#ch: i rebel

[daxromana]

I think one of the things people miss about Jyn is that she was literally raised in the anti-imperial rebellion, as part of Saw’s rebel faction. (Maybe not as part of the Alliance technically but definitely as a rebel.) She’s Like I think she’s incredibly jaded in ways that foil Cassian quite nicely.

Cassian says that some people don’t have the luxury of deciding not to care, but Jyn also didn’t have that luxury. She was in hiding from the Empire for years as a child, then they took her parents away and killed her mother in front of her, and then she was raised by a charismatic rebel leader who slowly spiraled further and further into paranoia.* A lot of people take Cassian at his word but Cassian doesn’t know Jyn’s history or decision making process anymore than the audience does.

And this isn’t to let Jyn morally off the hook. Like obviously “keeping your head down when you can do something positive is bad” is the message of the movie and also one of the messages of Star Wars more generally. But Jyn’s relationship to the Rebellion and the Empire is a lot more complicated than I’ve seen people describing it as.

(*I’m ignoring a lot of Saw’s appearances outside of RO bc I think they’re unfair to the character and also bad.)

[clonehub]

i always bounce between the OT and the PT being my faves because there's a certain sauce that OT stories have that really puts them above everything else EXCEPT the PT, with its super colorful and layered worldbuilding and the endless possibilities re: interactions and moral dilemmas.

[rebel-ahsoka]

STAR WARS REBELS 2.22, Twilight of the Apprentice

[spinninglightning]

whenever i read fics i always end up thinkin of a song for the fic or like, th chapter and then i canr stop associating the fic w/ those songs

[samgelina-jolie]

robin & nancy for the ship bingo?

in my mind they've been cannon since the Pennhurst episode in my heart theyve been cannon since before s1 <3

[ustalav]

to add to gideon he was nepo babied into a junior enchanter at like 21. he was senior enchanter lydia's class pet, originally bc she is a spirit healer and was drawn to the story of him discovering magic through healing which can be difficult to grasp magic. except then gideon is actually not that good at healing but he is really good with the young apprentices and at teaching fundamentals

so he ends up becoming a mentor to the young apprentices and he v much relates to them adjusting to circle life bc it was a hard time in his life as well

[pinkfey]

every time i make a new star wars oc it’s because i know this universe needs more homos 🙏

[shadowglens]

i’m toying with the idea of the cult dane was raised in being based on malachor

[mothiir]

penance

the black templars discover human women. Nothing nsfw, only vaguely lewd, with canon typical violence and religious themes. Possibly will follow up with a smut if the spirit moves me

alternative summary: where is this strumpet so I might detest her with my own eyes

—

—

Isaiah takes his helm off to inhale the sweet scent of battlefield smoke. The sky is ruddy with dawn, and the last of the heretic cities is nothing more than smouldering rubble, the would-be rebels against the Emperor’s Will either dead or soon to be. Those too young, or too elderly, to have served a meaningful part in the uprising may yet find redemption as Chapter serfs or servitors — after all, there is little point to justice if there is no mercy to go alongside it. 

Sweat gilds his high cheekbones, and drips down his nape. Taking a moment away from his brothers to say his private prayer of thanks to the Emperor is one of the small ways Isaiah keeps his sanity during these long campaigns. He would fight and die beside his brethren with pride — and yet if he has to hear one more of Reuben’s jokes, he may consider —

No. No, none of that, not even in the privacy of his own head: he must be grateful, always. Mindful and grateful of the Emperor’s blessings. Reuben is a blessing. A hardship, yes, but so often blessings take the form of hardships; of lessons to learn. Reuben is an excellent soldier, and an exercise in patience. 

Perhaps it is the thought of Reuben’s damned puns that drives him further than usual, or the desire to admire the sight of a battle hard-fought. Either way, Isaiah ends up a good five hundred feet from camp before he quite realises it, crunching over charred bones and burned, unrecognisable standards.

Then: a sound. Thin, high, and vaguely organic. At once, he replaces his helmet, Captain Ezra’s words echoing in his memory: boy, there is no point prancing around like the main character in a holo — the enemy does not need to see your pretty face, and nor do I.

Anyway. The noise. His scanners alert him to a life form, hidden behind a pile of corpses. Humanoid. Rabbit-hearted, and trying very hard to remain unseen. 

He upholsters his bolter, and stalks forwards: a faceless, merciless instrument of the Emperor’s wrath. 

—

The clouds hang thick and red, like they have absorbed all the blood spilt today, and the heat is oppressive. A thunderstorm is coming; you taste it in the air. Soon, the rain will extinguish the last of the flaming rubble on this planet you once called home. It will fill the empty eye sockets of those who died for the delusions of your rulers. It will wash the land clean. 

And you doubt you will see it. 

As the Templar yanked you from the rubble, your shoulder had popped from its socket with a sick, wet crack; you had only kept yourself from crying out by biting into your tongue. Now your right arm hangs useless by your side, radiating bright veins of sheer agony. You daren’t make a move to cradle it, to ease your discomfort. 

“Your world is guilty of the crime of sedition,” intones the Templar, his voice as final as a tombstone falling into place. “Your leaders rebelled against the Divinity of the Emperor, and —“

”And I should die for it,” you manage, through lips gummed together with dried saliva and ash. “Because we let it happen.”

He pauses. The subtle tilt of his helm could be curiousity; could be an invitation to continue; could be nothing at all. But you are not dead. Not yet. Something in your chest is kindled, and you remember when you were little, at a school now nothing but ash, how your teacher would complain: that girl, she always has something to say.   

“We let it happen,” you continue, not sure if you are arguing for your life or begging for martyrdom. “We saw the upper echelons turn to Ch — the accursed powers.” Thou shalt not speak the name of the beast, you remember reading somewhere, lest thou invite it in to feast. “And we did not stop them. We worked away, heads bent and faces averted, and we obeyed orders, and the rot spread and ruined our world. I — I thank you, for your cleansing fire, for your — for His mercy. For bringing the Light of the Emperor to this place.”

You cannot curtesy, not in this shape, and so you drop straight to the ground, knees smacking into hard stone. You bare your nape, awaiting judgement, awaiting the blade, your heart singing against your ribs, that desperate song, that too-late plea: oh I want to live. Emperor above, let me live. 

—

“That is a woman,” says Reuben, like he has never seen one before. 

”Yes, Reuben, that is a woman.”

“In our dormitory.”

”Yes,” Isaiah says. ”She is in our dormitory.”

As this world lacks any proper infrastructure — due to the intensive bombing campaign needed to bring it back to the Emperor’s Grace — the Astartes have retired to their battle barge, as Marshal Ezra Rothenberg plans their next movements. 

Isaiah is honoured to consider himself part of the Edessan Crusade. There are more than two thousand of his brothers dedicated to the continued extirpation of Chaos from the Edessan system: a task that was predicted to take ten solar years, and yet is proceeding far ahead of schedule — due, in no small part, to the enthusiastic participation of the new recruits Guilliman so kindly provided them. If Guilliman hoped that the Primaris Marines would take the edge off the Black Templar’s well-known zealotry, he was swiftly disappointed. Within a few days of arriving, the only way to differentiate between the new recruits and their more seasoned brothers was size. 

Isaiah shares a barren dorm with Reuben, and three other brothers. They sleep on plain metal bunks, with a rough woollen blanket and a thin pillow. Other Chapters, Isiaiah has heard, are so decadent and spoiled as to have duvets — which are sacks of feathers — and sometimes even something called a mattress? Absurd. He pities his fellow Primaris Marines, shipped out to such degeneracy. He hopes that they can cultivate an appropriate sense of duty and decorum in the older generation. How can anyone value such petty things as comfort when the Emperor’s enemies still draw breath?

You are sitting on Isaiah’s bed, the blanket around your shoulders, your eyes wide. You have not spoken since he brought you here — barely whimpered when he popped your shoulder back into place. 

“…what is her purpose here?” Reuben says. He sits on his own bunk, opposite Isaiah, his afternoon reading (a hagiography of one of the more exciting saints) sprawled forgotten on his lap. 

“Chapter serf,” says Isaiah. 

“Do we need more serfs?”

”Yes. We do. The ones we have are — uh —very devout — “

The pair grimace. The fact that the serfs spend so long in prayer is to be admired, but it doesn’t often leave them much time to perform their duties. Isaiah is sick of doing his own mending because Serf Osric and Serf Jean are once more faint from fasting and all-night vigils to the glory of the Emperor. 

“Did the Marshal allocate her to you?”

Isaiah pulls an interesting series of expressions. ”Not…exactly,” he allows, unwilling to lie, and yet not wanting to admit the truth. “But he has been…busy, of late.”

”Yes. Busy. With crusading against the Emperor’s enemies.”

”Too busy to be concerned with this sort of thing,” Isaiah says, hesitantly, dangling the bait before Reuben, waiting for him to take it. Reuben leans forwards to better observe you. Isaiah feels a strange twist of pride when you don’t cringe from his regard, but meet his dark eyes with your own, your chin tipped up, your fingers curling into the blanket. Then you suddenly seem to remember who you are, and where you are, and drop your head in supplication. 

“Yes,” Reuben says, slowly. “Far too busy to be concerned with this. Don’t want to bother him.”

