#fic: the most vicious creatures on the planet

[uefb]

The Most Vicious Creatures on the Planet, Ch1 (link)

Summary: Newt became aware of his idiosyncrasies in fits and starts. Eventually, he would divide his life into Before he learned humans were vicious, and After. But accepting he could be just as vicious as anyone else was a lesson it hurt to learn. (Focuses on social awakening, boundaries and relationships, and the compromises we make as we grow into a world not always built for us.)

EXCERPT

“I just — I just don’t like St. Mungo’s very much,” he managed around that tight pressure in his throat. “Or hospitals generally. Hate them, actually.”

“Oh, Newt,” Madam Breit sighed, and she patted his hexed hand and gestured at him to sit back on the bed instead of hunching over the hard worktable. “I know you do... But I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to them if you keep on like this. Between the creature fixation, your absolute recklessness on the pitch, and all these issues with —”

She paused and seemed to bite her tongue, and then concluded uselessly:

“Well.”

Newt felt her studying him hard then, and when he glanced up he knew enough about faces and human-specific behaviours to understand she was not sure precisely how to proceed…

“Madam Breit,” he finally said, “l know I’m odd.” She seemed to deflate in relief that he’d saved her from actually saying it. “I know that people don’t always like things that are - are different. And it’s okay, you know. I’m okay with it.”

She looked like she was about to sit down on the bed beside him and say something soothing, so Newt was very glad when she caught herself halfway through her movements, and didn’t.

“But you shouldn’t have to be, child,” she said instead in a sad voice, and Newt immediately shrugged, lifted the hand fused to his notebook to cradle it against his chest. She spelled the compress he’d finally abandoned to float alongside his face. “You shouldn’t have to be okay with it.”

“I think it’s just the social behaviour of humans.” He pulled his knees up toward him and watched a shadow on the far wall. “I think there’s something about - about human adolescence maybe — in particular — that elevates the need for - for social cohesion within groups.”

Madam Breit was folding several small squares of paper into birds as he spoke, and then she’d tapped them with her wand to bring them to life and sent them away with messages to the headmaster and professors.

“So I—” Newt was saying. “I think maybe I do have to. Have to be okay with it, that is. Because I think, maybe — at a species level — this is a fairly typical experience…. One that’s probably - Well, it’s probably actually evolutionarily protective.”

He let his eyes drift away to the window again, where the thin cirrus clouds had cleared, and its frame was filled instead with the brilliant, boundless blue of a cold autumn sky.

“The exclusionary behaviour is protective, I mean to say. And then the - the corrective action, for those who stray from the pack… It teaches the lone member a lesson, and it reinforces the expectations to everyone else. Which I’d imagine, really, is an incredibly effective tactic.”

(After all, by the time Newt had gotten over his surprise enough to trip up the Slytherin boys with enlivened roots and a well-directed gale of wind—by the time Leta had set to screaming at her housemates—an impressively large number of students had already gathered: a corrective action turned immediately to group reinforcement.) x

[avi17]

MK X Pacific Rim AU Concept

You ever get an AU idea in your head and go absolutely feral for a bit putting it all on paper?  Me neither, until now!  This isn’t so much a fic as just a detailed wiki-style outline, but hopefully it will still be fun to read!  I had a ton of fun figuring out how to translate all these concepts and backstories into the PR world. If anyone feels like doing anything with these ideas they’re absolutely welcome, just please credit me and link back to this post if you do!  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write this into some massive longfic, but I definitely hope to do some shorts in this ‘verse. I brainstormed this with a bunch of people, and got some fun ideas from @sxvethelastdance​, @bastardsunlight​, and @fallen-angel-lucifer- thank you guys so much for humoring all this!​

Pan Pacific Defense Corps Marshal Raiden was a legendary Mark 1 pilot dating back to when the program was first launched.  Based out of the Shatterdome in Tokyo, he and his brother Fujin, in their Jaeger Thunderbolt Gale, were the first line of defense from Kaiju attacks headed westward from the breach for five grueling years. However, they met their match in Motaro, the first Category 3 Kaiju to make landfall on Hokkaido, and when Fujin was torn from their Jaeger and killed, Raiden was forced to take down the creature solo- a feat replicated only twice since. The physical and emotional toll of that day led to his retirement from active combat, but he remained in the PPDC as a commander, as well as a mentor of other pilots.  When the Jaeger program was decommissioned, he was the last one to retain his faith in it, and took up leadership over the few remaining Jaegers at the Shatterdome in Hong Kong for one final stand against the Kaiju. Current Pilots:

Liu Kang and Kung Lao Jaeger: White Lotus Original base: Hong Kong

The home base heroes of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, pilots Liu Kang and Kung Lao are the top graduates and darlings of the Wu Shi Jaeger Academy.  Raised together in a martial arts sect before the first breach and drift compatible since their ranger training began, they are nearly inseparable- though Kung Lao has never quite forgotten how Liu Kang's scores just barely edged out his own in their individual skill assessments, and he strives constantly to prove himself his partner's equal (despite Liu Kang's insistence that such competition is unnecessary). Their Jaeger, White Lotus, is a well-rounded, powerful machine, featuring high-powered flamethrowers, as well as a system of fuel vents that allow it to set its fists alight and heat them to brutal temperatures in close-quarters battle. For ranged combat, it utilizes a circular blade mounted to its head, which can be thrown like a boomerang with enough force to slice through buildings. 

Kitana and Jade Jaeger: Edenia Glory Original Base: Lima

Interplanetary refugees, Kitana and Jade escaped to Earth after their homeworld was attacked and overrun by Kaiju invaders.  Their spacecraft crashed in the middle of the Amazon rainforest, and though they immediately searched for civilization in order to warn Earth’s people of what was to come, the first wave of attacks had already begun.  After making their way to Lima, they volunteered to put their combat skills and close bond to use as rangers in the South American Jaeger program. Together they have defended the coasts of Chile and Peru since the Mark-2 days, though between battles, they spend their time in communication with the PPDC and the U.N., sharing what information they can about the Kaiju and other alien life previously unknown on Earth. Their Jaeger, Edenia Glory incorporates technological elements from their original planet not used in any other Jaeger, and is lithe, fast, and deadly, with a style focused primarily on precision bladework rather than hand to hand brawling.  Its name is a tribute to their lost homeworld, and they use it to great effect to prevent Earth from suffering the same fate.

Sonya Blade and Jackson "Jax" Briggs (later Johnny Cage) Jaeger: Flawless Victory Original Base: Los Angeles

Both Lt. Sonya Blade and Maj. Jax Briggs had successful careers in the U.S military behind them when the first Kaiju came ashore and attacked San Francisco.  Though at the time, Sonya was in the field pursuing the criminal Kano, she returned to the states when her friend and superior officer, Jax, suggested that they might be good candidates for the newly-formed ranger program.  He proved to be right, and the two did time at the Shatterdomes in both Los Angeles and Anchorage, fighting off Kaiju from Canada to Mexico, and became well-admired figures within the military for their ascent.  Though far from unscathed, the ostentatiously-named Flawless Victory is the last American Jaeger left standing by the time the program is decommissioned and is a tank of a machine, sacrificing some speed for the greatest physical strength of any Jaeger still on the field. Like the other American Jaegers, for long range combat it favors plasma cannons and explosives- particularly a ring-shaped plasma blast with wider coverage than the usual single beam- but it is at its most effective when delivering a crushing beatdown up close and personal. Johnny Cage is the star of a popular series of action films dramatizing the battles of the Jaegers and Kaiju, and to many civilians at home, is as much the face of the Jaeger program as its real members.  He has a secret ambition to become an actual pilot and has an impressive record in simulations, but because of his celebrity status (and his personality), Marshal Raiden and the other Jaeger teams refuse to consider him as a true contender.  However, when a vicious fight with two Kaiju at once leaves both of Jax's arms shattered, taking him out of commission as a pilot for the foreseeable future, Sonya is forced to accept Johnny as her new co-pilot in order to keep Flawless Victory in the fray where it is needed. Despite her irritation with him, they turn out to be drift compatible, and become a formidable duo in their own right.

Hanzo Hasashi and Kuai Liang Jaeger: Phantom Vengeance Original Base: Nagasaki

From the Nagasaki Shatterdome, the bright yellow Mark-3 Jaeger Shirai Ryu defended the coast of the Yellow Sea across three countries.  Its building was overseen by its husband and wife pilots, Hanzo and Harumi Hasashi, and it was named for the legendary warrior clan from which Hanzo claimed descent.  It was in service for four years, though Hanzo and Harumi always spent as much time as possible between missions with their young son Satoshi, who lived with them in their quarters at the base so that his parents could still have a part in raising him in a world that would not guarantee a reunion for families who choose to separate. Across the sea based in Shanghai was an organization known as the Lin Kuei, a private military contractor funded by shadowy, unknown sources.  Though its bread and butter was anti-Kaiju weaponry, it also began to develop its own Jaegers- the only ones outside the PPDC, created from illicitly obtained blueprints, and hireable for the right price.  Its crown jewel was a small, stealthy machine called simply Sub-Zero, unique for its proficiency underwater and tendency to use coolant as a weapon rather than fire or explosives, and piloted by two brothers- Bi-Han and Kuai Liang. When the massive Kaiju Kintaro directly attacked the Nagasaki Shatterdome, Shirai Ryu was the only Jaeger left to defend it. Desperate, the Hasashis attempted to contact the Lin Kuei, as they were closer than the nearest other Shatterdome in Tokyo.  They received no response and were forced into battle alone, and though they prevailed, the price was too high- not only Harumi’s life when part of their cockpit was crushed, but Satoshi’s as well, buried in the wreckage of the base.  In his grief, Hanzo blamed the Lin Kuei- particularly Bi-Han, with whom he had never gotten along- for what he perceived as a failure to act due to greed and amorality. What Hanzo did not know that day was that they were experiencing the first double event in history, and Sub-Zero and the Lin Kuei were under attack by the Kaiju Sheeva at the same time.  The Kaiju hivemind had figured out Sub-Zero’s usual strategy of attacking from the water, and were ready with an acidic bite that tore a hole in the cockpit, which rapidly flooded.  After a similar failure to make contact with Shirai Ryu, Bi-Han was swept out into the sea and presumably drowned (though his body was never recovered), but Kuai Liang, despite a bleeding face and water up to his neck, managed to kill the Kaiju mere moments before Sub-Zero ceased to function. After his release from medical, a furious Kuai Liang set off immediately for the remains of the Nagasaki Shatterdome to confront Hanzo for his failure to respond to the attack, since Shanghai was within Nagasaki's area of coverage. Both blinded by rage, they nearly got into a fistfight in the middle of the base, but once they realized what had truly happened, their anger cooled.  They bonded over their grief, and the unfathomable experience of having to pilot a Jaeger alone after such loss- and in the process, discovered they were drift compatible, and that they both wished to continue the fight in retaliation for what the Kaiju had done to their families. Their new Jaeger, Phantom Vengeance, is a strange sight- constructed from salvaged pieces of both Sub-Zero and Shirai Ryu (along with some newer tech to fill the gaps), it looks as much like a walking ghost as its pilots. However, it should not be underestimated based on its appearance. Quick and light (for a Jaeger), it features a retractable grappling hook to drag Kaiju into the range of its blasts of powerful coolant, and a devastating grip to snap them like twigs once frozen. 

Other Players:

After the destruction of Sub-Zero and the defection of Kuai Liang, the Lin Kuei concluded that the problem with the Jaeger program was the human element of drift compatibility, which limited the number of possible pilots and held them back due to concern for their partners in battle.  Therefore, in secret, they began a series of horrific experiments, fusing subjects with their Jaegers to operate more like batteries than true pilots, and erasing their memories through drugging and electric shock in order to create blank minds that could operate together without the complications of emotion.  Assassins Cyrax and Sektor, along with Kuai Liang’s close friend Tomas Vrbada, were among the subjects of this initiative, forced to operate a three-armed machine called Triborg.

Shang Tsung is a scientist, shunned from the academic community and at times running afoul of the law for his unethical- if not outright twisted- biological experiments. He and Marshal Raiden have crossed paths in the past, and though no one knows the details, their enmity towards each other is clear. However, in his desperation after the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, Raiden had Shang Tsung brought from prison to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, and gave him access to whatever parts he needed to find a way to destroy the Kaiju- by any means necessary. Shang Tsung agreed partly because of the money offered, but mostly because the world's destruction would throw quite the wrench into his own personal goals. (And maybe because it was deeply satisfying- and perhaps useful- to have the Marshal in his debt.) Where his allegiance will lie at the end of the day, however, is anyone's guess. 

For such experiments, one needs a steady supply of Kaiju parts, and for contraband like that, Raiden had to look even lower- to the crime syndicate the Black Dragon, led by Kano and including his associates, Kabal and Erron Black.  Though once mercenaries dealing in everything from illicit arms trading to assassination, the Black Dragon followed the money and and put all their resources into the trafficking of Kaiju parts.  With demand so high, they have become immensely powerful, but their involvement with the PPDC in the name of greater profits ends up bringing Kano face to face with his old nemesis, Sonya Blade- with predictably violent results.

Nightwolf was the historian of the Matoka tribe, which had long ago predicted a great cataclysm that would bring about the end of life on earth.  Though he had been skeptical that such legends were real, when that cataclysm came to pass in the form of the Kaiju invasion, Nightwolf was not content to merely await a prophesied destruction.  He left home and applied for the ranger program, but although he trained toward being a pilot and had the necessary combat skills, he never found a partner with whom he was drift compatible.  Rather than dwell on this with resentment, he pivoted his focus into other ways he could help, and found his place as a technician and LOCCENT officer.  Transferred to Hong Kong after the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, he was the rangers’ primary point of communication with the base while in battle.

Though most of the world fears the Kaiju, there are also those who worship them, and such admiration has evolved over the years into a full-blown religion.  The shadowy high priest of this cult is Quan Chi, who claims that the Kaiju have been sent by the God of Death himself- to end the days of humans on Earth as we so richly deserve.  Recently, a strange, hollow-eyed man calling himself Noob Saibot has appeared like a shadow at Quan Chi’s side, serving as his personal bodyguard against all threats and a fellow ardent believer in the inevitability of humanity’s destruction. Mileena is a grotesque fusion of Kaiju DNA with that of Kitana, which was stolen against her will when she was injured and bled during the invasion of Edenia. She enters Earth as a general of the Kaiju, connected to their hivemind, along with the first Category 5 to ever come through the breach, Goro.  Together, they intend to ensure the will of their creator and the ruler of the Anteverse- Shao Kahn- is carried out.

[chaoticpuff17]

Endgame

ADG Tae fic

Masterlist

Warnings: reference to non con. yandere behavior

hello my darlings! A little later than intended. blame my computer problems. But here it is! the next ADG oneshot! love you all, I’m off to go rewrite everything I lost on the Yoongi chapter. I’ve been avoiding it.--- Chaotic puff. 

Taehyung watched the screen a vicious smirk playing across his lips as he watched her run through the alleyway. His poor little bird, always running. She had to know by now that she couldn’t escape him. How many years had they been playing this game? She had to know by now that she couldn’t win, but it was cute to see her try.

She hated him. That was okay though. She just needed a little push in the right direction. He was tired of watching from a distance. He was tired of watching her and only seeing her face to face a few times a year. They’d been playing their game for so long now, she had to be tired as well. His sweet Aerie was an excellent opponent, but she had to know that it would all come to an end eventually.

He could remember the first time he had seen her. They’d been so young then. They’d both been on the train. Taehyung had been exhausted after a night of hacking, and she had been immersed in something on her own computer. Her glasses had slipped down her nose in the most enchanting way. Her hair was piled haphazardly on top of her head with strands falling down all around her face, though she didn’t seem to notice or care, and he couldn’t help but wonder what kept her so immersed. He’d pulled out his own computer and set to work finding her among the other people doing work on the train.

He’d found her easily enough, and the cause of the little furrow between her brow became evident enough. It was a paper for school, a literary analysis for an English literature class. Her face was all scrunched up as she looked over The Picture of Dorian Gray. She was intensely focused on it, and a little digging into her files and schedule had told him that the paper was due in a few days. He found her concentration, the way she poured over each line, endearing. He loved the way she chewed on her inner cheek as she thought over paragraph. She was just adorable.

A little digging into her computer had given Taehyung access to her life. He knew exactly how to go about finding her. He knew what school she went to, her major, where she lived, and he pursued her with enthusiasm. The only hitch in his pursuit was her continued rejection, something Taehyung had not anticipated. Why would he have? No one had ever rejected him before. She couldn’t have done better. Even if she tried, Taehyung wouldn’t have allowed it. She was his from the first moment he saw her on that train.

Aerie may have looked sweet, but she was a snappish creature by nature. She rejected every bouquet, every invitation to dinner. She’d rejected his affection at every turn, rejected his every effort, until she’d taken matters into her own hands and begun their little game. He’d gone to offer her the world, only to find her gone. Her apartment was empty. A quick search revealed that she had even dropped out of school. She’d simply vanished.

Taehyung’s first instinct had been panic and rage. How could she leave him like that? How could she reject him? And then there came a new feeling. Excitement. If she wanted a chase, he would give her one. It had been no trouble at all for him to track her down. She’d changed cities and was doing her best to keep a low profile, but she had no idea who she was dealing with. The look of shock on her face when he’d appeared on her doorstep had been so satisfying, so adorable. The frying pan she’d taken to the side of his head, was less adorable.

Taehyung had become smarter after that. His little bird was so prone to flight that he had to be more careful in his approach or risk another frying pan to the head something he had no intention of repeating. She’d been easy enough to find again though. She was never really out of his reach not with all the resources he had at his fingertips. He’d cornered her just a few hours later in a bus station a few towns over, succeeding in knocking her out and taking her to a hotel to wait for her to wake up again. He wanted her calm when he made his offer again, a life by his side.

She had not been calm though. She had fought him tooth and nail to get out of that room and had laughed in his face when he’d made her the offer, and it was something he couldn’t understand. How could she refuse him? He was handsome. He was young. He was wealthy, and he had chosen her. Out of every woman that had thrown themselves at his feet, he had chosen her. None of that seemed to matter though. She looked at him as though he had a second head, as if he was the most vile being on the planet.

It had been the beginning of a longstanding game between them. He would chase, and she would run. Sometimes he would let months elapse before he took her again. He loved the look of shock and horror on her face when he showed up again. It was something he would never get tired of.

The next time he decided to take her, he brought her to what the boys had dubbed as his play house. The house was situated in the middle of nowhere. Even if she was able to make it out of the house, there was nowhere she could go. He had designed it especially for her after all.

The area surrounding the house was made up of a series of mazes designed to keep her in, and most paths led back to the house, back to him.

The games were fun, but Taehyung was craving more now. Everyone was settling down. Namjoon had Y/N even if she had engaged him in a chase of their own. Hoseok had Iyla. Jin had taken his patient as his own, and Yoongi had sired a kid with one of Jimin’s girls. It was time to settle down himself, but that required nailing down his little bird.

He’d indulged her long enough. He’d given her plenty of chances to end this on her own, plenty of chances to surrender, to come to him of her own will. He let her believe that she’d managed to escape him, but she was never truly out of his grasp. He always knew where she was, always. A few sneakily placed tracking devices on her body ensured that.

She was a smart little devil. He’d give her that. His first few attempts at trackers had been foiled by her throwing out her phone each time she came in contact with him. He had quickly learned that he couldn’t place trackers in any of her devices. So when he’d switched to placing chips on her person, he’d errored on the side of caution and placed several in assorted spots. She’d never be able to get rid of them all. Of that, he was confidant. She was smart, but not smart enough to find all five trackers, and they ensured that Taehyung had no problem tracking her down for the endgame.

Taehyung stood up from his chair with a leisurely stretch. It was time to fetch his little bird.

Aerie woke up in a house she was horribly horribly familiar with. She’d been there more times than she’d like to admit over the years. She knew that within its walls lurked the psycho that had been nipping at her heels for years. Every time he tracked her down, he brought her to this horrible place. The house was like its own circle of hell with Taehyung ruling over it. Each time she was there, there was some new horror awaiting her. There had always been a way out, but it came at the price of playing his twisted games. She’d learned early on that Taehyung never did anything out of the goodness of his heart. Nothing was free, and she’d given up more than she’d ever wanted to admit over the years. He’d slowly taken everything from her.

