#like aside from that be free and just share your ships. trade them on the playground like silly bands

[mangora]

Who cares about ship and character discourse. Frolic. Be free. Valid criticism is important but also don’t be afraid to look on the bright side for once. Think about Svetlana ‼️

[peppermintquartz]

Original writing

--

There was always a flag flown from the top of the lighthouse.

Red flags had been used in the past to tell captains out in deep water that the harbor was open, that ships could dock safely. Black flags meant that the harbor was closed - perhaps it was already full, and there were ships docked for repairs.

And if there was a long white and blue pennant streaming with the red and black, it meant that the harbor was under attack and all available shipcrew were to answer the call of the house of Alwyth.

It had been at least three hundred years since all three colors had flown from the lighthouse.

More than five hundred years ago, the people of the islands east of Aleis chose their side: the one house in all the lands to offer their ports. Over the next few generations, the Alwyths crafted free trading agreements, requesting just a docking fee and a flat tax per ship per year.

And once Liria staked her claim on Halimgor, the first thing she did was to secure the support of the six captains who led the Harbor Court.

"You are certain they aren't going to stab me the moment I set foot in it?" Zerrul asked Liria over breakfast on the second morning of their voyage.

"I have sent word ahead that the Crimson Compass is allowed to dock, and that Captain Zerrul wishes to speak with his fellow captains." The duchess poured a cup of hot tea into Zerrul's wide-bottomed mug. "Whether they stab you is not up to me."

Between them, first mate Deel chuckled and took a slice of salted meat and tucked it into a bun. "I would think all of them would try to stab you," he said. "You did monopolize all of Izdahl's waterways. All that gilt, flowing right into the coffers of the Compass."

Zerrul waved that consideration aside. "I'm willing to negotiate a partial share of the canals. But I want the Compass back in Port Halim. The winds are changing, and I don't like where they're blowing."

"So long as they don't blow me away from thee, captain," said Deel fondly. He stood and pressed a gentle kiss to his captain's tattooed cheek, before bowing politely to Liria. "Duty calls. The men will slack without a stern voice and a quick hand keeping them on task."

After Deel left the cabin, Liria cocked her head and stared at Zerrul. "He's a beauty," she remarked. "How did you land him?"

"He insisted on serving on my ship," said Zerrul. His lips twitched, as if hiding a tender smile. "And he wanted to share my bed, too, after two seasons out running the black tides and coming so close to death as to shake hands with it."

"Your wife knows?"

"She likes him even better than I do." Zerrul snorted. "They get on famously when I'm ashore, going out and about like they're cheating on me. But she's a smart on, Sikka. Says it was better that I had a man who can keep me warm on board than for me to visit the whores or other port rats whenever I drop anchor, and he'll watch me when she's not able to do so. Two of them, Creation help me, keeping me from doing what I want."

The grumble was so affectionate and loving that Liria could not help feeling a little jealous. The captain was confident, powerful and attractive, certainly, but not handsome the way her brother or Deel was. Yet he could find two persons in his life who loved him enough to share their lives with him.

Perhaps she had not guarded her expression well enough. Zerrul's smile became genuine and kind.

"You are still young, your grace, and you have just won your seat, with much struggle," he said. "Time will lead you to what you're meant to find."

[p-artsypants]

Blurb #44

I'm going to try to share 70 blurbs from my WIPs and unfinished fics to celebrate reaching 70 posted fics! To help with this endeavor, please feel free to send me a word or a fandom you know I write for, and I'll share the blurb. IDK if I'll get 70 prompts, but let's try it! Send as many as you want!

Operating the elevator with two plates was a little tricky, but he managed to hit the button for the bottom floor without dropping anything. Down he went, farther than he ever thought he would on this excursion, and when the door opened, he was peering into darkness.

He stepped off the elevator, and the doors closed, leaving him in blackness.

“Hm.” He hummed to himself, wondering if he had gone down too far. But Sabine said the bottom most floor, so this must be right?

Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the shadows, and he could see scant light filtering through the iron pipes that made up the hallway.

“All the way to the end, turn right, then all the way to the end, turn right again, and follow that hall.” He muttered Sabine’s instructions.

He walked until he bumped into some pipes, and the turned right. This hall had wood on the left side, making up the outside of ship. He could see closed portholes cut out of the wood. On his right was about a dozen laser canons, with tiny blinking lights on them, letting him know they were ready to go.

He rushed down that hall.

His next right turn gave him a curved hall, but he could see the light on the end. These walls were lined with machines, no doubt computers to send attack commands to the lasers.

And then he found her. Amidst all this cold, dark metal. She had a light on, so she was perfectly illuminated.

A porthole was opened behind her, as she sat on a wooden bunk, built into the hull of the ship, elevated above the rest of the portholes and cannons.

Her bed could very well be destroyed first if they ran into any fights.

She was working on a project, what looked to be half a scarf draped over the edge of the bed, and two sticks whirled around in her hands.

He cleared his throat.

She startled, and then looked to him. “Y-your majesty!” She flailed, tossing her project aside. “What—I’m sorry, how did you get here? Why are you here? It’s so dangerous! Are you lost? I’ll show you back upstairs!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her frantic ranting. And it was refreshing to not have her asking for permission to—well, do anything. Most would ask for permission to speak or ‘please allow me to escort you back upstairs.’

But no. She was probably treating him like she treated everyone else. Minus the title.

“Actually, I came to see you.”

“You—to see—me?!? But—“

“Here, I brought you dinner.”

“Oh! I’m not supposed to—“

“And they’re going to tell the Crown Prince that he can’t feed someone? Especially when I’m paying for the food?”

She swallowed, staring at the plate. “Well, no, I just—don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“How would I get in trouble?”

“It just—the Duke doesn’t like you talking to me.”

“Well, what the Duke doesn’t know won’t hurt him, will it?” He winked at her.

She blushed, and then smirked herself. “I didn’t know the Prince had a rebellious side to him.”

“I might have a streak.” The smug smile dissolved slightly to something more pathetic. “I won’t have the chance to rebel when I’m king, anyways.” He gestured to her bunk. “Mind if I join you?”

“Oh please, be my guest!” She leaned down and took the plates from him so he could climb the ladder.

“Hey, this is pretty nice!” He looked around the nook. He kicked off his boots so he wouldn’t get dirt on her sheets. “You have an actual bed! I think only me, my father, and Chloe have mattresses.”

“It’s a trade off for sleeping down here.”

[otiskeene]

Introduction To Marketing Funnel

For all the coffee enthusiasts out there, let's take a moment to appreciate how that first sip of coffee can instantly brighten your day. But let's put coffee aside for a second because today we're diving into a fascinating book called The Coffee Trader by David Liss.

Set in 17th-century Amsterdam, the book follows Miguel Lienzo, a Portuguese trader who maneuvers through the intricate world of the Dutch East India Company's coffee trade. Through Lienzo's journey, we get a glimpse of the importance of customer relationships, quality control, and the art of building loyalty, even in a highly competitive market.

Even though this story is set centuries ago, the concept of providing a memorable customer experience is timeless. While we no longer rely on sailing ships or trade routes for our coffee, the principles of delivering a great buying experience still hold true. What has evolved since Lienzo's time is the development of the Marketing Funnel—a detailed, strategic approach to guiding consumers from initial awareness to final purchase.

In this article, we’ll explore what Marketing Funnels are, the top strategies for success, and much more. Let’s dive in!

With the advent of digital marketing, promoting a product has become more complex than creating the product itself. There are countless options—Google Ads, email campaigns, social media promotions, and more. The big questions are: what to promote, where to promote it, and most importantly, how to promote it.

Fortunately, there’s one strategy that acts as a rulebook to help you map out your entire customer journey: the Marketing Funnel. Think of it as a GPS for your customer’s journey, guiding them from initial awareness to becoming a satisfied customer.

There are various stages, strategies, and metrics to consider throughout the journey. Before diving into these details, let’s take a closer look at what a Marketing Funnel is.

Understanding the Marketing Funnel

A Marketing Funnel is a visual model that represents the steps a prospect takes from first learning about a product to becoming a loyal customer. The funnel is wide at the top and narrow at the bottom, symbolizing how many prospects enter the funnel but only a few make it to the end. It's a process of creating awareness, nurturing interest, and building relationships that lead to conversions and brand advocacy.

Just like a physical funnel, the Marketing Funnel starts broad at the top with many individuals at the awareness stage. As they progress through the stages of interest, consideration, and decision, the number of prospects narrows down, but their engagement and likelihood of conversion increase.

You might be wondering: what are the stages of this customer journey? Let’s break them down next!

Stages of a Marketing Funnel

The Marketing Funnel typically consists of four stages. Let’s explore these stages using the example of our website, www.techdogs.com.

Awareness: This is where you catch the attention of potential customers. Example: A viral meme shared on social media, a catchy headline on Google News, or an eye-catching infographic that draws users to the website for the first time.

Interest: Once visitors are on the site, the goal is to keep them engaged. Example: Compelling articles on trending topics, listicles that resonate with your audience, or in-depth reports that keep visitors exploring your website.

Desire: This stage involves fostering a deeper connection with your audience. Example: Offering a well-crafted newsletter with exclusive content, early access to events, or free downloads to convert visitors into leads.

Action: The final stage is about turning visitors into loyal customers or subscribers. Example: A pop-up inviting users to subscribe to a newsletter, or a well-timed promotion that encourages direct action.

Each stage of the funnel requires different types of content and tactics, depending on the product and business. Together, they guide visitors from casual browsers to loyal fans of your brand.

Now that we’ve covered the stages, let’s discuss some strategies to create a successful Marketing Funnel.

Strategies to Create a Successful Marketing Funnel

The Marketing Funnel is a visual guide to the customer’s journey, from awareness to purchase. Here’s how to optimize each stage:

Top of the Funnel (TOFU): This stage is about casting a wide net to attract a large audience.

Create valuable content like blogs and videos to educate potential customers.

Leverage influencers for broader reach.

Use paid advertising to increase brand exposure.

Metrics: Monitor website traffic, social media engagement, and email sign-ups.

Middle of the Funnel (MOFU): At this stage, the focus is on nurturing interest and building relationships.

Offer lead magnets like free eBooks or webinars.

Develop email nurture sequences to engage leads.

Encourage product demos to showcase your offerings.

Metrics: Track lead generation, email engagement, and time spent on the website.

Bottom of the Funnel (BOFU): This is the decision stage, where leads convert to customers.

Offer free trials or consultations.

Use retargeted ads to remind potential leads of your offerings.

Create urgency with limited-time offers or discounts.

Metrics: Measure sales, conversion rates, and customer acquisition costs.

By understanding and optimizing each stage of the Marketing Funnel, you can create a smooth customer journey that leads to increased brand awareness, higher conversions, and business growth.

Final Thoughts

In today’s digital landscape, Marketing Funnels are essential for achieving sustainable growth. By optimizing each stage of the funnel, you can build strong customer relationships, attract new leads, and drive your business forward. If you’re marketing a product or solution, make sure to leverage the Marketing Funnel as a key strategy.

And as a bonus for our readers, we’ve got some tips to help you upgrade your B2B Sales Funnel!

[ltlfreighthub]

Colorado to South Carolina LTL Freight Quote

As inter-state commerce continues to boom in the United States, businesses are constantly seeking efficient and cost-effective ways to transport goods from one state to another. One such route that has gained considerable attention recently is the Colorado to South Carolina Less Than Truckload (LTL) freight route. This editorial delves into the dynamics of this route, highlighting the potential benefits of obtaining a Colorado to South Carolina LTL Freight Quote for your business. Nestled in the heart of the United States, Colorado is a bustling state known for its diverse geography, which encompasses arid desert, river canyons, and the snow-covered Rocky Mountains. Aside from its scenic beauty, Colorado boasts a thriving economy, with a strong focus on industries such as technology, aerospace, and agricultural products. As such, Colorado has a substantial volume of freight moving both within its borders and to other states. On the other side, the Palmetto state of South Carolina, known for its subtropical beaches and marsh-like Sea Islands, has a vibrant economy, focused on industries such as manufacturing, healthcare, and retail trade. As such, the freight activity between Colorado and South Carolina is a crucial artery in the United States' economic body. Looking at freight services, LTL is an increasingly popular choice among businesses. As opposed to Full Truckload (FTL) services, LTL allows multiple businesses to share space on the same truck for their goods. This not only makes it a more environmentally friendly option, but it also leads to significant cost savings for businesses, especially for those that do not have enough goods to fill an entire truck. In light of these advantages, getting an LTL Freight Quote for Colorado to South Carolina can be a game-changer for businesses. By obtaining a LTL Freight Shipment Rate, businesses can grasp a clear understanding of their potential shipping costs, empowering them to make informed decisions about their supply chain processes. There are various resources available online to help businesses find accurate and competitive Colorado to South Carolina LTL Freight Quotes. These tools provide Free Online LTL Freight Quotes, enabling businesses to quickly and easily compare rates from multiple carriers. Simply by completing a Free LTL Quote form, businesses can have a team of experts analyze their shipping needs and provide the best LTL Freight Shipment Rate. Among the numerous LTL Freight Quote providers, it's crucial to find a service that offers not just competitive rates, but also reliability and excellent customer service. The #1 LTL Freight Quote Rate for Colorado to South Source: https://www.ltlfreighthub.com/colorado-to-south-carolina-ltl-freight-quote/ Colorado to South Carolina LTL Freight Quote

[ofrolysdogs]

ABOUT ME

carrd | @lightfeltmemories

desmond/dess | it/she/they (no he/him) | 20 | selfshipper, oc x canon | neurodivergent (autism & add) | black | taken irl

this account is essentially a safe space for me to fully be myself, which includes selfshipping, oc x canon, self indulgent art and fanfics, if you are the type of make fun of people for their interests, this account is not for you.

current fixation: one piece

current character fixation/selfship: buggy

aside from the basic racists, transphobes, anybody in that genre, i don't have a dni, if i don't like you, i ignore or block you, simple, but here's a byf so you know what to look out for.

im neutral ship, meaning i don't side with either proshippers/dark/comshippers or anti shippers, i find both sides bothersome and toxic, while i'm not the one to ship minors with adults or relatives with one another, i also find it pretty stupid to tell people to off themselves over some pixels, just be normal, set your boundaries and have fun.

i like hisoka, mahito, griffith, i don't post about them often but i'm letting you know if you're uncomfortable with these characters whenever i do eventually get fixated on them.

i write rpf (nothing problematic), i only write for football/soccer players (i'm also an arsenal fan)

i block people who share my f/o's or ship my f/o's with their ocs if they ever interact or follow me, I am bold enough to admit I am uncomfortable sharing my f/o or seeing characters i ship with my ocs being shipped with their ocs, seems harsh, but hey, at least i don't harass people over it, and to be real, the internet would be a better place if we all did it.

I ship what I want, I draw what I want, and I write what I want, criticism is fine but if you spread negativity depending on how I feel in the moment you’re either getting cussed out or straight up blocked.

I only do commissions (prices can be found on my carrd), no art trades or requests, only mutuals receive free art.

do not repost my art to different sites even with credit, do not translate or repost my fanfics.

i don't roleplay with any of my ocs or comfort characters, don't use my ocs for your stories without my permission, and if you want to draw them, tag me or let me know beforehand.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈

[kyberconfessions]

No Matter Where You Go, I Will Find You. Part 2

Here it is everyone! Part 2! You all make me so happy, it’s been so long since I wrote something and so much longer since I shared it. All your reblogs and likes have made me so happy.

As always:

This will eventually be a 18+ older fic and will deal with anxiety, death, sex,  PTSD, murder, loss, found family, Order 66, and coming to terms. This is not just a fluff fic. It will very much be dealing with very dark and hard themes, so please, if that is something that can be too hard for you, don’t read.

Pairings: Rex x Reader x Cody (polyamory)

Rating: 18+

TW: Death, Murder, infanticide, death of the Jedi, PTSD, Loss, Anxiety, eating disorders, sleep disorders, Order 66. I will add other things as I think about them

Part 2: Utterly Alone

     You couldn't believe Hondo. Making you come to him for that information. It was just like him to hold out on you right when he was getting to the good stuff. Of course he wanted you to meet these ‘clients’ of his before he would offer up whatever he had. Honestly, if he weren’t Hondo Ohnaka, you probably would have killed him long ago, which is why he knew he could pull these stunts.  You shook your head and finished putting on your gear: black pants with pockets and clips, a black shirt covered in darkly painted duriplast armor, twin blasters on your hip and thighs, a large vibroblade on your belt, a few droid poppers in a pouch, thermal detonators in another, and various other tools of your trade. 

A far cry from your sand colored robes and saber hilt on your hip. What would your Master say if he saw you now? He would probably be ashamed. No, that's not true. Obi-Wan Kenobi would never have felt shame when it came to you, he would have been so proud of you for surviving. 

You shook your head free of those thoughts and went to stand in front of the closet next to your bunk. Your hand slowly grazed the lockpad, letting the door whoosh open. 

Your life's work was in that closet.