Isaiah utters a fervent prayer of thanks to the Emperor, feeling only a little guilty at thanking Him for his brother’s aid in deceiving their Marshal. But it wasn’t really deception, was it? They weren’t lying to him at all — they just weren’t telling him! Completely different. 

“Exactly! It’s beneath his concern.”

”She’s beneath his concern!”

In total accord, both Templars grin at each other, before hurriedly smoothing their faces into expressions of solemn piety. 

“Yes, brother. I am glad that the Emperor has seen fit to deliver unto us a — hang on, can you sew?” Reuben says, addressing you directly. You glance up at Isaiah, then stammer:

“Y-yes my lord —“

“Excellent.”

Reuben kicks up and off his bunk, rummages in the steel box that contains all his worldly possessions, then throws a wad of fabric at you. It unfurls into a dozen pairs of socks that look very much worse for wear.

“Start with those. Then my tunic needs restitching — the Emperor’s Most Holy Iconography is starting to get a bit tattered. Then —“

”Brother Reuben, you cannot hog the new serf —“

”I am offering her the chance to redeem the sins of her forefathers and mothers with holy labour.“

“Well, yes,” Isaiah protests. “But the holy labour cannot just be confined to your menial tasks—“

”Why — do you have menial tasks that need attending to?”

”Yes!” Isaiah says, thinking of his own increasing pile of ragged undergarments. “You can mend Brother Reuben’s socks, and then you must attend to my laundry —“

”And then she can mend my tunic —“

”No, then she must pray,” Isaiah says, belatedly remembering the importance of even the most lowly baselines in adding their voices to the Emperor’s endless praises. “And attend chapel —“

”Where Marshal Ezra may behold her?” Brother Reuben says. “The serf that we do not strictly speaking have, as she has not been allocated to us?”

Ah. Yes. He had forgotten about that.

”She must pray while she works,” Isiaih amends. “And abase herself before the Emperor’s mercy.”

”Yes. But pray quietly.”

”Do you know the appropriate psalms to recite while conducting your redemptive labour?” Isaiah says. You chew your lip.

“The correct litanies while uh…mending the socks of the Emperor’s chosen may have not been included in my education,” you say. Isaiah sighs. Truly, you came from a blighted world. 

“You will learn them,” he says. “The Emperor will guide your tongue. If you fail to learn them then it is a sign that you have not received His Grace, and in that case fear not — we will deliver unto you the Emperor’s Mercy.”

“She will learn them,” Brother Reuben says, with a fervent and touching belief in humanity’s dedication to the Emperor.

 Or, perhaps, a fervent desire to have socks without holes in them. 

—

And so it goes. The Emperor sees fit to decree that the brothers that share Reuben and Isaiah’s quarters remain on the planet to build a chapter monastery there, taking advantage of the natural resources that are now free for use. No new brothers are installed in the dormitory — a great shame, of course, but it does have the benefit of ensuring that Brother Reuben and Isiaiah do not have to face awkward questions about your presence. 

Isiaiah has never been in close contact with baseline humans before, save the serfs aboard the fleet, and he knows that it is his duty to ensure that you are free of Chaos’s taint, and suitably devoted to the God Emperor. As such, he ensures that you have the appropriate reading material, and tests you to ensure that you can recite the benedictions. The first time you stumbled over an incorrect word, he had sighed deeply and sorrowfully, reaching for his bolter. Brother Reuben had dragged him to the side and explained — in hurried whispers — that humans do not have the same eidetic memory as Astartes, and the misstep was not indicative of a lapse in faith but simply a sign of your humanity. 

Fascinating. 

There are other baseline issues that surprise both brothers. They sleep perfectly well on their hard metal bed frames, and their serfs often deliberately braid thistles into their blankets in order to better scourge their flesh for the sin of being mortal. You, however, suffer greatly for the first few days. You end up with deep purple shadows beneath your eyes, and you wince when performing even the simplest of tasks. 

“I am sorry my lords,” you stammer, when Isaiah confronts you on your constant yawning. “It is just — I am cursed to be a woman, and thus I do not have the fortitude that you have, and my body is frail and weak and cannot find rest in the blessed conditions that you enjoy.”

Reuben magnanimously permits you the use of a blanket and two of the pillows left by his brothers. Isaiah thinks that pandering to your body’s frailty could well be slowing your path to redemption, but he bows to his brother’s greater knowledge. 

He is perturbed by how much you rest — as much as six hours a night, if you are permitted to sleep continuously. Once again, Reuben explains that this is normal for the baselines. Besides, if Isaiah wants devout serfs, he is more than welcome to once more entrust his care to Osric and Jean. 

Isaiah stops questioning your rest hours swiftly. He does not want to go back to the days of having to convince a flagellant to polish his pauldrons. Without the brothers seeking them out, the old serfs seem happy to spend most of their time in the chapel, or wandering the halls while caning themselves and loudly declaring the Emperor’s benevolence to all. 

Yes, Isaiah wants to say, we know He is very benevolent and very merciful. He also wants you to do your damn jobs. 

The first real challenge occurs ten days into your time aboard the barge. You drop to your knees before Isaiah, assuming the penitential crouch you always take on when you address either of them. The sight of you prostrate at his feet — spine a neat curve, head bowed, hands clasped — always makes Isaiah’s stomach warm and twist. He enjoys seeing you so keen to atone, so eager to please the Emperor, and to receive  His mercy. 

“My lords, I humbly beg your permission to take a moment to clean myself — I have not managed to do so since leaving my accursed planet, and I fear that I dishonour your presence by performing my duties while unwashed.”

”You have washed yourself,” Isaiah says, frowning. He’s seen you wipe your face and underarms with a wet rag, and you wash your hands every time you go to the bathroom (a sensitive experience for all concerned, given that one of them has to escort you to the nearest convenience, and the other has to stand watch to ensure no one sees you).

”Yes, but — a shower, my lords, that is what I am asking for.”

Isaiah sniffs the air thoughtfully. True, you do smell a little sourer than you did previously, but he has lived with far more odiferous people; Brother Reuben during his ‘bathing too frequently is decadent and an offence to the Emperor’ phase for one.

(That particular penitence had been ended when Marshal Ezra had thrown Reuben bodily into the icy plunge pool and announced to all that the Emperor suffered enough on His golden throne — the Templars did not need to add their stench to the tribulations He endured.)

”Humans require more maintenance than Astartes,” Reuben allows. “It cannot hurt to permit her to bathe.”

Still, they do not want to risk taking you to one of the communal showers, nor do they want to send you off to the serf quarters. Several of their brothers are already suspicious of their suddenly-improved attire, and the last thing either of them want is to face questions about your presence — or, worse still, a request to share. So Isaiah fetches a large copper tub used by the medicae for those too unwell to stand upright to bathe, and fills it with water, and Brother Reuben donates one of his scraps of yellow soap. 

“Th-thank you my lords,” you say, from your usual prostrate position; then you stand, a little unsure, eyeing them almost expectantly. The tub is set in the middle of the dormitory; Reuben is reading one of his favourite scriptures, while Isiaiah tends to his bolter. ”Uh — is it okay if I —“

You gesture at your smock. Isiaiah blinks at you. 

“Are you asking permission to bathe? I have said that you may — do not waste my time with needless questions.”

He turns back to his bolter, wiping the sacred oils onto the stock, murmuring the appropriate incantations to appease the machine spirit within. A flurry of fabric; a splash; a pained squeal. 

“This water is ice,” you yell, and Isaiah, startled, looks up. 

His hand remains looped around the bolter, polishing up and down, up and down — but he finds he cannot tear his gaze from you. The water comes up to your waist, but the rest of you is bare, your flesh goosepimpled from the cold, your arms clutching your torso. Your elbows press under your breasts, pushing them up, where they glisten under the harsh dorm lighting. As you shiver, one nipple flashes.

Brother Reuben stares as well. 

“Emperor preserve me,” he mutters, and Isaiah comes to his senses, turning his eyes aside. 

“Woman!” he says, sounding only a little strangled. “Cover yourself!”

Another splash. When Isaiah peeks up — just to check that you have ceased to offend the Emperor with your naked bosom — he is gratified to see that you are neck deep in water.

”S-sorry my lords,” you say, teeth chattering.

”You are a Chapter Serf of the Black Templars,” Isiaha says hotly, his grasp tightening on the bolter, his strokes growing surer and stronger, seeking solace in the familiar rhythm. “You must act in a way that is fitting for your station! Do not flaunt yourself so! You must conduct yourself with - with decorum, and modesty. Be demure! Mindful!”

Isaiah, a little breathless after his holy vitriol, looks to Brother Reuben for moral support. Reuben is looking fixedly at his book. 

“I saw nothing,” says the other Templar. “I am blind to that which does not beatify the Emperor Himself. The nudity of a serf has no bearing on my day’s prayer. It is as insignificant as the passage of a beetle along the floor.”

”Is that why you are reading your scripture upside down?”

Reuben does not look up, even as he turns the book the right way around. 

“Brother Isaiah, if you polish that gun any harder it is liable to blast a hole in the wall.”

”It is not loaded, Brother Reuben,” Isaiah snaps. “I am conducting my daily worship to the Machine Spirit.”

”Is that what you call it?” Reuben mutters, and Isaiah elects to ignore him. 