In the beginning, he’d only been a stalker, the creep she kept rejection. She’d thought that if she moved away, if she laid low for a while, he’d forget about her and find a new obsession, and she would be free to enroll in a new school and live her life free of him. That hadn’t been the case though. He’d followed her wherever she went.

She knew he was toying with her. She knew he was letting her escape. He’d made that clear, made it clear that she had no power in their relationship. As much as she hated to use that word to describe them, it was the best fit. Twisted and horrid as it was, it was still a relationship, and Taehyung had made his affection for her more than evident even if she had done the same with her hatred for him. That never seemed to bother him too much though. He wasn’t delusional. She knew that he understood her hatred of him, he simply didn’t care. He seemed to think that time would reverse her contempt. It had not, and as much as she hated to admit it, this was not the first time she had woken up in the house tied down and practically naked.

Her hands were bound by leather cuffs to a bed that looked more like a bird’s cage than it did a bed. It was a glaring reminder of his degrading little nickname for her, his little bird. She hated that nickname as much as she hated him. The bed didn’t just look like a cage, it functioned like one as well. If Taehyung wished he could lock her behind the elaborate bars to rot. It was degrading, but so were most of the things he did to her. This time even her legs were restrained held apart by a spreader. It was only the beginning of her humiliation. Taehyung hadn’t even made his appearance yet.

She took a moment to shake off the last vestiges of grogginess caused by whatever drug Taehyung had used to knock her out his time. His more violent methods didn’t leave her with a lingering feeling of nausea, but they did cause more bumps and bruises. It was hard to say which one was worse, but she supposed that it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t as if Taehyung gave her a choice in how he captured her.

Once she didn’t feel like her head was spinning and her stomach wasn’t about to heave its contents all over the red bedding, Aerie took a look around to see where her tormentor was. She couldn’t see him through the intricate bars of the bed, but that didn’t mean much. He could be lurking somewhere just out of sight. What she did notice was the set of skimpy lingerie that clung to her body. She should have been used to it by now, but seeing his selections still made her skin crawl. There was no such thing as modesty when it came to Taehyung.

This particular set was black, lacy, and strappy. It didn’t cover much though. Much to her annoyance it was lacking in two distinct areas. There was no material where the cups of the bra should have been, there was nothing. Strips of lace curved up around the top of her breasts, but the majority of her chest was left exposed to the room. Her panties were lacking as well in the fact that the lace was missing one vital component, the crotch. In its place were two silky straps that curved down between her thighs and back up around her ass leaving everything but the area right above her center exposed. His lingerie choices were typically risqué, but they usually covered a bit more.

As much as she hated the lace wrapped around her body, what was worse was the collar fixed around her throat. This was an item she was intimately familiar with. The collar was made of a thick leather that was wrapped in a sumptuous black lace. The front of the collar was decorated by a single silver ring that Taehyung took full advantage of in his escapades. As his “little bird”, Aerie was nothing more than a pet to him, and the collar staked his claim in a blatantly obvious way.

She was ashamed to say that Taehyung had been her first, though it hadn’t been her choice. She could still remember that horrible day vividly. It had been a little over two years ago. She’d been particularly resistant to him that night, sick of him and his games. Her sharp tongue had been her undoing. She’d pushed Taehyung too far, refused him one too many times. Granted it was bound to happen eventually, but that didn’t make the result any less traumatizing.

Aerie woke up groggy doing her best to shake off the remnants of a drug induced sleep. It was like swimming through a fog. When she finally shook it off, she wished that she hadn’t. Her hands were bound above her head by leather cuffs, and she was dressed in a set of skimpy lace lingerie that certainly wasn’t hers. She couldn’t recognize the room, but she did recognize the man pacing around the room like a caged animal even if she wished that she didn’t.

Everything came rushing back at the sight of him.

Aerie hadn’t been on a date in a long time. Her stalker had put a damper on love life. Moving around from place to place in an effort to avoid him didn’t leave much time for dating, but she was excited. She’d even taken the time to do her makeup with what little skill she had and curl her hair all in preparation of her date with Minho. She’d met him at the store she’d been working at to make ends meet while she tried to hide from the man who had been making her life a living hell. He was sweet, and she enjoyed talking with him. One date couldn’t hurt especially not with someone has lovely has Minho.

The grin that had stretched across her face had been there all day that is until she saw the man of her nightmares stalking into the restaurant practically radiating fury. She stared at him like a deer in the head lights as he paused by the first few tables. The world stopped for a moment only to start again with the sound of bullets.

Taehyung released a volley of shots into the air sending the entire restaurant into a panic, a cacophony of screams filling the air.

“Everybody out!” He growled eyes fixated on where she sat across from Minho, and the patrons scrambled to obey him.

Minho reached across the table grabbing her hand as he stood up to flee the restaurant with the rest of the customers.

“Not you.” Taehyung growled stalking towards them pulling up a seat and taking a seat beside Aerie.

“We don’t want any trouble.” Miho stuttered eyes wide and frightened eyes his gaze flitted between Taehyung and the door.

“Don’t want any trouble?” Taehyung laughed arching one perfectly manicured brow as he draped an arm across Aerie’s shoulders keeping her in place. “You should have thought of that before you took out my girl. Isn’t that right, little bird?” He purred leaning in and brushing his nose over her neck in a motion that was far too intimate for what the two of them shared.

“Look man, I didn’t know she was taken!” Minho gulped raising his hands in a motion of surrender.

“Didn’t know?” Taehyung laughed moving his hand so that it was curled around the back of her neck one finger twirling a strand of her curled hair. “That makes it all better then.”

Without any warning, Taehyung drew his gun again and fired three shots directly into the other man’s head as Aerie screamed in horror beside him. His hand fisted cruelly in her hair dragging her back against her seat stopping her from running as she so wanted to do.

“Aerie, Aerie, Aerie.” He cooed his grin vicious as he gazed down at her. “You’ve been a very bad girl, little bird.”

There was a sharp prick, and then everything went dark.

That brought her back to the present where Taehyung had only just noticed that her eyes were open.

“You’re awake.” He grinned coming to take a seat on the edge of the bed. “I thought that I’d given you too much of the sedative for a minute there. How are you feeling, little bird?” He cooed moving up the bed so that he was sitting next to her hips, trailing a finger across her clavicle.

“Fuck off.” She growled trying to squirm away from him without much luck as the cuffs dug into her wrists keeping her in place.

“None of that, little bird.” He growled pressing down to keep her from wiggling away. “If you wanted my attention, you could have said something. I would have been by your side in a heartbeat.”

“Fuck off.” She repeated kicking wildly in the hope of landing a hit. She was almost successful, landing a hit to his upper thigh, but it was just shy of where she need it to land, and only served to piss him off.

Taehyung was quick to straddle her hips keeping her pinned down as he wrapped a long fingered hand around her throat.

“If you’re going to act like a whore, little bird, I’ll have to treat you like a whore.” He growled grinding his hips against hers.

“Get off!” She shrieked trying to buck him off without much success.

“If you’re going to be a whore,” He snarled moving down the bed and binding her legs so that they were spread apart. “You should at least by my whore, don’t you think?”

“Get off of me!” She shrieked again tears brimming in her eyes as the panic began to settle in.

“Such a shrill voice.” He hissed moving off the bed to grab something. He returned much to quickly. “If you can’t be sweet for me, you should remain silent.”

There wasn’t anything she could do as he wrenched her jaw open shoving a ball gag between her teeth and fastening it behind her head with practiced ease. “There.” He purred moving back so that he was settled between her spread legs. “Much better.”

She thrashed against her bindings as the monster tore off the skimpy underwear. Tears burned her eyes as he shoved a finger into her cunt. She wasn’t ready for the intrusion, but Taehyung didn’t seem to care as he pushed forward. He only paused as he was met with a resistance he hadn’t expected.

He pulled back a slow smile spreading across his features. “Little bird.” He cooed gently brushing the tears from her eyes. “Such a good girl, saving herself for daddy.” He pressed kisses down against her throat trailing them down towards the lace that covered her breasts before he savagely tore that from her body just as he had the panties.

“Don’t worry, baby. Daddy can be gentle.” He promised pressing a kiss to her nipple that had pebbled from the cool air. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to punish you for letting that leach put his hands all over you.” She whimpered her pleas coming out as a garbled mess against the gag.

She’d always thought her first time would be, well maybe not romantic, but at least nice and with someone she chose. Having that choice ripped away while being violated by the man who had made her life a living hell had made the blow all the worse. It had taken her a long time to recover from the trauma of being raped by her stalker, and that time had been made even longer considering that every time he came back to torment her, he had no problem with repeating the process over and over again. It was horrible, but she expected it now. It was just one more thing to get over with before he put her through whatever game he had prepared for them this time around.

“Hello, little bird.” His deep voice washed over her filling her with deep seated dread. “Did you miss me?” He cooed entering the cage like bed and perching himself on the edge of the mattress as he grinned down at her.

“Fuck off, Taehyung.” She growled pulling on the restraints that kept her arms in place. She knew better than to pull of the leg spreader. If she pulled on it, it would only make her predicament worse.

“Aerie, Aerie, Aerie.” He tutted one of his long fingers slowly trailing up her bare leg. “Why must you always be so rude, little bird? Haven’t you missed me at all? I’ve missed you.”

She grinned viciously as she jerked at her arm restraints trying to lunge at him. “What do you want, you fucking psychopath? Can’t you find another girl whose life you can ruin?”

He laughed showcasing that box shaped grin that would have been endearing on anyone else. “Why would I do that when I have you?” He cooed trailing his finger up to her thigh.

“What do you want?” She growled again.

“I have a proposition for you, little bird, but why don’t we have some fun first?” He hummed slowly crawling on top of her while she glared up at him.

“Or you could just tell me.” She grumbled wishing that any of her limbs were free so that she could smack him.

“And what would be the fun in that?” He chuckled placing a kiss on the soft skin of her belly. “I’ve missed you so much, little bird. It’s been so long.” He purred trailing kisses up towards her exposed chest.

“Get off of me!” She growled bucking her hips up in an attempts to throw him off thought he motion only seemed to encourage him.

“And if I don’t want to?” He asked smirking against her skin as before nipping at her exposed nipple eliciting a yelp from her. If there was one thing that Taehyung loved about his little bird, it was how sensitive she was. Her reactions were just as adorable as that first night.

“Fuck you.” She hissed doing her best to wiggle away from him despite her restraints.

“Oh, you will.” His grin was positively devious as he dove down to attack the sliver of her neck that was left uncovered by the collar.

He loved that collar. He loved the way the lace looked against her skin and how easy the loop made it to manhandle and restrain her. He’d more than once attached the matching lace covered leather leash to that little loop. Seeing her in that collar always got him fired up. Once he brought her home he’d have an array of collars for her, but this one would always be his favorite.

“Get off!” She shrieked wishing not for the first time that she could torment him just as much as he tormented her.

“Hush, little bird.” He cooed lifting his head so he could brush his nose against hers affectionately. “Let me make you feel good.”

It was a source of never ending shame for her that Taehyung was in fact an excellent lover. He pulled her pleasure from her by force with the persistence of a dog with a bone. Even if she resisted, he would make sure that she came for him, more than once. It was a matter of pride for him that he could make his little bird writhe with pleasure beneath him despite her protests.

“Stop!” She shrieked taking the opportunity to head butt him forcing him back much to his displeasure.

He hissed placing an elegant hand against his throbbing nose as he glared down at her. She was still feisty no matter how many times he played with her. He loved it.

“That wasn’t very nice, little bird.”

“That makes two of us.” She snarled relieved that he had backed away for the moment. “What proposition did you have?” She asked hoping to distract him.

“Eager aren’t we?” He cooed sitting back so that he was settled on top of her thighs.

“Just tell me, you sick fuck.” She huffed glaring up at him.

“This is something best discussed over dinner. Though I’d love to keep you just as you are.” He purred his eyes trailing over her form.

“Then let’s have dinner.” She’d do anything to avoid his more amorous attentions even if it meant sitting down to dinner with him.

With a sigh Taehyung set to work undoing the restraints at her ankles before unclipping the chain that kept her attached to the bed, though he left the cuffs on.

“Let’s get you dressed, little bird.”

She didn’t fight him as he pulled her up from the bed or when left her standing in the middle of the room her hands still cuffed together. He knew better than to leave her completely unrestrained. This wasn’t their first rodeo. She’d be more than happy to take off down the twisting halls of the house if he gave her the chance, but it was harder to escape from him if she was still bound, and it was better to see what he wanted before she made her escape. Taehyung would eventually start a game that would lead to her eventual freedom. He liked games.

He returned moments later with a long black dress in hand.

She didn’t argue or fight when he uncuffed her handed or when he stripped her of the strap of cloth he called a bra. Even if the dress was revealing, it had to be better than the lingerie he had provided.

She was right. The dress was revealing, but so were most of the clothes that Taehyung had forced her into over the years. This dress wasn’t the worst of them. The material was soft and silky against her skin leaving her back completely left exposed to the air. The top wrapped around her neck before diving down into a deep v ending just before her belly button. Not even her legs were left covered. There was a slit up the side leaving the entirety of her left leg exposed. But overall it was still better than the lingerie. Anything was better than the lingerie.

What surprised her was that Taehyung had removed the collar. He loved that collar almost to the point that she would call it a fixation, but she supposed that it didn’t match the aesthetic of the evening gown.

She allowed him to seat her on a long ottoman as he pulled her hair back in a sleek pony tail, and gave her a pair of earrings to match. They trailed down from her lobes in a line of stones that ended just at her jaw. She was dressed far too nicely for dinner with her worst enemy, but what choice did she have? It was always best to cooperate until he made his intentions for the evening clear.

He led her through the twisting halls of the house until they came to the overly ornate dining room. She never understood why the house was so sumptuously decorated. She’d seen it during the many times she had run through the halls in many failed attempts to get away from the psychopath that made her life hell. It wasn’t as though he lived in the house. She’d figured that out pretty quickly. The house was completely unlived in. She didn’t know where he lived, but it wasn’t here.

He seated her at the table before going out to get the meal he had had prepared for them. Taehyung wasn’t much for cooking, but he found that the staff at Namjoon’s estate were more than willing to work with him, and they did a far better job of it than he could. He would have asked Jin to do it knowing that his hyung was an excellent cook, but Jin had been busy preparing for the journey to go and retrieve Namjoon’s wife. She’d finally been located in some dingy little village in Italy. More than that, she’d been found in the final stages of a pregnancy that could only have been Namjoon’s doing. His hyung was as ecstatic as he was angry to find her. He knew that Namjoon had always wanted to be a father, but it had to hurt knowing that his wife had run off with one of his enemies and was peacefully playing house with them. It didn’t matter though. Namjoon would have her and the baby home in no time just like Taehyung would have Aerie home where she belonged at long last.

They both remained silent for the beginning of the meal as they both cut into the steaks that Namjoon’s chef had prepared, but eventually, she couldn’t take the anticipation anymore, though she hated being the first one to crack.

“Why am I here?” She asked setting aside her cutlery as she stared him down from across the table.

“Can’t I just miss you?” He teased setting aside his own utensils. He chuckled seeing the completely unamused expression on her face. “No. You wouldn’t believe that would you? I have a proposition for you.”

“So you’ve said.” She grumbled crossing her arms under her breasts.

“I’ve enjoyed our games, baby. I really have, but I’ve grown tired of them.” He drawled leaning back dramatically with a long suffering sigh. “I want to put an end to them.”

He could see her brighten up at that staring at him with interest. “You’re going to let me go?”

He laughed at that finding her suggestion amusing. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I want to play one last game. If you win, I’ll let you go, for good.”

“And if I lose?” She asked her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“You come with me willingly. You surrender, be mine.” As she stiffened her mouth set in a thin line of dread, Taehyung couldn’t help but smile. “No more running. No more games. As simple as that.”

“And why would I agree to that?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You don’t really have a choice. I could always take you by force.”  

“Like you haven’t before?” She scoffed her gaze taking on a hard, bitter edge.

“One last game.” He assured her even though he didn’t have any intention of playing fair. She didn’t need to know that though.

She eyed him weighing her options. On the one hand, he could be lying, but on the slim chance that he was telling the truth, she would be free of him. She’d never have to worry about him lurking in the shadows at every moment. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had been free of him. It would be like the sun coming out of months of rain, but there was a much greater chance that Taehyung was lying. It could just be another twisted part of his games, one designed to crush her hopes.  But on the off chance that he was actually telling the truth, that the offer was genuine, she had to take it.

“Fine.” She agreed reluctantly. “What kind of game do you have in mind?” She asked even as she began to wonder if this was the right move after all. She knew better than to underestimate him. She even had a few small scars as a reminder of that. 

A feral grin spread across his face as he registered her agreement. She didn’t trust that grin. It never preceded anything good. It was too manic as was the light in his eyes. They always shone too bright whenever he got excited, but his excitement always brought her pain. Even though his eyes were shining with that disconcerting glee, they were dark. It was like two black holes staring back at her ready to suck her into his madness. 

“You remember the mazes. Don’t you, little bird?”

A grimace spread across her features, but she nodded. She had extensive experience with the mazes that surrounded the house. They were Taehyung’s favorite game. He’d set her loose in them to run like a scared rabbit. Each time they were different, and she hated them more than anything. They were as dehumanizing as they were unfair. They changed even as she was in them. The walls moved at their master’s bidding, confusing and turning her around through the endless halls of greenery. 

“I remember.” 

“You’re aware by now that there is more than one maze.” He began leaning forward gleefully. Of course she knew. She had tried more than once to slip through the gates that separated the different parts of the labyrinth. “All three sections will be available to you tonight. I’ll give you a twenty minute head start before I follow you in.” 

That caught her attention in the worst sort of way. Taehyung hardly ever entered the maze. She could only recall him doing it once before when she’d fallen and twisted her ankle rather badly after trying to scale one of the hedges. He preferred to watch and taunt from the cameras and speakers hidden throughout the infernal maze. 

Her new found hesitance didn’t seem to deter him though. He continued with just as much enthusiasm as before. “If you can make it out of the maze before dawn, you win,” His grin got even wider excitement coursing through his veins. “But if you fail to solve the maze or I catch you before your time is over, you’re mine.” 

It seemed simple enough, but nothing was ever simple when it came to Taehyung, and this would be the first time that he had actively hunted her through the maze. While she would have the whole of the labyrinth at her disposal, Taehyung still held an unfair advantage. They were his mazes. He knew them far better than she did despite the many times she had run through the mazes. He made sure to change them before she ran a particular section again. She had no idea how large the full Maze would actually be or what sort of traps he had laid for her within it. 

“As simple as that?” She asked slowly, skeptically. 

In the past, if she could complete or beat his game, she was free to go. He would even have some faceless driver take her back to the city where she would run as far as she could as fast as she could even though she knew he would find her again. She had no more desilusiones of being able to hide from him permanently. It was the whole reason she had decided to agree to this despite the unfair odds. It was a chance for complete freedom. 

“As simple as that, little bird.” He purred dark eyes boring into her. “Shall we?” 

He was more than eager to begin. The sooner they started, the sooner she would be in his arms. He had everything prepared for her. 

He’d moved into the house that Namjoon had provided in the vicinity of the main estate. With Hoseok, Jin, Yoongi, and Namjoon all starting families of their own, Namjoon had formed a sort of gated community surrounding the main estate. There was a house for each of them. Hoseok had taken Iyla from the main estate to settle her into her new home before Namjoon and Jin returned with Y/N. Yoongi and his little family had moved into their designated house as well. Sen was thrilled with the space for their son to run around in, and Taehyung could hardly wait to fill his own house with little ones. They’d have to start right away once he took her home. He wanted a big family after all. They’d have to start soon if they were going to meet his goals. 

She nodded stiffly standing up from her chair. It was better to get it over with whether she was going to win or lose. If she won, it was all the better to have her freedom sooner. If she lost, it was better not to have her hopes up for too long. It would only prolong her heartache.

She was quick to leave the heels that had been foisted on her at the door. They would do her no good in the maze. Heels never worked well on the soft ground and the grass. They would only slow her down. If she was going to fail, she preferred it be because she had failed to solve the maze than give Taehyung the added satisfaction of catching her himself.

She was about to head into the maze through the entrance Taehyung had led her to when he pulled her back by the wrist. The jolt sent her flying back into his chest much to his delight.

“I’m giving you your head start, but I’ll see you soon.” She was going to bite back with an acerbic response, but Taehyung cut her off with a searing kiss, one she wanted to immediately wipe away, but that would have only served to make him angry, and she had no time to waste.

