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cameronspecial · 4 months

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Could you write an enemies to lovers fanfic with Rafe Cameron x middle class sassy sarcastic chubby reader where reader and JJ are super close which pisses Rafe off but he completely loses it when JJ starts flirting, touching reader somehow, and ask her out. When JJ runs off somewhere to probably get a drink, a few minutes later, Rafe tells reader to come with him because it concerns her “boy” which is just an excuse to get her alone. She sees that JJ has a hand print on his wrist which causes reader to confront him and yell at him for hurting JJ and Rafe confess his love for reader which leads to praise and breeding kink sex. In this story, Rafe and Reader have known each other since she was 16 and he was 18 because she was his classmate at the kook’s academy

Everything Was Blue

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT and Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.9K

Masterlist

Ever since he stole her spot as class President in their senior year at Kildare Academy, Y/N has had it out for Rafe. She would’ve been fine if he won the vote because he wanted the position, except he didn’t. He only campaigned for the title once he saw how much she wanted it. He was lucky that being VP was enough for her to get into Harvard because she would’ve killed him on the spot if it had.

The year spent as his Vice President was torture and she made it her life mission to return the favour to him. He would provoke her by sending her out as an errand girl. He would solely focus on the aspects of the job that made him popular with their peers, so when it came to the background work or the less favourable policies, she was left to tend to them. Rafe promised the students to make every Friday casual dress day and Y/N spent a whole weekend by herself working to make that happen while he and the other Student Council Members partied at the Boneyard. She got back at him though by anonymously telling Ward where his bottle of expensive whiskey went.

To add to her distaste for the Kook, he always antagonizes her Pogue friends and her relationship with them. She may be rich enough to afford Kook Academy, but the number in her parents' bank account was not satisfactory for the Kooks so the Pogues took her under their wing. They didn’t care what she had financially; they cared that she had whipcrack remarks against Rafe and would stand up for them against any Kook who tried to mess with them. She was an honour Pogue and proud of it, especially since hating Rafe was one of the requirements.

———

The sand gives way to her shoes as she hops out of her jeep. Music coming in front of her tells her the party is already in full swing and she curses Mr. Robinson for being late coming home from his meeting. She reaches into the car to pick up her phone and keys from the passenger seat, closing the door behind her. She spins around to find Rafe leaning against the car beside hers. “For someone who put time-management skills on her resume, you sure are late to the party,” he teases and then brings the red solo cup to his lips. She glares at him. “Well, for someone who claims to be good in bed, you would assume you could make a girl cum. But, at last, I’ve heard otherwise.” She smirks at the way his eyes narrow and continues her journey toward the gathering of people on the beach. He pushes off the car to follow her. “So you’ve been asking how I am in bed. Why? You want to take me out for a ride?” She laughs at the idea, “More like enough girls have been dissatisfied with the service you provide that they felt the need to complain.”

His mouth gapes and he can’t think of a comeback before she spots JJ in the crowd and makes her way to the Pogue.

“Hi,” she greets, running her hand along the top of his back to drop it on his opposite shoulder. He turns to her with a smile, “Hey, Beautiful. Where have you been?” “Oh, you know how Mr. Robinson is. He tells you he’ll be home by six and he comes home at nine. C’est la vie,” she complains. He laughs and guides her toward the keg near the bonfire. “Ahh, yes. The things you can do as a Kook. Don’t worry, we can get you caught up.” She nods, “I can only have one though. I’m DD tonight.”

After they get her drink, the two of them approach the speaker and begin to dance. His hands are on her hips, swaying with her movement and her head moves from side to side with her eyes closed. They are both caught up in the moment, so they don’t notice the pair of eyes trailing their every move.

Rafe can’t stop staring at her. He never can. He pretends it’s because he is scrutinizing her; his heart disagrees—the blue flowers on her catch his eye first. The corset-like top deliciously hugs her curves and he wants to untie the little bow that rests between her bosom. His sight trails down her body to the skirt of her dress. Its flowing design stops him from being able to imagine what his head would look like between her thighs. The high slit does give him a small glimpse that makes him want more. He finds JJ’s hands on her hips and something grows in his heart. A green spot of envy. What is he doing? He shouldn’t care that Pogue is touching her. He hates her. He has to focus on something else.

Luckily, Hailey sees him in the crowd and wanders over to him. She takes the hand that isn’t holding a cup and places it on her hips, dangerously close to her upper bum. He plays along with her, lowering his face to her neck. His lips ghost her skin. His gaze chances a look at Y/N. His envy flourishes and his grip on Hailey tightens. JJ’s mouth skims the shell of Y/N’s ear and she throws her head back with laughter.

“I’m going to go take a wiz,” JJ informs the girl after making a joke about the Kooks beside them. She bobs her head and steps back. Kiara slips into the spot occupied by their friend and the girls dance together.

A plan starts to form at the sight of the blonde’s departure. He keeps his distance while the Pogue dips into the wooded era of the beach. As soon as his enemy makes a reappearance, he rushes forward. “Dude, come quick. Something happened to Y/N,” Rafe advises. The boy is too drunk to question the older man and his concern overweights his suspicion. He follows Rafe, thinking nothing that he is being led back into the woods.

———

It’s been a while since JJ has returned from going to the bathroom and Y/N begins to worry that he passed out somewhere. She navigates through the sea of people towards where she knows he likes to go to the bathroom when they are at the Boneyard. Her eyes scan every blond, yet she doesn’t detect the one she wants. At the edge of the crowd, she finally locates the man she wants; however, he isn’t in the same condition as he left her in. A purple bruise blooms around his eyes and a red cut on his lower lip drips down his chin. His unaffected knuckles mean he didn’t even get a punch in. “J-jay, what the fuck happened? Who did this?” she worries, taking his chin in her hands. She examines his injuries. “I thought falling face-first into a tree trunk would be fun,” he jokes. “Who do you think did this, Y/N/N? The only person who wants to do this on a fun night out instead of partying.”

She isn’t surprised. Anger seeps into the back of her throat and she searches for the person she wants to let it out on. He is around the fire with Kelce and Topper. She storms over to him. Her finger digs into his chest and he backs him up against the rocks behind him. “Where do you get off?” she screams at him. He chuckles down at her, “Normally in my bedroom, but I’m not opposed to doing it in public if that’s what gets you going.” She scoffs. “Please, I’d rather do it with a cactus before I let you anywhere near you.” He fakes a pout, “Aww, you want a partner with an exterior as prickly as your personality.”

Her hand goes up to grip the collar of his button-up. “I’m not fucking joking around, Rafe. Why the fuck did you beat JJ?” she interrogates. His frown turns irritated and he steps forward. “He is a Pogue. What other reason do I need?” he instigates. She shakes her head and lets go of him. “You know what. I don’t have time for your bullshit.” With her attention no longer on him, disappointment replaces his envy. He can’t let her leave. “Wait.” His hand wraps around her wrist and she stumbles backwards. “What?” she questions. She pivots in his direction with rage in her eyes. He lets go of her and steps back with his arms up. His mouth drops open. He stutters, “Uhh.” His brain panics and forgets all the words. She shakes her head and returns to her leaving. He goes into overdrive, taking her hand and dragging her to the parking lot. Out here, the music is muted here. She rips her hand out of his hold and uses it to slap him. “What the fuck are you doing?” she yells. He rubs the cheek she hit. All the words in the English language, yet he can’t seem to string enough of them together to tell her how he feels.

“I love you?” The declaration sounds more like a question with Y/N spinning her eyes in their sockets. “You can’t be serious. If this is your new attempt at torture, then you have to work on the technique,” she quips, trying again to distance herself from her enemy.

The breath he lets out doesn’t match the length of his others. “August 12th, 2020. At two thirty-four pm, you walked into Bell’s Cafe with Kiara. Your tank top was a blue spaghetti strap tied at the back and your jeans were black with white embroidered flowers. You ordered a blueberry scone and blueberry mint iced tea. You and Kie sat at the booth by the window closest to the door.”

She interrupts him, “What does this have to do with anything?” He doesn’t acknowledge her inference. “She asked you how you felt about entering your senior year and you told her that you felt confident you would get into Harvard, especially if you spent most of your time doing Student Council work. She thinks she pieces together where he is going. “So you decide you would make my life hard to mess with my chances,” she assumes. His head swings, “No. No. Will you let me finish, please?” He waits for a response and she motions with her hand to continue.

“You like the colour blue and anything to do with it. You bite the back of your pen whenever you are in thought. A habit you are trying to stop. You like to listen to audiobooks in the car. I know those things because everything you do catches my attention and everything I do is to get yours.”

She finally hits the bullseyes, “You took the Presidency so that I would notice you?” Hearing her say it out loud makes him feel childish. His hand cups the back of his neck. “Yeah. It’s stupid, I know. You were out of my league and my horny ass brain could only think of idiotic ways to be seen by you. You can’t say it didn’t work though,” he admits. She chuckles, “You really think I want to be in a relationship with you after you jeopardized my chances at getting into Harvard and have made my friends’ lives a living hell.” He steps closer to her, boxing her in against the car behind her. His head lowers to mimic the placement of JJ’s. “I think you like that I light a fire in your heart. I think every hateful stare we exchange is to mask our desire. I think that if I put my hand up your dress and under your panties, my fingers are going to come back soaking,” he says while his hand goes dangerously close to her entrance. “Shall I test the theory?”

His gaze bores into hers, anticipating an answer. He catches the small dip in her head and fulfills his requests. As expected, his fingers come in contact with a wet substance. He brings it up to his lips and sucks it into his mouth. His mouth drops back close to her ear, “Look at that, you are as wet as I thought you’d be. As sweet too. Reminds me of blueberry scones, except better.” His hand falls behind her near her rests and cups the doorhandle. He pulls it open, taking her back off the vehicle to shove her in.

A thud resonates in her ears and she crawls back to lie down on the car seat. “Can I have another taste, Pretty Lady?” he begs, his eyes flicking down to her crotch. She exhales, “Yes.” He tuts and places his hand on her soft stomach. “That’s not how you ask politely.” She sneers at him, closing her legs and sitting up. “If you want to be that way, then I’ll find someone else to take care of me. Maybe someone with a better track record,” she postulates. She reaches for the handle. He grabs her wrist and spins her to face him again. He growls, “You are going to regret that.” He pushes her back against the seat, throwing her legs over his shoulders. The hem of her dress pools at her waist and her blue lacy thong is revealed. He groans at the wet spot forming. He drags it down his legs and throws it to his back seat. His eyes peek to where it lands. He grins when he sees they are wrapped around his gear shift. Those aren’t going anywhere.

Her bare pussy shines up at him; he licks his lips in apprehension of his meal. His head dives in, making contact with the sweet substance. She jerks forward in a moan and her fingers attempt to grip his shaved head. The smirk he wears presses against her. The slurping that fills the car is pornographic. She whines at the release of pressure. His chin glistens as he looks up at her, “See, Pretty Lady. You can’t listen to what random people say. You have to get the facts from the source yourself.” Her plump pout has him chuckling and he squeezes her thick thighs.

He focuses on her bud, sucking and nipping like his life depends on it. His saliva pools at the edge of his lip and it drops at the edge of her entrance. He places his tongue inside of her, curling towards him. Her walls start to coil around him. His fingers pass through his mouth and jam them into her hole at a fast pace. This unravels her and she constricts around him, making it hard for him to pull out. His hand rests on the mound above her clit. He messages the skin and she releases a bit to make it easier for him to remove his fingers. He rises from between her legs. His lips press against hers and she tastes herself on him, causing a need to regrow against her. He grinds his closed hard-on against her. “You did so good, Pretty Lady. You make such pretty sounds,” he murmurs to her. “I’m going to fuck you so dumb that everyone knows who you belong to now. Whether that be from how loud you scream tonight or you start singing my praise or your belly rounds with my baby. You are mine.”

One hand is used to take off his belt and he yanks down his underwear with his pants. “You ready, Pretty Lady?” he confirms with his eyes on her. She circles her arms around his neck to bring him near her face and connect their lips. “Fuck me right now, or I’m going to go tell everyone that you can’t even find the hole.” A snicker passes his lips and he lines himself with her entrance. He doesn’t give a warning this time as his hips slam forward, causing their pelvic bones to be flushed. He sits up and raises her hips. The new angle mixed with the pace of his pistoning gets his tip where it needs to be to cause her the maximum amount of pleasure. “You are doing so well, Pretty Lady. You are going to make the best mama for our baby. Can’t wait to see you get all round,” he praises.

His thumb reaches her bud and rubs it clockwise. “Harder,” she orders him, bucking her hips up to meet his motion. He grabs the headrest to anchor himself and drags his cock out so that his tip rests inside of her. His re-entrance is swift and with a harder force than before. “You feel so good, Pretty Lady,” he moans. “I’m not going to last.” She feels the warning jerk that confirms the truth of his words. She clenches around him, helping him to the edge. He spasms inside of her and rides out his high. His limp dick comes out and he is about to lean forward to help her to her second release when she stops him. She uses her hand to bring him up with a shake of her head. “What’s wrong? You didn’t finish, so I was gonna help you out. Can’t have you running around telling people I can’t make you come,” he jokes, trying to get back to work. She kisses him. “It’s okay. I don’t need that right now. All I want is for you to hold me.” He grins at her words and flips them over so she is on top of him. Her head is on his chest. The car is silent and the windows are fogged over from the activities that were happening inside. She decides to get one last word in, “And for you to apologize to JJ.” His grumble has her laughing into the night.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron smut

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charliemwrites · 7 months

Text

A reader x Simon commission piece I just recently finished for my sweet bean N.W. I had a lot of fun writing a little scenario I never would have thought up on my own!

(Reader is described with FAB anatomy, but no gendered pronouns are used. No sensitive content warnings, just spice.)

It’s a perfect day.

The sun is a bright golden marble in a perfect jewel sky, toasting the sand into a powdery bed. There are only wisps of flossy cloud to interrupt the light, a feathery salt-soaked breeze to soften the edge of heat. The water is nothing but lazy ripples, foamy waves crawling up the coastline before slithering back.

And your coworker is soaking wet.

When you first signed on as a lifeguard, you didn’t expect more than some extra pocket money. A little financial cushion while you finished working through your master’s program. A chance to get some sunshine instead of holing up in your room. Maybe the occasional bit of eye candy while you fished children out of the shallows and fussed at families for littering around the barbecue grills.

You didn’t expect Simon “Walking Wet Dream” Riley. (Okay, that’s not his actual nickname – apparently it’s “Ghost.” Because of course it is.) You didn’t expect his big, fuck-off muscles, or his perfect sun-bleached hair, or the dark ink of his tattoos, or…

Well.

You got more than just eye candy when Mister Price hired you. Simon is a whole damn feast. Especially when he’s fresh from a cool-down swim, red trunks weighed down by water and tides, revealing the tantalizing curves of his hips. Droplets skittering over the bulges and divots of his body, sparkling in the sun…

“Excuse me?”

You try not to jolt, head jerking to the guy that hopefully hasn’t been standing there too long. He looks about your age, maybe a bit older. Wavy, chin-length brown hair and eyes nearly as blue as the water. Pretty, in a young Instagram prince kind of way. Maybe your type in another time – the time Before Simon.

“Hi,” you say quickly, “did you need something?”

“Do you have any plasters?” he asks. “My little brother scraped his knee.”

You glance at the kid shuffling just behind him, his knees dirtied and one red with a bit of blood. Nothing serious, you determine, but could use some first aid.

“Oh, poor thing!” you say. “C’mon, we have some bandages in the shack.”

You wave to get Simon’s attention, make the quick hand-sign indicating you’ll be gone for a moment. He notices you, the two boys, then nods and makes his way back to his usual lookout spot.

The shack is a quiet, cool oasis away from the heat. You’ve dozed off next to the mist fan more times than you care to admit, only to be woken by Simon pressing a cold water bottle to your cheek. It used to annoy you, but now you appreciate the reminder to hydrate.

There’s a robust first aid kit in one of the cabinets, though you groan a bit when you see how high Simon’s stashed it this time. Damned tall man; you could swear he does it on purpose. You try to reach it on your toes, but when that doesn’t work, you jump a bit. Still no luck. You’re going to have to get the stepstool at this rate.

“Here, I’ve got it.”

You jump a bit as Insta-Prince comes up behind you, sliding in close before you can scoot out of the way. He stretches his arm over your head, tugging the kit down from the shelf. When you glance up – concerned about something falling on you – you find him smirking down at you.

“Thanks,” you say trying not to snatch it out of his hands.

“Seems like an… inconvenient place to put that,” he muses.

You sit the younger brother on a plastic chair near the door and kneel, kit open on the floor. “We usually keep it lower… I think Simon forgets I’m shorter than him.”

The kid winces a bit at the sting of wound wash but puts on a brave face when you smile at him.

“Seems pretty rude. Is he hard to work with?” Insta-Prince asks.

You hesitate, trying to think of how to respond. Simon was intimidating, at first. Dark eyes and stoic expression, he was difficult to read. Always within a stone’s throw, you used to feel like he was hovering. Like he didn’t think you could do your job right.

Over the months, though, that insecurity has bridged into a tentative friendship. Even if he’s not talkative himself, he lets you chat to your heart’s content. Keeps you hydrated, reminds you to eat snacks and apply sunscreen. Even handles the rowdier beachgoers when they break rules, his bigger stature and sharp glare enough to cow even the most entitled people.

“No, he’s—”

“What’s the hold up?”

You glance up at Simon’s broad form angled in the shack’s doorway. His eyes aren’t on you or the kid, though. They’re on Insta-Prince – standing a little close to you, now that you’re not focused on the younger brother.

“Just finishing up,” you answer, smoothing a waterproof bandage over the scrape. “You did great, buddy, high five!”

That earns you a little smile and the requested high-five as the kid hops out of the chair. When you stand, Simon’s eyes flick to you. Darker than deep water, something swimming within that you can discern from the surface. It makes you fidgety, like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t.

“Remember to log it,” he rumbles.

“On it!” You lean over the wooden counter to pluck the clipboard from the wall on the other side, relieved that someone put the pen back for once.

“So, you have to write down all the injuries people get?” Insta-Prince asks, trying for casual conversation. The air feels oddly stifling, and gets worse when he settles closer, peeking around to see the sheet.

“Just if we use medical supplies,” you answer, scribbling quickly.

“Lifeguards only in the shack, kid,” Simon interrupts. “Get moving.”

You try not to snort in amusement. While Simon might tolerate you, he’s got a general disdain for most beachgoers – ironic considering how adamant he is about safety. But he seems to find the average person a nuisance to be constantly monitored and herded away from trouble. Like a shepherd with a flock of particularly stupid sheep.

“My brother was hurt, man, give me a break,” Insta-Prince protests, annoyed.

“And now he’s not,” Simon replies. “You should catch up with him. Kids need to be watched, isn’t that right, sunshine?”

You hum absently in agreement, signing off on the injury log with your initials. There’s a beat of silence that itches at the back of your mind. When you look up, Simon’s arching an eyebrow at the guy, thick arms crossed across his barrel chest.

Sir, firearms are not allowed on the beach, you think, before wrenching your eyes from Simon’s biceps.

“Did you need anything else?” you ask Insta-Prince.

“Just what time you get off work,” he replies, giving you big, soft, hopeful eyes.

You blink, a bit shocked. Flirting happens rarely for you, except maybe platonically with Soap or Gaz. To be fair, you’re not exactly the female lifeguard idol that most people would fantasize about. Half the time you jog around in shorts and a rash-guard, more comfortable in unisex swimwear and keeping the worst of the sun off yourself. Helpful to avoid wardrobe malfunctions if a panicking swimmer grabs at you.

Besides, you’re not really looking to get hit on. Hard to keep an eye out for emergencies if someone’s chatting your ear off for a shag by the restrooms. (You didn’t think people really did that until Farah groaned about it at the bonfire when you first hired.) Still, now that it’s happening… you don’t hate it. This guy is objectively attractive, apparently cares about his younger sibling enough to get him first-aid, and is weathering Simon’s increasingly annoyed scowl.

You figure there’s no harm. Not like someone else is showing a similar interest.

“At sunset,” you answer. “So, uh…”

“6:30,” Simon offers.

You shoot him a grateful look as the kid begins scooting for the door, skirting around Simon’s wider, thicker frame. Christ, the difference is stark. You tug at the front of your rash-guard to relieve some of the sudden heat.

“Maybe I’ll see you then,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

You stare after him for a second. He didn’t even ask for your name. “Huh.”

“The hell was that, sunshine?” Simon grouses.

You turn to him and shrug. “No idea.”

“Really now?” he scoffs.

You shake your head, already agitated by the whole thing for no reason you can pinpoint. Lean over the counter again to hang up the clipboard. “Really.”

“This isn’t a place for your silly summer fantasies and little meet-cutes,” he growls. “This is a real job, with real lives on the line.”

You twist around, brows furrowed as your mouth drops open in offense. “I know that.”

“Do you? Then why the fuck were you in here flirting?”

“I was helping the kid,” you argue, “you saw him!”

“Real convenient, that. When the older one’s been eye-fucking you all damn day.”

Any snappy retorts drown in the shock of his crass language and the accusation. All day? That guy? And Simon noticed? Never mind all that – Simon would seriously think you’d use a kid’s injury as an excuse to… what? Get cozy with an attractive stranger while on duty?

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you huff, “but I need to get back out there.”

As you pass, a big, rough hand snaps out and catches your elbow. You come up short, half-turning towards him, face hot. Equal parts angry and ashamed for some reason. Summer romance your ass.

“Get it together,” he orders.

You click your tongue at him. “Same to you.”

You wrench your arm back and storm out onto the sand, snatching your floatie from the shack railing along the way. Don’t know what jellyfish stung his ass, but you hope he figures it out. Don’t think your self-esteem can take another round of… whatever that was.

The rest of the day passes tense and slow. Without Simon to talk to, and the beach relatively peaceful, you’re left to fixate on the incident in the shack. What was that about? You thought for sure you’d grown on Simon a bit. Sure, you’re one of the younger lifeguards, which is why Price assigned you to Simon’s post, but you’ve worked hard. You thought you’d proven yourself.

Checking your watch, you find that it’s nearly 6:30. The sun doesn’t seem that low yet, but the beach got empty while you were idly keeping watch. Might as well pack it in, you figure.

Not even thinking of Insta-Prince when you hop up the little wooden steps to the shack. Simon isn’t back from wherever he’s monitoring yet, and you’d like to be clear before that changes. Just in case he’s still in a bad mood.

You shed your blue swim-shorts and rash-guard on the counter, leaving you in the more standard one-piece. Roll your shoulders a bit uncomfortably, itching to squeeze into your binder after a day with tits-out. You’ve gotten accustomed to the sensation of leaving it off for the job, but you’d still prefer to wear it when safe.

You flop onto the counter, reaching over the side to fish your bag out from its cubby. Of course, that’s the exact moment that you hear Simon’s heavy step on that creaky board by the doorway.

“Bloody hell,” you think you hear him mutter.

“I’m just about to head out,” you assure him.

“Meeting up with that knob?”

Your temper flares. You abandon your bag and land on your feet, spinning around. Come up (very) short when Simon’s right there, not enough room to breathe without your chests brushing. But you don’t allow yourself to be deterred.

“So, what if I am?” you challenge.

His eyes darken, then narrow. “This isn’t a game you want to play, sunshine.”

“Maybe I do,” you insist, planting your hands on your hips.

He exhales slow and heavy, boxes you in against the counter with hands on either side of you. Your stupid, traitorous heart skips a beat, then trips into double time. Normally he wears a rash-guard too, but not today. No, today it’s swathes of tanned, scarred skin. And it’s so, so close to yours.

“You won’t win,” he warns.

Your tongue feels heavy and clumsy, maybe because your thoughts feel the same way. Now, you’re not always the most aware of “signals,” but there aren’t many other ways to interpret someone near-pinning you to a counter with smoldering eyes.

You scramble to review the earlier confrontation through a new lens. The way Simon glared at Insta-Prince, not you – until you seemed open to his interest. Oh. Ohhhh.

You wet your lips; the way his eyes lock onto the movement bolsters your courage.

“What if… I don’t want to win?” you ask.

His eyes dart up to yours, something a little sharper than longing when he whispers, “I’d make you a sore loser.”

An unexpected laugh bursts out of you; his teeth flash in a crooked smile as he scoops you up so easily. He sits you on edge of the counter and steps between your thighs, pelvis bumping against yours. You gasp, head dropping to stare wide-eyed at the frankly monstrous bulge in his trunks.

“W-wow,” you mumble faintly, thighs squeezing around his hips.

“C’mere, sunshine,” he growls, cupping your jaw.

You tilt your face up, sigh softly as his mouth slots over yours. He tastes like blue powerade and sea salt, tongue curling against yours when you grant him enthusiastic access.

Your hands make scattered, eager work of exploring him, unsure where you want to touch first, just that you have to. He’s as solid as you always expected, densely packed muscle under healthy, hydrated layers of fat. Sun-warm beneath your palms, shudders as your skim them dangerously close low on his twitching abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging gently at the shoulder strap of your swimsuit.

“Yeah,” you mumble, wriggling closer.

He huffs in amusement, peeling the elastic material over your arms and down your chest while you scatter kisses over his jaw and neck. You gasp into his peck when his calloused thumbs brush your hard nipples. Just a small touch, yet electricity is racing up and down your spine.

“This alright?” he checks.

You hum the affirmative, pressing into his touch as he pinches and rolls the sensitive peaks, slow searching. Reclaims your mouth to swallow each and every little mewl and moan that spills off your tongue. You can’t help rocking against him, hot and hard through the thin layers of swimwear.

“Simon,” you whine against his mouth, “c’mon.”

“Impatient,” he teases, nipping your bottom lip.

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” you complain, tugging at his trunks.

“I know, sunshine,” he coos, “just wait a bit longer.”

He takes the tiniest step back, fingers hooking in your swimsuit again to roll it the rest of the way off. You lift your hips to help, nearly squirming as strings of slick web between the fabric and your pussy. But Simon seems hypnotized, snapping the strands with his fingers and following them back to your swollen cunt.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” he rasps.

You make an embarrassed noise – which quickly graduates into an alarmed squeal when he drops to his knees.

“Simon, wait, I’ve been working all day and—”

“Don’ give a fuck,” he growls, “I’ve been dying to taste you for weeks.”

He yanks your thighs over his big, strong shoulders and dives in. It’s messy and obscenely loud, filling up the tiny shack and all the empty space in your head. Would be embarrassing if you had any room for something so frivolous. Instead, you’re gone on the way he sucks your clit and laps thirstily at your entrance. Utterly obsessed with the deep, throaty groans that leave you throbbing.

It's been a while, true, but you know he’d have you on edge so fast regardless. And he does, rushing up on it like a building, rolling wave. The devastating kind that’ll drown you in unyielding currents.

“Wait, wait,” you squeak, tugging at his coarse hair.

To his credit, he stops instantly, though he sounds absolutely gutted about it. Pulls back licking his lips like a cat with cream, chin practically dripping.

“Alright?” he asks, voice shredded to ribbons.

“I just,” you pant, “I just w-wasn’t ready to – to… I wanna cum on your cock. Please, Si?”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He surges up, pressing you down flat to kiss you stupid(er) and senseless. The taste of you isn’t as offensive as you expected, not coming from his tongue. “You’ll get anything you want if you keep talking like that.”

“Just want you.”

He helps you off the counter, drags you by the wrist to the plastic chair by the doorway. You’re about to protest – no way can that chair support someone his size, never mind both of you. But then he’s spinning you around, crushing you to his chest, and yanking you down into his lap. Any such nonsense as good sense dissolves like a sandcastle.

You can feel the length of him pressing hot and a little wet against your spine. (So, so high up your spine, good god). When he freed himself from his swim-trunks, you’re not sure, nor do you care at this moment. Your priorities narrow down to one absolute necessity: getting him inside you now, now, now.

“Easy now, baby, don’t hurt yourself,” he purrs in your ear. “Let me help.”

He curls big hands around your hips, tight enough that you relish the bruises that may bloom there later. Supports your weight as if it’s nothing to him, propping you over his lap as you line up his cock, dragging the flushed head through your pooling wetness. He curses low and rough, sinking you down until the tip catches on your entrance.

“There we are,” he grits, hands flexing in your soft flesh. “Nice and slow now, sunshine.”

If you had your way, he’d already be balls deep in your aching pussy. But his grip is firm and unrelenting, lowering you inch by thick inch down his shaft. You back and squeeze around him, encouraging him deeper, faster, helpless little noises escaping from your gaping mouth.

“That’s it, halfway there,” he breathes. “Doing so well.”

You choke. Halfway?! You already feel stuffed, walls gripping every contour of his cock like you were made for him.

He twitches inside you, bulbous, leaking head grinding deliciously, and your resolve cracks right down the middle. You dig your nails into his thighs and slam your hips down, crying out as he buries deep inside. Can feel him nudging your cervix, stretching your silky walls, all the way down to where your opening is sealed tight around the base of him.

“Fuck,” he snarls.

“F-feels so good,” you whimper, head falling forward as you clench around him.

Oh, you are definitely going to be so perfectly sore after this. You can’t fucking wait.

“If you’re that impatient to be ruined,” he chuckles breathlessly, “best brace yourself, lovie.”

You barely manage to get your feet planted before he’s fucking up into you, hard and mean. Just what you want, what you need. Your head falls back to cry your pleasure to the shack roof as you bounce. Rocking your hips each time he bottoms out, grinding him against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you. It’s mind-numbing; you’re leaking around him, know it must be dripping onto the floor at this point.

He snakes a hand around to your front. Brushes where the two of you are connected, the strange and dangerous sensation making tears prick at your eyes. Then his fingers skip up to your needy, oversensitive clit. You almost want to stop him, already so overwhelmed with pleasure. But again, anything like coherent thought is ripped away on a tide of ecstasy when he begins rubbing quick, tight circles.

Your rhythm faulters at the new stimulation, but Simon just widens his stance. It changes the angle, drags the head so perfectly against your g-spot. With the hand still on your hip, he starts jerking you down to meet each thrust. It’s slightly slower, but so much sweeter, combined with the rhythm he’s strumming on your clit.