—

“Where did you obtain the uniform for her?” Isaiah says, the next day, his voice hushed. It is just after morning prayer-drills, and the pair are walking back to their dormitory to change, before their lunchtime prayer-drills.

”I — just from the other serf’s laundry,” says Reuben, casting a quick look around. The halls of the battle barge are more akin to that of a cathedral than a space-ship, with huge domed ceilings, and statues placed at regular intervals in well-lit alcoves. Isaiah normally takes great comfort in the stern regard of his immortalised forebears, but for some reason today he feels their gaze like a brand, like he is a neophyte and they are watching him commit some secret and terrible sin. 

“They do not fit her,” Isaiah says. Reuben frowns. 

“What do you mean?”

”I mean — “ Isaiah pauses for a moment, struggling to find the words. Emperor grant him Reuben’s lack of observational skills — truly, his brother is a sterling example of blind faith. “I mean…this morning. When she bent over to pick up the scripture. Her skirt. It — moved in a way that displayed her rump in a way that is most unbecoming to a serf.”

Reuben exhales, his jaw ticking minutely. “Oh? I did not notice. I do not make a habit of looking at the serf’s rear end.”

”I was not looking at her rear end!” Isaiah whisper-shouts. “It was…just there. Wiggling.”

”Wiggling?”

”Yes, wiggling.”

”Is our serf distracting you from your duties, Brother Isaiah?” Reuben says, in a tone of concern so genuine it feels like mockery. 

“No! I just — it would bring shame upon our crusade if our serfs are not modestly attired.”

”I quite agree. However, I would argue that our serf is very well attired. Covered up almost to the throat.”

”Almost,” Isaiah says. “When she bends over to wash her face in the morning, if you stand at the incorrect place in the dormitory, and you have the misfortune to be looking for a book on the other side of the room, and then you find yourself looking downwards at the incorrect moment so you may observe the flagstones, you will be cursed with a view straight down her sleeping smock — and you will see both her breasts, exposed quite fully! It is revolting. A blight upon the Emperor.”

”How hideous! We must of course remedy this at once.”

”At once.”

”However,” says Reuben, as they round a corner, approaching their dormitory. “In order for me to avoid benighting mine eyes with such a distasteful view, I would much appreciate it if next time the serf washes her face you were to demonstrate the precise angle that I should avoid standing at. For I only wish to see what is pure and just in the eyes of the Emperor, and in order to do so we must have a full understanding of where to avoid looking.”

Isaiah pauses for a moment. After all, is it not his duty to guide his brothers when they seek to avoid sin? “Yes,” he says. “I will ensure that I show you most where you must not stand, and where to avoid casting your eyes. And — if I may make a suggestion?”

”Of course, brother Isaiah.”

”Perhaps it is not the uniform. Perhaps it is the way the serf has learned to stand and bend. Coming as she does from such a depraved world, riddled with heresy, it is natural that she does not know the right and proper way for a servant of the Emperor to move. Perhaps we should ask her to bend over a few times for us, and thus we can best advise her on how to avoid unnecessary…wiggling.”

Reuben grins at the thought of guiding a sinner onto the path of the righteous. “Yes, brother Isaiah. I do believe we should.”

[tanzakukun]

Yoojin’s built is scrawny. He doesn’t have a degree. He’s an F-class and a support at that. He wants to be the protagonist, because then, he would be strong. And he would be so strong he can protect everyone and no one else has to suffer but him. Most importantly, as the protagonist, he would always be needed by others.

But he wasn’t made to be in that spotlight. He sees Sung Hyunje, handsome, powerful, experienced, mature and skilled in everything he puts his mind into. Everyone is naturally drawn to him. Everyone finds Sung Hyunje useful. Sung Hyunje will always be needed by others, and he will always appear impeccable while at it.

But the picture-perfect protagonist is tired of the genre he was nurtured by his transcendent step mom god to fit into. He doesn’t want to be a puppet of someone else’s will, of a world and society accepting him only for the roles they have for me. The protagonist is a free spirit who has been killed by being turned into someone who can move others but cannot be moved by the very people who he’s been destined to protect.

The closest to Sung Hyunje’s existence is Han Yoohyun, an incarnate of fire forced to live in the shell of human. Yoohyun is driven by his instinct, no different than Hyunje being controlled by his destiny. In another story, they would have been each other’s nemesis. The protagonist who watches over others because he was chosen by a higher power to do so, and the villain whose nature is to destroy and burn all creations down until his life sizzles out. But the villain doesn’t. He fights his nature. He willingly puts himself through the suffering of rejecting his instincts to stay close to a scrawny F-Class without any notable achievements.

Yoojin loves the attention Hyunje gives him and is taken aback when the ahjussi protagonist isn’t the benevolent protector he was shaped to be. When Hyunje, who was made exactly as the protagonist Yoojin imagined, rebels by craving to be an individual of his own choices. He’s whimsical. He gets bored easily. He peels the crusts off his bread. He’s never had anyone sing him “Happy Birthday.”

Yoojin makes fun of him, and Hyunje goes, “lol fair”. Yoojin sees holes in the protagonist, and he’s thrilled by how he can put down someone whose very role he wants to be. He’s envious of Hyunje. He wished he was Sung Hyunje. Resentment doesn’t grow. Instead, there’s only Yoojin’s self-hatred being fueled by seeing on Hyunje, who has everything, how Yoojin is sorely lacking.

He doesn’t put himself against Hyunje, only against himself. Yoojin is his own worst enemy. When he relishes in criticizing Hyunje, it’s soothing his own ego being constantly bruised by his ideals.

“You’re exactly who I wish I was. But I see you’re not perfect either, which also makes me feel good because it means that maybe, I don’t have to be so hard on myself. If Sung Hyunje, the protagonist, isn’t all that in reality, then my unreachable expectations of myself seems rather foolish now.”

Hyunje makes Yoojin feels more at peace with himself this way. And when Yoojin pities Hyunje for the small wonders of life he’s not known, it’s an act once more that soothes Yoojin’s own ego. The understanding and humanity Yoojin directs to Hyunje are - subconciously - also acts of kindness toward himself.

And we all know how Yoojin is exceptionally struggling with self-love.

Hyunje picks up on the bits and pieces of the person known as Han Yoojin. He is a complicated soul who deserves love and care. He is an ordinary person who is seeking a way to be happy, just like Hyunje. Hyunje, who had always put himself first, having lived lives chained to someone else’s desire, chooses Yoojin’s happiness over his own. This isn’t a form a sacrifice. It doesn’t go against Hyunje’s personality. Hyunje seeks to make decisions of his own, and Yoonjin is simply that choice he proudly decided.

For the plot, the protagonist has accomplished his heroic deed. This was the story Yoojin wanted for himself as a main character. Someone who would give himself up for someone else’s happiness. Hyunje made him realize this was not the story he wanted for himself, nor a story he would want for anyone. If lets Hyunje do exactly what all main characters do, then Yoojin’s demons that he had been coming in terms with would win.

I absolutely love jinjae for being two souls who have not been made for each other, but are encounters at the right time and moment that helped the other grow.

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.5 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warnings: violence, mentions of trauma, abuse, sexual tensioooon

See masterlist

Throughout her life so far, y/n has not met many humans. In fact, the only humans she ever met were the Archeron sisters. It was after the war against Hybern that, when Feyre, her high lady for whom y/n would once do anything for, began her diplomatic arrangements between humans and fae. That is when she would join Lucien and Jurian from time to time, and go to the mortal lands in order to negotiate, set new rules and mediate peace.

Which is why, as she stood in this hall now and saw 2 more humans apart from Elide and Lorcan, y/n was quite unsure and observative. From the corner of the room, she watched everyone hug, except for Lorcan of course because it seems like Elide is the only one who ever gets his nonstop clinging, and greet the new arrivals. It was also annoying how her eyes seemed to only look at the wolf who was looking as delicious as eve- Cauldron, y/n. Get yourself together and stop drooling after the most frustratingly arrogant male in existence.

Her eyes then took in the beautiful woman whose name was Yrene, if she remembered the servants words clearly. She had golden-brown skin and breathtaking curly hair with small specks of dark gold visible. Not to mention her slender frame and very generous other features that most probably drew both men and womens attention to her. This woman looked like a Godess of the Sun.

Y/n's attention then moved to the tall man-Chaol, apparently, beside her. His chestnut hair that is slightly long enough for some strands to reach his brow is what stands out to her first, followed by his copper-brown eyes. Apart from his height, he also seems very muscular. He would be considered quite handsome if not for the small frown on his face directed at y/n. That is when she realized that the room has gone completely silent as everyone is watching her. She swallowed her growing unease and said with a formal tone, "Y/n."

Yrene smiled as she came slightly closer, followed by Chaol who had one hand on his sword, "We heard quite a lot about you in Aelin's letter, Y/n. I am Yrene Westfall, it is so nice to finally meet you."

Then, Yrene nudged Chaol with her elbow as a sign to stop glaring and start talking. He cleared his throat and said, although still glaring and assesing her, and especially her wings "Chaol Westfall. Yrene's husband."

Y/N nodded in acknowledgment, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. It was also not helping that Lorcan's gaze was the harshest. He was staring with such intensity and anger that it was a surprise how she still had not melted away under his cruel gaze. "It's a pleasure to meet both of you," she replied diplomatically, trying to ignore the tension in Chaol's demeanor. She knew their arrival signaled an important moment in Aelin's plans, and if she wanted to find a way back home, she needed to navigate this encounter carefully.