Without a word to him, she hiked up her skirts, disappearing into the maze.  Twenty minutes wasn’t a long time, and she had to make the best of it or regret it later.

She had never had the entirety of the maze open to her, and it made her apprehensive. Even one section of the maze was hard enough to master, let alone all three of them. Trick walls and dead ends littered the halls, and Taehyung always made sure that each time she entered the hedges that she’d find them just as difficult.

She rushed through the paths cursing the dress that Taehyung had dressed her up in. The slit at least provided her with free movement, but only the demon that was Kim Taehyung would force her to run a maze in an evening gown. He was over dramatic like that.

Another thing to curse was the abundance of dead ends that thwarted her at seemingly every turn. They forced her to back track far more often than she would have liked or was prudent. No matter where she turned, it seemed like she was only going in circles. As much as she hated him, she had to admit that he had pulled out all the stops for their final game.  

Taehyung had retreated into the house to wait out the twenty minutes before he could follow his little bird into the maze. Logically, he knew it wasn’t long to wait, but the anticipation made the minutes stretch on into eternity. He passed the time watching her on his phone. The cameras gave him an unfair advantage, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was more than happy to watch her wear herself out. He had always kept the maze at least somewhat fair, but he wasn’t willing to give her that advantage this time. He had promised her that if she could escape the labyrinth before dawn, she would be free, but there was no escape. The only exits lead straight back to the house, and making it back to the house did not count as solving the maze.

He knew it was unfair, but it didn’t matter. He was tired of waiting, and she would be his whether she liked it or not. This at least gave her the illusion of a chance. There would be no escaper for her.

When the twenty minutes had past, Taehyung took to the maze, leisurely strolling down its paths as he trailed after his prize. He had the advantage of his little spies and the trick walls. He could herd her however he liked with those. He had the entire labyrinth at his fingertips, and she would never even know. Or perhaps she would. She was a clever little bird, and he wouldn’t put it past her to have figured it out. It was one of the many things he loved about his little bird.

With every step he was brought closet to her, he made sure of it. Doors were strategically closed guiding her towards dead ends and herding her back towards him. There was no need for him to strain himself. His poor Aerie was going to be exhausted before the evening was over, but that wouldn’t stop her from putting up a fight. He expected he’d have to carry her back to the house whether it was because she refused to come or from sheer exhaustion. It didn’t matter to him. She’d be in his arms either way.

It was easy to catch up to her with how much backtracking his meddling had forced her to do, but Taehyung wasn’t finished playing yet.

“Give up, little bird!” He called out knowing she was just on the other side of the hedge. “I’m going to find you!” A grin spread across his features as he heard the sound of her taking off further into the maze.

Perfect. She was headed directly to the center of the maze. He’d catch her there, and even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be long until he caught her, not when he could see her every move.

“Come out, come out where ever you are!” He trilled out turning a corner and catching the faintest glimpse of her ankle as she ran around a different corner.

“Wouldn’t it be so much easier just to give up?” He cooed driving her further into the maze. It would be easier to subdue her when she was tired, and with the way she had been running around, she was bound to be exhausted. “I know you’re tired, little bird.” He sang catching another glimpse of her turning a corner. “You’ve done so well, but it’s time to go home. Don’t you want to go home, little bird?”

Her heart was pounding against her chest as she ran further into the maze. Taehyung’s words hounded her every step pushing her forward as panic coursed through her veins. Even if she was going to lose, she wasn’t going to go willingly. He’d have to drag her back. And with every step she was regretting her decision to run the maze. It felt less like a chance and more as if he was toying with her. He was always toying with her.

“Come on, little bird!” He called again drawing nearer excitement coursing through him as he pushed her towards the end game.

She burst through the path and into what had to be the center of the maze. There was a fountain there and two other paths leading out, but just as she made to run towards one of them, a gate slammed shut. She made for the other path only for the same thing to happen. There was only one way out, and she could hear Taehyung coming down that path calling out to her.

“No!” She shrieked pulling at the wrought iron of the gate trying to force it open, but it was no use. The door wouldn’t budge.

“Awww,” she could hear her tormenters deep voice coo, far too close by for comfort. “It looks like you’re trapped, little bird.”

She whirled around to face him eyes wide and chest heaving. “You cheated.” She hissed hands gripping the bars behind her as though to stabilize herself.

“I never said I wouldn’t.” He shrugged strolling towards her. “Game over.”

“You cheated!” She snarled again though her back was pressed against the bars in the hope that she’d somehow slip through them A foolish hope. He wouldn’t allow her to escape, not now.

He held out a hand to her smiling brightly as he beckoned her forward. “Come along, little bird. It’s time to go home.”

[piratesfromspace]

Two saviors and some hope

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Cobb Vanth x Reader

Summary: You've been captured to be sold as a slave. But two men clad in beskar armors cross your path. Maybe this means there's some hope. Set after ep 1 of season 2, canon-divergent.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, alcohol, slavery (but reader is free pretty early in the fic), light smut (threesome). Rated explicit.

A/N: Neutral pronouns for reader. English is not my native language, please be kind. I’m really happy to share this short fic with a rare pairing, hope you’ll like it! Fic also available on ao3. 

“Move! Faster, I might miss a client” the abhorrent creature tugging at your chains croaks. You are trying to keep up behind him as best as you can. But with the chains linking your ankles and your wrists, it isn’t an easy task. Especially since you are barefoot in the burning sand of this barren planet. The scorching heat of its two suns is just aggravating your ordeal. The blue-skinned Chiss that is your captor and you soon arrive at the destination he was so eager to reach. A small town and its market. If the previous remark had left you with very little doubt about his intentions for you, it was now even more clear that he indeed has planned on selling you.

“Here, that’s perfect. On the ground, sit, slave.” His order comes with a hard tug on the chains between your wrists, and your knees fall on the compacted sand of the marketplace. You raise your head in a poor sign of defiance, looking at the slave trader. He puts his backpack down at his feet and rubs one of his shoulders. Despite his human-like figure, he is way stronger than expected. Clad in some sort of beige toga, he could easily be mistaken for a simple merchant, but you have learned the hard way he is a hunter as well. The anxiety slowly gnawing at the edge of your mind is becoming more and more hard to ignore with every second. You close your eyes, breathing through your nose and trying to calm yourself. A freaking slave. He has called you a freaking slave, and is about to sell you as one. In those forsaken parts of the galaxy, slavery is apparently still a thing and no one would come looking for you. Even if everything happened in a blur, you know the small village where you were finally living a simple life after a troubled childhood has been destroyed by the Chiss and his friends? Colleagues? Regardless of who they all were, your situation is the same. He has taken you and decided to make a quick buck by bringing you to the first market on the closest planet he could find.

But you can’t resign yourself. Maybe if you run fast enough you could hide yourself somewhere? Find a way to destroy those chains and escape from your grim future. It’s now or never. You take a deep breath and you push as hard as you can on your legs, soaring, ready to run. But as soon as you're up, you barely have taken your first step, that the Chiss grabs your upper arm and yanks you towards him. His grip is cruel and his fingers dig deep in your skin, likely to leave nasty bruises there. You let out a scream, but the air is pushed out of your lungs when he kicks you in the back of your knee, your legs buckling beneath you. You fall again on the ground and you try to soften your landing with your hands, but the chains prevent you from really succeeding.

“Pathetic.” you hear him mutter, slightly shaking his head. You want to disappear. You’re huddled in the sand, your knees and arms hurting, your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t want to raise your eyes and meet his again. Around you, the market is bustling with life, people happily chatting and loudly bargaining cheap items. Though it looks like your little scene has attracted a few surprised glances and hushed conversations. You close your eyes again, wincing from the waves of pain creeping from most of your body. You’re taken out of your suffering-induced trance when you hear heavy footsteps coming close to you and the Chiss greeting someone with his sketchy smooth voice. “Hello gentlemen, do you need a servant? I’m sure this one will be perfect for your…” He hasn’t the time to finish his sentence, because the tallest of the two armored men standing in front of you aims his blaster on the chest of the Chiss without any warning. “What are you doing here, slaver scum?” “I.. what do you…” the Chiss stutters.

“There are only free people in this town, and this is gonna stay that way as long as I’m the Marshal here. So you’re going to release this person and get away from this place as quick as you can. And I’m not gonna ask you twice.”

Your mind is slowly processing what’s happening, and you watch more closely at your two saviors. They’re both clad in beskar armor, one shiny, one painted in red and green, the traditional helmets of the Mandalorians safely hiding their faces. You’ve heard of them of course, the intriguing tribe is well known where you used to live. And it is also well known it is a bad idea to mess with them.

There is a moment of tension. The Chiss seems to be gauging if he can win a fight against the two Mandalorians, or if there is any way he can turn the situation to his advantage. The smaller warrior, the one with the shiny armor, moves a hand on his blaster and slightly shifts in his position, making clear he’s not afraid to shoot if necessary. Anger crosses the face of the blue-skinned man and he pinches his lips in a disgusted pout before speaking. “Alright, no need to be so menacing. I’ll leave, but I can’t let my property here, they’ll come with me.” He collects his bag and pretends to be leaving, tugging on your chains for you to get up. “I think you don’t understand”, the smaller Mandalorian finally speaks for the first time, “they’re not your property, and they will stay here.”. He’s very calm but determined and the modulator filtering his voice gives an even more terrifying tone to the veiled threat. His blaster is now in his hand, casually aiming to the Chiss.

With two blasters now facing him, your captor has very little choice. He lets out a nervous sight and reaches inside his pocket to find the magnetic key to your chains. He reluctantly presses it against your ankles and then your wrists, freeing you from the vicious bite of the metal around your limbs. The discarded shackles tumble in the sand with a soft clatter. Free. You’re free.

“You don’t know who you’re insulting Mandalorians…” you heard him muttering under his breath before quickly leaving the marketplace, under the scrutinizing looks of the nearby crowd. You’re still in shock of what just happened. The world is becoming a blur around you, the ambient noise turning into a high pitch sound in your ears, you feel like you’re gonna lose your footing.

“Hey… can you hear me? you ok?” a gentle touch on your shoulder and two brown eyes with a kind look prevent you from totally fainting, bringing you back to reality. The taller Mandalorian has removed his helmet and is watching you. A concerned smile crossing his face. The information makes your brain glitch. Mandalorians are not supposed to remove their helmet, ever.. But you don’t have the time to dwell on this puzzling news, because the second warrior reminds you of a more pressing issue: “Did he plant a chip? In your neck? Or your back maybe? Do you remember?” “Yes…yes, in the middle of my back I think.” “Shit.”

--------

The table in the center of the modest living room is swiped free of the few bowls and trinkets placed there. The Mandalorian is carefully lying you on it, instructing you to turn on your belly. He loses no time, tearing the thin fabric of your tunic to expose your back. The Marshal comes back from another room, hurrying, with a medkit in his hands. “Din! I think there’s a scalpel vibroblade in here, but I couldn’t find any anesthetic.” The helmeted warrior, Din, doesn’t lose his calm and pulls out the scalpel from the kit.

“I’m sorry, but we must remove it now, before this son-of-a-Kath-hound dares to make it explode.” he says, his helmet turned toward you.

You hear the Marshal searching in the kitchen for something, frantically opening cabinet doors. “Here, you can bite on this.” a clean cloth is finally shoved into your hands and you bring it to your mouth, sinking your teeth in the fabric and steeling yourself for what’s to come. The gloved hand of the Mandalorian is feeling each bone of your spine, looking for the exact location of the chip. He’s fast, methodical, like he’s done this before. His hand suddenly stops a couple inches below your neck. “Found it. It’s gonna hurt. You can scream if it helps.” He turns to the other man “It’s best if you hold them still. Safer this way.” One powerful hand grabs your neck, gentle but firm, while another one presses on the small of your back, making sure you won’t move too much and hurt yourself. The Marshal has removed his gloves, and the feeling of its warm callused hands against your exposed skin is somehow weirdly comforting. Your fingers clench hard on the table’s edge when the blade sinks into your flesh, you squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a growl through your gritted teeth around the cloth. The pain is radiating in all your back, you want to move, to escape the awful sensation although you know it’s for your own good. You can feel the droplets of blood trickling down your sides, ending on the table, forming little puddles soon staining the front of your tunic. The feeling of the blade moving so close to your spine makes your head spin and when you open your eyes, blacks spots are filling your vision. You let go of the edge of the table, your fingers going numb. “I think they’re gonna faint.” the Marshal warns Din. “I’m almost done...” A metallic clatter can be heard as the Mandalorian lets the chip fall inside a cup. “Just need to close the wound now. You’re good.” You’re doing your best to stay awake, removing the cloth from your mouth with a feeble hand to try and take some deep breaths. The process of closing the deep cut in your back is nowhere near pleasant, but at least the menace of the chip blowing up your spine is gone. “It’s done. I just need to apply some bacta.” “No” your voice is wrecked, the tone slightly desperate. “No bacta. I want the scar to stay.” “It’s your call.” Din simply states.

The hands against your back are lifted and the Marshal reappears in your visual field. He fetches a bottle and a cup, and when the Mandalorian finally gives you the permission to sit up, he offers you a glass of an unknown blue liquid. “For the pain.” he says with a smile. It smells funny but you gulp the thing down, and while it burns your throat a little, its heat is welcome. You feel your muscles relax a bit thanks to the alcohol. “Thank you.” His brows furrow while he looks at you. You must look like a mess. Your tunic ripped open in the back, stained with your own blood, your skin coated in sand and sweat, your short hair messier than ever. “I’ll try to find you new clothes.” Behind you, the Mandalorian is trying to clean the blade and the mess you all made. You feel very self-conscious all of a sudden, realizing you’re half naked, alone on a planet you don't know, with two strangers, no money and no weapon, not even a proper garment on your back. You wrap your arms around you, making sure the torn fabric doesn’t expose you more than it does. But the move makes you wince when you unwittingly touch the bruises left by the Chiss on your upper arms. The Marshal frowns even more. “Is there a refresher I can use?” you ask tentatively. “Yeah sure” he seems a bit surprised by your request “Over here, the sonic works and there might even be some water left.” he answers nonetheless, while gesturing toward the small corridor at the other side of the room.

You don’t wait for any more explanation, jump from the table, and almost run to the refresher, locking the door behind you. A thousand thoughts are spiralling inside your head. You let the water run and step inside the shower, trying to wash away the dirt, the pain and the anguish.

------

Days have passed since your encounter with Din and Cobb (as you learned their names were). One true Mandalorian, the other not so much. But both are men of honor - or at least they seem to be. Truth be said, you don’t care that much about honor, as long as they’re nice to you. Cobb is letting you live in his home, and you have a small room all to yourself. You don’t see him a lot since he’s always somewhere else taking care of some sort of problem or quarrel. He’s not a bad roommate and he doesn't ask a lot from you. And Din is living in his ship he brought back from Mos Eisley. Well you’ve learned pretty quickly that sometimes Din is also some kind of roommate for Cobb, in the sense that they literally share the same bedroom. They’re not very open about their relationship but they don’t try to hide it at all costs either, and you’re grateful for the trust they put into you.

It’s quite fascinating to see them together. Cobb, tall and bold, a mischievous smile always plastered on his face, his silver hair and beard highlighting a strong jaw, high cheekbones and kind dark eyes. Din is more of the introvert type, smaller, definitely more muscular, his helmet always on, although you can easily tell when there is a smile or a worry in his voice. You’ve seen them fight together against some outlaws once or twice, and you had been mesmerized by their dynamic and synchronicity. You don’t know much about them, and they don’t ask much about you, and it’s fine this way for each of you three. The only thing still bugging your mind is the reason why they chose to help you, but the small green alien baby the Mandalorian is fostering indicates an overprotective instinct you’re glad to be benefiting from. And Cobb is visibly on the same track, even more so, demonstrating a contained anger each time you mention past abuse, regularly scolding himself for having let the Chiss leave alive.

Actually you’re glad to stay at their sides and to receive their attention. They’ve been careful around you, especially the first couple days, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or to scare you. As time passed, they both showed more openly their attachment to you and you welcomed their friendliness. But lately, you’ve caught yourself wanting more, waiting impatiently for Cobb’s return or for Din’s visit, a weird feeling coiling into your chest and your belly when you caught a glimpse of Din’s skin between his helmet and his scarf, a sudden blush on your cheeks when you run into Cobb getting out of the fresher, wearing just pants, hair still damp and shimmering in the soft light of the morning. Despite your best efforts to lie to yourself, it’s pretty clear now that you’re falling for them, both of them.

It’s twisted, you’re well aware, and sometimes you’re wondering which part of your fucked up past is to blame for this. But torturing yourself searching for answers doesn’t make the crave for their attention and touch go away, on the contrary.

While you’re getting more and more settled into your new life, the scars of the previous ones are still present. Nightmares. The ghosts of past wounds. You try your best to hide it from Din and Cobb, you don’t want to bother them with your traumas, when they already have their very own ones to deal with.

One night, the ghost pain of the removal of the chip comes back. You suspect in saving your life, Din had unfortunately touched a few nerves. It hurts all along your spine, up into your skull, keeps you wide awake despite your tiredness. You roll into your bed, unable to sleep, tears of exhaustion forming in the corner of your eyes. You finally get up, looking for the new pain-killer you know Cobb keeps in the unit next to his bed. After your little improvised surgery on his kitchen table, he had felt the need to purchase some, just in case. He’s not home yet, despite the late hour, but you’re not worried. Not unusual for him to have a weird schedule. You find what you’re looking for, small greenish beads safely stored in a glass jar. You swallow two of them, fighting against the waves of pain each of your movement is sending into your body. With just a few seconds, the medication kicks in, a warm feeling settling inside of your muscles, easing your agony away. You feel your mind drifting pleasantly, your eyelids heavy. You barely have the time to take a few steps back and fall on Cobb’s bed before you blank out.

You wake up in a gasp, sitting up immediately, all your senses on the alert. There is someone in the room. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” you can guess Cobb’s silhouette in the door frame. He’s just wearing the light pants and tunic he usually sleeps in. “I’m gonna go sleep in the living room.” he adds with a soft voice. It’s still dark outside, you weren’t out for very long, but visibly long enough for him to come back and find you in his bed.

“Sorry.” You don’t know how to explain why you ended here, you’re just relieved to see he’s not upset with you. “You don’t need... I… Can I…” you stutters, having trouble to find what you really want to ask. “You can finish your night here, no big deal.” he sounds tired but caring. “Stay with me. I mean, if you want to”. You answer without thinking about the consequences, not knowing if it’s the uninhibiting effect of the drug or something else.

You see his shoulders rise just a little, he’s surprised although he doesn’t say anything, and just climbs onto the bed as you shift to make room for him. You’re glad he stays silent, the situation being awkward enough as it is. The mattress is wide enough for two persons, but after a few moments, you press yourself against his body in your half-sleep, subconsciously searching for his warmth. When his arm gently wraps over you, he asks in a whisper if it's ok, and when you clutch his hand tighter against your chest, he takes that as a yes. You fall in a deep restful sleep, the best you had in a long time.

It becomes a little habit, everytime you feel the pain in your back or when nightmares wake you up in the middle of the night. Din knows about it obviously. He’s not angry at you, or Cobb. He understands, and you even recon he’s becoming more and more protective around you. Days turn into weeks, and while it’s nice to sleep in Cobb’s arms and to get renewed attention from Din, it doesn’t really help with your complicated feelings.

One afternoon, you’re heading back home early, and as you enter the living room, noises coming from Cobb’s bedroom make your heart miss a beat. Soft moans, deep voices whispering dirty words and the sound of flesh on flesh. You’re clearly not supposed to be here at this time of day, not supposed to witness whatever is going on. A hand on your mouth, you retreat to your room as quietly as possible, close the door shut and try to calm your erratic breathing. You spend the rest of the day locked up, too embarrassed to dare going out and to risk bumping into them. You don’t really know why, it’s not like it’s a dangerous secret that they’re fucking each other. You guess it has more to do with your own guilty desires than with them.