Your orgasm rises like a tsunami, higher and higher, a devastating force building up inside.

“Simon,” you keen, “Simon, I’m gonna – right there…”

“That’s it, sunshine. Get me nice and wet with your cum.”

That voice, saying such filth in your ear, sends you over the edge. You nearly convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you scream. Back arching, writhing and gripping crescents into his thighs. And you can feel yourself gushing all over him, onto the floor.

“Yes, yes, fuck, just like that.”

You’re near limp as he keeps hammering into you, practically using you like a toy to get himself off. The thought alone makes you squeeze around him again, a powerful aftershock bringing another flood of wetness. Your head lolls back against his shoulder, crying into his ear, begging him to cum inside you, fill you up…

He crashes his mouth into yours as he cums, groaning into your lax mouth, jerking violently into your overstimulated pussy. You swear you can feel him spurting inside you, thick and white-hot. It feels… it feels…

You break the kiss to suck in a deep breath, lightheaded and still squeaky with pleasure. Simon trails soothing kisses over your shoulder, grip easing up to caress over the forming finger marks. You hum softly, voice husky. Flutter your eyes open and blink at the pink sky out the window.

“Is it… is it just now sunset?” you ask.

Simon chuckles against your ear. “Looks like I was about thirty minutes off. Whoops.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #commissioned work #ko fi commissions #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #lifeguard au #beach au #simon ghost riley

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mirrology · 2 months

Note

Just saw that you write for genshin too!! Yay!!

I wanted to request a child reader who doesn't like talking to people but shy way- but bc she feels like there is no point in it also is a genius but doesn't go to the akademia bc of financial reasons so alhaitham adopts her? Also, kaveh and alhaitham act like parents towards her? Like kaveh scolding her for not making friends at the akademia and scolding alhaitham bc he is not a good example? Basically, kaveh being the worried mom and alhaitham being the cool dad

Sorry if this request was too long and specific 😅 I had this brainrot for a long time and wanted to share it with you

ノ Demure .ᐟ ʚɞ

୨୧ reserved, modest, and shy.

alhaitham, kaveh & gender neutral reader. platonic. | wc: 1.1k

tags/warnings: child reader, typical kavetham bickering, reader is considered a genius, reader has no parents, a little bit of angst regarding reader's backstory

notes: WOW THIS IS SO SO LATE!! I'M SO SORRYY, I've been having a really hard time with my mental health.

she/her pronouns were used in the ask, but the reader is gender neutral so everyone can enjoy. sorry if that's not what you wanted!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

— For as long as you can remember, you were alone. In a house that brought back nostalgia, but those memories were buried deep into your mind, and no matter how hard you tried to dig them up, they stayed hidden.

— You took up small jobs around sumeru to get by, to at least look presentable in public. Even though it was considered child labor, you didn't care. Although when it came to speaking to people, it was difficult. People could be stubborn and rude, you didn't grow up knowing social cues or ways to respond. So, the only option you had was not speaking.

— When you didn't respond to the person that was talking to you, they either assumed you were mute or that you were rude and just didn't want to speak to them.

— Once, you were out in the desert in search of materials for your employer. You had crouched down as you spotted something shining underneath the grains of sand. It was a gem, and it looked quite expensive. The next thing you knew… you were surrounded by people in outfits that you hadn't seen before. Each and every one of them had a sort of red blind fold on. They demanded that you hand it over.

— You couldn't get a response out as your body froze up in fear. Just as one of them was going to swing their weapon down, it was intercepted by a sword.

— It was a man in green, before anyone could react the man knocked out the people who were previously surrounding you. Your eyes sparkled in awe, watching as the man swiftly landed on his feet. His head turned to you, causing you to flinch at his cold eyes, but they slightly softened in something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

↳ Your mouth hung open as you stared at the man in green. He beat up the scary looking people, he… he was so cool! Your eyes sparkled and were basically radiating light. His head turned to you, his eyes were narrowed, and that made you jump and quickly close your open mouth. The man started approaching you — you, not exactly trusting him, looked around for an opening to run away. The man knelt down to your height, yet still at a comfortable distance, his eyes trailed over your face, taking in your features and searching for any injuries. A small bead of sweat ran down the side of your face, discomfort written on your face. “Do you have anywhere to go?” The green man asked. You reluctantly shook your head. Your former house — that was barely staying together - didn't really count. He offered you his hand. “Would you like to come with me?”

You stared at the hand that he held out, should you agree? I mean it's not like you have anywhere else to go, and you weren't exactly made for hard labor jobs… you put your hand on his and nodded, he stood up with your hand is his. “My name is Alhaitham.” He said while looking down at you expectantly. “I'm (Name)...” You muttered but you could tell from his nod that he heard it.

— When you went with Alhaitham, you expected to be taken to an orphanage or taken to the authorities, yet that wasn't the case. He had taken you to his house and given you clean clothes, a warm bed to sleep in and… a roommate?

— After you had taken a bath and changed, Alhaitham had sat you on the couch and explained that he wasn't the only one who lived in the house. You really hadn't expected it since he seems like the type of person to like his alone time, but you understood.

— Once Kaveh came home after a long day of dealing with indecisive clients, he was met with you, and Alhaitham engaged in a game of chess and… The former was actually losing. To Kaveh It felt like a fever dream, so his only response was to stand in the doorway. But once he realized that there was someone other than him and Alhaitham in the house, and that someone was a CHILD.

— oh boy, Kaveh is immediately asking 1000 questions per minute. How did you get here? Where are their parents? Do you even know if they have any other relatives? and so on and so forth.

— Once Kaveh and dwindled down from his flurry of questions, Alhaitham explained your situation.

↳ Kaveh put a hand on his chin as he took in the information provided by his roommate. He hummed “So… they're staying with us?” He asked Alhaitham with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, that's right.” The scribe nodded and crossed his arms, Kaveh sighed “Alright…” He trailed off and met eyes with your wide ones. “I'm Kaveh, nice to meet you, (Name)” He gave you a small smile. Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ shape ‘he's pretty’ you thought.

— As the days went by and the three of you got adjusted to living together, Alhaitham noticed something peculiar about you. You were much more perceptive than other children, often pointing out details that even some adults couldn't have seen, and you learn surprisingly quickly for a child your age.

— You also took a strange interest in the akademia. Whenever you, with either of your guardians, would pass by the akademia, your eyes would be immediately glued to the entrance doors. Alhaitham, seeing your subtle hints of interest, decided to talk with Kaveh to see if they should enroll you in the akedemia.

— and surprisingly, it didn't take much convincing to get Kaveh to agree. The both of them had acknowledged your perceptive nature, quick 5 interest in the akademia. They decided to give you a chance, since it seems that you never had a proper education. They sat you down to tell you, and once they did… you lit up, a rare but well received squeal escaped your mouth as you rapidly thanked them as you ran up to hug them. Your wholesome reaction forced a smile out of Alhaitham and a hearty laughter out of Kaveh.

— You loved your time in the akademia, learning about different plants, animals, and complicated equations that you came close to solving. The only slight problem was… that you didn't make an effort to talk to other kids your age. It was just that you went the best at talking to people, and you got really anxious when you did. It didn't help that you froze up when someone approached you.

— Alhaitham in return, assured you that you didn't need to interact with people. You just needed to focus on your studies and yourself, but Kaveh had the opposite opinion. He believed it was essential to have friends or just people to talk to. It would build up social skills and help with public speaking. At Kaveh's rambling, Alhaitham muttered a quiet "Don't listen to him”, yet Kaveh heard his remark and started to scold him for encouraging the anti-social behavior. Although you kept Kaveh’s advice in mind, you weren't planning on public speaking or speaking to people anytime soon.

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shady-tavern · 8 months

Text

Heart Song

The world was full of music and to you, that was beautiful. Everyone you met was surrounded by a melody, some louder and some quieter, some sad and some joyful, some struggling and changing tunes as they tried to find themselves and others marching forward, no matter the mismatched tones and half-broken sounding lyrics.

It had been difficult, growing up, to not get lost in the music constantly. Your parents hadn't understood what was going on, dragging you to doctors and trying out different medication, until you had been old enough to find the words, the proper explanation, to tell them how you saw the world.

A gifted child, your lot were called. People born with abilities that showed as early as when they were infants or sometime late in their adulthood. But the powers always revealed themselves and very, very rarely were not put to use.

You had found yourself responding to melodies that had wanted to be heard and seen and recognized even before you understood what they were, singing back at them clumsily until they had lost a hurt edge, until they had found meaning, until the song surrounding a person's heart rang like clear bells with the sound of hope-relief-healing.

Becoming a hero had, in a way, been the only sensible conclusion. You wanted to help and you could help, so why wouldn't you? Why wouldn't you help sand down rough edges, help people over a bump in their road, help someone hurting find the strength to reach out?

Your parents had thankfully been the sensible and sceptical ones and had cautioned you against accepting just any hero gig, any contract that was extended to you. You had been so excited you had nearly accepted the first offer without question.

They taught you to read between the lines and always question things, especially if people in power reached out to you.

Hero contracts, as you had quickly learned, were rather intense. There was so much red tape surrounding everything and your parents really hadn't liked some of the wording of some of the passages and with great reluctance and perhaps a couple of tears, you had tossed those offers into the trash.

Right up until Redemption & Recovery had reached out to you. They had been a comparatively tiny organization back then, doing their best to help others with what funding they got. Almost all members were volunteers and the contract they had extended had, admittedly, looked pitiful compared to the promised salary of the big hero offices.

But their offer had been just what you had been looking for. Next to no red tape and your values and theirs aligned. The moment your parents gave their tentative green light you had called them straight away, telling them you wanted to work with them.

In the years that had followed you had made quite the name for yourself and the organization, which had grown in members and funding until it was one of the biggest. You were so proud of everyone and their hard work.

While you had become the face of R&R, fighting and going to interviews and fan meetings and doing your best to be present online, everyone else had been hard at work behind the scenes. Networking and outlining and signing contracts, choosing sponsors carefully and keeping the unyielding desire to make the world better alive, no matter how big the organization got.

Redemption & Recovery focused heavily on not only offering recovering villains all the tools to keep healing and improving, but they also offered services to the public to help people stay away from the villain business in the first place.

You still didn't have much of a salary compared to other famous heroes, but that worked just fine for you. You rather donated as much as you could feasibly give to R&R, to help finance the services they offered. The therapists and doctors they had on their payroll, as well as housing aid and financial advisors and lawyers to help people get back on their feet.

You still received offers from the big offices, who hoped to poach you from R&R and the latest offer had you choking on your breakfast when you had seen the salary and other perks they had offered. It had still gone into the trash, because the red-tape situation had been as bad as ever.

Besides, you were perhaps a bit...unique, among the heroes. The big offices would probably find working with you rather headache inducing.

You raced around a corner, heart in your throat at the sound of hurt-terror-helplessness that filled the air ahead of you as thickly as the dust and smoke from the collapsed building that had yet to settle. You leapt over rubble and debris, your breath catching when you heard another bit of building crumble somewhere to the left.

And among the injured civilians, the panicked people, one melody rang louder than the others. Loud enough to drench everything in agony-hatred-despair like a wailing siren.

You had heard bits and pieces of this particular melody in the past and you knew exactly who it belonged to. Eclipse, a high-level villain known for laying waste to entire city blocks whenever he appeared.

He was one of the villains who broke heroes left and right if they weren't strong enough to stand up to him and who had endangered many a civilian carelessly. No death count yet, but he was getting closer and closer to it every time he appeared.

Even now he had been lucky that people had gotten out of the building in time before it had started to collapse.

Official sources weren't sure if he even had full control of his powers, considering the often haphazard destruction and his at times openly visible frustration. Whatever was going on, however, everyone agreed that he needed to be stopped before he ended up killing, no matter if it was intentional or not.

Eclipse's focused face turned into a mask of fear the moment he noticed you from the corner of his eye, head snapping around to stare at you.

His heart song drew you unerringly to where he was in a showdown with two other heroes, newbies if you remembered correctly. The heroes were bleeding and limping but determined-angry-hurt and they would not stop until they could no longer get up.

You saw Eclipse raise a hand in your direction and you felt his power in the air, heavy like a yoke dropping onto your shoulders, with a sharp underlining that told you it was barely-controlled. The ground beneath you starting to crack, glass shattering further, steel beams yanking out of the rubble to hurl at you.

But you were close enough. You closed your eyes for a moment, senses honing in on his heart song and you took a deep breath and began to sing. You answered the anguished melody of his heart, desperate and with a hurt so deep it had stained every part of his life for far, far too long.

You were only peripherally aware of all the ammunition clattering to the ground, steel beams scraping to a stop, glass grinding into shards so fine they briefly resembled glittering snow.

The two heroes backed up, relief making their songs brighter as they turned to rush to the aid of the injured civilians, two who had gotten pinned by fallen concrete.

Eclipse collapsed to his knees, a keening noise escaping him, wounded and terrified and he burst into tears. His heart song was nothing but pain and hurt that was finally set free, like a wound that had needed to be drained of infection. Painful but necessary.

You hurried towards Eclipse as he helplessly sobbed in a way that reminded you of a child that had been abandoned by everyone, confused and terrified and so terribly alone.

Before you could reach him however, still singing, for you hadn't completed the melody yet, a different song sliced through the air like a serrated blade, sharp and cutting and jarring enough that it made you jolt to a stop.

You had just one moment to drag your focus away from Eclipse and back to the world around you, when Vision leapt out of the settling dust and rubble, his heart song a deep, echoing drum of vicious anger-determination-worry.

The sleek black metal helmet covering his head was faintly reflecting some sunlight and you dodged back just in time to avoid a kick to the middle. Two quickly and precisely aimed blows forced you to focus on the fight entirely and you had to cut off your song even as it felt like you were suddenly walking on spiky stones in your shoes.

Cutting songs short hurt and the rest of the melody still stuck within you started to claw at your lungs, demanding to be released. To be completed.

You managed to dodge around Vision, realizing that his heart song filled with righteous fury and blade-sharp worry gave you...nothing. It was rare, granted, but sometimes there were people who didn't want to be saved. Who didn't want or perhaps need your songs.

They wanted to be their own saviors.

You hadn't clashed with Vision before, but then again, heroes rarely did. He was a villain capable of seeing into the future and his ability to predict the outcomes of battles ahead of time, knowing the moves and abilities of heroes ensured that no one had ever won against him.

No trap had ever worked and he was one of ten villains who managed to keep everything about themselves private. He was also pretty much all over the place when it came to his MO, he seemed to enjoy dipping his fingers at least once into every pie.

That he was here, now, getting involved with you when you had never so much as seen his shadow fleeing his crime scenes made you think of the rumors you had heard recently. Of unexpected villain alliances and joint attacks.

You ducked out of the way of his next attack, sliding around his guard to trip him up. Vision was skilled, however, easily as skilled as you were in hand-to-hand combat and smoothly turned his fall into a drop and roll, avoiding your sweeping kick by a hair.

One thing however, became clear within even that short exchange of blows: He was willing to hit a lot harder than you.

You hated fighting. You loathed being the reason heart songs changed for the worse.

Fighting caused hurt and deepened the songs of pain-anguish-hate-loneliness. It filled the world around you with the sound of strings snapping and keys being smashed, as though an orchester had decided to get shitfaced drunk and now they were playing their instruments so hard they ended up breaking.

Hurting others was the ugliest song you knew and it made something in your very teeth ache like biting onto a bar of icy metal after drinking hot tea.

You managed to hold your ground, always peripherally aware of Eclipse, who was gasping sobs into his hands and the unfinished song scraping your ribs raw, right up until another villain joined the fray. She appeared so quickly you had no chance to react in time, not with Vision viciously on the attack.

Silver was a tough woman with the fiercest heart song you had ever heard, strong enough to crumble mountains like cookies and with such a drive forward that her melody could sweep anyone up in her rhythm, driving them to reach for the stars relentlessly.

Silver flicked out a dagger and the knowledge that she didn't kill didn't help one bit when she was well known for leaving heroes with career-ending injuries. She was so damn precise it usually only took her one hit to take heroes down. Even the powerful ones couldn't afford to slip up around her and they only ever took her on one-on-one, because even an inexperienced, second villain spelled their doom.

Vision already had you fully occupied and you had no chance to dodge, never mind counterattack.

You saw the flash of the blade, braced yourself for the pain, the songs around you suddenly too much, too loud, too – a sharp pop filled the air, followed by one of your favorite melodies in the world.

From the corner of your eye you saw the sweep of a night-black cape and a night-black gauntlet came up to parry Silver's blow, as Areth appeared at your back out of nowhere.

"Yo," Areth said with a sharp grin, a mask covering the upper half of her face.

"Lo," her twin Sorrel answered as he leapt out of her shadow and at Silver, tumbling her to the ground with a snarl.

"Is someone bullying our Cloud?" Areth asked as she whirled past you, striking out at Vision, disappearing and reappearing behind him before the hit landed, but it had the desired effect – he had reacted to her feint.

It left his flank wide open and her kick landed solidly, throwing him off his feet and he tumbled into the dirt and rubble as Areth took up position at your side. "You good, little Cloud?"

The twins had nicknamed you Cloud since they thought you lived with your head in the clouds, always listening to things no one else could hear, humming and smiling or frowning at nothing.

"Give me cover?" you asked, already running for Eclipse and picking his song back up, relief flooding your lungs and Areth's melody resonated protective-care-determination, turning her usually pleasant heart song into something beautifully fierce.

Her twin's song echoed hers as he dipped in and out of shadows, disarming Silver at last – not that that stopped her from being dangerous – while Areth moved to keep Vision occupied. Her teleportation skills were honestly some of the few abilities that could stand up to Vision's future-predicting powers.

She seemed to move too fast for him to reliably predict where she was going to end up next in the heat of battle. Which didn't mean that she had an easy time against him, but she at least was capable of landing a hit on him.

Eclipse's desperate melody took a metaphorical breath as your song rose over the sound of battle and you did your best to soothe him back out of the storm, to guide the hurt and bitterness and abandonment that drenched every single part of him towards release.

You had just barely finished the song, Eclipse's sobs slowly petering out as he sat sagged, utterly exhausted, when Areth appeared at your side, grabbing you. Sorrel slipped into her shadow and then you were gone. For just a split second, your world was...quiet. Quiet in a way it never was.

And then you stood a street over, sound and color and smell and taste filtering back and you needed a moment to reorient yourself before you turned around to where the battle had been, only for your breath to catch. A strange shimmer filled the air a few houses behind you, moving up and up at a rapid pace to create a massive dome.

"White Rabbit showed up," Areth said and her and Sorrel's melodies overlapped now, like two people singing the same song in perfect sync. They always sounded like this when he hid in her shadow and you were about the only person who had known from the beginning that Areth wasn't walking alone whenever she had shown up in costume.

You were about to hurry forward, when her hand found your shoulder. "Don't go, Cloud, you know that time's not on your side in there. Besides, the big league heroes are already on the way, though I doubt that by the time they break the dome they're going to find anyone but confused civilians."

You grimaced and reluctantly backed down. Your powers were absolutely and completely useless when it came to Timeless, who only needed to catch you up in either a time-freezing dome or had to rewind the last couple of seconds once you appeared to ensure you could be avoided. You had to get close enough to people after all for your powers to have the desired effect.

"Thanks," you said. "For helping me."

"Always, little Cloud." Areth gave your shoulder a gentle nudge, her and Sorrel's combined heart songs mellowing out into affection-kindness-protective. "You're one of the few actually, genuinely good eggs that we know." She paused looking up. "Aw, shit, bye!"

They teleported away and not a moment too late. Rescue heavily impacted where Areth had stood, having leapt from who-knew-where, straightening on powerful legs.

Rescue was a grizzled, old hero, one of the oldest and she rarely left her office these days, preferring to guide and teach the younger generation.

That she was here meant that Timeless' dome needed to go down stat.

Rescue tipped her head politely at you. "Anything you can tell me?" she asked, voice rumbling. "I saw the mess from my window and I'm sick and tired of meetings."

Or she had gotten bored. Rescue was more than established enough that she could get away with pretty much anything. You got her caught up to speed and she nodded before tensing and leaping away, asphalt cracking in her wake.

You hurried forward too, lingering near the shimmering glass-like dome until it shattered apart and then you were dashing forward. You could sing if there was no specific heart song to focus on, but those songs tended to have more of a general effect and they were softer and gentler. They were, however, more than enough to soothe and calm the civilians and ease the tension of the newbies.

"No one's left," Rescue muttered. "Fucking villains, they've been getting really damn bold lately."

"Do you know why?" you asked her. Rescue was pretty knowledgeable, there had been a few instances over the years where she had given you pretty damn useful advice.

She frowned. "Not a damn clue." Her phone started to ring and she pulled it out to glance at the screen. With an eye roll she added, "Gotta bail, these adult children need me to hold their hands. Becaus god forbid they just do what I say."

With a quick salute she was gone and you frowned at your surroundings. The villain activity was bothering you quite a bit if you were being honest.

Things always shifted, people grew in power or lost power, but it was an ebbing and swelling that was visible on both sides. There was a strange symbiosis between villains and heroes, a flow of power and control.

Usually, a new arrival made waves on both sides for a bit, a new villain or new hero upsetting the previous balance. It was like integrating a new instrument to an orchestra that hadn't expected any arrivals in the middle of a play and now they had to improvise and adapt quickly on the spot.

But this, this was different. Whatever was going that had villains uniting who usually didn't work with each other, it had them antsy and downright worried.

Only villains were antsy and worried. This upset among the villains was not reflected among the heroes, which meant...

You finished helping with the rescue efforts and went back to R&R, allowing the resident medic to check you over like they always did after a fight. All the while you kept turning things over in your mind.

Vision was a loner, as was Eclipse. Silver occasionally worked with other people, but that was only temporarily and Timeless was an enigma on the best of days. Two of those villains teaming up you could have explained away, but all four of them? And they weren't the only ones.

You went home and booted up your computer to start noting everything down. Aside from today, you had other villains working together who should not have anything to do with each other. Tide and Meteorite had been seen aiding each other and Skull Crusher and Bard had teamed up with Ultimatum, who they had a notorious rivalry with.

Before you knew it, you had nearly twenty villains who had recently been seen either on downright friendly terms or actively helping each other. Picking up your phone you started to make calls, hoping to get a foot in the door before whatever was going on would come crashing down.

There were plenty of villains who actively liked you after you had helped them with your singing. While most people feared your powers deeply – even heroes and plenty of civilians to your great sadness – the ones you had sung to tended to seek you out again.

Healing hurt, but afterwards...well, they were doing better afterwards, taking better care of themselves, seeking out therapists or other aid. You were probably the only hero around who could ask villains to poke into the business of their brethren and report back to you.

Only...for the first time, you got no answers.

You sat awake for hours, searching through the internet and online newspapers. You scrounged through the cesspit of social media, trying to find the red string that eluded you.

*.*.*

"Uh, Cloud? You good?" you heard Sorrel's hesitant voice and you whirled around, energy drink almost sloshing over your fingers. You probably looked half manic, had probably sounded half manic when you had called the twins earlier.

Both his and Areth's heart songs were worried-concerned-confused and you smacked the whiteboard behind you. Oh, your hands were kind of shaky. That was bad. But, no matter, you had finally gotten a lead in this mess!

You made a sort of incoherent but meaningful noise as you gestured at what you had pinned up. The twins liked old-school detective stuff and you had actually found it easier to keep track of things by spreading them out physically, rather than the messy note doc you had opened on your computer.

Areth picked up one of the energy drink cans littered around.

"How many did you have?" she asked and you didn't deign to answer her. It would only worry her. Considering her heart song became exasperated-fond-concerned anyway, that was a moot point, but you didn't have to make it worse. You'd also have to toss out all the cans before she saw the mess that was your kitchen.

You took a sip of your current energy drink and declared, "We are getting royally fucked."

The twins peered at the whiteboard which, alright, it might look kind of nonsensical at first, but you had put up colorful strings to help point things out! And pretty, glittery sticky notes a fan had gifted you!

You vaguely remembered posting a grateful little tweet about those sticky notes a few hours ago, because you appreciated your fans and you wanted them to know that.

Your fans had nearly exploded with the desire to give you more of those. You also vaguely remembered telling them that glittery stuff in general was great.

Your PO box was going to look like a five year old's birthday and you already looked forward to it.

You smacked different parts of the whiteboard, pointing out politicians and company CEOs, newspaper clippings and lastly, the documented unrest among the villains. You were talking fast enough to almost trip over your words as you told them everything you had gathered.

"And that leads me to one conclusion!" you said, the twins staring at you, standing tall and strong before you in all their anti-hero glory. They had always been a lot bigger than you, you only came up to their shoulders and they were quite dangerous and powerful fighters. Though, not dangerous for you.

"Heroes are in on this," you declared with your entire chest. "And the ones that aren't are kept in the dark." You gestured at yourself, the energy drink sloshing noisily in its can. "Like me. Because I'd kick their asses."

"You never kick anyone, little Cloud," Sorrel murmured, exchanging a heavy look with his sister. There was a plethora of micro-expressions as they communicated silently, before they faced you again. "Alright, I think it's time you meet some people."

*.*.*

You had no idea where you were, since Areth had teleported you through three different locations, but you trusted the twins. And maybe, you were still a little too hopped up on sleep deprivation and a number of energy drinks that probably shouldn't go together.

"Did you give them a heads-up?" Sorrel asked quietly and Areth sent him an unimpressed look.

"Oh no, absolutely not," she said dryly. "I was just going to drag our precious Cloud into the lion's den and watch shit hit the fan."

Sorrel rolled his eyes and they shoved each other for a little bit as they led you down a dark and dreary hallway. Couldn't villains have their lair somewhere nicer? More colorful? At least, you assumed you'd be led to a villain lair.

You reached a door made of heavy, thick metal and the twins glanced at each other, then you, offered you a reassuring look and then they pushed the door open. Oh, this was so a lair! How cool, you had never been invited to one despite having villain acquaintances.

"We're here," Areth called out, while she and Sorrel strolled forward and you trailed after them, craning your head to look at everything.

Where the hallway had been nothing but gray concrete, dreary and almost unsettling, the lair itself was bright with light and filled with different work spaces. There were inventions off to one side, minions scurrying about who all froze in their tracks and then you saw them.

The around twenty villains who had been seen working together, each and every one of them in costume and their overlapping heart songs anything but pleasant.

"Do not sing," Meteorite snarled as you opened your mouth to call out a greeting. "In fact, stay right the fuck over there."

You didn't tell him that you were already too close, that this distance was more than enough to work your magic, but you smiled disarmingly and mimed your mouth being zipped shut with jittery hands. Everything about you was still jittery and you felt a little like your bones were vibrating. Or was that your muscles?

"We are only allowing this because we trust the twins," Bard said, sitting on Skull Crusher's massive shoulders, expression intense and grim. "Having a hero here is really damn risky."

"Cloud already figured pretty much everything out," Areth said and you perked up hopefully, while the villains all stilled. The air was heavy with threatening and worried and tense heart songs, a cacophony of alarmed-mistrustful-angry-guarded-wary.

Any other day and this would have given you a migraine. There was a reason why you didn't like crowds much and had to take days off after fan meetings.

"How?" Vision asked, voice incredulous and his heart song intense and battle-ready.

"The internet," Sorrel answered and now everyone stared at you like you were the weirdest, most baffling thing they had ever seen. You smiled disarmingly, still jittery. You probably looked, uh, slightly unhinged.

"What," Timeless said, voice flat and disbelieving and those assessing, sharp eyes fell to you. "Explain."

You barely got to inhale before the entire speech rushed out of you again, complete with big hand motions and you were sure you were giving speed-talking champions a run for their money.

A beat of heavy silence reigned after you finished, the twins still sticking close to you. You had no doubt that they would keep you safe if this somehow turned sour, but it wasn't like you were entirely defenseless either.

With the villains requesting that you keep your distance, you'd get a song started before they could reach you. If you really put your all into it, you could get away unharmed easy-peasy.

You wouldn't like it, using your voice for anything but healing always felt like you were going to throw up at any moment, but you'd do what you had to to stay alive.

Not that anyone knew, you hadn't been forced to use those songs yet, thankfully.

"How could you know that something was off?" Vision asked, his heart song wary-curious-impressed. Oh, the latter was new and...it was quite the nice tone. You focused on it to try and push the other songs into the background.

You wouldn't tell Vision that you could hear his and everyone's emotions around you, to the point where you could tell their intent.

People had never reacted favorably to that, they had always thought that it was creepy and invasive. You couldn't not hear their songs, however, so you just kept your mouth shut.

"When something happens, villains and heroes are always affected," you explained. "But you guys are the only ones who are getting upset." You spread your arms out. "So I looked until I found answers."

"Just like that?" Vision asked, disbelief openly audible in his voice, but his heart song grew a little bright and nicer, even as his guarded wariness remained. It had even gained a quiet, almost hidden note of curious-interested-fascinated.

You nodded and added, "It wasn't too hard in the end."

Considering the way everyone pinned you in place with hard, disbelieving stares, even the masked folk, you got the faint impression that it had, in fact, been quite hard.

"It's only possible to start noticing things if you don't consider heroes infallible," Skull Crusher mused, her voice deep and rumbling. "Did you figure out which ones are in on it?"

"I have speculations," you said and rattled off a list of names. Now all the villains' heart songs sounded impressed-incredulous-thoughtful.

Vision's heart song on the other hand sounded really damn nice now, almost no wariness left, though there was still no trust either.

"You know, it's a good thing you always live with your head in the clouds," Silver mused. "Or you would be a real problem for all of us."

"You already are, to be fair," Tide grouched, speaking up for the first time. "For someone who doesn't fight you are too good at taking us out."

There was a little tickle at the back of your throat, like a song wanted to break out as you honed in on his heart song and you swallowed it down with difficulty. They had asked you not to sing after all. Even if it was hard to keep silent, you had no desire to make anyone feel unsafe around you.

There was a moment of tension, before it seemed like the villains collectively exhaled. "Alright, get over here," Silver said, rubbing a hand over her face. "Let's talk."

The twins clapped you on the shoulders and flanked you as you walked up, Sorrel and Silver briefly nodding curtly at each other, a calm sort of wariness between them. There was no love lost.