Aelin stepped forward, once again breaking the silence that had settled over the room. "It is so good to have you both here again. Although, I am quite upset that Dorian did not come."

At that, Chaol turned back towards her and said, "Yes, he had some issues to solve in Morath regarding the growing number of rebels who were vandalising places as a sign of opposition to his rule. I offered to be the one to stay back while he came here but he insisted and told me to send his apologies."

Aelin nodded as Rowan stood beside his mate and put his arm around her waist. "Well, you two came a long way so have some rest and then we can discuss the matters at hand."

"Indeed, we have much to tell you."

Once Eva and Lysandra decided to lead the arrivals into the guest bedroom, y/n seperated from everyone as she went up to her room to begin finding a way to decipher this book. But, just when she put the book on the table, a knock came from the other side of the room.

When y/n opened it, Lorcan was on the other side. She did not have a chance to react before he stepped in, closed the door, and took y/n by her neck, pressing her into the cool wall. He was nose to nose with her as he snarled, showing his fangs before saying in a voice that made her feel awful things, "You can fool everyone else with your acts, but not me. I was an immortal once too so do not think for a minute that just because I am now a human, I am somehow weaker than you are. No, I have my eyes all on you and if I even get a whiff of something suspicious, something that poses as a threat to us, or most importantly, to my wife and children, I won't hesitate to end you right then and there. Are we clear?"

His hands, she remembered his hands when they were choking her.

Those hands that almost ended her life. Oh Mother, she did not die then, but she would die now.

No, no, NO, NO-

He then unwrapped his hand from around her throat as y/n held on to the wall while coughing and taking in large gulps of air. Forcing her mind and body back to reality.

I am y/n. I am 152 years old and I am free. I am safe. I am strong. I won't cower. I am a warrior.

She repeated her chants in her mind 2 more times before the blur was gone.

When she calmed down, she forced her face into cool indifference "If you think that by choking and threatening me I will be scared of you, you are utterly wrong. In fact, your utter childish behavior since my awakening has been nothing but hilarious and even if in the beginning I may have found it amusing, I am getting bored of your antics now. My only goal is to get home as soon as possible. I do not trust any of you just like you do not trust me and while it is so 'heroic' that you think of me as a villain you should save your family from, I have no interest in fighting you. Therefore, you either help us find a way to stop the danger that is surely heading your way and send me home, or you could fuck off from my presence because believe me Lorcan, this will be the last time you ever stand in my way or put a hand on me. Because if you do so again, I won't hesitate to end you and then pretend to be sad while patting Elide's back as she cries over your grave."

Lorcan only stared at her with an unreadable expression before saying, "Choose your moves carefully." and with that, he turned around and left.

She went towards the mirror and to absolutely no one's surprise, his large hand had left a huge, red and angry mark around her neck. Y/n sank to her knees as another flashback ran through her mind.

She was 18.

He had given her a good amount of money and sent her to fetch the new scabbard that the swordsmith had created for him. However, it was as if unfortune followed her everywhere she went as a group of 3 males' got in her way.

"Look! a whore to use." one of them said as the other two laughed.

"What use are you talking about? She is all bones and no meat. Disgusting. Would not suggest touching her, even with a ten foot pole."

At that, they all laughed even harder while she only watched with a fearful gaze, trying but failing to get out of their way.

"Give us all your money or you die."

At that, she said, "No, I do not have any money."

One of them grabbed her wrist as he said, "Liar."

The other two immediately put their hands on her as they searched for the pouch with the money, hidden in the breastpocket of her dress.

She tried fighting, tried stopping them but they were soldiers, training to be warriors while she was nothing. They would crash her under their foot with no remorse whatsoever.

The male holding her wrist noticed the pouch poking from within her clothes and immediately ripped the front of her dress apart, leaving her only in her undergown, as he grabbed the money.

Without saying a word, they pushed her to the ground and stepped on her stomach before laughing and walking away.

"Bitch"

"Useless females"

"Lets go spend it"

That was all she heard as y/n clutched her stomach and lay in the middle of the cold and empty ground.

When she came home, with no scabbard, a ripped dress and an aching stomach, he got up from his desk and came towards her as he asked, "What happened?"

"S-some males...they...they took the money before I could even reach the swordsmith. They rip-ripped open the, the-"

"You do not have the scabbard?"

Of course he would not care about what happened to her. He only cared about the sole fact that she 'disobeyed' his rule.

In the blink of an eye, he had her back pressed to the wall as he choked her with his big, disgusting and meaty fingers.

"You fool! I gave you clear orders to follow and what did you do instead? Whore around with some males and let them take MY money."

She could not breathe as her feeble attempts at pushing his hand away resulted in nothing.

She was drowning. She was dying. Her vision was getting blurry.

It is alright, darkness would claim her soon. Darkness would welcome her. She believed in the Mother but darkness was what felt more comfortable for her.

It was time.

When y/n open's her eyes again, she is still in the same position in front of the mirror.

As she looked at her neck, her anger at Lorcan started rising again. But more than that, her own emotions, her pity for her younger self took over.

She hated Lorcan even more for bringing up another buried memory. And this one wasn't even in her dream!

With a sigh, she went into the washroom to wash away not only her sweat from the training, but also the feel of Lorcan's hand and the bad memory. Even if it was just a flashback, she still felt dirty to the core.

After a long and relaxing bath, she picked out a turtleneck white dress that was not too tight but hugged her curves just right. After using some of the beauty products and styling her hair, she decided to go to the gardens to clear her mind.

To say that this garden was big would be an understatement. It was huge. When y/n passed by it in the morning, she did not carefully look at it since she was busy trying to rid herself of her nightmare and the stress. But now, as she stood at it's entrance and took the whole view in, she realized how ethereal it is.

Various forms of flowers, plants and trees were taking up every part of the garden. It was an explosion of colors, life and peace. Peace because this whole place was so comfortingly quiet that it made y/n feel so safe, she never wanted to get out.

As she walked, she came across a small, black gate with intricate designs on it and once she entered it, there was a small fountain in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by more greenery. Y/n's awe was written all over her face as she sat on the small space next to the fountain. The sound of water cascading from the marble openings, birds chirping and the smell of nature made her feel all energetic and content.

"Enjoying the calmness?"

She turned around to see Yrene enter the area. She was wearing an elegant long-sleeved creme colored dress with gold highlights at the bottom. Y/n smiled slightly before raising her head up, closing her eyes and soaking in the sun "It has been quite some time since I last was in a place this serene."

Yrene sat beside her as she said, "You mean, you do not have such places in your world?"

"So you are aware about me."

She smiled "Well, it is hard not to be after Aelin sent like 15 different letters while we were on the way, informing us, although in a coded way so no one else understands, about what you told them."

Y/n sighed as she said, "Great. Well, I know you also do not like me so just ask what you need to."

Yrene looked genuinely confused "I do not hate you. I do not hate on other women or females. I myself grew up surrounded by women and their influence so even if you are a stranger from a different world, I do not see you as a threat. In fact, I would love to hear more about where you come from."

Y/n reigned in her shock and scoffed "The males and men in here would disagree. Especially Fenrys and Lorcan."

Yrene put her hand on y/n's shoulder as she said in a soothing voice, "Men, males who cares? They are all the same."

Y/n smirked slightly while raising an eyebrow "And you say this while having a husband?"

Yrene blushed slightly, "Well, the way we met was...unusual. I despised him at first."

Y/n was shocked as her eyes became twice their normal size "Not a chance! He seems so protective over you, well not to say any husband shouldn't, but I would never guess you two were once enemies."

Yrene smiled as she sighed softly "Yes, well, let that be a story for another day. Besides, it seems like we are going to be here for a while. Aelin said there is another thing apart from you being here that also needs to urgently be addressed."

At that, y/n's mood soured as she remembered the book, "The book! I need to get it."

"Wha-"

"There you two are!" Lysandras voice boomed through the area as she came into view.

"Well hello to you too, Lysandra" Yrene got up as she hugged the brown haired female.

Lysandra turned to look at y/n as her eyes widened "Oh my! Y/n that dress looks absolutely perfect on you! and matched with those jewelries? You do have taste in clothing after all- Sorry that came out rude it is just I only saw you in pants and a shirt soooo...this is new." she finished her sentence with a sheepish smile.

Y/n returned her smile with a small but genuine laugh as she said "No reason to apologise. After all, you look rather ravishing yourself." And she did. Lysandras tight forest green, velvet dress not only flattered all her curves, but also brought out the feautures on her face.

Yrene smirked as she nudged Lysandra by her arm and said, "I bet that Aedion will manage to supress himself for maximum 5 minutes before dragging you somewhere to shag."

Lysandra blushed and smiled as she said, "Well thank you, thank you. We can continue this complement battle at dinner. Shall we?"

"You two go. I need to get the book since we will be discussing it."

Lysandra nodded as she hooked her elbow with Yrene and they left. Y/n, tired of walking, flapped her wings and shot into the air. Oh wow, it has been what? two days? since she last flew.

Today was tiring enough. First, Fenrys did not get any sleep at night because even after he calmed y/n down, he still stayed awake in case she goes back to her unfortunate state. Of course this also caused him to overthink a bunch of things about her. What was she seeing? Does she also have dark secrets? What is her past like? But anyways, moving on, then he again had this small moment with y/n in the training area where his body was about to betray his rational mind due to lust.