The very next day, you’re all enjoying a drinking party at the local cantina. The spotchka is burning your inside delightfully, Cobb is telling funny stories from his past and the small crowd gathered around your booth is laughing, unbridled. It’s hard to tell if Din is enjoying himself since he can’t drink in public but you suspect he has taken his share of the blue alcohol before coming here. His gloved hand is casually resting on Cobb’s thigh under the table top, an unusual demonstration of affection. The night is well advanced when the three of you leave the cantina. You’re expecting them to go straight to Din’s ship but they follow you into Cobb’s home, exchanging teasing jokes and clever quips. As you make your way toward your own room, Cobb catches your wrist. “Stay with us. I mean, if you want to.” he offers, using your own words from the other night, smiling without malice. Your eyes dart to Din, silently asking for his consent and he nods slowly.

You all land on Cobb’s bed, and before you dare ask about the helmet situation, Din makes sure the blinds on the windows are perfectly shut, and switches off the light. The soft clatter of beskar against the floor makes it clear he has removed his helmet, his face impossible to see in the complete darkness of the room. You’re in awe of the trust he puts into you. You could easily mess with him and try some tricks to see how he looks, even though you have no intention to do so. You’re too tired to really think further about it, and you decide to just embrace the gentleness of the moment, cuddling up against Cobb like you’re used to. Except this time you can feel Din’s arm wrapped around the Marshal’s body and it makes your heart flutter with a joy you wouldn’t have dared to dream of.

You’re awakened by Cobb shifting against you in his sleep. You feel well rested and despite the lack of light thanks to the thick blinds, you conclude it’s probably late in the morning. The body against your back moves again, and you feel Cobb’s breath against your shaved nape. “Good morning sunshine” he says before planting a kiss there. Your breath hitches in your throat. “You ok?” he whispers, concerned. “Yeah, just… Can you... do that again?” He chuckles and his lips find your neck again. Taking his time, leaving small kisses up to your cheek. You feel a familiar heat building really quickly between your legs. His hands are on your waist, feeling good and warm on the exposed skin between your shirt and your shorts. You’re closing your eyes, savoring the sensation when Cobb unexpectedly lets out a laugh. “Well, hello Din…” “What? I thought I could join.” Din mutters between two kisses on Cobb’s neck. Before you can say anything, you find yourself between them, night clothes soon discarded after you answer positively when they ask you if this is fine, muscular bodies pressed against you from both sides. They kiss every inch of your skin and and at some point, Din grabs your hand and places it gently on his face, giving you permission to trace his features in the dark. You feel a chiseled jawline and a two-day stubble, soft lips and a strong nose, small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes forming there when he smiles. You keep on touching his forehead, up until you find the soft curls of his hair. You guess he must be a few years older than you, surely a bit younger than Cobb. But it doesn’t really matter, and the question disappears when you feel his lips on yours.

You relinquish yourself to the mind-blowing feeling. Even your wildest fantasies weren’t this good. You lose track of how many times you come undone under Din’s skilled fingers and Cobb’s hungry mouth. And when Din finally sinks into you and Cobb sinks into him, your heart misses a few more beats, your bodies moving in perfect sync, making you go over the edge one more time.

It must be late in the day, because you start to be really thirsty. “I’ll go fetch some water” Cobb offers, and when he’s back from the kitchen with the cups, you and him respectfully turn your back to Din to let him drink before he has the chance to put his helmet back on.

When it’s your turn to head for the refresher, you let the water run and step inside the shower, just like you did for the first time a few weeks ago. There is a difference though. Today, there sure is some dirt to wash away, but the pain and the anguish, they are already gone.

[blu-bary]

I’m literally trying to write a fic I really want to write but my brain can’t come up with ideas so enjoy a list of me explaining how Minecraft, the dsmp, and everything involved with both could be explained in my own little way.

Ok so it starts out in the year 2035

Everything on earth has gone to shit

The economy is destroyed, wars are rampaging, complete CHAOS

Every living thing on that planet is miserable. So the gods have a say

Yes, in my little head canon the Greek gods are real, this would explain all the Greek mythology references in the dsmp story line ex: Tommy and Theseus, The code names for the syndicate, you get the vibe

The gods can all agree that earth and the entire universe in general could use a redo…. well every god except the lord of chaos

He loves the way things are going, and he doesn’t want things to change. But who is he to defy the entire counsel of the 12 olympians. So he bides his times and waits

Now the gods have completely redone the world by now and these are the changes they done.

Instead of humans who have free will, they have villagers, nice little things who are “programmed” to do what the gods want them to do

Instead of continents dividing living things, they make biomes so every living thing can be accommodated in a way

And they let the humans survive all of this, because they’ll eventually die off, no human can survive these changes right? Right??

After all of the gods hard work, they decide to celebrate by having a huge party hosted at Olympus, with every god and titan in attendance!

But, the lord of chaos has other plans, so while all the gods bask in their ignorance, he sets off to his plan.

The first thing he changed about the new world is the villagers. They will now have a natural enemy, the pillagers, and their home is not so easy to find..

Next, he floods any living civilization from the old world (or our world as we know it) to create a new species, the drowned. Their homes are now guarded by vicious monsters who use the energy around them into lasers that will melt the flesh right off of you.

Then, he adds the monsters. Vial creatures that haunt the world day and night, creating chaos and inviting fear into any survived heart.

After that, he lets humans have a way into the underworld by crafting a special portal. He tells the villagers it’s called “The Nether”, hoping the villagers will tell the humans and use their curiosity against them.

He takes away most essential tools we have in our old world, only allowing certain things for us to own, stripping us of all modern technologies.

And finally, he makes the world infinite, so that if you somehow found yourself on the other side of the world, so far away from your loved one, you’ll never find them again.

And by the time the gods notice his defilement, it’s too late

The damage is done and it cannot be reversed

So, the gods decided to punish him with the only thing a god can fear, mortality

They strip him of his role of gods of chaos and send him down to earth for him to now live in this hellish land he created (they also send him down as a newborn near an orphanage)

Now the gods feel some guilt about what happened with the new world so they decide to do the only thing they can, the grant each human 3 lives so that they stand a chance in this new world.

Yeah so that’s basically it. If you have any questions, my inbox is always open and I’m sure this sounds confusing in some way. Also, i have explanations for hybrids, sally, and loads of other lore so if you wanna see that just come in the ask box and ask

Alright that’s all, have a lovely day people :)

[artyblogs]

What are your Ahsoka headcanons? Also do you have any Togruta headcanons? We don’t really know a bunch about their species so it’ll be cool to see your view on them.

I meant to answer this a long time ago. I’m so sorry Anon. Hopefully, it’s worth the wait.

For those on desktop, there’s more under the cut. For those on mobile, my condolences.

So according to some sources that I don’t care to look up right now, Togruta language sounds like bird noises, or they just really like birds, and this detail alone is what I base all of my Togruta headcanons around. Shili is full of all kinds of birds of paradise, of all sizes, in all habitats, and all of them are revered by Togruta. All Togruta languages sounds like bird sounds, but different dialects sound like different bird calls entirely. Because Togruta kits are functionally deaf, there is a sign-language mode that incorporates both lek movements and hand movements.

Related to this: Walking through Shili cities, or through Togruta ethnic enclaves, is to be subjected through a glorious raucous of birdcalls.

Those who traditionally studied birds, who knew how to trap and release them humanely, who protected bird habitats and knew how to harvest feathers sustainably, who know how to sing traditional Togruta epics, are called Birdsong Priests and Priestesses, and are religious leaders in Togruta culture. Modern Ornithology is taught in universities, but the field is split between scientists, and the clergy class.

Birds are considered sacred because they can fly back and forth between the land and the sky. Thus, their feathers are considered sacred too. Featherwork features prominently in Togruta cultural artifacts, and can be found in regalia worn by traditional dancers, to feather standards and religious paraphernalia used in ceremonies, to headdresses and articles of clothing worn by all members of society. Sky blue feathers are reserved for the royal family only (anyone else caught using them face...consequences), and darker blue feathers for the nobility and aristocracy, but all other colors can be used by everyone else.

Speaking of traditional dancers, lots of Togruta traditional and cultural dances resemble the dances done by the birds of paradise. Because Togruta montrals are sensitive to gongs and sounds from metal instruments, traditional instruments are made of wood. There are lots of wooden drums and flutes. Dances are performed for all sorts of reasons, and religious dances are performed by the Birdsong clergy or are performed under their direction because they accompany a birdsong chant.

In addition to feathers, traditional clothes are woven through specially processed red and white ti grasses found all over Shili. These natural fibers paired with the pigments found in the soil of Shili make for especially pretty cloths stamped with geometric patterns. These patterns are inspired by the shapes of nature, like mountains, rivers, akul teeth, lek and montral patterns, etc.

(You probably suspect by now that a lot of my headcanons for Togruta culture is inspired by cultures found throughout Polynesia. This assumption is correct.)

Traditional Togruta weapons are made of akul teeth bound to carved pieces of native wood. Togruta martial arts are especially mean and vicious, and are not for the faint of heart.

Now for Togruta biology. Besides the birds, almost everything else on Shili has evolved to be the most dangerous creatures possible, and Togruta are no exception. Togruta bones, nails, and teeth are denser than most species’, their frames are packed with muscle, and runty adults still hit 6′0″ not including their montrals (I headcanon Ahsoka to be about 6′0″ without montrals). They have a special coating of cells at the back of their eyes that reflects light and allows them to see in very low light. Togruta are obligate carnivores, so they eat a lot of meat.

There’s seafood, pork, bantha, poultry, etc (obviously, they don’t eat birds of paradise lol). Togruta eat meat raw (their systems can handle it) and they also barbecue. Togruta barbecue is incredibly popular and tasty, and there are chains all over the galaxy.

Akuls are more reclusive than popularly believed; they tend to avoid civilization as much as possible. The akuls that do get hunted are old/sick/injured/desperate akuls that cannot hunt for themselves anymore, so they start killing people. When problem akuls pop up, locals of proper age just gear up and go out to get rid of it, and they happen to bring the kits that are old enough to learn how to defend the village/town/neighborhood. When the akul’s brought down, these kits get teeth for their headdresses. Akul hunts aren’t a solo thing as depicted in popular culture (holonet shows and holomovies).

Royalty and aristocracy Togruta usually reach 7′0″ and over. I personally headcannon Shaak Ti as 7′2″ (at least. She is TALL). She insists that she isn’t a chief, but whenever she visits Shili and Kiros, she’s called “Chief Ti” anyway. The King of Shili sent her a feather standard with dark blue feathers that she loans to a Coruscanti museum, where it’s on display.

Some history: The first king of Shili started as chief from one of the more powerful tribes. He envisioned a united and strong Shili to better politically maneuver through the oncoming Galactic Republic, so with the blessing of his birdsong priests, he waged war across the planet and won his crown (you know, as most incoming dynasties do). The current King of Shili is his great-great grandson, and he’s actually the most progressive king that Shili has ever had (not progressive as in like... pacifist though. He’s not a toothless fool lol).

This leads me to politics: Governor Roshti of Kiros was considered an odd one by Shili standards. While most Shili Togruta subscribe to "sheathed knife” politics, Roshti announced that the people of Kiros will employ “open hand” philosophy. After the whole Kiros colony was kidnapped by Zygerrian slavers, and was brought back only with the help of the Jedi, Roshti was quietly replaced with another governor with more “teeth.”

After the whole Kadavo debacle, the King of Shili awarded Ahsoka Tano with an honorary knighthood and Shili citizenship. This move is...controversial, because Kiros is trying to gain independence from Shili. For Shili to reward Ahsoka’s actions on behalf of Kiros, that has implications. And for Ahsoka to accept/reject this knighthood also has implications. I would like to read/write a fic that explores this (Shaak Ti comes along to serve as an advisor because she’s had more experience navigating these political waters and maybe other Jedi come too and it becomes a Three Musketeers AU? I don’t know, don’t look at me like that).

That’s all that comes to mind for now. If anyone wants to use these ideas in artwork or in fics, they’re very welcome to. Just let me know so that I can check it out too!

[moiraineswife]

Drawn In - A Witsnah Fic

IT’S TIME FOR NEW CONTENT. 

Title: Drawn In

Summary:  Pre Rhythm of War: Jasnah and Wit's first kiss. Canon compliant. It's soft and it's fluffy and a little dramatic in places (bc Wit) but it's what they deserved!!!

Teaser:   'Counter to the vicious rumours and harsh jibes, Jasnah was still human. She did not experience lust the same as others that she knew. But she was also not a frozen husk of a woman, devoid of need, or want for companionship and comfort.

A part of her longed for this connection with another person, this intimacy, this want that she increasingly found only with him.

He was dangerous, yes, but he made her feel safe. He made mock of everyone around him, but for her he made sense, and certainty, of things she’d never thought to understand. He was a roamer, a drifter, a wanderer, untethered and bound. But he was hers.'

Link: ao3

Commission Link: Have me write other cosmere characters

“So Investiture will be found on planets with one Shard or more?” Jasnah said, speaking the words aloud as she wrote them shorthand in her notebook. 

Conversing with Wit was always a stimulating process. He seemed to view each conversation as something of a duel. The chance to spar, to test his opponent, feel them out, offer them new challenges, new quips that required responses, new information that needed to be processed, new barbs to return in kind. It was invigorating. 

Lately, they had been spending more and more time together. He was the Queen’s Wit, and as such he accompanied her to most public gatherings she attended, as was proper. 

Something that was decidedly less proper, by Alethi standards, was the amount of time they were now spending together alone behind closed doors. 

Nothing untoward had happened between them. Not yet. At times she wondered if she had fabricated the impression that it could. Then she would catch a glint in his eye, the edge of a smile curving across his clever mouth, the way his eyes sometimes darted to her lips as they spoke. 

There was flirtation, too. Gentle, for the most part. He was not from this world, but he knew the Alethi well enough never to push too hard or too far. Even if she was not, strictly speaking, Vorin, the society they played within was, and there were rules that had to be abided to. 

Outside of that, she had never been one for flowery compliments, or overt, blunt attempts at seduction. They felt hollow and insincere to her, not to mention distastefully brusque. It reminded her of Amaram’s entitled insistence in his pursuit of her. She did not like being made to feel she was a hog bound at the end of a rope to lure the waiting chasmfiend. 

She preferred something altogether more subtle and cerebral than the usual Alethi courting methods. Someone who would dare to draw close to her, to tease at implications of what might, to pique her mental curiosity, stimulate her mind, who worked to connect with her, truly, on the most important levels. 

Wit...Wit was dangerously skilled at that. And he seemed to know it was what she wanted, seemed to read the eagerness, and the intent, in her responses. 

Indeed, she had considered courting him. Truly courting him, and allowing him to court her. 

So much so that she had discussed it with Ivory. He was the only person whose view on the matter she considered worth taking. Had he protested, she would have heeded him, and regardless of how invigorating she found Wit, it would have gone no further. 

However, Ivory, like her, was intrigued. He felt it would be a ‘good new avenue to explore for her personal growth’. She didn’t view it quite as logically as that. There was some feeling behind her own interest. More than some, if she was honest. 

It was late, now. They were tucked away together, deep in her chambers of Urithiru. If anyone heard of it there would be a great scandal. She was, as far as Vorin society was concerned, a single woman. She would be expected to be chaperoned, to ensure Wit didn’t try anything inappropriate with her.  

Wit seemed to consider the very definition of what each people he visited ‘inappropriate’ to be his own personal playground. He liked to establish himself within the boundaries of propriety, then slowly test, and push, and pry at them. And occasionally set them on fire and watch them burn with barely restrained glee. 

He had revealed much to her in the time he’d spent as her Wit. She’d met him before, of course, and guessed at his nature and origins, but she had coaxed more concrete answers from him now. 

He was an ancient creature, unlike anything she, or anyone else upon Roshar, had met before. He had visited other worlds, had witnessed their destruction, as well as the birth of the Shards that now held sway in the Cosmere at large.

The knowledge he held within his mind was incredible, incomparable.

The Heralds had been a revelation to her, as a dedicated historian. They were history come alive, walking, talking, sharing their truth with her. 

Wit was the same. Yet so much more. For he was the living history of not only her planet, but many more besides. 

Jasnah relished this time they spent alone together. Speaking with him, learning the secrets he carried, the keys to understanding her powers, and the powers of Roshar and beyond. 

He seemed to thrive upon her questions, as much as she thrived upon asking them. He was a showman, she knew, a performer. He liked to have an audience to play to. He had stories in his soul, and his purpose was to give them to others, as he felt was appropriate. 

“Quite correct,” he replied, absently, not looking at her but making some note on the papers he had propped on his legs. 

He was lounging back in his chair, boots up on her desk, which she permitted when they were alone together. If that was his comfort, she would not complain. She was not Dalinar, with military discipline drilled into her. She would not chide a man for sitting as he would in a moment of private companionship. 

There was a stack of parchment balanced on his raised thighs. She suspected he was taking his own notes on their conversation. He had done so before, after she had made some observation he’d actually found original and interesting enough to write down. 

She hadn’t thought, after all his years of life, that she would be able to provide him with anything he had not already experienced from someone else. It seemed that she had been wrong, and that he found her as intoxicating and stimulating as she found him.

She didn’t object to him writing, either. She found the tradition of forbidding a person from their potential passions or interests based upon some arbitrary concept like gender a foolish prohibition.

Although, not having to deal with men in the hallowed spaces of her research had been refreshing, at times. Excluding a rough half of a population's minds from any topic was ridiculous, she felt. 

Besides, Wit had learned to read and write long before Rosharans had even thought it unseemly. He was beyond such things. Indeed, some days he’d confessed to her he was beyond such things as gender.  

“And it can exist in multiple states?” she continued, pushing her thoughts back to the topic of Investiture, stopping them wandering down avenues far darker, and more mysterious, in regards to her and her Wit, “As a gas, such as the mists you described upon Scadriel,” she had to glance at another notebook to check the name of the planet. Wit nodded vaguely, “As a metal,” she said, “Like our Shardblades,” another nod, “Or as a liquid, like that gathered at the Well of Ascension.” 

“Indeed,” he said, making another few marks with his pen, still not looking at her. 

She didn’t mind that, either, but she did lean over to peer at his paper to see just what he was so engrossed in. 

She was surprised to see that he wasn’t writing at all. Instead, he was sketching, with delicate movements of a charcoal pencil he must have filched from her desk drawers while she’d been occupied. It was a rather impressive, and rather detailed, rendition of her.  

Jasnah as he saw her. Her eyes alive, focused on her work, hair unbound, cascading around her shoulders and down her back. Fingers deftly making some notation. Her face beautifully sculpted by sweeping lines of black against the tan parchment.

It was a very different style from Shallan’s, reminiscent of the drawings he had given her to help identify the Heralds. It was less focused on realism, imprinting every aspect of a moment captured in time, and more stylistic. Obviously his work.

There was...A care to his movements, and such an intimacy to his creation that, absurdly, she found herself having to fight down a blush. 

“That’s beautiful,” he murmured, glancing up at her, making swifter, surer strokes with his pencil, “If you’d just hold that pose for a moment more, my dear,” he said, as if this was the purpose of their meetings together. 

“I’m not supposed to be posing, Wit,” she said, composing herself, forcing herself to sound queenly and proper. And perhaps overcompensating, by the flicker of the smirk that he gave her. “I’m supposed to be learning. From you, I might add.” 

“We’re both old enough and ugly enough to do more than one thing at once, I think,” he replied blandly. 

Then he stopped and looked up at her, a faint glint in his eyes. 

“I do apologise,” he said, putting a hand to his chest and giving her a slight bow, without removing his feet from her desk, “I forgot to whom I was speaking for a moment.” 

He reached out and deftly slid a knuckle under her chin, angling her face more towards the pool of light that shone from the goblet of spheres on her desk.

“You’re not quite what I should define ‘old’ just yet,” he said, the smile pulling apparently irresistibly at his lips. 

“Wit,” she said, rolling her eyes, using the motion of turning back to her notes to cover the slight shiver that had pulsed through her at the intensity of his attention upon her a moment before. 

“No, please,” he said, cupping her chin gently between his fingers and turning her back to face him once more. “I’m almost finished,” he said, almost breathless, intent, “You can spare me a moment, surely? For the sake of art, Jasnah.” 

“You know I don’t care over much for art, Wit,” she said, though she did not pull away from him this time, drawn in to the faint glimmer in his eyes, the plea in his tone. 

His touch was strangely electrifying. As if there was Stormlight in his fingertips, sparking between them where his body met hers. The smallest of connections, yet the broadest of implications contained within such a simple gesture. 

“I know,” he said, with a dramatic sigh, “One of your very few failings, Brightness. We all must have at least one, I’m told. Except me of course.” 

