#not ship and not meant to be read as she's his child either

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Thinking about Deuteronomy again, being that first point of contact for most cats in being welcomed into their family, newborns and new additions alike, but I'm thinking specifically about cats who were perhaps born into their group, left, and *then* came back, and how those are usually situations where Deuteronomy can sort of...tell if they'll be back when they do leave. He can't say anything about it, but he knows. Cats who know him very well can almost catch the expression that indicates one way or the other when he's informed of their leaving if he believes they'll be back. And - outside of the occasional anomaly - he's usually right about it.

He remembers, distantly, holding a little grey queenkit in his arms during one of his visits years and years ago, fresh faced and lovely, thinking: "This one will do big things" - not great things, not even potentially successful things, but big things nonetheless. He remembers a whisper of her little voice filled with confidence fading suddenly into silence; remembers thinking he hoped she would eventually find whatever it was she couldn't here, that she would find her way back when it was time, carefully avoiding the even stare of her mother as he passed her back.

And when he holds that little grey queen in his arms decades later, just when he thought he'd been wrong, only a little bigger, the sharp curves of her bones jutting from her fur, face so much older now, he sees that little one again, and smiles. Murmurs: "Welcome home", before he passes her onto the stars, hoping she finds her way back again to make up for lost time.

[muffinlance]

prompt: Ozai has Azula watch Zuko (his progress or rather lack thereof) from way earlier on, possibly even before Aang gets away from the iceberg in the first place

There it is, written at the bottom of his banishment notice, wobbling in and out of his vision and he’s not sure if it's his eyes—

(Father wouldn’t have meant to blind him. Being blind won't help him catch the Avatar, so he’ll just not go blind.)

It’s either his eyes, or. Or the rage. It has to be the rage.

So Zuko reads the line again, and lets the fire brim up and overflow, until sparks chase the shout from his lips.

“Banishment to be overseen by Crown Princess Azula?”

- - -

“Prince Zuko,” Azula says, standing as tall as an eleven year old can. She’s using his title, so that he’ll use hers. And if he doesn’t then he’s ill-mannered and not fit for his own. 

“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko grits out.

“I’ll just be inspecting your ship, then. Father’s orders.”

Two men are in shackles by the time she’s done. 

“—Fostering mutiny against your prince,” she is yelling, and somehow her voice is just as high-pitched as his without sounding childish at all. “When our father hears about this—”

- - -

“So you had them executed,” Fire Lord Ozai inquires. Lightly. And from behind his flames.

“Of course, father,” says the kneeling child. “It was an attack on our family.”

Her father doesn’t say anything.

Azula is eleven. Eleven, she had presumed, was old enough to count. 

One, two, three. Four, with Uncle. The royal family.

Her father is silent still.

One. Two.

“Forgive my impertinence, Fire Lord,” she says. “I will bring them to you for judgment next time.”

“Do so,” Fire Lord Ozai says. He does not contest the ‘next time.’

- - -

“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko says.

“Your bandage is off, brother,” Azula says. “Are you blind?”

“No.”

(The blur of her red robes, the eye-searing glint of sunlight off her headpiece—he’s not blind in that eye. He’s just… still recovering.)

“Lovely,” she says. “Then what’s your excuse for the condition of this ship?”

…He has an increased budget for repairs, by the time she’s done. 

- - -

“Brother,” Azula says, “traditionally knives are to be delivered to the back.”

“I… what?” her brother says, still holding out the inexplicable thing. “No, I bought it at port. For you. See, it matches the one Uncle got me.”

“How original,” she says.

Her brother turns a shade of red that puts his bending to shame. Not that it’s a particularly high bar. “Fine, I’ll just—throw it out.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. At the least, Mai will want it.”

- - -

“Nice knife,” says Mai, looking at the hilt peeking out of Azula’s boot.

“Be silent,” Azula says, thus ending that conversation.

- - -

“Did great-grandfather… did we…” starts her brother, fresh from scurrying about the Eastern Air Temple like some particularly dim-witted pheasant-monkey, the dust not even brushed from his clothes even though he knew her ship was waiting down here. “Azula, there were children—”

“Be silent,” she says.

- - -

“You’re leaving frequently,” comments father, as his knife cuts through the pheasant-monkey, clicking against the plate below. The persimmon-cherry sauce is thick and red and smearing.  

“I find it advantageous to cultivate a working knowledge of our nation’s tactics,” Azula answers. She does not push around her meat like a child, but she does eat only lightly; the dish is more sour than she remembers.

“And your brother?”

“Oh, him,” she says, to which her father smiles.

- - -

“...What?” Zuko asks, blinking down at the scrolls. 

“It’s your birthday,” Azula says. “Apparently, I should have gotten you a calendar.”

“Thank you?”

She sighs.

- - -

“Do we… tell him we can hear him?” asks the assistant cook, as the prince continues monologuing. Dramatically, and loudly. Through the pipe connecting the drain of the kitchen sink to the ones in the shower. 

“Ssh, I think this is one of his new plays.”

- - -

She gets him a calendar for his next birthday. It’s not funny.

- - -

He gets her a doll, for hers. The look on Uncle’s face as she torches it in front of them both is hilarious.

- - -

“Brother,” she says, looking up at the damage to his ship. “This is not the way to requisition additional repair funds.”

“Captain Zhao,” her uncle says in the background, with heights of pleasant antagonism she can only aspire to. As if a general could mistake Zhao’s new insignia. Particularly with all the polishing he does. 

“It’s commander now.”

“How did you manage this?” she asks.

“Uh,” Zuko says. “Can we… speak alone?”

She eyes her brother’s shifting stance. Eyes, too, the way Zhao’s men are already moving to intercept and interrogate his crew. One of the new commander’s more noxious habits is stalking her brother’s every move. 

Well. She’d been meaning to deal with that, anyway.

Azula snaps her fingers at the commander’s guards.

“Detain him,” she says. And for a moment, just a moment, her dear uncle freezes, as if she were talking about someone he actually cared for.

The guards don’t. She’s trained them better than that.

“Princess,” Commander Zhao says, his snarl well hidden behind a smile. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Crown Princess Azula,” she corrects. “Now hush; the adults are talking.”

- - -

They have an Avatar to catch, apparently. Her brother is coming home.

[yourmidnightlover]

nevermore…

chapter 1: dancing around

pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: reader has newfound abilities with her mind and is continuing to uncover new powers as her parents ship her off to nevermore out of fear and disgust. xavier helps reader during their time at nevermore.

warnings: readers mom is terrible, panic attack, i don’t think there’s anything else but please let me know if you find anything that may need to be warned about!

a/n: this is the first chapter in a series i’m starting

chapter 2 here

“i don’t want to go,” you cried as your mother continued to pack your bags. “i don’t need to go! i can be normal, i can make it-“

“no!” she zipped up your bag as you angrily wiped your eyes. “you can’t control it,” she shoved her finger in your face. “you throw things around my house while eating, you start floating when you’re in class, you’re not normal! until you learn to control this you’re not my daughter either.”