Then came Chaol and Yrene. After they got rest for a bit, Chaol joined him, Lorcan and Rowan in Rowan's office where he had to sign letters an do his other princely stuff. Honestly? Fenrys did not know or care because his mind drifted off to when Lorcan followed y/n earlier this afternoon. Of course Fenrys couln't follow them without Lorcan immediately finding out but knowing that he followed her for some reason brought a sour taste to his mouth. What if they are working together? Fenrys would not put it past Lorcan because even now after the war he still sometimes despises him. But then again, he has Elide and two sons now, not to mention how he is blood sworn to Aelin so he can not act out of line.

Then why did he follow her?

This question has been bugging him at the back of his mind for the past 2 hours as Fenrys sat in one of the chairs around a large table in the dining room. His quick visit to the borders in order to check on and give out new orders to to the soldiers and do some other official work left him drained of both energy and magic.

Fenrys looked around the room to distract himself from the sleep his body was begging for. Just like in any other room, the signature Terrasen green was present. The multiple large windows surrounding the room gave a perfect view of sunset while its green and silver gray drapes were gathered by the sides. There were small lounge chairs and one large couch in front of the window. There was no carpet on the floors as the polished wood shined under the light in the room.

"Are you sure she can be trusted?" Chaol's voice brought him back from daydreaming as he assesed his family members places. Chaol was sitting opposite to him with his wife by his side, right next to Chaol sat Lorcan and Elide. Next to Fenrys was Aedion and next to him were Lysandra and Eva.

At the opposite sides end, next to Yrene, sat Rowan while his mate sat at the head of the table. This once again left only one space empty, and would you look at that...it was right next to him. When y/n would come, he would have to endure her here, by his side. Oh Gods-

"Well, me and Yrene do like her now. I don't know about the rest of you." Lysandra said while Aedion kissed her on the cheek "If my wife trusts her, then I trust her."

Eva smiled as she said, "I certainly trust her! She did not look at me like most strangers do."

Rowan raised an eyebrow "And how do they look?"

"Like they pity me or like I am some deranged child just because of these" she points to the scars on her face.

The room erupts at that.

"Who do I have to kill?"

"Names. Give me names. Now."

"Eva, why did you not mention that before?"

"Let me pay a nice little visit to them sweetheart."

But all that chaos quickly died down as y/n entered the room. The second his gaze landed on her, Fenrys thought that Rowan sucked the air out of him because suddenly, he forgot how to breathe.

There was no word in the world that would describe her now. She was wearing a deep purple gown with a turtle neck that hugged her body like second skin and ended below her ankles, showing her shoes just a little. Her hair was styled in a way that highlighted her facial features. Not to mention her small but still eye catching purple and gold earings dangling from her ears.

He suddenly felt like the room was too small. Too tight. He was feeling and imagining things that he definetly should not be about a suspect. But how could he not? She looked absolutely delicious and Fenrys would be willing to cut out his kidneys if he could just touch her once.

She came and sat down next to him, although slightly hesitantly and that was when her addictive scent of jasmine and peaches hit his nose. He barely managed to hold back his groan. He was so turned on it was not a joke anymore. So much so that, just from the smell of her scent, he felt like cu-

Y/n put the book that was in her hands on the table as she said, "I am aware that we were meant to have dinner first, discuss this later, but the sooner the better. Aelin, would you do the honors?"

When y/n had gone upstairs to take the book, she could not stand the itchiness that suddenly overcame her. That was why she took off the dress, cursed on Lorcan for a good 5 minutes when she saw the state her neck was in, and changed into something more fitting for a formal dinner.

This decision may also have been slightly influenced by the fact that Fenrys would be there and he would see her.

When she entered the room, she saw how everyone looked at her. The females with support and respect, the males with suspicious or vary glances. For some reason, Lorcan was not glaring but just...looking. Well, that is an improvement at least.

But even under all those stares, it was only one pair of eyes that made her feel things she should not be feeling. Especially not towards someone like Fenrys.

But how could she not? The way he was staring at her like she was the only female in the world and he was a starved traveler looking for his meal. Not to mention how he himself looked so distracting with his hair let loose, forest green and black clothing that was brought together by his brown, leather belt and his black loose pants. Even all those layers failed to hide his perfect, muscular, broad body. And then when she sat next to him--although hesitantly because even with all the lust coursing through her veins, she knew he was still not someone she could ever trust let alone get close to--his arousal hit her like a large wave of water.

How she managed to stay calm and collected while going crazy inside was an absolute shock to y/n. But she managed and put the book on the table.

Aelin stood and said, "On the contrary, I wanted to share the news before dinner which is why the table is currently empty."

And that was then, that y/n realized the table was indeed empty of any meals.

"Y/n found a book that might have some beneficial information for us. When we looked inside, we found out that the Book of Breathings may be another form of Wyrdkey. But then, we could not read any more because the language changed to one that we do not understand. Lysandra found a small prophecy at the corner of the page which, y/n could you read?"

At that, y/n turned towards the book and read the prophecy. Once she was done, she looked up to see everyone, except Lysandra and Aelin, having different facial expressions.

Chaol cleared his throat and spoke first, "So, now what? How do we understand more if we can not decipher the language?"

By now, everyone was looking at the ancient writings on the book. Yrene, her fingers scamming the page, said with some sort of confidence, "Chaol, this is just like what we discovered about the Valg in Antica. At Hasar's birthday getaway. Look at the drawings. They seem similar no? I think...I think I might have a chance at solving this."

Apparently, everyone was thinking the same thing because Aedion looked at others puzzled faces and asked, "You...how? Do you know this language? I am so confused"

"No, I do not know the language but, my mother was a very smart woman. Not only a healer but also an extraordinary philologist. She had deciphered multiple texts and recipes for healing antidotes from some centuries ago. That was how she even managed to create new medicines and afford us a living."

Y/n's heart fluttered with hope. Finally, a chance, an opening to get home. To understand whatever may be coming for them.

The shock, intrigue and excitement was written over everyone's faces. Even Lorcan, whose eyes just went wide before he put his angry giant act back on.

It was Rowan who closed his slightly open mouth, raised a brow and asked, "So, you have been taught the skill?"

Yrene nodded, "Even though it was long ago, I still think I could atleast give it a try. Besides, 3 years ago when we were in Antica, the way me and Chaol discovered new and ancient information on valgs may have given me a slight reminder. If we are lucky, I will be able to atleast get more information in a couple of days."

Pride was written all over Chaol's face as he kissed his wife's cheek and then hugged her as he said, "I will be by your side, helping you. We did it once, we can do it again."

Everyone was smiling brightly with hope, Aelin and y/n, the brightest of them all "Thank you, Yrene. Whatever you need just tell me I will make sure you have it."

Elide, now also hugging Yrene, detached from her as she said, "We can search more in the meantime. Let us not waste another second."

As y/n nodded her head in agreement, she felt a smaller hand touch her arm. When she turned around, Eva was giving everyone, especially her, the big puppy eyes as she said- no begged, "Can I please please be included this time? I really want to help now. Pleaseeee."

Y/n felt this sudden need to hug the girl, but she said, not caring for whatever Lysandra or Aedion might say, "Of course you can Eva. How can anyone say no to you?"

She turned around to see Lysandra shaking her head but smiling as she said, "Alright."

Eva squealed as she jumped on y/n, squeezing the life out of her.

"What? No! it is dange-" Aedion's denial was cut off when Lysandra put her hand on his chest and said, "Love, she is helping us search for more information, not going into battle. I know how much you love her but please, bring down your protectiveness a notch."

"Bu-"

"Aedion."

He sighed but then hugged Lysandra to his chest and whispered something that made her turn bright red as she slapped his chest playfully.

"We shall start from tomorrow morning then." Aelin said, while ordering a servant to bring in the meals.

4 hours later and y/n was back in her room, getting ready for bed. The day was hot enough for her to opt for a loose silk nightgown that ended slightly above her knees.

Hopefully, Yrene manages to find something more. Tomorrow, she will join Aelin at whatever she is planning to do in order to get more information. She has to quickly find her way home. In all honesty, she could not care less for whatever troubles may be coming their way because this is not her world and Aelin is not her queen. Let them deal with their own problems. All she needs is to get back ho-

Y/n nearly fell down and kissed the floor when she felt something slip beneath her feet. She cursed quietly and looked down to see one of the large square floorboards slightly crooked. When she leaned down to touch it, it moved, sliding away and revealing a set of stone stairs, leadin downwards. She could not see anything beyond the first 4 steps as it was complete and utter darkness.

Should she go down and see what it holds? Does Aelin know that there is something like this in her palace? Are there more of these passages? No. Her curiosity always got her into trouble and now she most definetly did not need to follow it. Whatever is down below, it does not look neither safe nor promising.

No. She most definetly did not want to go down there. Even if her heart was beating furiously and her body and even mind was begging her to go and explore.

Hesitantly, she got up and closed the passageway. She could pretend like this never happened and that she has no idea something like this even exists in the first place.