“Of course,” she returned, rolling her eyes again, even as she found herself suddenly, dangerously, drawn in to those bright, sharp blue eyes of his.

“There’s just...Something wrong,” he said, cocking his head to one side, studying every line of her face. 

“Oh?” she said, feeling a spike of alertness breaking through the fog of her intoxication. 

“Yes,” he said, frowning, “Something not quite right. I think it’s your mouth.” 

“My mouth?” she repeated, confused, until she followed his gaze down to his sketch of her. 

“Mm,” he agreed vaguely, nodding, “Your lips have such a precise, sculpted quality to them,” he murmured, his thumb rising from her chin and tracing ever so tenderly over them. 

She had to restrain herself from closing her eyes and leaning in to him. It had been a long time since she had allowed anyone to touch her as intimately as this. It had been a long time since she had wanted anyone to touch her as intimately as this.

“I don’t think I’ve managed to capture it correctly,” he said, mirroring the motions he was making against her skin on the parchment, shaping her mouth more precisely. 

Lines of flesh and lines of charcoal, and breathless daring held together in the stillness between his words, neither of them moving, neither so much as breathing through them. Held. Captivated. Connected.

“That is a shame,” she said, finally, forcing herself to get some words out. 

She should draw away. She should put a stop to this. Should direct them back to their studies. This was more than he had ever dared with her before, further than he had ever pushed his teasing flirtation and gentle courting. She should not allow it. He was dangerous. The pull she felt to him was dangerous. The smart, the logical, thing to do was to walk away. To halt this before it began. 

She didn’t.

She didn’t want to, Storm it. Her world had ended, and she now struggled in the muck, and blood, and ash that remained to see what she could salvage. It was cold, hard, lonely work. As it had been for all those years she’d worked alone, in shadows, unseen, unwanted, untouched. 

Counter to the vicious rumours and harsh jibes, Jasnah was still human. She did not experience lust the same as others that she knew. But she was also not a frozen husk of a woman, devoid of need, or want for companionship and comfort.

A part of her longed for this connection with another person, this intimacy, this want that she increasingly found only with him. 

He was dangerous, yes, but he made her feel safe. He made mock of everyone around him, but for her he made sense, and certainty, of things she’d never thought to understand. He was a roamer, a drifter, a wanderer, untethered and bound. But he was hers. 

“Perhaps,” he said, then paused, licking his lips, almost as though he was nervous. Do it a part of her willed him, say it. Please. “Perhaps a closer look?” he murmured. 

She nodded, expectant. But when he slid from his chair and cradled her face in his hands, kneeling in front of her, he only traced the shape of her mouth with a tip of his finger, leaving her disappointed.

Yet she could see the want in his deep eyes, the gentle intrigue, the spark of daring that had led him to reach out and put his hands on her as he had tonight. With far more intimacy and familiarity than he’d ever risked before. 

“Wit,” she said quietly, dislodging one of his fingers. 

His eyes flicked to hers, and she felt her heart fluttering in her chest, as if she were an awkward teenager, fumbling into her first exploration of romance. 

She forced herself under control, and made sure her voice was level when she said, “Do you want to kiss me?” 

He blinked once, startled, then a smile spread across his lips, tentative, still, as if a part of him wondered she might be asking so she could put an end to those thoughts. 

But he nodded, “I do, Your Majesty. Most improper thoughts for a Wit to harbour for his queen, I admit.” 

“More improper still if they are reciprocated,” she said very quietly, watching his smile flare in his eyes at that. 

“Indeed,” he said, now sounding almost breathless, as if he could not quite believe what was happening. 

This feeling was likewise mutual. 

“If you want to kiss me, Wit,” she said, “Perhaps you should stop dancing around it, and just do it.” 

He held himself, suspended by shock, for a single heartbeat. Then he moved, surging towards her like a highstorm’s flood. One hand cupping her cheek, guiding her, the other sliding deft fingers deep into her thick hair. 

Then his mouth was on hers, finally, and she was closing her eyes and sinking into him, and he was moving gently against her. Drawing away for a beat, heavy lidded eyes meeting hers, seeking approval, which she gave. Then again, his lips against hers, heat pulsing between them like a freshly infused gemstone. 

“Ah. Yes. That helped,” he said, smiling softly at her, making to turn back to his sketch, as if that had been the only purpose of their embrace. 

“Yes,” she agreed quietly, “I think that it did.” 

Her tone held him in place and he bit his lip, giving her a small half-smile, no longer keeping up the joke of his sketch. Indeed, he let it slip from his lap, the pencil dropped from uncaring fingers, his attention focused entirely on her now.

“I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to allow me to do that,” he said, still sounding a little breathless, though Stormlight should have dealt with any purely physical exertion.

“I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to try,” she admitted, her fingers stroking absently at an out of place curl of black hair at his forehead. 

Wit smiled more broadly at that, taking her hand and gently brushing the knuckles against his lips, “I did promise you that I would never leave your questions answered.” 

He leaned in for a second kiss but she pulled back, frowning, “You leave my questions unanswered all the time, Wit.” 

“I do not!” he said, affronted, placing a hand over his chest. 

She gave him a flat look, “You disappeared for three weeks last month. Upon your return I asked you where you had been and you told me that you had ‘gone fishin’,” she said, badly mimicking the accent he’d used. 

He smiled and rubbed noses with her, which was the last thing she’d expected, and startled her so much she almost missed his reply.

“Technically, my dear, that was an answer," he said, smiling innocently up at her.

She just stared at him, unimpressed. 

Wit raised a finger, “I promised you I would give you answers. I said absolutely nothing about those answers being of any use to you.” 

Jasnah sighed, then kissed him again. That seemed to take him by surprise, which was pleasing. She found herself smiling against his mouth, and he against hers, and they broke apart, both laughing softly, unable to maintain the kiss. 

“So” Wit said quietly, his eyes flickering up from her lips to meet her gaze, “This is something we do now, is it?”

“I assumed when you said that you wanted to kiss me, that implied more than once,” she replied with a small sniff. 

Wit smirked at her, “Rather presumptuous of you, isn’t that, Your Majesty?” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her in a way only he could get away with doing. 

“Not if I’m right,” she said evenly, “And I am, aren’t I?” 

Wit grinned at her, “This is one of things about you I’m so inordinately fond of, Jasnah.”  

“My ‘unfettered, unyielding, and quite boundless arrogance’?” she asked, smirking slightly at the memory. 

Wit paused, then cocked his head and said, “Ruthar?” 

She inclined her head, confirming that suspicion. His grin broadened. 

“If you’re right, I don’t think that’s arrogance. I think it’s justified confidence in oneself in that circumstance,” he said, musing.

“So I am right, then?” she said, feeling a ridiculous flutter of nervousness as she asked the question, as if he might now turn around and reject her, after everything. 

Wit stroked her cheek with his knuckles and said quietly, “Given that I’ve been thinking about nothing but kissing you again since last we stopped I’d say that yes, your hypothesis has some merit.” 

“I thought I already told you what you should do if you want to kiss me,” she replied, “I am not fond of repeating myself, Wit, you know this.”

“I do apologise, my Queen,” Wit breathed, already leaning in, the words pressed against her lips a moment before his mouth met hers again.

When he drew back again, Wit cupped her face between both hands, gazing up at her, intent, and said quietly, “This is what you want? I am what you want?” 

“Yes, I believe so,” she replied composedly, “I have already come to the conclusion that this is a mostly appropriate course of action to pursue.” 

Wit raised an eyebrow at her and she actually blushed, turning away from him, feeling ridiculous. She had taken charge earlier, had all but commanded him to kiss her, but now she was stumbling around him like a teenager who had never so much as had another person hold her safehand?

“I am not accustomed to this kind of conversation,” she admitted, trying to reassert herself, though feeling horribly awkward at the same time, “It has never been my forte.”

He just shuffled in a little closer, and she realised that he was still kneeling on the floor in front of her while she sat primly at her desk. Storms. What a ridiculous man. 

She stood up then said, “Come, let’s sit somewhere more comfortable, if we’re to have this talk now.” 

Wit stood up as well, but put a gentle hand on her arm, “We don’t have to talk about anything right now,” he said, “It was a kiss. Which may turn into more kisses. Or it may not. We don’t have to define anything just yet, if you aren’t ready for that.” 

She stared at him incredulously.

“Did you hit your head on something as you were standing?” she demanded. 

He blinked, confused. 

“Have you forgotten entirely who I am?" She went on, "I can’t think why else you would say something so ridiculous to me.” 

He snorted with laughter at that. 

“Of course, of course,” he said, waving a hand, “How foolish of me, to attempt to put a woman at ease and remind her she’s under no obligation to me because of a single kiss we shared in the heat of a moment.” 

Jasnah sighed again and rubbed her forehead, wincing. 

It had been some time since she’d had to navigate a romantic relationship and she...Well she hadn’t been exactly good at this to begin with. 

She opened her mouth, but Wit just put a finger to her lips and spared her the trouble of making an even larger storming fool of herself.

“It’s quite alright, my dear,” he said, eyes twinkling in a way that she found, frustratingly, both irritating and enticing all at once, “In fact it’s rather refreshing. It’s the apocalypse, after all, we haven’t time to waste with pointless pleasantries and empty reassurances. Lead on, your Majesty.”

Still grinning, he slid his hand into hers and allowed her to draw him over to the reclining couch she had set up on the opposite side of the room to her study desk. A place for more relaxed reading or meditation. 

They both settled themselves, Wit still smirking at her, and she withdrew her hand from his and clasped it in her lap, not looking at him.

 “So,” Wit said, leaning in, and raising his eyebrows suggestively, “You’ve, let me make sure I get this correct,” he cleared his throat, and his already deep voice lowered even further as he said in a breathy, exaggerated, voice, “‘Come to the conclusion that I am a mostly appropriate course of action to pursue’ have you?” 

She stared at him flatly, and in direct counter to his hyperbolic seduction, which had intensified to the point that he was now fluttering his eyelashes at her, replied as matter-of-factly as she could, “Indeed. Ivory and I have already discussed it together at some length.” 

That made him sit up, suddenly dropping the act, which surprised her, as she’d expected him to drag at least a few more minutes of torment out of it. 

“You spoke to Ivory about us?” he said, in normal tones again. 

“Of course,” she said, frowning slightly, unsure why he thought this so worthy of remarking upon, “Any relationship I am involved in will directly impact upon him. It was only right that he be allowed a say in it.” 

“You wish to embark upon a relationship with me?” Wit repeated, a little dazed, as though she’d just swung a heavy weight into the side of his head. 

“Yes, Wit,” she said, then narrowed her eyes and drew away from him, “Unless you are only interested in a physical distraction with me,” she added, feeling suddenly cold at the prospect, “In which case this ends here, with no further conversation required on the matter.” 

“No,” Wit said, quickly, his voice gentle and reassuring. 

He reached out and took her hand to stop her retreating from him. When she hesitantly allowed this, he squeezed it and scooted closer, bumping his shoulder against hers in a manner that he apparently saw as affectionate.

"Not at all, Jasnah,” he said, shaking his head. Then he paused and added, “The kissing was very pleasant, I must admit. But there is more here, Jasnah, much more.”

 He met her eyes, and there was a depth to him he had rarely allowed her to see there. Knowledge, and history, and life and all of it focusing entirely upon her and this moment. It was almost overwhelming. 

She nodded slowly, running her thumb absently back and forth on the top of his hand, “It has been some time since I have connected with someone the way I have with you these past months,” she confessed quietly. 

Despite the fact that she had kissed him mere minutes before, despite admitting she had spoken with Ivory about him, despite the fact she’d all but told him that she wished to embark on a relationship with him...That revelation made her feel suddenly vulnerable. Almost to the point that she instinctively withdrew, before he saw, before he could use it as a weak point to hurt her. 

But something in him held her there. Like a Windrunner balanced on a surge, suspended above a chasm, unable to fall, to retreat to the ground where it was safe, and familiar, while the thrill of the flight kept them airborne, free, unwillingly to remember what life had felt like before this intensity, this rush of feeling and joy.

Wit nodded to her, squeezing her hand again, stopping her from falling, as she had so many times before, “I feel the same way,” he admitted, “You are a truly extraordinary woman, Jasnah Kholin,” he breathed, huffing a soft laugh and shaking his head. “And I would be lying if I tried to claim that I had seen this coming. I doubt even Cultivation-” he broke off, shaking his head. 

Taking a breath he composed himself, and met her eyes once more, tenderly cupping her cheek in his hand. She allowed him, once again feeling as though something in his touch was electrified, as though something sparked between them at the merest brush of his skin against hers. 

“You took me utterly by surprise, Jasnah,” he said, his voice now soft and sincere, “I knew you were a woman of uncommon beauty, of unsurpassing intelligence, and wit, even before I joined your court,” he added, seemingly unable to stop himself. Then he sobered, his voice gentler, more serious, “But I could never have predicted the effect that you would have on me. How stimulating your companionship could be, how addictive spending time with you could become.” 

She nodded, barely conscious of the gesture, then she cleared her throat and said, “Is this your long winded, Wit way of telling me that you want to be in a relationship with me as well?” 

Wit laughed at that, but it was a fond laugh, not meant to mock or hurt. He stroked his fingers through her hair and said, “Would it be more direct and obvious if I just kissed you again?” he asked. 

“I certainly don’t think it could hurt,” she replied flatly, even as something in her chest fluttered in excitement at the prospect. 

He did just that, but broke away before she was ready for it to end and said, “Jasnah Kholin.” She didn’t have a chance to reply before he was kissing her again. “I am telling you now,” Another kiss. “In no uncertain terms whatsoever,” He kissed her once more. “That I absolutely,” Another kiss. “Without a doubt,” She was smiling now. “Or a shred of hesitation,” he kissed her once more. “That I, your Wit,” he leaned in for another kiss but met only her finger, pressed against his lips and blocking him. 

He raised his eyes to meet hers without drawing back from and said, the words mangled by the press of her finger against him, “Am asking you if you would-” 

“Wit,” she groaned, shaking her head, even if she was still smiling at his antics. 

He straightened up, also grinning, and said, “I want to be in a relationship with you, Jasnah. A romantic relationship. With you as my partner. If that is something you think would please you?” 

In answer, to be quite sure he understood her completely, she kissed him again. 

***

[onceupon-longago]

Damerey Creations Week 2020

Day 6, October 30th: 

Mythical Creature AU

Sick Fic

Book

Mamihlapinatapei (Yagan): “The wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to do so.”

Plot Bunny: “Underworld AU”

Vampires and werewolves have been enemies for centuries, battling for control of the planet far from the eyes of mortal humans. After a werewolf attack left her orphaned, Rey Solana was taken in by vampire leader Snoke and trained as a Death Dealer — the most vicious and skilled of vampire warriors. While hunting one evening, she stumbles across a pack of werewolves who seem to have a curious interest in a mortal named Poe Dameron. In order to uncover their plot, Rey protects Poe from their attempts to abduct him, and finds herself inexplicably drawn to him. But what, exactly, makes Poe Dameron so interesting?

(I may have to actually write this....?)

[ladywren7]

Hey guys! I just want to say

HAPPY HOLLOWEEN!!!

MUHAHAHA!!

In honor of holloween, here are some spooky rebels episodes!

Season 1, episode 7 "Out of Darkness" Sabine and Hera go on a mission and get stranded on an abandoned base with vicious Frynocks who try to eat them. Ooo!!!

Season 1, episode 10 "Path of The Jedi" Ezra and Kanan go to the Jedi Temple on Lothal for Ezra can find his cyber crystal, but it's harder than it looks...Ezra must face visions, and some scary events happen!

Season 2, episode 5 "Always Two There Are" Honestly, this is one of the most Holloween episodes ever! I honestly refer to it as "the holloween episode" because this is really the holloween episode we never had. The three KIDS go to an ABANDONED medical station to get supplies, but little did they know that two Sith Lords are hunting them down, I won't tell you what happens next, but it's creepy!

Season 2, episode 7 "The Honorable Ones" Zeb and Kallus get stranded on an icy planet and have to work together to get out! But there is a monster and Kallus is injured! This one is really good, especially if you're looking for some holloween type romance! (Cause this one is practically a fic come to life😂)

Season 2, episode 20 "The mystery to Chopper Base" this one is a bit angsty, but it is scary! Giant spider-like creatures are invading the newly established rebels base and they even take someone! It's very scary and is a really good way to send a chill up your spine! Especially those who have Arachnophobia.

Season 3, episode 11 this one is very scary! Ezra goes with Maul to Dathomior and things get very scary very fast! Sabine and Kanan get possessed and it is creepy!!! Climbing on walls and trying to kill each other, this episode is full of scares. Definitely one of the most Holloween episodes ever!

Well, hope this gets you into a very Holloween mood!! Happy Hollloween! Stay safe!

[jealousmaude]

Stories with Strangers

Ezra (Prospect, 2018) x OC (sorta)

Prompt: Ezra makes up an heroic story about losing his arm in order to impress a pretty lady at the local watering hole

A/N: The above prompt was given to me by @ifalltheyearwereplayingholidays​ when I was bored and wanted to write something. It was meant to be a short drabble but my hand slipped and whoops it’s 3.9k words. Only my second Prospect fic and Ezra talks A LOT. I hope I did him justice. I’m always down to talk about Ezra more, feel free to drop me a line!

Warnings: None I think. A bit of vaguely described gore?

Tagged: @lalablue0​ Thanks for the gentle nudging and encouragement as always

When Ezra walked into the bar he knew he’d picked the right one. He was in a fringe city, on a fringe planet, looking for fringe work. It usually paid the best. But tonight he was just looking for a quiet drink in a dive bar where no one would look twice at him. And this was that bar. A dark and dirty bar with dark and dirty patrons. There were two men hunched over a table talking conspiratorially who looked up at him when he entered, but quickly went back to their hushed conversation when they deemed him no threat. There was a man lounging in a booth with two women he had no doubt paid to fawn over him. Another booth housed a couple of thugs surrounded by an excessive amount of empty bottles and glasses, having an animated and at times violent conversation. At the end of the bar was another working girl chatting up a depressed man who seemed far more interested in his drink than the girl, but she was determined. The shabbily dressed barman was leaning against the bench behind the bar, cleaning a beer glass with a filthy rag in the most stereotypical barman fashion ever, while ogling the young woman.

This was the right place indeed.

Ezra smiled to himself and approached the bar. The barman heaved himself upright, clunked the glass down, tossed the rag beside it and ambled over to Ezra as if it was most inconvenient of him to want service. 

“Amber. Top shelf. Neat." He knew in a place like this the alcohol wasn’t going to be of the highest quality so he figured he’d improve his chances of something drinkable if he aimed high. The barman grunted in acknowledgement and hauled himself around. He reached up to the highest shelf of bottles, revealing his unsightly underarm stains. He took a bottle of dark amber liquid, sloshed it into a smudged glass and plonked it unceremoniously in front of Ezra. 

“You’re a prince among men,” Ezra said with barely concealed sarcasm as he tossed some credits on the bar. The barman grunted again as he collected the payment and returned to wiping not very clean glasses with not very clean rags.

Drink in hand, he turned to survey the bar again. He enjoyed people watching. The longer you observed a person for the better you got at judging their behaviour. That came in handy in Ezra’s line of work. And if he couldn’t quietly watch them, then he would talk as much as he could to them. At them, it usually ended up being. He could tell a lot about people based on how they responded to his stories and that helped him down the line when he needed to know who he could trust if - or when - things went south.

Out of the corner of his eye something bright caught his attention. He turned to see a woman sitting at the end of the bar by herself. She had a shock of bright red curly hair covered by a hood, which would explain why Ezra had missed her on his way in, but that now stood out like a neon sign. She had a drink and a book open in front of her. He watched her reading for a moment and while she appeared to not want, or need, company, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk to someone who may have an interesting story to tell. He had lost count of the days since he had conversed meaningfully with another person.

He approached her and sat at the other angle of the bar next to her. Her eyes flicked up to him for a second, then back to her book. 

“Forgive the intrusion, but you have piqued my curiosity by reading a book at a bar when there are so many interesting beings here to observe. I must know what it is that is so engrossing.” Not his best opening line, but he’s used worse.

The woman slowly raised her head to meet Ezra’s eyes. She studied him for a moment, her eyes wandering down to his right shoulder, then back up to his face. Ezra was used to people being distracted by the missing limb. It usually got surreptitious, side-ways glances. More often than not, it was left unaddressed. Which suited him just fine. Recounting the story was not something he enjoyed doing. 