"I hope we won't have another fight at our hands," Silver said. "I was not happy with your interference earlier today."

"And we told you our Cloud is off limits," Areth answered, hard and unyielding. "Let bygones be bygones, alright? He bruised you, you cut him, we have bigger fish to fry."

"Indeed," Bard said, accepting Skull Crusher's hand to hop down from their superior perch. "Alright, this is what we know."

*.*.*

It had been just as bad as you had feared. There were preparations put in place across the entire city for something big, skillfully kept from the public and fellow heroes who would have investigated.

The villains around you had only noticed it themselves because they had their fingers in plenty of illegal pies and because they knew quite well who in this city was corrupt and who wasn't.

"We still don't know exactly why all these things are being put in motion," Vision mused as you looked at the evidence they revealed to you. "Money has been shifted around to people who should not get more power and they are very eager to comply."

It had taken you hours and some pulled strings to find those things out as well and only your inherent mistrust of those in power had ensured you looked where most did not think to look.

At first glance, things hadn't looked so bad, there were countless of business deals after all, but your punk parents had raised you well, had made you wary of anyone too rich, so you had kept digging deeper.

"And then there is this." Timeless tossed down pictures of the heroes you had identified as corrupt. "They are in the know, we are sure of that."

"Usually us villains are at least somewhat involved if something big is being planned," Bard added. "We don't like it if we're not getting invited to parties, after all. But this is...it's almost impossible to get any information out of the people we know have been paid to look the other way."

"Took us forever to gather this much," Silver muttered with a little frown-glare at you. She did not like that you had gotten done what they had struggled with so much.

You wisely kept your mouth shut about what your powers could do. Or how many connections you had, how many people felt grateful and indebted to you because you had helped them heal.

"But you might be just what we need," Vision spoke up, surprising you as he tipped his blank mask in your direction. "There is something these heroes know and we're running out of time. There is a big election coming up in a couple of weeks and if we don't stop whatever is going to happen before that, it will be too late."

"I do have an in with heroes," you muttered, studying the pictures on the table. "I can get into the big hero offices without trouble."

Many of the corrupt heroes were very publicly active heroes, very loved heroes – with ugly heart songs. You had met most of them and they carried melodies like starving dogs. Always hungry for more, never satisfied with what they had.

What was worse, they had no pure kind of ambition. The sort that spurred them to work harder and strive for the stars.

No, their ambition was ruthless and careless, they would step on as many necks as possible to get where they wanted to be.

You looked up, noticing that there was a sudden hush around the big table. "What?"

"You trust us and our word? Just like that? You don't think we want to use this to gain more power?" Vision asked, voice hard, but his heart song had suddenly soared a bit, it was curious-interested-hopeful. He sounded like he wanted to get to know you better, a quiet...yearning, of a sort.

You knew better than to tell him and the others that you could hear their hearts, their emotions. That it was impossible to lie to you.

"From what I understand, someone is pulling the strings and they are planning something terrible," you answered, serious and solemn and truthful.

You just needed to meet that person. You'd only have to cross paths with them and then you'd know. Hearts couldn't hide or lie. Hearts were always honest.

It must be someone already powerful, a politician, a company CEO or perhaps even a hero. A maskless villain who had learned to hide in plain sight, planning patiently.

This was...this was big, all these quiet and secret changes that had taken place would culminate in something that shouldn't happen.

"The mayor's election is up in a couple of weeks, we already suspect whatever is goign to happen will happen then," you murmured. "I looked at what events the city has been planning and what the hero offices are planning. Do you have a map?"

A map was quickly acquired and you noted down all the events taking place during the day of the mayor's election. There was the big gathering in the main plaza in front of the city hall, there were fan greetings with almost all the corrupt heroes in surrounding buildings and a big, long anticipated restaurant was going to open that exact day around the corner.

Parades were planned and a big firework display was promised later, along with free drinks and food. No election had ever been this nice to its citizens and no election had ever been accompanied with so many events.

You drew the routes of the parades and each and every one of them led people past the plaza.

"They're gathering the citizens for something," Silver said grimly. "How many do you think will be there?"

"Most people," Vision murmured. "And, here." He set down his phone, scrolling to reveal how many big sales the surrounding shops offered on election day. Ridiculously low prices for expensive things.

"This reeks of someone planning to use their powers," Bard said, their lips pressed together unhappily. "What do you think, mind control?"

"The only super capable of affecting so many people lives on an island because she's sick and tired of society," Skull Crusher answered with a shake of her head. "And the power to control or affect that many people? That's rare."

"Unless there are artificial ways to enhance powers," Areth said. "We know a couple of mechanics and inventors, we'll chat them up and ask them if they heard any rumors."

"As will we," Tide agreed, glancing at you. "And you, uh..."

"Just call me Cloud," you said with a smile. "You leave the heroes to me."

"Can't believe us villains have to save the day," Timeless sighed. "That's what heroes are for, usually."

"Well, at least we have one hero to help us out," Vision mused, that blank metal mask tipping in your direction as he addressed you. "I know someone who can help you, a reporter who's been aiding us a lot and he's pretty good at hacking, would you mind taking him along?"

His heart song was a quiet calm melody of lying-hiding-hopeful. It wasn't hard to figure out what exactly he was lying about, his song gently rising above the others.

"Of course," you said with a smile. "Can he meet me later today?"

"I'll give him a call," Vision said with a nod, then pointed at you. "Just answer me this, have you slept at all?"

You smiled brightly. "I am full of energy, don't you worry."

Twin hands gripped your shoulders and you heard Sorrel say, "She'll sleep, don't worry. Come on, you manic genius."

With those words Areth teleported you away and the moment they had shoved you into bed, you were out like a light.

*.*.*

The journalist was indeed Vision out of costume. His heart song was anticipatory-determined-interested as he spotted you when you met him towards the evening.

You felt like death warmed over, the power nap the twins had wrestled you down for leaving you feeling like you had tried to chew cotton and your face felt kind of swollen and your limbs heavy.

You probably made quite the miserable picture and still you were surprised to hear the shift in his song as it became concerned-determined-anticipatory.

"Vision told me about you, I'm Silas," he said and you couldn't help but think that he was quite the pretty man. With an intense gaze and earrings that framed his face perfectly. He even moved like Vision did, with quiet steps and an unshakable certainty of his path forward.

You wondered how many versions of this meeting he had gone through with his powers or what exactly he was capable of. Like your powers, like Sorrel's, he had made sure that no one quite knew how far he could stretch his visions into the future. What he could do with time itself if push came to shove.

"It's nice to meet you," you said with a genuine smile. If he wasn't telling you who he was, that was just fine with you, he could keep his secrets just like you kept yours. "Shall we?"

"What's the plan?" Silas asked as he fell in step beside you, his heart song thrumming with anticipation-curiosity-focus. Now that you were right beside him and outside of battle, you realized that his heart song was just as nice to listen to as the twins'.

"We'll start with Angel and their agency," you said. "They extended an invitation to me just last week to drop by for coffee and a chat. They most likely want to see if they can poach me."

You knew the grin you offered him wasn't a hero's smile, not one of the sweet, reassuring ones you pasted onto your face when you were in costume. It was a real and genuine grin with all the dagger-sharp danger of someone who was a protector.

Someone who had been raised by parents who believed in challenging every system, who had raised you to think for yourself. You loved people for all their faults. You especially loved them when their heart songs were guiding them towards happier and more content lives.

You had pledged yourself to be a protector and if you had learned one thing during your career as a hero, it was that in every protector lurked a predator. A threat that rose the moment someone under their care got hurt.

You were soft and gentle because that was who you wanted to be, because hurting others was the worst song in the world, but you knew the danger that lurked within yourself.

The songs that lurked within you, and while you wouldn't use them unless you absolutely had to, you knew that you would. It might destroy the part of you that still felt innocent even after all these years, but you would do it.

So your smile was a little sharp, a little wicked and a little challenging as you asked, "Think you can play my agent, Mister Silas?"

Silas' heart song became a sweet and excited fascinated-interested-curious and he smiled back, a bit of villain shining through as his lips revealed a hint of teeth, his gaze sharp and cunning. "Most certainly. Is there anything I should know beforehand?"

You briefed him on everything he needed to know about Angel and their agency and by the time you were done, you had reached the big building painted with rising angels and the glory of a rising sun. There was a shitton of religious imaginary that you were not going to unpack, especially considering the corruption within.

"I will be humming," you told Silas quietly and he glanced at you. "Don't tell anyone, but humming has a weak effect on those around me. It will make Angel and others more talkative, are you comfortable with watching yourself and what you say more than you usually have to?"

He snorted. "I am not so weak as all that." He really wasn't, his heart song was strong and fierce and certain. Unshakable but not rigid and unyielding. It was fascinating. "Sing all you want, I will not fall under your spell."

And just like that, Silas had quickly and unexpectedly become one of your favorite people. Someone who, from the sound of his heart song, actually and genuinely didn't worry about your songs. He had been wary, yes, but never afraid.

He knew himself, you realized. He knew his emotions and his own mind and he was working on taking care of himself. You weren't needed, but...it sounded like he still wanted to get to know you anyway.

What a novel thing it would be, to not be needed but wanted.

You pasted on your sweetest, most unassuming smile, your fakest smile, the one you showed to everyone whose heart songs were rotten.

You pulled the front door open, starting a low, gentle hum that would set people at ease, would make them feel safe and comfortable and trusting around you.

*.*.*

It felt like you were dancing on wires, using your hummed songs so very gently and carefully, your questions peppered just as cautiously while you spoke with Angel. Angel whose heart song was a growling, dark melody of greed-envy-manipulation.

It was almost as bad as the sounds peoples hearts made when you hurt them. But only almost.

By the time Silas and you left, you wanted to curl up somewhere nice and quiet and fall asleep again, this time for longer.

"That was...a thing," Silas mused, sounding dry and sarcastic, his heart song a slow, unenthusiastic melody of unimpressed-underwhelmed-tired. "At least we got what we came for."

It had been a tiny slip-up from Angel, but it had been enough with the information Silas and you had. Angel had immediately looked annoyed when, after an hour of your coaxing and gentle, careful humming, they had revealed something they very much hadn't meant to.

They had expressed an annoyance of holding a fan event at the very edge of the plaza, but Iridescent had decided where everyone's meet and greet would take place.

Iridescent was a hero you had met only in passing and she was an unpleasant woman. Not because of how she behaved, she was always polite, always friendly, but those manners were nothing but fake.

You yawned and shook out your limbs. "I'll have to look into getting us an in with Iridescent, but I'm sure R&R can help me with that."

Silas made an agreeing noise. "You'll keep me involved, Singer?"

"Of course," you said. "And please, call me Cloud, that's what my friends do. I only chose that hero name because it was one of the few still available that fit my powers and weren't already snatched up by other heroes."

The copyright market was a veritable nightmare when it came to heroes who wanted to establish themselves.

"Are we friends now?" Silas asked with a raised brow, looking cool and collected, but his heart song had immediately changed to curious-interested-hopeful upon hearing your words.

You hadn't made villain friends before, at least, not in the same way that Sorrel and Areth were your friends. But...you liked him. You liked his heart song and you found yourself increasingly more curious about and interested in him.

"Why don't we give it a try?" you answered with a little grin and he smiled back, genuine and amused. You fished your phone out of your pocket. "Let's exchange numbers and arrange playdates, shall we?"

He laughed at that, mirth-fond-warmth, turning his heart song into a bright and light melody that you wanted to surround yourself with at all times. "Why did I ever think you were just a two-goody-shoes airhead?"

Now you had to laugh. "Oh, I am an airhead, believe me. There is a reason why my friends call me Cloud, but R&R firmly told me to not ever tell jokes on live television or to someone with a camera."

"They're that bad, huh?" he asked, still smiling as he saved your number and you felt ridiculously delighted at the little cloud emoji he used instead of a name.

"Worse," you agreed happily. "I'll call you later, alright?"

"Later, Cloud," he answered and you focused on his heart song, on the sweet, spring-light melody of fondness-mirth-interest for as long as you could as you walked away.

*.*.*

You met up with Silas numerous times more as the two of you hunted for clues among the heroes, the rest of the villains gathering information among the corrupt politicians and companies.

What had started out as a curious partnership quickly grew to become an ever evolving friendship. You genuinely enjoyed Silas' company and considering his often delighted heart song, so did he.

You managed to make him laugh and he looked utterly horrified the first time you told him a joke of yours, immediately agreeing that you were never allowed to repeat it in front of a camera, ever.

"You'll be the joke of the internet, a meme in the making!" he had groaned. "Come on, let me tell you an actually good joke."

You liked him and with every day that the two of you met up, discussing things, approaching heroes with Silas as your agent and R&R playing along after you asked them to, you liked him more.

There was warmth and fondness and joy when you saw him. This curious villain who served himself but also, to your pleasant surprise, other people. He brought ruin whenever he put on the mask, but as you looked at things, you realized that he was like a wildfire.

He burnt things to the ground so other things could grow instead. And, well, some seeds needed fire and heat to come alive.

You'd never agree with him on everything, some days not even most things, but even then there was respect whenever he talked to you. It was fun to discuss your different moral viewpoints while knowing that you agreed on all the important things.

It was...good, to have him at your side. To have someone who was willing to do what it took to get answers, someone who didn't fear your songs.

Someone who trusted you.

Today he sat in your apartment, pinning up a new piece of evidence on your messy whiteboard. His heart song was content-caring-trusting and yet there was also something sweet tingeing it all. Something growing and developing and you wondered what he'd sound like as soon as those feelings finished growing.

"What is that look for?" Silas asked when he glanced at you.

"I've been lonely a lot," you found yourself saying and he blinked, briefly surprised, before he grew more serious, his heart song gentle and encouraging. "People didn't really...get me, you know? The twins like me and I love them, but..."

You offered a slightly abashed smile. "You feel like you get me, you know?"

Like he, too, knew what it meant to have powers that gave him a perspective of the world no one else had. Like he, too, had struggled with fitting in and had ultimately trashed the very idea of sanding down his edges and bending his spine to fit into the box other people wanted him to fit into.

He was unapologetic about himself, just like you were about yourself. You didn't care when other heroes or even civilians complained that you were too soft on villains. That they wished you'd give them what they deserved.

There was enough hurt in the world, you heard it after all. You just wanted to try and make the world better, which was why you would stick with R&R until your dying day.

Silas' gaze told you that he understood, a gentle, almost melancholic tinge to his song.

"I know what you mean," he murmured, looking away though you still caught a glimpse of a truly heart-wrenchingly sweet smile. "You feel like...home, as weird as it sounds."

"No, no, that doesn't sound weird at all. It sounds right." It sounded so fitting.

He smiled at you, his heart song nothing but delighted-loving-warm. "Come on, help me solve this riddle before we're out of time."

You got to your feet to join him by the board, your shoulders brushing against his. "Can't figure it out on your own, huh?"

"Dream on, Cloudy," he said with a grin.

It was a fun evening, despite the serious topic. Everything these past weeks had been fun despite the looming deadline. Maybe it was because you were a hero and you thrived in tense, high-stress situations, but every moment you spent with him you felt parts of you come alive that had grown quiet and small over the years.

It was indeed like finding home in someone else. He saw you and he had decided that he liked what he saw.

It was only after you sent him home and cleaned up the dinner you had shared with him, humming and singing a song you had never sung before, that you realized it.

That you had fallen in love. That Silas, that Vision, had done what no one else had ever managed to do. He had found your heart and instead of holding it tightly in his hands, it felt like he was ever raising it up to the sun.

Telling it, telling you, to take flight. To demand more of the world. To demand better. To take a bit of a villain's hunger, a villain' ruthlessness, a villain's loud disruptiveness to demand the change you wanted to see.

You had no idea what to do, but you couldn't help but grin and dance and sing. Sing for yourself instead of other people. Sing because you were genuinely, truly happy.

*.*.*

"The election is tomorrow," Silas muttered, pacing up and down. "And we still haven't found out what exactly they intend to do. We're running out of time, Cloud. What are we missing?"

You stared at the whiteboard with intense focus. What, indeed, were you missing? Everyone was getting ever more tense and nervous and the villains had already discussed busting the gathering tomorrow if nothing else could be discovered.

Forcing the city to push their plans back was preferable to just letting things happen.

You wanted to avoid that, however, because you knew the heroes that would be present to both hold meet and greets and guard the event. They were all known for being harsh with villains, ruthless and brutal. It would be a bloodbath -

Wait.

You made a noise, hand patting a rhythm against Silas' arm, which he somehow understood as you raced for your phone. He was just...amazing like that. He got you. Weird noises and absent moments and strangeness and all.

You rang up R&R while Silas followed you, eyes bright and intense, heart song thrumming with anticipation-restlessness-relief. It was the relief in his melody that almost made you trip up. Because he trusted you to find the answer even before you had managed to do so.

He believed in you, fully and whole-heartedly.

It took an hour until you had gathered the information you needed.

"These hero offices were cut out of the event tomorrow. In fact, the reveal of the election is planned for when the patrol routes take as many of those heroes as far as possible from the plaza," you said, flipping the board around to scrawl across it. "And those heroes won't think twice about that, considering how many other heroes will already be there."

Silas took the pen with a wry little smile, only for you to snatch it back when you realized his handwriting was even worse than yours.

"What does that tell us?" Silas asked. "They're not part of the plan?"

"Yes, and!" You scrawled one more hero agency at the very bottom, circling it. "It tells us which hero got ignored entirely. He isn't hosting meet and greets, he isn't guarding and he isn't patrolling."

Silas caught on immediately, eyes widening and a grin spread over his face, wild and excited. "Because this is the hero behind everything. He can't guard the plaza if he's the one who's going to execute the plan."

You whirled to face Silas fully, finding him only inches away from you and you grinned. "We found him."

Silas laughed and a moment later you were pulled into a fierce hug, his heart song an exhilarating rush of awed-adoring-ecstatic. You were pulled off your feet to be twirled around and you laughed, clutching him back just as tightly, a song spilling past your lips and he suddenly thrummed with energy.

"Oh, wow, I had no idea you can do that," he said as he still held onto you. You just grinned and finished the song, every fiber of your and his being feeling fully and completely alive.

"What do we do now?" he asked, gently setting you down on your feet again. "Should we attack the office?"

You tapped your fingers on his arms, only half aware of the fact that his hands were resting on your waist as you thought. Hero offices were well guarded and they had multiple ways to call for help in case of an attack.

Besides, there was a reason this particular hero was the number one of the city and the number three worldwide. You still needed to find out what the plan was here.

You focused on Silas as an idea took shape. "Let's call the others and get everything we need. We ride at dawn."

He laughed, heart song a bright, bright adoration-loving-awed and you realized, startled and breathless and elated, that he, too had fallen in love with you.

You wished you could kiss him, you wished there wasn't something more important to take care of beforehand first.

But later, later you'd tell him, you decided as you committed his joy to memory, as the sound of his love took your breath away and made you feel like your entire being could barely contain the joy you felt.

You'd save the city tomorrow and then, for once, both villains and heroes would have a happy ending.

*.*.*

Your heart was beating fast and strong as Sorrel and Areth stretched, Vision standing beside you in all his villainous glory. You wanted to reach out and hold his hand.

"Ready, Cloud?" Areth asked, holding out her hand, Sorrel slipping into her shadow.

You could already hear the noise of the plaza a block over. The streets were downright stuffed with people, it really looked like almost the entire city had gathered, drawn in for different reasons.

Free food, their favorite heroes, a massive sale of multiple companies, a long anticipated restaurant opening, parades and the mayor's election. It was almost ridiculous how well it all worked.

You wished you could have informed some of the other heroes, but you hadn't dared to risk it in the end. Still, in case shit really hit the fan, the twins had Rescue's number and the woman was formidable and well respected for a reason. She could rally everyone else so long as someone told her what was going on.

You gripped Areth's hand and Vision did the same when she extended the other to him and there was a brief moment of complete and utter silence, before you popped out on the other side. The utility closet was a cramped little space and Sorrel unlocked the door from the outside, having slipped through the shadows.

You knew the route well from here after Silver had broken into the city library to steal archived blueprints of old buildings. Namely, the city hall. You knew where you had to go to find your way to the backrooms where everything was getting prepared for the big reveal of the election.

This was the riskiest part of the plan, since you had no idea what dangers lurked along the way and it was exactly why you needed the twins and Vision. Their powers could get you close enough to the one hero who had avoided you like the plague all these years: Starlight.

A shining beacon of a hero, beloved by the masses, always gentle and kind to civilians, righteously defending the downtrodden and he was lauded for his gracious manners even when he dealt with villains.

And if you were right, he had something horrible planned.

Like you had feared, the city hall was filled with patrolling sidekicks from Starlight's agency. After sending a last, confirming message, the rest of the villains already in place, you nodded and Vision fell silent, his heart song flickering through many quickly changing tunes.

He guided the twins, who popped away, silently taking down the first two sidekicks. One by one, your group worked its way towards your destination, moving quickly in a way that was only possible with two different kinds of teleportation powers and a man who could see the future.

"Starlight can counter me," Vision had warned you when you met him after sending Silas home, knowing very well that you'd see him at the lair.

He still hadn't told you about his identity and you had caught enough glimpses of worry-shame-fear to know that he thought you wouldn't take those news well. That you'd feel betrayed.

You'd tell him your secrets too, you had decided. When he revealed the truth about himself, you would do the same about your powers.

It was only fair, if he was brave to do the thing he feared, then you'd do the same.

"I thought someone was going to cause trouble." The ethereal voice made everyone stop in their tracks, Sorrel disappearing into the shadows with a snap and Areth and Vision taking up position beside you. They knew you didn't want to fight, after all.

They knew you needed to be uninterrupted if you wanted to sing.

"But color me surprised," Starlight continued and then you saw the shimmer of his existence, something incorporeal, like he was a distant, silver-golden starscape taking shape. Slowly becoming flesh. "I hadn't thought the softest hero in the world would ever team up with villains."

"You can't stop us," Areth said, but Starlight was ignoring her, which immediately made all your internal alarms blare. No one ignored Areth. She was too dangerous for that and even Starlight couldn't afford to take enemies lightly. For all his power he wasn't invincible.

You managed to grab her arm just in time and you realized that Vision stood very still at your side, his heart song snapping to a sudden panic-horrified-terrified. It was a jarring noise, like string instruments playing a discordant, high-pitched noise that grated on your very existence.

Your heart immediately leapt into your throat – whatever version of the future he had seen, it immediately had left him desolate. Scared. His hand reaching out to grip the back of your outfit.

"You're too late," Starlight said with a smile as he shook off the rest of his powers, stardust raining down like glitter to vanish into nothing before it could touch the floor. "I've put too much into this to fail at the last second."

Now that he was here, fully corporeal, you heard his heart song. It was overwhelming, a loud and fierce and bellowing hunger-victorious-domination.

For just a brief second, you felt like a farmer staring up at an armored and armed knight riding towards you on his massive war horse, blade glinting in the sun.

You felt like you stared up at death.

"I have become the end and beginning of all," Starlight said, his heart song clamping around you like a great beast's teeth, stealing your breath away. "And you will bow."

He raised a hand when a massive explosion rocked the building. Screams rose from outside as more and more detonations took place. His head jerked up, surprise visible on his face and that was all you needed to cling to a shred of hope, that there was still something that could be done.

There had to be, no matter what Vision had seen. His powers weren't perfect and if Starlight could be surprised, there must be something you could still do.

"Areth!" you shouted and your friend popped away with you and Vision just as Starlight lunged, the power of the universe at his fingertips – too much power. Far too much.

You knew what he was capable of in theory, you knew that all powers had limits and prices, that there were abilities that only revealed themselves in the face of death and could rarely be used outside of such dire circumstances again.

His powers had felt unchained. Like something had been broken and cracked wide open.

"What do we do?" Areth shouted as soon as she popped everyone into existence again down the hall, the three of you bolting. "Sorrel?"

Her brother didn't answer and she hissed a curse, following you as you led them down the stairs, your mind racing.

Starlight didn't actually want a fight, that defeated the purpose of bowing. That defeated the purpose of him becoming the god of everything.

For that was what he wanted, what his heart song had tried to carve into your very flesh, forcing you to listen, forcing you to bend and kneel. To accept his reality as your own -

Reality.

You jerked to a stop, eyes wide as you turned to Vision, his heart song terrified-horrified-hopeless.

"Go," you told Areth. "Help distract the other heroes, we need all the time we can get."

"Don't die, either of you," Areth hissed viciously, Sorrel finally appearing out of a shadowed corner, only to get snatched up by her as they vanished the next second.

"There has to be something we can do." Your voice came out as a whisper and you reached out to grip Vision, who clung to you like you were an anchor in a storm. "Vision, focus – Silas!"

He jerked, his heart song changing to shocked-surprised-startled. But he was focusing now, no longer lost in the throes of whatever he had seen.

"I know, I always knew." You reached out to grip the sides of his face, palms clasping cold metal and the walls around you started to shimmer silver-golden. "Silas, tell me what you saw."

"The end of everything," he whispered, voice trembling in a way you had never heard. "He's going to destroy the world. His powers aren't supposed to touch reality, but he will try anyway and the world, the universe will fight back. That's why he gathered all these people. The more minds accept his reality over fucking reality itself, the more it will give in to him."

Because the universe represented what was true and real and if he became the new truth...then that was what would happen. And no one could fight back.

"He's going to do it now," Vision whispered. "I saw it. Nothing we do can change that. We're already too late."

"How did he get that strong, can you look?" you asked and you felt him focus, felt his emotions flicker, only for something grim and resigned to settle over him.

"Nothing we can undo. He –" Vision's grip on your arms tightened. "He ruined himself for this. Cracked himself with his own powers until he could destroy all of his limits. He can only use his powers like this once, he needs to realign reality or it will kill him."

You knew that people could lose their physical limits with the help of adrenaline, breaking bones and tearing tendons and muscle in an exchange for unreal feats of strength.

You had never thought about what someone with superpowers could do if they removed any and all limitations of their powers.

"He's starting," Vision whispered. "It doesn't matter that we got away. We're too late. There are too many people here."

The ground beneath you started to shimmer and you could taste Starlight's powers in the air. You could sense him now, could sense as he walked to the front of the building, as he jumped outside to call out to the masses.

You could sense as everyone stopped running and panicking, all eyes focusing on him. His power grew thicker and more cloying in the air and you had precious seconds left, the building around you threatening to get swallowed whole and you with it.

You were not going to survive this attempt to change reality.

Until Vision gasped, gripping you tightly and suddenly you felt yourself get dragged with him, like you got jerked forward then back again and time stilled and stopped around you.

He was breathing hard, terror and panic bright in his heart song until he realized how still everything had gotten.

"Your powers," you murmured, eyes wide. "They're trying to save you."

"Us," Vision whispered back, fingers tightening on yours further. "Don't let go, Cloud." He lifted his head, looking around and you wished you could see his eyes at least one last time. "Can you hear that?"

You couldn't, but when he pulled you onward you followed. It felt a little like you weighed nothing, like the air had turned to water and you were drifting along with every step. Was this how he experienced visions?

Were your bodies going to stay behind or did you move through this version of time?

Vision lead you out of the city hall to where Starlight stood in all his glory, skin glowing and filled with stars and people staring up at him in awe.

You could see the cracks all over him, as though he was going to shatter like porcelain and if he did, he'd destroy so much. He'd kill so many. He had to stop, but you knew he wouldn't. His heart was too dark.

And then you heard it and now you were the one dragging Vision forward until you stood right by Starlight, eyes wide as you saw the song that slowly started to circle around him.

Your own powers had gone haywire you realized. Your own powers had, for this moment, torn down barriers that normally would have been there.

You had no idea if Vision's and your powers had somehow clicked together to make this happen, or if they still worked independent. Merging powers wasn't impossible, especially elemental powers could easily work together, but this...this felt like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.

You listened to the song and tears started to gather in your eyes.

"Cloud?" Vision asked and when you tore your gaze away to look at him, you saw that he had yanked off his helmet. "Can you fix it?"

Your smile was wobbly and your heart broke, cracking open like a raw egg and oozing all over your insides. There was nothing but resigned pain. "I can."

His grip tightened. "What's the price?"

Because everything had a price. Starlight's unhinged powers demanded his life – unless he changed the universe itself and demanded it to keep him whole.

You had no idea what price Vision was currently paying, but looking at how he was slowly starting to tremble all over, you could guess that it was going to drain him to death if he didn't let go soon.

"Memories," you answered, a sudden grief gripping you. "Starlight will have to forget everything, it's the only way to stop him." Or he'd try the same thing over and over and over until he was dead.

Vision's no, this was Silas before you now. Silas' gaze searched yours. "And we?"

You knew the nature of songs. You knew what every melody meant, where it came from, what motivated it and how intensely it was felt. You closed your eyes for a moment, willing the tears to not fall.

"We cannot remember the song, we cannot remember this moment. We're cannot remember what Starlight is capable of and what he's doing." You took a ragged breath. "We'll forget each other."

You had to. Vision had to forget how he came to this place, what his powers were capable of and you had to forget a song like the one before you existed. Everything had to be erased, from the very beginning of his plans, to ensure Starlight would never do this again.

"What if I run?" he asked. "If I don't hear it -" He stared at Starlight, at the powers on the cusp of being unleashed in all their terrible, world shattering glory.

There was no running. He'd hear the song and it would erase everything. Everything that had led to this moment in time, everything about Starlight and his plans had to disappear so what he intended to do could never be reenacted again. By no one.

Had you known each other before this mess, enough memories would have remained, but...you hadn't. Starlight had brought you together, as little as you had known it at the time.

And everything needed to be erased so everything could be saved. Not even an inkling of Starlight's machinations could remain. This song was going to erase everything.

"No, I won't forget you. I refuse to." Silas' grip on your hand was almost painfully tight as he tossed his helmet aside and it disappeared, vanishing as it left the timeless space you were stuck in. For now. He was quickly losing strength. "There is so much I have to tell you, I wanted to tell you -"

"I love you." The words escaped you unbidden and he closed his eyes, his heart song nearly making you cry. Your own tears made your voice wobble, "You have the best heart song I ever heard, did you know that?"

"I never believed in soulmates until I met you," he answered. "I never thought there could possibly ever be someone who would become this important to me. Who felt like I was destined to meet them."