Half of everything that was ever important to you was in there. You looked up, gazing at the old and scratched armor, the golden paint fading from it. It had taken you nearly 16 years, but you had almost every piece of Cody's armor. You had killed for some pieces, you had purchased others, and the rest you had found scattered across the stars. It was the only thing you had left of him. The only thing you had left of your home. All you were missing was his helmet. 

One day you hoped to find that as well. If you couldn't hold him in your arms again, you would honor his memory this way.

The closet across from Cody's hurt more, though. That closet you had set aside for Rex. But search high and low, you never found anything of his. Not a whisper, not a glove, not even a mention of his name. It was like he was wiped off the galaxy after Mandalore. 

You had gone back there, scoured the planet for any sign. All you had found was ash and bone. A dead, rotting planet, filled to the brim with ghosts and monsters. You heaved a sigh and touched Cody's glove, holding it up to your cheek.

"I wish you were both with me right now. You'd know what to do. You always did."

You sighed and closed your eyes, thinking of their faces.

"I miss you both so much. I'm not sleeping well anymore. But, I always did sleep better sandwiched between you two. Kriff. I know Hondo is going to worry, he always does. Nosey nerf herder. I just....I keep seeing your faces. And I keep hearing your voices and I just can't... I can't do this anymore without you. If you're out there, if you're watching over me, please know I am so sorry. I'm just so sorry."

Your tears cut you off while you choked on a breath.

You looked up to the headless suit, touching his cuirass and gently letting go of the glove. Your hands left the armor and rubbed your eyes free of tears. You had to steel yourself, who knows what kind of people Hondo would want you to meet with. 

You stepped back and closed the door, hiding away your most prized possession. Only Hondo knew about what you had. He had helped you find every piece of your prized armor. He tracked every lead, every serial number, every black market arms dealer selling Clone Era tech. As cunning and double crossing as he was, he cared for you. He cared for Kenobi more, but your connection to the Jedi Master was what compelled him to watch over you. He's who saved you and gave you shelter in the beginning, anyways.

You were curled up in a ball on the bench across from him, head resting on the transparisteel, watching as hyperspace went by. Your face was colorless, your eyes were red, and your lower lip was swollen from where you kept chewing on it. You hadn't spoken a word since Padmé died. It seemed the last 24 hours had taken its toll on you and he knew it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan Kenobi looked at you as Luke whimpered in his arms. 

Gently he reached out to you through the Force, caressing your signature with his. You turned to him, fresh tears falling from your eyes.

"My sweet Padawan, please, talk to me. I can feel your emotions, even without the Force." He shifted the newborn in his arms and stood to sit next to you.

With one free arm, he gently wrapped it around you. It took you less than a second before you felt all your walls crumble and the metaphorical dam break. Obi-Wan would always have that power over you. You covered your mouth with your hand as a sobbed wracked your body, trying to keep quiet for the sleeping baby. He pulled you closer, shifting to hold you against him. You pushed your face into his neck, tears quickly dampening his robes.

"Shhh, little one. It's alright. Let it out. I'm here. You're here. We are alive. I know it seems like nothing will ever be the same, but we must trust in the Force."

He let his Force signature envelop you, warming you. After a few moments, when you felt as if you couldn't cry anymore, you lifted your head from his shoulder.

"Do...do you think they're dead, Master?"

He looked at you with a question on his face, but he waited for you to elaborate.

"Do...do you think they made it? Ahsoka and...and Jesse....and...." You swallowed thickly, trying to force his name from your lips.

"And Rex. Do you think they killed her? Do...do you think she killed him?"

Obi-Wan was no fool. He knew how you, his young Padawan, felt for the Clone Captain of the 501st. He also knew how you felt for the brave Marshall Commander Cody. He knew it because he felt the same about another. He knew what it was like to hold a love so deep in your heart, you felt them in your entire being.

"He shot at us, Master. Cody....shot at us. He tried to kill us. He tried to kill me..." your breath stuttered and you hiccuped a few times.

He placed his hand on your head and stroked your hair lovingly, trying to calm you down.

"I know, little one. I don't know what happened or why they turned."

"What if..this was their plan all along?! What if they never were our men?! What if," you stopped as new tears fell at your revelation, "what if Cody and Rex never...never loved me?", you whimpered out in a soft whisper.

He shushed you, gently pushing his forehead against yours, and whispered your name to get your attention. "No, dear one, no. Cody loved you. Rex as well. I have seen that look in a man's eye before. That utter devotion to someone. Devotion much stronger than that of a commanding officer."

More tears fell from your eyes as you realized your Master knew your deepest kept secret.

"You knew?"

"I knew."

"Then why? Why not say anything? Why not report us? You...you are a sitting member of the High Council? I have shamed you! I broke our code!" You rambled. 

He hesitated for a few moments, looking around at the dim area of Organa's ship. They would be arriving to Tatooine soon. And then after he knew not. He knew he had to make his words comfort his Padawan, because this would be his last lesson.

"Sometimes when you find something so profound in a dark time like this, you have to hold onto it. If there is something worth moving on for, if there is something to keep fighting for, you must let it guide you. The Force has always worked in ways we can not explain. 

"I saw how they looked at you, how they would have done anything for you. How you would have done anything for them. I saw because I know those same feelings. I too know what it was like to love someone so desperately. To want to give them the world. I know what it's like to want to leave the Order if they only asked."

He took a moment for his words to sink in and grabbed a hold of your hand to caress the flesh of your knuckles.

"My dear Padawan, I am so proud of you. I have watched you grow from far off in the temple. I have heard the reports of you from your old Master. And I have seen your strength and kindness with my own eyes. You will be not just a great Jedi, but a great person. I only have one last lesson to teach you."

He let go of your hand and moved to hold your cheek, making you look him in the eye.

"This will be the most important thing I will ever impart on you. Live. Live on. Do not let the events of today control you. Do not let the guilt you have in your heart guide you. Live and be strong. Survive. Find whatever makes you happy and hold onto it with all your strength. Be mindful of the Living Force and what it has to teach you. It will guide you."

You leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, letting your Force signatures mingle. 

You wanted to tell him that you loved him, that he was everything you ever wanted to be. That all you ever wanted was to honor the memory of your former Master and to honor him. You wanted to throw your arms around him and hold tight. You wanted to tell him that when you thought of a father, you saw him.

But, before you could say anything C-3PO walked up.

"Master Kenobi, Commander, we have arrived at Tatooine."

You both bid your farewells to Senator Organa and the two droids and left. You had never been to Tatooine and you hoped you never would have to return again. You hoped that you and Obi-Wan would make your way through the Galaxy, Master and Padawan, father and daughter, saving those left behind.

But, that wasn't to be.

It was a short ride on a speeder bike to the Lars farm. A young man and who you guessed was his wife stood waiting, as if they knew you were coming. 

Obi-Wan motioned for you to stay back, which you did, not having the strength to be around people. 

  Your hood was up, protecting your hair and face from the harsh winds whipping up sand.

  It was strange, almost cathartic, watching your Master hand the small baby to the young man. It was almost as if you knew this wasn't the end. But, at the same time, you knew this chapter of your life had closed.

  The two men you had ever loved were gone, dead probably. Your family was shattered. And you were about to say goodbye to the only other person who ever truly saw you.

Obi-Wan walked back to you, fingers grabbing at his mustache and beard, his old habit for when he was deep in thought.

"Master?"

     You rode for a few hours to a small town, Mos Eisley, the terrain passing you by quickly, but you paid no attention. You just held onto your Master as tightly as you could; the last time you held onto him like this, Cody made the order to shoot you down.

He looked to you, his lips set in a firm line, and nodded away, motioning for you to follow him.

You did, without question. You would always follow Obi-Wan Kenobi.

You shook your head of those thoughts against his back, a move not lost on your Master.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT, MY PADAWAN?"

He yelled to you, trying to be heard over the sound of wind whipping by.

"YES MASTER!"

He nodded and let it go, him just as tired as you.

When you finally arrived at the small Smugglers town, you went to secure the bike while Obi-Wan went into a Cantina to make a call.

You didn't know to whom or what for, but you were too exhausted to care. Everything was crashing down on you and all you wanted was just to sleep. But you knew you had to keep going.

After a while, Obi-Wan stepped back outside and motioned for you to follow him in. The twin suns were beginning to set and you had just started feeling the cool air on your face.

Oh well.

Without a word you entered the noisy cantina, the sounds of people and creatures a harsh register to your ears.  There was music coming from somewhere, but you didn't bother to look, too focused on Obi-Wan's back.

It wasn't until he sat you at a table did you bother to look around. Everyone was carrying on, as if the war wasn't over. As if the Clones didn't betray their commanders and friends. As if the temple on Coruscant wasn't burning.. As if the Jedi weren't being systematically hunted down and killed.

Cody would have been disappointed in you.

You had ignored every possible exit, had failed to count the blasters you could see, and had failed to get the seat closest to the wall so you could face the door. But you couldn't be too angry at that one, Obi-Wan was locked on, watching every single person coming in and out.

But above all, you had failed to make a contingency plan to kill every person in the room. 

"Always plan, Mesh'la. Be polite, be courteous, never start a fight, show professionalism. But always have a plan to kill everyone in the room. Always plan to protect you and your own. Smile, but know how you will take everyone out if need be."

At the time you had called him cynical to think that way, but you understood now. You understood all of his lessons were to prepare you for moments like this.

After a while a server brought two bowls of bone broth and two cups of some sort of liquid; you didn't question. 

You waited for Obi-Wan to start eating, before tentatively spooning from the bowl. You ate in silence, neither of you in the mood for conversation. 

   When you were done, you waited for him to move to leave, but he just sat there, staring at the table.

   "Master?" 

   He looked at you then, his eyes were bloodshot and the bags under them made him look older than he was. Or perhaps they showed his true age, his normal boyish charm and good looks fallen away for a moment.

You quickly grabbed his hand in your own and squeezed it, before pulling away and tucking your hand back into your sleeve.   

"We will wait here for a few more hours. Then we will head to the outskirts to meet an acquaintance of mine. From there we will make our next move."

You nodded, sighed, and sat deeper into the rock bench.

A few hours later you were once again wrapped around Obi-Wan's waist, riding out into the desert. It was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim bulb on the front of the speeder. This time, at least, you were smart enough to tear away your robe and use the fabric to make a makeshift wrap for your face and his. This time, you didn't have to have your face pressed against his back. But, it didn't stop you from doing it a few times, hugging him tightly. You both knew that these would be the last moments you spent together. No one said it out right, but you could feel it all the same.

After a while you came upon a ridge, a small ship having landed in the canyon below. You didn't recognize it, but Obi-Wan made for it, which settled the anxiety growing in your chest.

It was larger up close, once you pulled up next to it.

Obi-Wan dismounted and helped you off, your legs slightly jelly from the long ride.

You both stood there, next to the bike, staring up into the hull. You shifted from foot to foot, your anxiety getting the better if you.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and a gentle squeeze before he went to hold your hand.

Even after everything, he still put you first. You were going to miss him so much.

The ramp opened up and a lone figure emerged, wearing a rather strange outfit.

"Master Kenobi! I was so worried. I had heard...rumors"

A strange Weequay man addressed your Master as he joined you on the ground.

"Hondo, it is good to see you, old friend." 

They grasped forearms in greeting before standing apart.

"Is it true, Master Jedi? Are they...."

Obi-Wan heaved a deep, bone weary sigh and nodded solemnly.

"Forgive me, my friend. I did not know. A thorn in my side, your Order may be, but I would never wish this on anyone."

It was then he noticed you, standing next to Obi-Wan just as tired and broken.

"Is this who you contacted me about?"

Your eyebrow raised as you turned to look at your Master, confused.

"Yes. Hondo, meet my Padawan Learner. LIttle one, meet Hondo Ohnaka."

You stepped forward and bowed slightly before returning back to your spot behind Obi-Wan.

"Hello there, Pretty Lady. I am Hondo, Pirate King and best friend to one Obi-Wan Kenobi."

He bowed with a flourish which caused Obi-Wan to roll his eyes.

You giggled though, and that sound had Obi-Wan smile slightly.

"It's nice to meet you, Hondo. Master? What does he mean?" You glanced over to Obi-Wan. You knew, in your heart, that this was it, but it still hurt, still clenched your chest. 

"Ahh, I will be...on the ship. Yes. Don't mind me, just going to do some routine maintenance before take off, have very important business to do...on the ship…" Hondo excused himself in a very Hondo way and walked back up the ramp, before disappearing into the hull.

Obi-wan turned to you and cleared his throat. You could see the anxiety welling up in his eyes, the fear that if he left you and you died, it would be his fault. Just like how Anikan was his fault. And Padme. He couldn't bear the thought of you dying when he could protect you, but, he had to stay. He knew he did. He had to watch over Luke and protect him. It was his new path in the Force.

Before he could speak, you cut him off trying to save him from his guilt. 

"So, this is it. This is where we part ways."

Obi-Wan released the deep sigh he didn't know he was holding and nodded.

"I have to stay. I have to watch over Luke. I can not let…"

"I know, Master." You gave him a tight lipped smile, eyes glassy with fat tears. You could feel your heart breaking, but you weren't sad. 

"Master, I need to tell you something. I don't want this to go unsaid between us," You paused, trying to collect your thoughts. How were you going to say what was on your heart? How were you going to reassure him of everything while being so scared yourself?

Obi-Wan waited patiently, only moving to once again hold your hands in his. There was so much he wanted to say as well, but he was just so tired. He was so very tired and everything pulled down on him more.

You took another deep breath, it was now or never…

"Master? I love you. You are the father I never had. When I think of family, I see you. And Ashoka. And," you choked, "Anakin." Your voice was small, almost lost in the howling winds of the canyon. But still you spoke, letting everything out. 

"All I have ever wanted was to make you proud. I wanted to be the best, not because I should strive to be a better Jedi, but because I wanted to honor you. When I lost my Master, I thought I was going to be forgotten, put aside until after the war, but then you came. You sat there in your chair in the Council Chamber and you saw me. You saw me. Being your Padawan was the greatest honor I could ever have had. I was being swallowed by this darkness in my heart, I was so lost and scared and confused. I lost myself when I lost my Master, but then you were there. You were this light that reached out for me. You pulled me out of that darkness. You anchored me in the present and the Light Side of the Force. Please don't think you've failed me. You haven't. You could never fail me. Obi-Wan Kenobi, you saved me. Everything I will ever strive to be is because of you. You are my father, Obi-Wan. And I love you."

You could feel the tightening in your chest, that anxious squeeze pulling at your insides as you waited for his response. Tears were falling down your face, making muddy tracks on your skin. Obi-Wan, for all his charm and quick wit, was speechless. He just stared at you with big, glazed, blue eyes. You were about to apologize for everything you said, hoping you didn't ruin the last moments with him you had, but then he pulled you to him.

He held you tight, crushing a bit of air out of your lungs. You felt him kiss the crown of your head before you wrapped your arms around him as well. 

You both stood there, holding on for dear life.  You could feel his tears in your hair, from where his cheek was pressed against your head. You could feel his heartbeat against your ear, where your face was against his chest. And you could feel his Force Signature mixed with yours, wrapping tightly around the both of you.

"Wherever you go in this world, whatever you decide to do, please know that I will always be with you. You are so strong, dear one. Don't ever think that I have never been proud of you. Look for me in the Force and you will find me. I will never abandon you."

You squeezed him harder and he held you tighter. You wanted to remember everything about him at this moment. His smell, like ozone and linen, the warmth of his chest, the scratch of his beard on your head, every little tactile sense you had was busy cataloging this exact moment, never to be forgotten. 

You didn't know, but he was doing the exact same thing.

"I will always love you, my brave Padawan."

"I will always love you, Master."

Slowly you both let go of each other, standing still.

There was a noise behind you, someone clearing their throat.

Hondo.

"I hate to break up this beautiful display of fatherly devotion, but, I am sorry, Master Jedi, if I am to take her with me, we must leave now. There is chatter on the com-waves."

Obi-Wan looked over your head at the man above you and nodded once.

"Yes, of course. Thank you Hondo. For everything."

"It is my honor, Master Jedi."

He looked back at you and reached out to squeeze your shoulders, before pulling you into one last hug. 

"May the Force be with you." 

"May the Force be with you, Master."

Slowly he let you go, heartbreak in his eyes. You turned and walked up the ramp, meeting Hondo at the hull opening. 

"We will leave soon, Pretty Lady. Please don't worry, I will keep you safe. I promise."

He nodded at you as you turned to look back at Obi-Wan. Your heart was in your throat and you didn't care that you were sobbing hard and deep. You were leaving everything you knew behind. Everything you are. Everything you have ever been was down there with him. But you knew, if you stayed, they would know. He would know. And you couldn't put Luke in that danger.

The ship started to move, gaining altitude, but still you stayed, watching him on the ground. You wanted to jump, to stay with him, to stay with the last bit of familiar comfort you had, but you didn't. You stayed glued to the side, watching him get smaller and smaller. 

He raised his hand in farewell as you began to shut the door. The air was beginning to thin and you would be in open space in a few moments.