The woman continued to gaze at him, as if she was waiting for him to continue. He cleared his throat, “my name is Ezra,” he said and pressed his hand to his chest by way of introduction, hoping it would spur the woman on to talk. She didn’t, though she looked thoughtful, as if she was carefully considering her response. After a moment's further silence, Ezra decided she was a lost cause and moved to excuse himself. “I have clearly interrupted you, I’ll leave you to your book.” He went to stand when the woman spoke:

“I’ll tell you my name… if you tell me how you lost your arm.” she said plainly.

Ezra tried to hide how taken aback he was. But her candid approach was refreshing and he felt compelled to tell her… almost…

“Oooooh, this is a story of great heroics on my part,” he said gesturing to his missing arm. “Many people are alive today thanks to my heroic actions.”

A small smile played on her lips and she leaned forward with interest. “A story of heroics? I would never have guessed!” Ezra noted the sarcasm but continued nonetheless.

“Indeed. Though I try to stay humble, of course.” He might as well go all in and play up to the woman’s expectations. 

She huffed out a small laugh, humouring him. “Of course.”

“I was on Kapria-1, a dull little planet with no culture to speak of but spectacular deposits of an ore that is highly sought after in the outer systems. Terribly valuable stuff due in no small part to it being a tough bastard of a thing to extract. Time consuming, complicated and requiring specialty tools that are themselves, complicated to use. But the rewards far outweigh the tedious chore of obtaining it.” He paused for effect and to see if the woman would refute any of his story so far. She didn’t. He continued.

“The only other thing Kapria-1 is known for is the wildlife. Namely, a vicious creature called a Fanger.”

“A Fanger?” She replied, not bothering to hide her utter disbelief. 

“A Fanger,” Ezra confirmed in all seriousness. He wasn’t proud of the name he’d just made up, but he was thinking on the fly and went with the first name that came to him, regardless of how ridiculous it sounded. But he was committed to this story now so continued unabated. “Like I said, they are vicious. The locals call them hell-hounds. On all fours they stand as tall as a man’s shoulders. Eyes that burn bright red and a mouth full of the sharpest teeth you’ve ever seen. A beast not to be reckoned with. They will attack anything in their sights and tear a man limb from limb in seconds. However, they are nocturnal creatures, so provided you are sheltered safely and securely after dark they should be no cause for concern."

Despite herself, the woman seemed genuinely engrossed in the story now. As Ezra paused again she took a sip of her drink and said "I gather the next part involves you getting stranded out after dark." 

"You anticipate correctly!" 

"Go on then," she said encouragingly. 

"Well. I found myself working with a fairly green group of diggers. Had only done a few rotations on the planet previously, but they were an enthusiastic lot. Our time keeper misjudged how long we were in the tunnels for and when we emerged we were just in time to see the sun sinking below the horizon. We argued about whether it would be best to stay in the tunnels for the night, or risk the journey back to camp. Nights of Kapria are cold and we had no provisions. And despite the tunnels running deep, there was nothing to prevent a determined Fanger from sniffing us out. So it was decided we would make the journey back to safety. We had no weapons to speak of, but armed ourselves with the heaviest and sharpest tools we had at our disposal. I chose a small but hefty pickaxe. We took off with as much haste as we could muster, trying to keep quiet and not draw attention to ourselves. But the beasts have aural and olfactory capabilities that far eclipse our own, so it was only a matter of time. Just as our camp came into sight, we heard it. A distinctive snarl that stopped us in our tracks. Before we could even run we saw it looming. A giant figure stalked towards us, jaws slung with bloody slaver, eyes lit by the fires of Hades’ eternal damned Kingdom. It picked up pace and we knew we had no chance of outrunning it so I did the only thing I could do; I ran directly at it. If I could take its attention myself then maybe the rest of my crew could escape.” 

Ezra felt a twinge of guilt at this point. He’d never done anything so selfless in all his life! It hardly mattered at this point, as he neared the end of his outlandish story. The woman, for her part, appeared genuinely interested in the story now. Which was not entirely surprising, Ezra knew he had skill when telling a story, no matter how unbelievable. Still. Her hand still rested on her open book, marking her place as though she was not entirely committed to this conversation, and was ready to return to reading as soon as she tired of his outrageous claims. She raised an expectant eyebrow, “...And?”

“Well it worked. The beast lunged at me and sunk its fangs right into my arm as I tried to shield myself. It pinned me to the ground with one of it’s massive paws, claws digging into my flesh. In a vain effort to save myself I smashed the pickaxe into the side of it’s head as hard as I could. I kept hitting it, over and over, all the while I could feel it’s teeth shredding my flesh and bone. I must have made some impact because it decided I wasn’t worth the trouble of a head injury and bounded away into the night. The rest of my team dragged me the short distance back to camp, but my arm was too damaged to save. Luckily we had a few members with medic experience and, with our limited supplies, they managed to remove the damaged limb and patch me up. Not the prettiest job, but it did the trick, and I owe my life to them. I hitched a ride off the planet the next day and never looked back.” He downed what drink remained in his glass, punctuating the end of his story. He was quietly rather proud of spinning such fine fiction on the fly.

“Well. That is an impressive tale of bravery and loss.” The woman remarked.

“And I believe it has earned your name.”

A sly smile appeared on her lips. “Holly Golightly, pleased to meet you.”

Ezra tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “Now I may be just a floater from the Fringes, but I have read a book or two in my time and I know when I’m given a name taken straight from the pages of classic literature.”

She smiled more broadly. “Fake stories get you fake names, Ezra. If you’d care to tell me the real story, you might earn yourself my real name.” As if to signify her seriousness, she closed her book and folded her hands on it, awaiting his response.

Ezra considered for a moment. He didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about the events that led to losing his arm, let alone telling the tale to a stranger in a bar. But the woman intrigued him with her flame red hair and her forthright questions and he was curious to get to know more about her. Starting with her name. He signalled the barman and jiggled his empty glass at him indicating a refill was desired. He’d need more alcohol for this. They both waited in patient silence while the barman sloshed more amber liquid into his glass. When Ezra had taken a large gulp, he was ready.

“I was on Bakhroma Green,” he started. The woman sucked a breath in through her teeth. If people knew of it, they knew it was a dangerous place. Not just because of the toxic spores, but because the people who typically made the journey there these days were desperate and toxic themselves. She clearly knew of the moon’s reputation so Ezra did not need to go into details. “While the rush was over long ago, I figured I’d try my luck, see what was still left down there. If you’re lucky, it’s worth the risk of a visit. Unfortunately, owing to a dispute with my crew, I was left crewless, shipless and stranded. My only hope of getting off that rock was to find passage with another crew. Unfortunately there aren’t a lot of other harvesters willing to make space. Lotta trust issues. A case of Aurelac can make a man do desperate things. I thought my luck had run out, but then I stumbled across a father and his teenage daughter. I’ve never seen a girl so young down there. When I couldn’t bargain my way on to their pod, we struck a deal. The man was on his way to meet some mercenaries who claimed they’d found the Queen’s Lair - a most sought after, yet hitherto undiscovered deposit of the gem. Regrettably, greed got the better of him before we reached our destination and he attempted to relieve me of my own hard-earned case. A firefight ensued, leaving him and my partner dead, and his daughter fleeing back to their pod. I figured the girl was still my best hope of getting off the planet so I set out to find her. I eventually caught up with her, only to find her pod incapacitated and smoking and when I attempted to breach the entrance, I took a thrower bolt to the shoulder. She was feisty, I’ll give her that…” 

Ezra smiled and the memory of his and Cee’s first meeting. While at the time he was in pain and exasperated with her, he admired her tenacity and cool-headed negotiation skills. He’d never seen a girl in the green at all, but he’d never met a girl like Cee, period. The woman’s expression had changed from one of mild amusement to genuine interest. She waited intently for Ezra to continue, her brow knitted slightly in concentration. 

“She gave me a field kit to patch up my shoulder and we got to finding a mutually beneficial agreement to get us both off the moon. She could have taken me out then and there as recompense for my hand in her father’s death, but fortunately for me, she concluded I was her best bet at getting off the planet alive. We reached an accord wherein she would lead me to the mercenaries, and I would act as harvester in order for us to bargain our way onto their ship. Seemed a straightforward enough plan. However after walking for some time, it became apparent the toxic dust had made its way into my shoulder wound causing it to suppurate. By chance, we stumbled across a lone Sater who led us to his camp. We didn’t have much to trade, and Sater are notoriously difficult to deal with, but I didn’t have much choice; I could feel infection taking hold. I offered what little we had in exchange for medical supplies to treat my wound, but they had other plans. Their leader offered medical supplies and a great deal of Aurelac… in exchange for the girl.”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up, her eyes wide. She was genuinely invested in the story now. "So what did you do?" she asked in awe. 

"Well, I knew that no matter how much Aurelac I had, if I couldn't get off that planet, I'd have no chance to make use of its value. And since the girl was my only way to find the mercs and my last shot at getting on a ship, I couldn't make that deal. The idea of what those religious zealots would do to her made my stomach turn. As I was buying time to come up with a counter offer, my young friend made other plans. She took off running as quick as she could. She was fast enough that she was out of sight before they managed to catch her. I cannot fault her for her actions though. She had no reason to believe I wouldn't sell her out. To her I was just a thief and a murderer using her to get a ride home. In truth, I was growing quite fond of her and had no intentions of allowing harm to befall her. Without her though, I was useless to the Sater and they ejected me from their camp with nothing. I staggered through the thick forest of the planet, filter spent, arm septic and painful, until I came to an abandoned prospecting camp. With what little supplies that were left I attempted to excise the infected flesh, but I only made it worse. My options were two: die painfully and slowly as the infection spread, or amputate the affected limb before it got into my blood.” 

The woman now looked somewhat horrified. Her eyes moved down to his shoulder again, then back up to his eyes. Mixed in with the horror was something else: pity. Another reason Ezra didn’t like telling the story, or even talking about it, really. People ended up feeling sorry for him and he hated it. An heroic story of sacrificing his arm to a giant, fanged beast in order to save his crew garnered him much less pity, even if it was obviously a fabrication. But there it was in her eyes, unmistakable. “So… how did you do it?” she asked, with some trepidation.

“I knew I could not manage it on my own, so in desperation I put a call out on the radio hoping that someone in the vicinity would hear me. I cycled through all the channels just hoping I would reach anyone, as risky as it was to broadcast my location in a place where most people's intentions are justifiably self-preservatory. Just as I began to lose hope, I heard someone approach. Weak as I was, I waited by the door of the tent to surprise them should I judge them dangerous at first glance. The tent unzipped and a blaster poked through first, which I grabbed before tugging it’s owner into the tent and shoving them to the floor. You cannot imagine my surprise when I saw who it was: the young girl. Filter spent and near starving. I had no idea if she would help; she still had no reason to trust me, though when she asked if I would have left her to the Sater I told her truthfully I would not have. She must have believed me because she agreed to help. With nothing but a syrette of anaesthetic for me and a small e-scalpel for her, she got the job done. Didn’t wince, didn’t flinch. Cool, calm and collected, the whole time.” He shook his head and smiled, remembering just how levelheaded Cee had been. He’d been so impressed. “I, on the other hand, was a babbling mess.” He chuckled. 

The woman held up a hand to interject. “Do you mean to tell me that a teenage girl cut off your arm in a dirty tent with only a scalpel and a single injection of pain relief?”

“That is the truth, yes.”

“Well, first of all, this story is way more interesting than some tale of beasts and heroics!”

Ezra chuckled. He knew it was, but that didn’t ease his discomfort in telling it. The woman shook her head in astonishment. “So… what happened? Did you find the mercs? Did you find the Aurelac deposit??”

Ezra nodded. “We did. We finally located them and after some hard bargaining we secured passage on their ship in return for harvesting the Aurelac they’d found. It was indeed a bountiful site.” Ezra knew he was seriously skipping over some details of the final part of the story, but she had asked how he had lost his arm, not about the scar on his chest, that still, to this day, ached in the cold. He rubbed at the scar absently as he thought about the last, few, horrifying events on the moon before they finally escaped. This woman did not need to know that he couldn’t harvest one-handed. That they had had to resort to shooting their way out. That he had received a stab wound to the chest and then used a scalpel to the throat in bloody retaliation. That he had watched Cee run into the darkness after he insisted she get off the moon while she still could, only to have her return to him and save his life. Again. The sadness and relief he felt when he saw her and she sprayed his wound with the cream and helped him to the ship. No. She didn’t need to know these details. They were for Ezra alone.

As it was, the woman’s mouth hung open in awe. “And… what happened to the girl?”

Ezra downed the last of his drink and smiled sadly. He missed Cee. He had grown accustomed to her presence in his life and enjoyed being her guardian, as surprised as he was by this. The woman took this response to mean the worst.

“Kevva, I’m so sorry, I--”

Ezra shook his head adamantly and held up his hand, “no, no. She’s fine. She attends a boarding school back in Central. Brightest in her year. We exchange correspondence every week, her missives filled with stories and details of her life and school, far more interesting and colourful than the stories I’ve told tonight. I think she’ll publish a book before she’s even graduated.” He couldn’t hide how proud he was of her.

The woman smiled and it was the first genuine smile Ezra had seen from her all night. It lit up her face and made her eyes sparkle. Eyes that were now filled not with pity, or doubt as they had earlier, but with understanding and kindness. She held out her left hand to better shake his. “Ezra, I’m Ida.” 

Ezra took her hand. “Ida. It is a pleasure to meet you. Now, do you have any harrowing tales you would like to recount in return?”

She let out a loud laugh and tossed her head back, her flaming hair swishing under her hood. “Let’s have another drink and see where the night takes us.” She flagged down the barman.

Ezra figured that if he thought about it, there was a lesson to be learned here about the benefits that honesty and discomfort brings, but for now he was happy just to enjoy Ida’s company a while longer.

[uefb]

Chapter Two of The Most Vicious Creatures on the Planet link

Fic Summary:

Newt became aware of his idiosyncrasies in fits and starts. Eventually, he would divide his life into Before he learned humans were vicious, and After. But accepting he could be just as vicious as anyone else was a lesson it hurt to learn. (Focuses on social awakening, relationships, and the compromises we make as we grow into a world not always built for us.)

Excerpt (opening scene):

[xxpadfootxx]

🐾Night Terrors & New Beginnings - Part 1 (Dragons & Heroes)🐾

Summary: Izuku Midoriya had never seen a dragon in his life, only pictures. All dragon attacks were nullified in the media so as to avoid any panic within large cities, and so he had not even seen a dragon on video. That was why he had absolutely no clue what to do when he found himself staring into the intense depths of a dragon’s eyes

A/N: So I know this sounds like a weird concept but I’ve come to really enjoy writing this series. It’s an HTTYD & MHA crossover fic. I know it sounds weird but people seemed to like it on my ao3 so I’ll post it here too just to see what you guys think. More one shots are on the way tho for those who don’t care for this series. Either way, I’m gonna keep posting more chapters and see what you guys think. I promise I tried to make sure it didn’t become hectic or crazy by smashing these two concepts together, but we’ll see what you guys think! I also would like to point out that I wrote the beginning of this story AGES ago, so I apologize ahead of time for the decrease in writing quality and possible grmatical errors. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

Dragons were rare. Or at least, dragons seemed rare since they did not reveal themselves too often. They were dangerous, vicious and bloodthirsty creatures that preyed on those who did not pay attention, the innocent who did not look above them when going for a walk. Deaths caused by dragons did not happen too often in the city anymore because of the large number of dragon hunters who protected the cities from the blazing fire and sharp talons of the beasts but they did happen every once in a while when a dragon escaped from behind bars or managed to pick off a person from the edge of a town or city. Despite the significant research done and the statistics to support that information, Izuku Midoriya had never seen a dragon in his life, only pictures. All dragon attacks were nullified in the media so as to avoid any panic within large cities, and so he had not even seen a dragon on video. That was why he had absolutely no clue what to do when he found himself staring into the intense depths of a dragon’s eyes.

Izuku’s head hurt and his arms were sore from the rigorous training he had just done with All Might. Ever since he had gotten into UA, Izuku had done daily training sessions with All Might so as to improve his use with One for All, going to either Dagoba Beach where he had cleaned all of the trash, or moving to a peaceful clearing in the woods on the other side of town to spar with the great Symbol of Peace. He had been getting better, using his new physical strength from their pre-spar exercise routine, but he was still no match for All Might. He sighed to himself and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. All Might had offered him a ride home after their harsh training session but Izuku figured that walking would do him good and had taken the scenic route back towards his home. The trees around him swayed in the breeze and the birds chirped over his head merrily. Izuku paused in a clearing and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smell of the late spring air. He smelled the slight watery smell of the creek that lay nearby. He smelled the sweet scent of flowers and relished in the feeling of the sun on his face. He took one last deep breath before he started to walk again. The smells were pleasant, the flowers, the creek, the sun, the grass, the blood…

Izuku jolted to a halt, his step faltering to the point of almost making him fall over. He sniffed the air again, unsure if he smelled it correctly. Fear crept up his spine as he took in that metallic scent once again. That was definitely blood, and it was strong wherever it was. Izuku wanted to keep walking down the pretty pathway through the woods. He wanted to make it home before dinner so that he would not worry his mother. He wanted to do anything but investigate, but his legs were plotting against him. He felt as if he could no longer control his body as it turned him and forced him to pad through the tall grasses, straying away from the path, to see what was going on. He walked for a little while, the trees around him closing in on him, forming narrow lines. The grass was shorter here and the sun was beginning to become blotted out by the thick canopy of trees above him. He shivered as a chill set in, and he wanted nothing more than to turn back, to find the sun and the safety of the path, but his legs once again ignored his brain and continued to trek deep into the woods. The smell of blood was really strong now, he placed the hem of his shirt over his nose and mouth to avoid choking on the stench. Finally, he broke through the last row of trees and peered into a large clearing. The clearing normally would have been beautiful, short grass that was dappled with shadows on the corners but bright and sunny in the center with a glittering creek running through the center, gleaming in the lowering sun. Izuku may have even admired its natural perfection had the situation been different. But it wasn’t. The clearing was covered in blood, the grass was soaked with it, stained a deep red. There were no bodies but Izuku noticed some of the blood that dripped slowly from the branch of a nearby tree. But that was not even the worst part.

In the center of the clearing was a dragon.

Izuku sucked in a terrified breath and fumbled to reach for the knife that he kept at his hip. He was not normally one to carry a knife, but his mother had been worried about him wandering around on his own now that he was going UA and had given him a pocket knife for his birthday. It wasn’t much and he was worried that it wouldn’t even penetrate the pelt of a dragon, but it was all that he had. His hand shook as he held the knife aloft, his whole body tense and waiting for the creature to pounce on him and add him to the bloody stew in the clearing. He could see the creature looking at him, its eyes wide and its cat-like pupils narrowed into slits. Izuku tried to calm his breathing, he was probably with the most dangerous animal on the planet, if he panicked, he was dead.

His eyes darted around the clearing as he tried to piece together a plan, anything to help him in this situation. He did not know why the dragon had not attacked him yet, but he could not assume that he was safe just because the creature was lying on its side. He had no idea what species of a dragon it was and he could not judge whether it was a hunting tactic or whether it was just tired and full. His fingers tightened on the knife and Izuku locked eyes with the beast. He would fight. He knew he couldn’t win but he just had to try, for the sake of the people who he assumed did not leave this clearing and for the sake of those who had helped him to become who he was now. He stood up straighter and took one shaky step into the clearing. The dragon lifted the corner of its lip in a half snarl and let out a cross between a growl and a pained groan. Izuku froze, the knife shaking so badly in his hand that he could barely keep ahold of it, and waited in a half-crouched position for the beast to leap out at him with its claws outstretched and flames billowing out of its mouth. The dragon lifted its head slightly, watching him with wide eyes before letting its head fall back to the ground with a muffled thump.

Izuku let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding. His legs felt like jello but he forced himself to take another step, and then another. The dragon did not even react this time, its head remaining on the ground and its eyes closing. The dragon did nothing. Even though most of its body was obscured by a large boulder, Izuku could tell that its whole body was limp. It was vulnerable, maybe it was exhausted from killing the people in the clearing. Izuku decided that this was his chance to kill the beast and escape with his life and the justice of the dead who did not manage to kill the dragon. With a loud battle cry, Izuku launched forward, the knife thrust in front of him, running at the dragon with all of the strength he could muster. The dragon again did not react and merely turned its head away with a sigh. Izuku rounded the boulder and raised his arm to bring down the knife when the sight of the creature’s body caused him to freeze in place.