However, she could not go to sleep now with all this new curiosity and energy thrumming in her veins. Without even thinking, she left the room in just her nightgown and slippers. To go where? she had absolutely no idea. Maybe she could go back and sit in her balcony? She did not get the chance to do so yet and look at the vie-

Her inner monologue shut down the second she opened the door to her room only to see Fenrys just entering his. At the sound, he turned around and looked at her face. Or at what he could see from the darkness. Then his gaze fell upon her exposed shoulders and the upper part of her breasts due to the low cut of the nightgown. His gaze turned even darker as he went even further down and saw her exposed legs. She thanked the darkness of the room, only the moon slightly illuminating her body but hiding her face, scars and most importantly, her neck, that is still as horrible as it was in the morning, from his deadly gaze. Hopefully he was far away enough and the hall was dark enough to not see her scars. She would most definetly make Lorcan pay for this. She would also have to go and ask Isolde for some kind of a healing cream to apply. Discreetly, of course.

His gaze came back to her face, as he closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, clenched and unclenched his fists, exhaled and finally, opened them again as he calmly asked, "Where are you going?"

For some reason, she felt nervous under his gaze and found herself fidling with the edge of her nightgown as she replied surprisingly cooly, "Out. Get some fresh air."

His gaze narrowed "In...that?"

Well, he was right it would be foolish to walk around with this much skin exposed, not to mention the ugly mark on her neck. But, y/n would rather cut out her eye than admit someone like Fenrys is right. So, she looked at him arrogantly "And? I can do whatever I like."

"There are male servants here."

"Well, might as well give them a show."

The second she said that, he was right in front of her in an instant. So close that y/n could feel his chest slightly touching hers, causing goosebumps to arise all over her body. She could only see the outlines of his face and even that was enough to make her feel squirmy. She only hoped he can not see below her head.

"You are not going anywhere in that."

Y/n smirked "Why? Are you jealous?"

He also gave her a cruel smirk as he said, "I would rather get eaten by a Wyvern than ever feel jealous over you. It is simply that your current state is not helping your 'innocent' image. Leaving your room late at night? Hmm I wonder where do you go. Maybe to conspire somethings just like you were sent here to do by your High Lord or whatever?"

At that, all the girlish feelings she felt for him at that moment, melted away, leaving only anger and disgust. This was the Fenrys she should always excpect when it comes to her.

"How can you even entertain such an idiotic thought? Believe me neither my ex High Lord nor I are so bored that we need to cross worlds and start trouble in a foreign place."

"You are right. Because, after all, you do seem like a coward. Or at the very least someone who has no meaning in their life."

"W-what?! Of course...of course I have a purpose! I am a warrior, a respected persona in my world."

"And? those are all titles, images you put on. Even in this world you are a coward."

"What even makes you say that?"

"I saw it from the second I winnowed you here. You put up this brave act that no one scares you but believe me, I know that is all a nice little lie. In fact, you are useless. You are of no help here. You think that just because my family is softening towards you that you are one of us?" He chuckles at that and then continues "You will never fit in. I see you for what you are. An annoying brat who thinks the world revolves around her. So I say this one last time. Find your way out of here and leave as soon as possible. You are an extra headache I can not tolerate." with that, he turned around and went into his room, shutting his door and leaving her shattered in the middle of the dark hall. That bastard! He did not even give her time to respond.

She should not feel this way. She has heard much worse throughout her lifetime. He is just jealous that she is making peace with his family. Besides, who does he think he is? A nobody. His words should not hold any value to her because he is an uncultured caveman- or cavemale who is and will always be below her. She will find a way and go to her world and be happy again and and...and forget him and...all of his cruel words that...felt like 5 different sharp knifes being stabbed into her chest.

What was this pain? She is not a coward. How can he so easily judge her without even knowing her? This pain felt too real. Not even Azriels words hurt this much.

But she did not cry. She stopped crying that the day she killed him in the forest. And so, as she stared at his closed door, she knew what to do.

Y/N ran back to her room, furiously slamming the door shut behind her. She paced for a few moments, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within her chest. After waiting for what felt like an eternity to ensure no one would disturb her, she moved swiftly near her bed where a loose floorboard awaited her touch. With practiced hands, she pried it open, revealing the passageway.

Before she descended, she retrieved the large sharp needle she had been carrying with herself for the past few days, along with a small lamp that emitted a soft, comforting light. Tucking these essentials securely into the folds of her cloak, Y/N steeled herself for what lay ahead and descended the narrow stairs that led into the depths below.

How many stairs were there? It seemed endless, the damp smell growing stronger with each step she took. The walls around her were slick with moisture, echoing faint drips of water that added to the oppressive atmosphere. Y/N's grip tightened on the needle, her knuckles turning white as she navigated the dimly lit passage. She tucked her wings as close to her as possible.

The air grew colder as she descended further, the silence broken only by the sound of her own footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Shadows flickered ominously, playing tricks on her weary mind. Despite the discomfort and the ominous surroundings, Y/N pressed on, driven by a determination fueled by both fear and necessity.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of descending into the bowels of the earth, Y/N reached a small landing. In front of her, was some sort of a large circular entryway that was made out of earth and rock.

She slowly got closer to it while also inspecting the area. There was nothing else but this entryway before her. The rest of the space was made out of rock. When she reached it, the touched her hand on to it but...how do you get through this thing?

She knew this was a circular door of some sorts because there were cracks around it. But how does one even move a thing so large and heavy?

As Y/N stood before the large entryway, carved from earth and rock, she couldn't help but marvel at its craftsmanship and wonder about its purpose. The door, if it could be called that, seemed seamlessly integrated into the natural stone surroundings, its surface adorned with intricate runes and symbols that glowed faintly in response to her touch.

She traced her fingers along the cracks that outlined the circular shape, feeling the cool, smooth texture of the ancient stone beneath her fingertips. The door appeared solid and formidable, its size and weight suggesting it would require tremendous force to move.

Taking a step back, Y/N surveyed the area around her. The chamber was quiet, save for the faint echoes of her own breathing. The walls were smooth and unyielding, offering no clues as to how the door might be opened. She glanced down at the large sharp needle she had brought with her, contemplating its use.

With a deep breath, Y/N approached the door once more, this time examining the runes and symbols more closely. They seemed to pulse with a subtle energy, responding to her presence in ways she couldn't quite understand. She recalled stories of ancient magic and hidden passages, wondering if this door held the key to unlocking secrets long forgotten.

As she pondered her next move, a soft rumbling sound echoed through the chamber, causing her to startle. The ground beneath her feet trembled slightly, and she realized with a mix of awe and trepidation that the door was responding to her presence.

A low, melodic hum filled the air as the runes on the door shimmered brighter. Y/N took a cautious step back as the massive stone panels of the door began to shift, grinding against each other with ancient mechanisms coming to life. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the circular entryway began to slide.

Heart racing with anticipation, Y/N watched in awe as the door moved, revealing a narrow opening beyond. The air around her seemed to crackle with magic, a tangible presence that beckoned her forward.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, the door came to a stop, revealing another narrow and dark passage. She sighed, but surged forward as she went through the door into the darkness beyond.

After about 10 minutes, she came to a clearing and dear Mother....this place...whatever it was....was gorgeous. It was a huge opening but what made it so breathtaking were the millions of glowing crystals. The ground, the floor and the walls were all covered in luminescent crystals of all colors, and shapes, each it seemed, with a unique magical property. Some crystals glow softly, illuminating the way, while others emit melodies that resonate through the air.

There were little waterfalls that created small, narrow lakes passing through the crystals. There was even a medium sized pond that was glowing, maybe it also had crystals underneath. When she turned around, it looked as if she came out of a mountains cave.

This place was gorgeous! Did anyone else know of it? She did not know but what she did know was that y/n needed to explore further. She stepped on the ground and the crystals did not even hurt her feet.

There were large ones, tall ones, so tall that she could see her whole body on it. The calming sounds coming from them made her feel so relaxed. Did this place offer some kind of healing properties? Because y/n surely forgot all her mixed emotions and pain the second she landed here. The air was also so fresh and clean and yet, it also carried a maicel scent with it.

As she walked, she came across another small passage but this one was illuminated by thousands of tiny glowing, white crystals. She followed the light to see what this road held.

As she walked through the illuminated passage of glowing crystals, Y/n's curiosity mingled with a growing sense of unease. The ethereal light seemed to lead her forward, drawing her deeper into the unknown. Each step echoed softly against the crystal-lined walls, creating an eerie yet mesmerizing atmosphere.

Finally, the passage opened into a small clearing bathed in a gentle, radiant glow. Y/n blinked, trying to make sense of what lay before her. There, amidst the soft luminescence, stood a mirror unlike any she had ever seen.

Wait. Was this thing like the Ouroboros? The Mirror of Beginnings and Endings? Does this also show you your true self or something like that? What if it shows you your future?

Well it must do something special since it is hidden here.

However, she was not expecting what happened after she came closer to the mirror.

Y/n fell to her knees in shock.

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

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@fullmoon-94 @thecraziestcrayon

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 26

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

A second chapter today as promised

Content Warnings - injury, surgery, mention of psych eval

An hour feels like forever as you watch the one you love slowly fade away. You’re passed out again by the time Peeta returns with a medic.

“I could only find one,” he pants, trying to catch his breath. “There were a lot of injuries due to the bombs.”

The medic kneels down to take a look at you. Your blood was still black, worrying the entire group.