But still you stayed. You stayed, looking at the grey durasteel side of the ship. You stayed, watching nothing as the ship left orbit. You stayed, trying to find purchase on anything as your heart was ripped from you. Cody, Rex, Obi-Wan, Jesse, Gregor, Ashoka, Kix, Fives, Wolffe, Plo, Padmé, Anakin. Everyone you had ever cared for, every single soul you considered family and friends and lovers were gone. Your entire family, your entire order, every single person, was dead. 

You were alone. You were utterly alone. And there was nothing you could do to change it.

[ithinkthiswasabadidea]

We’re Going Home

Set in a future where the Nein and Vilya have defeated Vokodo, we see the people of Vo lifted from Vokodo's influence, and the Mighty Nein must do what they can to help them get home.

.

Imagine, you’re living on an island, in the village of Vo, going about your days cooking, weaving, hunting, planting, mining, giving thanks to your god Vokodo who provides everything for you.

Something clicks inside your head, like a pressure valve releasing, a snap headache rocks you before… a memory comes back. And then another, and another. You… don’t belong on this island, you were never meant to be here. You got shipwrecked, or you were stranded, or you just decided not to leave. Why would you do that?

You had a home, in Tal’Dorei, in Wildemount, in Marquet, but that was… years ago. And now you remember all of it. You remember your name, your real, full name, you remember the family and friends you left behind, you remember the home you had before arriving at this ramshackle village. You notice everyone around you shaking their heads as they have the same revelation, and then you get angry. All of this was stolen from you, by a greedy, arrogant, false god who wouldn’t allow you the dignity of keeping your own memories.

Then, through the sky comes your village leader Viridian, though, that wasn’t her name when she first arrived. It was Vilya. She’s in her wild shape, carrying someone; with her fly two great birds, they carry figures too. They… they must be the new arrivals. They broke the curse. They slew the false god.

They SAVED you.

They land, the village is ecstatic as the story is told, and then comes the doubt and worry. How will everyone get home? The group found ships, but not all on the island know how to sail, and you’re all from different corners of the world.

The group, “The Mighty Nein”, they call themselves, talk to each other through the night, discussing possibilities. The blue tiefling speaks to the air for several minutes, facial expressions switching rapidly between concern, trepidation, happiness. The human man with bright orange hair and a spark in his eye tells the village the plan: for those who cannot or do not want to travel by sea, he can teleport you over the course of a few days to different locations.

The number of you who are content with this give your permission; you will be leaving this godsforsaken island if it’s the last thing these heroes can do for you.

“It seems they’ve done it again. You’re not the first person the Mighty Nein have saved from the brink, and you certainly won’t be the last.”

.

Imagine, you’re Vilya. Youve spent a quarter of a century on this island, happily serving as Vokodo's intermediary and leading the village with your equals, Terra and Lukash. The people love you, but the love somehow can't fill your heart completely, until you awaken and the hole fills with memory of your true family. You gladly hug each member of the Mighty Nein, the small halfling woman swearing you into their party with a solemn ‘Welcome to The Mighty Nein’ and letting you know that you will always be received with open arms if you choose to return. Ever in their debt, you walk into the teleportation circle before you. You’re transported to the Tidepeak Tower in Nicodranis, a city you’re unfamiliar with in all but name, and there waiting for you are two mages, an elf in gold and a lady in blue. The elf makes a noise of quiet surprise and wonder, stating,

The lady takes you by the hand, telling you she will take you back to Tal’Dorei to reunite with your family again. You walk through her teleportation circle, you are finally led to your husband, older but still as handsome as you remember. You meet with your daughter who is all grown up and powerful, with stories and adventures of her own to share. You see all the people you’ve known and loved, and you’re introduced to ones you haven’t met before; your life is instantly enriched with their presence. You live to remember the breakers of your curse and the journey you took with them to free the village that was once a home.

.

Imagine, you’re a human sailor. You spent your time on Vo longing to be back on the ocean, trading, fighting, fishing. The wizard draws a teleportation circle to Port Damali while the monk who stares you down with mirth in her eyes hands you a signed letter and she tells you to make a good impression. You’re led to the circle by the tall barbarian and when you hesitate, she pushes you gently into the circle. You tumble out and into a room, guards quickly opening the door in shock and you shove the letter into their hands; one takes it away. You sit on the floor, tears coming to your eyes as you realise you’re finally home. The leader of the Cobalt Soul archive comes to meet you, letter in hand,

“Another friend of Expositor Beauregard? You lot always like to make your entrances, don’t you?”

You smile, now understanding why the monk looked amused at you as you left. You’re led out to the port, weak at the knees at the sights and sounds and smells of the harbour, and spend your time finding the comrades you left behind. You remember those words the Cobalt Soul archivist said to you, that you’re a friend to the Mighty Nein; you live to hope you will do them proud and some day repay them for their aid.

.

Imagine, you’re an elven merchant. You’re from Zadash, and you were on the way home from a prosperous trip to Marquet, when you stopped by this cursed island to refuel and never left. The large, kind-eyed firbolg of the group takes you aside to get to know your story and asks the tiefling to send a message to a shop owner you once knew in your city. You get confirmation that a friend will be awaiting your arrival. You take a deep breath and step through the teleportation circle, walking into the halls of the Cobalt Soul in Zadash. A face pokes their head around the door, fluffy, bespectacled, with beautiful robes. Someone you’ve sat down to tea and trade with for many years, and not for many years have you been happier to see him again. Pumat Sol takes you by the arm into a hug, chuckling and telling you,

“Respectfully, my friend, if it weren’t for the Mighty Nein, I don’t believe either of us would be here today.”

You gratefully follow your friend back through the streets of Zadash, planning your re-entry into the commerce of the city, though now you place less value in material wealth. You live to trade tales of your adventures and find, unsurprisingly, the Nein are folk heroes to the city also; many citizens attest to the bravery of the party who saved you.

.

Imagine, you’re a smith. You’re from a great line of dwarven blacksmiths and creators. You left your home to search for rare materials to make your creations and name well known across the seas. You spend your time on the island smithing tools, simple hammers and spears, tools of function. Your memories clear of the great forges of Uthodurn, and you realise you were foolish to try to make yourself famous, all you needed was a place to work, your family beside you, and the gifts the All-Hammer gave you. The tiefling and half-orc speak to each other before she send a message away to the wind. The half-orc calms your travel nerves by showing you his blade, the incredible craftsmanship is mesmerising, and familiar, your fears are forgotten. You are led to the circle and roll out into a chamber of the Steeple Archive in Uthodurn, you’ve never been inside before and it is a grand place. You’re quickly escorted outside to a city that has changed just enough to make you worried again, when a stocky figure claps you on the shoulder. You spin into the embrace of Umagorn Smeltborne and he all but picks you up, exclaiming,

“My friend! Finally you have returned, we have much work to catch up on.”

You try to explain how you are here and what has occurred but he holds up his hand to stop you.

“By the grace of the Wildmother who watches over the Nein, the All-Hammer has seen it fit to return you to us.”

You congratulate your friend on his masterpiece of a sword, and vow you will never take your home for granted again. You live to create and learn and grow in prowess, you pay your tributes to the All-Hammer, and you make ones especially for your new friends, should they ever pass through Uthodurn again.

.

Imagine, you’re a dignitary. An orc with a good ear and strong voice for negotiations. You were sent by your queen, many, many moons ago, across the seas on a mission to secure new allies. You cast your mind back to Rosohna, the sweet richness of the dark city, and the queen you have been honoured to serve in your lifetimes. You wonder who is still in her council, whether you will be trusted when you return after all this time. The blue one and the wizard come to speak to you of someone you once knew, the Dusk Captain. The tiefling carefully words her message, asking permission for you to teleport, while the wizard tries to update you on the situation from your homeland. When the circle is ready, you steel yourself and march through, blessedly arriving in the Lucid Bastion. You take a knee, thanking the Luxon for bringing you home, finally. As you rise, you are greeted by the Captain, smiling to see a long-feared-dead member of the council back and well. As she walks with you through the halls, she recounts the changes in the Kryn Dynasty, culminating with the wizard and his friends who held up their missing beacon in front of the queen, and gave them new hope.

“We feared you dead, with no way to come back through the Luxon. The Mighty Nein have assured you your soul in this life and the next.”

You frown, realising the wizard and the group conveniently forgot to mention they were also heroes of the Dynasty. You are confident they shall return to Rosohna, and add your voice to those who reverently bless their coming to the Dynasty. You live to return to your position and help write the new history of the Dynasty, about the aid of the group who gave back your voice.

 .

Connected by land and by sea, The Mighty Nein continue to shape the lives of the people of Exandria. The Nein will bend the knee for kings and queens and nobles, they bow their heads under the gaze of gods and false gods alike, they take their orders to do what they can to better the lives of others.

But at the end of the day, a druid in a far off land, a sailor in Port Damali, a merchant, a smith, a dignitary, a farmer, a smuggler, a Crownsguard, a carnival master, an inventor, a half-dragonborn, a mage, a kenku, a stone giant, a family of clay and dust and stone…

They look to the stars and count their blessings of the people who have irrevocably touched their lives.

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Contending the Flame XII

Author’s note: I’m back after this chapter kicking my butt, I must have rewritten it three times until I was satisfied because it introduces many characters from the show and I wanted to get them just right. Not sure I’m happy with the result still, but yep, here it is. Enjoy lovelies!

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 5347

Warnings: The usual

King Harald's hall smelled like a fishmonger's home, and it was as inviting as a slave trader's ship. Sitting down to a meal with the man, Ivar tried to contain his displeasure at being there. It had been on Hvitserk's face since their ships had treaded through the carcasses of dead whales in the bay. Both the brothers managed to set aside their poor manners when they came face-to-face with Finehair, but it lingered in the backs of their minds, just like the bad smell.

Ivar was able to ignore the pleasantries and idle chatter that Harald was currently speaking. He was much more preoccupied with the dark-haired Queen on the throne adjacent to the King. Astrid, Lagertha's shieldmaiden and bed warmer, was sipping from her horn of mead while giving Harald loving looks. They were practiced and disingenuous, but they did not explain how she came to be here. Clearly not of her free will, but Harald was too besotted to notice her veiled contempt.

To Ivar's left sat Freydis, introduced as his personal thrall. He had gauged for any sort of inkling of familiarity to pass between her and Harald, but alas he only seemed to have eyes for his new Queen. Freydis was too cunning to give away anything on her part, and that left Ivar wondering if she was as great a deceiver as Loki, or that she hadn't been sent by Finehair to begin with.

That put his mind back on Lagertha and Kattegat. She must have been the one to send in a spy. She only cared for Bjorn, and she wanted all of the other sons of Ragnar to perish just like their mother. That was how he saw it anyhow, but he knew his brothers would disagree. They weren't as quick to take up arms against Ragnar's first wife as he was, and that made him feel bitterly alone.

Freydis continued to shower him with compliments and attention, and he lent into the treatment. He needed to keep her close until it was discovered who she was working with, but he was also missing you. She was a strange substitute for your place, holding none of the similarities that had endeared you to him. He was still frustrated by you revealing your name to Heahmund as well, and perhaps this was his way of acting out against you. It was a petty move considering you weren't even there to witness this ongoing dance with Freydis.

"If you were to help me conquer Kattegat," Harald said, catching Ivar's attention. "Would one of you want to be King?"

Hvitserk sent Ivar a look as if to say 'It's a trap'. Harald was looking for humble allies who wouldn't challenge his bid to be King of all Norway. He must not have understood the sons of Ragnar, or he was coming from a place that underestimated them.

"It is our home," Ivar replied vaguely.

"Of course, I understand your attachment. Your father was King before, and then your Queen mother. I respect your family, but Kattegat is also too important a location for trade. I would need it to fuel my war and feed my army. Whoever rules Kattegat must accept that his lead is to benefit me, a mutual working relationship."

"I'm sure that could be arranged," said Hvitserk.

Ivar nodded. "We would be accommodating to your plight."

"And what of Lagertha there now? Perhaps she could make me a better offer?"

If Harald had any sense, he would have noticed his Queen's false looks of adoration had ceased at the mention of Kattegat's current ruler. Ivar gave a smirk that was meant for Astrid.

"If she had anything to offer, she would have already done so," He said, reaching for more mead. "Our army has the numbers. Lagertha will die. She is a usurper and coward."

Astrid had to hide her foul look when Harald took her hand in his, but even through her blank stare could Ivar feel her loathing. Harald continued to stroke her fingers as he spoke. "And how will she die? I do not doubt your heart or courage Ivar, but Lagertha is a shieldmaiden worthy of Valhalla. You cannot achieve a victory hand-to-hand."

Freydis grabbed his hand beneath the table, and he wanted to smack it away. The frustration he felt at himself for not being able to challenge his mother's killer in single combat would always be his greatest failure. He could outwit the legendary shieldmaiden, but at the time of her death, he feared he would not be satisfied.

"I have my own way of getting to Lagertha, but first we need your answer. Will you fight alongside the sons of Ragnar?"

"I count only two of you," Astrid piped up. "Are the sons of Ragnar not of one mind? Where are Bjorn and Ubbe?"

Harald planted an obnoxious kiss on Astrid's mouth before she could turn. "My beautiful wife raises a good question. Where are your brothers?"

"Bjorn is our half-brother," Hvitserk said with a shrug, "And his intentions will always align with his mother."

"And Ubbe is a traitor. He sailed with a handful of our warriors to Kattegat," Ivar said, glad for the lie. His mind slipped to you for a moment, but he shook it away. He had refused to bring you here in person, but even in thought, it was dangerous. You were a distraction that could cause him to make a mistake or have poor judgement, through no fault of your own.

"Then I'm certain Lagertha will be anticipating our assault," Harald said with a frown.

"But she won't have an idea as to when. She knows we will bring the fight to her, but we have the advantage of time," Ivar pointed out, and he could feel Hvitserk's questioning look.

Harald let out a laugh. "You remind me of why I fought alongside your father. I cannot refuse the offer to join with the sons of Ragnar and their army now. Let us share a horn and thank the Gods we have this opportunity to become Kings."

The men each took a drink from Harald's own horn, and Ivar could feel Astrid's eyes following it as it was passed around the table. She was more cunning than he would have ever accredited her to be, which made her a threat to their plans moving forward.

"Tonight you shall sleep in my hall, and tomorrow we can discuss plans for our army."

'Our army'. He certainly wasted no time in claiming their men for his own. Ivar smiled through his irritation. Harald was watching for his reaction. He wasn't so distracted by his new Queen to have lost all sense when it came to a possible enemy.

"We'll take you up on that offer," Hvitserk piped up after the stretch of silence had grown uncomfortable.

"I will have my thralls prepare a room."

Ivar turned to Freydis. "You will assist them."

"Of course, Ivar." She stroked her hand lovingly down his arm.

The sensation shot a shiver down his spine, a reaction he couldn't help. He hated to think he was as weak-willed as his brothers when it came to blonde thralls, but his wavering resolve was laughing at him.

The table began to disband with Harald dragging the unfortunate Astrid back to his room. Ivar and Hvitserk returned outside and began to walk through the streets of Vestfold to return to their men. Hvitserk's mind was buzzing, and Ivar knew his brother had a word or two he wanted to get in.

"We can't go to war against Kattegat with Harald," He started at the moment they were alone. "We'd be betraying our own people, and Ubbe is there with our warriors."

"I know that."

Hvitserk didn't like how short of an answer he gave. "And (Y/N)'s there too. Have you forgotten that?"

"Of course I haven't," Ivar barked back. "But Lagertha is still my enemy, even if you've forgotten that. I can't allow her to live."

"She's my enemy too, brother. I know you loved mother, more than I did. But you also have to know she loved you more than any of us. If you say she didn't then you're either not as smart as I thought, or you're in denial."

Ivar knew it to be true. He knew it all too well when growing up. Ubbe and Hvitserk were closer in age and always together, leaving him alone. All he had to do was let out one small cry and mother would forget about Sigurd, the brother he should have been close to. It was something he exploited at the expense of the relationships with all of his brothers. He had a lot to make up for.

"If we can find a way to unseat Lagertha from the throne, then there would be no cause to go to war."

Hvitserk halted in his tracks as they made it to the docks. The boards were stained red and slick with the blood and oil from whales. Many of Harald's fishermen couldn't be bothered to spare the sons a second glance. They were preoccupied with loading their ships, huffing and puffing through the stink in the air that was not so foul out in the open.

"Please tell me you have a plan to do that," Hvitserk said in a hushed voice that was almost lost to the wind.

Ivar smirked back. "I didn't bring the Bishop along just to annoy you. We just have to get him to Kattegat to kill Lagertha before our army can arrive."

"You're willing to place all our hopes on that Christian?"

"He would do it for his freedom. What's one more dead heathen to him other than another purified soul gone from this earth?" Ivar said confidently. "Yes, brother, I am as certain he will do this as I am that Lagertha is the one to have sent Freydis to me."

Hvitserk was about to comment but was interrupted by an approaching presence that commanded the attention of the crowd. The previously busy workers stopped to part for her, but she was not flattered by the gesture. She marched with purpose, straight towards them, and Ivar gave a half bow in mocking as she arrived.