The dragon was lying on its side with its legs, tail, and wings bound by firm ropes with hooks on the ends that sank into its flesh on its chest and lower back. Its back leg was twisted horribly in the wrong direction and one of its wings was obviously broken at the curve, a shiny white bone sticking out of the top like a white knife. Scars and open wounds crisscrossed over the dragon’s body like a grotesque map, including an enormous gash that was leaking blood all over the meadow ground, and one of the dragon’s eyes was swollen shut with three long claw marks that started a little bit above the eyelid, went over the eyelid and ended a few centimeters below the eye. Izuku stood with his mouth agape, the knife held aloft in a shaking hand as he took in the sight of the dragon. He tried to tell himself that the dragon deserved this, that the beast was a killer and it had been restrained to avoid any more bloodshed. But when looking at the sad creature before him, something that was probably gorgeous and proud once, he couldn’t bring himself to blame it. If it had killed the people, Izuku reasoned that it must have either been following its instinct to eat when hungry or it was trying to protect itself. He realized that he had allowed his hands to bring the knife down to his head, resting it there as he stood over the beast, thinking. He shook his head and raised the knife again, closing his eyes and leaning back to fling the knife down.

The dragon suddenly let out a pained whine. Izuku’s eyes flew open and he looked down at the dragon in shock. It sounded exactly like an injured puppy. His breathing sped up and he tried to raise the knife again, but he suddenly dropped it. He heard it clang against the stone behind him and Izuku had to force himself to keep from running away as fast as possible. He ran his hands through his hair and looked at the dragon in the eye once more. His hand flew up to his mouth and he couldn’t stop himself from falling backward a few steps as he looked into the creature’s eyes. The pupils were wide now so that the dragon looked almost cute and a single tear was trailing down its face. Conflicted feelings coursed through Izuku as he looked at the pitiful beast, he wanted to kill it or run away but the hero side of him also wanted to stay and help it. He stood and stared for a little while, allowing his eyes to rove over the dragon’s wounds before he finally made a decision. A decision, that he did not know would change his life forever.

Trying and failing to keep his hands steady, Izuku leaned down with the pocket knife and pressed it to the dragon’s side. The dragon let out another agonized whine before closing its eyes and tilting its head to a more comfortable position on the grass. Izuku took a deep breath and whispered to the dragon.

“Please don’t kill me.”

Then, with a swift jerk of his arm, Izuku sliced his knife through the thinner threads of the rope. The dragon’s eyes snapped open and it took everything in Izuku’s power to remain by its side and continue to cut the rope that was looped over its midnight black scales. He placed the knife against another rope and jerked his arm again, fighting against the tough material until it gave way to his actions. Finally, the last rope was cut and everything fell loose, slipping down the dragon’s legs and pooling on the meadow floor. Izuku put his hands up and flinched, his eyes closed as he waited for the dragon to pounce on him now that it was free. His whole body was shaking and his breathing was so fast-paced that he thought he might pass out. He waited, but no attack came. He opened his eyes just a crack to see that the dragon had shuffled its legs around so that it was able to tuck them underneath its chest but it had made no move to actually stand. Its back leg was still horribly twisted and the hooks from the rope were still lodged in the dragon’s chest and back. Izuku lowered his hands slowly and peered at the dragon. The dragon watched him as well with its lips pulled back into a slight snarl. Neither moved.

That was when the voice echoed loudly throughout the woods. The dragon sat up as high as it could without standing to peer over Izuku’s shoulder and Izuku jumped in surprise at the noise.

“Oh yes sir, it is over here!”

“You don’t think it is already gone?”

“It may have injured a lot of our men, but it was pretty tied up and it was wounded to the point of barely remaining conscious. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was out cold.”

“Let's hope so, that would make things so much easier.”

The voices started to get louder as their owners got closer to the clearing. They were laughing and joking loudly as they walked. Izuku wanted to be excited that help was on the way, but he couldn’t help feeling as if these people were not the right kind of help. The dragon beside him started trying to move, lifting its wings with a grimace and scrambling to get its legs underneath it. It only took a few more minutes for the men to break through the ring of trees and enter the clearing. Almost as if the men were poisonous, the dragon who had been struggling just moments before, landed on the ground with a sickening crunch. The beast just allowed itself to crash to the forest floor and laid there limply, like a dead dog.

The men stopped laughing and looked at Izuku, their smiles fading as they eyed him and the limp dragon beside him. Nobody spoke. Izuku wanted to stand or walk or at least move but his body refused to cooperate. He sat still, his knife hovering in the air over his leg, dripping with dragon’s blood onto his pant leg. The men looked from Izuku’s face to the bloody knife, their eyes widening and smoldering. Finally, one of the men took a step closer and cleared his throat.

“What is your name, boy?”

Izuku knew better than to answer with his real name and forced himself to quickly throw back the first name that came to mind.

“Tamaki Atari.”

“What are you doing here, Atari?”

Izuku gulped and slowly wiped the dragon’s blood from his knife onto his pant leg.

“I smelled a strong tang of blood and came to see if everyone was okay.” Izuku glanced around nervously. “I was shocked by what I found.”

The man looked back to his friend and dipped his head in a slight curt nod that Izuku almost missed.

“Of course you were, I am so sorry for what you have found here, that feral beast came and attacked our men out of the blue when we were camping. You must be troubled and scared, come on we can take you home.” The man held out his hand and smiled warmly at Izuku, so warmly that it was almost convincing enough to make him go to the man. 

Almost.

“It’s alright, I can walk home myself,” Izuku said, forcing himself to his wobbly feet. He managed to steady himself and face the men but he never dropped the knife.

“No really, boy. We don’t want you getting hurt, do we?”

“I’m alright, I know my way home.” Izuku tried to steady his shaking hand but he couldn’t stop the little tremors from trailing up and down his arms.

“You need to come with us.” The man said, now dropping his warm persona to replace it with a cold demeanor, topped with a venomous grin.

“No, I can’t do that,” Izuku said, shaking his head.

“If you can kill a Night Fury then you can walk a little way with us.”

Izuku felt his jaw drop but he didn’t care. He could understand how they assessed the situation and connected the dots so that he seemed like a dragon killer but it surprised him nonetheless. He just couldn’t see how he, Izuku Midoriya, could be seen as someone to kill something as strong, powerful, and dangerous as a dragon. Even though he had buffed up a little bit with the training from All Might, he just couldn’t see himself as a dragon hunter.

“No, no, no, it's not what you think! I didn’t kill this dragon! I found it like this!”

“Why is your knife covered in blood then?”

“I used it to cut off the ropes.”

The men both sighed and looked at each other in furious annoyance.

“So you are one of those people, huh?”

“Those people?”

“The people who think that killing dragons is wrong and inhumane. The people who think that we should treat dragons like dogs and take care of them. Make a sanctuary for them.” The man’s face scrunched up with disgust. “It’s completely delusional.”

“I know nothing about dragons, I do not have an opinion,” Izuku said quickly. “I just saw a dragon that was mostly dead and I thought that I could do it a final service by just releasing its bonds. It was too weak to do anything but lay on the grass and bleed.”

The men looked at each other once more before turning back to Izuku, their eyes lit with a furious flame.

“First, you kill the one thing that would have made us the richest men on Earth, and then you lie to us with this dragon wellness bullshit.” The man speaking pulled out a long sword that Izuku had not noticed had been strapped on his back and hidden beneath his shabby cloak.

“DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH YOU HAVE COST US, BOY!?” The man suddenly screamed, running at Izuku with the sword held aloft.

“YOU THINK YOU ARE SUCH A HERO DON’T YOU? YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING!”

Izuku covered his face with his hands and flinched as the man bolted at him with a shocking speed that rivaled that of Iida’s speed. Izuku guessed that the man’s quirk was at work. Even if he had had full control of One for All there was no way he would have been able to dodge him. That is why when Izuku did not feel the sudden burn of the sword thrusting through him, he felt confused. He opened one eye tentatively and peered through his fingers, almost afraid of what he would see. His eyes widened in shock and it took everything he had to avoid tripping backward in surprise. Standing in front of him, holding the sword in its teeth was the dragon. Izuku was sure that the beast had been barely able to even lift its head let alone jump up and run in front of a flying sword. But here it was, snarling at the men while holding the sword in its mouth, the man’s arm still holding onto the hilt. He released the hilt of the sword with a choked gasp and scrambled away from the dragon with a laugh that sounded almost hysterical.

“So you are alive,” The man said with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. “I am so happy to see that.”

The dragon dropped the sword where it hit the soft earth with a wet squelch, landing in the mud and the blood that soaked the clearing. Everything was silent. Even the birds had gone quiet as the dragon and the men stared at each other. Then, quick as lightning, one of the men swung around and snatched a long iron whip from out of his bag. He held it aloft and allowed it to uncoil, pooling on the forest floor with a sound like pebbles rolling down a cliffside. The dragon let out a vicious snarl that seemed to shake the forest to its core and raised its broken wings, its teeth bared. Despite having his vision partly obscured by the large black wings of the dragon, he could still see the man with the whip. The man rattled the chain twice and clucked with his tongue.

At first, Izuku thought that the man was trying to subdue the dragon with those actions and noises but suddenly, about twenty men broke through the tree line and rushed into the clearing, weapons raised. A group of the men even brought out a large metal cage that was filled with spikes on all of the sides both inside and outside. Izuku froze, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t understand why this dragon was so valuable and yet so tortured. He didn’t understand why the most deadly creature on the planet was fighting to protect him. And he didn’t understand why he got involved. The only thing he did understand was his sense of justice as all of the hero lessons from All Might came flooding into his brain all at once. Izuku did not even think before pushing the dragon’s wing back and ducking underneath it. He did not think as he ignored the dragon’s warning growl at him and he did not think when he used his own body to cover the dragon. He faced away from the dragon and hovered his right hand over its panther-like head while his left hand hovered over its side, palms down. He held his head high and did not think as the quarry of men rushed both him and the dragon.

As the men got closer, Izuku leaned back so as to provide even more of his minimal protection, placing his right hand right on the dragon’s head above the eyes but below the ears. He felt the dragon’s surprisingly soft scales despite their strength and felt the little fin-like scales that ran up the length of the dragon’s face from just above the nostrils to a little way before the base of the ears. He felt the dragon’s mix of warm and cool scales, the strange mix of temperatures flooding into his fingertips like touching an ice cube doused in salt. That was when his hand suddenly flared with heat and pain. Izuku could not contain the scream that managed to rise out of his throat. He heard the dragon roar in pain and even though his brain started to go hazy with a mess of thoughts, one thing was clear:

He had done the right thing.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Author’s Note: For @palizinhas‘s birthday! Some RiKai, as Kairi goes to a Magic Knight Rayearth world--why I chose that for this, I don’t know (though maybe it’s because this whole thing was supposed to be a world-hopping, multi-chapter--that I don’t know if I’m doing anymore--and with other multi-chapters I’m writing right now, I’m running out of new worlds to send people to). But meh. Also, you don’t have to know MKR to understand this fanfic--but I hope you like it, honey.

I’m meh about this fic. Because it’s not the epic RiKai I promised you long ago--and it’s more Kairi-centric than anything--but I hope it’s still something.

I hope you’re having a great birthday!

-Shanna

Edit: Also, full disclosure that it’s been a while since I’ve watched MKR or read it.

Healing

As it had turned out? Sora, on his second journey, actually had been doing damage to the worlds in unlocking Keyholes (1). And now that he was retired after everything that had happened with the Master of Masters, Kairi and Riku had decided that they would go to the worlds he’d visited and lock them.

And Kairi in being desperate to prove herself, she knew, was the first one to leave in a gummi ship by herself… But since she had never flown one before, she should have accounted for the fact that she’d probably mess up on it.

And that was how she found herself in a new world, that—as far as she knew—none of her friends had ever been to before. And like Sora, Riku, Terra, Ventus, and Aqua had done in the past, she found herself getting involved in the world—Cephiro’s—massive problems and trying to help out there.

But maybe this world was destined to aid her in some ways, too… Because it was when Kairi was in a bath with the main girls involved in this conflict—Hikaru, Umi, Fuu, Caldina, and Presea—that Kairi found her thoughts returning to Riku. She’d liked him for a long time, she knew… But it was only recently that she was starting to think that those feelings had turned to love… kind of like what Hikaru felt for the kind and strong warrior, Lantis, it seemed.

“I think,” said Kairi, as she splashed the girl with the water powers, Umi, to see just how much water she could create to retaliate with, if she got too angry. “That you should be with Lantis then, Miss Hikaru. Life’s too short—and tragedy happens too much—to give up on your dreams.”

But it was here that the woman Presea—who had apparently been a guide to Hikaru, Umi, and Fuu in the past—laid down the law for Kairi, and seemed like she hated herself to do so. “Except that she can’t. Hikaru here might be the next Pillar of Cephiro. And day and night, twenty-four/seven, the Pillar must pray for Cephiro’s well-being. Otherwise, plants will fail to grow… the weather will only be vicious storms, and the country will fall to chaos. And if Hikaru were with Lantis, it could distract her from that… like the situation with Lantis’ deceased brother, Zagato, and the now dead Princess Emeraude.”

And so Kairi sank down in the water and stopped trying to give relationship advice. But if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she bought all parts of this tale. And with how awful it sounded—apparently Zagato had kidnapped his love, Emeraude, to try and save her from such a terrible fate and she had begged Hikaru, Umi, and Fuu to save her for Cephiro’s sake… only to turn around and try to kill them when they ended up slaying him, so that they had to end her in self-defense—Kairi didn’t know why anyone would want to preserve such a system. But it wasn’t her place to say. And what she needed to focus on was finding the Keyhole of this world…

And that’s how Kairi found herself in Fuu’s mecha with her. She’d reluctantly broken the World Order and told everyone here that she was a Keyblade wielder and looking for this world’s Keyhole in order to save it from Heartless… and Fuu had told her that she could come with her to look for it, while she patrolled against those from other worlds—it seemed—who were now trying to steal Cephiro for their own or to copy the Pillar System. And as they’d gone out into the Other Sky, Kairi and Fuu had witnessed this kitty-cat looking girl attack Hikaru viciously. "Okay... I think I can keep up most of your world’ story," said Kairi now, as she sent a Cure spell Hikaru’s way, and very nearly went outside to deliver some Keyblade action onto cat girl. “But what’s up with that girl who kind of looks like Hikaru, who keeps saying that she loves Hikaru but hates everything that she loves?”

"You're learning most of these answers as we are," Fuu answered, as she sent an impressive gust of wind towards the strange girl, that would have even impressed Ven with his Tornado spell. "I- I guess Hikaru was split in half somehow—because she hates herself for what we did to Emeraude—and Nova's the small part of her left, that feels any self-worth." Being split in two... now she could relate to that. And while she’d somewhat been criticizing this world before… she had to admit that a lot of it actually fit with her and her story. So, could it have been destiny? As a Princess of Hearts, was she supposed to save Hikaru from a terrible fate by adding another terrible fate onto herself?

Deciding to test that theory, as Kairi healed Fuu now—for now Nova’s mecha was coming after her—Kairi asked, "...What if I became Pillar?" "...I definitely, uhh, think you have the pure soul for it, Miss Kairii!” Fuu answered, as she punched this way and kicked that way—that somehow made the robot they were in do the same thing—"but you- you have to be chosen for it." This somewhat took Kairi aback... though, really, she knew she should've known. But she was trying to act like Riku had, when he'd had nothing but had still tried to find a way to save her years ago. But it seemed it wasn’t meant to be… unless she really tried for it, perhaps? Maybe she could stumble her way into some of this, like Sora had with being a Key bearer. "I'll test myself for the role, and see if I have what it takes… I’ll find this toxic water you spoke of earlier—in the chamber of the Pillar—and see if I can wade my way through it.”

And summoning a Corridor of Light through which she could leave—and somewhat ignoring Fuu’s raised eyebrow—Kairi prepared to do just that.

Skillfully, with the kind of jumps that only a wielder could do, Kairi jumped from stone to stone in this water… but it wasn’t enough. Some force was pulling her down, down, down, and she had just enough time to create a barrier around herself and glide away, before something disastrous happened. And atop her barrier, sat a white little creature that had been in the bath with them earlier. Mokona, if Kairi remembered its name right? "I think," the genius animal said, "You're trying to prove to Riku to Riku in particular, that you're strong as he is. But you don't need to be the new Pillar in order to do that. All I ask is that you aid the new Pillar when they awaken.”

Aiding… that was what she’d done on most of Riku and Sora’s quests in the past, huh? And while she hated that about herself—and always thought that she should do more—maybe what she did was for the best. Maybe it was who she was. "I'll just let Hikaru be Pillar," Kairi agreed, in knowing for sure that the Pillar would be her and not these people from other planets wanting to try out for that role. After all, to create such a powerful darkness as Nova, she must have had a wonderful light to her.

And that was exactly what Kairi said to Hikaru when she returned to Hikaru, Umi, and Fuu’s fight with the other nations. Kairi, in space once again, performed her Seven Wishes and Heart of a Princess attack to help even the odds, and was then flying in front of Hikaru’s mecha. "Hikaru… I know it may still be rough. But you need to accept bad things that you think you've done and still find a way to love yourself through them. You… despise yourself for what happened with Emeraude, and so you created Nova. And I- I came to this world I don't belong in, because I didn’t think I did enough for Riku and Sora before and was trying to make up for it here... When, maybe, I should have let myself revel in being the damsel in distress some, so I would have waited for Riku and we’d be here together right now.”

Hikaru must have understood where Kairi was coming from. Because days later, Hikaru—now Pillar—changed the system, so that Cephiro would be upheld by everyone who loved their country. And with her job done, when her own world was trying to call her back home, Hikaru allowed herself to reach for Lantis and tell him that she loved him.

And on that day, Kairi felt a hand with a new cast into it slip into hers. And she heard the words. "Great job, Kai! …But it turns out the whole Keyhole and Gate situation was taken care of long ago. We’re not needed after all. What do you say we go home?” Kairi grinned at Riku—and got so close to him, that wisps of his silver hair fell into her own face—and she tugged on his hand. "Let's."

Author’s Note: That’s based on the KHII manga, where Mushu thinks Sora—in unlocking the Gates—is unsealing the Keyholes from KHI and is upset about it. LOL.

Mokona can talk, because I’m going with the manga version where he’s actually the god of Cephiro… but a much kinder one here. Yep.

[ckret2]

More on the relationship between Gigan and Ghidorah, perhaps? Like that adorable crush Third has on him and the heartbreak that followed. I wonder if Gigan ever picked up on it or if he feels the same?

Oh, Gigan definitely felt the same—and although he may or may not have “picked up” on it, he definitely strongly suspected it. He was somewhere between 70%-100% sure.

The reason Ghidorah cut and run, in fact, is because after years of Ghidorah and Gigan repeatedly running into each other in the same quadrant of the galaxy, doing world-destroying jobs on the same planet and crossing paths in the same hilariously oversized mercenary hangouts, Gigan officially asked Ghidorah to travel with him, like, as an official full-time world-smashing partnership. Which is basically as close as you can get to a proposal when you’re a couple (quartet?) of freakishly mutated apocalypse weapons from different planets with no individual or shared marriage-equivalent cultural construct. He justified it by saying it would be dumb if they kept competing against each other for the same jobs, and also Gigan can get actual transport to their target worlds so Ghidorah doesn’t have to keep, like... literally drifting in space their next target. But all justifications to make sure he kept sounding like a Tough Aloof Loner Mercenary aside, what he was really saying was “I want to spend my life with y’all if you want to spend it with me.”

And it was an appealing offer.

They all liked Gigan. He was one of the only beings they’d met from any world but their own that understood, intimately, what it was to be unwillingly modified into a weapon of war, a living creature redesigned to destroy planets, and to have to escape that; and of those few beings who understood, most others had tried to shake off and recover from these pasts by returning to being people, while Gigan and Ghidorah had taken their freedom and used it to double down on the only thing they knew how to do: destroying planets. And while Ghidorah was viciously opposed to talking about their history, they appreciate that Gigan, just, gets it.