“Please,” Finnick pleads. “You have to help her.”

“There aren’t enough of us right now to handle this,” the medic shakes their head. “Half of our unit died to the bombs this morning.”

“Can you radio for someone? Anyone?” Finnick asks.

The medic was able to call for an armored vehicle to come pick you up. They didn’t have any medical supplies but they could drive you to the hospital.

Finnick holds your limp hand the whole way, refusing to let you leave him.

It’s been 12 hours with no news. The doctors immediately rushed you into surgery when you arrived, not even letting Finnick come with you.

Finnick sat alone in the waiting room of the hospital. Peeta had been taken in for a psych eval and Katniss was in the ICU. Boggs was dead, the Leegs were dead, Prim was dead… (Gale was unfortunately not dead)

A gloomy aura hung over the capital that day. The rebels had won but at a high cost. Finnick didn’t know what he would do with himself if you didn’t make it.

“Finnick,” someone states as they nudge his shoulder. The blond looks up to see Johanna in front of him.

“Jo…” he replies. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard what happened…,” she starts. “I needed to be here. They flew me out from thirteen.”

“Thank you,” Finnick hums as his friend sits beside him.

The two of them sit in silence for hours, Finnick periodically dozing off in his chair.

Johanna nudges him awake when the doctor comes out.

“She made it through surgery,” the doctor states, causing the victors to let out a sigh of relief. “She’s in a medically induced coma for the time being. She’ll need to have another operation in a week to remove the mass in her brain.”

“What mass?” Finnick asks.

“The timer…” Johanna mutters.

“We don’t know exactly what it is,” the doctor explains. “We do, however, believe that it’s the cause of her sudden illness. The doctors are in contact with Mr. Latier to devise a safe plan of removal.”

“Can we see her?” Finnick asks.

“I’m afraid she’s in a quarantine until her immune system rebuilds strength,” the doctor responds. “We need to check you for injuries but after I can set up some chairs outside her room for you.”

Physically, Finnick was fine. The doctors gave him some fluids and treated some cuts but released him soon after.

He wanted to help you in any way he could. The hospital was running short on blood so he donated some. Unfortunately it couldn’t go to you but Johanna’s blood was able to.

The doctors did a full body scan on Johanna and determined she was clear of any capital additions, meaning she could donate blood and tissue to you. She spent every moment with Finnick, only leaving to grab him some food.

Mags and Annie called daily from 13 but weren’t able to come to the capital yet. District 13 was working on assigning the victors places to stay in the capital until Snow’s execution but they weren’t ready. There was still a lot of cleanup to do.

Beetee flew in two days before your scheduled surgery. He showed Finnick and Johanna the brain scans and explained in technical terms how they were going to extract it without triggering any reactions.

“My hacking abilities allowed me to gain access to the experiment database of the capital’s military lab,” he explains. “A similar experiment was done on some rats around 60 years ago. Luckily we do not believe removing it will cause any further damage to her system.”

“What was it designed to do?” Johanna asks.

“I believe the experiment was designed to trigger a rabies-like reaction in the subject; resulting in their death. However, I hypothesize that the process did not complete itself in her due to the amount of blood she lost. The reaction is transported via the bloodstream so it ceased when there wasn’t enough blood left to continue it,” he explains. “She’s lucky she got here when she did. The doctors told me they’ve never seen someone that low on blood survive for that long. I’m optimistic that once we gain access to the medical equipment in the military hospital she will heal fairly quickly.”

“Thank you,” Finnick responds.

“We’re victors,” Beetee states. “We look out for each other.”

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[clonehub]

i would like to hear your star wars hot takes. any of them. all of them.

[weixuldo]

Allow Me // ch 1

Darth Vader x F!Reader

based on this ask by @informationqueen

(a/n: sorry this took so long!! but thank you for waiting!! I just got really focused on finishing up unconditionally and getting enigma set up for the climax. But, never the less, here it is!)

People would kill to be in your position, an officer on Darth Vader’s ship, the Executor. You couldn’t complain really, but ever since you transferred, something had felt off, you couldn’t seem to fit in or find your place amongst the others on board. Sadly, you receive some upsetting news and debate leaving, until an interaction with the Sith Lord, himself, leaves you curious as to who he is under all of that armor (literally & figuratively)

Warnings: mention of parental death, cannon violence, death, depiction of anxiety attack, depressive episode, loneliness, slut shaming, cursing, crude names, harassment

________________________________________

Walking through the halls of your new posted station, you felt a sense of loneliness.

The white halls with troopers cycling through seemed so cold. You had worked here for a few weeks, yet you hadn’t made a single meaningful connection with anyone.

On the contrary, it seemed like most people just saw you as a nuisance, especially a unit of troopers that seemed to make a game out of tormenting you. 

As much as you tried, no one seemed interested in becoming acquaintances with you and it was wearing you down by the day.

But you needed to push through your discomfort, this was one of the best jobs in the empire. Working on Lord Vader’s personal ship?

People would kill to be in your shoes. 

You made your way down one of the many monotonous corridors to deliver a message to Admiral Ozzel about a new development in the rebel pursuit.

Personally, you didn’t really have opinions on the matters of the galaxy, of course you wanted peace for your system, but you couldn’t see a way to really fit into its liberation. So you went on with your life and did the best you could to be a decent human. 

Tensions on the Executor were fairly high with the pursuit of the Rebels fresh on Lord Vader’s mind. You had only ever seen Vader from a distance and he never spoke directly towards you. You often wondered if he even knew half of the people who worked under him.

_______________________

You were about to turn the corner into Ozzel’s office when the doors swooshed open and he stomped past.

“Wait! Sir, I have a message for you” You said, trying to catch up to the man.

He didn’t hear you and continued down the busy corridor to a control room. You followed closely behind but stopped when you entered the doorway of the room. 

Blinking lights and shimmering screens littered the space and a rush of busy admirals and empire workers bustled about the room. A loud beeping sound began and a large screen flashed sciatica before showing the mask of the most feared man in the galaxy.

Darth Vader.

You decided it better not to give the Admiral his message until after the suited man was done speaking; you stayed largely outside of the room, but peeked your head around the corner to see what was happening.

Admiral Ozzel turned to the dark figure and addressed him, though he didn’t get to finish his sentence before he began choking. 

“You have failed me for the last time, admiral” the deep mechanical voice boomed.

Your eyes widened as you saw the man you had just been trailing, collapse lifeless on the sleek floor of the executor.

As much as he was a nuisance, he didn’t deserve death.

Soon, Vader had shifted command to the next Admiral and exited the call. He was terrifying. The stories of him reached every corner of the galaxy and everyone knew them, but some of you just didn’t believe it.

But he just killed a man through a screen… What the fuck.

A gloved finger tapped your shoulder, making you jump. As you turned around, you noticed the man as the man who just replaced Ozzel. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked quite assertively, he was probably just on edge from witnessing his co-worker be killed right beside him.

“I was tasked with giving news of the rebel pursuit to Admiral…Ozzel” you trailed off as you watched two stormtroopers drag his limp body out of the control bay. 

“Well, now you may relay that information to me” the man standing before you stated.

You straightened your posture and delivered the news.

_____________

As you finished your rounds, walking through the monochromatic halls of the flagship, you felt a buzz from the holo-pad clipped to your side.

The blue screen flashed pixels spelling out your father’s name. 

Odd. He never contacted you.

Begrudgingly you moved to lean against an indent in the wall as you checked his message.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, But your mother…”

Oh no.

“Your mother has passed” you heard him choke out on the audio message.

You cut the pad off and slowly slid your back down the wall. You didn’t know what to think, your parents were both healthy and led pretty normal lives, how did she?

The news was so sudden and unexpected. And where were you? Focusing on your career, several systems away….You didn’t get to say goodbye.

You were more in shock than anything, but as you sat there for a moment the tears began to fall. You leaned over your knees and held yourself. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you heard the familiar step of heavy boots. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you felt the nearing presence of the sith lord. 

Maker, this really wasn’t a good time.

You were about to stand at attention for Lord Vader, but before you could, he was already standing over you. 

“State your business here” his deep mechanical voice boomed. 

Your heart began to race, he had never directly spoken to you. Yet here he was looking into your glassy eyes.

You bowed and began to explain yourself. “My apologies, my Lord, I was-”

“You seem to have been crying” he observed.

Your face heated up even more now, was he going to kill you because he found you “weak”?

“I-I’m sor-”

“I sense your great discomfort, tell me what has happened?” he asked, tilting his helmet slightly. 

He's asking you what happened? Does he really care? Probably not, but you saw what happened earlier when his orders were defied.

“It’s my mother, my Lord…She passed,” you said quietly. 

You heard as his mechanical breathing hitched before he looked down the hallways. Once he turned back to you he placed a gentle gloved hand on your upper arm.

“My condolences. I understand.” he said before turning and leaving, his normal strut carrying him down the corridor. 

_____________________________

For the next few days you were still in denial that the interaction with Vader happened. He was known to be a coldhearted machine who never had any emotion other than hatred. But, to you, he was….kind?

Your father had your mother buried quickly after her passing, sadly you were not able to attend her funeral, but maybe it was better that way. If you went back home, you might not have ever come back to the executor. 