"Your majesty," He teased. "Not come to plead for mercy on Lagertha's behalf I hope. I have none."

Astrid's look was as dark as her hair, but she set aside her grievances to settle whatever she had come for. "No, Ivar. I have come in the hopes to make a deal with you."

"Really," He said, airing out his skepticism. "What do you want?"

She stepped closer, almost in a threatening display that had Hvitserk reaching for his knife. His concern wasn't unwarranted, as she was a shieldmaiden to Lagertha. Astrid eased her intensity while placing her hands up to signify no harm. "I want you to smuggle me back to Kattegat."

Both Ivar and Hvitserk shared a laugh, but she did not falter. She must be more miserable with Harald than Ivar had gleaned, but that wasn't his concern. "Why would we do that? There's great risk involved for us. Harald is obviously quite taken with you, and we'd be making an enemy of him because you have reservations about sharing his bed."

"I have information for you, regarding that woman by your side, the thrall."

Ivar's back straightened and he looked to Hvitserk with curiosity. This was the answer they had been searching for. "What do you know of Freydis?"

Astrid smirked. "She's a spy, but I'm sure you've already gathered that. I won't say anything more out here. Harald still doesn't trust me enough to not have me followed, and I won't give up what I know without a guarantee that you'll give me what I want."

"When then?" Hvitserk asked and he sounded as impatient as Ivar felt.

"Tonight, after Harald passes out from too much meat and drink. Make sure that thrall of yours is kept occupied as well. I shouldn't have to tell you not to trust a spy, but you're men, and I've seen the way you look at her," Astrid remarked while giving Ivar a pointed look. "Don't let me down sons of Ragnar. Your father lost many things towards his end, but never his integrity. I suspect the gods instilled the same in you."

Astrid departed and a group of guards followed after at a distance. It appeared she was correct about her limited freedom, and after saying much, Ivar wondered what else she was right about. She had given them much to think on at any rate, and he tried not to feel slighted at the comment about his apparent weakness for Freydis' beauty.

"Can we trust her?" Hvitserk asked at his side. They both took a seat on the ledge of the longship that had carried them in earlier that same day.

"She's desperate to return to Lagertha, and she knew Freydis was a spy without us feeding her that information. We'll have to hear her out first, but I suspect she's being honest about this."

"But not about her intentions once she's back in Kattegat," said Hvitserk. "Harald is being played by us and his Queen. Guess he isn't about to be King of all Norway any time soon."

"Thank the gods for that. I want to be in faraway lands when that happens," Ivar said with a smirk as his brother broke into a laugh.

"Then I'm coming with you. You'd be lost without me."

"I would," Ivar admitted, and it had a sobering effect on Hvitserk, who grew quiet beside him.

Truly, he didn't know where his fate would take him, but he knew it would be better if his brother was at his side. And you as well. Ivar closed his eyes and recalled your face, your laugh, and your kiss. You would be a free woman by now, and he hoped you wouldn't be too cross with him about that little stunt next time you met. He wanted to see you this very moment, but the distance made that impossible. For now, he would have to rely on his memories and hope that Niorun would bless him with dreams of you.

ooOOoo

You were alone again. This was nothing new since arriving in Kattegat. You wish you could say you knew more about the city, but all you had seen was the four walls of Audhild's cabin. She had left to take another trip into the market, and you had come close to begging her to take you with her. It seemed she and Ubbe were of the same mindset when it came to keeping you out of trouble, and you had no doubt it was Ivar's doing. Even an ocean away he was still in charge of your life and it was as endearing as it was infuriating.

The first thing Audhild had done for you was provide you with new clothes. The loose-fitted secondhand frocks no longer befitted your station as a free woman. You were given wool leggings and tunics, along with a belt that cinched around your waist. Ladies didn't wear trousers back in England, and it was taking getting used to. You often found yourself tugging and adjusting at the fabric, all while Audhild would shoot you queer looks.

As thanks for her setting you up with new garments, you would cook the meals for you both. It was a favor to both of you really, because, after the first night of eating her dry bread and burnt fish, you didn't think your stomach could handle the pain. You had even managed to learn how to properly butcher a rabbit, something you had never eaten back home.

Ubbe would pop around from time to time to see you, as well as keeping you both informed about the ongoing situation with Lagertha. For now the ruling Queen was content to let Ubbe stay among the people, though according to him she never passed up a chance to bring up questions about Ivar. That let him know her guard was still up, and she did not yet trust the elder son of Ragnar.

While you were glad for the updates, you couldn't shake the wavering disappointment about your newfound freedom. All of your knowledge about the people of Kattegat came from the words of Ubbe or your host, and you hadn't even met Ubbe's wife yet. So far being a free woman didn't feel any different than enslavement, and the growing loneliness was what pressed you to venture out on your own from the cabin.

You waited enough time to be sure Audhild hadn't turned back on her way into town before throwing on a pair of fur-lined boots and overcoat. You had no plan on where you were going, only that you wanted to see something of this new land that wasn't the inside of Audhild's cabin. England was all flat plains and rolling green hills, but Norway was jagged mountains and dark forests with cold rushing rivers. It had never crossed your mind that you would be interested in seeing new lands, probably because as a nun your only travels would have been to other cities and villages across England tending to the sick and spreading the word of God.

You headed out with Ivar's knife tucked into your belt and began to take the path eastward. You knew west would take you the way towards Kattegat, that was where Audhild had gone. As tempted as you were to see the market, you knew it could land you into trouble to meet more of the Northmen while alone for the first time. Your only mission today was to better acquaint yourself with the land.

The breeze felt wonderful on your face, and you had forgotten the taste of breathing fresh air. It was earthy and damp here, not like the iron and smoke of York. The bit of frost that was on the ground crunched beneath your boots. Winter came earlier this far north. You could see it in the grey of the sky that spelled snow. You hoped Ivar and Hvitserk would return before the waters froze over and that they would be bringing peace with them. Absurd! Letting out a breathy laugh, you remembered fondly that Ivar wasn't a peaceful being.

You missed him. At night after Audhild was snoring across the cabin, you would lie awake and stare at the ceiling, thinking of him. You didn’t understand what it meant, but your heart raced and your body grew restless at the mere thought of him. There was so much more that needed to be shared, and you were trying to compile everything in your mind so you would be ready for his return. You wouldn't call it love, not yet, but you knew you held affection for him and that put you at odds with your vows and God. In the eyes of the church, you were still a nun, though you hadn't thought of yourself as such for a while now. You still loved God, but you no longer wanted to be his bride.

"Oh!" You gasped in surprise when you realized you were somewhere new.

Your trekking had broken you out from the forest and out to a bank of the river. You could constantly hear it flowing back from the cabin, and you were excited about finding it. The water was crystal blue, and the surface current was slow and free over the rocks. A small house with a thatched roof sat by the shore, and there was a fire burning low in a pit outside. Someone was still nearby.

You started down the path towards the house while pondering who could want to live this far out from the town. You had thought Audhild was the furthest away. Hermits were common among the Saxons, so it wasn't unreasonable to assume the Northmen had their fair share. Not that you were judging them, in fact, it was for that reason that gave you the confidence to approach.

"Hello?' You called out as you rounded the fire. It was still warm, and you did the stranger a kindness by throwing a nearby log onto the pit. The flames immediately fed on the new fuel, spreading high into the air and sending a warmth through you that was welcome after your walk. You took another look around before kneeling down in the gravel to huddle closer to the fire. It seemed that no one was around for the moment, and that granted you the luxury of peace. Everything was so unfamiliar, every branch and rock different than what you had seen in England. You thought you would have missed home, or at least held a longing for it, but no. You couldn’t even summon a fondness for it now. What you missed wasn’t a place, but a person.

You became lost in the beauty of your surroundings that you didn't notice the stranger appearing from behind the home. He moved with impossibly quiet steps, and you weren't alerted to his presence until he was looming over you, blocking the light of the fire. You let out a yelp as you fell onto your backside in the gravel. The large man narrowed his eyes at you as you scrambled to your feet. If Ivar could see you now. He would be furious you had let your guard down enough to be snuck upon. Stay alive he'd said.

"Who are you?" The man asked, and his voice was softer than you expected.

"I'm Ólaug," You said, fighting the tremble in your voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were here."

His head tilted to the side, watching you with a keen stare that you had only felt from Ivar. "What do you want? Did Lagertha send you?"

"No, I don't know Lagertha."

"You don't know the Queen of Kattegat, shieldmaiden and first wife of Ragnar Lothbrok." You didn't answer and he let out an insouciant giggle. "You're a Christian."

The way he said it made it sound awful, and you hated the way it made you feel. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes. It's your hair and the way you speak." The stranger started to sit down by the fire, a string of fish hanging over his shoulder. He dropped his catch at his side and pulled a knife from his belt, getting to work on cutting filets. "Sit down, betrothed woman," He pressed while pointing with his blade to the spot across from him.

"Excuse me?"

"What, are you deaf?"

You took a seat once more, but not because he had asked it of you. “Why did you call me that just now? Betrothed woman…”

“Your name, that’s what it means.” He continued to fling fish heads and bones into a pile, never giving you the courtesy of his attention.

Ivar had given you the name, and it suddenly clued in that it was made in jest. Bride of Christ was what he had first called you, and now 'betrothed woman'. You smiled to yourself, not entirely at odds with the moniker.

“How did you come here, Christian? You don’t look like a thrall.”

“I’m not,” You replied quickly, and you found that he had stopped his task of cleaning his fish to observe you. You did the same in return. He was older and battle-worn judging by his stiff movements when he had sat down. His light hair was wispy and tied back in one long braid, and his rangy frame was draped in a brown fur pelt. You thought his eyes were sad. “What’s your name?”

“Floki.”

You were sure Ivar had mentioned him in passing, but you couldn’t recall when. “Alright, Floki. I was a thrall, but I was freed recently. I came from York with Ubbe Ragnarsson.”

"Ubbe has returned? Then he has abandoned Ivar."

You didn't know what Floki's connection was to Lagertha, so you didn't correct him on his assumption about the brothers being apart. "You are close with the sons of Ragnar?"

"Of course. They are the offspring of the greatest man I've ever known and my brother. They are kin," He said and his face was alive with passion. "And you must be connected to them. Was it Ivar who also freed you after giving you that knife?"

You looked down at the weapon on your belt, feeling flustered. "How do you know about the knife?"

"I taught that crippled brat everything he knows. I recognize his skill and craft in that blade," said Floki shaking his head. "That boy, so much like his father."

"Don't call him a cripple."

Floki's eyes shot to you and there was that giggle again. "Oh, and you're defensive of him as well. Are you his betrothed woman?"

The fire you sat beside could never warm you as much of those words just then. You knew you were red up to your ears, but you tried to deny whatever he was implying regardless "I'm not his anything."

"Then why did he set you free?"

You hadn't even admitted to him that Ivar had done so, but he had already decided that was the truth. He was still as a tree, the fish forgotten in the long line of your conversation. You felt unnerved by him as if everything about you was exposed to him like a gaping wound, and you had never been so relieved to be interrupted when a voice called out from above the path.

"Floki!"

It was Ubbe, looking out of breath and panic-stricken as he dashed down towards you. A blonde woman was trailing behind him, appearing displeased to be dragged this far out into the bush. She must be the wife.

You and Floki both stood as Ubbe came to the fire. He turned to you first, and you anticipated a lecture. "Why did you leave Audhild's cabin? I'm supposed to keep you safe. You can't wander off when you don't know the land or its people well enough."

"I would if you let me," You retorted while feeling humiliation for being scolded in front of Floki.

"Don't fret Ólaug," Floki interjected while planting a firm hand on Ubbe's shoulder. "He's only concerned to find you here because he thinks I'll kill you like I did Athelstan."

Ragnar's monk. Your eyes widened with surprise and fear, all while the two men shared a grin and embraced.

"Thought you'd gone on to lands unknown," Ubbe said to Floki as they parted.

"The Gods brought me home. They have something for me to do here yet," He said while looking back at you. "She is Ivar's woman?"

Ubbe turned to you with a grin and you looked down, not liking the attention. "You'll have to ask him. He's in Vestfold with Harald."

"Planning on Lagertha's demise then."

"Is that a problem for you?" Ubbe asked, becoming serious.

"Lagertha has been my friend for a long time, but your mother was also. She had such a connection to the gods." Floki's head pulled up to the sky as if a string was attached tugging forth to some greater presence. "Neither of them should have ever suffered over Ragnar. A great King and a true Viking, but a poor husband. Something I hear Bjorn has inherited."

You noticed Ubbe's face flush, and he brushed his hand down his neck. "Well, I know Ivar is set on revenge, and I don't know if there's anything that can change his mind."

By then Ubbe's wife had caught up to their circle, and you got the impression she wasn't pleased to be left behind. She was dressed in a thick red robe with fur trim, and her long hair was twisted onto her head like a crown. You wondered if all the women of Kattegat were blonde and beautiful, and you ran your fingers through your short hair. Ivar had said it was ugly when you first met. Vanity had suddenly become a trouble for you and you didn't like it.

Ubbe must have noticed you staring at his woman, and he quickly brought an arm around her to introduce her into the group. "Ólaug, this is my wife, Margrethe."

"Hello," You greeted, and as you waited for her reply, she took one long surveying look at you that ended with her nose wrinkled and her mouth puckered.

"Hello," She said shortly.

You wouldn't be making a friend out of her anytime soon, and you weren't bothered by that. She was as unpleasant as she was gorgeous, and Ubbe sent you an apologetic shrug for her frosty demeanor.

"I need to get you back to Audhild's before she wonders where you are," Ubbe explained and you nodded.

You were ready to conclude your first adventure, but you decided that you would want to speak to Floki again. He seemed to know a great deal about the sons of Ragnar and everything else that went on in Kattegat, and you wanted to poke his brain for more information that could help you grow as a free woman. You turned to the older Viking and squared your shoulders.

"Can I come back to see you?"

Floki laughed at a dazed Ubbe. "See, she's curious. I expected that from any woman of Ivar's."

At the mention of him, Margrethe recoiled further into Ubbe's side and sent you a scathing glare. You stared back at her with vacant eyes until she became uncomfortable and craned her neck towards the woods. Her escape.

"Betrothed woman," Floki interrupted, taking your hands in his massive ones. "You are a Christian, and I hold no love for your God or people. I've killed hundreds of your kind, and one who held the love of my King. But you have sailed on our ships and left your lands, and came out free on the other side. Our gods favor you as much as my dear Ivar, and I will speak to you again."

"Thank you," You whispered.

He smiled back for a moment, and you thought the perpetual melancholy that surrounded him had lifted in a brief respite. It returned as he dropped your hands, and he started to flick his wrist back and forth in a waving motion. "Now leave me alone. All of you."

Ubbe tugged on your coat sleeve to get you moving, and when you turned to join him, you spotted Margrethe up ahead.

"Sorry, she's not always like that," He insisted as he noticed your look.

No Ubbe, you thought, she most certainly was always that way, but he was too besotted with her looks to realize. Whatever was going on in his marriage wasn't your business, and you kept quiet by his side as he led you back to Audhild's cabin. You were impressed that you could have remembered the way if Ubbe hadn't been at your side. Something about the nonlinear path had felt familiar, and you were already looking forward to walking it again.

Your last thoughts before you slept were of Ivar, an ocean between you and with so much more to say. You wanted to tell him about Floki and talk with him about his mother. You wanted to be back at his side. He was such a large part of where your life had turned, and now that he had left you alone in this strange place you felt brittle and forgotten.

You refused to be overlooked as another Christian brought into their midst or condemned for being Ivar's woman when you weren't even sure if that was your place. Whatever your feelings for him were, they meant nothing if you couldn't secure your own station among the Northmen. That night you vowed to God, their gods, and yourself that you would become strong of heart and embrace your new life alongside the heathens. All life came with sacrifice and war, and whatever nightmares you would be forced to face, you would conquer them.

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[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - x (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The truth finally comes out.

Warnings: brief mention of sex, mentions of death, really shitty writing tbh, dialogue driven. (NOTE: when concerning the flashbacks, he’s actually explaining to the reader what happened)

Word Count: 2.5k

Note: Feel free to send me any questions because I know this is a really crappy chapter. (of course, I’m not going to reveal the rest of the plot)

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

You could still taste the salt from the sea on your lips. The memories of what happened aboard that ship still fresh like a wound that you’d carry forever. You stared at your hands that were conjoined with your husband’s. The wedding bands glistened in the dimmed room.

“Will you believe me if I told you everything?” Steven asked. His thumb drew soothing circles on the back of your hand. His grip tight as if he were afraid you’d disappear again.

“Everyone’s lied to me.” You whispered. You looked towards Wanda’s body, still covered with the bloodstained tarp. “What would make you any different?”

“This is the truth,” he promised. “The complete truth.”

When Steven was young, his mother doted on him because he was a sickly child. He grew up to have her compassion, optimism, and idealism. He was sixteen when his father unexpectedly died, and he was hailed King of Brooken. He wanted to carry his mother’s ideals into a new age for Brooken, but he underestimated what it meant to have a crown on his head.