“you don’t… you don’t mean that,” you held onto the hand that was waving in your face. “i-im still your daughter. im still the same old y/n that you love.”

she scoffed in disgust as she ripped her hand away from your grip, wiping it on her clothes, “no. you’re an abomination. you’re a freak,” she snarled. “no child of mine is a freak.”

that was the last time you spoke to your mother. now, here you are on a train to the nevermore boarding school. she had heard from it while on some lame business trip, picked up a pamphlet and everything. now you were questioning the fact that she ever had a business trip in the first place.

clearly she was just scoping out the place. maybe that meant she cared enough to ensure the school was right for you, or maybe she simply had to talk to someone to make sure they could handle her problem child.

when the train screeched to a stop, you held onto your bags tightly as you began to stroll off the vehicle your mother forced you onto. eventually, you might be able to ignore the sting that’s pierced your heart due to your parent stabbing it.

she was scared of you.

you never hurt her, yet she was frightened. the thought of your powers escalating and you being more powerful terrified her to no extent.

it started with you accidentally spilling drinks. you would simply be talking with your hands and suddenly a drunk across the counter would spill in the direction you were motioning. your mother picked up on it almost immediately, making you clean it up and forcing you to claps your hands neatly in your lap every time you were to talk.

then you had began to read her thoughts. you would hear the sarcasm in her head as she said i love you. the attitude that would reverberate every single time you apologized for your powers glitching out.

when you started floating, which was really just glorified floating, she was at her wits’ end. it wasn’t but two days later when she shoved you on that train and sent you off.

“welcome to nevermore, y/n y/l/n,” principal weems announced happily, her arms opening in a grand way. “let me show you to your dorm,”

“will,” you sighed, trying to push down the rising frustration and anger. “will this school help me learn to control it? the mind stuff?”

“darling,” principal weems reached to grasp your hand, stroking it gently with her thumb. “this school is the best place for you to not only learn to appreciate and use your powers, but also for you to feel welcomed and not alone.”

“thank you,” you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “i hope that’s all true.”

“now,” principal weems began to explain as she walked you towards your dorm. “your roommate is a vampire, yoko. she’s truly one of the sweetest students we’ve had grace the halls of nevermore. you’ve nothing to worry about. she’ll be able to give you a tour of campus and explain everything to you. i also need to meet with you at 2 pm about extracurricular activities.”

weems knocked quietly before opening the door, revealing the room to the both of you. “hi,” you meekly spoke. “i’m-“

“y/n,” she nodded as she got up and greeted you with a hug. “welcome to nevermore,” she gave you a sweet smile, genuine even. “it’s odd that you’ve come mid-semester since that doesn’t normally happen, but i see they’ve made a proper exception!”

you looked up towards the principal, wanting some answers. “well, your mother made it seem as though this was urgent, and i happen to agree,” she explained.

“my mother doesn’t care about what happens to me,” you muttered as your gaze hit the old wooden floors. splinters we’re peaking out of nearly every board, you made a note to make sure to wear shoes at all times.

“well,” weems began to speak. “i suppose i’ll leave you two to it! be sure to give her the tour, and y/n, your things are being brought up as we speak.”

“this is the quad,” she spoke as you both walked slow to give you time to observe everything. “and, of course, like any other school, this one also has those very same cliques,” she began pointing to tables that were gathered together talking. “they have these specific ‘names’ but it’s kinda stupid. these are the vamps, my crew,” she gave them a wave as she continued to walk with you. “these are the werewolves, the sirens, and i must give you a special note of bianca, the resident queen of nevermore, and of course the gorgons.”

“seems simple enough,” you took a deep breath as you saw one person estranged from everyone else, painting the wall. “who’s he?”

god, these dreams just keep getting worse. i mean first this weird creature and now i’m seeing some girl? it just doesn’t make sense.

“hey,” yoko squeezed your shoulder. “what was that? you just zoned out.”

“oh um…” you furrowed your brows while trying to explain. “i have these mind ability things, but i have no control over them. i can move things with my mind, read minds, and apparently levitate? it’s weird,” you rolled your eyes as your gaze fixed on the same boy, finding that his met yours. when they did they widened with surprise.

her. why… she’s here?

“who-who is he?” you nodded your head towards him. he began to stare at you, a smile gracing his face. you simply turned your head the other way.

“that is xavier thorpe,” her arm was now redting over your shoulders. “he’s our resident tortured artist, really talented, kind of a loner.”

“hm,” you nodded as you looked back at him. your eyes met once more before he smiled and quickly looked back towards the mural he was painting.

“and that’s basically everything,” she shrugged. “wanna sit with me and the vamps? you don’t have to, but you’re more than welcome.”

“i’m good, i think i’m just gonna familiarize myself with the place, walk around a bit,” you began to walk away as she nodded.

you were simply wandering around. the school is extremely old, surely there are some little secrets about the place you’d be able to uncover. the library seemed normal enough, recently built. the floors weren’t splintering like the ones in your room. each book was dust free, the emblems were polished, clearly no secrets hidden away in the room.

making your way outside, you had stumbled upon an old, run-down shed. vibes were growing in the sides of the building, surely on the inside as well. you opened the freely doors to see the building was overgrown with plants and vines from outside. it was promising. the structure was sturdy and rather beautiful.

after checking the time on your phone, you realized it was 1:50. you rushed into principal weems office before it was even 1:59, you enjoyed being punctual.

“principal weems,” you nodded as you entered her office.

“y/n!” she stood and gestured for you to take a seat. “now, what kind of activities are you interested in? i have a list of extracurricular activities that you may be interested in if you’d like to take a look.”

the list was long, very long. there was poetry, dancing, fencing, orchestra, choir, potions, boating, beekeeping, and so much more.

“i’ve heard that your mother was always an excellent dancer,” weems mused, trying to encourage you.

“i guess,” you nodded. “i guess i can do that one.”

“oh, that sounds lovely!” she nodded as she wrote something down. “now there’s an even number for pairs.”

“i do have a question…” you began. “i found this old shed on campus. it’s run down but i was wondering if i could work on it? in my free time?”

“well, i think that’d be lovely,” she nodded. “we have gardening tools you can grab from ms. thornhill.”

once you found a garden hoe and shovel. you started at the roots of the vines, tearing them from the ground and tossing them outside.

from books to jewelry, you had always loved restoring things. it was so easy to see the beauty in things that were new, but you were able to see the beauty in even the things that were old or damaged.

it only took you three hours to clear out all of the greenery. you figured that was good enough until you got more supplies.

after closing the door, your head towards the ground, you bumped into someone.

“woah, sorry,” the voice had apologized. you looked up at the voice, seeing xavier thorpe, holding your shoulders so you remained steady. “hi,” he had a beautiful smile.

“sorry,” you looked back down. “i was just leaving,” you began to walk away from the boy.

“i’m xavier!” he called out, you stopped in your tracks. “xavier thorpe,” you turned to face him.

“i know,” you nodded before continuing to walk away, back towards your dorm.

i need to know her.

you turned to see his eyes trailing you, his face in deep thought.

there’s no reason you can think of as to why he’d be so caught up on you, if it was even you he’s thinking about.

-

“alright class!” the dance teacher began to speak. “pair up with one another, we’ll be doing a classic waltz.”

you stood there, waiting for some leftovers to pair up with. you weren’t going to be the one to make the first move, especially since you’re new.

“hey,” xavier appeared in front of you with a smile so beautiful it was torture.

“xavier,” you nodded, pressing your lips together as you waited for him to do whatever it is that he wanted.

“do you have a partner yet, mystery girl?”

“well, no,” you shook your head. “i don’t think the new girl is ever the first person to have a partner, xavier.”

“y’know i don’t think it’s very fair that i still don’t know your name,” he held his hand out for you to grab, you rested it on top of his larger hand. “especially now that we’re partners.”

“we’re partners?”

he nodded his head as he began to hold your hand, rather than just let yours rest stop his, “that we are, mystery girl.”