Maybe you had been. Maybe there had been a grand design in the universe itself so the two of you met, so you both could be right here at this exact moment, stopping the destruction of everything. Some things should remain untouched no matter what.

You heard soft little cracks all around you as the timeless bubble started to weaken, chunks breaking away.

"I love you," Silas whispered, pulling you close to press his forehead to yours. "I promise I will find you again, no matter what. I'll find you and I will always love you."

You smiled and kissed his cheek before your lips found each other. The kiss tasted of salt. "And I will find you," you whispered just as time shattered and you inhaled.

The song flowed like none other had from your lungs, your eyes squeezed shut. You vaguely heard Vision curse and throw himself forward, intercepting Starlight as he tried to lunge for you, a deeply wounded noise coming from the hero, an almost animalistic screech.

You sang and slowly, everything grew quiet and still. The last thing you were aware of was someone getting thrown across the plaza by a tall, powerful man and your memories disappearing like dust in the wind.

When the last sound vanished, you stood still, the world around you silent in a way it shouldn't be.

Slowly, noise filtered back, people shifting, confusion-bafflement-calm filling the air around you. You blinked your eyes open, blinking in surprise when you noticed that you stood on the front steps of the city hall.

What were you doing here? And why was Starlight on his knees beside you, looking like he had lost everything and didn't know why he felt that way?

His heart song was unpleasant but muddled. A helmet laid near you, blank and black and metallic, reminding you of something the villain Vision might have worn.

Something tickled your jaw and you reached up to wipe at it, pulling back your fingers to look at clear liquid.

Why were you crying?

*.*.*

Tag List:

@those-damn-snippets @the-cash-cache @queenofbooknerds @14-lizards-in-a-trenchcoat @fern-writes-whump @bexterbaileyw @setsailforthestars @piperjistic @addrai @catloverlawyer @permanentlydepressedpigeon @tama-on-vetta @aprilraine @warriorofbooks @pigeonwhumps @laureleikirsch @sillypeachduck @dracanea @fractalabomination @basilikum7 @labelleizzy @tikatu

#my writing #short story #long short story #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero x villain #how do I tag this mess #I hope this turned out alright #i am a bit nervous about this story #let me know if there are any warnings I overlooked and forgot to mention

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queensharotto · 9 months

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Brittle Doughie’s Cookie Run x Reader Masterlist (Part 3: Early 2023)

A masterlist of @brittle-doughie’s Cookie Run stories organized by month.

Genre Emojis

😞 is for angst, 🎃 is for Halloween, 🎄 is for Christmas, 🍪 is for Cannibalism, 💗 is for Yandere, 💝 is for Valentine’s, 👻 is for Horror, 🎂 is for Birthday, 💚 is for Yandere!White Lily Cookie

The Indents are related to the featured cookies. If there are numerous cookies (Over 10 Cookies Featured), I’ll make a note on that as well. Additionally, I’ll categorize various cookies if they’re associated with a specific hobby, location, food etc.

Also, the ⭐️ will indicate a story featuring one of Brittle’s OCs.

January 2023 ❄️

• “Molded, Battered, Whole”

Featuring: The Five Dragons

• “Y/N Cookie getting Injured”

Featuring: Pomegranate Cookie, Mala Sauce Cookie, Black Raisin Cookie, Financier Cookie and Princess Cookie

• “Foul Play” 💗

Featuring: The Cherry Stars

• “Seize the Spin”

Featuring: Numerous Cookies

• “Face the Music!”

Featuring: Gingerbrave and Friends, B.A.D 4, Manager Scarlet and Producer D.K.E.C

• “Two Sides of a Coin”

Featuring: Hollyberry Cookie

• “New Time Balance Department Cookies”

Featuring: The Time Balance Department

• “Sands of the Sale”

Featuring: Yogurt Cream Cookie and Lilac Cookie

• “Memories”

Featuring: Numerous Cookies

• “Coworkers Delight”

Featuring: Maple Taffy Cookie

• “Spared No Expense 2”

Featuring: Cheesecake Cookie

• “Y/N Cookie’s Valentine’s Day Experience” 💝

Featuring: Numerous Cookies

• “A Fish in a Barrel”

Featuring: Affogato Cookie and the Cookies of the Dark Cacao Kingdom

• “Good Day for Walks”

Featuring: Pure Vanilla Cookie

• “A Handycookie’s Expertise”

Featuring: Coffee Candy Cookie, Baguette Cookie, Dark Fondue Cookie, Maple Taffy Cookie and Marble Bread Cookie

• “Chaos and Control”

Featuring: Twizzly Gummy Cookie and her Gang

• “House is Where The Heart Is”

Featuring: Raspberry Mousse Cookie

• “The Serenity or The Charismatic”

Featuring: Pure Vanilla Cookie and Clotted Cream Cookie

• “Eternity”

Featuring: Snow Sugar Cookie

• “Interactions with Milky Way Cookie during Episode 15”

Featuring: Milky Way Cookie

• “Y/N Cookie Dislikes People Yelling”

Featuring: Hollyberry Cookie, Purple Yam Cookie, Carol Cookie, and Caramel Arrow Cookie

• “No Deed Goes Unnoticed”

Featuring: The Cookies of the Dark Cacao Kingdom

• “At Your Beck and Call”

Featuring: The Pearl Legion and House Custard Soldiers

• “Ayo, Their Pouch Responses”

Featuring: Sea Fairy Cookie and Moonlight Cookie

• “No Dice” 💗

Featuring: Clotted Cream Cookie and the Ancient Cookies

• “Undeserving”

Featuring: Affogato Cookie’s Disciples, Dark Cacao Cookie, Adventurer Cookie, and Captain Ice Cookie

• “But the Dance is Today!”

Featuring: Cookies of the Hollyberry Kingdom

• “Y/N Cookie’s Tailoring Hobby”

Featuring: The Tailor Cookies

• “Lost Amidst Matrimony” 😞💗

Featuring: Pure Vanilla Cookie and White Lily Cookie

• “Sweet Heartmender” 💝

Featuring: Blue Lily Cookie and Lilybell Cookie

• “Burger Chain Backfire”

Featuring: Reporter Cookie and Shining Glitter Cookie

February 2023 💝

• “Antagonized”

Featuring: Almond Cookie, Truffle Cookie, Butter Pretzel Cookie, Lollipop Cookie, and Melon Bun Cookie

• “Even More Heartbreak”

Featuring: Black Pearl Cookie, Captain Caviar Cookie, and Seaweed Cookie

• “Star of the Industry” ⭐️

Featuring: Dumpling Cookie (debut), Reporter Cookie, and various Music Cookies

• “The Sugar Swan’s Treasure”

Featuring: The Sugar Swan

• “Y/N Cookie Blurbs”

Featuring: Various Cookies

• “Pet Times”

Featuring: Carrot Cookie, Cheesecake Cookie, and Baguette Cookie

• “Y/N Cookie’s First Encounter with Stardust Cookie”

Featuring: Stardust Cookie and Moonlight Cookie

• “Moon Pie Cookie”

Featuring: Moonlight Cookie

• “Tales of Sweetness” 💝

Featuring: Carrot Cookie, Beet Cookie, Red Velvet Cookie, Pomegranate Cookie and Light Cream Cookie

• “If Y/N Cookie Hated Someone”

Featuring: Dark Choco Cookie, Pomegranate Cookie, Affogato Cookie, Ice Juggler Cookie and Cocoa Cookie

• “Movie Star Y/N Cookie”

Featuring: Cheesecake Cookie, Blackberry Cookie, Cocoa Cookie, Mint Choco Cookie, Tea Knight Cookie, Eclair Cookie, Twizzly Gummy Cookie and Shining Glitter Cookie

• “Duel of Hearts”

Featuring: White Choco Cookie and Rose Cookie

• “A Very Much Invited Guest”

Featuring: The Cookies of the Hollyberry Kingdom

• “Fashion Week 2?”

Featuring: Cheesecake Cookie, Chestnut Cookie, and the Tailor Cookies

• “Po-tay-to, Po-tah-to”

Featuring: The Vegetable Cookies

March 2023 🌱

• “Artist Y/N Cookie”

Featuring: Butter Pretzel Cookie, Cheesecake Cookie, Truffle Cookie and Pastry Cookie

• “Y/N Cookie’s Costume Concepts”

Featuring: Numerous Cookies

• “Drawings for the Little Cookies”

Featuring: Lollipop Cookie, Walnut Cookie, Onion Cookie and Strawberry Crepe Cookie

• “Ya Like Raisin Buns?”

Featuring: Black Raisin Cookie

• “Sweetheart Timekeeper Cookie” 💝

Featuring: Timekeeper Cookie

• “Stress from a Job”

Featuring: Baguette Cookie, Almond Cookie, Pizza Cookie, Dr. Bones Cookie and Kumiho Cookie

• “Ancient Y/N Cookie’s All Nighters”

Featuring: The Ancient Cookies

• “Y/N Cookie being part of a Royal Family”

Featuring: Madeleine Cookie, Financier Cookie, Red Velvet Cookie, Chocolate Bonbon Cookie and Rougefort Cookie

• “Y/N Cookie having a Nightmare”

Featuring: Moonlight Cookie, Milky Way Cookie and Stardust Cookie

• “Downstream: Part 1”

Featuring: Affogato Cookie and the Cookies of the Dark Cacao Kingdom

• “Group Findings”

Featuring: Cauliflower Cookie and Peperoncino Cookie

• “Volunteering to be a parent to Y/N Cookie’s child (Part 1)”

Featuring: Numerous Cookies

• “Sea Fairy x Y/N Cookie”

Featuring: Sea Fairy Cookie

• “A Jammed Heart” 😞

Featuring: Chocolate Frosting Cookie

• “Croissant Cookie vs. Timekeeper Cookie”

Featuring: Croissant Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie, Coffee Candy Cookie and Dark Fondue Cookie

April 2023 ☔️

• “A Forced Hand” ⭐️

Featuring: Salsa Cookie (debut) and the Ancient Cookies

• “Y/N Cookie in Scovillia”

Featuring: Scovillia Headmaster, Capsaicin Cookie, Parfaedia Principal, Prune Juice Cookie, Creme Knights Preceptor and Kouign-Amann Cookie

• “From Afar”

Featuring: Chocolate Bonbon Cookie, Croissant Cookie, Sour Belt Cookie and Lime Cookie

• “Kindred Souls”

Featuring: Milk Cookie

• “Y/N Cookie Comforting Centipede Cookie”

Featuring: Centipede Cookie, Lilac Cookie and Scorpion Cookie

• “Chocolate Frosting Cookie trying to redeem herself”

Featuring: Chocolate Frosting Cookie, Croissant Cookie, Coffee Candy Cookie, Dark Fondue Cookie and Timekeeper Cookie

• “The Pudding Cup Circus”

Featuring: Banana Cookie, Ice Juggler Cookie, Licorice Cookie and Pomegranate Cookie

• “Cookies of Darkness Go to the Movies”

Featuring: The Cookies of Darkness

• “Volunteering to be a parent to Y/N Cookie’s child (Part 2)”

Featuring: Financier Cookie, Pure Vanilla Cookie, Red Velvet Cookie, Madeleine Cookie, Captain Caviar Cookie and Clotted Cream Cookie

• “Exiled from their Kingdom: The Darkness’s Offering”

Featuring: The Cookies of Darkness

• “No Simp September”

Featuring: Hollyberry Cookie, Kumiho Cookie, Frost Queen Cookie, Blueberry Pie Cookie and Princess Cookie

• “I’ll Miss You” 😞

Featuring: The Ancient Cookies

• “The Incorrect Quote Cookie Jar #2”

Featuring: Numerous Cookies

• “Y/N Cookie in the Crème Knights”

Featuring: Financier Cookie, Vanilla Sugar Cookie, Kouign-Amann Cookie, Prune Juice Cookie and Capsaicin Cookie

Divider Source l Next Masterlist l Previous Masterlist

#brittle doughie masterlists #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run #yandere cookie run #cookie run angst #cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #yandere cookie run kingdom #crk #crob

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dandelionsresilience · 2 months

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Good News - August 1-7

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!

1. Zoo hails birth of 'one of world's rarest animals'

“[Jasper] the Persian onager was born to mum Azita after a year-long pregnancy. […] Conservationists at the zoo said there are less than 600 surviving wild onagers[, … which] only survive in two small, protected areas in Iran, a Chester Zoo spokesman said. […] Mike Jordan, animal and plant director at Chester Zoo, […] said Jasper is "doing very well" and added that "mum Azita is doing a fantastic job of nurturing and bonding with her new charge". "He’s full of energy and enjoys playfully kicking up sand as he races around his habitat", Mr Jordan added.”

2. Charity creates 50 community orchards in city

“Community orchards are returning to Birmingham, with the aim of teaching people how to grow their own food and be part of the solution to climate change. […] Once established, the long-term aim is to distribute the produce to those most in need, but local people are also invited to pick the odd bit of fruit. […] By planting trees and plants and encouraging biodiversity back to these areas the charity is also doing its bit to help climate change. They even use locally sourced wood chip which helps to put carbon back into the soil. […T]he hope is that these edible landscapes can also be enjoyed by local people for years to come.”

3. Farmer-led badger vaccination could revolutionize mission to tackle bovine TB

“[… T]he results of a four-year pilot badger vaccination program co-managed between farmers, scientists, and conservationists […] show the percentage of badgers testing positive for bovine tuberculosis (bTB) in the study area dropped from 16% to 0%[….] While most bTB incidents in cattle are caused by transmission between herds, transmission from wild badgers plays a role in the persistence of the disease. […] Blood sampling showed that the proportion of badgers with bTB fell even though overall badger numbers remained high[….]”

4. Every Colorado Anti-Trans Ballot Initiative Fails To Collect Enough Signatures

“Anti-transgender politics are becoming increasingly unpopular in polls. […] A recent LA Times/NORC poll found that 77% of voters believe elected officials use transgender debates to divert attention from more pressing issues. The poll also showed significant opposition to forced outing policies. […] A Gallup poll published in June revealed that while Americans have mixed views on the morality of transitioning, the majority oppose bans on gender-affirming care for trans youth. […] “The fact that they could not get enough signatures, barely half, to be placed on the ballot shows they lack support from everyday voters.”

5. In a fight to save a rare bird, Indigenous communities in Guyana are winning

“The partnership [between Indigenous communities and Smithsonian researchers] sparked a decades-long community-led conservation movement that has protected the red siskin and helped locals reconnect with nature. [… T]he South Rupununi Conservation Society […] established one of the country’s first conservation zones to protect the species, covering 75,000 hectares (185,000 acres) of Indigenous land. […] To plant the seeds of conservation, they’ve implemented an after-school program in more than 16 communities, [introducing children] to ecological research and surveying, and also [teaching] about Indigenous culture and tradition, including fire management skills.”

6. North Adams hospital gets federal designation which pays for health care in rural areas

“[The hospital] received a federal designation on Wednesday that is key to its long-term financial stability. […] The designation pays for staffing regardless of the number of patients[… and] “works to resolve stark inequities in rural and underserved communities as it relates to our nation’s health system."”

7. Andrea Vidaurre: Leading the clean transportation revolution

“Thanks to Vidaurre’s relentless advocacy and strong community support, these regulations introduced the first national standards for train emissions and set a groundbreaking goal for all freight trucks to be zero-emission by 2036. This initiative promises cleaner air for Californians and paves the way for a zero-emission vehicle future across the country. Studies predict these measures will prevent thousands of respiratory illnesses and save countless lives in the coming decades.”

8. Boston announces a new climate resilience office

“Through its Climate Ready Boston initiative, the city has worked to […] design creative adaptation plans with community input[, …] includ[ing] everything from redesigning waterfront parks and planting more trees, to modernizing the city’s underground sewer system[….] The Office of Climate Resilience will be in charge of coordinating work across city departments and with community groups[….]”

9. Combining Green Thumbs and Sustainable Fashion in a Swap Event

“This unique plant and clothing swap event in NSW is championing both environmental and fashion sustainability through native plants and preloved clothing. […] To participate in the plant swap, attendees brought their environmental weeds in a bag to the Council stall and exchanged them for free native plants. […] The event sparked valuable community conversations about the benefits of plant and clothes swaps, the impact of textile waste[, …] support a circular economy and combine a love for nature with practical, eco-friendly practices.”

10. Growing Green Spaces to Protect the Endangered Regent Parrot

“On Schools Tree Day, celebrated on 26 July, students from a local NSW school planted trees and shrubs to create crucial forage habitat for the endangered Regent Parrot, enhancing local biodiversity. […] Approximately 50 [… plants of] native species were chosen for their ecological benefits, helping to attract native birds, bees and butterflies while providing essential habitat and food. […] They [also] raise awareness about the regent parrot, encourage conservation efforts and emphasise the importance of protecting local wildlife. Additionally, conserving [the regent parrot] supports the health of their ecosystem by helping with in [sic] seed dispersal and maintaining plant diversity.”

July 22-28 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

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tiredwitchplant · 1 year

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How to Use Herbs: Basil (Sweet Basil)

Hwello again! This time we shall be talking about how to use basil in different forms. If you want more information about basil, please click this link to get to my basil post: Basil Let's get started.

Alchemist Formulas:

*Remember always try to see one part as a teaspoon before going into other measurements. Doing a smaller amount first and then trial and error is better than making too much and a mess.

Mars:

two parts red sandalwood

one part honeysuckle flowers

one part basil

one part ginger oil

one part juniper oil

Health

one part frankincense (Sun; vitality)

one part basil (Mars; energy)

one part cinnamon (Mercury; nervous system)

one part bay oil (Sun; health)

one part sandalwood oil (Moon; Inner Self)

Oils

Basil Essential Oil:

Ingredients

12 ounces olive oil

2 ounces basil, 1 packed cup

Remove basil leaves from stems.

Place olive oil in a pint sized mason jar.

Carefully stuff basil into mason jar and close the lid.

Store on a sunny windowsill for 1 day.

Use a funnel to strain oil and a spoon to smash last bits of oil out of leaves and discard the leaves.

Transfer oil to a decorative jar and refrigerate for up to 1 week.

Prosperity Oil:

1 part mint

1 part basil

1 part cinnamon

1 part pine

Carrier oil of your choice (olive oil, jojoba oil and etc)

Simply take a small mason jar and fill it a 1/4 of the way up with your chosen oil.

Add in your herbs while thinking of your intentions of prosperity and abundance and swirl the jar around clockwise.

Then add a little bit more of the oil before closing the lid.

Awakening Oil:

*This needs to crafted on a full moon

1/4 cup carrier oil

Mason jar

2 drops of basil oil

2 drops of thyme oil

Pour your carrier oil into the mason jar and then added the drops of thyme and basil

Swirl it gently in a clockwise direction so it will mix thoroughly. Say, "I awaken, I listen, I see. Enlightenment come to me. Awareness, mindfulness, clarity. Illumination come to me."

Anoint your temples on your head and pulse points with your oil before doing divination work.

Spells

Basil Growth Spell

Chop fresh basil into fine threads.

Warm honey gently over the stove. (A double boiler or bain-marie is recommended, as honey scorches easily.)

Add the basil to the honey and simmer.

Remove the basil-enhanced honey from the source of heat and murmur over it something like this: "Flies flocks to honey, Customers flock to me, Bears flock to honey, Business flocks to me, Ants flock to honey, Contracts flock to me."

Run a warm bath for yourself.

Rub the honey over your body, and then enter the bath.

Soak in the water for a while. When you emerge, before you drain the water, reserve some of the used bathwater.

Toss this on the grounds of your business.

Sex Worker’s Better Business Spell

Dress a lodestone , a magnetite rock, with essential oils of basil, bergamot, and lavender. (In theory, the lodestones' gender may be coordinated with the gender of the clientele you wish to draw.)

Sprinkle with magnetic sand and a pinch of ground cinnamon.

Carry or wear to charm up added business.

Exorcism Powder

Blend the following ingredients together and grind into a fine powder:

Dried basil

Frankincense

Rosemary

Rue

Yarrow

2. Blend this powder with arrowroot powder.

3. Sprinkle as needed.

Basil Cleansing Bath

Pour approximately one cup of boiling water over one heaped teaspoon of dried basil.

Allow this to stand until the water cools, creating a strong infusion.

Add this to your bath.

Financial Dreams (For Solutions)

Sprinkle either infused basil oil or essential oil of basil onto a lodestone, just before going to sleep.

Get into bed, turn out the lights and gently rub the scented lodestone in a sunwise direction on your forehead. (When you awake, your forehead will probably be dirty. Don’t panic; lodestone dust is lucky.)

Keep the lodestone near the bed, so that you can inhale the basil

Since two of these spells ask for lodestone, here is where you can get some and arrowroot powder. Lodestone , Arrowroot Powder

Kitchen Witch Recipe:

Wisdom Soup

Serves: 4

Prep Time: 30 minutes

Cooking Time: 30 minutes, plus a little bit until it’s just right

1 cup red lentils

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 can coconut milk

1 lime, sliced into thin wheels

Oil Options: Olive oil, toasted sesame oil

Sour Options: lemon juice, lime juice, rice vinegar

1 onion, diced

Sweet Options: Sugar, honey, agave

2 sprigs basil, de-stemmed and chopped

Salt Options: Soy sauce, sea salt, sweet miso (make a paste with miso and water before adding)

2 inches fresh ginger, minced

2 cups water

2 sprigs cilantro, de-stemmed and chopped

2 sprigs mint, de-stemmed and chopped

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

In a pot, place the lentils, coconut milk, and water, and bring to a boil.

Reduce heat and simmer.

Add the onion, garlic, ginger, cayenne.Stir. Do not cover.

Once the lentils are cooked and not firm (about 15–20 minutes), add one thing from the sour category, one from the sweet category, one from the salty, and some oil (add about a teaspoon of oil at a time). Taste. Repeat with a different item from each category.

Garnish with sliced wheels of lime and minced-up basil, mint, and cilantro.

I hope you enjoy these spells, recipes, and formulas and put them to good use. Use them wisely and bye byes~

Sources

195 notes · View notes

infernalodie · 1 year

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐮𝐧 || 𝐋𝐞𝐱𝐢 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘐 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳"

Inspo: Tori Kelly - young gun

Pairing: Lexi Howard x Black!Male!reader

Summary: You did everything to make her feel worth it, but she gained it from another...

Warnings: slight angst with a bit of sad fluff

Words: 1450

The stars hung high tonight. Their glow brightened this particular night.

Sand shifted beneath your feet with the minuscule rocks pressing against them gently. And the ocean collapsed and washed up on the shore in a certain rhythm. Its harsh smell can be blocked out by the pure beauty of the moon’s shape reflecting off its surface.

It was tragic. If there was any way you could set it all on fire, you would. Maybe you would find comfort in the flame and get lost in it. But removing the time capsule of the memories connected would fucking destroy you. Because that would ultimately mean giving up moments of joy and raw love you’d felt then.

On a none systematic point, the time so fondly thought upon was wild and random. It was the peak of your high school life and where you had ventured further from your friend group. Seeking out people to make friends with or finally making your move on Lexi Howard. The girl who had been your MJ since grade school.

She told you everything that she loved and one of them was the ocean. How it looked in the night and how it felt more natural being here than in her skin at times. And you strove to make her feel worth it and more.

You gave up the vices you sought comfort in. You were content. But she flipped the world upside down and made your heart swollen. Just receiving a mere glance from her would make you stumble over your words like an idiot. Or hearing her laugh would make you choke on your breath.

There wasn’t much you wouldn’t do for Lexi. To only know that these feats you had managed for this girl would end up with her in the passenger seat with a drug dealer.

And maybe you still would’ve done these things. Maybe you wouldn’t have swam into the ocean and grabbed shells to gift her. Or the amount of money you had spent taking her on road trips. All of these had stacked up to the point where you could’ve been in financial ruin–but you loved her still.

Even now, standing at this beach with the continuous waves hitting the tips of your shoes, you managed to think so fondly of those memories despite how they turned out for you.

Looking to your right, you saw the group of classmates you spent years with. A class reunion. Maddy was still enjoying life and taking it by the balls. Spending time with celebrities in L.A. Cassie, well, she was nowhere to be found. Rue was living happily with Jules–still healthy after getting sober all those years ago. And Lexi was going big with her plays in New York. She was a full-scale writer and set designer.

But you? You went to school and pursued cooking. Got out of school and quickly realize that there was little to nothing you had entitled to. So, you moved. There had been no destined location in mind. You were managing to get by at some of the restaurants you worked at and as shitty as it sounded, you were happy. It was just a matter of time before you caught a break and could feel that pay off after everything you’ve been through.

It was beautiful, to say the least. Seeing all your friends here, hearing everything they’ve been up to. It made you wonder why you had even thought that coming here would be a terrible idea.

The shifting of sand under footsteps drew your attention. Turning to find Lexi with a sheepish smile, hands clasped around a red solo cup. “How’s life treating you, Y/n?”

Maybe it had been the timing and the greeting because of your prior thoughts, but you smiled. Letting a soft chuckle slip from your lips as you shrugged, shoving your hands into your denim pockets.

“Jumping from location to location has its perks. Get to see places I never thought existed,” you explained, exhaling heavily. “But it can’t be as good as being a big-time playwriter, right?”

Lexi shrugged bashfully, smiling up at you. “I wouldn’t say big-time, Y/n. But it’s been my dream and I’m getting to live through it. So, it’s been good.”

It was hard maintaining any conversation with her without it dissolving into remnants of your favourite memories. Sparking those forgotten emotions might be the worse thing you could do tonight. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you likely wouldn’t see her again after tonight. Just by fate or the decision to try and forget her for your sake.

“How’s Fez?” You inquired suddenly, clearing your throat and looking down at your feet.

“He’s Fez,” she laughed, “Still working tirelessly and still using his head to make ends meet on his end.”

“I heard you guys are having a kid.” It hurt seeing it on Facebook. Seeing how ecstatic she’d been with the news and how everyone was happy for her. And as much as you didn’t want to be selfish or weird, you’d imagined the two of you to have kids. Start a family in New York and strive for both of your guys’ dreams. But as much as your soul hurt, you were happy for her. “You thought of any names for it?”

Lexi laughed. “It?” She repeated giggling. “We haven’t thought of a name for her yet. But, I haven’t been able to sleep because names keep bouncing around in my head.”

You smiled, humming, deep in thought. That was something you’d be on the receiving end of hearing - especially from her. Maybe it was just you grasping the final pieces of reality, but it still shook you to your core hearing and acknowledging she was having a kid with Fez.

Sighing, Lexi looked out at the ocean and smiled. “Been a while since we’ve been here together, huh?”

“Yeah, 10 years or so, right?”

Lexi nodded, exhaling softly. “You know, I never told you how much of an influence you’ve had in my life,” she breathed. “Like, I don’t think I would’ve gone for my dreams without you.”

You blew a raspberry, shaking your head. “Nah, I didn’t do much.” You glanced down at her, sparing a pitiful smile. Truthfully, you don’t think you were in any way connected to her motivation or drive to pursue her dreams. If anything, you resembled a mosquito in the back of her mind that wouldn’t leave her alone.

But it did feel nice to live with that little bit of pride and happiness. Even if it was for such a short period of time.

“I don’t think you even realize the power you had.” Lexi looked up at you in question. Seeing that faint smile on your lips as you scoffed, shaking your head. “You had this thing about you. Like, you could give confidence to anyone who needed it. You appear in a room–it would clear everyone out and give you the center stage, you know what I mean?”

Lexi nibbled on her bottom lip, watching you turn to her with a sigh. “And despite how I feel and how much I love you, I am so fucking proud of you, Lexi. Really. You deserve all of what you have. The kid, Fez, the job. You deserve every-fucking-bit of it.” Hesitantly, you placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair, smiling when she grumbled. “Remember your worth, Lex. You are amazing. Don’t ever forget that.”

Leaning down, you kissed her head before brushing past her. So quick yet so gentle, it felt like a gust of wind danced past her. And it took a few moments for her to realize your words before she spun around to see your fleeting figure. It becomes disfigured in the darkness of the night with only the moonlight giving way of your departure.

She couldn’t contain the tears that stung the brim of her eyes. A natural heat of emotions blossomed and enveloped her entire face as she squinted, wanting to take in the last bit of you and take in every detail. “Y/n! What do you mean?”

You stopped for a moment, stuffing your hands in your pockets and turning toward her, smiling softly. “It’s something I never got to tell you before you left Highland. Maybe things would’ve been different if I did.” A tear slid down your cheek as you chuckled sadly. “But you need to know that talking to you and getting to know you has been the greatest thing in my life.”

Nodding to yourself, almost looking like you were finalizing something, you said, “I hope I see you again, Lex.”

154 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 10 months

Text

Kinkslump Linkdump

This is my dozenth linkdump! The world comes at you fast, and even though I'm writing 4-5 essays a week for this newsletter, many's the week that ends with more stray links than will fit in that format. Here's the previous ones:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

I managed to turn out five posts last week, despite being on tour with my latest novel, The Lost Cause, a hopeful solarpunk novel endorsed by Rebecca Solnit, Bill McKibben and Kim Stanley Robinson. The tour went great – the book's now a national bestseller on the USA Today list! Here's an essay I wrote explaining the structure of the feeling that the book is meant to convey:

https://www.torforgeblog.com/2023/11/14/cory-doctorow-the-swerve/

This is a climate emergency novel full of rising seas, terrible storms, wildfires and zoonotic plagues, and yet – it is a hopeful novel. What makes it hopeful? It depicts a future in which we are treating these phenomena with the gravitas and urgency they warrant, with our whole society's focus shifting to moving coastal cities inland, weatherizing and solarizing our housing, and creating permanent housing for internal refugees.

While it would be infinitely preferable to live in a world where none of that is necessary, that's not the world we have. This is an sf novel, not a fantasy novel, so all the climate harms we've locked in through decades of expensively procured inaction are present. But the difference between disaster and catastrophe is how and whether we address those harms. Sure, this is a world where superstorms wipe away whole cities and Miami is a drowned mangrove swamp, but it's also a world in which oil executives do not chair UN climate summits or complain that oil companies are being "unjustly vilified":

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/11/27/opec-says-oil-industry-unjustly-vilified-ahead-of-climate-talks-.html

I write a lot, and it's not just this newsletter. Writing transports me from my anxieties and aches. That's how I came to write nine books during lockdown ("when life gives you SARS, make sarsaparilla"). Lost Cause was one of three books I published in 2023.