The sacrifices he’d have to make, the betrayals he’d have to face, the blood he’d have to spill. He’s told more lies that he could count – all in the name of protecting his reputation and his power. A cruel king is respected after all. The lies were like storm clouds that poured hard. He drowned in them and got lost in the darkness those clouds brought. The lies burdened him more than anyone would ever know.

You squeezed hand, breaking him away from his thoughts. “Steve?” Your tone was soft, coaxing him back into reality. He welcomed the calm you brought. It eased the storm inside of him. You were ready for the truth – perhaps, you’ve always been ready. “Unburden yourself, my love.”

“I don’t know where to start.” He said, honestly. It was true. There was so much to the story. He wasn’t quite sure where it began.

“Start with Margaret, perhaps?” You suggested.

“I was young,” he began. “Twenty-one years old. Five years on the throne. They told me I needed a wife.”

“They?”

“Pierce and the old council.” He answered. “Brock’s father had just died, so he took the vacant seat. At first, I thought having my cousin on the council would alleviate the tension. The lords on the council were nearly twice my age, if not more. They saw things differently than I did. They wanted different things. Sometimes I felt as if I were their puppet. I was young when I took the throne. Sixteen. I didn’t know what to expect, so I leaned on their counsel. I depended on them,” he scoffed, remembering his earlier years on the throne. “They told me I needed to continue the line succession. Thanos was beginning to make a name for himself by this time. He had lovers and spawned two daughters. His line was growing, and the Rogers’s wasn’t. So, I asked them to find me a match. Pierce brought in Lady Margaret of House Carter. I was smitten when I first laid eyes on her.”

Steven sat tall upon his throne. The room was empty. Brooken had a tradition that detailed that those in royal betrothals must meet for the first time in private. He was giddy with excitement. Lady Margaret’s portraits were presented to him a month ago. She was easily one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen. Lord Pierce made the arrangements and they were to marry within a week. “House Carter is a respected house in the Old World,” Pierce advertised.

The doors opened wide and a young woman walked through. Her hair was dark as night. Her lips painted a bright red. She smiled at him and bowed. “Your grace,” she greeted. “I am humbled to make your acquaintance and, of course, honored to be your betrothed.”

“I didn’t know her, truly. I didn’t realize how manipulative she was from the beginning. She charmed and enchanted me to do her bidding. We were married for nearly a decade. No children. She didn’t want children. I didn’t want to lose her, so I agreed.

“She had many faces. A face she’d show the people that made them love her. A face she showed me that hypnotized me. And the face she’d show my allies, which were her foes. She fought with James incessantly – even tried to make me banish him. I refused. He was my oldest friend. I promised the moment I took the throne, my riches, my blessings were his to share. She was trying to isolate me. She banished my allies from court. James warned me she was a devil. I refused to listen. I thought her a gift from the gods themselves. Until I caught her poisoning my mother.”

“What?” You gasped.

Steven nodded. The haunting memory pained him still.

He woke up alone after a long night of making love to his queen. It was early in the morning; the sun had barely risen. Orange streaks painted the sky. He searched for Margaret, wanting to jest her for allowing him to wake up alone. He found her whispering to his sick, elderly mother who was bedridden due to a broke hip.

“You won’t get away with it. My son will find out,” his mother croaked.

“Not from you,” Margaret gave her a wicked smile as she slathered arsenic-riddled paint on his mother’s toast. The thick substance looked like jam, but Steve knew better. She force-fed the queen mother the poisoned bread.

“What are you doing!” Steve boomed into the room, pushing his wife aside as his mother choked. “Guards! Get a physician!”

“She died later that evening.” Steven shook his head. It was your turn to console him. You released one of your hands from his grip and rubbed his arm. He took a shaky breath. “I stabbed Margaret in the heart in front of Rumlow, Pierce, James, and Sam’s father. I didn’t know, yet, that her betrayals were much deeper than the murdering my mother.”

“Enter Sharon?” You asked.

“I was widowed for a year. Pierce brought her in. The younger cousin of Margaret.” He continued. “Married two days after her arrival in Brooken.” He chuckled humorlessly at his naivete. “I should’ve never marry a stranger.”

“We married in two weeks.” You noted. “We were practically strangers, too.”

Steven shook his head in disagreement. He didn’t feel that way. In the two weeks he grew to know you, he learned the innerworkings of your mind, your soul. He knew he was in love with you, truly, even before he wrapped the cloak around your shoulders during the wedding ceremony.

“We weren’t strangers.” He said. “Far from it. Sharon was distant. Defiant. We never consummated our marriage, not that anyone would know. She refused to sleep in my chambers, refused to be held, or anything, really. It felt as if I had married a ghost that everyone could see. I couldn’t touch her, but she still haunted these halls.”

“You beheaded her.” You said. Steven bit his lip as he nodded. “Pierce said you beheaded her out of spite.”

Steven cocked his head to the side, brows raising, as if he entertained the idea. “Well, she was spiteful.”

“The men in the prisons… They preferred her over you and you imprisoned them, correct?”

Steven sighed. He was disappointed that you were so quick to believe rumors and lies about him, but he blamed himself for not being completely honest from the start. “Sharon plotted a coup on behalf of the Mad King.”

“How can you be certain?” You asked.

“She admitted it when she was caught.”

Steven stared down at the blonde. Her eyes wide as he finished reading her encrypted letter. “You’re not subtle. You’re not discreet.” He spat at her, crumpling the paper and throwing it at her feet. “You work for the Mad King. You’re here to topple me. Rip the crown from my head and give it to him. The game’s over, Sharon. You’ve lost. Your followers all caught and imprisoned. I will get a confession and you will die for treason.”

She recomposed herself, rolling back her shoulders with confidence. “You think you can just kill off another queen? What will people think of you, Steven.”

“I am pulling the weeds from my kingdom.” He snapped. “You Carters are all the same. Traitors. Liars.”

“Margaret was good.” Sharon complimented. “She had you wrapped around her finger for a decade. If she hadn’t been caught killing your mother, then she would’ve convinced you to ally yourself with Thanos.” She turned her head to the side and gave him a smirk. “Then, she would’ve killed you along with your mother. Such a shame, she was caught.”

“You admit. You’re a traitor.”

“Of course, I admit it. But mind you, your grace, your enemies are all over Brooken. You cut me down today, someone else will cut you down tomorrow.”

“I beheaded her for treason.”

“You didn’t tell people that your queens were committed treason. You allowed rumors to spread about your cruelty to your wives.” You frowned.

“As I told you before, a cruel king is respected.” Steven muttered. “But I never wanted you to be afraid of me.”

“Isn’t it odd?” You asked. “Both queens chosen by Pierce were traitors.”

Steven nodded. “They pushed me to get married once more, but I told them, this time I’ll choose my bride.”

“Me.”

“It’s three years after the War between the North. Tony and I were close before. I fought alongside your father when York was invaded ages ago.”

“You fought over a disagreement over land.”

“More than land. He wanted James dead. James’s father killed your grandfather. Since James’s father had died long before, your father asked for my friend’s head. I refused. So, a war erupted.”

“You traded blows with my father on the battlefield.” You recalled. You remembered your mother’s cries and pleads with the gods, asking for them to protect your father’s life. “He returned to my mother bloodied. You cut through his armor. But you looked him in the eyes and called the war off.”

“No one won.”

“No one.” You agreed. “Three years later, you ask my father for a wife.”

“I needed a wife I could trust. Although we had our differences, I trust your father with my life. I know Tony’s blood. I know how you would’ve been raised to be loyal. You took after your father and your mother.” Steven explained. “I didn’t trust Pierce to find me a wife that could slit my throat in the night.”

“You trust me?” You asked.

“The moment I stared into your eyes and saw fear… I knew you knew the rumors. I knew you thought of me as cruel – our first encounter made that clear.” He smiled at you softly. His fingers lightly traced the scars of your wrist. He brought your wrist to his lips and pressed a light kiss onto the skin. “But, truthfully, my trust in you waned when I saw you with Brock and Pierce leaving the dungeon. I began to think you were conspiring with them.”

“I – I – I wasn’t.”

“I know that now.” He said. “I realized you were afraid of disappointing me because you didn’t … you weren’t –“

“Pregnant.” Your voice wavered, immediately brought back to the painful memory of losing your baby alone on the boat. “I should’ve told you I was, though. But I was afraid. I thought you were going to kill me. You struck me.”

“I’m terribly sorry.” Steven shook his head. No amount of apologizes could ever make up to the faded scar on your cheek.

“I was afraid for my life and the child’s. They manipulated me because of my fears. They prayed upon it and convinced me to trust them. And I did. In turn, I – I lost my best friend and my baby.”

Steve pulled you to him. Your head rested in the junction between his neck and shoulder as you cried softly into him. He rubbed your arm, comfortingly.

“They tried to turn you against me.” Steven whispered. “They tried to weaken me by trying to kill you on that boat. I thank the gods that you’re safe now.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.” You muttered.

Steven nodded and kissed the top of your head. His arm around you tightened a bit. “You should sleep. Get some rest. You need it after what you’ve endured.”

You agreed. Steven untangled himself from you before he leaned down to press a kiss to the scar on your cheek and a kiss on your lips. He began to walk away when you felt panic begin to settle. Your hand shot out and grabbed onto his arm, preventing him from taking another step.

“Please stay.” You begged. “I… I don’t want to be alone.”

He gave you a soft smile and nodded. You scooted over the cot to make room for your husband. The positioning was a bit awkward considering his massive build, but you immediately felt safer once his arms wrapped around you once again.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

You woke up alone in Steven’s bedchamber. The sun had already set, the full moon up in the sky. The pain had subsided after nearly a day of rest. The truth settling in inside your mind.

At least now you knew everything.

The doors opened suddenly to reveal your husband. He smiled at you as you sat up on the bed. “You’re awake.”

“You left me alone.”

Steven’s smile faltered. He couldn’t register if there was sadness in your voice or not as he walked over. “I – I hadn’t meant to upset you.”

You shook your head. “I understand. You’re a king. Your duty is to the people, not to me.”

“I am your husband, first.” Steve argued. “My duty will always be to you, my love.” He took your hand in his and helped you off the bed. “Come. There’s something I must show you.”

He led you to the balcony doors, opening it and allowing the air rush into the room. You breathed it in. The mixed scents from the gardens below overtook your senses, washing out the pained sea salt smell that still haunted you.

Steven guided you out onto the terrace and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in front of him. You gasped as you looked up to the sky. Along with the bright moon and the stars were lanterns that floated into the air and painted the dark sky.

“For years, I stumbled alone in the darkness. Feigned love with false queens who sought to destroy me. And here you are. The true gift the gods bestowed upon me. I truly believe you were crafted to be my soulmate, (Y/N).” He murmured in your ear. “I wish I could take away the pain you’ve endured, but I cannot. I can only tell you whatever comes next, we will face it together as husband and wife.” Tears swelled in your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks as you stared up into the bright sky. “I love you, my light, my love.”

You smiled and turned to him, cupping his bearded cheeks in your hands. “I love you, Steve.”

[the-piece-of-spadille]

May I ask for 30(croc), 34(reader) and 84(croc) from the follower milestone prompt list with sir crocodile pretty please. Maybe some angst that ends in fluff? Thank you luv and congratulations on the milestone you earned it! Have a great day!

Hey luv! I was hoping someone would request crocodile and when I saw your name I got super excited. I have such a weakness for him. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, love reading Star in the Sand btw.

Life after crocodile had been extremely hard to say the least. The once beautiful, lavish lifestyle you shared together came crumbling down than faster than you could have ever imagined. It was a living nightmare, to have him, the man you gave your whole heart to, the man who promised to never hurt you, toss you out of his life like you never meant anything at all. He was a cold-hearted man for what he did, but the way he couldn’t look you in your eyes while he told you never left your mind.

Sometimes you wished he’d gave you the same treatment he’d give his subordinates when he was through with them. That way you didn’t have to deal with the crumbling world around you. The only thing you were thankful for was that Crocodile always kept you out of the public eye. Funny how it’s what allowed you to leave Alabasta without too much trouble. You couldn’t imagine the what life would have been like if his enemies knew about your existence.  

Still life had been difficult, trying to find a new place to start over, to get further away from him. There was nothing left you could sell or trade with that wasn’t the clothes on your back. There was no money to buy necessities, so you stole and snuck your way onto ships when people began to figure out what happened. Still, no matter how bad things got, you could never bring yourself to sell or throw away his ring.

It was much too big to fit on your dainty fingers, so you kept it on a chain around your neck, tucked into your shirt so prying eyes could never see. It still hangs close to your heart. It brought you comfort when you needed it most. When you were hidden away on ships and thought you were seconds away from getting caught, you clutched the ring to your chest, or when you couldn’t sleep at night you’d find yourself absentmindedly playing with it, like you often did with his hand.

Nevertheless, you managed to find an island you could lay low at for a while. Finding a job wasn’t easy but you were desperate for work and got a job waitressing at some crappy bar. Just when things started to look up, a customer left a newspaper on the table you were cleaning. It was an old paper, from over a month ago.

It reported that the former warlord had escaped imprisonment from Impel Down. That he was dangerous and to take precautions and to report his location immediately to the authorities if spotted. This discovery left you feeling conflicted. At first you were angry, angry that he had escaped prison and is now free. Then you continued to read and learn about the war. There was a picture, it showed Crocodile. He had a few injuries, though they were minor, you couldn’t help the pang in brought. After everything you still felt something for him. That angry feeling starts to return again.

Throwing away the paper, you busy yourself cleaning tables and serving drinks when the door opens. Immediately the feeling of panic floods your system. Somehow you know exactly who’s at the door. Refusing to turn around as if not looking at him will somehow make him disappear, but it’s pointless when he sits a table and waits. You try ignoring him, but your boss pulls you aside by your arm and gives you a threat about firing you if you don’t take that table.

Biting your tongue, you walk over to Crocodile with what little courage you have. “What can I get you Sir” you ask in your best uninterested voice. Looking anywhere but his eyes, you notice the different bandages littered over him. “A few minutes of your time.”

“Not happening.” Tapping your foot impatiently, “You can order something or leave. I know your taste in liquor, you won’t find anything you like here, so I recommend leaving.” Turning around, you begin to walk away when he calls your name.

“Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” That tone of voice was something you’d never heard from him before. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him. Crocodile was exhausted. He was covered in dirt and grime, and the coat he adored so much was ripped in places, but most of all the look in his eyes told you everything.  

“No, no you don’t get to do this-.” He stands, still towering over anyone in the room. Immediately everyone looks over, waiting to see how this plays out. Crocodile pays them no mind.

“What I built was crumbling down around us. I did whatever I had to, to make sure you got out. To protect you.” A single tear starts to make its way down your check before you could wipe it away. Perhaps this wasn’t the best place to hash out feelings. Crocodile timidly reached out with his hand and when he felt no resistance, guided you out of the bar.

He walked you down to a space away from any bystanders and gave you time to collect yourself. “I wanted you to be able to move on, find someone better and start over. Someone that could give you everything you deserve.”

A laugh was the only response he received. The darkness casted a shadow over his features making it hard to read his expression. “Did you”  he clears his throat, “find someone.”

“Do I look like I’ve moved on.” Motioning to your surroundings. Kicking a pebble down the street. You pull out the necklace from the inside of your shirt. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to” your voice wavering. Crocodile reaches his hand out to wipe away your tears. “I trusted you. I gave you everything I had.”

Bringing you into his chest, he strokes your hair as you let out your emotions. Clutching onto his coat. ”I know you did. I’m sorry I hurt you, but please.” He swallows. “Know that my intentions were to truly protect you. There’s no way of knowing what the government would have done to you.” Leaning down, he places a kiss to your hair.

“I know it’s a long road ahead of us before you’ll trust me… If you’ll ever trust me again.” Holding you tighter against him, “I never stopped loving you.”

[jamieatthebarricade]

Maids to Wives / Chapter 5

In 1619, one hundred and forty-four English women from good families crossed the Atlantic in response to the Virginia Company of London’s call for maids “young and corrupt” to make wives for the planters of it’s new colony in Virginia. One in six of the maids could even claim gentry status. Although promised a free choice of husband, they were in effect being traded into marriage for a bride price of 150 pounds of best leaf tobacco, the profits to flow to individual investors

In 1619, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp made the voyage to do one thing: marry a man she’s never met. But when she arrives, she comes to the startling realization that her heart belongs to someone else, a certain James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser.

Chapter 5/? : A Known Stranger

Previous Chapters : 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Find Maids to Wives on Archive of Our Own!

May 22nd, 1619, Claire’s POV

“Dear diary, 

As time passes by here, I find myself enjoying life here more and more. I’ve been less than a week, and since arriving I’ve made a goal for myself to discover something new everyday. Whether it’s a new tree I didn’t notice before or a currant in the river. Yesterday I discovered a field of wildflowers a little aways of me and Frank’s house. I hope to go back there one of these days, maybe take Frank there and have lunch.