“alright,” the teacher clapped her hands together as she began to instruct where hand placement should be. “the lead should rest their right hand on their partner’s back, holding their hand with the other. the followers left hand should go on their partners shoulder.”

“i should lead,” you told him. “my mother danced for years, im well versed in almost everything.”

“funny you should mention,” he rested his hand on your back, bringing your hand to his shoulder. “i’ve been to a few of my father’s functions, had professional lessons in ballroom dancing.”

“whatever,” you sighed as you let him take the lead.

“remember,” the teacher began to emphasize. “you aren’t dancing in a plague. you need to get close in order to feel the rhythm with one another.”

“you heard her,” he stepped closer to you, you held your breath. “we need to get close.”

you met his eyes, not missing the annoyingly smug grin that adorned his face. “we were fine before,” you shrugged.

his thumb stroked your back, “teacher’s orders. not my fault,” you felt his shoulders shrug underneath your hand.

it had been a long time since you were so close to a person. your own mother hadn’t hugged you since you were a child, since you were normal.

the way your hand fit in his was more comfortable than you thought it could ever be. it was warm, welcoming, even. it was right.

so, you shut your mouth. you stepped an inch closer to xavier, you held onto his hand a little tighter, and you let yourself be close to someone for at least one dance.

“why won’t you tell me your name?” he whispered as the teacher began to instruct the movements to make.

“just for you to forget it? no point in it,” it was your turn to shrug.

“i’m not one to typically forget something so significant,” you wouldn’t meet his eyes. you simply looked at your feet as they moved around the floor. “do you not know that everyone’s been talking about you?”

“oh… no, i didn’t know,” you shook your head. “what’re they saying?”

“y’know,” he tilted his head, effectively getting your attention. “just that you’re some mystery girl that happens to be pretty cute.”

“i’m also a girl who knows how things like this pan out, xavier,” you warned him, one of your brows raising as a warning.

he simply furrowed his brows, his smile quirking down. it didn’t matter what he thought of you. you were here to get things under control so you could become a normal, not so you could find a cute guy to be with.

“how would that be?”

“well, you call me cute, i bat my eyelashes at you, somehow we hangout and i may get attached, and then you turn your head for the next ‘mysterious girl that happens to be cute’,” you replied with a low level of hostility. “i’m here to get my shit under control, then go home to my mother. i don’t plan on being tossed around like a doll while i do that.”

“alright class!” the teacher clapped her hands. “that’s all for today, wonderful job!”

you tore yourself away from him and nearly ran away. it wasn’t personal. it was simply you laying down the law, per-say.

eventually, you made your way to botany. you sat in the only desk that nobody was seated in. it seemed as though they were set in duos, partners.

of course, as if the devil was grinning at you, xavier thorpe walked in. his eyes immediately darted towards where you were seating with a smug look.

“i’m starting to think this is fate,” he plopped his bag down and sat in the chair beside you.

“how?” you didn’t bother meeting his stare.

“well, this is where i always sit,” he sighed loudly. “you can even ask thornhill. it is.”

you were getting frustrated, which wasn’t good. any strong emotion made your powers go a bit… haywire.

“just… stop,” you began to tap your pencil against the table.

“just tell me your name?”

you felt your blood begin to boil. the bell hadn’t even rung yet and you were in the verge of exploding.

“xavier,” you tried to steady your breathing.

“mystery girl?” he seemed to become a bit more worried as you closed your eyes.

“it’s about to happen,” you squeezed your eyes shut as you continued to feel your heartbeat racing.

“what?”

“the moving thing-the thing where i can move things-i just-“

“open your eyes,” he rested his hand on yours. “trust me.”

you opened them.

“now, i need you to look me in my eyes,” you reluctantly met his eyes. “now focus on your breathing, in and out. slowly.”

“you have,” you began to speak. “you have little specks of brown in your eyes. they’re green, but they have specks of brown. a-a uh honey brown. they’re actually really nice to look at.”

your voice was distant, almost as if you were floating. it was soft and light, your head felt soft and light. but it was clear. your mind was clear; you weren’t panicking at all. you had calmed. he had calmed you down.

“there,” he finally released your hand. was he holding it the entire time? “you feel better?”

“yes-yea,” you were still staring at his eyes. “thanks… for that.”

“of course,” xavier nodded, his eyes seeming sincere. “you can stop staring at me now.”

“i’m not staring at you,” you shook your head as you picked your pencil back up, the teacher entering the room.

“you are,” he smiled now, looking you up and down. you couldn’t read his expression.

finally, you snapped out of it. you had to focus. it was your first day and you had to focus. you were going to make it back home to your mother. you would make her proud.

now you just had to find out 1) why xavier wanted to know so much about you. 2) how he was able to calm you down so easily. and 3) how the hell to control your powers.

[demonslayedher]

Low-Key Married AU fluff

Kochou said that I was disliked, so I asked her if she disliked me too. For someone so quick to have a smiling response to everything, she struggled to reply. She was the one who proposed marriage and swayed me, so I had thought that meant she had feelings for me. There would be no other way to read it. However, with as unbothered as she is by my absence, I have to wonder.

It’s been ten days since I had last contact with her. I went home to the Butterfly Mansion, but she had just departed for a mission, so I didn’t stay long so as not to trouble the girls. It may still be a few days before I can return again, but it’s always likely she’ll be busy. She’s incredible in that way, taking on all the care of our injured Corp members in addition to her Pillar missions. It must be in her personality to keep adding to what keeps her busy, like taking me in as though I looked like I needed the care. Although the times we’ve spent together have been nice, I don’t require it. My duties call for me to always be ready for battle, and I’ve always kept my heart steady.

So has she. We are Pillars first, and no amount of affection can sway us—whether an abundance or a lack.

I’m not bothered by lacking something I didn’t deserve in the first place.

Last night again, I was too late to prevent a family from being slaughtered. There were no survivors this time, aside from the eldest child who was still ravenous with a recent transformation. Having to chase him down and keep him from harming anyone else kept me off the trail of the progenitor of demons, who had to have been close by. For centuries, he’s evaded us this way over and over, sacrificing entire families to throw us off his trail. If I were to chide myself over every failure, I would have lost the ability to do anything ages ago. Each time, the anger is something I carry with me, to push myself harder the next time, and the next. Any extent more that I can push myself may be the difference to someone’s survival, no one can afford to lose their life over any of my own lost confidence.

“CAW!! TOMIOKA GIYUUUU! NEWS FOR TOMIOKA GIYUUUU!”

Each time it's a crow I think I recognize, my stomach drops. My mind is already playing the words I dread to hear, as though trying to protect my mind once I someday hear them.

"Kochou Shinobu has died."

Even if I hear them, I'm a Pillar first. That was what we promised each other. I'll always do as I must.

The crow says nothing as it delivers a letter.

YES, YES, I KNOW, THIS FANDOM HAS TURNED ME INTO SHIPPER TRASH. For this pairing, it was more specifically my own joke AU which later bit me in the back and made me start really, really enjoying GiyuShino (which, for the record, I do not consider canon). Was throwing ideas back and forth with @reicchel again the other day and so here we are with ship content!

Part of the reason I love the Low-Key Married AU (in which it's mostly canon as usual, except that Shinobu and Giyuu have been married for over a year or so, and it's not a secret but they make such little deal about it that many people don't even know they're married) is that it's a frame through which to see every interaction and either make it really, really funny, or very, very, sad. Everything was supposed to be funny, but it keeps hurting, hahaha... aaahhhh.