You walked around the ship checking off equipment efficiency, today you had the exclusive card to Lord Vader’s meditation chamber. You had checked out that technology before, but you were unusually anxious this time.

What if you ran into him there? Would he remember you?

You swiped the silver card and entered the dark room. Your breath hitched as the doors revealed his chamber to be closed… he was in there.

You gathered all the courage you could and continued to the control system. The task was to check the equipment but you felt as if it were a violation of privacy. You had never been in the room while Vader was actually meditating so you had no idea what to do.

For lack of better ideas you gently knocked on the outer shell of the chamber and prayed he wouldn’t crush your airways. 

The Pod whirred and slowly began to ascend. You gulped as you heard the squeal of his helmet being secured to the rest of his suit. 

You bowed as his chair turned to face you. “I am sorry for the intrusion, My Lord. I have been tasked with inspecting the mechanics and I thought it best to alert you I would be in the room” you spoke.

He lifted a hand, “No need for apologies”.

Huh?

That was much more laid back than you were expecting.

“I sensed your intent once you entered. I have no qualms with people doing their jobs..unless it negatively affects me.” his mechanical voice conveyed to you.

You made sure to silence your thoughts, you didn’t know how much he could sense your emotions. But you knew he was being uncharacteristically cordial. 

“Thank you My Lord” you rose from your bow. 

His dark lenses stared at you for a moment before he spoke once more, “You are the officer I encountered in the corridor, are you not?”.

You nodded.

“Were You able to see your mother buried?” he asked.

Why was he asking you this, it's not like he cared.

“No sir, my schedule did not permit time for that, she was buried on our home planet just the other day.” 

His dark mask tilted downward. He must have been deep in thought because he didn’t register your voice until you repeated yourself for the third time.

“My Lord?”

“Continue your duties, pay no heed to myself” he spoke after another second of silence.

Your heart began to thump heavily inside your chest, you almost would have rather he ordered you to exit. Now you were stuck in here poking around as the mechanics while he was attempting to meditate nearby. 

“I am regretful that you were not able to see her buried” his voice chimed in, surprising you.

“Oh, um, thank you, my lord” you said shyly

“I understand your pain” was all he said before returning to his meditative state.

Your heart tugged as you worked, you knew you shouldn’t make a habit of running into and conversing with THE Darth Vader, but you couldn’t help but feel compelled. The rhythmic breathing of his suit oddly comforted you as you worked maintenance, he was really the only person who had expressed any interest in your life in months.

As you finished the last of your tasks you thought about how crazy this situation was, not only did he allow you to work in his room; you know he said he didn’t mind workers just doing their jobs, but he never allowed people into his meditation chamber with him. Never.

But he also never acknowledged anyone’s emotions, much less sympathize with them.

You gathered your supplies and headed out, looking back once you reached the doors to see if you should say goodbye or just leave. He was seated away from you; his shoulders were so broad, you wondered what he may look like under the suit…

“Thank you, my Lord” you said, deciding to announce your exit, rather than just leave– you didn’t exactly know what he thought of you, but you didn’t want to assume anything or create a bad impression.

________________

Once the large doors closed behind you, you took a deep breath and leaned against the nearest wall.

Maker, that was intense.

You stood there for a moment to gather your thoughts when two troopers walked by; much to your chagrin, they were the two who seemed to enjoy antagonizing you.

“Well well well… what do we have here?” one of them spoke.

“‘What’s got you all out of breath?” the other snarky asked.

You straightened your back and furrowed your brow, “That is none of your concern”

One kept his eye on you as the other nudged him and motioned towards the chamber door. 

“Ohhh, I see. Little officer y/n, providing her services to Sith lords across the galaxy”.

“I bet you love when Lord Vader whips out his ‘saber’, just for you.”

“Oh yea, Vader’s personal concubine” they laughed together.

“Real mature” you said, attempting to push past the two taller troopers.

“Hey, were not the ones “sucking” up to the boss, I mean look at her… it makes sense, how else do you think she got a position here?” one implied, tapping the temple of his helmet. 

“Yeah, it's not like she’s particularly good at her job”, the other snickered.

“At least she’s got a pretty face” 

You pushed past the two, feeling your anger about to spill over.

“Aww, where ya goin’ sweetheart? We were just joking” they laughed behind you.

_______________________________

The rest of your week went on normally, you continued maintenance on whatever needed it and ran messages to various people. Though, you were finding hate mail by your quarters; you knew it was the troopers having their fun and you knew they’d be vandalizing your door if it wasn’t empire property. 

You weren’t distraught over the disgustingly crude letters they were leaving, more than anything you felt numb; why did they care to torment you if you didn’t even feel it anyway.

At this point, you existed purely as a cog to the machine of the empire. That's all you were.

Maybe a walk would clear your mind; it was after hours and you knew you weren’t allowed to go far, but it was better than going stir crazy in your room. 

The white door in front of you opened with a “swoosh” and you stepped through the frame. As usual, there was a crumpled up letter at your feet. You sighed and tossed it into the waste bin, why bother reading it? You’d just get another tomorrow…and the next day… and the next. 

As you roamed the cold halls, pondering your situation. You had no friends, no claims to your own, your mother passed and you weren't even there.

On top of that you were completely replaceable, the empire didn’t even need you; surely there was another being out there just as, if not more, capable than you.

All of these emotions and thoughts used to eat at you, but now you struggled to even feel at all.

It was getting bad. 

Before you knew it, you were as far from the sleeping quarters as you were technically permitted, you prepared to head back when a familiar sound caught your ear.

That breathing, it was him.

You flattened yourself against the wall and held your breath, if he saw you out here after hours and not in the approved uniform, you would actually be done for. 

His heavy footsteps halted and you heard the clink of stormtrooper armor clamoring down the hall. 

“Stop.” the deep mechanical voice commanded.

“Yes, Lord Vader” you heard the trooper respond. Ugh, not just any troopers, it was definitely the pair who had been tormenting you.

There was a moment of silence before the trooper spoke again, “Is everything alright, sir?”.

Soon, you heard a blaster crash to the floor and the nerve wracking sound of suffocation.

“I’m not sure, I’m feeling pretty tense, I haven’t seen my ‘concubine’ lately”

Oh shit.

The trooper who wasn’t being choked to death spoke up, “please. My lord, he didn’t mean anything by it!” 

You peeked around the corner just enough to see Vader menacingly turn towards the other trooper, gloved hand still outstretched by his belt. All of a sudden he released his force hold on the man, allowing him to fall to the floor.

The free standing trooper knelt down to help the other back to his feet.

“I see now, the two of you meant no harm. Carry on” Vader spoke, returning his hands to his sides.

The troopers gave each other a look before they quickly scrambled down the corridor. As Vader turned the other way towards the other exit. 

You were about to head back as well, until you heard faint crunching followed by cries of pain. You looked back around the corner and saw the troopers grabbing at their helmets and Vader slowly turning back towards them. 

With a simple swipe of his hand he sharply drew the men closer to him; they ended up suspended off the ground, their armored bodies thrashing around.

“I will not allow your insulting behavior on my ship- and it seems this is not the first disturbance you have caused” his strong voice boomed through the corridor. 

You silently rose and started tip-toeing back to the rooms, you definitely did not want to be caught here, and it sounded like the Sith lord was concluding business. As you hurried back, the halls behind you rang with crunching and two final screams. 

________________

You made sure to jump straight into bed and turn every light out; a sheen of sweat still covering your forehead.

You got back just fine, but why did you still feel uneasy? You had seen the horrors of the empire, two trooper’s death’s shouldn't shake you that much…

Was it the fact that they were dead because of a conversation you were a part of? What if the Sith lord came for you next? No. he wouldn’t…

right?

You did nothing wrong… well, he doesn’t know that…. Maker!

Soon you were on the verge of a panic attack, the pounding of your heartbeat thumped in your ears and you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. You just needed to relax.

Breathe in through the nose. Out through the mouth. In…out…in…out…

Once you calmed down you checked the time on the built-in digital clock all the rooms had; fuck, over half and hour had passed and you had to be up in four hours.

What you needed to do now was focus on falling asleep so you could do good work tomorrow. 

You settled down and began to drift into a comforting sleep, everything was ok-

Through the thin walls of the workers quarters, you made out a familiar gait… those heavy boot steps… that patterned breathing. 

He was coming.

***

a/n: tyy for reading!! I am planning on doing a few more chapters, I havent decided how long I want to make this, But I hope you enjoyed!! and im really sorry abt the wait, again :(

taglist: @informationqueen

[samgelina-jolie]

"Robin x Nancy" this and "Vickie x Robin"

WHAT ABOUT ROBIN X CARRIE THE THEATRE GIRL AND HER ONE MINUTE OF SCREEN TIME IN EPISODE 5 OF REBEL ROBIN

[ustalav]

worldstate feelings bc i havent talked about her but judith is gideon's older sister. she's also a mage but she's the black sheep of the family, heavily resents her andrastian upbringing, incredibly anti-circle.

after escaping from the ostwick circle a few times, her family signed documents supporting moving her to kirkwall and the gallows because it had "better security"

and while in the gallows she faces terrible atrocities and ends up being one of the mages anders helps free with the mage underground. where she then goes on to support the rebel mages in inquisition (though not with fiona, she has her own group out hunkered down themselves)

she has her own inquisitor worldstate but the game's dialogue options are so lackluster for her lol