Frank and I haven’t had too much time to converse with each other, aside from small pillow talk at night. I ask about his day and he asks about mine. Usually he’s away during the day, in town with peers or overseeing the farms. I suppose I had an unrealistic romantic idea of marriage, that we’d be with each other more.

That’s not to say I mind. Being able to think by myself is a privilege I’m happy to keep. This whole experience has been incredibly overwhelming, so not feeling smothered by my husband is somewhat of a plus, although I’m smothered by a different thought.

The man at the docks. His red hair. His tall statue that stood over everyone else. Since last seeing him I couldn’t stop thinking of him, and guiltily I don’t think I mind. The feelings I have for him aren’t like anything I experienced before. It’s the type of attraction you read about, but never live through. He was this erotic thought in the back of my mind I could pull out whenever I wanted to escape. He was the forbidden fruit, and I wanted nothing more than a taste.

I need to stop myself. As pleasant as those thoughts were, I had a husband. A good husband who was kind and gentle, and who provided graciously for me. I had a roof over my head, and all the free time to frolic and read. I’d been doing better than many of the other women, from what I had observed. Mary was the only other one who seemed happy to be married.

I am seeing Geillis tomorrow, so I’ll ask her then. Although, I can guess her answer. From what she told me of her dream man, her current husband didn’t fit the description. He was old, bald, and fat. From what I observed from far away, she always pulled back when he kissed her. It made me fortunate to have Frank.

I suppose I should stop for tonight. Frank will be home soon, and still have our bed to make. Thank you for letting me release my thoughts.

Love, Claire”

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May 23nd, 1619, Claire’s POV

“What are your plans for the day?” For the first time in weeks, Me and Frank were able to sit down together for breakfast. I had opted to prepare a simple meal of bread and milk, as I still had yet to learn to integrate recipes for my husband. I made a mental note to myself to start that.

“I’m visiting Geillis, my friend from the ship” Frank just smiled and sipped his milk, gazing between me and his food. I found his look charming, and I was happy to receive it. He looked at me with a nurture that was warm and inviting, that said ‘I’ll protect you,’

As he looked at me, I took the opportunity to look at him. Everytime we interacted, it seemed like I was noticing more about his features. His face was quite square, and he had these lines along his cheeks that trailed from the bottom of his jaw, and which became more defined when he smiled (thankfully, he did that a lot). He was balding slightly, but I suspected he’d be one of those men who balded nicely. He had a nice face, and I smiled to myself as I looked at him.

Suddenly the door opened, and Frank’s lesser twin came in. I hadn’t seen Jonathan for a while, as he usually kept to himself for the most part. Sometimes I saw him when I went out for a walk, but I always tried to avoid him. There was something about him that caused me to move away from his presence. It was strange, even though him and Frank looked the same, I knew deep down they weren’t the same person at all.

Frank was annoyed at his brother’s outwardly intrusion, and made no effort to hide it. “What can I do for you?” although the question wasn’t ill-spirited, the annoyed tone of his voice gave away his true feelings.

“There’s a shipment down at the docks. We need to help unload,” Jonathan returned with the same annoyed energy, and I saw the sibling tension between them. Growing up an only child, I’d always wanted a sibling of my own. Living with Jonathan and Frank rid myself of that dream.

Frank turned to me, giving a small smile. “I’m sorry our breakfast had to be cut short, we should try doing this more,” He smiled, and leaned in for a kiss. I happily returned it, and we shared a short peck before he was out the door. I hadn’t even noticed Jonathan was still in the room before I heard his voice,

“Goodbye Claire,” He said. I hated his voice so much, because it sounded so much like Frank. If any part of them shared likeness, it was their voices. Though, Jonathan’s always sounded like it was laced with something. Villainy? That’s what I suspected. 

I gave him a short nod, and thankfully he was out the door. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was keeping in, and looked around the small room. Me and Frank’s half eaten breakfast, a small table with 3 chairs, and a hearth. It was quaint, but it was home.

‘I should meet Geillis,’ I told myself, taking off my apron and looking at myself in the window. My hair was pulled up, and I was hesitant to change it as my hair tended to be untamed down. It wasn’t like I was meeting the queen or anything, I kept it the way it was.

The walk to town was longer than I was expecting. I’d only ever ridden on horseback, but figured today was a good day to take a scenic route. It was sunny, and quite warm. Some of the wildflowers I passed were blooming, and birds filled the sky and sound with their presence. Everything was peaceful until it wasn’t.

It was like a dark cloud came over everything, and the perfect day turned to something worse. Behind me, I heard the rustling of bushes, and slowly the movement of feet. I didn’t even notice my own starting to pick up the pace. A part of me wanted to keep walking. I’d be to town eventually, it wasn’t too far away. I heard the footsteps getting closer and my other thought was to turn around and fight whoever this demon was.

I chose that option, turning around and screaming, at the same time punching whoever was my chaser one. The person fell to the group, clutching his nose in his hand. It was an old man, with a bushy beard and a smell of alcohol that filled my senses quite quickly. I didn’t recognize him, and surely thought that whoever it was meant to hurt me.

Before I had time to breath, I heard another pair of footsteps being him. ‘This can’t be happening’ was I being set upon by highwaymen? Were these a band of bandits intending on stealing or hurting me? I quickly ran the opposite direction to my house, but whoever was chasing me was faster. At some point I would need to fight and that time would be now. 

I turned, and punched at whoever it was quickly. He doubled over, but didn’t fall like the other. When I looked at who it was, my breath caught in my throat. The man had bright ginger hair, and I’d only ever seen that color on one other person.

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A/N Thank you all for reading!! I’ve been in a writing mood lately so hopefully expect some new stuff out! Have a great day yall :)

[lilhawkeye3]

Find Your Way Back Home- Ch 3

Riyo Chuchi x Commander Wolffe, Riyo Chuchi x Commander Fox

Rating: T |||| Word Count: 1.9k |||| Set Post Order 66 |||| AO3 Link

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Riyo gripped the kitchen countertop tighter than anything in her whole life. The loud pounding of her heartbeat in her ears threatened to drown out the pounding of her heart as she sought a tether point in her whirlwind of emotions.

She couldn’t do this.

How could she do this? The ghosts she’d left on Coruscant were now seeking shelter in her bedroom.

She’d looked at Wolffe laid out on her bed, and some sick part of her expected him to be Fox. She used to bandage her lover’s wounds on their bed in her old apartment. What had she done to deserve this cosmic taunt?

“Riyo?”

Riyo’s hands flew to her mouth to hold in her startled shriek at Ahsoka’s appearance just to her left. Her friend’s lips twisted into an apologetic smile, and she patiently waited for Riyo to come down from her sudden rush of adrenaline. Her rusty hand cupped Riyo’s elbow to help ground her.

“I’m so sorry,” Riyo murmured, blinking rapidly to hide her brimming tears before she met Ahsoka’s gaze.

The Togruta’s eyes were sad as she searched for the right words, despite them both knowing nothing would ease Riyo’s pain. “You see him.”

Riyo tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a gasp for air after so long underwater. “How can I not?” Her tears stubbornly refused to fall now, despite clamoring at the floodgates only moments ago. “I can’t… I can’t focus on this right now.”

“You can’t go back in there right now either,” Ahsoka calmly pointed out. “Wolffe needs to heal.”

And so grew her guilt. “I know.” She needed to do something to keep her hands and mind busy. “I’ll get some more juvan ready so I can make a cold pack and show Rex what to do. You’ll both need to know how for when you go back.” She tried to ignore the predatory way Ahsoka’s eyes followed her around the kitchen as she gathered supplies.

“I find that talking helps sometimes,” Ahsoka quietly suggested, once Riyo stood back at the sink with her items gathered around.

“I’m not sure I remember how to do that after so long on my own,” Riyo muttered, grabbing a bundle of leaves from a jar more harshly than they deserved.

“No time better than the present.”

Riyo paused to stare calculatingly at her friend. She wasn’t lying about not knowing if she’d be able to speak of her nightmares after so long bottling it all in. “I propose a trade.”

One of Ahsoka’s painted brows rose in interest. “A trade.”

“I will tell you if you update me on your… situation.” She’d tiptoed around the circumstances of her guests’ arrival– and unlikely survival– for the past few days.

“Alright, deal.”

Riyo’s hands hovered uncertainly as she tries to steady her breathing before she begins. Where to even start? She’d tried so hard to forget that night six months ago. Now she had to relive it in full.

“I… I was home for the night.” Riyo doesn’t even recognize her voice with how vacant it sounds. “Everything was normal, even when I got a call from Co– Thire.” She didn’t want to relegate them to their titles. Those men– her friends– were worth much more than that. “He’d call sometimes if Fox was too busy to come home.”

Breathe in, one, two, three, breathe out.

“There’s– there was a code phrase Fox had me agree to. Dusk is falling soon. If one of us used it in a communication, we knew it was from the other.” Her hands began to shake as she ground the juvan up. “Thire said it to me that night. He said I had to flee Coruscant while I still could, before I was marked as a traitor by the Chancellor. That Fox needed to know I was safe, because… because he didn’t think he was coming home.”

“Oh, Riyo…”

Riyo tried to laugh but she choked on her voice. “No, no it’s fine. Please don’t feel sorry for me, not after–”

Not after what you’ve lost. It hangs in the air like a shadow, chilling the two women to the bone.

She could feel Ahsoka’s eyes on her for a long moment before she conceded. “Alright. So you fled Coruscant?”

Riyo nodded. “Yes. I waited for him, but… then I gathered those I could and had a trusted pilot shuttle us off. It wasn’t just those from my office, though. There were several other members from Pantora’s allies that we also safely evacuated. It was beneficial in the long run, since the number of hyperspace jumps we needed to make ensured that we weren’t followed.”

“That was wise of you,” Ahsoka confirmed. “You most likely had been tailed. The Empire has been interrogating anyone they view even as having a potential to be rebellious.”

Riyo dipped her head in a gentle nod. “And I never was one of the Cha– Emperor’s greedy followers,” she added.

Her friend’s lips quirked up in a humorless smile. “No, you weren’t.”

“Anyways, I timed my resignation to autosend sometime during our flight, and I contacted Bail, who gave us directions to follow. That’s all there really is to tell,” Riyo sheepishly shrugged, relieved to be finished and able to turn her attention back to the juvan leaves she’d laid out. They needed to be diced and then ground with water into a paste that could be either frozen and saved, or wrapped in a damp cloth and held to the wound.

“So, my turn then?” Ahsoka asked, faux-cheer evident in her voice but appreciated.

Riyo nodded, thankful for something else to focus on. She beckoned her over though, waiting until the Togruta was looking over her shoulder. “Just make sure to watch how I do it, so you’ll be able to on your own. The leaves have to be separated carefully, or you’ll negate the medicinal qualities.”

Ahsoka observed quietly as Riyo worked, nodding along to each specific task that Riyo pointed out. It was quite simple, but an untrained eye would still mess it up. It was nice to have someone at her side. She’d been so used to being alone.

“We agreed on a trade?” Ahsoka prompted, once Riyo stepped aside and handed the knife over for her to try. “Would you still like to hear what we’ve seen?”

Riyo bit the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself afloat in the surge of stress that threatens to sweep her away. “Yes, please.”

Ahsoka nodded sharply, and then the knife made its first clean slice. “We were on our way back from Mandalore after apprehending Darth Maul– the Sith Zabrak,” she elaborated for Riyo’s sake. “And an order went out to all the clone troopers, everywhere in the galaxy: execute Order 66, to kill the Jedi.” Her fingers clenched around the knife handle to the point that Riyo thought it’d snap. “Somehow Rex… he fought it long enough to warn me to find a file about Fives, an ARC trooper that–”

Riyo could feel the blood drain from her face at the mention of that name, one she’d long forgotten. “I remember. Fox… he shot him, to protect the Emperor.” It felt like lifetimes ago.

In a twisted sense, it was. It’d been during Fox’s lifetime, when he still came home to her every night.

Ahsoka hummed in agreement. “Right. Well, Fives had told Rex that the clones all had control chips in their heads, and that a damaged chip had caused another trooper to shoot a Jedi. No one believed him.” Her shoulders drooped. “I was able to capture Rex and take the chip out of his head, and he was back to normal. I… I let Maul out of his cell though as a distraction, and he damaged the ship so it crashed into a moon. We lost the whole battalion,” she finished in a whisper, head bowed.

“Oh, Ahsoka,” Riyo gasped. She wasn’t sure how a hug would be received, so she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Ahsoka’s eyes were teary when she looked up. “Thank you, but please don’t be for me. I took a risk, and it was Rex’s brothers that paid the consequences.” She shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m glad we found Wolffe. There have been other clones that escaped, but Wolffe was always one of his closest brothers.”

A small smile slipped onto her face unbidden. “I’m glad for the both of them as well. How did you find Com– Wolffe, though? You all barely made it here,” she pointed out.

The Togruta sighed. “You know Bail’s been coordinating a lot recently. We were sent out on a mission to try and contact a defector from the Empire. They’re a medic, and they’ve been treating several troopers sent to them for abnormal behavior. We arrived to get them out, and Wolffe was their latest patient, but they were being watched.” She stopped talking to peer at her work cautiously. “Is this correct?”

She stepped out of the way so Riyo could observe her work. “This is very good for anyone’s first try,” Riyo praised her. “Now we just need to grind it with some water to get a thick enough paste.”

Ahsoka waited for Riyo to set up the next step before continuing. “We had the freed men escort the medic onto our waiting ship, but we couldn’t take Wolffe back to base because of his chip. I followed their instructions to try and deactivate it, but we had to leave in a hurry. It took us a few days and several firefights before we lost them well enough to get here.”

“Had no idea you’d gotten that good with a blaster, either.”

Riyo bit back a shriek as Rex’s voice piped up from behind them. Good thing she’d been using the mortar and not a knife, otherwise she might’ve cut herself. At least he had the decency to send her an apologetic smile once she whirled around to face him.

“Gee thanks, Rex,” Ahsoka huffed, reaching out to playfully slap his chest. The two of them shared a grin, and Riyo decided to study the wooden floor beneath her feet until they snapped out of it. She wouldn’t dare disrupt their small moment of joy.

“I came out to let you know Wolffe is asleep again,” Rex finally explained his presence after he shook himself free of their little bubble. “We spoke some, but he tired quickly.”

That was good. He clearly was suffering from some form of head injury, so any amount of time Wolffe was able to be awake and coherent was a step in the right direction.

“Alright, that’s wonderful news. We should be able to apply this compress despite that.” Riyo picked up the bowl of ground javun and gestured at a clean cloth folded on the counter top. “Would you grab that and come with me? I’ll show you what to do, so you know how in the future.”

A quiet grief crept up her spine with each step she took back towards Wolffe’s room. He needed her help. She could pull herself together for him.

Riyo entered the room alone and took the seat beside Wolffe’s still form. Rex would be along in a minute.

Until then, she studied the still man’s face, finding and cataloguing each unique feature of him and hoping it wouldn’t come back to haunt her like before.

[yukiwrites]

Finally Together, Now and Forever

This was a commission for a dear friend that took a long time to finish due to personal life getting in the way, but I want to say that I really enjoyed writing this and that I don’t deserve you!! I love you and thank you so much for entrusting your beloved ship to me! Watch out for sin, ye who enters!

Summary: Claude had to leave Fódlan for the sake of both of their nations, but Byleth was determined to follow her beloved to Almyra as fast as possible. Once there, they would finally be able to live out their lives side by side.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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After a gruesome war that lasted over 6 years, the unification of Fódlan had finally started.

In Claude’s words, Fódlan was now a newborn; frail and easily upset. For that reason, he had moved back to Almyra so he and Byleth could work hand in hand from either side of the border so as to bring both kingdoms together.

To be completely honest, Byleth was slightly upset that she had to be left alone in Fódlan while her promised one went back home to settle things. Of course, she understood that she had to wear the mantle of a ruler after being the so-called hero of the war, but her home was where Claude -- no, Khalid -- was. So, the moment he stepped out of Fódlan, so did the place where she belonged to.

With that in mind, Byleth worked tirelessly as not only the leader of the Church but as the ruler of the Unified Fódlan with only one goal in mind: pass down her duties to Seteth and move to Almyra to stay with Khalid.

Of course, Khalid was aware that that was their shared purpose, but he didn’t know how much Byleth had pushed up that goal in her own agenda. She worked as though possessed -- assigning new officials, moving the capital of Fódlan to Derdriu, creating a new Knight Order with her own connections to spread throughout the land, selecting noble Houses and commoners alike to govern pieces of land by hand so they would offer their allegiance to the seat of the Leader… To the passerby, it felt as if Byleth had more hours in the day, or at least five more pairs of arms to sign and create documents.

She made sure to instruct the officials that they should pledge their allegiance to the leader of the Unified Fódlan, not Byleth herself, to which some of them nodded in confusion at first. It was only when Byleth announced that she was passing down the mantle to Seteth mere 5 months after being instated that the people around her finally understood her intentions.