I'm going to greet 2024 with another novel, The Bezzle, a sequel to 2023's Red Team Blues, about the hard-charging, high-tech forensic accountant Marty Hench:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

The Bezzle is a story about the shitty technology adoption curve – the way that the worst technologies we have are first rolled out on the people least able to complain about them. After these bad technologies have their sharp edges sanded down on the bodies of prisoners, refugees and kids, they move up to blue collar workers and discount store shoppers, and so on, until we're all living under their thumb.

In The Bezzle, a dear friend of Marty finds himself serving a long sentence in a privatized California prison that flips from one private equity fund to the next, each with even worse, more extractive ways to use technology to bleed prisoners and their families dry. You can read the opening scenes in a just-published excerpt on Tor Books's site:

https://www.torforgeblog.com/2023/11/20/excerpt-reveal-the-bezzle-by-cory-doctorow/

The period immediately before a book's publication is always a tense one, as the first reviews trickle in. Library Journal's Marlene Harris is the first out of the gate, with a spectacular review:

https://www.libraryjournal.com/review/the-bezzle-1802415

Marty’s reminiscences range from obscure financial machinations to heaping helpings of social commentary but always move the underlying thriller story forward in a backwards heist tale that delivers a righteously satisfying ending to the surprise of both the reader and the villain. This novel, like his previous outing, rides on Marty’s voice. He has a jaundiced view of everything, but he tells it with such style and verve that readers are caught up and ride along on the surface until the shark beneath the water jumps out and bites the villain where it hurts.

I'm headed into Skyboat Media's studios on Monday with @wilwheaton to record the audiobook for this one, directed as ever by the amazing Gabrielle de Cuir. Keep your eyes peeled for a presale crowdfunder in January!

I am often asked how I decide when to present an idea through fiction and when to do so with nonfiction. The answer is a complicated one, and I got into it in some detail on Nature's Working Scientist podcast, in discussion with Paul Shrivastava:

https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-023-03394-8

When it comes to politics, fiction and nonfiction are intensely complementary. Nonfiction can convey the data about a social phenomenon, but fiction can convey the meaning of the data. It's one thing to see a chart about inequality, and another to inhabit it through fiction. Marty Hench's narrative adventures are a way into the feeling of living in a corrupt oligarchy.

There are other ways into that feeling, of course. Take Barry Bowen's "Lifestyles of the Blessed & Famous: Preacher Homes Sold in 2023" for The Roys Report:

https://julieroys.com/lifestyles-blessed-famous-preacher-homes-sold-2023/?mc_cid=9678383b64

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then carefully staged realtor drone shots ganked from the Redfin listing for a "pastor"'s $3.5m mansion in Newport Beach is a full-on sermon about the corruption of the Hillsong megachurch:

https://www.redfin.com/CA/Newport-Beach/503-30th-St-92663/home/12363926

Narratives and photos are all well and good, but there's always room for some data. The USA's weird breed of federalism and devolved power makes for some very interesting data. Writing for The American Prospect, Paul Starr rounds up several studies evaluating the "natural experiments" created by enacting very different policies in otherwise similar states:

https://prospect.org/health/2023-12-08-life-death-cost-conservative-power/

The data is in: conservativism kills. Living in a red state shortens your life expectancy. The redder the state, the worse it is. The bluer the state, the longer you're likely to live:

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/1468-0009.12469

The exemplars here are Connecticut and Oklahoma, whose life expectancies were at par until they began to diverge in policies. Oklahoma got more conservative, Connecticut got more liberal. Today, the average Oklahoman will pop their clogs at 75.8, while a Connecticutensian can expect 80.7 years.

Different scholars have parsed out different policy outcomes. Giving Medicaid to children, for example, shows benefits for the next 50 years:

https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/aer.20171671

The big one, of course, is gun control. Here's the topline: "restrictive state gun policies reduce overall gun deaths." Water also wet:

https://journals.lww.com/epidem/fulltext/2023/11000/the_era_of_progress_on_gun_mortality__state_gun.3.aspx

Fact-free spiritual beliefs like "an armed society is a polite society" are key to conservative policymaking. Pesky progressives who confuse the issue with relevant facts are playing dirty, pointing out reality's unfair leftist bias.

But after 40 years of neoliberal deference to corporate power, the worm is turning. Somehow, a world on fire, filled with megapastors in megamansions who brief for lethal policies, has finally inspired a global vibe-shift (and not a moment too soon!). One of the most tangible expressions of that shift is the revival of antitrust, which has been in a coma since the Reagan administration.

All over the world – the EU, the UK, Ireland, Australia, and the USA – there are new competition enforcers challenging corporate power in ways that were unthinkable just a few years ago. If I'd written an enforcer like FTC chair Lina Khan in 2010, critics would have slammed me for wish-fulfillment too unrealistic for science fiction.

But today, Khan is taking big swings at corporate power, fighting against a calcified edifice of decades of bad, pro-monopoly precedent. The pro-monopoly press hate her, which is why the WSJ keeps publishing sweaty op-eds insisting that she is wasting her time and that monopolies are good, actually:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion

But she is still out there, fighting for all of us. After a pro-monopoly judge stymied the FTC's bid to block the rotten Microsoft/Activision merger, Khan re-filed, appealing the decision:

https://www.reuters.com/markets/deals/us-ftc-tries-again-stop-microsofts-already-closed-deal-activision-2023-12-06/

Critics insist that she's on a foolish errand, but Khan is tackling the most promising face of a sheer cliff, and the plainly anticompetitive merger between one of the world's largest console makers (a convicted monopolist!) with one of the world's largest games publishers is the right place to start. If she can get her piton into one of the hairline cracks in that face, her arduous climb gains a solid anchor for the next stage of her assent.

Of course, Khan's highest-profile action is her case against Amazon, the omnipresent, dystopian poster-child for enshittification, a platform we can't avoid, but which is so haphazardly policed that the bestselling bitter lemon energy drink you order might be bottled piss harvested from its immiserated drivers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon

In a world of murderous, community-destroying monopolies, Amazon stands out for the sheer number of ways it makes the world worse. Amazon maims its warehouse workers and kills its drivers with impossible quotas. It poisons Black and brown neighborhoods with truck exhaust from its giant depots. It destroys small businesses that sell on its platform. It was part of the studio cabal scheming to destroy actors and writers' livelihoods with unfair contracts and AI. Its audiobook monopoly stole at least $100m from independent authors. It makes goods and services more expensive at every retailer (not just Amazon), and price-gouges on its own storefront:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

Keeping that scam going requires a lot of skullduggery. A new set of leaked internal Amazon documents shed some light on how that inedible sausage gets made:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/wxjbm9/amazon-brags-it-cultivated-california-mayor-with-donations-in-leaked-policy-document

Amazon's "Community Engagement Plan 2024" brags about buying off small-town mayors and astroturf groups in its bid to resist regulations that would limit warehouse delivery van emissions in communities of color (Amazon calls this "philanthropic work"). Coincidentally, that "philanthropy" targeted Perris, a town where residents voted for a warehouse tax to repair the roads that had been trashed by fleets of Amazon vans.

But the real focus of Amazon's "Community Engagement" is California's AB1000, a bill that will limit the construction of supersized, 100k+ sqft warehouses near daycare centers, schools or rec centers. Secondarily, Amazon is hoping to get California to make it easier to advertise alcohol around kids, to "unlock" California's liquor market.

This kind of shameless, mustache-twirling villainry can only go on so long before it meets resistance. One of the longest-running, hardest fought struggles against corporate malfeasance is the farmers' right ro repair fight against John Deere. Deere boobytraps its tractors so that after a farmer repairs a Deere tractor, they have to wait for days, and pay hundreds of dollars, for a Deere technician to come out to the farm and type an unlock code into the tractor's console:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

Despite multiple state right-to-repair initiatives and a pending rulemaking from the FTC, Deere is still fucking around. Now, they've found out. US District Court Judge Iain Johnson just handed Deere a scathing, 89-page memo rejecting the company's bid to kill a class action suit brought by its customers:

https://www.reuters.com/legal/litigation/deere-must-face-us-farmers-right-to-repair-lawsuits-judge-rules-2023-11-27/?ref=404media.co

The memo hearkens back to company founder John Deere, "an innovative farmer and blacksmith who—with his own hands—fundamentally changed the agricultural industry":

https://www.404media.co/a-massive-repair-lawsuit-against-john-deere-clears-a-major-hurdle/

Judge Johnson tells Deere's lawyers that the real John Deere "would be deeply disappointed in his namesake corporation," and calls out their lying. You love to see it.

This kind of thing is happening all over the world as policymakers, regulators and lawmakers take aim at corporate power. The Australian government just announced that it would force Apple to open up iOS to alternative browser engines:

https://open-web-advocacy.org/blog/new-digital-competition-laws-for-australia/

This is obscure and technical, but that's why it's so exciting: rather than mumbling broad platitudes about competition and user choice, the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission's regulation targets a critical leverage point where a small change will deliver huge benefits:

https://www.accc.gov.au/media-release/consumers-and-small-businesses-to-benefit-from-proposed-new-regulation-of-digital-platforms

While there are many browsers in Apple's App Store, they're all just reskinned versions of Safari, all running on the same core engine, Webkit. Webkit is ancient, undermaintained and feature-poor. Crucially, Webkit does not implement the parts of the HTML5 standard needed for WebApps, which would allow app developers a safe channel to offer apps that don't go through Apple's App Store monopoly chokepoint:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/13/kitbashed/#app-store-tax

Now, there's a big jump between announcing this kind of regulation and enacting it. As Mark Nottingham points out, Australia's had an "in principle" commitment to enact a privacy regulation for two successive governments, with no actual regulation in sight:

https://techpolicy.social/@mnot/111546662237364754

So we can't take these announcements as a sign to declare victory and stand down. The policymakers who announce these proposals deserve our accolades for the announcement and they require our constant vigilance until they make good on their promises.

That's the case in Ireland, where the Coimisiún na Meán has just published a fantastic regulatory proposal for recommendation systems, requiring recommenders to be turned off by default and that recommendations based on "political views, sexuality, religion, ethnicity or health" have to be switched off by default:

https://www.cnam.ie/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/Draft_Online_Safety_Code_Consultation_Document_Final.pdf

It's especially significant that this is coming out of Ireland, a corporate crime haven that has successfully lured the world's tech giants into flying its flag of convenience, with the guarantee of tax evasion and lax regulation:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

This rule won't enforce itself. It'll require constant vigilance and pressure. There's plenty of ways to do that on a part-time, voluntary basis, but if this kind of thing enflames you enough to make a career out of it, here's a tenure-track job for an infosec professor at Citizen Lab, fearless slayers of high-tech corporate ogres:

https://jobs.utoronto.ca/job/Toronto-Assistant-Professor-Information-Security-ON/576463017/

That's all for this week's linkdump. It's time for me to go hole up in my office and wrap presents. When I do, I'll be tuning into the latest Merry Mixmas MP3 of Christmas mashups from DJ Riko:

http://www.djriko.com/dls/DJ%20Riko%20-%20Merry%20Mixmas%202023.mp3

Riko's Christmas mashups have been part of my holidays for more than two decades now. He's been making them for 22 years! That's a lot of great holiday mashups:

https://www.djriko.com/mixmases.htm

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/09/gallimaufry/#marty-hench-rides-again

76 notes · View notes

loosingmoreletters · 1 year

Text

Mermay Day 1: Aquarium. Wangxian Ao3 | Part 1 | 2 | 3 |

Lan Wangji follows the secretary down the corridor, paying little attention to his inane rambles. He’d prefer to skip the unnecessary pleasantries, rubbing elbows and pretending to be genuinely interested in another person instead of the digits of their bank account.

“We were of course honored when he heard the Lan were interested in sponsoring this exhibit,” the man said.

Lan Wangji’s interest went far beyond sponsoring if he found what he sought, but he’d already agreed to financially support the faculty anyway.

“Where did you find him?” Lan Wangji asked instead as they walked past shark tanks much to small to host the animals. If this was how the aquarium treated their regular exhibits, he was certain to be displeased with what he was about to see.

“We didn’t find it at all, actually,” the man replied with a nervous laugh. “Fishermen caught it in Yiling, which should’ve been dead waters for that species, but it proved surprisingly resilient. One of our doctors got injured looking them over.”

“Them?” Lan Wangji echoed.

The man blinked in surprise. “You weren’t told? Then you’ll be in for a treat, if our guests decide to show.”

The next room was a little bigger than the previous ones and the tank, compared to the other ones at least, massive. The ground was covered in sand and some pitiful stones. Children’s toys floated at the surface Lan Wangji couldn’t tell whether those or the incredibly fake stone cave were the worst part. Was that the aquarium’s attempt at enrichment?

“As you can see, the tank could be much improved. We’re used to hosting saltwater fish and we had to quickly refurbish for a freshwater one. With the sponsorship money—“

Lan Wangji ignored the man’s words as he stepped closer to the glass. The tank seemed empty, void of any life at all.

“It doesn’t really come out anymore, avoiding humans. But I can call someone to pull it from the cave. We’re thinking of a new attraction once it’s less shy—.”

If Lan Wangji wasn’t already determined to put an end to this pitiful display, he’d commit to it now.

“There is no need,” he replied and thought back to the lessons of his youth.

Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, do you know that my hearing is much better than yours? I can hear you approach even all that way across the lake!

The darkness of the cave seemed to stretch forward, shadows reaching until from it emerged a body. Long and thin, counting nearly every rib beneath pale flesh. Even longer than the upper body was the tail, colored in deep blacks and red. Despite the cheap surroundings, Lan Wangji was face to face with a predator. This one, he had no reason to fear.

“Wei Ying,” he said. “I am here.”

I won’t leave again.

Wei Ying cocked his head before putting a hand to the glass. They used to do the same in the rivers, hands hovering above each other.

“Amazing!” the man exclaimed and Lan Wangji wishes did nothing more but for him to disappear. “Never before—“

Wei Ying apparently thought the same as his expression twisted to a snarl, sharp and wide. The man took a step back, nearly stumbling in his haste. Lan Wangji suppressed a smile before turning to Wei Ying again.

“I’ll get you out of here,” Lan Wangji promised. “Wherever you want, Yunmeng—“

Wei Ying shook his head, surprisingly human in his gesture. He put his right hand to his forehead, mimicking the ribbon that, outside of Gusu, was wrapped around his wrist.

“Gusu?”

Wei Ying clicked in subdued agreement. Lan Wangji didn’t understand. He’d made every preparation for every possibility and wish, but never Gusu. Wei Ying had never wanted to go, gone as far as nearly drown Lan Wangji when he’d suggested it the last time, years ago.

“Why?”

Wei Ying paused, threw another suspicious glance at the man behind Lan Wangji before swimming back to his cave, his tail brushing against the glass. He returned, moments later, with his back to Lan Wangji, angled away from the intruding stranger. He swam until his back was pressed to the glass, allowing only Lan Wangji to see the precious cargo pressed to his chest. The child was small, couldn’t be older than two, and his red coloring was lighter than Wei Ying’s.

Lan Wangji had anticipated much, but not this.

“Are you sure?”

He’s seen Wei Ying in victory and anger, happiness and devastation, but never in defeat. He imagined it looked a little like this.

They’d have to talk about this, properly, away from prying eyes but for now, this exchange would have to do. Were he a lesser man, he’d sigh. Instead, he wordlessly turned around.

“Mr. Lan,” said the man. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Your aquarium is incapable of hosting any mers,” Lan Wangji said bluntly. “I doubt you want this to be dragged to the public or the courts. I’ll pay whatever is necessary and you’ll transfer both mers into my custody.”

The man protested, talked about impossible conversations with his boss, but Lan Wangji knew this conversation had been done even before he’d set foot into the aquarium. They wouldn’t have invited him otherwise.

#mdzs #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan sizhui #mdzs fanfic #fanfic #mermay 2023 #mermay

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dark-elf-writes · 1 year

Note

“Naruto would also do so much for the red light district once he was in charge.”

Just absolutely love the thought of Granny Rin teaching Naruto how to use what little money he has and him taking it to heart as hokage. Him taking to heart all the love and care such a large part of Konoha (forgotten and ignored as it may be) gave him even when they had so little.

Him completely overhauling every financial system in place for the better. Correcting the money funneling for Root Danzo was probably doing, negotiating better trade deals with other villages, finding new trade routes, requiring careful documentation of how every dime is spent (suddenly undocumented spies are very rare), etc.

They don’t have to go with the cheapest “quality” goods anymore when Naruto can go straight to the source of the best and make negotiations himself. Shinobi get better gear, better pay, more benefits, better health care (therapy!!!), etc.

And when all that’s done with, turns out there’s actually hell of a lot of money left over without a Danzo shaped leach screwing with things. The academy gets more specialized teachers and more funding, the orphanage becomes habitable, and workers go through intensive screening before they’re allowed around the kids.

The red light district gets better housing options, the removal of dilapidated buildings that are more hazard than not, medical options, education options for the kids that don’t want to become shinobi, and the workers get full legal protections.

———

Maybe once it becomes clear that the changes to the academy lead to better/ more well rounded graduates, each one being better than or equal to past rookies of the year, they raise the graduation age. Give them time to learn more than the basics and put less stress on the Jonin taken away from their duties to train them in basically everything. Assign teams before they graduate to give them time to work with each other outside life or death situations and complete d ranks in the village for a year.

Fatality reports come in. Less genin dead than ever. They raise the graduation age again, diversify the lessons, call in experienced chunin to work with the older students, and incorporate specialization training with special Jonin. Again they’re better trained, more well rounded, more experienced. Every graduate comes out at least on mid chunin level. The majority makes special Jonin, Jonin, or ANBU within a few years.

The other villages take notice as they always do. They mimic Konoha’s success until there really are no kids on the battlefield. It’s a dream realized and finally made true. Even if it does take several hokage’s to get to Naruto.

I mean when you think about it ROOT would have been a massive suck on resources. Like even just keeping his little homegrown terrorist organization fed alone would have taken some serious cash much less training and outfitting each and every one of them. And for all the good Kakashi could do as Hokage, he has never had to think about money the way Naruto has.

How to make it stretch. How to barter for survival. How to ensure every last cent is accounted for because that could mean the difference between a meal and going hungry.

The finance department was shocked and a little horrified to see the Hokage himself, hat and formal robes abandoned for a messy bun and silken kimono, chewing on a senbon as he pours over every expense report in the last few decades and reworks the budget by hand.

It’s the most strict budget they have ever had.

It’s the best budget they’ve ever had.

He scribbles down a message on the back of a scrap paper they’re pretty sure is a receipt for his lunch and sends it off with a bird before anyone can stop him and gets a scrap of a puppet schematic with his answer written back. soon enough a trade contract is hammered out on scraps of paper and their relationship with sand has never been better.

He demands every teacher gets more stringent background checks and training for how to recognize abuse. In turn they see an upswing of kids who were thought To be sure washouts starting to thrive as they were taken out of bad environments. There is even a stretch where Naruto himself taught at the academy until more teachers could be found and trained. The kids why had him as a teacher end up as one of the best Shinobi Konoha has ever seen (if a bit unhinged in the same way he is)

He directs the budget into he poorest places in the village, starting with his home (because the red light district would always be his home) giving them the better world he promised them with a fanged smile.

Naruto fixing Konoha by learning the lessons the ‘lowest’ of the village taught him and through his skill of making alliances fixing the world and leading them all into a golden age.

#the elf talks #naruto #red lights and fox fire au

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 11 months

Text

THE RED MILL

request- so hear me out...........Moulin Rouge but Obi-Wan.

Done my best with this one. I hope.you all like it. Comments welcome.

Word count - 11,741 its a long one. One part only full story

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a broken man. He sits alone against the wall of a boarding house, furniture and clothing strewn around him. A bottle of half drunk Tatooine wine in his hand. Looking across the room he stands slowly, walking, though hardly lifting his feet to the data pad. He sits at the table and lifts it.

As he slowly types the words, and tries to fight back the inevitable tears.

THE GREATEST THING

YOU’LL EVER LEARN

IS JUST TO LOVE

AND BE LOVED

IN RETURN

The Red Mill.

A nightclub, a dance hall, and a bordello. Ruled over by Zidler the Hutt, a kingdom of nighttime pleasures. Where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of all these was the woman I loved.

Y/n.

A courtesan, she sold her love to men.

They called her the sparkling diamond and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge.

The woman I loved is…

The Jedi looks out his window at the Red Mill across the street, the lights that once shone brightly in reds, blues and yellows stood dull and broken.

…dead.

A tear falls from his eye, dropping onto the datapad.

I knew nothing of Zidler the Hutt, Red Mill or y/n. The galaxy had been swept up in the destruction of the Jedi and the rise of the Emperor. I had travelled to Tatooine to hide from it all. After the loss of my Padawan Anakin Skywalker I wanted to disappear. On a hill near Moss Eisley was a small town called Montmartre. There I found cheap lodgings in a building built of the same sand and mud as all the other buildings. Montmartre was not as I had thought it, not a place of debauchery and sin but a town of truth, beauty, freedom and love. The only problem was, I knew nothing of love. There was once a woman, Satine but she is gone now.

Luckily, right at that moment, an unconscious Twileak fell through my roof. He was quickly joined by a dwarf dressed in a strange costume.

"How do you do? My name is Henri-Marie-Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa." The unhooded Jawa spoke.

"What?" Obi-Wan stumbles back from the pair.

Henri attempts to pull the Twileak from the rope holding him between the two rooms.

"I’m terribly sorry about all this. We were just upstairs rehearsing a play."

"What?" Obi-Wan isn't sure if he should be listening to any of this.

"A play! Something very modern called Spectacular Spectacular and it’s set in Naboo." Henri explained, "Unfortunately, the unconscious Twileak suffered from a sickness called Narcolepsy." He sat down at the small table, while Obi-Wan examines the Twileak now lying on his bed.

"Perfectly fine one moment, then suddenly unconscious the next." Henri laughs. The faces of THE DOCTOR, AUDREY, and SATIE appear through the hole from which the Argentinean came. Henri and Obi-Wan look up at them.

"How is he?" The bald man asked.

"How wonderful, now the Narcoleptic Twileak is unconscious, and therefore the scenario will not be finished in time to present to the financier tomorrow." Audrey grumbled, her sharply cut dark hair dangling down.

"Right, Henri, I still have to finish the music." Satie nervously shuffled.

"We’ll just find someone to read the part." Henri grinned, turning his head toward Obi-Wan.

Before I knew it, I was upstairs standing in for the unconscious Twileak. There was so much noise, the frankly atrocious lyrics that had been written for nonsensical music. My brain was still too tired to function and so I sat down on their makeshift set and waited for someone to do something. That was when I recalled the poetry of Master Ruhan. I read it all in the archives and so to halt their squabbling I sang out.

"The hills are alive with the sound of music!"

That was it! They wanted me. Audrey was so enthusiastic and left.

The Twileak woke and announced it was time to drink and so I had my first taste of Absentlie, a green drink that forced out your worries and let's in the green fairy.

As they drank, the companions dragged Obi-Wan across the street to the Red Mill, where they watched the women dancing. Like confetti falling from a great height they moved around the dance floor in brightly coloured dresses. Music, played by a band in the small stage; blared through speakers all around the room.

Zidler threw up his arms and called out to the room. Everyone fell quiet as the lights dimmed and silver paper floated down from the ceiling. Upon a wooden swing you descend, a glittering outfit, your voice echoes through the hall. Obi-Wan looks around, every set of eyes in the building were zeroed in on you, all men and women and droids listened intently to your words.

"I have arranged a private reading with Y/n after her number." It would be his job to convince you that his writing would put the Red Mill amongst the greatest theatres in the galaxy.

Your body moves as if it is controlled by the music and the words you sing. Henri speaks to Obi-Wan, though he does not hear what is said. You slipped behind a circle of dancers.

When you reappeared you had the dancing men spin you on a chair across the room until they deposited you in front of Obi-Wan.

"I believe you were expecting me." You breathe out so only the Jedi could hear you. He gulps, but does not move.

"I'm afraid it's ladies choice!" You call out to the crowd. The group Obi-Wan had entered with, push him toward you and you lead him down to the dance floor. All around the dancers and the patrons danced in what felt to Obi-Wan to be a practised dance. You help him to follow the movements. There is something about the way your skin feels running over his own that sends shivers of warmth through the Jedi. A sensation he had not felt for some time.

Unknown to Obi-Wan, another man watched your every move. Duke Valru, a Senator in the new Empire, waited for his moment. Promise from the Hutts that he would have your full attention that evening. He watched as you danced, imagining your hands running over his body. A twinge of jealousy, already turning his gut. You were his, he would pay for you, your attention would be all his.

As you raise once more on the swing you sing out. The words get caught in your throat and your chest tightens. Gasping for breath you feel your mind go blank and you fall unconscious from the swing. Before you hit the ground a large man catches you in his arms and swiftly carries you out of the dancehall. Obi-Wan watches with a lump in his throat. The pull of his training knowing he could have reached you first, but he could not risk being seen.

Zidler doesn't allow it to fester, quickly making it part of the show and switching the dance to distract the patrons.

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

Dressed in a long red dress you looked into a mirror, silently telling yourself that this was for your career. If you could convince the Duke to invest in Henri's new play you could showcase your talents. Perhaps even catch the eye of directors from around the galaxy and finally leave the Red Mill. Zidler had bought you from your father when you were a child. You were trained everyday in the art of deceiving men into thinking you loved them, bending them to your will. You were a master at it, the best amongst the workers at the Red Mill. However, you had dreams, dreams of leaving this place and flying far away one day.

Zidler had given you the best room in the building, an old decommissioned AT-AT that had been decorated with heavy red curtains, blankets, plush curtains and carpets. The cockpit had been removed with a bed in its place, a staircase leading up to a pagoda on the top had little, yellow lights adorning the bannisters.

Standing outside the door you take a moment to look into a mirror. Your mind changing. No this outfit was not good enough, it would not entice the Duke. Luckily you had placed a small wardrobe of clothes in the corridor. Stripping down to your ornate corset and underwear you slip a lace robe over your arms and let down your hair.

Inside the man you believe to be the Duke stands, his back to you, looking out of the cut out section that looks over the courtyard.

"This is a wonderful place for a poetry reading. Don’t you think? Hm?

Poetic…enough…for you?" You ask in the most sultry voice you can muster. Obi-Wan turns, his blue eyes meeting yours and for a moment you both forget why had come to the room.

"Yes." He finds his voice first. You move across the room to the table and start to pull out a bottle of alcohol.

"A little supper?" You suggest.

Obi-Wan shifts awkwardly "I’d rather just, um…get it over and done with."

Those words stung you, no one had ever been in such a bored rush.

"Oh…" you fake a smile, "Very well. Then why don’t you…come down here." You say laying back on the bed, exposing your leg, "And let’s get it over and done with."

Obi-Wan looks around the room, trying to look at anything but you.

"I…prefer to do it standing." He says still talking about the poetry Henri had told.him to perform. Surprised you move to stand as well, but he puts his hands out toward you.

"You don’t have to stand, I mean. It’s sometimes that…It’s quite long and I’d like you to be comfortable. It’s quite modern, what I do, and it may feel a little strange at first, but I think, if you’re open, then, then you might enjoy it." He fumbles out the words as he paces around the room. You raise your eyebrows whilst he talks, convinced you would be the one learning something new.

"I’m sure I will." You reply.

"Excuse me." Obi-Wan turns around, "The… The sky…is…The sky…the blue...birds…Come on…come on…" Obi-Wan tried to remember the words to Master Ruhan's poems. Gentle words about the beauty of the galaxy and the love between men and women that just would not stay in his mind. Each time he looked back at you, he lost all focus. Your body lying there before him, making his mouth run dry.

:Why am I so shaky?' He thinks to himself. Of course he knew what this woman was, he was a Jedi but he was not so innocent to not understand your allure.

You slide to the edge of the bed, "Is everything all right?"

"Uh…I-I…I’m a little nervous. It’s just, sometimes, it takes a while for…um you know, inspiration to come…" he lies to you through a drying throat.

You stand and walk over to him.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes… Let mummy help, hm?" You say grabbing his crotch. Obi-Wan gasps at the touch.

"Does that inspire you?" You whisper and push him back onto the bed, "Let’s make love."

"Make love!?" Obi-Wan asks in confusion.

You straddle his hips, running your hands over his chest and pushing his clothing back.

"You want to, don’t you?"

"Well, I…I came to—" he tries to hold on to your arms and stop you.

Your fingers cover his mouth as you begin unbuttoning his shirt.

"No, tell the truth. You feel the poetry!" You grind down on him.

"What?" Obi-Wan pushes the word out, trying to keep his mind focused. Though it becomes increasingly difficult. You make light work of unbuttoning his breaches. Obi-Wan's mind slips and allows himself to feel everything that is happening. Sure he had a mandate to protect the boy, but that could wait…. couldn't it? The Jedi order is gone, he could allow himself this couldn't he?

"Oh, yes, I need your poetry now!" You cry out, still above him.

"All right!!" Obi-Wan pushes you back as gently as he can and runs to the other end of the room. He forces himself to remember Ruhan's poem.

"It’s a little bit funny this...feeling inside

I’m not one of those…who can…who can easily hide." He looks to you, eyes full.of a fear you couldn't understand.

"Is this…is this okay? Is this what you want?" He asks.

"Ohhh, poetry. Yes, yes, yes, this is what I want, naughty words!" You say pushing yourself down on the bed.

"I-I don’t…" Obi-Wan continues as you roll around amongst the sheets. "I don’t have much money but…but boy if I did I’d buy a big house where we, where we both could live. So…if I were a sculptor"

You roll onto the floor and crawl a bit closer to him, listening to every word.

"But, then again, no. Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show. I…I know it’s not much…But it’s the best I can do." He isn't sure where this comes from, a memory of a recording he had once found, the poems of Ruhan sung into the sweetest melodies in the Opera houses of the Old Republic. He let the music burst through him and sang.