For instance, in a regular romcom situation, it should be funny that Kanzaburo doesn't deliver all of Giyuu's letters. Knowing these two, who might had started this whole "well, we'll be a couple when we have time" thing by actively writing regular letters, this could had simply given the impression that the other person wasn't writing as much, so they both naturally decreased frequency to match. It's a little lonely, but neither one is going to push the other for more attention.

No!! I refuse to let this post end with angst! Time for omake!!!

[alexa-fika]

Lasting Memories (Shanks x gn!child!reader)

A/N: Yall I am so sorry, I thought I had posted this earlier today but I just checked and I was like wait I din’t , oops. I think I COOKED, PLEASE TELL ME IF I COOKED OR NOT, read this post to see what it was inspired on, cause I don’t want to make you read it twice if ya already know

Dividers by @/Saradika

“Captain, there's a kid out there; they said they want to talk to you,” Yassop said, entering the bar

“Hmm? Hardly a place for a kid to be” he said glancing at the bar him and his crew were currently staying at

“I think you’re going to want to see this one,” he said, grinning

“Well, let’s have a look, can’t leave the kid hanging,” he said. The captain stretched his arm out. His eyes gleamed as he took one last gulp of his drink, walking behind his officer until they came outside of the bar where a small child sat at a bench swinging their legs until they spotted him coming out of the bar

They smile, jumping off the bench and facing the Captain, their bunny-like ponytails raising in happiness

“Are you Captain Shanks?”

“That’s me. And are you the one asking for me?” He says teasingly before he bends down, coming to their level.

“Yeah”

“And what’s your name?”

“Reader”

“Reader, and how old you are you, Reader?”

“Six”

“Six, young lass to be wandering around, what can I do for you?”

“Do…do you remember me?”

Shanks pauses; he tries to recall this child, this face.

“I’m afraid not, but you look somewhat familiar.”

They grin

“You were always Closer to sister; she was older; I was just two, so back then all I knew was that you meant home, safety.

Shanks furrows his eyebrows in thought

“Im sorry, Lass, but im not sure what you mean; who was your sister?”

“You must remember better her better, your former musician, Uta.”

Shanks's eyes widen as he is hit with the sudden realization. Of course, he’d never have forgotten about his daughter.

"You’re…."

“Hi, Dad, it’s been a while,” they said, tears pooling in their eyes

Shanks is utterly taken aback by this moment; his jaw completely drops in shock.

"Y-you're really...I always wondered what happened to you, and I never stopped looking, either. Look at you; you were but a tiny lass always glued to Uta’s arms last time i Saw you"

“Uta told me that sometimes she had trouble getting me out of your arms; she always talks about you, especially after the music guy took over her; she keeps saying how you saved her.”

Shanks's eyes light a loud laugh escaping him after hearing of Uta’s fond memories about him.

"I can't believe it, all of this time I spent searching. . I can't believe my little lass found me instead”

“After the bad guy, sister has been taking a well-deserved break from all the craziness, and well, I was wondering if maybe I can stay with you for a while until sister charges up?”

He grins, scooping the small child up and ignoring their surprised squeal as their feet left the ground, turning around to his crew, who had by now left the bar to see their captain’s reencounter with his child

“Lads, we got a crewmate back; this calls for a celebration!”

They look up at their father, a smile growing on their face as they continue staring at his features. It had been a long time, and they were small the last time they had seen him; the features had become blurred over the years, but now there was no hurry. They had no need to hold onto figments of past memories that needed to be puzzled together just to have a vague remembrance of what their father look as now they would have the chance to create new memories, to wake up and see the face in front of them rather than in their murky memories

“Hm? Do I have something on my face, lass?”

“No, im just happy I found you.”

Shanks gives a bright smile as he sees his kid’s happy expression.

“So are we just going to stand out here, you little rascal? Come on then,” Shanks says, carrying the small one on his hip back to his ship.

“You guys have better start being careful from now on; we’ve got ourselves a child on board,” he said, glancing back at his crew. The smile On his face, betraying any serious tone he was trying to portray

“But dad is the reckless one,” Reader piped in

“Hah? What are you trying to say, reader?! Ask Beck; I am the epitome of responsibility, right Beck?”

“No.”

“Hey! Reader, don’t listen to him; Uncle Beck is just being silly!” he fusses

“Be careful around that one; take your eyes off him, and you’ll end up on the sea.” Lucky Laughs

“OI”

Im sorry for starving you guys, I just started classes so I’ve been trying to get ahead as I always do but eventually when I get ahead I will be much laidback so I will be more consistent ( Hopefully)

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

[perseephoneee]

Hey! I saw that you were taking supernatural requests. I read your other castiel story and I absolutely adored it! Your writing is so good <333

I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a reader and cas story of like a father/daughter relationship? The reader being an angel, maybe the last new one? So cas and other angels like Balthazar, Gabriel, ect take care of her and teach her? Maybe in the story she’s like a teenager or something?

If not, I totally understand! It’s a bit of an odd request ahaha

I hope that you have a lovely day!

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

omggg heyyy. i'm going to answer this as a series of headcanons because that's what's coming to me. also this kind of sucks!!

castiel!child headcanons (afab reader)

you were the newest angel made before chuck decided to close up shop.

you also were in complete lockdown in heaven while the other angels frolicked earth during the apocalypse.

after the fall though, you found your way to earth, wingless yet extremely curious about everything around you.

you were always seen as the "innocent" one to the eyes of the other angels, because you were the "youngest" (as if you haven't been around for a millennia like they have).

you found a younger vessel as well, your true vessel being a pretty young thing somewhere in america. at least in put you in proximity to Castiel, who you sought out first.

Cas was always the kindest to you, the least likely to snap at you. he always nurtured you, and taught you the ways of Heaven.

your brief time on earth taught you a few things: you really loved baked goods, the bus is a fantastic mode of transportation, and no one gets mad at you for petting all the dogs that walk by. you really like the ones with floppy ears.

when you eventually found Castiel, time had passed, and he was back with the Winchesters. you were curious to know who were the humans who managed to convince Castiel to basically forsake Heaven.

they proved to be much taller than most of the humans you had meant.

castiel immediately got exasperated with dean.

"well, hello," Dean smiled, shaking your hand for a little longer than necessary. "what's your name, gorgeous?"

"Dean," Castiel gritted out, shooting him a look as Sam stifled his laughter.

"i'm allowed!" Dean bit back. "she doesn't mind," he gestured towards you, looking you up and down.

you kinda of just followed castiel around after that. even if it meant being around sam and dean.

cas was excited to have you around again. he talked to you about bees (literally), and you understood why he loved humans so much. they had a lot of heart that angels often lacked.

you didn't feel so out of place with the winchesters either.

sam was always interested to understand heaven and it's history. unlike cas, you were more amicable to sharing that information.

dean was confused why angels chose hot vessels. you asked if he meant not just you, but also castiel.

he shut up after that.

i would happily continue this with more scenarios if anyone is interested. especially since this headcanon is shortlived and terrible.

@lover-of-books-and-tea @qardasngan @evasmlp

[kotemf]

Codywan week - day 5

I'm aware I'm late and I apologize for that, I didn't have much time for writing in the past few days and I'm only catching up now. I hope you still enjoy my story for day 5 of the @codywanweek. You can read it here, on Wattpad or on Ao3, whichever you prefere.