Or seemed to understand, at least. For them, Byleth was someone so unlikely that they referred to her as something more than human. She was charismatic, strong, wielded the Sword of the Creator, defeated the possessed King of Liberation, freed the nation of corruption and completely revamped its law system in less than half a year. It was something impossible for the mere common man to compare, so when Byleth stepped down, they felt as though they had been in the presence of a higher being and were eternally grateful for her service.

Scratching her cheek, Byleth felt bad that the people started to see her even more as something impossible when she was simply using whatever means she had at hand to just go be with her love. Yes, she manipulated hands of time once or twice but if she had the power to, why not use it for the benefit of the people (and her own in the meantime)?

Ahem, anyway, Byleth’s point was that she wanted to get back into Khalid’s arms right away and be a bit mischievous while she was at it, so she did not send word ahead of her arrival.

Of course, as the former Leader of the Unified Fódlan, she had sent a missive about her stepping down from power to all of their friendly neighbors (which included Almyra, obviously), but what she didn’t specify was that she left Derdriu on the very next day towards Khalid’s homeland.

She was all smiles as she galloped through the Throat towards the mountain range that would allow her view of Almyra’s western border. From there, she would ride to the neighboring town and fetch a carriage to the capital where she would finally see her beloved.

So they wouldn’t miss each other, she sent word ahead of her the moment she arrived at the neighboring town, wondering what Khalid’s face would be once he received the news that she was basically already at his doorstep.

This trip was strangely liberating.

Byleth was never one to accumulate wealth or belongings, so she only took what she usually did whenever she went on a mercenary mission. It would probably be weird for the onlooker to know that such a lightly packed woman was moving countries and getting married.

But she didn’t care how she looked -- she only wanted to see Khalid one second earlier, even one moment sooner.

By the time the capital was within view, Byleth started to fidget inside the carriage. Had he received her message? Would he be waiting for her once she got off? She could barely contain the smile blooming at the corners of her face.

To her surprise and pleasure, Byleth found a very disheveled Khalid waiting for her at the boarding station, as though he had hurried to meet her there.

“And here I thought nothing could surprise me anymore!” Khalid huffed as he gave his hand for Byleth to exit the carriage. “You got me, Teach-mmph!” He grinned as he called her nickname, but instead of taking his hand, Byleth took his lips by wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Were you surprised?” She asked after placing smaller kisses on his soft lips, taking all the wind of his sails. Khalid blushed for a moment, pressed his lips into a thin line to hide a childish grin from sprouting and dug his face into Byleth’s shoulder for a deeper hug.

He was glad that he left the palace without an attendant, otherwise he would be nagged at the entire way back for this public display of affection. The prince put more strength in his hug, as though he had only just noticed that his loved one was finally within his arms -- hopefully indefinitely this time.

“Honestly, I was so shocked I think I sprouted some grey hairs. Care to check?” He chuckled with a low voice, slowly lifting his face from her shoulder to press his forehead on hers. Byleth hummed as she ran her fingers through his hair, tickling the tip of his ears.

“Hmm, you’re safe for now.” She threaded her hands through his hair, face and beard, as though committing to memory that she had finally arrived… that she was finally with him, ready to walk along life with him by her side. 

“Good. Hopefully my bride won’t give me any more frights like this one in the future.” He teased, finally letting go of the hug to take her by the hand. “Let’s get you to the palace; you must be tired from the trip.”

Byleth huffed, puffing her chest. “Not at all. Actually, I got reenergized the moment I saw you.”

Khalid pressed his lips as his face once again flushed. And here he thought he was the smooth talker of the relationship! How could she throw such a cheesy line with that straight face?

But, well, it wasn’t as though he didn’t feel the same, so he squeezed her hand in his.

“Yeah? Then let’s walk around a bit. I wanna know what you think about Almyra.” He lifted their hand hold with a shy smile, which made Byleth’s chest tingle with emotion.

Even if she couldn’t feel her own heartbeat, the love sprouting from within it was no less true than if she did. Nodding, Byleth allowed herself to be led by Khalid throughout the busy streets of the capital.

Even the buildings themselves were different -- they were built in a specific way that allowed for better air circulation, so one wouldn’t feel hot even in the middle of summer. The streets he guided her through were narrow, to make up for the large corridors that were home to many peddlers, heralds and gardens scattered throughout the city.

There were people dancing, smoking, eating, selling, buying… all amidst a colorful combination of tapestries, cushions and harmonized lifestyles. There were large mosques, with their domes built on rectangular plans and crescent moons on their top built right beside minarets proportional to the size of the mosque… Some of them were decorated with gold mosaic and marble floors, along with colorful walls.

According to Khalid, the capital was the trading hub of the entire Almyra due to its central location -- it wasn’t that far from the border, it also bordered the sea by quite a bit and there was a canal that crossed the entire city towards the other side of the continent. 

True to his words, the port was immense -- to the point that ‘the city of water’, Derdriu, could barely compare. How wonderful it was that they finally managed to put both kingdom’s differences aside to start the trade! They would both profit immensely with this.

Everything was so new and pretty Byleth couldn’t help but stare everywhere in awe.

Khalid chuckled beside her, squeezing her hand to call her attention to him. “To think that before, I could never tell what went on inside your head… Now you’re basically wearing your emotions in your sleeve!”

Still befuddled with all the colors, smells and beauty all around her, Byleth’s eyes shone. “It was you who helped me get in touch with my feelings, so I’m all the more grateful for that.” She replied as though in passing, quickly looking away to marvel at the song of a beautiful bird.

“...” Khalid covered his mouth with his free hand to hide the happy grin that sprouted on his lips as his cheeks flushed again with his bride’s confession. So that was how it was going to be, huh? He had to up his game if he wanted to compete with these cheesy lines Byleth was throwing at him.

He took a more proactive stance in showing her around, pointing at historical places and asking her what she thought they served for so he could boast his own knowledge.

“That place there was where the civil servants had their meetings in my grandfather’s reign. By the time we start our rule, it’s gonna be a thing of the past.”

Byleth’s eyes twinkled with the line about ‘their rule’, as her chest tingled with emotion for being able to be right there with her loved one as they wrote history side by side. “Show me more.” She nodded, puffing her chest.

“Alright, it’s a bit of a trek, but there’s no way one can visit the capital without going to the Grand Bazaar!” He pulled her to walk a bit faster, almost bumping into people who were carrying goods on their heads. The place was absolutely stunning -- it looked so absurdly large, Byleth wondered if they would be able to leave there by the end of the week -- with small and big merchants haggling side by side, huddling themselves to attract the customers’ attention.

There were tapestries, cloths, books, scrolls, perfumes, body oils, incense, food seasoning, fresh produce, paintings, jewelry… it was all sparkling amidst the merchants’ loud voices and people’s laughter all around.

“But be careful, if you weren’t a compulsive shopper before, it would be for the best not to test your will here.” He pointed at her nose with a serious expression, then shifted his gaze to a bag he was suddenly carrying. “... the merchants WILL get the best of you.”

Byleth burst in laughter, slapping Khalid’s shoulder comically. “What is all this?”

“As you can see, I’m also a victim.” He confessed sheepishly, turning back to the cloth merchant he was talking to a moment ago. “That guy’s your partner, right?” he pointed to the jewelry merchant a few stores away, “tell him to bring those three ornaments and gundle here too.”

“Oh, thank you for your patronage! These will go wonderful with your bride’s fair skin!” The man rubbed his hands together in anticipation for the big sale, smiling eagerly to the happy couple.

Byleth cocked her head to the side. “What’re you buying?”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on buying stuff for our wedding NOW, but there was this sale so it’s best to take the opportunity that’s handed to you, right?” He winked, making Byleth finally blush.

“Oh…” She shyly looked down before raising her gaze back up. “Let me help with the bags.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll send someone to get it later.” He waved his hand, then placed the bag he was carrying on top of the other purchases. He felt like doing a little mischief so he handed a seal to the merchant who eagerly awaited for the payment. “Someone will come with the gold to carry all the stuff, but don’t worry that I remember the price we agreed.”

Once the man took the seal his face went pale, finally recognizing the man he had just sold a bunch of high-quality items for a bargain: the prince! “W-what, Your Highne-”

“Haha, see you later!” Khalid laughed heartily, pulling Byleth so they could leave before the man suddenly remembered that the prices were different.

They had a spring in their step as the sun started to settle in the horizon, a signal that it was time to go back to the palace to finally introduce Byleth to her new family. The view of the sun’s last golden rays illuminating the colorful city made it for yet another breathtaking moment for Byleth, who took it all in with a deep, comfortable breath.

Watching her settle right into the city that raised him made Khalid feel all mushy inside. He scratched his nose as he guided her towards the palace.

“Since Mother is also a native from Fódlan, she really wanted to be able to play the part of the bride’s family. So you’ll have what she didn’t have, her words.” Khalid said with a proud smile on his lips.

“I have a lot to learn about your customs,” Byleth nodded. “I’ll do whatever is in my power to adapt well so we can live out our lives together, Khalid.” Her eyes shone with resolution as her mouth yet again spouted those kinds of lines with a straight face.

Khalid had to clear his throat to chuckle away the embarrassment, his chest tingling with emotion. “Don’t worry; you’re gonna do great.”

They walked the brightly lit corridors of the palace as Khalid explained where everything was located and how to get there, though he promised to give her a tour later.

“Before rushing out this morning, I managed to tell the people here that I was going to pick you up, so now there’s probably a room ready for you and I’ll take you there after dinner.” The prince opened the twin large doors leading to the royal dining room, revealing the large table full of foregin (ah, not anymore, Byleth was the foregin here) delicacies as the warm smell of food wafted around them.

At the top of the long table sat the Almyran king, Arash; and by his side there was the white skinned queen, Tiana. They welcomed Byleth in with twin smiles and open arms.

“What joy it is to finally meet the one my son spoke of in his letters.” Arash nodded so Byleth could sit, gesturing to his empty side. Khalid sat on his father’s left, taking Byleth to sit beside him.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both, King Arash and Queen Tiana.” Byleth bowed at her seat, watching how Khalid’s familiar smile was reflected between both of his parents, warming the bride’s heart.

“Please, we’ll be family soon. Call me Mother.” Tiana bobbed her head to the sides, wearing a satisfied grin. “We’ll be peas of a pod, you and I.”

“Hey, hey, hey, remember she’s MY bride, Mother.” Khalid laughed as he took Byleth’s hand -- the one where she wore the ring he had given her before they had separated. He, too, wore the ring she gave him in turn.

Tiana laughed loudly as Arash chuckled quietly, in that kind of harmony that only a coupe that had been together for an entire lifetime could display. Byleth felt that she would be right at home amidst this warm and welcoming family.

Everything had been a new experience the moment she stepped out of Fódlan, which Byleth absorbed like a sponge; she took all that Khalid’s homeland had to offer and accepted it gladly, with all of her being. Arash and Tiana were all smiles as they taught Byleth the names of the dishes and how to eat them during the entire dinner, under Khalid’s warm gaze.

After they reluctantly parted from the royal couple, Khalid led Byleth towards the wing designated for distinguished guests -- she would be moved to the crown princess room after the wedding, though -- walking at slow steps seemingly not wanting to leave her for the day.

“How was your mother accepted by the people of Almyra?” Byleth asked as she smoothed her fingers through the engraved walls.

“Hmm,” Khalid looked up in thought. “I told you that people had -- well, still have -- a lot of prejudice against Fódlan, right? It was a rough childhood and from what I heard -- since Mother and Father wouldn’t tell me with their own mouths -- she went through a lot of stuff back then, too. But in Almyra, strength is deeply appreciated and, boy, you wouldn’t want to fight my Mother.” He barked a laugh, remembering the men Tiana piled up whenever she went out to train.

“But even if she earned her place, you were still mistreated, right?”

“Meh, I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t bitter about it all, but it made me who I am today. It led me to Fódlan and, eventually, to you.” He kissed her hand amidst their hold, winking once they made eye contact.

Byleth smiled in turn, squeezing her hold in his as their steps were brought to a halt. They stood in front of Byleth’s room in silence, his fingers intertwined in hers unwilling to let go.

“Today was a long day, and the following days will be equally as long, but I’m glad that you’re here with me, Byleth.” He said in a whisper, as his warmth left hers. Once he was about to take a step back to allow her into her room, Byleth grabbed his sleeve.

“You’re leaving? I thought we would…” She glanced back to the door, biting her lower lip in anticipation.

Khalid’s face heated up with his bride’s suggestion, his body stiffening. “Well, uh, there are still some few weeks to the wedding, so I figured we’d…” He trailed off, awkwardly scratching his cheek.

Byleth tilted her head to the side in confusion. “But we did it before you left.” She said matter-of-factly, forcing the memories of their clumsy first time to resurface. They had been eager to have a taste of one another while also being pressed for time, so their touches were rough and awkward. After they parted, it only made them want each other more; to be able to fully take a hold of one’s beloved body and make it tremble with pleasure under but a touch.

They’ve been longing to be together again for so long their bodies ached.

Khalid gulped with difficulty, suddenly feeling the air very rare around them. “You know what,” he took off the button of his high-necked mantle, “I’m not waiting anymore.” He dove into her lips with a hunger of a starved man, digging his tongue into her mouth.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Byleth pulled him closer as she leaned on the door. Khalid slid one hand behind her back, gluing their bodies in a way that they could feel all that they had to offer while the other hand shuffled behind her to open the door. Once they were inside, they stumbled between their legs towards the bed, shoving the door closed behind them as an afterthought.

The first thing in Byleth’s mind was how fluffy the bed was -- she bounced right back up once she fell under Khalid -- but soon that thought was replaced by how hot Khalid was when she looked at him from below.

Panting after their long kiss, the couple fumbled with one another’s clothes -- Khalid with the straps around Byleth’s chest and Byleth with the buttons holding his mantle together. She felt the pressure around her chest loosen and immediately took off her top, revealing her bare skin.

Khalid held his breath for a second to appreciate how beautiful his bride was -- down to the shade of pink around her nipples. He licked his lips as he, too, took off his top and set to work on her breasts -- he took one in his mouth as he nudged the other between his fingers.

Byleth’s body shook as she lay down under Khalid’s erotic tongue movements, closing her eyes in pleasure. She dug her nails into his hair, pulling it the better he made her feel.

To be honest, Khalid had researched a lot in the arts of sexual relations after he went back home. He didn’t want Byleth to have that image of the clumsy first timer in her head forever, so he wanted to show off to her as soon as possible -- yet, the moment he had her naked splendor in front of him, his mind drew a blank.

He just wanted to taste her, to have her to himself in all of its meanings.

Trailing his tongue downwards to her navel, Khalid pulled down her shorts with gusto, breathing down on her most intimate part with the intensity of an avid taste-tester. Byleth naturally opened her legs to him, squirming under his touch as he opened her folds to insert his tongue in its midst.

“Ah…” Byleth bemoaned, throwing her head back in pleasure. That served only to spur Khalid’s tongue more as he searched for the spot that made her tremble with only but a tap. Once he felt her twitch with newfound gusto for her beloved’s mouth, Khalid slurped her clit, eager to drink from her most intimate place. “Ahn..!” That made Byleth pull his hair vigorously as her body shook with the sudden jolt of pleasure.

“Your voice is so sweet, my bride.” Khalid murmured in between her folds, threading his fingers through her milky skin towards her sex. Panting heavily, Byleth felt that she was left out, that he had stopped right when it was feeling good.

“You’re, ah… You’re bullying me.” She pouted as he rose from his position to free his pulsating erection from his pants. “You shouldn’t bully your elders, you know.” Byleth tried to tease, but her completely submissive pose made it sound more like a cheeky challenge rather than preaching: completely nude, with her legs spread open and her vulva pulsating with desire.

Khalid licked his lips, feeling the leftover taste of Byleth’s in his tongue. “What if I get addicted to it, Teach?” he said in a low voice, prodding his erection on her entrance. He could feel her twitching around him, as though she wanted to suck him in before he could even penetrate her.

He felt her huffing breath in his neck as he lowered himself to place kisses on her ear, wanting to hear her voice once he put it in from the closest distance as possible. Byleth naturally wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist as she rocked her hips teasingly, inviting him in; tempting him into claiming her as her rightful husband.

To feel her hot breathing on his ear, her eager nails digging on his back in anticipation, the way she moved herself up and down in wait for his entrance… Khalid felt weak in the legs. He bit his beloved's neck as he slid his erection in, slowly being welcomed into her deepest warmth.

“Ahn…!” Byleth let out a loud moan as he slid it in so gradually she had to bite his shoulder so as to keep herself sane. It felt so inexplicably good; to finally conjoin with the one she’s loved for so long… to have his equally deep desire flood her from within; to share the heat with him and only, oh and only him.

“This feels… you feel so good, my bride.” He huffed, pressing his forehead on hers before succumbing to her lips as his lower body pulled out and pushed in rhythmically.

Their moans became one in their kiss, his movements slow and steady at first, but soon gaining momentum in their blind search for pleasure. He dove deep and pulled out entirely, pounding her insides in a way that Byleth never thought possible; in a way that she would grow addicted to in their shared future.

Unwilling to let his lips out of hers, Byleth dug her nails into his scalp once more, pulling him to her making him go deeper with each thrust, making him love her with each movement.