"MY GIFT IS MY SONG"

You stop and gaze at him, stunned. You are frozen in place unable to do anything but listen to his sweet voice.

"AND THIS ONE’S FOR YOU

AND YOU CAN TELL EVERYBODY

THAT THIS IS YOUR SONG

IT MAY BE QUITE SIMPLE, BUT

NOW THAT IT’S DONE

HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

THAT I PUT DOWN IN WORDS

HOW WONDERFUL LIFE IS

NOW YOU’RE IN THE WORLD"

He turns back to the cut out and you find yourself falling to a place you couldn't climb out of. A place you were not allowed to go.

"I SAT ON THE ROOF

AND I KICKED OFF THE MOSS"

You stand and take a hesitant step closer to him.

"WELL, SOME OF THESE VERSES, WELL THEY

THEY GOT ME QUITE CROSSED"

He turns to you as you step up to each other.

"BUT THE SUN’S BEEN KIND

WHILE I WROTE THIS SONG

IT’S FOR PEOPLE LIKE YOU, THAT

KEEP IT TURNED ON

SO EXCUSE ME FORGETTING

BUT THESE THINGS I DO

YOU SEE, I’VE FORGOTTEN

IF THEY’RE GREEN OR THEY’RE BLUE

ANYWAY, THE THING IS

WHAT I REALLY MEAN"

He takes your hand in his.

"YOURS ARE THE SWEETEST EYES

I’VE EVER SEEN"

You dance together as if the world outside does not exist. All there is is you, him and the love that was building between you.

"AND YOU CAN TELL EVERYBODY

THIS IS YOUR SONG

IT MAY BE QUITE SIMPLE BUT

NOW THAT IT’S DONE

I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND

THAT I PUT DOWN IN WORDS

HOW WONDERFUL LIFE IS

NOW YOU’RE IN THE WORLD"

He spins you both round, lowering you in his arms. Obi-Wan would never understand how or why he had so easily given in to you, into the feeling that warmed his chest, but he did, wholey giving in to you and pressed his lips.to yours.

"Oh…I can’t believe it. I’m in love. I’m in love with a young, handsome, talented Duke.

"Duke?" He asks,

You grin against his lips and speak again, "Mm, not that the title’s important, of course."

"I’m not a Duke, I'm a je-, a writer."

"A writer?" You push at his chest, forcing him to stand up. "No." You hold your hand to your head.

"Henri said-"

"Henri? Oh no. No, you're not another of oh-so-talented, charmingly bohemian, tragically impoverished prodigies?" You can feel your world beginning to crumble.

"Well, you might say that." Obi-Wan shrugs.

You're about to ask about the Duke when you hear Zidler outside your door. His dull tone spitting out Huttese unmistakable.

"The Duke!" You pant, "hide!" Obi-Wan dashes behind a pillar, pulling a curtain around himself just as the door opens. Zidler slithers into the room, the Duke beside him.

"My Dear! Are you decent for the Duke? Where were you?" He asks in the common tongue.

"I, uh…I…was…waiting!" You say, through heavy breaths.

"My dearest Duke, allow me to introduce Mademoiselle y/n." it was not often your employer acted so slimy. Cosying up to his patrons.

Mustering all the training you had received you locked your eyes with the Duke.

"My Lord, how wonderful of you to take time out of your busy schedule to visit." You step up to him, running your hand up his arm.

"The pleasure, I fear, will be entirely mine, my dear." The Duke replies, eyes on your hand.

Obi-Wan peeks out from the curtain and catches your eyes.

"I’ll leave you two squirrels to get better acquainted" Zidler gives you a pointed glare before leaving the AT-AT.

The Duke kisses your hand. "After tonight’s petty exertions on the stage, you must surely be in need of refreshment, my dear."

He pours you both a drink from the table, narrowly missing Obi-Wan slipping back behind the curtain. A lump begins to form in your throat as you watch them. Searching your mind you recall the reason for Duke's visit, to invest.

"It’s…it’s a little bit funny." You whisper, catching the Duke's full attention he turns completely round to you. Over his shoulder you see Obi-Wan look out at you.

"This feeling inside." Working out what you're doing he begins to mouth the words to you.

"I’m not one of those who can easily hide!" You repeat. "I don’t have much money but if I did Oh, I’d buy a big house where we both could live I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind" you wrap your hands around the Duke's shoulders, dipping your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the world." Your eyes flicker over his shoulder to meet Obi-Wan's as you speak the last few words.

The Duke takes in a staggered breath.

"That’s very beautiful." He whispers.

"It’s from Spectacular Spectacular. Suddenly, with you here, I finally understood the true meaning of those words. How wonderful life is now you’re in the world." You are using everything in your arsenal to keep his attention on you as Obi-Wan creeps to the door.

"What meaning is that, my dear?" Your face is close enough that he could kiss you if only your arms were not so stiff.

Obi-Wan sees the Duke's body guard standing outside the door and quickly slams the door shut. It’s loud, too loud and the Duke begins to turn back. You throw yourself on the bed and pretend to sob.

"Duke! Don’t you toy with my emotions! You…you must know the effect you have on women?" You grab the Duke and pull him down on top of you. "Let’s make love! You want to make love, don’t you!?"

The kiss you give him barely touches his lips as you wave to Obi-Wan to go the other way.

He runs there, but stops before he can hide

The Duke begins to unbutton his white shirt above you, unaware of the other man in the room. Obi-Wan stops in his tracks, unsure of what it is he is feeling. A sadness, a pull, an anger. You see him and feel the same way.

"Yes, you’re right, we should wait until opening night." You push the Duke off and Obi-Wan slips into the stairs outside.

"Wait? What?" The Duke stumbles back from the bed. You blink at him, pressing a hand to his chest.

"There’s a power in you that scares me. If I give myself to you now, I could not focus on the play. We should wait until opening night."

You hoped it was enough. The Duke narrowed his eyes on you, a smile slowly forming on his mouth.

"Perhaps you are right. We should have no distractions."

Thankful you pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

"I shall dream of you." You whisper into his ear before he leaves.

Obi-Wan steps out from his hiding place and you storm toward him, a dizziness forming in your mind.

"Do you have any idea, what would have happened if you were found-" you couldn't finish your sentence as the world.goes black and you fall into Obi-Wan's arms.

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

"Y/n?" Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to do, your body was limp.in his arms. He could feel your life force still beating inside you. Looking around himself he saw the bed close to him. Hiking you higher he drags you onto the bed, tripping on one of the blankets and falling on top of you. A himph leaves his throat as he holds his weight off of you. It doesn't occur to him that his body is just too close to yours. Little did he know this whole time He ri, Satie and the others had been watching from top of the AT-AT. Across the courtyard Zidler the Hutt looked through his telescope. Behind him the door reopens and the Duke steps in.

"I forgot my ha- Foul play?" The Duke narrows his eyes on Obi-Wan. The Jedi leaps backward off the bed.

"She…I…" he gestures between himself and you. Your eyes flicker open and you draw in a deep breath quickly assessing the room.

"Oh, Duke! I'm glad you could make it back. Yes, let me introduce you. The writer." You push yourself up off the bed, stumbling slightly in your heels.

"The writer?" The Duke sceptically asks.

"Yes. Oh yes, we were, we were rehearsing." You push Obi-Wan aside as you step closer to the Duke.

"You expect me to believe that, scantily clad, in the arms of another man, in the middle of the night, inside an Elephant, you were rehearsing?" He spat out the words, gripping your wrist. At that exact moment Henri burst into the room.

"How’s the rehearsal going!? Shall we take it from the top, then, eh y/n?" He is followed by the others. Satie Heads straight to the piano.

"I hope the piano’s in tune" he called out.

"Sorry that we are late." The Twileak fluttered his arms around.

"Can I offer you a drink?" The hairiest of the group holds a bottle out to the Duke as he sneered at the men. With a hand on his chest you guide the Duke's attention back to you. A sweet smile on your lips.

"When I spoke those words to you before, you, you filled me with such inspiration. Yes, I realised how much work we had to do before tomorrow. So I called everyone together for an emergency rehearsal."

The Duke opens his mouth to speak.

"My dear Duke, I’m most terribly sorry!" Zidler wiggled.his large body into the room.

"Zidler! You made it! It’s all right, the Duke knows all about the emergency rehearsal." You give him a pointed look that your employer understands immediately.

"Yes, well, I’m sure Audrey will be only too delighted—"

" The cat’s out of the bag." You slid into the Duke's side pulling him closer to you. "Yes, the Duke’s already a big fan of our new writer’s work. That’s why he’s so keen to invest." You clench your teeth as you look into his eyes.

"Invest?" He speaks to you in Huttese the looks to the Duke "Invest! Oh, yes, well, invest! You can hardly blame me for trying to hide our-"

"Ben." Obi-Wan lied.

"…Ben away!" Zidler waved his hands once again. The Duke curls his top lip back.

"I’m way ahead of you, Zidler." He pushes you away slightly taking a step toward the Hutt.

"My dear Duke…why don’t you and I go to my office to produce the paperwork?" Zidler tried to distract him. You turn nervously back to the other men, your eyes meeting Obi-Wan's. Something about him calms you; like he was reaching out through the space between you. There were stories of the Jedi who could do that, though you had never met one.

"What’s the story?" The Duke's voice catches your attention, "if I’m to invest, I’ll need to know the story."

Zidler turns his attention to Henri, silently begging him to answer.

"Well, well, the stories, the stories about, Well, it’s, it’s about, um" the Jawa looks to Obi-Wan

"It’s about love" he says the words as if it was obvious.

"Love?" The idea seemed disgusting to the Duke.

Obi-Wan takes a breath, "It’s about love overcoming all obstacles. It's set on Naboo and there’s a Courtesan…the most beautiful courtesan in all the world but her kingdom’s invaded by an evil Senator. Now, in order to save her kingdom, She has to seduce the Evil Senator but, on the night of the seduction, she mistakes a Penniless P--…Penn…Penniless…Penniless Kloo Horn

Player for the Evil Senator, and she falls in love with him!" Obi-Wan recalled the story from a fairytale of his childhood. He turned to you, and as if to clarify he says, "He wasn’t trying to trick her or anything but he was dressed as a richer man because he’s appearing in a play."

Everyone is quiet listening to him tell the story.

"Well, the Penniless Kloo Player and the Courtesan, they have to hide their love from the Senator."

Satie interrupts. "The Penniless Kloo Player’s Kloo Horn is magical! It can only speak the truth!" They all cheer at the idea.

"Yes, and he gives the game away!" The Duke chuckles, feeling himself being swept up in the joy of his companions. They all cheer along with him.

Zidler turns the Duke toward him, "The show will be a magnificent, opulent, tremendous, stupendous, gargantuan bedazzlement! A sensual ravishment! It will be Spectacular Spectacular No words in the vernacular Can describe this great event, You’ll be dumb with wonderment. Returns are fixed at ten percent

You must agree that’s excellent." He has turned the Duke toward the doors but cannot keep him. Spinning away from the Hurt the Duke turns back to Obi-Wan.

"What happens in the end?"

"The lovers are pulled apart by an evil plan." Obi-Wan gulps out. You grab the Duke's arm once more pulling him toward you.

"But in the end she hears his call and their love is just too strong." She almost whispers the words to him.

"Will someone die?" The Duke asks almost amused at the thought. You glance back at the others.

"We shall see, your input is of course always welcomed."

"Generally I like it." The Duke laughed following zidler from the room as the others celebrated.

Zidler had an investor, and the Bohemians had a show. While the celebration party raged upstairs, I tried to write. But all I could think about was her.

Was she thinking about me?

You and Obi-Wan can just see each other across the Red Mill, through your respective windows. Obi-Wan watches as you, now redressed in the red gown, walk up the metal steps to the pagoda on top of the AT-AT.

The last of his resolve dissipates into the music bove him and Obi-Wan leaves his room. He climbs up the walker using the decorative ropes until he is standing behind you. His footsteps alert you and you jump.

"Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean…I saw your light on, and I…I climbed up the-"

"What?" You eye him with confused thoughts.

"I couldn’t sleep, and I want-I wanted to thank you for helping me get the job." He fumbles out the words. You smile, though it doesn't reach your eyes.

"Of course. Yes, Henri was right. You’re…you’re very talented." His eyes drop, an emotion you didn't quite catch. "It’s going to be a wonderful show." There is a beat of silence between you.

"Anyway, I’d better go, because we…uh, we both have a big day tomorrow." You sigh and turn away.

"Wait! No, please, wait." Obi-Wan reaches out for you but doesn't touch you. You turn your head just enough to see him.

"Before, when we were…when we were…when you thought I was the Duke, you said that you loved me. An-and I wondered if…if—"

"If it was just…an act?" You say now turning all the way round to face him.

"Yes!" His eyes were bright like a child.

"Of course." You know there is a lie in there.

His smile falls. "Oh, it just felt…real."

You approach him, desperate to ease his mind. "Ben, I’m a courtesan. I’m paid to make men believe what they want to believe."

"Yes…Silly of me to think that you could…fall in love with someone like me." His words are simple yet filled with too many emotions.

"I can’t fall in love with anyone." You sigh.

A strange smile graces his face, "Can’t fall in love? I understand that."

Curious, you take one more step toward him.

"Where are you from?" You ask and Obi-Wan knows you are more intuitive than you first seemed.

"I am from an order, they're all gone now. We weren't allowed to…" his eyes threatened tears and you felt the same pull to him you felt earlier. It occurred to him then standing in front of you that he had been a fool. The opportunity for love had been handed to him on Mandalore yet he chose to turn away from it. His heart had been broken not one week ago by Anakin turning to the darkside. Proof that he had grown too attached to the man. Obi-Wan knew he had the capacity to love, perhaps this time he would let himself. Searching back through his mind he thought of Master Ruhan and the poems he had written.

"Love is a many-splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love." It was like he finally understood the words.

"Please, don’t start that again." You shake your head.

" all you need is love." He steps toward you.

"Love is just a game." You whisper, knowing you were already under his spell, "the only way to love me is to pay." You hope the words will break you out of it.

Obi-Wan stops, his hand floating in the space between you, his eyes looking into your own.

"Y/n, I have been starved and I think you have as well. Just one night and then I promise I'll leave you alone."

Your heart breaks a little. You know you should be standing your ground. Say no to him, turn away but you can't. Your body is drawn to him. Grabbing his hand you pull Obi-Wan down the stairs back into the AT-AT. The electricity that sparks through your skin is enough to have you pull him into you and press your lips to his. That was it, the moment it all broke for both of you. Two people, raised to never love, connect by your hearts.

"You're going to be bad for business, I can tell." You giggle between kisses.

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

How wonderful life was, now Satine was in the world. But, in the Duke, Zidler had gotten much more than he had bargained for.

Duke Valru sits across from Zidler in his office. The large green slug-like Alien fiddles with contracts on his desk.

"Conversion of the Moulin Rouge into a theatre will cost a fantastic sum of money, Zidler." Valru spoke with narrowed eyes, "So, in return, I would require a contract that, um, binds y/n to me, exclusively. Naturally, I shall require some security. I shall require the deeds to the Red Mill."

Zidler baulks at the idea

"My dear Duke I-"

"Please! Don’t think that I’m naïve, Zidler. I shall hold the deeds to the Red Mill and if there are any shenanigans my man-servant, Warner," A Besker clad man stepped into the room, folding his hands in front of him, "will deal with it in the only language that you underworld show-folk understand. Y/n will be mine. It’s not that I’m a jealous man. I just don’t like other people touching my things!" The last few words came out as a yell, Valru calmed himself with several shallow breaths.

"I understand completely, Duke." Zidler gulps.

"Good. Now that we have an understanding, it would appear that, uh…you have the means to transform your beloved Red Mill into a theatre." His smile makes even the Hutt squirm. One thing about this new virgining Empire gave them was a freedom for the slime of the galaxy to rise into power.

"I shall woo y/n over supper, tonight." Valru growled before marching out of the office. Zidler watches, an uneasy feeling wiggling inside him.

"The show must go on." He says to the blue Twi'lek woman beside him.

Yes, the show would go on. But Satine would not attend the supper that night, or the following night.

You, Obi-Wan, and Henri are all in Obi-Wan's room. You are sitting in your robe on the bed, your eyes watching Obi-Wan's every move. Henri is preparing food, and Obi-Wan is explaining the stuff he’s written.

"Fantastic!" Henri exclaims at the delightful scene. Obi-Wan continues, throwing his arms around in animated joy.

"Mad with jealousy, the Evil Maharajah forces the Courtesan to make the Penniless Sitar Player believe she doesn’t love him!"

"That’s…oh, yes!" Henri laughs.

“Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love!” says the Penniless Sitar Player, throwing money at her feet, and leaving the kingdom forever!" Obi-Wan jumps onto the bed, you reach up and pull him down to you.

"Oh, but a life without love! That’s terrible!" You smile. He nuzzles into your shoulder.

"Yes…but, the Kloo Player’s…

"Wait!" Henri runs to the bedside.

"-Magical Kloo-"

"That’s my part, Ben! That’s my part! That’s my part Ben." Henri laughs, "Don’t you dare! The Magical Kloo who can only speak the truth says he says-"

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

Days past them all by, y/n would insist on my attendance to all her meetings with the Duke.

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

Try as the Duke may, it was almost too easy for the young writer and the lead actress to invent perfectly legitimate reasons to avoid him.

Love grew where I had thought it never could, until darkness fell over the Red Mill.

The rehearsal day was over, you stole away behind a curtain, Obi-Wan pushed against the wall as you kissed him.

"You'll come tonight?" He asks and you nod, "what time?"

"Eight o'clock." You giggle.

Zidler's voice speaking in Huttese echoed across the dancehall.

"Nice work, family! Bright and early tomorrow morning we begin on Act II: The Lovers Are Discovered!"

"Zidler!" The Duke marches over to him.

The Hutt turns, his eyes glancing over to where you stood, your hands around Obi-Wan.

"My dear Duke! Everything is arranged for that special supper in the Temple Tower tonight."

"You might as well eat it yourself, Zidler. " he spat, "Her affections are waning."

"Impossible!" Zidler nervously chuckles.

"I understand how important her work is to her, but she’s always at it with that damn writer! If I don’t see her tonight, I’m very well leaving!"

"No!! My dear Duke…I’ll insist y/n take the night off." He turns him away.

"All right…all right. Eight o’clock, then." He leaves satisfied.

Zidler slides himself around grumbling under his breath as he moves to you. Obi-Wan had already darted away to another room before he approached you. Zidler grabbed your arms, lifting you onto your tiptoes and hissed in Huttese.

"Are you mad? The Duke holds the deeds to the Moulin Rouge! He’s spending a fortune on you. He’s given you a beautiful new dressing room, he wants to make you a star. And you’re dallying with the writer!"

"Oh, no, don’t be ridicul-"

"I saw you together" he cuts you off.

"It’s nothing. It’s just an infatuation, it’s…it’s nothing." You lie.

Zidler pushes you against the wall using his large body to trap you there, his hot breath fanned out over your face.

"The infatuation will end. Go to the boy. Tell him it’s over. The Duke is expecting you in the Tower at Eight."

Your heart sinks as he slithers away. Marie the Blue Twi'lek, and the oldest woman in the Red Mill, helps you to dress. As she pulls the strings of the corset you feel your chest tighten, your throat running dry. A fit of coughing takes over your body, sweat dripping from your face. Marie holds you as you try to walk.

How could I know, in those last fatal days, that a force darker than jealousy and stronger than love had begun to take hold of Satine?

Chocolat the resident Wookie watches in fear as you cough and eventually pass out.

Obi-wan waits expectantly for you in his room, standing by the window. He had no idea what was happening to you, but his mind began to wander. Obi-Wan dejectedly walks back into his table. He slumps down and looks at the datapad he had been writing the play on. The words all melted into one so he tosses it aside.

'Obi-Wan what are you doing?' He scolds himself. Why had he allowed this? Allowed himself.to fall so quickly into a world he had always kept away from. So many years denying the part of himself that this woman had freed within moments of meeting her. Was it the grief of losing the world he had known? The memories that plagued his dreams of destroying the boy he had promised to care for? The fear of becoming just like him? Or did he want to feel something, anything that was not death and destruction? The once great General Kenobi, now just Ben, a penniless, broken man with nothing but his love for a woman. A woman who did not come at eight, nine, ten or eleven. No.

All night he waited, and now, for the first time, he felt the cold stab of jealousy

You did not arrive at his door until six in the morning, before the suns had risen above the deserts. Your face was sullen, dark circles under your eyes, clad only in your underclothes and a robe, the usual corset forgotten in your bedroom.

Obi-Wan stops writing and looks up at you from the table, pained eyes blinking. You cough softly, the back of your hand pressing to your lips.

"Where were you last night?" He asks, trying to ignore the break in his voice.

"I told you, I was sick." You breathe out.

Obi-Wan gets up and sits beside you on the bed.

"You don’t have to lie to me." He could feel the conflict inside you. Frustrated, you turn away from him, holding back your emotions.

"We have to end it." You whisper, "Everyone knows. Zidler knows. Sooner or later, the Duke will find out, too."

Obi-Wan turns his back on you not believing your words; heartbreak forming in his chest.

"On opening night, I have to sleep with the Duke." You stand and walk to the window, "And the jealousy will drive you mad."

Knowing he should be better than this he stands and heads quickly to you.

"Ben-" you hold him back, tears dropping from both your eyes. Ben cups your face with his hand. He has no experience in this, nothing to tell him what to do but instinct and poems by a dead man.

"Then, we’ll write a song and we’ll put it in the show and no matter how bad things get, or whatever happens, whenever you hear it, or when you sing it, or whistle it, or hum it"

Kisses your forehead, "then you’ll know, it’ll mean…it’ll mean that we love one another! I won’t get jealous." He knows his words are like, of course he'll get jealous, he already is.

Attachment, the one thing he had never been allowed, the thing that had taken away his brother. This was a bad idea.

"Things don’t work that way, Ben. We have to end it." You sigh and walk away.

That afternoon in rehearsals Obi-Wan sits beside Satie by the piano.

"Now, this new scene is the scene where the Sitar Player writes a secret song for the Courtesan, so that whatever is happening, however bad things are…they remember their love." His eyes catch yours and you smile at him.

"And, um…we could take it from your line, y/n. So, let’s take it. Let’s take it, if we may-" you note the way his voice cracks and he turns his eyes away from you. The soft piano music begins and you look at the data pad with your script.

The song is perfect in every way; each word pours his love into your heart. A warmth filling you that try to send back. Your eyes flick between your Twi'lek costar and Obi-Wan.

On of the dancers slinks across the room, her body clad in half costume half underwear. She leans down to the Duke, sitting alone on a wooden chair.

"This ending’s silly. Why would the Courtesan go for the Penniless Writer? Oops! I mean Kloo Player."

She gives him a look like he’s an idiot for not seeing it yet, then bounces her eyes between you and Obi-Wan. The Duke seems to make the connection, following her eyeline. Nini goes back to the other Dancers and they share a laugh. Valru takes in a long pointed breath and stands, his neck twisting as he stretches it.

"I don’t like this ending."

Everyone droops in confusion turning to him.

"Don’t like the ending, my dear Duke?" Zidler asks sliding in front of the stage.

"Why would the Courtesan choose a Penniless Kloo Player over the Senator, who is offering a lifetime of security? That’s real love. Once the Kloo Player has satisfied his lust, he will leave the Courtesan with nothing. I suggest that, in the end, the Courtesan choose the Senator." He knew every word would cause a reaction in all of them and he hoped for it. Henri charged forward, his small stature made up for by his anger.

"But…but, but sorry! Sorry, but that ending does not uphold the bohemian ideals of truth, beauty, freedom and lov-"

"I don’t care about your ridiculous dogma!" The Duke shouts, "there is a new Empire now why shouldn’t the Courtesan choose the Senator!?"

Obi-Wan's anger tumbles over the threshold; he stands and shouts.

"Because she doesn’t love you!"

There is a Lllong, horrified pause, as everyone stares at Obi-Wan, who slowly realises what he’s just done.

"Him…him, she doesn’t love…she doesn’t love him." He stumbles backward.

Valru looks back at you, his jaw clenching, "Now I see. Zidler, this ending will be rewritten with the Courtesan choosing the Senator and without the lovers’ secret song. It will be rehearsed in the morning, ready for the opening tomorrow night."

"But, my dear Duke! That will be quite impossible"

You place a hand on Zidler, stepping past him, putting on a brilliant façade that you had been taught early on.

"Zidler the poor Duke is being treated appallingly! These silly writers let their imaginations run away with them." You laugh and approach the Duke, "Now why don’t you and I have a little supper and then, afterwards, we can let Zidler know how we would prefer the story to end, Hm?"

You can feel Obi-Wan is watching them, agony radiating from him.

The Duke agrees with you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. His words freeze your body. You nod and wait for him to leave the dancehall before letting out your breath.

Backstage, you are heading to her dressing room when Obi-Wan stops you. His hand snakes around your arm, holding you gently.

"I don’t want you to sleep with him." He whispers. You lay your forehead on his.

"He could destroy everything." You kiss his cheek, "It’s for us."

He shakes his head, holding back the tears in his eyes.

"You promised. You promised me you wouldn’t be jealous, you- It will be alright." Unsure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. He shakes his head again, unable to look you in the eyes. "Yes, it will…He’s waiting." You try to turn away but he reaches out to stop you, begging

"No…no…"

"Ben, come what may, remember." You whisper.

"Come what may." He whispers back finally allowing you to leave.

She had gone to the tower to save us all. And for our part, we could do nothing but wait.

In the Red Mill everyone seems concerned, sitting around the dancehall. Obi-Wan takes a swig of Tatooine wine. Nini saunters over, a mocking grin on her face as she Plops herself on Obi-wan’s lap.

"Don’t worry, you’ll get your ending. Once the Duke gets his…end…in." She laughs. Obi-Wan pushes her off his lap, almost lunging at her. Several male and female dancers jump between them.

"You get your hands off me!" She shouts.

The Narcoleptic Twi'lek holds a hand to Obi-Wan's chest after comforting Nini.

"Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself. It always ends bad!" The last word reverberates through the room. Everyone jumps a little. Henri watches, totally drunk. Obi-Wan looks ready to cry.

"We have a dance! In the brothels of Ryloth.

Tells the story of a prostitute and a man who falls in love with her."

He pulls Nini to him and they start to dance, mimicking what the Twi'lek is saying.

"First, there is desire. Then, passion. Then, suspicion, jealousy, anger, betrayal! When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. Without trust, there is no love! Jealousy…yes, jealousy will drive you mad!"

Obi-Wan watches as the dancers converge on Nini, passing her between them in a tango. As anger bubbles inside his chest Obi-Wan pulls a thick coat around himself and walks, eyes glued on the door. The dancers move around him.

Inside his mind he is reminded of Ruhan's last poem

HIS EYES UPON YOUR FACE

HIS HAND UPON YOUR HAND

HIS LIPS CARESS YOUR SKIN

IT’S MORE THAN I CAN STAND

WHY DOES MY HEART CRY

FEELINGS I CAN’T FIGHT?

YOU’RE FREE TO LEAVE ME

BUT JUST DON’T DECEIVE ME

AND PLEASE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY

I LOVE YOU

The words finally echoed his own heart as it shattered apart. The cool of the night air hits him and he walks mind clouded through the courtyard.

There is a force that stops him, halting his feet. A small voice calling out through the Force. He looks up to the balcony of the tower, seeing you standing there. Your eyes meet as the Duke steps up behind you, his hand snaking around your body. His lips whisper into your ear.

The sight makes Obi-Wan feel sick, dropping his eyes to the sand below his feet and walks back to his room in the building across the roadway.

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

In his room Obi-Wan crumbles, dropping to his knees as objects fly about the room, folding in on themselves. He sees no way of fighting his own emotions, they are too strong and hold too much power.

"No" he Huff's out the word, pushing himself back to his feet. He will not let this defeat him. Reminding himself that he must hide his Jedi heritage he cleans the room by hand. Throwing away every broken object away or hiding it in the closet.

Tired and broken Obi-Wan presses his head to the window allowing the glass to cool him.

The door swings open behind him and Chocolat this Wookie stands behind you. Tears stain your face.

"Y/n?" Obi-Wan runs to you, noting that you were no longer in your black dress, but your underwear.

"I couldn’t! I couldn’t go through with it! I saw you there and I felt terribly and I couldn’t pretend." You sob, "And the Duke, he saw! He saw and he…and he… Christian, I love you."

Obi-Wan pulls you into him, holding you tightly to his chest.

"It’s okay" he whispers.

You shake your head, "And I couldn’t do it; I didn’t want to pretend anymore. I didn’t want to lie, I don’t want," you pull back a bit. "And he knows. He knows, he saw" you're panicking chest rising and falling rapidly.

"It’s all right; you don’t have to pretend anymore. We’ll leave. We’ll leave tonight." He isn't sure what he is saying.

"Leave? But…the show…"

"I don’t care.I don’t care about the show. We have each other, and that’s all that matters."

A sad smile creeps onto your face and you feel all of him.

"Yes. As long as we have each other" you kiss him.

Obi-Wan Grabs the coat he had worn earlier and wraps.it around your shoulder.

"Chocolat, take Miss y/n to her dressing room and get the things she needs. No one must see you, do you understand?" The Wookie nods.

"Darling, you go and pack. And I’ll be waiting." You laugh tearfully kissing him.

Chocolat rushes you back info the Red Mill to your dressing room. You dart about packing up her things into a small bag, when you sees Zidler in the mirror and whirl to face him in surprise. Marie is there, too.

"Forgive the intrusion, Cherub." He sighs.

You turn and put her own coat on, having taken off Obi-Wan's

"You’re wasting your time, Zidler." You say turning away from him.

"Albeit. You don’t understand. The Duke is going to kill Ben."

You gasp a little at his words, looking at yourself self in the mirror.

"No…" Tears are already building up in your eyes.

"The Duke is insanely jealous. Unless you do his ending and sleep with him tomorrow night, the Duke will have Ben killed."

Composing yourself you turn back to Zidler.

"He can’t scare us." You know it's a lie.

"He’s a powerful man. You know he can do it." Zidler is almost begging you.