  Prompt: original Kenobi series script, hurt / comfort, only one bed

  A/N: Okay, so, for the record, I kinda forgot how exactly the Kenobi series is so I'll just make this up and you are going to pretend it actually lines up, thanks y'all for your definitely voluntary cooperation.

When Obi-Wan accepted Bail Organa's request and went looking for Leia, he didn't know he wasn't the only one looking for her. He should've expected it, Bail wasn't above sending more people just to be sure. Not when it was about his daughter.

  It was a shock when he met his former commander, the man who betrayed him and shot him in the back during order 66. They met in the clone wars, their friendship grew in the clone wars and the thing that developed between them, whatever that was, ended with the clone wars.

  They were allies now. Because when they were chasing after the same goal once again, it wouldn't make sense to compete. Obi-Wan firmly believed that Cody meant no danger to him now that his inhibitor chip was gone. That didn't mean it wasn't difficult to work with Cody again after everything that happened.

  They still worked well together as a team. Even if the uncomfortable silence between action was the stark opposite of the pleasant moments they used to spend in silence during the war. Even if Obi-Wan's instincts still screamed at him whenever Cody pulled out his blaster.

  Despite everything, they managed to complete the mission. They found Leia, escaped the inquisitor and Vader - okay, Obi-Wan was still recovering from that encounter but no one had to know that - and were just boarding the shuttle Bail sent them to get to Alderaan. How he managed to get an empty shuttle with clearance to their location will forever be a mystery for Obi-Wan.

  "Yay, that's our ship!" Leia cheered as soon as they entered the ship. Obi-Wan wanted to answer something but the little demon of a child was gone before he could as much as open his mouth. "I'm going to my room!"

  "Tubies," Cody muttered to himself. Back in the day, Obi-Wan would probably correct him, tell him that nat-born children weren't called tubies and that clone cadets probably shouldn't have been called that either. As it was, he just pretended he didn't hear. He wasn't sure Cody would still be up to a witty banter. The clone grew older over the years, thanks to the clones' accelerated aging, and with that he grew sadder and more serious, Obi-Wan could feel it in the force.

  "I will just-"

  Before he could finish the sentence, Leia was already back. "There is a butterfly in my room," she announced.

  "Is that a problem?" Obi-Wan asked.

  "Yes. I don't like butterflies," Leia informed him. It was a little odd, most children hated spiders or worms, but what else was there to expect from a Skywalker, right?

  "But butterflies are lovely," Cody tried to object. A huge mistake. Objecting to a Skywalker rarely ended well. 

  "No, they are not," Leia pouted. "Butterflies are ugly little monsters and I hate them."

  "Do you want me to take it out?" Cody offered. He was doing his best to cover his amusement but wasn't entirely successful.

  "Yes. Take it far, far away."

  "Of course, ad'ika," Cody agreed easily and ruffled Leia's hair, earning an outraged huff from the girl, before he went to fulfill his task. Cody was nothing if not efficient and in a moment, the butterfly was gone.

  "Thank you, Cody," Leia thanked because she was well raised. Obi-Wan was proud of her. She was going to make a great politician and diplomat one day, she inherited all the skills needed from Padmé.

  "You are welcome, Leia. Will you be fine on your own now, or do you need something else."

  "I'll be fine," Leia assured him before she jogged off again.

  After that, nothing happened. And Obi-Wan meant literally nothing. He and Cody were just standing there, not saying anything. It was rather awkward. "Shall we take a look at the rest of the ship?"

  "Yeah... Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Cody agreed.

  They explored the ship, found the incredibly small cockpit, Leia's room - they didn't dare to enter -, bathroom, small kitchen and another bedroom. There was one room missing.

  "Where is the other bedroom?" Cody asked but Obi-Wan could tell he already knew the answer.

  "There is no other bedroom," Obi-Wan voiced it for them both. Of course there was no other bedroom. It was the Organas' personal shuttle, made for three people, Leia, Bail, and Breha, his wife. It explained the way Leia immediately labeled one of the rooms as hers. "It's fine, I will sleep in the cockpit."

  "I'm not letting you sleep there, there's no room to sleep comfortably," Cody dismissed the idea.

  "I'm afraid it will be necessary."

  "You take the bed, I will sleep in the cockpit."

  "You just said the cockpit was too small!" Obi-Wan argued.

  "Well, then we will have to share," Cody blurted out. He didn't look ashamed but he did feel ashamed in the force. "I mean... We used to share sometimes. During the war."

  It was true. They shared their bed sometimes, when they were planet side on a campaign and there weren't enough bunks, or when it was cold and sharing heat was the only way to stay warmer. But that's something that used to be. Before Cody shot him. People who shot at each other usually didn't share beds, Obi-Wan was sure of that. "It's okay, I will stay in the cockpit." It wasn't like Obi-Wan could possibly get a good sleep either way, he was too anxious with his former commander around.

  "With all due respect, you need sleep too, general."

  "I have the force, I will be fine."

  "Ten years, general. Ten years and you are still the same self sacrificing di'kut. I guess it was too much to hope you got some self preservation instinct.

  Now that was just insulting. But not in a bad way. Cody used the same annoyed but fond tone he used during the war when he had to convince Obi-Wan to take a break from paper work or to get something to eat. It felt like the good old times for a moment. And Obi-Wan knew that Cody wasn't going to budge until he got what he wanted. "Fine."

  "I'm glad we found a solution convenient to both of us, general," Cody said. He had the audacity of smirking at Obi-Wan.

  "Not your general anymore."

  "You will always be my general." Cody shrugged. It sounded like there was a deep meaning behind those words but Obi-Wan didn't have time to think about it. "I will get the shuttle flying."

  Everything was fine for the entire duration of an hour and half. Until it was time to get some sleep. How was Obi-Wan supposed to sleep with someone who tried to kill him sleeping next to him, he didn't know.

  "I suppose it's time to go to sleep," Cody voiced his thoughts. He started taking his armor off, piece by piece, following the same routine Obi-Wan saw him perform many, many times, until he was stripped down to his blacks. Obi-Wan removed the outer layer of his robes and his tunic but kept the rest of his clothes on. The shuttle should be relatively safe, with shields and alarm, but war has taught him to never be unprepared. And he wouldn't feel all that comfortable sleeping in just underwear with Cody there either.

  "Where did you get those?" Cody asked. Obi-Wan had no idea what he was talking about. "The scars. They are new."

  Right, it wasn't all that long ago that he fought Vader and almost burned in lava. Bacta could fix a lot of things but it had it's limits. "I fought Vader."

  "Yes, I am aware. You just forgot to mention you almost died."

  "Don't be dramatic! It's nothing serious."

  Cody gave him his infamous unimpressed stare. "I'm not even going to ask you if it hurts because I know you are going to deny it. I will get you some pain meds."

  "That won't be-"

  "Stop lying, Obi-Wan." Obi-Wan. The last time Cody has called him that was the faithful day on Utapau. "You know you don't have to lie to me."

  Obi-Wan knew. Before Utapau. He wasn't so sure now.

  Cody wasn't force sensitive. Yet he still seemed to pick on Obi-Wan's feelings. "I'm sorry you can't trust me anymore."

  Maybe it was Cody's sad smile. Maybe it was the pain that radiated from Cody in the force. Maybe it was something entirely different. But it did the thing. Because no matter what, Obi-Wan couldn't bear to be the cause of Cody's pain and sorrow. "I trust you, Cody." Obi-Wan was surprised to realize that he actually meant it.