Khalid squeezed his eyes as he approached the epitome of pleasure, his movements accelerating in harmony with the building discharge of their joined satisfaction. Byleth squeezed his shaft within her, the heat within her womb spreading through her entire body after one last deep thrust.

They came at the same time, panting as though they had reached enlightenment. Khalid fell on top of Byleth, exhausted but also refreshed, content but also in need of more. Huffing, Byleth hugged beloved, her legs still weak from the intense orgasm.

“I love you, Khalid.” She confessed amidst their drunk kisses.

“Stole the words out of my mouth, my bride. I love you too.” He closed his eyes to enjoy her tongue one more time, the vigor of their youth spurring them into succumbing to pleasure again and again throughout the night.

True to Khalid’s words from before, the wedding preparations would take a few weeks to be done. In the meantime, Byleth was instructed in how the usual almyran bride behaved during the ceremony and what to watch out for as they prepared themselves to be bound together for eternity.

Tiana took to Byleth like she truly was her own daughter. The queen taught her everything she wished someone had taught her when it was her turn as a bride, and made sure to be the one to preside the henna night once the time came. She wanted Byleth’s pale skin to shine with the culture Tiana absorbed as her own, wanting her daughter to be as happy as she ever could within this land that would one day house their funerals.

The patterns on Byleth and Khalid’s hands were a mirror of each other -- or rather, they complemented each other once they joined hands, blooming a wonderful pattern that would grow even more beautiful on the day of the wedding.

Bridal preparations were on full swing whenever Byleth’s beauty was concerned: Tiana had her body anointed with oil, applied perfumes and washed her hair with jasmine extracts, not to mention the creams and special diets. Byleth’s make-up was done by the lady who knew best how to enhance one’s eyes with their traditional eyeliner which went in perfect harmony with the henna on her hands and feet.

While she got the final touches on herself, Khalid had left from the entrance of the city to preside over a zaffa, a wedding procession, towards the castle. There were many entertainers, loud music, firecrackers and colorful decorations all around, to showcase to anyone, high and low, that their prince was about to get married.

People flocked behind the zaffa merrily, entering the outer castle along with all entertainers. The prince went up the steps towards the place whence his bride waited for him, bowing to his mother (that acted as the bride’s mother) to allow him to take the bride’s hand towards the wedding hall.

Outside, people from all kinds of backgrounds were allowed to enter and enjoy the festivities -- and later they would distribute more food to those of lesser possessions to share their happiness with the entire land.

Once Byleth took Khalid’s hand to get inside, they were finally able to take a look at one another in their wedding attires, both being washed over with emotion as they wore twin smiles on their faces.

“Forever,” Byleth murmured as they walked in.

“And beyond.” Khalid replied in a low voice, squeezing her hand before they sat on their thrones to watch over the party side by side.

Their vows hadn’t changed ever since they were taken hastily back in Fódlan. But now, oh, now they were finally able to say proudly that they had just taken the first step of the rest of their lives.

[stellar-imagines]

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝hey, Mr. Villain.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Midoriya Izuku (Villain) ]

「Scenario of Villain Deku with reader who's an information broker. The two met one another in a bar and has a really interesting relationship with one another. The reader sells information to both heroes and villains, completely disregarding their status.」

MIDORIYA IZUKU (VILLAIN)

Sometimes, you weren't sure which side you were on. Was it on the good side or the bad side? But all you knew that things like these were fun. Surely, this line of work isn't something your parents would be proud of. Then again, you could no longer remember their faces after being abandoned by them and sent to an orphanage. You were what people would call an information broker. Selling information was very fun. Not only you could name any price you wanted but you could witness the chaos and conflict that erupts. There were heroes and villains who knew of you but you were always equal to your clients, no matter what side they belong to.

The only reason you were only able to run free was thanks to the heroes and villains who kept your existence a secret from one another. One of your favorite places to trade information was a small bar in the back alley and it was known to very few people. You have befriended the bartender who happened to be the owner. He was a man no older than 40, someone very knowledgable about alcohol. You find yourself sitting by the bar, shrugging off your vest, and stretching your arms. The bar was empty, the seats were unoccupied. The bartender quickly acknowledged your presence and smiled at you.

"Good evening, [Last Name]-san. A long day at work, I suppose?" the man began to prepare your drink while you made yourself comfortable. There was gentle music playing in the background, one that soothed your nerves. A soft sigh left your lips as you rested your elbows onto the table, supporting your head with your left hand.

"You know it. Anyway, you have to hear this, barkeep. There was a car crash today. I was trading information with a mafioso and apparently the information he just traded with me was top secret. Later that day, it's reported that he's hospitalized from the car crash." you said while the bartender gently placed a coaster and a glass filled with some liquid over it.

"Then I was almost killed because my client slipped out the fact that he had passed on the information before being taken away. Well, I managed to escape."

You grabbed hold of the glass and swirled in the contents as the ice clinked against the walls of the cup. A river of clear-golden cider flowing over crystal cubes. The glass was then raised to your lips and you inhaled the scent of your drink. A sip was all it took. The taste is like a hypothetical melted scoop of apple gelato. It's as if you were drinking the juice from ten apples in one gulp—multiplied by alcohol. It has a nice tartness without becoming syrupy sweet. The taste had you humming and sighing in the content. The stress from putting your life on the line was suddenly washed away.

"Almost all critical and classified information in the world is in your hands. Your head's full of them that's more valuable than gold. There must be as many enemies as there are stars in the sky who wish to torture you for information." the bartender was busy wiping glasses as he said this.

"But you seem so happy." he smiled.

"Well, it's because the information seems to be interesting and I look forward to others that might mix things up a bit in this case. Because I have a feeling it's far from over." you chuckled gently.

You always appeared to be an innocent civilian outside your work. You didn't have any friends at all aside from the bartender and probably the very few people you always traded information with. While you drank, you had your phone in your right hand, looking through the news on heroes. They seem to be performing well recently, stopping villain attacks, helping, and protecting civilians. In a way, your job is helping people but its completely different from what heroes normally do.

A plain white long-sleeved top finished off with a black vest, a tie, and black trousers. If he weren't sitting two seats away from you with a drink in hand, you would easily mistake him as a bartender. His face looked a bit young, framed by a short mess of fluffy dark-green hair that sticks up at odd angles. Somehow it looks really fluffy too.  His eyes are large and somewhat circular, their irises the same green color as his hair. He has a set of four symmetrical freckles in diamond formations, one on each cheek. You recognized him as one of the most notorious villain.

"So you're the infamous informant broker?" he spoke first.

"And you're the villain, Deku right?" you asked.

"Oh! Am I that famous?" he perked up.

You chuckled at the sight of his face lighting up in surprise. Sure it probably was him just messing around with you and faking an expression. Deku smiles at you in response and you couldn't help but think that he looked quite attractive despite being a villain. You've heard a lot of rumors about him but honestly, this was your first time seeing him face to face like this. And you couldn't help but think that he's quite attractive. Overall he looks innocent but you've met countless villains before and you could see the crazed look in his eyes. 

"So, you needed something from me? You're quite lucky to run into me in this getup." you said, setting down your drink back onto the coaster.

"Are you implying that this is how you really look?"

Your quirk was a strong one but you never really used it for combat, you often it used to hide your identity and to escape. The name given to your quirk was Illusion. It revolves around the use of illusions, allowing you to create illusions that deceive many people. You can also determine who sees and hears the illusions and who doesn't. When the targets strike the illusions, they will break after a few hits. You often used your quirk to change your appearance and sneak into places, it was easy to deceive cameras and people with a little bit of acting. 

"Perhaps." you shrugged with a coy smile.

Deku was surprisingly a talkative person and a smooth talker. You've had your fair share of guys that flirted and tried to pick you up but none of them actually caught your interest. Most of the time, you would do this for the sake of obtaining information. But with Deku, you were genuinely interested in whatever topics he brought up. It was as if you were talking with one of your old friends. You felt at ease and even thought that lowering your guard wouldn't be a problem at all. Then again, the bar was a quiet place with only you, Deku, and the bartender inside. He was a gentleman through and through, even going as far as to pay for your drinks.

The two of you had an odd relationship. You both flirted with one another often, acting like lovers when you're actually not. However, you couldn't deny that Deku is an attractive person.

You’d always meet Deku in the same bar at the same time. Sometimes he’d pay for your drinks and sometimes you’d pay for his. He was probably one of the very few people that actually meet up with you just to spend some time instead for information. He often went on about his day, talking about how he just got rid of an organization that was using his name, spreading false rumors which caused other organizations to attack them. It was very interesting for you to hear him talk about his thrilling life. As an information broker, you often assisted people who're living a lifestyle where they know they could lose your life at any moment was to be expected. 

It was the kind of lifestyle you can never relate to. Of course, just like any other human, you feared death. You preferred listening to stories of people living that lifestyle you could never imagine yourself in. You actually loved watching from a distance whenever a fight breaks out. It's like watching an action movie for free and thanks to your quirk, you get a front-row seat to it.

"Damn, they’re at it again."

"What's it this time?"

"The port on the north, there was a fight between two organizations and it blew up!" 

You heard people whispering about that while you were walking around town. At that moment, you recalled blurting out that a certain organization was planning on shipping high-quality explosives to Yokohama. The only people you told that to were ones that were really close to you. As you stepped into the bar, you were greeted warmly by the bartender and the music. Your eyes landed on the familiar figure sitting by the counter, casually sipping their drink and looking like he has been here for quite a while.

"That was quite an explosion, Deku-kun!" you exclaimed, skipping over and taking a seat next to the man. He let out a chuckle in return, his posture was relaxed and just by looking at him, he was giving off an innocent vibe.

"Hm? What are you talking about?" he feigned innocence with a smile.

The two of you conversed like usual. It was all over the news that there were theories that Deku was the culprit behind this explosion but the police didn't have enough evidence. On the other hand, you had been observing the whole incident from a very safe place. It was very thrilling, there were quirkless people with weapons and a ton of action. The explosion was one that attracted attention and woke up countless of people. Despite being within a safe distance, the heat from the explosion and the noise managed to deafen your ears. You knew that it was him because you only remembered babbling about it while you were in the bar. What’s more, it wasn’t a fight between two organizations. It was only Deku single-handedly destroying the entire port.

”Maybe I should’ve become a detective instead.” you hummed.

”No way. This job suits you well.” Deku said with an innocent smile, leaning against you.

”With that innocent vibe you give off and your quirk.....And not mention, your irresistible charm and draws in men.” Deku takes hold of your hand and gently strokes the back of your hand with his gloved hand.

“Don’t tell me that you’ve fallen in love with me?” you teased playfully.

”Perhaps I have.” Deku answers within a heartbeat. He sounds pretty serious for once, dropping the playful smirk that he usually has. But that serious look disappeared and was replaced with that usual grin he had. He chuckled and told you that he was just joking. You rolled your eyes in response and watched as he sipped his drink.

"Any man would be lucky to have you as a girlfriend. I know I would be." Deku rested his elbow on the counter, holding his cheek with his hand and looking at you.

"Is that your way of asking me out?" you smiled cheekily at him.

"Not today sweetheart. I will ask you out in a way that will blow your mind." Deku said with a confident smirk. You could only smile at him.

"I look forward to it."

On the next night, instead of heading to the bar, you decided to head elsewhere. The streets were still busy with people crossing the road and cars passing by. However, you took another road that was small and vacant. You were closing in on an abandoned building by the port which was currently used as a storage. As you looked up into the sky, you could see a few heroes flying in the air and making their way to the same destination as you were. You laid low, ensuring that no cameras and people caught you snooping around. 

When you arrived at the abandoned storage building, you could hear a conversation going on while you sneaked into the building, and found the perfect spot to watch everything unfold. This kind of information will really sell well, especially to the news reporters. You kept quiet, holding onto a voice recording tool as you sit atop a bunch of crates, swinging your legs back and forth.

"Villain Deku. On the criminal charges of complicity in 140 murders, 67 cases of extortion, and sundry other crimes. You are under arrest."

"I guess I have finally been caught." Deku raised his hands in defeat. He was out of tricks, even injured from fighting against heroes. He was laying atop of broken crates, blood running down his face and his body ached all over. His wounds weren't that major but if he moved, it was still painful. Not to mention, his pristine white dress shirt was soaked in his own blood.

Deku finds himself closing his eyes and letting out a sigh.

"Hey, Deku. Do you want to live?" 

Your familiar voice caused him to open his eyes. He has never felt this relieved to see you here. Seeing you smiling at him made him smile too. His gaze softened into the one that you’re used with, one that was playful and loving.

All of a sudden, the moon emerged from its hiding spot behind the clouds. The moonlight cast a silhouette over your figure and with the help of your quirk, you were well disguised, looking like a completely different person. You stood at the top of a stack of crates and the spot where the moonlight shone onto the building. Using your quirk, you changed your appearance, from your hair to your clothes. Instead of making yourself visible to only Deku, you decided to reveal yourself to everyone. While everyone still has their attention on you, you hopped off the crate and landed on your feet gracefully. The people Deku were fighting against heroes who were looking into the port explosion incident.

"Oh! You came to save me?" Deku's eyes gleam in surprise. 

"I can't have you dying." you stood in front of the villain who was knocked down with debris of the crates scratched up his skin. You paid no heed to the heroes who were telling you to get out of the way and wondering whether you were an accomplice or not. 

"Not when you promised me a date."

"What kind of magic are you gonna show me today?" Deku finds himself smiling at you. He knows the full extent of your quirk and has seen you actually use it before. It was very versatile. You could create a smokescreen and use that chance to escape. Or you could create illusions of soldiers to distract the heroes and escape. Honestly, the things you could do were endless. You pulled out a grenade from your pockets and waved it around.

"Nothing. Just a simple old grenade." you grinned.

You both miraculously escaped despite your half-assed way of escaping. Normally, you always planned everything carefully to avoid people looking for you. However, you just felt like taking a risk today. You took Deku to your apartment to patch him up. This was your very first time actually bringing someone to your apartment and you couldn't believe that Deku was the first-ever person you've brought.

"I feel like I just did something really bad." you muttered to yourself as you gathered the medical supplies you had laid out.

"Would you feel better if I took you out on a romantic date as thanks?"

"Maybe." 

Total: 2595 words Published: 09.09.2020

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ First time writing for villain Deku! Hope you liked it anon! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! How does one write for villain Deku? Our very first time But we hope you enjoyed this, anon! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[self-shipyard]

Can I hear about your ship with Ghiaccio? I'm so interested to learn about you two!

Hey Lace! Thank you for asking; I'd love to tell you about my ship with him!

(Pardon me if this is a lot of info, by the way; I got a little excited)

...

It started out as us just being coworkers; I was brought on as Ris.otto's assistant, which means I either organize paperwork or go on missions with the others if necessary. Now, being his assistant wasn't an active choice; I accidentally got caught in the middle of a fight between R.isotto and an OC of mine who stole one of the st.and arrows, but hey, it was something to do while attending college there!

Gh.ia and I were (and still are) paired off pretty often for missions because our stands happen to work very well together. You see, my st.and creates a water-like substance that can be manipulated and can be affected by his freezing ability. It's named Y.ellow S.ubmarine!

(I do plan to update the reference in terms of its design because it's changed since the initial sketch, but the first link gives a general "what it can do")

The romantic feelings started after our first mission (which involved us getting trapped in a tight closet together and the targets teasing us about it). Gh.ia was intrigued by my calm yet optimistic nature and I was intrigued by how confident and outspoken he is. Intrigue turned into a massive crush on both sides.

Although we both tried our best to ignore the pining for our own reasons, a shared reason being "They wouldn't want to be with someone like me.." This goes on for a month, and the other teammates got pretty annoyed by it because the way we acted around each other made them collectively go "Jesus, just kiss already!" Some went as far as to tease us mercilessly about it.

Fun Fact: I.lluso was the worst when it came to this teasing. Maybe it's because he thought seeing the way we reacted was funny?

Then finally, Gh.ia gave me a music CD; we both started talking a lot more after we found out that we both loved the Be.atles and he said he was going to share with me his personal mix. Little did I know that the CD contained a message from him asking me out (he really didn't want the other guys hearing him ask me out himself, which is very understandable). I told him that I'd love to, and the rest fell right into place!

Our dynamic can be best described as like fire and water; he helps me speak up and I help him slow down. We balance each other out and we're comfortable enough to share things we wouldn't share with other people. We just find so much safety and comfort in each other and we wouldn't trade it for anything!

Also, we're way more affectionate in the privacy of our own shared apartment. You'd think that we weren't at all if you saw us together in public, aside from handholding and the occasional kissing. We just prefer to share our intimate moments without the possibility of being interrupted.

And we'll be getting married, maybe in a month or maybe in a few weeks... It still blows me away that I'll get to call that man my husband (and not on accident like I had been since May)

...

That's about all I have! Thank you again for asking! If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

Or, if you'd like, I've played a lot of asks games with him, and they're filed under #💌sal's asks (speaking of which, I do need to give a tag for HC-esque stuff)