You stare at him for a moment and then throw your coat off, picking up your things. Zidler slithers closer to you.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

You cannot stop the tears falling as you replace Obi-Wan's coat on your shoulders.

"I don’t need you anymore! All my life, you me believe I was only worth what someone would pay for me! But Ben loves me. He loves me, Zidler. He loves me, and that is worth everything! We’re going away from you, away from the Duke, away from the Red Mill! Goodbye, Zidler." You Turn to the door, toward the Wookie.

"You’re dying, y/n.You’re dying." Zidler finally admits.

Your breath halts for a moment, a light cough reminding you of the days you'd lied in bed.

"Another trick?" You're hopeful.

"No, My Love. The doctor told us." The way his eyes look at you shows you how sorrowful the Hutt is.

"Marie?" You ask one last spark of hope. Marie just looks at you, tears shining in her own eyes. You take a few moments to digest it all

"I’m dying" you whisper, accepting the news.

"Send Christian away. Only you can save him." Zidler implores you.

"He’ll fight for me." You speak through your tears.

"Yes. Unless he believes you don’t love him."

"What?" You look at him.

"You’re a great actress, Satine. Make him believe you don’t love him. Use your talent to save him. Hurt him. Hurt him to save him. There is no other way. The show must go on, y/n. We are creatures of the underworld of Tatooine. We can’t afford to love."

You fall into the chair at the dressing table.

Zidler leaves your dressing room, slithering through the backstage area if the dance hall and he speaks,

"Another hero, another mindless crime

Behind the curtain, in the pantomime on and on, does anybody know what we are living for? Whatever happens, we leave it all chance, another heartache, another failed romance." He reaches the stage, where people are working and things are still being built. Moving down the aisle to the other side of the theatre he continues

"The show must go on outside the dawn is breaking, on the stage that holds our final destiny."

Maria turns back to you, having dressed you in a grey outfit that covered your body.

"The show must go on." She says, quiet and sad.

With your heart broken inside your chest you walk as if condemned to Obi-Wan's room, knocking on the door.

"What’s wrong?" He asks when he sees your stoic eyes.

"I’m staying with the Duke. After I left you, the Duke came to see me and he offered me everything. Everything that I’ve ever dreamed of, he'll take me away from here to the capitals. He has one condition. I must never see you again. I’m sorry." You announce still in the doorway.

"What are you talking about?" Obi-Wan doesn't understand.

You move away from him as he steps closer, and avoid eye contact with him.

"You knew who I was." You say.

"What are you saying? What about last night, what we said?" He feels himself beginning to beg you.

You slink around him, not allowing him to touch you.

"I don’t expect you to understand. The difference between you and I is that you can leave any time you choose but this is my home. The Red Mill is my home." You turn away from him to hide your pain.

"No," he can feel several emotions warring inside you, "there must be something else, this can’t be real, you-"

You're breathing a little too rapidly, either from your disease, or from holding back tears, though you suspect it is both.

"There’s something the matter, tell me what it is?" Obi-Wan tries to hold your hands but you hurry past him and out the door, coughing a few times. Ben catches you at the door, anger creeping to the surface rapidly.

"Tell me what’s wrong! Tell me the truth! Tell me the truth!"

Yanking your arm away from him you look him in the eye.

"The truth? The truth is I am the Naboo Courtesan, and I choose the Senator. That’s how the story really ends." You try to hold onto your sibs. Your eyes hold onto each other for a moment, before he lets you go.

A sand storm gathers on the horizon, Ben's heart has almost visibly been ripped in half. He trembles and staggers back to the bed.

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

Obi-Wan stands outside the doors to the Red Mill as sand bellows around him.

"Y/n, y/n!" He calls out.

You sit at your window, tears streaming down your cheeks as you watch two guards grab Ben’s arms and haul him across the street. Your name breaking through the thunderous noise of the sand. One guard hits him hard across the face and they walk away as he falls to the wet concrete. He had been through many wars but this was a different pain. Obi-Wan is carried inside by Satie and the others, lying him on his bed with a bruise forming on his cheekbone above his beard.

The day wears on. The storm passes and the rich of Tatooine file into the dancehall.

Ben sits on his bed with a blanket wrapped around him, and stares off numbly toward the window. Henri stands by the bed, smiling comfortingly.

"Things aren’t always as they seem." He tries to reassure the old Jedi.

"Things are exactly the way they seem." Obi-Wan rebutes.

"Ben, you may see me only as a drunken, vice-ridden Jawa whose friends are just pimps and girls from the brothels. But I know about art and love, if only because I long for it with every fibre of my being. She loves you. I know it, I know she loves you." His tiny body seems too out of place in this broken room.

"Go away, Henri. Leave me alone. Go. Away. Go away!" Obi-Wan shouts, behind Henri a plate shoots from the table and snacks against the wall. Henri, glances at it, takes his coat and leaves, with a last sad look at his tormented friend.

I wanted to shut out what Toulouse had said. But he had filled me with doubt, and there was only one way to be sure.

I had to know.

So I returned to the Red Mill. One last time.

Inside the Red Mill, the show is just starting.

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

The play goes on, the crows cheer and laugh, they sing and cry along with the characters. The Duke sits amongst his personal guests, his eyes fixed on you as you dance around the stage. Unaware that Obi-Wan was sneaking into the building, his Jedi training finally came into action. He moves through the dressing rooms staying behind costumes rails and curtains. Slipping behind actors one sees the tail of his tunic and the whispering begins.

With their parts ended Henri and Twi'lek are walking up a set of steps backstage. Henri taps his chin.

"There has to be a reason, I know she still loves him." He thinks out loud.

"How about one of them is a Duke and the other-" the Twi'lek's sentence is cut off by his narcolepsie taking control of him and he falls down the stairs right in front of Obi-Wan. Thinking quickly the Jedi removes his simple tunic and slips on the Twi'lek's elaborate costume.

Whilst this was happening you had run back to your dressing room to change into your last costume, the wedding dress. Your chest tightens and you feel a hot, thick liquid fill your throat. You spit it out onto a cloth, seeing the redness stain the material. Finally you understood your employer had not been lying. A shuffle and knocking of your things behind you catches your attention and you spin round to see Obi-Wan in the doorway.

At the edge of the stage Werner, grabs Zidler, who is now backstage, where Henri can see and hear them.

"The boy is here." The helmeted man states, angrily.

"We told y/n that if Ben were to come here, he’d be killed!" The Hutt gawks.

"He very soon will be." Werner pulls his blaster from It's holster.

Obi-Wan walks into your dressing room. You stare at each other for a moment.

Henri runs around behind the stage hoping to find Obi-Wan.

"He’ll be killed? That’s it…that’s why she’s pushing him away, to save him. That’s it, that’s it. Ben!" He cries out as the platform he’s on is raised up higher. Sees Warner moving quickly down the corridor.

"No! Don’t—Oh, God, this is high up!" He says to himself as he rises higher and higher.

"I’ve come to pay my bill." Obi-Wan chicks on the words. You hurry past him.

"You shouldn’t be here, Ben. Just leave.' You hope he'll listen. Obi-Wan stares off for a moment and then turns and follows you. As you rush away to get to your mark your breath becomes shallow, straining with each intake. Obi-Wan follows, hot on your heels.

"You did your job so very, very well!" He spits out at you, attempting to grab for you wrist.

"She’s got to get on stage" Marie hisses at the stage manager.

Obi-Wan follows you up a set of wooden steps.

"Why can’t I pay you like everyone else does!?" Tears are freely falling from his eyes. You turn to him, pleading with every part of your body.

"Don’t. Enn, there’s no point. Just leave."

You spin and run again, still Ben chasing after her again.

One of the stage hands grabs at Obi-Wan's shoulders pulling him back but he uses his training to slip out of his grasp and punch him. Ensuring the man falls safely to the ground Obi-Wan looks around trying to find you once more. You're stood atop a stage platform, eyes wide. A gun is pointing past you toward Obi-Wan and you gasp.

Feeling Obi-Wan ascend the steps you spin once more to face Obi-Wan, sobbing, begging and trying to block the blasters path.

"Go…go…" your tears match his.

Obi-Wan holds out wupiupi cash out for you.

"If it wasn’t real, why can’t I pay you?" His words cut through you.

Behind the door next to you, you can hear Zidler's voice as recites the lines of the play.

"Let me pay! Let me pay!" Obi-Wan pants.

You turn your head just enough to see Werner getting closer. Your hands grab at Obi-Wan's jacket, as your chest tightens further.

"Tell me it wasn’t real! Tell me" his words had turned to begging.

The door to the stage opens, revealing you and Obi-Wan. His hands on your wrists and you kneeling on the floor.

"Tell me you don’t love me!" He whispers as you sob but say nothing.

"Tell me you don’t love me!" He shouts. There is a murmur among the crowd, enlighten you both to their presence. The Duke pulls back his top lip, showing his teeth as anger ignites under his skin.

Panicking Zidler slithers across the stage.

"Hahaha! I am not fooled! Though he has shaved off his beard, and dons a disguise, my eyes do not lie! For it is he, the same Penniless Kloo Player! Driven mad by jealousy" He calls out, the audience murder again in a unified realisation.

Obi-Wan drags you by the wrist down the stage a bit, and lets you fall back to the floor. You cough trying to catch your breath between sobs. He moves away from you speaking apparently to Zidler's character, but actually to the Duke.

"This woman is yours now." He throws the bag of money to the floor next to you and it spills out across the stage. "I’ve paid my whore." His eyes turn to you as you gaze up at him, with tears flowing from your eyes. "I owe you nothing and you’re nothing to me." Obi-Wan chicks on his own sobs, "Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love." He walks off the stage, everyone behind him knows how real this is, and Obi-Wan stops to stare at the Duke for a moment before walking down the aisle.

Henri claps a hand to his forehead, "I can’t remember my line" below him Zidler attempts to stay in character and get you to stand. Henri tries to remember, his eyes darting around himself. Seeing that Obi-Wan is leaving, Werner replaces his blaster and begins to move away from the stage.

You try to compose yourself, pushing up to stand, your tear filled eyes looking at Zidler.

"I’ve got it! I’ve got it! Ben!" Henri shouts at the top of his voice interrupting Zidler. His silly costume tripping him and he starts to fall to the stage, catching himself, dangling from the platforms.

"The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!" As his voice echoes, something inside you seems to click, the actors on stage and the audience glance between each other. The Duke scowls up at you as you slowly turn around. You sing,

"NEVER KNEW I COULD FEEL LIKE THIS"

He stops briefly, Obi-Wan's face nearly crumbles, and he slowly starts to walk again. He is sure this is just a cruel game you're hell bent on playing.

"LIKE I’VE NEVER SEEN THE SKY BEFORE

WANT TO VANISH INSIDE YOUR KISS" you continue. Obi-Wan stops again. It sounds so real, the pull of your force signature screaming at him.

"EVERY DAY I’M LOVING YOU MORE AND MORE

LISTEN TO MY HEART, CAN YOU HEAR IT SING?"

He turns slowly, and sees that it is real you're calling to him with your eyes and your voice. Life seems to float back into his eyes and a smile tugs at his lips.

"COME BACK TO ME AND FORGIVE EVERYTHING!"

The high note makes you take a gasp for air, nearly coughing. The Duke smiles, having no idea that you are singing to Obi-Wan. The Jedi is watching you, tearful with happiness. Satie conducts the orchestra in gentle music to accompany your words.

"SEASONS MAY CHANGE, WINTER TO SPRING

I love you.

‘TIL THE END OF TIME"

Finally Obi-Wan breaks,

"COME WHAT MAY" he begins the male part of the song, "COME WHAT MAY

COME WHAT MAY," he heads up to the stage, as you walking downstage to meet him, "COME WHAT MAY

I WILL LOVE YOU"

The song continues around you both, the actors and dancers joining in. The Duke growls.under his breath and speaks into a communicator on his wrist. The Mandalorian man servant draws his balster and aims at Obi-Wan as he holds you. Henri spies him and leaps from the platform he had been holding onto.

"Christian! He’s got a gun!" His fall knocks the blaster from Werner's hands and topples them both to the ground. The blaster slides along the stage.

"They’re trying to kill you!" Henri shouts, getting to his feet. The audience laughs at Henri.

Chaos breaks out across the dancehall, people running around and screaming as Werner tries to dash for his gun. His movements trigger a bunch of flashes to go off on stage, and everyone runs around crazily. Chocolat kicks Warner in the head a few times, and manages to kick the gun away. It falls from the stage with a think right at the Duke's feet. He had stood to leave, anger piping from his red hot ears. Hearing the blaster clatter to the aisle behind him he turns. The cast continue to sing out their hearts. The Duke picks up the blaster, holding it out in front of him

The chorus lifts up you and Obi-Wan.

"I WILL LOVE YOU" the sing is hitting it's crescendo.

The Duke rushes to the stage, with the gun pointed at Obi-Wan.

"My way! My way! My way!! My way!" He screams out like a feral beast.

Zidler spins and flicks out his tail hitting the Duke across the face, before he gets there. The Duke falls and the blaster spins away.

The entire cast sing the last words of the song.

"‘TIL MY DYING DAY"

The Duke sits up dejectedly as the curtain falls. The audience gives a standing ovation, applauding wildly. The entire cast is ecstatic, all laughing and congratulating each other. Obi-Wan presses a kiss to your lips, happiness waving off him. Somewhere behind the stage manager calls out.

"Stand by for curtain call! Dancers, positions please!"

Obi-Wan starts to pull you over for curtain call. Stepping away from you just slightly. You can't move, your chest feels like it's on fire, every breath burning your throat. You begin to fall as Obi-Wan looks back to you and he catches you. The smile fades from his face.

"Y/n?"

You begin to cough violently. Henri, Zidler, and other cast members notice what’s happening, their smiles replaced with dread.

"Y/n, what’s the matter?" Obi-Wan asks, holding you in his arms, the coughing eases but you know it isn't a good sign. His knees buckle sending you both to the floor, though he tries to slow your fall.

"What? Darling,darling, what’s the matter? Darling Y/n, what’s the matter?"

Your breathing is raspy and violent, worse than it’s been yet. The noise around him all but silences in his ears. You cough again.

"Gods, Oh my God" Obi-Wan breaths out, Seeing blood dripping from your mouth and touched it with his thumb. Finally Obi-Wan understood his Padawan. The way his mouth ran dry and dripped with spit at the same time. Tears fell freely, staining his face.

"Somebody get some help!" He screamed out.

"Hold the curtain! Fetch the doctor!" Zidler hissed to his stage manager.

You reach up to him, your arm feeling to heavy.

"I’m sorry, Christian…I…I’m…I’m…I’m dying." You say as loud as you can muster your voice. Your lover refuses to believe it.

"Shhh…shhh…it’s all right." He holds on to you. The cast is all watch on, silently.

Every breath hurts you

"I’m so sorry." You whisper.

"No, you’ll be alright. You’ll be alright." Obi-Wan's tears drip onto your face. You wish you could believe him.

"Cold…I’m cold…cold. Hold me." You say to him, hoping his heat would change something. Obi-Wan holds you close to him, he searches the faces around him, afraid of their pained expression. He smiles a little for you.

"I love you." He says so only you can hear.

You smiles back, and can only whisper.

"You’ve got to go on, Ben."

His voice breaks as he speaks.

"Can’t go on without you, though." He attempts to laugh but it comes.out as a sob.

"You’ve got so much to give" You reach up and touch his face as he tries to hold back his tears.

"Don't hide away forev, Ben. The world needs you."

He shakes his head and starts to weep harder.

"No…"

"Yes… Promise me. Promise me. Don't shut yourself off from the force." He gulps realising you knew what he was. "That way, I’ll…I’ll always be with you." He nods to you, pulling you closer to him again.

You take a few soft, gasping breaths, smiling at Obi-Wan as he weeps and kisses you one last time.

As he pulls back, the force tells him as his heart breaks in two. You are dead. He cradles your body as coloured paper still floats around you. There isn't a dry eye amongst the cast. Beyond the curtain the audience continue their applause, unaware of your demise. The Duke boards his ship scowling back at the Bordello.

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks turned into months. And then, one not-so-very special day, I went to my datapad, I sat down, and I wrote our story.

A story about a time, a story about a place, a story about the people but above all things, a story about love.

A love that will live forever in the heart of a once great Jedi.

My story does not end here, there would be adventures yet to have but my heart stayed forever within the walls of the RED MILL.

The end.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #sw rots #star wars fanfiction #star wars #moulin rouge

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leftnotright · 8 months

Text

A TEXTBOOK EDUCATION

"This will be a skill-building experience. You've had it too easy. You've had your Family name to back you, and your Right Hand at your every call. It's time you learn to carry yourself, to build from the ground up." Dino Cavallone, the Cavallone Don, fresh out of high school.

Reborn, the deadliest hitman of the modern era, has a special kind of torture up his sleeve for his dear struggling student. Dino will have to see how well he handles alienation, isolation, and worst of all, class participation. “Now, go on, my useless student Dino. Let’s continue your education.” (Or: Reborn sends Dino to Australia. It goes better than he could have ever hoped.)

Parings: N/A Characters: Dino (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Vic Hunt (OC - Original Character), Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Romario (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Cavallone Famiglia, Enzo (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Original Characters Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, University, Pre-Canon, Financial Issues, Fluff And Angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

CHAPTER 6: I'VE ALREADY HID THE BODY

Dino patted his face dry gingerly, looking every bit the drowned rat he felt like.

Hot water had all but reignited the powder the man had thrown at him, and as soon as Dino had stepped into what he had hoped to be a relaxing, warm shower, he had immediately regretted it. So, Dino had subjected himself to a speedrun of a freezing shower to get as much of the powder, old water and soil off of him.

The soil had been the hardest. It had been in every one of his sweaty nooks and crannies.

Dino had only dug a grave himself once before. He hoped he remembered all the steps.

Dino continued to pat his red, blotchy face as he slumped into some clothes and, finally, looked at the state of his dorm.

Powdery handprints, footsteps and drag marks covered the place. There was water on his papers and soaking both his textbooks and carpet, and so many things had been knocked over and pulled down in the fight. It was going to take forever to clean.

Dino sighed and looked at the clock, already 11PM. At least he didn’t have class tomorrow.

He moved to the coffee table and gently pulled at his papers. Thankfully, none of the Mafia-related ones were damp, but Dino was going to have to reprint that spreadsheet handed out at his last tutorial. He packed away the sensitive documents in their hidden cubbyhole.

Enzo plodded out from Dino’s bedroom, finally deciding to leave his sunlamp and sand bath.

“Some help you were,” Dino pouted.

Enzo peered up at him with beady eyes, then made a b-line for the water spill.

“Hey! Hey! No!” Dino shouted and scooped up the turtle who continued to wiggle his legs in his insatiable water-lust.

Then Dino froze and listened.

The crunch of boots against pavement and leaves. The rustle of fabric against skin. The jangle of metal. Laboured breaths and a sigh through clenched teeth. The knock of knuckles against a door.

Dino blinked. Knocking?

Carefully, Dino peered through the slits of his blinds and spotted the figure at his door. Their head snapped around.

“Dino! Show me the baby damn it!”

Dino sputtered. What was Vic doing here at 11PM!?

“Let me see the little babyman!” Vic whined again.

Dino didn’t know if it was his anxiety-induced people pleasing, or the fact that Dino all but had a death grip on the knowledge that Vic was his friend who liked Dino and his company, but before he could think, Dino’s mouth had happily said: “Of course!”

Then Dino choked and shouted, “No!”

But Vic had already marched through his door.

Dino looked at Vic, then at the state of his dorm, then back at the frightening still girl.

Slowly, Dino extended Enzo towards Vic and said in a small voice, “Do you want to hold the baby?”

Vic turned her head to look at Dino, and Dino saw the moment her temper snapped.

“What the fuck happened!?”

Dino’s face must have been worse than he thought, because the moment Vic laid eyes on him, she lost her head. Vic crossed the room in long, heavy strides and grabbed him by the head so she could see the chapped, red skin. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, his nose was crusty and peeling, and Dino was still damp.

Vic looked upon Dino and the state of his dorm, and it all pieced together. Vic could hear that familiar rumble in her ears, and the pressure in her throat — but as she moved Dino’s head to see if there was any more damage to him, she saw a tear track down his cheek and Vic did everything she could to stomp down that anger.

The pressure eased, but that rumble remained, a constant background noise that made it hard for her to hear, to think. Vic gritted her teeth and bore it.

Her baby boy Dino had just been robbed, and possibly attacked! He had been alone and crying, for who knew how long — and of course this had to happen on a night when there were two house parties going on, so no one was aware of the world, or too piss drunk to care.

“Are you okay?” She asked, and let go of Dino’s head, circling around Dino and nudging at his body.

Dino flinched with a sharp hiss when Vic prodded his shoulder and he quickly spun around, “I’m fine! Promise! No lies!”

“Yes lies,” Vic snapped and poked him in the shoulder again, “How the fuck did you get hurt? Did they jump you? Where are they, I’m gonna beat their ass—”

“No, no, no,” Dino rambled and grabbed Vic by her arm to redirect her deeper into the dorm, kicking his door shut behind them. “Far away, they are far away now. They will not come back, I am sure.”

They paused as something crunched under Vic’s foot, and they both looked down to see shattered glass underneath her boots. Vic looked at Dino over her shoulder with eyes sharp enough to cut, and Dino continued to push her over to the dining table.

He thinned his lips when he saw the state of the back porch door, the way the hitman had entered.

“Your fucking deck door is smashed—”

“It can be replaced—”

“Dino!” Vic shouted, sounding appalled and she spun around to grab Dino back. “Why are you so calm about this!?”

“It is over,” Dino said slowly, and let her grip him by the forearms, her nails digging in and grip so tight she was shaking. “It is over.”

Vic was not calm at the moment, but Dino could see she was trying. Trying so hard to keep it together, but she was slipping constantly. Everything she saw was something to set off the tripwire in her brain — Dino knew that feeling well.

Then Vic stared at him, her nails still biting his skin, and she uttered, “You’re used to this.”

Dino winced but nodded and gave what he hoped was a comforting smile, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m used to this. It is not the first time.”

Vic swallowed hard and squeezed Dino’s arms again. She wasn’t satisfied. But her anger had gone quiet, a rolling boil just under her skin that she could keep a careful lid on.

“Okay, fine,” she said, taking slow, deep breaths through her teeth. Her voice was low, like she was trying not to wake what was left. “Fine. We’ll— for a few hours— we’ll act like this is fine.”

“For a few hours,” Dino agreed but didn’t pull away.

Vic puffed out a sigh, “But are you okay? Like, actually. Other than your shoulder, I mean.”

“Yes, I am well,” he assured, and she gave him a short look. “I promise.”

“...Okay. Okay, that’s good,” she relented, and then looked at the state of Dino’s dormhouse. “Fuck, they made a mess.”

“Yeah, it will take a while to clean up.”

Vic let go of Dino’s arms and rubbed her face, before she clapped her hands loudly.

“Let’s get cracking, then,” she said, and set into the mess.

Dino blinked at Vic, then put Enzo down and rushed to join her. He brought over a dustpan from under the sink and swept up the spilt pot soil as Vic picked up the shattered plastic terracotta bits with her gloves.

Dino looked over at Vic and took in what she was wearing: beige, steel-capped boots, jeans and a red polo shirt. She had a bulky carabiner clipped to her belt, cluttered with an arrangement of keys, glove clips and some kind of yellow tool with small blades.

“Where were you?” Dino asked, looking her over and Vic paused dropping those shards in the dustpan.

“Work,” she answered, “I do the closing shift on Friday.”

Dino blinked slowly, “Oh. That is all work items?”

Vic looked down at her carabiner and bounced in her squat to make it give a little jangle, “Yeah. Locker key, mover key, bat knife, mini measuring tape. Other ring is car and the dorm key though.”

“You came from work then?” Dino asked as he pulled over his kitchen bin to dump everything.

Vic stared at the limp, blackened succulent on the floor and tossed it in the trash as well. She rose from the floor with a groan and punched at her lower back as she moved over to the next mess.

“Yeah. Wanted to see Enzo. And you too, I guess, you’re here.”

“Thanks,” Dino said flatly, and heard Vic snicker as she inspected the handprints on the walls and floor. “But it is so late, why did you come now?”

Vic glanced at Dino before she shifted on the spot, and carefully touched the powder with her gloved finger, trying to see if it would wipe off easily.

“Had a bit of a shit shift, is all,” she said.

Vic moved to the dustpan and beat off any remaining soil, before she moved to the walls.

“I, uh, I will do that,” Dino insisted and dashed over to take the brush from her hands. He had felt what that powder was like, and he didn’t want Vic getting any of that in her eyes or lungs. “I do not know what the powder is.”

Vic’s frown returned with a vengeance and the grinding of teeth. She turned on her heel and opened the front door and every available window, channelling her temper into fighting with the stubborn bathroom windows.

Dino smiled at Vic as she started scooping up the back porch door’s glass while muttering under her breath. He pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth before he started brushing that capcaissum-like dust off the walls.

By the time they were done, it was well past midnight, and Dino had a lot of laundry to do come the morning after stripping his bed and couch of their covers. Vic had managed to use trash bags and a mini stapler to wrap Dino’s porch - deck - door and keep out the bugs.

Dino came inside from putting out the bins and locked the flyscreen door to the front, still airing out that powder. He stopped when he saw Vic standing in his, thankfully untouched, kitchen.

“They stole your food too!?”

She opened one cabinet after another, nary a scrap or packet in sight. All that was there were plates and haphazardly stacked pots. Dino blinked slowly, the clock blurry in the corner of his vision.

“I suppose?” He said, “I did not have much food. Cooking is not strong.”

Vic looked at him, “How much is not much.”

Dino thinned his lips. Vic continued to stare at him.

“...I did not have any stored there.”

“Dino,” she said shortly, then she pinched her brow and looked around, “Then where do you store your stuff?”

Dino moved to the fridge and opened it. Kebabs and various pastas from the student Ubar took up the top shelf, a jug of water and a half-drunk Pepsi in the door. There was nothing else.

Vic looked at him.

“I am one man,” he reasoned in response to that flat stare.

Vic thought about it for a moment, before nodding in her head in defeat, “Okay, fair.”

Then Vic went about looking at those cabinets again, all hauntingly empty. She seemed to count them, then count the five shelves in the fridge, with only one in use. Ample storage, far too much for ‘one man’ with little to no guests. Dino watched as she sized up the space, wondering what was going on.

“Have you had dinner yet?” Vic asked, looking over her shoulder.

“No,” Dino admitted slowly, “I have not had time.”

He had been too nervous to eat before the meeting, save that cookie Vic had given him, and too busy afterwards. His usual shop in the Ubar for a hot meal would be long closed by now — besides, Dino rarely had an appetite after handling a corpse.

Dino suddenly wondered if his lightheadedness was from that powder, or over 12 hours without a proper meal. He needed to eat soon.

“Proposal!” Vic announced and Dino snapped to attention just as a cup of cool water was shoved into his hands. “You lemme store my foodstuffs in your capacious cupboards, and I’ll help you learn to cook! Life skills, My Little Pony, life skills!”

“But, you have a kitchen in your dormhouse? Do you not use it?”

Vic’s smile twitched and became the baring of teeth.

“I would, but roommates,” she said, voice strained. “They kept using my stuff without asking, and they didn’t even replace it!” Vic took a large breath and crossed her arms, “I just keep everything in eskies now.”

Dino blinked. He remembered those three coolers stacked up on top of each other in the corner of Vic’s bedroom. Vic was hoarding her food in her room to protect it.

Dino sipped at his water and glanced at his storage. More than one man, one university student, could fill. Again, Dino’s anxious need to please reared its head. The idea of Vic, his friend, having to all but resource guard in her own dormhouse only fanned those flames. Dino fought it as best he could.

“Yeah!”

Which wasn’t much. At all. But he tried!

Then Dino remembered what was shoved into his underwear drawer, and what was coiled up in his back pocket. What was stored away in a cubby hole, what was cooling deep in the dirt outside. Mafia shit.

“But, uh, please be careful of my items,” he pressed, imagining the chaos of Vic finding any of his files.

“Of course,” Vic nodded, not an inch of humour or sarcasm in her tone. “Your dorm, your stuff. I won’t touch anything unless I have the go from you.”

Dino relaxed a bit.

“Anyway, gimme a sec and I’ll grab us some dinner. Be right back!” And Vic was out the door with the vicious jangle of her keys.

Dino resisted the urge to rub his face lest he irritate his still-red skin, and instead went about fitting the sheets back onto his bed so he had somewhere to sleep all of this off.

Dino sat on the floor of his living room, not willing to use the bare couch, especially with that suspicious stain that they had exposed. He gave a glance to the washing baskets full of laundry for tomorrow and tried not to think about how his lazy day was no longer looking any sort of lazy.

Enzo took that moment to appear, rounding the side of the couch and chomped Dino’s socked toes.

“Ouch!” Dino hissed and yanked his foot away. “Damn it Enzo!”

“Is that the baby I hear!?” Dino heard from outside and looked over to see Vic hauling two eskies down Dino’s path, dressed down into her usual garb.

Dino stood and let her in, the girl hoisting the eskies up over the step and into his living room.

“I’ve got butter chicken leftovers that need to be eaten soon and naan bread for a quick and dirty dinner,” she offered, taking off her shoe next to the door where Dino’s were.

“Okay,” Dino agreed and went about getting out the few plates he had, running them under the tap just in case.

“Is there anywhere in particular you’d want me to stay out of?” Vic asked, crouched in front of Dino’s fridge.

Dino shrugged as he briefly tried to read the instructions of microwaved rice. He didn’t really use more than the top shelf by himself. Divvying up a fridge had never been a pressing matter.

Dino shrugged and put the rice in the microwave, punching in the numbers he saw on the packaging.

Vic hummed unsurely up at Dino, before she slipped a bottle of almond milk into the second bottom shelf. Dino stared at the bottle and remembered suddenly: Vic is lactose intolerant.

“Top two can be yours, and we can discuss the door shelves when you’re not ready to pass out.”

“How are you so alive?” Dino asked, still fighting the need to rub his eyes.