Plus, he was a fantastic warrior—and after a life of nothing but violence, a talent with violence went a long way with them. It was a joy to watch him fight, kill, destroy; to see his blades slice through whole civilizations. He was a joy to spar against. He could leave vicious wounds on them, and if they’d ever decided to kill each other, they weren’t sure which of them would win; but they could trust him to never give them any damage they couldn’t recover from, and he didn’t.

Plus, he could tell the three of them apart—bothered to tell the three of them apart—and effortlessly slid between conversing with them as a collective or talking to each of them individually the same way they could slide between thinking together or separately. He gave them nicknames when he had to make clear which one he was speaking/referring to—usually “lefty,” “righty,” and “front and center”—but understood that they didn’t have names, they weren’t going to have names, and he had neither the right nor the ability to “““help””” them put labels to their identities.

Plus, he had this way of taking joy from his life and his work—others might call it “brutal sadistic glee”—that made them feel a bit brighter just for being around it. Like, even though Gigan and Ghidorah had been broken apart in the same way by their home worlds—and even though, arguably, they were still broken—Gigan found genuine pleasure amongst the pieces and shards, pleasure that Ghidorah lacked. They were drawn to his ferocious positivity.

To Third, the offer to travel together was a dream come true. It was fair to say that they were all in love with Gigan a little bit, but Third was really in love with him. They had the same sense of humor—i.e., violent, cruel, and usually ending with somebody’s death. Sometimes a lot of somebody’s deaths. They both had the same way of trying to seek delight and entertainment in the tiny, tiny things—the curved tube of a neon sign, the unfamiliar smell that smoke made on an alien world, the twirling of a few lonely pieces of paper blowing down an otherwise-still city street at night. The few awkward times that Gigan did try to broach the topic of their similar pasts, First recoiled at the thought of cracking open the hard shell they’d built together around their trauma, Second did as he always did by mentally curling inward into the trio, while Third strained toward the possibility of making that kind of connection with someone else. When they all admired his skill in battle, Third was the first to admire his aesthetics. When they fought each other, Third was the first to feel a physical want from being so close to him.

Ghidorah’s life was like a barren moon: cold, dark, muffled, covered in dust and ash, black and gray, lifeless. They had long accepted that that was just what life was like for a creature like them. Gigan exposed the possibility of a brighter life—a life that was like a world with volcanoes and earthquakes and multicolored skies and rain and lightning, destructive and colorful and vivid and ever-changing—and Third yearned to be in that world with them.

To First, Gigan’s offer was the biggest possible threat to their life. Their life was cold, gray, and ashen for a reason. It was that way because anything that came into their life except each other could exit their life—even immortal creatures can be broken—and if they loved something too hard, then the grief of the loss would whittle away what little will to survive they’d kept an iron grip on. On a long enough timeline, everything dies; and if they start bringing ephemeral things into their lives, then slowly the loss of those ephemeral things will break them down and eventually kill their will to survive, and that’s the end of Ghidorah.

They’d all agreed to keep the universe at arm’s length long ago, for this very reason of survival—and now Third was ready to toss aside that agreement and endanger them all? Yes, it was true that First liked Gigan too—they all did—but that was dangerous. They’d let him get too close and become too important without meaning to.

Second, the most inwardly-turned of the three, quietly set aside his own preference, whatever it was, in order to assess the other two’s positions. And he’d sided with First, although he didn’t like it; and First and Second wore down Third.

So the fact that Gigan had asked to unite their lives together—and the fact that it sounded so so wonderful to them—was exactly why they had to leave.

I hope I’ll be able to write some actual fic showing what their dynamic was like at some point.

[kaiju-gods]

Victims of War

CW: Non-descriptive blood and gore, and thoughts of dying 

Ship: Mothda

Word count: 2662 total 

Fic under the cut:

The Titan war, a constant battle that had stretched so long that no one can even remember what had started it, and no one cared as long as blood was shed they were satisfied. In this war you could die at any second and not a single soul would remember that you existed. Even those granted with the ability to be reborn could die if they’re egg was destroyed during the process of rebirth. 

This entire conflict made the weak titan Mothra stay in constant hiding, although she could fight she was fragile compared to any other titan. She hated fighting in general but the killing made her livid, she strived to make peace among the others but she’d be squished like a bug if she tried. She had a strong hunger for peace but she was starving.

She had resided in a small seaside cave since the very beginning of the war, so hidden that it was almost impossible to find. Mothra spent all of her time trying to sleep and ignore the part of her that scream to stop the fighting but this part always won. 

This very day was like every other before it, silence everywhere except the woman's mind. 

At least that's what it was supposed to be like…

Mothra could hear someone crawl into the cave, and from how loud they were, this person must have been huge compared to her. She could hear how the claws dug deeply into the ground below. The four armed woman cowared in the deepest part of the cave next to her egg hiding from the intruder. Mothra spent the next couple of minutes in silence waiting for the invader to crawl deeper into the cave and put her out of her misery caused by this world. She wanted her life to end more than anyone else on this planet. 

At least the delicate fairy-like woman had thought that until she started to hear sobbing from the caves entrance, it sounded so weak and fragile, almost like her own. Mothra couldn’t stand it, it made her feel bad for this mystery titan, even if she was killed in the process she had to check on them. 

She tip-toed to the entrance, the cry getting louder and the pain of it getting stronger. As she peered around the corner she spotted a tall tan woman with long turquoise hair and a blue dress laying on the cave’s damp cold ground, a puddle of blood beneath her. 

Other than this womans sobbing a light mumble could be heard “ I don’t want to die like this, I can’t die like this, I refuse…” the woman croaked. She rolled over a bit so now her wounds were now visible to Mothra, deep claw marks dug deep through her abdomen. The winged woman let out a gasp at the sight of what had been done to the woman in blue but thanks to the sudden noise the mystery woman immediately swung all of her attention to the white haired girl. 

Although gravely injured she looked vicious and ready to kill “ who goes there?!” she screamed, her voice still trembling. 

Mothra no longer had fear, if she were to die trying to help the blue woman then so be it, at least she died trying to get out of her fearful state of mind. She took a deep breath and walked closer “Me ma’am, I’m sorry to intrude…” she said in a soft voice as not to make anything worse. 

There was a long silence as the blue haired woman just stared at her before sighing “If you’re going to kill me little lady go ahead I can’t try stopping you, so put me out of my misery”

“Wait no I don’t want to kill you at all-”

“I don’t care, kill me, and parade the fact that you did it for fame I don’t care, I want this to end!” she yelled.

Mothra paused at this, ‘how much did she really want to die? Was this woman suffering just like her? Was she not as alone as she had previously thought?’ she thought before snapping back to her senses. “No I refuse to do such a thing, I don’t want to kill you I want to help you!”

“Why would another pawn of this war help me? I know you want power just like everyone else on this planet, so do it!” 

“ I am no pawn of this sickening war I’m merely a bystander suffering, I refuse to kill you and I’m helping you no matter what you say!” she managed to yell back. 

The blue hair woman’s face appeared to be in shock from the winged womans retaliation but then she settled herself back done “ and how are you supposed to do that?” 

“ I don’t know, but I’m not leaving you till I can find out.” Mothra said walking closer to the blue haired woman, now having a rush of determination to heal her. 

“I doubt you can but,” she looked up to shorter woman as she took her left arm into one of her two sets of hands “...I can’t thank you enough for trying…” 

  Mothra looked deeply into the now calm woman's eyes “ you don’t need to thank you for being decent, you know?” 

The blue haired woman laughed “ I haven’t seen decency in centuries so really I have to” 

She gave a light giggle in return “oh, you poor thing…” the winged woman got up and grab some nearby shrubbage and started wrapping it around the still fresh wounds. “So do you have a name?”

“Why a matter of fact I do, my name is Manda” She said blissfully “ a better question is, do you short stuff?” 

“ It’s Mothra, my names Mothra…” she said shyly almost forgetting her own name after living in silence for the longest time. 

“My what a beautiful name…” Manda smiled sweetly 

“Now I hope you don’t mind me asking but…” Mothra started nervously “but what happened to you?” There was a long tense moment of silence as Manda look down “Oh that was so rude and disrespectful of me I am SO sorry, please forgive me!” she panicked. 

“ Wait no, no,you don’t have to apologize!” she panicked in return “ I was just in such a rush when it happened that I’m just trying to piece together what happened, that’s all”

“Okay take as much time as you need to tell me Manda” she said getting more shrubage to stop the bleeding

There was a long silence as Manda tried remembering what exactly happened but Mothra was okay with waiting for her. The silence broke as the taller woman spoke “Varan, he is the cause.”

“Who?”

“How do you not know him, he’s one of the most dangerous fighters in this war?” Manda questioned “ he’s killed thousands of other titans and has been here since the very start” 

“I’ve been in this cave for almost the entire time so no I don’t know a single soul outside of these walls”

“I guess you're one of the smarter ones for not getting caught up in this mess then…” she sighed. “ Well this...disgusting vial creature discovered where I kept my egg and destroyed it, which is one of the worst possible things you could do…” she looked up as Mothra’s gaze matched up with hers. “ He then came charging after me and slashed me up” 

“Do you know if he’s still around?”

“I don’t believe he is,” she showed her sharp bloody claws “ I scratched up the bastard pretty good”

Mothra looked away “well at least that’s good I’d rather not have to meet him anytime soon” 

There was another long stretch of silence as the four-armed woman finished up wrapping Manda’s torso. Mothra had not a single clue on what to do now or if there was anything else now past this point. The bleeding had mostly stopped but she had already lost so much blood at this point that she started looking more and more pale. “I don’t think I can do anything else to help Manda…I’m so sorry” 

“Why are you apologizing, you did all you could?”

“But what if you die? You already said your egg was destroyed so know that this will be you last life, you know that right?”

“So be it,” Manda took Mothra’s tiny hands into her own “at least I’ll die knowing at least one person on this planet has a heart strong enough to save someone like me…” 

Although Manda’s hands were cold and almost lifeless she never wanted to let go of her new friend. Mothra cupped the taller woman’s face with her other set of hands “and I’m honored to be viewed like that by you my friend…” 

Manda gave a weak smile “It’s amazing how someone can be honored by anything a monster like me has to say…” 

“How are you a monster?”

“I’ve fought in this war as much as everyone else yet an angel like you can forgive and try to save my disgusting life…” 

“But just like me you want the fighting to end don’t you” Mothra asked. Manda only responded with a quick nod as she leaned her face into Mothra’s left hand. “Then you aren’t a monster Manda you’re a victim of this war just like me or anyone else that wants this all to end”

The blue haired woman spent the next few minutes gazing into Mothra’s warm welcoming eyes and smiled “I wish there were more people in this world like you…”

“You don’t have to wish Manda, I can already tell that you and me are more alike than I had originally thought”

“I guess we are…” she gave a slight chuckle as she looked out of the entrance of the cave as the sun began to finally set, the reflection laying softly on the ocean's surface. “I can’t believe the day I’m dying is the best I’ve ever had, and it’s all thanks to you” 

“I’m glad I could give you one good part of life to remember” Mothra said removing her hands from her face and wrapping them around Manda’s body pulling her into a tight hug.  

Manda returned the embrace staying silent and enjoying what may be her final moments before speaking “I think it’s time for me to rest now…” 

“Alright I hope to see you in the morning…” Mothra said starting to get back back up and to the deepest part of the cave

“Wait Mothra!”

“Yes?” she hummed looking back at the injured woman

“Can you,” Manda looked up “please stay with me I don’t want to be alone, I'm still scared of what will happen to me…” 

Mothra had already forgotten about what was going to happen to her only friend as she had gotten lost in her cold but loving embrace “of course Manda it’s the least I could do” she moved back into her spot and continued to embrace her. She had only just noticed how much larger Manda was compared to her as her hands danced around her curves admiring ever part of her as Manda played with her soft fluffy hair. Mothra closed her eyes as she lightly placed her hands on the taller woman’s wounds, hearing no protest from her friend. She slowly fell asleep as she felt a flurry of emotions the Manda had given her, sadness, remorse, happiness, motivation, and something else that felt stronger than the others but was unidentifiable. It made her feel as if she had yearned for someone like this new friend for centuries and like she could spend her entire life like this by Manda’s side in a strong embrace. 

Slowly Mothra’s eyes fluttered open and it was suddenly morning, as if she hadn't slept at all and was just lost in thought. She tried pulling Manda closer but she couldn’t feel her, the four-armed woman jolted up looking frantically for the woman that had blessed her dreams but she was nowhere to be seen. The thoughts that the only one she could trust had died over night and disappeared had flooded her mind. Mothra got to her feet and looked everywhere in the cave for any trace of Manda but found nothing, she began to cry so panicked the missing woman. The panic made her so light headed that she stumbled out of the cave and onto the shore and sat down letting her emotions take over her as the tears dripped down. Did she really just lose her only friend, her only anything? 

The sobbing continued as she felt something brush the hair out of face, something that felt familiar. She opened her eyes and saw the one she was seeking, Manda seemed less pale than the day before. The blue haired woman laid on the sandy shore and the other half in the ocean. 

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?” she asked 

Mothra pulled Manda into a tight hug to her surprise “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay!” she shouted her tears still pouring. 

“Yes I’m fine, I’m perfectly fine angel” she said pulling herself out of the hug. 

“Oh thank goodness, how are your injuries?” 

“ Well actually,” Manda said coming out of the ocean completely and sitting next to Mothra “the ones where you left your hand last night are completely gone?” 

“How could it only be those ones?” she pointed at where they once were “there isn’t even a single scar left? And how was it only the place where I left my hand?” 

“I’m not very versed in these kind of things but you could possibly be a healer?” Manda said “That’s quite impressive honestly, very few have that ability, even less that are still alive” 

Mothra paused “Do you believe that could come in handy in this war?”

“What do you mean, I thought you hated this war? Why would you want to suddenly get involved?” 

“I never said for fighting anyone I mean to stop it”

“Please elaborate I’m curious”

“I’m saying that if I keep healing others maybe I can change their minds on their constant need to fight?” Mothra spoke “I’m sorry that made no sense…”

“No,no, I kinda get where you’re coming from” Manda replied “So if you show enough kindness to the weak and wounded they’ll switch sides and eventually you can beat out the leaders of this war so it can end?”

“Yeah like that!” the four-armed woman exclaimed, “but I think I’ll need someone to help me with this…”

“Well if you’re referring to me you don’t even have to ask Motha, after the kindness you showed me I owe you all the help I can give” 

Mothra leaned on Manda’s shoulder “thank you Manda, it means a lot that you actually care…”

She twirled her long hair “it’s nothing really Mothra…” 

“So anyways I have another question to ask of you Manda” Motha said poking her two fingures together

“Go ahead speak your mind little lady”

“Soooo I was thinking since you and I are friends now, right?” 

“Wait just frie- I mean um yes of course we are, what about it?” Manda stuttered 

“Is it okay if I just stick with you?” Mothra asked, as Manda only raised an eyebrow in response.

“Like can we share the same shelture and all that stuff? I’m not gonna staple myself to you, I just really like you-” she said mumbling the last part “-r company..yeah your company!”

“Hmm, I suppose so, I usually stay underwater but I guess I’ll stay on land for you since you don’t look like the best swimmer” 

“Oh thank you, thank you, Manda staying with you is going to be so great!” Mothra exclaimed. “I can’t wait for it to be just you and me fixing this mess of a war!”

“Me neither Mothra…” she said as she held one of Mothra’s hands “me neither…”

[buffpidgey]

Apparently I haven't read enough 00s fma/hp crossovers, because I don't really know what the formula was, and now I'm curious--what's the formula, roughly, and how does aystiagi violate/subvert it?

Ahhh my cat walked across my keyboard and deleted my first attempt at answering this.

Ok, big points: I’m probably also drawing on other anime crossovers in my generalizations because oh damn. Were there a lot of them and oh damn. Did I read a lot of them.

But a lot of these crossovers have a core of the main characters coming in and very often making friends with Harry and Co. Maybe there’s a bit of standoffishness between Harry and Ed, but it ends up with everyone learning everything.

There’s also always always the overdramatic boggart scene. Not that I don’t like a good boggart! But a lot of times people have given boggarts way more power than I think they have/should have. These are creatures who hide and use shapeshifting to try and SCARE people off. If they’re scaring, they’re bluffing, and bluffs are, by their nature, lies that can’t do what they’re promising.

Anyway, aside from Cerulean Silver and Amber Gold and its echos where Ed is contracted to protect DRACO instead of Harry, the other common variation is where either Ed or Roy are professors at Hogwarts.

I never read many of those; I just can’t buy Ed as a teacher of people his age, or if he’s aged up I’m not really interested in that, and I’m not interested enough in Roy that his presence alone out of the FMA cast would last me through the story.

Centering in on the ‘Ed as bodyguard’ subset of these crossovers, it seems that Ed is folded into the Trio’s plotting very easily, that he’s willing to work with people in the Order, and that his English is already good.

Looking at FMA now I’m realizing that Ed isn’t actually great at People? Like, if he doesn’t have a goal in mind he’s pleasant, but he’s suffered the exact kind of phenomenon as real life kids who were in gifted programs- he’s got all the book learning, but his interpersonal skills are. Not great.

(See: how when a dude insults Winry’s automail he decides he needs to sabotage the arm wrestling contest. True it’s a very shonen thing to do, but not super mature, especially in how he goes from 0 to 60 at the drop of a hat there)

I think people have overestimated how interested Ed would be in Harry’s life in general? Ed’s NOT interested in people. Or he tries not to be. He’s hyper-focused on his goal, and any help he gives on the way to that is almost incidental. It’s overhearing one muttered phrase that convinces Ed to save the mines, and it’s Cornello’s own escalations that pushed Ed to overthrow him.

Though I will admit that if Ed learned that the guy was aiming to start a war or something, he would have put his foot down then too.

So sure this Harry kid has a guy after him, but the guy doesn’t have the stone, there are no rumors that would lead him to the stone, so Ed is going to focus on trying to find THAT as much as he can while protecting this Harry kid while they’re inside what is considered one of the most well protected places in the country, if not the planet.

Another thing that I know I do differently is having Ed not having issue with magic. A ton of these fics love to have Ed baffled and indignant at the issue that magic could be a THING. Which, to a certain point is fun. But I think at the end of the day trying to dissect how HP magic works in a physics sense is less fun because it’s not supposed to work like that and if the author isn’t careful it turns into a headcanon with like 2k added words describing investigative actions that could have been used to build narrative tension, but that’s just my opinion.

There are more notes I could make - like how people often throw Ed through The Gate to get him into crossovers and that adds a huge layer of confusion (which can be good or just messy depending), but you asked for a rough outline and this is already getting long.

So.... what I do different in AYSTAGI....

I think the biggest thing that I’ve done is that I’m focusing less on a kind of ideal where everyone would get along, and more of an emphasis on the negative qualities of Ed an Harry’s interpersonal skills at this point in their lives.

I’m also trying to balance these failings on each of the boys’ parts. They’re both making mistakes- though I think I should into balancing out Harry’s part of it a little more. They’re both unreliable narrators in their own ways.

Harry is so damn fed up with everyone not telling him everything that when his new Order mandated buddy doesn’t immediately get on the same wavelength as him and his friends, he sees it as another betrayal, and he’s not entirely wrong. Harry is at a very awkward place as a protagonist at this point in the story, because aside from DA he’s very much REacting to things that are happening, and not ACTING ON things like he does in the latter half of the books.

Meanwhile, Ed has a bad habit of thinking of his age peers as “kids” even though Harry has probably seen almost as much deadly action as Ed has at this point in Ed’s career. (If Ed had been in a Basalisk-level fight before canon I think we would have heard about it.) He’s still in the bad habit of almost ignoring the people around him (like he kinda did while he was still in school), and also assuming that they’re not likely to be willing/able to understand what’ he’s trying to do/going through.

Another thing I’m TRYING to do is to have Ed mess with umbridge in a roundabout way. Inspired by the way he took down Yoki, instead of Ed being openly contemptuous (which he actually rarely is, aside from Roy and a few select villains) I think he’d be more into maneuvering umbridge into a place where she ousts herself. (This bit heavily inspired by one of the last paragraphs in “There may be some collateral damage” by metisket where it’s remarked that all of the... chaos... Ichigo had unleashed during the story would have been nearly the same if Toshiro had gone, just with “more vicious political maneuvering and fewer outright fights”.)

Whether I’ve succeeded in any of these goals/presentations is subjective, but people seem to be having fun reading my attempts!