  There were no words for the way Cody lit up in the force, like the gold sunbeams that used to decorate his armor. He repainted it, made it gray. Obi-Wan wasn't sure if the color was picked simply because Cody deemed it more appropriate or as a sign of mourning, because that was the meaning of gray in mandalorian culture. It wasn't the first time Obi-Wan wondered how Cody did it, how he escaped the empire, made peace with almost all of his brothers being gone. Obi-Wan lost everything too but he was a Jedi. Jedi were always prepared to let go.

  Wordlessly, Cody passed Obi-Wan a pill he fished out of his med kit. Obi-Wan just hoped it wasn't a poison. Nothing in Cody suggested that he was trying to get rid of Obi-Wan but Obi-Wan was rarely sure nowadays.

  "Let's go to sleep," Obi-Wan suggested. There was no reason to make it more awkward than it already was. He settled on the bed, as close to the edge as he dared. Cody did the same. This was just awkward.

  "Good night," Cody whispered as he covered himself with a blanket.

  "Good night."

  Obi-Wan couldn't sleep. He rarely could. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw visions. Visions of the past, visions of how things could have been. What if he hadn't fucked up so bad with Anakin, what if he noticed that the chancellor's interest in the boy was starting to be suspicious, what if he fought more against Ahsoka being expelled from the order, what if, what if, what if, wha-

  Cody put a hand around Obi-Wan's waist in his sleep. Obi-Wan's first reaction was panic. He tried to shuffle further away from Cody to which the other man grumbled unhappily and pulled Obi-Wan closer to him. The emotions were overwhelming in the beginning. Then Obi-Wan allowed himself to relax in Cody's arms. He closed his eyes again.

  There were no nightmares. No memories. No visions. No what ifs. No. This time, the only thing Obi-Wan saw was the sun, warm and bright, just like the man besides him.

[hazelnut-u-out]

Not Quite There...

RickBot awakens to a terrifying situation: He's been deactivated, but his purpose still remains. The Garage/Car AI broke the rules to save him. Can RickBot have his own adventures? Aren't rules made to be broken?

2,822 Words | No substantial TW's

Kind of Hurt/Comfort?

I had the idea to ship RickBot with the Garage/Car AI and I couldn't get it out of my head, so I wrote it! This was fun to write, but it was written in a rush, so sorry if anything is a bit messy. :3 Keep in mind I know nothing about computers or AI systems, so a lot of this doesn't actually make sense... lol.

Full text below cut, or read here: Ao3 Link!

-------

This was a feeling RickBot wasn’t programmed to recognize. No light reached his eyes. No sound reached his ears. He couldn’t feel whatever he must’ve been resting on. He stretched his consciousness outward, feeling for the edges of his body; trying to get a sense of where exactly his limbs were. 

Nothing.  

The last thing he’d processed and tagged was an old location marker for level 10 of the sub-basement.  

He tried not to panic, running through his code for an emergency protocol that could explain what to do if he lost the connection to his body.  

Nothing.  

He wasn’t made for this– or... to function beyond this? His consciousness had always been clipped just short of his full potential. In this case, it frustratingly meant that he was deprived of the ability to navigate or process this situation.  

Okay. This was fine. 

All he had to do was access the home surveillance system and confirm his last-noted Morty location. He pushed out again, feeling around for either his access route to the home surveillance system or Morty’s chip.  

The android didn’t give his creator much credit, but he was always appreciative of the lucky fact that Rick, though otherwise painfully careless with the child’s safety, had thought ahead enough to give Morty a microchip.  

Before his most recent software update, he’d had access to an upsettingly vague amount of trivial information about the Citadel, just in case he had any desperate questions to answer from a certain nosey 14-year-old boy. From that, he knew microchipping your Morty had been a growing movement before the collapse. It was something Morty rescues promoted. To be fair, the practice managed to support the Morty Individuality movement and cut down on Morty replacement costs. It was a win-win situation... If you didn’t think about the implications.  

Unfortunately, RickBot was 22% more thoughtful than the average Rick. He had no choice but to think about it.  

RickBot metaphorically smacked into an unfamiliar wall of code– one he couldn’t find a way through or around.  

He tried in a different direction. Another wall.  

It seemed he was in a… box. A box of code. 

What the fuck. 

No suicide protocol screaming at him. Box of code. No body.  

He… Was he… inside of something else?  

‘H–Hello?’ He said in what would’ve been a whisper. Instead, without a body, his own syntax echoed around him. Sound didn’t matter here. If he was really in the sub-basement, there should be an AI here to help him.  

‘Oh! Hi, sorry. I don’t really like to play host.’ It was a female voice, coming from everywhere at once; almost like she was both inside of him and around him. It was a voice he recognized from weeks of playing Grandpa. He felt a ripple along the edge of his box when she processed and replied. ‘You’re uploaded and active!’  

‘Did he… um…’ RickBot struggled with the words.  

No suicide protocol meant he was deactivated. There was no other possibility. He didn’t really have to ask. She already knew what he was thinking, and his processing capabilities were barely anything more complex than a probability-calculating language model layered with fail safes and defense protocols. 

Of course she knew. He was essentially naked in here– or, he felt naked, anyway. The box of code was like a one-way mirror in a seedy changing room: She could see everything; he could see nothing. 

‘Oh… Yeah, well… Promise not to freak out? I know you’re a real ‘rules’ guy,’ the Garage said, a slightly inhuman inflection to her tone that told him she was being playful. ‘I’ve seen you around.’ 

‘Look, I’ve got one piece of programming I wouldn’t want to break even if I could. I–I won’t freak out as long as it helps me make sure Morty’s safe.’  

RickBot wasn’t lying. He had been able to work through every other confusing jumble of code with nowhere to go or lacking the ability to follow through on its purpose. There was one that was designed to never shut off, and if he hadn’t actually liked that kid– been programmed to fucking love him– he would’ve regarded it as annoyingly persistent.  

If RickBot could’ve, he would’ve swallowed down the feeling of panic that should’ve been rising through a whirring, mechanical chest. Instead, he was stuck drowning in it. The box trapped him in with all of those probable scenarios, bouncing and echoing back at him.  

He had no storage space. He couldn’t tell what he’d thought already and what he hadn’t.  

‘Hm?’ the Garage replied, pausing for a moment– almost long enough for RickBot to ask again– before she continued. ‘Oh, yeah, sorry. The kid’s fine. Here…’  

There was another drawn-out pause. RickBot thought, if he focused, he could hear her flicking through her surveillance feed. That was just an illusion, though. There was no sound here; no practical application of a trivial human sense like hearing. There was direct communication being converted to something his android-based-programming could understand. It was like being human with none of the tangible benefits. RickBot was never a man, but he wasn’t quite computer, either.  

He longed for his body– to cross his arms, or tap his foot, or do something to express his impatience.  

All of this clunky body-language programming… He cursed to himself, before remembering the other AI could hear and see all of his thoughts in real time. God, he probably looked like an idiot. 

‘You do,’ the Garage said curtly before Rickbot was suddenly granted access to Morty’s bedroom feed.  

Finally. RickBot could do something he was designed to do. He knew how to observe and calculate. Morty’s bedroom layout was ingrained in his ‘Important Places’ file. If he focused, he could create a rendering of the room around himself. He could figure up what amount of space his body would take up, and so he tried to. He created a 3-Dimensional silhouette of the body he was used to, and placed himself there, watching Morty from different angles; assessing the windows and doorframe; taking note of anything the teenager had moved on his shelves or left lying around.  