Or, well, as ‘alive’ as someone as lethargic as Vic could be. It hadn’t been quick, like coming down a steep slope, but Vic had returned to her lazy state as she stocked up Dino’s fridge.

“Night shift, baby,” Vic sang flat, and put her esky aside as she closed the fridge. “And I didn’t get broken into.”

Dino huffed and Vic gave a short laugh that had to all but crawl from her throat. Then she stopped, sniffed and snapped her head around, “How long did you put that in for?”

Dino looked over his shoulder and smelt melting plastic. Dino yelped and scrambled for the cancel button, the microwave door popped open and steam and white smoke came pouring out. Vic hacked and couched, and Dino slammed the door shut again.

Dino glanced at Vic. Vic looked at Dino.

Vic put the container of butter chicken into the fridge, middle shelf.

“Let’s just eat cereal tonight.”

A bowl of almost-chocolate milk sat in Dino’s lap as he and Vic watched videos of silly cats on her laptop, the girl herself munching through her share of Milo cereal. Enzo peaked up and over Vic’s thigh, happily cradled in the nest of her crossed legs.

“How’s your shoulder?” Vic asked out of the blue, and Dino glanced at her.

She looked drowsy, all but slumped against the baseboard of his couch. Her bowl tipped dangerously. Each breath she took was long and paced.

“It’s okay,” Dino said, moving his murky cereal soup around. “They did not hurt me. I did not even see them.”

Vic breathed out, long and slow. A cat fell into a bathtub. Another got scared by a piano. Vic ate a heaped spoonful.

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

Dino blinked, “Pardon?”

Vic watched a cat run headlong into a glass door.

“You had someone break in. People usually don’t wanna be alone after that, ya know?” she huffed, “I don’t particularly want to leave you alone, either. They might get cocky and come back.”

Dino looked at the dots of black dirt under his nails, the last remnants he couldn’t scrub out. He doubted they would be coming back.

Dino glanced at Vic. A civilian would be shaken by a break-in. Right. Already, this breach had put Vic on edge. Hypervigilance. She would be watching Dino, and everything around him. Dino had to act civilian.

“I would like that, yes,” Dino nodded gently, and Vic nodded back.

Then she tipped back the last of her almond milk and got to her feet, Enzo wheezing at the abandonment.

“I’ll go grab my nighties and shit then. Be right back.”

Dino watched Vic go, before he reached for his phone and texted Romario.

Dino Cav Vic is staying the night in my dormhouse.

Romario did not respond for at least ten minutes. Then Dino’s phone started to shake on the countertop as ‘Romario’ became ‘Romario (15)’ and ‘Zio Croix (7)’.

Dino paused rinsing the bowls and looked at his phone, wondering about the frenzy — and how Zio Croix was caught up in it. He put the bowls on the drying rack Vic had found deep in his cupboards, but before he could reach to address those texts, Vic was once again knocking on his screen door.

Dino let her in and was immediately faced with felt teeth.

Vic’s head peered from around the large, nearly life-sized, toy shark. She grinned with teeth, nearly the spitting image.

“Meet Nip,” she introduced, shaking that shark at Dino. “My cuddle shark.”

“...Hello Nip,” Dino uttered and made way as the girl shuffled into the dorm. “Why?”

“I need to hug something to fall asleep,” she said as she put down a tote bag against the side of Dino’s couch. “Hence: cuddle shark, Nip.” Vic looked around and said, “So uh, where do you want me to sleep?”

Dino paused and looked at the couch, stripped bare and with newly exposed, suspicious stains. He looked at the laundry basket, the only spare sheets in the dorm, and in danger of holding that powder residue.

“Did not think about it,” Dino said slowly.

He had towels, but he couldn’t ask Vic, his guest, to sleep on towels. All of the Cavallone would have his head!

“I will sleep in this room,” Dino offered, thinking of laying towels on the couch. “And you may have my bed.”

Vic tilted her head, “But you’re the one who needs the better sleep. I can sleep on the couch.”

“Please, my Family would kill me,” Dino nearly pleaded.

Vic let out a short bark of a laugh and hiked up her shark onto her shoulder. She looked down the hall into Dino’s bedroom and hummed before she turned to Dino and said, “Mate, you’ve got a queen size. We can share if you’re comfy?”

Dino stared at Vic, “You would like to share?”

Vic shrugged, “Up to you, I’m good for it though.”

Dino looked at his bed, then at the couch, then at Vic and her life-sized shark. Immediately, Dino was rushed with a nervous excitement. He felt his face split into a shaky smile and rocked on his heels, full of elated jitters.

“I am okay!” He agreed, “We can share, yes!”

Dino had taken a while to get used to the bed at the dormhouse. It wasn’t especially soft or hard, but it was different. He sorely missed his own pillow; this one made his neck hurt for the first few weeks.

So Dino understood as he watched Vic pull the slip off his spare pillow and replaced it with her own. She folded the slip up and laid it on the chair in the corner. Then she stood in front of Enzo’s suitcase, full of topsoil and sticks.

“They stole his fucking enclosure,” she whispered staring down at it and the way Enzo slowly rubbed himself into his sandpit.

Dino decided it was an investment in his personal safety to let her believe that.

She squatted down and gently petted Enzo’s shell with the soft utterance of ‘red-eared slider, my ass’ before she clambered up into the bed, Nip in arms. Dino fisted his sheets in his hands, sat on ‘his side’ of the bed, a clear divide down the middle.

Vic sat on her side, lamp the only light in the room.

Dino smiled at Vic, “I have never had a sleepover before.”

Dino could barely contain himself. Sure, it was under less-than-ideal circumstances, but Dino was having his first sleepover with his friend! He couldn’t wait to tell Romario.

Vic blinked, “Me neither.”

All the movies Dino had seen showed people at sleepover playing games and consuming an array of foods — none of which he had on hand. Especially with his microwave out of commission until it stopped smelling of something toxic. He remembered his classmates back in Italy discussing sleepovers, well ‘rendezvous’ or ‘meetings’, as they called it at the time. Dino didn’t think Vic would much like it if their sleepover activity was an impromptu helicopter ride like the Tomaso Family did.

Dino tugged at his blankets a bit, “What do we want to do?”

Vic flopped back into the bed and bodily wrapped herself around her shark, pulling the duvet all the way up to her chin.

“Sleep,” she decided, and God that sounded utterly sublime.

Dino didn’t hesitate to curl up like a little comfort crustacean. His head hit the pillow and all those dopamine jitters were sapped straight from his bones for melatonin mugginess.

“Good idea,” Dino grumbled and Vic turned out the lights.

☁ ☁ ☁

“Hey Romario?” Dino asked as he held the phone to his ear, watching on as Vic stubbornly piled the straps of several hefty shopping bags onto her hands and waddled into his dorm. “Would you be able to send me some, uh, cooking stuff?”

“Cooking stuff,” Romario echoed slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, as Vic organised their food in the cupboards and fridge, following some sort of system Dino had no clue about. “Stuff that I’d need for cooking. Cooking stuff.”

“Very well, Boss. I’ll ask the chef to organise a basic package.”

“Perfect! Thanks a lot, Romario,” Dino said, before wheezing as Vic shoved a bag of flatbread in his chest.

“Come on, ponyboy, we’re making wraps for lunch,” Vic announced, waving the bag of roasted chicken. “No way we can mess this up.”

Later, Dino choked on a bone. Vic now knew the correct spelling for ‘heimlich’.

☁ ☁ ☁

Sunday morning, Vic sat on the couch, still smelling fresh from the laundry, and bodily wrapped around Nip as she watched Dino haul a box into the living room. He wheezed and heaved, dragging the box as it clanged and banged with whatever was inside.

“Doing good there buddy?” Vic asked, but made no move to help.

“Good,” Dino said, before his socked feet slipped out from under him and he fell on his ass. “Still good!”

Vic snorted and leant over the edge of the couch to rummage through her bag. She pulled out a box knife from her balled-up work apron and tossed it at Dino who was haplessly picking at the taped-up box.

Dino fumbled with the knife for a bit, before he managed to open the box. Vic peered over his shoulder.

“The hell is this?” She asked as Dino pulled out one smaller box after another, carefully packaged and wrapped in scrunched-up newspaper. She snagged a page and squinted; Italian. “This from home?”

“Yeah! I asked Romario to send some tools!”

“Ah, Romario,” Vic uttered. Her rival for custody of Dino.

Dino grinned at Vic, happy she knew so many of his Family by name. He really should have thought it dangerous, negligent even, that he was letting a civilian know so many of the pieces that made the Cavallone’s top level — but really, Dino reasoned, when would it come up again? Vic was going to be a teacher in Australia, after all.

Dino huffed as Vic batted at him with Nip to get him to hurry up and show her what he had been sent.

A pasta machine, made of black cast iron and polished wood, came out first. It was heavy and Dino wheezed as he tried to raise it up to show Vic. On the bottom, Dino could read VillaWare Manufacturing Co. 1908. The head chef had always found it a bit annoying that the first pasta maker had been built in Cleveland, USA of all places.

Dino gave it a testing crank. It was old, but it turned without so much a creak.

The next item Dino pulled wasn't exactly heavy but had a heft to it that made his fingers hurt as he clutched the edge. A circular slab of stone, flat as a tack and thick with little handles on either side; a pizza stone. Accompanied by a pizza paddle that Vic used as a rather dangerous choice of fan.

The last large piece was a large pan, at least a finger in depth. Dino had seen the chefs use this kind of pan to make sauces before.

Aside from that, the box was full of miscellaneous bits and bobs, some coming in multiples in a way that made Dino think they were important — did he really need that many wooden spoons? Why were they different shapes?

At the bottom, sat a few small folded paper packages. Dino reached in and read that familiar handwriting on the backs: basil, rosemary, thyme, oregano. Seeds, sent from home.

“You got a letter,” Vic hummed from over Dino’s shoulder and he jumped to attention and saw an envelope wedged beneath the folds of the box. “What’s it say?”

Dino leant back into the couch as he read Romario’s clean and precise handwriting, always a stickler for clarity and precision, down to the penmanship.

“Instructions to look after the pasta machine,” he said, before getting to the bottom of the letter. “They are going to send more later. A, uh, ‘care package’?”

“More!?” Vic asked, looking at what was already spread across the coffee table, stacked on top of each other and nearly toppling off the edge.

“Yeah, my Family tends to over-give sometimes,” Dino chuckled, still trying to figure out why there was a random, gritty block packaged with the knives. “A lot of us live in one household under the head, so we use quite a bit.”

Vic blinked, “You all live in one big house?”

“Yes! After induction, you are to live in the house until deemed ready!”

Dino's smile froze. Vic stared at him with a particular look on her face that somehow told Dino that something he had said was not a social norm.

“What?” Vic uttered, and squinted even as her eyebrows shot up.

Dino wheezed and started waving his hands frantically, “I, uh, mean — the new members of the Family come to live in the house! It is safe there and tradition and uh— Please do not focus on it—!”

Vic lurched to sit up on the couch, Nip the shark all but flung across the living room as she gaped at Dino’s spluttering self.

He fucked up!

“Wait, are you in a cult?”

Oh, he fucked up!

“Dino? Are you? In a cult?” she pressed, both fascinated and concerned. “Like, you can tell me, I won’t judge. My uncle believes that a secret race of people called the ‘True Earthlings’ run the world.”

“No, I’m not in a cul— your uncle believes what?” Dino squinted. “How? Why does he think that?”

“Beats me,” Vic shrugged as she crossed her legs, feet pressed flat against one another. “But he talks about it at pretty much every family gathering. We usually change the topic.” Then she rocked forward on the couch and loomed over Dino. “But you. Cult?”

“No,” Dino stressed, “We are not a cult. We are a Family.”

“Sounds like a cult, not gonna lie,” Vic muttered, scratching at the piercing hole in her ear.

“Not a cult!”

“Okay, okay,” Vic laughed and backed off. “But fuck mate, that must be a big house you’ve got.”

Dino smiled, remembering those long halls and polished floors, perfecting the sliding on socks and being dragged on blankets. “Yes, enough room for everyone.”

Vic huffed and groaned as she got to her feet.

“Okay, let’s get that machine cranking! Pasta time!” She paused and looked down at Dino. “You know how to make pasta noodles right? You’re Italian.”

“Did you remember to park your koala?” Dino shot back. “And I’m Sicilian.”

Vic stuck her tongue out at Dino and flipped him off, “The stereotype is ‘kangaroo’, you Sicilian piece of shit. Now get up, we’re gonna Youtube it.”

Vic was glad they had started preparing their dinner early, as the next half an hour resulted in a rather frantic back and forth of more egg yolk, more flour, more egg, more flour, more egg, more flour, more—

“I don’t think we can eat all of this,” Dino murmured as the two looked down at the ball of rested dough the size of a small toddler.

“Speak for yourself, coward,” Vic huffed and grabbed handfuls.

True to her words, Vic ate her whole serving of five large bowls. Dino had to rub her belly as she laid on the couch in pasta-ey regret.

At least, now Dino had plenty of pasta in the fridge. He would be eating it for a while.

☁ ☁ ☁

Dino laid on his couch, a sheet of paper draped across his face. Enzo gently gnawed on his shin through his pyjama pants.

He was bored. And lonely.

Semester break had set in. Dino had meant to go home over the mid-year break, spend the semester's end on Sicilian soil. Instead, when Winter crawled into the southern hemisphere and Dino had reached for the plane tickets home—

“I’m sorry Boss, Reborn’s instructions were clear. You can’t come back this time, not yet.”

Dino had damn near broken into tears.

Instead, after much bed-rotting, Dino had thrown himself into the familiar stress of number crunching, creating pages of cramped value tables and highlighted budget summaries. On the floor sat a bin full of tear-soggy tissues.

Vic had gone upstate to New Castle for the mid-year break, but Dino hadn’t had the time to miss her company as she made sure to text her ‘poor, lonesome boy’ at least once a day. Dino’s phone was full of photos of ‘blobfish babies’ and some kind of mixed mutt that looked like it could win a bullfight called Pepper. Or, as Vic liked to call her: ‘Pepe my sweet little girl, so beautiful!’

Dino did have to admit, her baby cousin, Ant, did look a bit like a blobfish. A cute one. A cute blobfish.

He still wished she was here, though. Dino had never liked the quiet, it never brought good things. For Dino, a quiet house was a house in mourning.

Dino tried to play some old Italian music to help the homesickness. He found he couldn’t stand it without the sound of Romario snoring in his armchair, or Brutus heckling at the football.

Dino crossed his arms over his eyes, the sheet wrinkled under the weight.

“I wanna go home, Enzo,” he murmured, muffled.

Enzo made another bite at his shin.

“I wanna see Vic.”

☁ ☁ ☁

It had been months since Dino had struck a deal with the rest of the Cavallone: Bet everything on one last race. Bet everything on the Cavallone horses.

And yet, he had made minimal progress.

The search for jockeys had been difficult, he hadn’t even known where to start. But as he paged through the list of names and backgrounds Romario had sent, Dino could see his options wearing thin.

There were jockeys, young upstarts and disgraced retirees. But Dino needed a specific brand of person.

He didn’t have the money to pay them lavishly, nor buy their silence, so he needed someone low budget, low maintenance. Young, maybe. Inexperienced and unaware of their worth. Skilled enough to handle a horse of Cavallone’s breeding. Loyalty easily fostered. They couldn’t ask questions. And they couldn’t be Mafia.

One jockey per horse.

The Stable Master had given him seven horses to work with, Madam Celeste, Buttercup Pop, Today Junior, Red Riding, Bottle Top, the best of the Cavallone’s renowned Snortle line and, of course, Glory herself.

One jockey per horse. Dino needed to find at least seven jockeys. And then he had to pray that the horses accepted their riders.

Dino grimaced at the concept of trying to introduce a jockey to Glory. He made a note to have a medic on scene.

Dino sighed and dropped his head onto the dining table, articles and handwritten notes of half thoughts stacked high enough to cushion his dismay. Dino was tired.

Enzo bit his little toe through his sock. Dino screeched. He shot up with a gasp — he saw Vic pressed against the window.

“Show me the boy.”

Dino screeched. He fell off his chair into the sweet embrace of his cold, tile floor.

“Careful! You could have hurt Enzo!” Vic scolded as she banged on the window.

Dino gaped at her from the floor, offended.

“What!? No sympathy for Dino!?”

“Shut up and let me in! I’m freezing my tits off!”

Dino resisted rolling his eyes as he heaved himself up off the ground. It was only 17 degrees, barely coat weather, but Vic was whining like she was up on Etna. Dino opened his door and Vic came barreling past, honed on his couch.

Dino laughed when he saw the mass of blankets on the couch, each one brought by Vic every time she couldn’t resist the knick-knackery of Kmart. Two grumpy eyes peered out, and the tell-tale sound of Enzo’s disgruntled wheeze.

“You’re back?” Dino smiled as he came and sat by Vic’s head, those eyes glaring up at him.

“Nah, I’m astral projecting — yes I’m back!” Vic huffed and Dino grinned.

He leant over and threw his arms around the mass that was Vic bundled within her blankets, squeezing tight even when the girl gave a wheeze. One of Vic’s hands wriggled its way out of the hold and gently patted Dino’s shoulder with an obligatory “there, there.”

“You were away for so long,” Dino grumbled.

Vic huffed, “I was gone for three weeks.”

“Three weeks much too long!” He whined and Vic let out a laugh that jostled both of them.

Dino let out an indignant sound as he slumped into Vic and felt the twang in his back and the ache in his eyes. He had been looking at documents for so long, done so much close-up work, that he could barely make out the clock face on the wall.

“You look like shit,” Vic grumbled from within her blanket mount.

Dino smiled weakly and rubbed his nape. He felt like shit too. A bit sweaty. Cooped up.

But he had work to do. So many relied on this one last gamble.

Dino tried not to let the stress show. That stone in his stomach and pressure in his chest.

Vic stared at him.

“Dino?” She asked and sat up, Enzo slid down a blanket and tottered off into the distance. “Dino?”

‘What’s wrong?’ she wanted to ask, but as Vic looked at Dino, she couldn’t quite get the words out. Because she could see that whatever was festering under his skin, was far too large to unpack. It had too many layers. One lone issue didn’t make someone’s face that dark and pale.

“Do you…Do you want to call home? I can give you some space?” Vic offered gently. “Call your dad or something?”

Dino flinched. Hard.

Vic snapped her mouth shut.

Then her mind swarmed with memory, scanning every instance she had with Dino, every mention of his family, every giggle of his past. Not once had Dino mentioned his father. Or his mother.

Fuck. Vic had fucked up.

“Or—” she scrambled, nearly biting her tongue in the rush.

“He is, uh…passed,” Dino said, barely above a whisper.

Vic paused. She pulled the blankets around her tighter.

“Oh,” she uttered.

“Last February,” he continued, his hands plucked at the edge of the blanket, pulling the loose tassels. “He got hurt. He didn’t get better.”

“Oh,” Vic whispered. That was recent. “You’re…mum?”

She looked at him carefully. Dino’s nose had started to blush, his fingers worked to untangle stylised knots in the blanket. His voice croaked.

“I was seven,” Dino whispered, and that was all Vic needed to know.

“Dino,” Vic murmured, and Dino shrugged.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“Dino, your dad was last year,” Vic said, not at all convinced. Maybe Dino had come to peace with his mother’s passing, but his fathers? She didn’t think he was ‘okay’ as he said he was.

“I am busy. There’s much to do. The Family needs me now that I am in charge.”

Vic held her breath for a moment until she was sure she could let it out without a sound. Her Dino was in charge? Of a whole family? Her Dino, who choked on rice, who cut his lip on his toothbrush, who tripped on shoelaces. Had been put in charge of a whole family — an extensive one if ‘induction’ meant anything (not a cult, totally not a cult unless it is).

“When did you take over?” Vic asked and closed her eyes, bracing for the worst.

“...Last February,” Dino uttered.

He had taken the reigns out of cold hands. No time to mourn.

Vic felt her heart lurch in her chest, and a rumble in her ears. Anger and indignity yanked at her naval as she looked at the papers on the dining table, laptop open, fan spinning fast to cool down after days of almost non-stop use. Her Dino was doing all this. Practically alone, so far from home. And he hadn’t even had the time to properly mourn.

Vic turned her gaze onto Dino.

“Last February,” she echoed out to him. “Fifteen months.”

Dino smiled at Vic, full of teeth and wrinkled eyes. Eyes that started to swim as she stared at him. Brown eyes going blurry until one, then two, fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Dino sniffed, loud and full of snot.

Vic pulled her feet up onto the couch, leant back against the armrest and opened her arms to Dino. Dino’s face pinched, his breath shook, and slowly, Dino crawled until he laid himself on her chest.

Vic lifted her chin to breathe around his hair and felt her shirt go soggy as Dino hiccuped and rattled.

Vic liked to think she knew Dino well. At times like this, though, Vic was reminded that she knew very little.

Dino’s dad had died last year. His mother, long before that. And now he was here, alone, the rest of his family in another hemisphere. And there was that whole issue of finances that she knew she wouldn’t ever fully understand the gravity of.

Arms wriggled under her back and Vic felt Dino clutch at her like a lifeline, his watch dug into her ribs and she felt snot, spit and tears smear along her collar.

“I miss him,” Dino wheezed. “I don’t want to be the Boss yet. There’s so much I could do wrong.”

Vic gritted her teeth and pulled the blankets over Dino, the weight pressing down on his back. She looked at the list sitting on Dino’s dining table. A criterion for employment. A jockey selection.

Dino needed jockeys. At least seven.

Vic scanned the criteria, doing her damnedest to burn every detail and refinement into her memory. Cheap, talented, foolish. She felt her stomach roll with heat and discomfort.

Someone to be taken advantage of.

Dino coughed between quiet sobs. His nails dug into her shirt, just short of her skin. Vic pushed her cheek into his hair and squeezed him back, just as tight.

Dino needed jockeys.

“It’ll be okay, Dino,” Vic murmured.

Dino needed jockeys. Dino needed help.

She couldn’t do much, had no idea where to even start. But she could at least look. For her ponyboy Dino.

#fanfiction #khr #leftnotright #ao3 #dino cavallone #katekyo hitman reborn #canon divergence

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unluckyservice4 · 1 month

Note

1776 New York City part of me are you ember sir at the pen who’s asking oh sure, sir I’m Alex Alexander Hamilton, and met your service sir I have been looking for you. I’m getting nervous, sir. I heard your name at Prince and I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of with the body of yours, I may have punched him. It’s a blur, sir. He handles the financials you punched the bursar. Yes, I wanna do what you did graduate into enjoying the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid I’m not stupid, so I had to graduate so fast it was my parents dying wish before they passed you’re orphan of course I’m an orphan God I wish there was a war we could prove were worth more than anyone bargain for. Can I buy you a drink that would be nice. Let me talk while we’re talking. Let me offer you some free advice talk less what smile more ha do whatever it takes to get your plan on the Congress floor. You can’t be serious. You wanna get ahead yes fools who run there. their mouse of wind up then yeah yeah yeah yeah yo yo what time is it showtime like I said showtime Showtime yo I’m John Lawrence and the place to be 2 pints of Shannon Sam Adams, but I’m working on three. Those red coats don’t want it with me because I’m about to cut that something time free and we we on the Lafayette. A lot of the revolution set. I came from afar just say Bonsoir to the king Casa, who’s the best I am Hercules Mulligan up and loving it. I heard your mother say come again look up your daughters horses, of course hard intercourse of course it’s no more sex for me another and this means more to the revolution in the prodigy Princeton College give us a knowledge you’re taking the sand you spit on the land the revolutions what do you for if you stand for nothing why do you fall for? Who are you? Who are you? Who are you? Who who is this kid? Will you gonna do.

..................................The fuck...?

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shady-tavern · 8 months

Text

Preview for "Heart Song"

Anyone remember this poll? After a thousand years I finally finished the story, it just needs a bit of editing and polishing. The full version will be up this Sunday, so until then, have this preview!

*.*.*

Your parents had thankfully been the sensible ones and had cautioned you against accepting just any hero gig, any contract that was extended to you. You had been so excited you had nearly accepted the first offer without question.

Right up until Redemption & Recovery had reached out to you. They had been a comparatively tiny organization back then, doing their best to help others with the funding they got. Almost all members were volunteers and the contract they had extended had, admittedly, looked pitiful compared to the promised salary of the big hero offices.

In the years that had followed, you had made quite the name for yourself and the organization, which had grown in members and funding until it was one of the biggest. You were so proud of everyone and their hard work.

You still didn't have much of a salary compared to other famous heroes, but that worked just fine for you. You rather donated as much as you could feasibly give to R&R, to help finance the services they offered, the therapists and doctors they had on the payroll, as well as housing aid and financial advisors and lawyers to help people get back on their feet.

Besides, you were perhaps a bit...unique, among the heroes. The big offices would probably find working with you rather headache inducing.

You raced around a corner, heart in your throat at the sound of hurt-terror-helplessness that filled the air ahead of you as thickly as the dust and smoke from a collapsed building that had yet to settle. You leapt over rubble and debris, your breath catching when you heard another bit of building crumble somewhere to the left.

And among the injured civilians, the panicked people, one melody rang louder than the others. Loud enough to drench everything in agony-hatred-despair like a wailing siren.

Even now he had been lucky that people had gotten out of the building in time before it had started to collapse.

Eclipse's focused face turned into a mask of fear the moment he noticed you from the corner of his eye, head snapping around to stare at you.

But you were close enough now. You closed your eyes for a moment, senses honing in on his heart song and you took a deep breath and began to sing. You answered the anguished melody of his heart, desperate and with a hurt so deep it had stained every part of his life for far, far too long.

You were only peripherally aware of all the ammunition clattering to the ground, steel beams scraping to a stop, glass grinding into shards so fine they briefly resembled glittering snow.

The two heroes backed up, relief making their songs brighter as they turned to rush to the aid of the injured civilians, among them two officers who had gotten pinned by fallen concrete.

Eclipse collapsed to his knees, a keening noise escaping him, wounded and terrified and he burst into tears. His heart song was nothing but pain and hurt that was finally set free for the first time, like a wound that had needed to be drained of infection. Painful but necessary.

You hurried towards Eclipse as he helplessly sobbed in a way that reminded you of a child that had been abandoned by everyone, confused and terrified and so terribly alone.

Cutting songs short hurt and the rest of the melody still stuck within you started to claw at your lungs, demanding to be released. To be completed.

One thing however, became clear within even that short exchange of blows: He was willing to hit a lot harder than you.

You hated fighting. You loathed being the reason heart songs changed for the worse.

Hurting others was the ugliest song you knew and it made something in your very teeth ache like biting onto a bar of icy metal after drinking hot tea.

You managed to hold your ground, always peripherally aware of Eclipse who was gasping sobs into his hands and the unfinished song scraping your ribs raw, right up until another villain joined the fray. She appeared so quickly you had no chance to react in time, not with Vision viciously on the attack.

Vision already had you fully occupied and you had no chance to dodge, never mind counterattack.

From the corner of your eye you saw the sweep of a night-black cape and a night-black gauntlet came up to parry Silver's blow, as Areth appeared at your back out of nowhere.

"Yo," Areth said with a sharp grin, a mask covering the upper half of her face.

"Lo," her twin Sorrel answered as he leapt out of her shadow and at Silver, tumbling her to the ground with a snarl.

It left his flank wide open and her kick landed solidly, throwing him off his feet and he tumbled into the dirt and rubble as Areth took up position at your side. "You good, little Cloud?"

The twins had nicknamed you Cloud since they thought you lived with your head in the clouds, always listening to things no one else could hear, humming and smiling or frowning at nothing.

She seemed to move too fast for him to reliably predict where she was going to end up next. Which didn't mean that she had an easy time against him, but she at least was one of two people in the city capable of even landing a hit on him.

You had just barely finished the song, Eclipse's sobs slowly petering out as he sat sagged on the ground, utterly exhausted, when Areth appeared at your side, grabbing you. Sorrel slipped into her shadow and then you were gone. For just a split second, your world was...quiet. Quiet in a way it never was.

"Thanks," you said. "For helping me."

The teleported away and not a moment too late. Rescue heavily impacted where Areth had stood, having leapt from who-knew-where, straightening on powerful legs. Rescue was a grizzled, old hero, one of the oldest and she rarely left her office these days, preferring to guide and teach the younger generation.

That she was here meant that Timeless' dome needed to go down stat.

Rescue tipped her head politely at you. "Anything you can tell me?" she asked, voice rumbling. "I saw the mess from my window and I'm sick and tired of meetings."

You hurried forward too, lingering near the shimmering glass-like dome until it shattered apart and then you were dashing forward. You could sing if there was no specific heart song to focus on, but those songs tended to have more of an area effect and they were a little softer and gentler. They were also more than enough to soothe and calm the civilians and ease the tension of the newbies.

"No one's left," Rescue muttered. "Fucking villains, they've been getting really damn bold lately."

"Do you know why?" you asked her. Rescue was pretty knowledgeable, there had been a few instances over the years where she had given you pretty damn useful advice.

With a quick salute, she was gone and you frowned at your surroundings. The villain activity was bothering you quite a bit if you were being honest.

Usually, a new arrival made waves on both sides for a bit, a new villain or new hero upsetting the previous balance. It was like integrating a new instrument to an orchester that hadn't expected any arrivals in the middle of a play and now they had to improvise quickly on the spot.

But this, this was different. Whatever was going that had villains uniting who usually didn't work with each other, it had them antsy and downright worried.

Only villains were antsy and worried. This upset among the villains was not reflected among the heroes, which meant...

Before you knew it, you had nearly twenty villains who had recently been seen either on downright friendly terms or actively helping each other. Picking up your phone, you started to make calls, hoping to get a foot in the door before whatever was going on would come crashing down.

Only...for the first time, you got no answers.

You sat awake for hours, searching through the internet and online newspapers. You scrounged through the cesspit of social media, trying to find the red string that eluded you.

*.*.*

Full version will be up on Sunday! Let me know if you want to join the tag list!

#my writing #preview #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero x villain #you MIGHT need tissues #no warnings in this one actually I think #apologies for the long wait #real life responsibilities had me in a chokehold #and this one needed some serious rewriting #there are so many discarded pages for this short story #also warning #this will be a long one

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