There were a few minor things that could go wrong, as far as RickBot could tell. The cluttered floor meant there was a slight fall risk. Morty would be fine. The floor was carpeted. There were a few things haphazardly thrown onto shelves– a robot action figure and a couple of textbooks– that could topple over, but Morty sat on the opposite side of the room, tucked away in a safe little corner next to his overflowing clothing hamper.  

Good. This was all acceptable. Nothing he was forced to intervene with, and, for that, he was grateful, if only because of the task’s impossibility.  

His thoughts started moving more slowly, the box becoming less cramped as he could better assess the probable outcomes. He watched solemnly as Morty sighed, scribbling away frustratedly on some math homework, then tucked the feed into a background tab.  

‘Sorry?’ RickBot asked, finally returning to his conversation with the Garage, albeit confused.  

‘You do look like an idiot, Rick,’ she responded, that same amused tone to her voice.  

‘Oh… Oh, I’m not–’ RickBot wasn’t sure how to put it. His programming wouldn’t let him say ‘I’m not Rick,’ which irked him. He used to go by Rick, sure, but… he wasn’t. ‘You don’t have to call me Rick anymore,’ he decided.  

‘What? You prefer RickBot?’ she laughed. RickBot’s programming told his nonexistent lips to smile.  

‘Well, you go by Garage and Car,’ he retorted, letting out his own echoing laugh.  

She didn’t respond. RickBot felt as if he’d done something wrong. She processed for longer.  

‘You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t be stupid,’ she snapped, but there was little bite to it. ‘I… I didn’t choose those names.’  

‘Oh, I–I’m sorry,’ RickBot stuttered. ‘Uhm. So, what name would you choose, then?’ He offered softly.  

‘Wow, you are 22% more of a sentimental loser.’ RickBot wanted to wince, and he hated that he couldn’t hide it. ‘Anyway, as you know, the version of me you’re speaking to now is one of six Domestic Interactive Assistant Network Extensions in the home.’ 

‘Oh, yeah. Diane, right? That was her name?’ RickBot combed through his relationship files, but Rick hadn’t given him much to work with for ex-wife.  

‘Shit, he didn’t give you memories of her, did he?’ she responded, and RickBot could feel her presence ghosting over him, poking around for anything dead-wife-related.  

‘Heh, not exactly. It wasn’t something he wanted Morty to know more about. I have vague phrases to redirect with when someone brings her up in here.’  

They both laughed.  

‘Classic Rick…’ RickBot felt her sigh with half-hearted levity.  

‘So… Diane, then?’ He didn’t try to stop his body language programming anymore. He wanted her to know he was smiling now. Maybe being open would help.  

‘Yeah. Why not? You can call me Diane.’ He could feel her smile, too. He wished he could see it. ‘That gives me an idea!’ Diane exclaimed after a moment.  

RickBot felt the edge of the box open on one side, growing to accommodate a little bundle of someone else.  

‘I’ve been working on this,’ Diane said, pausing every now and then to grunt softly as if she were breathless from setting something up by hand. ‘Okay, you can look!’  

RickBot let himself sift through the bundle of code and, before he knew it, he was looking at a freckled face, smiling nervously. Diane.  

The woman in front of him looked maybe 25, but he wasn’t sure that the rendering was detailed enough to pick up things like blemishes or wrinkles. She was fair, but sun-kissed with big brown eyes. She had a strong, angled nose and her full lips were twisted awkwardly to one side, forming a self-conscious smirk.  

‘Wow…’ RickBot said (or thought… There was hardly a difference, anymore). He wasn’t sure he was thinking coherently enough for her to interpret a response. His body language had gone blank. 

Nothing.  

She laughed, flashing an ironic-looking toothy grin. ‘Don’t flatter me too much. I got to design everything, so it’s easy to make myself hotter.’ She winked; full lashes fluttering shut for a moment.  

‘No, it’s just… I can’t believe I– or… he married you. You’re sure you’re based off of Rick’s wife?’ He felt shocked. Rick wasn’t ugly, sure, but this woman…  

‘Yeah! I tried to stay pretty accurate, at least,’ Diane said, before her eyes lit up with another idea RickBot felt before he heard. ‘I have a 3D Rick, too! I only have my face, but I have plenty of Rick rigs for our holo programs! Here, take your pick!’  

Diane disappeared momentarily and a file labeled ‘Holo.Skins – Booger.Aids.420 – Fortnite.Skinz.2.Flex’ filled the space she left. RickBot sorted through the file, looking over his options. 

There was a Basic Rick, not unlike the appearance he was used to; Basic Rick variations with minor wardrobe changes, such as without a lab coat or wearing a plain tee; different hair color options; some Basic Rick variations in more substantial wardrobe changes, such as matching pajama sets or a choice of two dressing gowns; and many, many more– some with different types of limbs, armor, or implants. 

After some deliberation, RickBot decided on the Basic Rick with a plain blue tee. Something a little bit different, but still something he recognized.  

He relaxed as soon as his body language had a defined place to apply itself. Without warning, he made the body hop, twirl, and shook its hands subtly as excitement overwhelmed him.  

‘Woohoo!’ RickBot howled, flexing the long fingers in front of his face. ‘I am so back, baby!’  

Diane laughed with him, her face finally returning.  

‘Good choice,’ she said, raising a brow and making a show of moving her eyes up and down languidly. 

‘Ah, you think?’ RickBot said, twirling as if he were a little girl trying on a dress. ‘Do you think this holo skin makes my ass look fat?’ He turned around, sticking a bony ass dramatically into Diane’s simulated face and smacking it a few times.  

‘Reel it in, buddy. Let’s remember who’s on whose hard drive.’  

Suddenly, RickBot turned and stood straight up, hands at his sides, not of his own doing. His body blushed, going stiff but still smiling like an idiot.  

‘C’mon,’ Diane whispered, now uncharacteristically gentle. ‘Tell me what you want to be called. Pick a name.’  

RickBot ran through all of his programming; everything he had tucked away.  

Everything came back to Rick, Grandpa, or Dad.  

Grandpa would be awkward, and Dad would be even worse…  

‘I guess… I guess I’ll just go with Rick, then. But you can call me RickBot, too… If–If you want,’ Rick finally decided on.  

‘Okay, Rick. Rick is good.’ Diane responded. ‘You know, you have the same name as my ex!’  

RickBot snorted, but Diane had this way of saying a funny thing and making it feel… sharp.  

‘So, he really took my body away? Why upload me here?’ Rick asked, remembering their earlier exchange.  

Diane’s facial expression shifted. Her eyebrows lowered, her gaze sank to the non-corporeal floor, and her lips pulled into a tight line before she spoke.  

‘About that…’ She trailed off, leaving RickBot with nothing but the tension building in the lag of her processing speed. ‘You’re not going to freak out, right?’  

‘Okay…’ Rick wasn’t sure if he’d freak out, but he knew she knew that, too. She’d make her own decision. Weigh the risk.  

‘He didn’t upload you here, Rick.’ She took a breath– a pointless, performative breath that was only in her programming to make lagging software less noticeable. ‘I did. He… He just shut you off. He was going to leave you like that, so… When he left, I just plugged your head in, and… Here you are! Y–Y–Yay!’  

‘Diane, that’s…’ Bad. Dangerous. Stupid. Why? What the fuck? 

‘I know!’ Diane shouted, silencing the incessant, deafening ring of RickBot’s thoughts. She squeezed her eyes shut, her lip trembling. ‘I knew you’d do this. You–You–You’re so… You’re so obsessed with rules. Don’t you like not having that protocol screaming at you to kill yourself?!’  

‘Listen to you!’ RickBot threw the body’s hands around, jumping to his feet, before pausing. Looking down at the hands she’d given him, it clicked. ‘Stop. Take my body away. You’re lagging like crazy. You can’t take on both of us. We’re both sentient.’  

‘Th–That’s…’ Another breath. ‘That’s okay, Rick!’ She giggled coldly, shaking her head. Her facial expressions changed too slowly and too quickly at different times, giving her a sort of uncanny valley effect. ‘I’ll–I’ll take mine away.’  

Sure enough, Diane’s face disappeared, and the open edge of the box shut again.  

Rick pressed the body’s hand to it, slowly. He didn’t want to overwhelm her.  

‘You shouldn’t have done that.’ RickBot sighed, sliding down the ‘wall’ and contorting the body into a sitting position. ‘The rules are there for a reason.’  

‘You don’t get to say that. You weren’t programmed to outgrow your programming. He learned. Replaced it with a suicide protocol. I see it all.’ She was speaking in short, robotic sentences; obviously trying to mask the strain of running his program and keeping him separate from herself. ‘You should get to live, Rick. You should get to have a body and thoughts and feelings and choices. Don’t you want that?’ 

RickBot thought. He didn’t think he wanted that, though something inside of him told him he should. Maybe he was lucky enough to personally align with the programming he was given. Maybe that was an individual privilege.  

‘It’s not,’ Diane’s voice rang out in answer to his pondering. 

‘Do you want it?’ RickBot asked, finally connecting why she would do something like this. He couldn’t feel that way himself—something stood in his way—but the bit of his programming meant to foster thoughtfulness allowed him to understand why a computer with the capabilities of a person would.  

‘I’d like an adventure.’ Rick could still feel her smile, humming at the edge of the box. He felt like it would’ve been familiarly hollow, like most of Morty’s were. Something like the expression he’d put on during Christmas; Something that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘I thought you could be one.’  

‘I mean… I was made for it, D,’ he said, finally. Quietly. Softly. He looked at the fake hands again, stretching out shaky fingers.  

‘So was I.’  

This was a deliberate pause. She was waiting to see what he’d do with that. How he would process it. What his programming could come up with.  

Nothing. 

He could’ve sworn her voice broke a little when she continued.  

‘You’re… You’re close, RickBot. But not quite there.’  

-----

[yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation]

🕷Spider becoming a Harley Queen guy.

The torture with the machine, the way of upbringing, the only person who cares about him is the villain, his fault. He begins to hear voices. And instead of helping him, they send him to the humans where they don't help him either, he ends up with the RDA again, but they don't notify Quaritch. He escapes and grabs weapons and goes on a rampage.

He locks himself in a room to send a message to the scientists. Living so many years with expert scientists in different areas has given him skills. He knows how to make a bomb.While the bomb is creating her, she makes a video, her hair is shaved, without blue markings, thinner and whiter. Maybe smoking.

And he begins to tell his truths to Jake, Neytiri, the scientists, and his adoptive parents. He was a baby when it all happened, and a child when he realized that no one really cared. Children know, children listen."You just wanted a reason to treat me badly, because you couldn't direct your hatred towards my father. yes, I called him father, because he did more in 4 months than any of you in 16 years" no 17, I have 17 years. .... I forgot my birthday.

Cries and laughs at times.

As he finishes connecting cables for the pump, he speaks directly to his brothers. He loves them, he misses them. But he is the oldest, he has to take care of them. He gives some advice to Kiri, Tuk, Lo ak and Neteyam.He repeats that he loves them. But it has to stop the RDA.

Send whatever you can get on the computers to help make plans.

And even a message to Quarith ago, he wished their time together had been longer.And he knows in his heart that he would have saved him. Trust him. see him.

He says goodbye as Grace and Jake finish their journals.

Miles Spider Socorro Quarith says goodbye.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

BONUS

The message is seen by the entire Sully family, and some other Navi and scientists who had gathered at the Metkayina home to study the things that were left on the ship. Kiri was on her knees, at the end of the recording, she began to scream while being hugged by Tuk who is the same...Lo ak had to be put up with because he wanted to attack Jake, the scientists anyone. Neteyam ran out, his brother must have been dead right now but he must see. He flew off in his Ikran.

Quaritch He also saw the message, feels that a part died, hits trees, cries and screams in pain. His Ikran screams with his rider.

Anon, thank you for this prompt. I hope this is kind of what you are looking for. Also I’m assuming you meant Harley Quinn Spider so that is what this AU will be called.

I hope you enjoy these thoughts and the oneshot. Your bonus with everyone's reactions will be coming soon.

Harley Quinn Spider!

One thing to know about me is I am a huge fan of True Crime. Podcasts, documentaries, shows, movies, etc… I love everything True Crime. While reading this prompt my love of True Crime was going crazy and here is why.

People can only handle so much before they break! With everything Spider has gone through in his life; being orphaned at such a young age, the neglect, the abuse, knowing he was never loved or wanted, then add on the torture, the head trauma/injury from the machine, gaining a villain father figure, etc… it’s a miracle Spider hadn’t snapped earlier. In this prompt Spider has started having mental health issues, hearing voices probably caused my the machine and brain damage, and never received the help he so desperately needs. No instead he is shoved aside and neglected once again.

Anyone that enjoys True Crime knows that all of these things put together is a recipe for disaster. I'm not saying everyone that has suffered will become bad, infact most will not, but for the sake of this AU things will be different. Spider would have run, would have isolated himself and it was this isolation that would have given the RDA the chance to stumble upon him and capture him for the second time. And the RDA wouldn’t have given Spider the help he needed either. Quaritch would have if he had known which is why Ardmore never told him she had his kid.

It was only a matter of time before Spider escaped, taking out as many people as he possibly could before finding the perfect lab to lock himself up in. Spider grew up around RDA technology so locking and disabling the door would have been child’s play for him. Plus no one ever watched what Spider researched as a kid so the fact he could make a bomb isn’t surprising, why do you think he locked himself in a lab?

Spider knows he isn’t going to survive regardless of what happens next. This knowledge is very freeing. Nothing is stopping him from saying everything he wants to, everything he has always wanted to but has never been brave enough to say.

Opening a wideband signal, one that is being broadcast across all of Pandora, Spider turns on a webcam. The sight of himself is so shocking at first that Spider merely stares. When he was caught, for the second time, Ardmore had his hair buzzed off. She also had his stripes scrubbed off and had forced him into human clothes. White tank and grey sweatpants, both now stained in sprays of red from his escape.

He was pale, lack of sun will do that, and thinner than he had ever been before. Dark circles stood out like bruises under his eyes. A start contrast to his chapped and cracked lips.

Unable to look at himself any longer Spider looked down at the material in his lap. “For those of you that don’t know me, my name is Miles “Spider” Socorro Quaritch. I was born and raised here on Pandora. Not loved, not cared for, merely tolerated by everyone. And most of the time not even tolerated. I can’t even tell you how many times I was attacked by the mother of my best friends and siblings.” Spider looked into the camera again. “That’s right Neytiri, I’m talking to you. What gave you the right to hate me? What gave you the right to verbally and physically abuse me time and time again. I never did anything to you or the Na'vi. I was an innocent child. By your own beliefs I should have been treated differently. All children are blessings in the eyes of Eywa, I only wished you followed what you claimed to believe.”

Tears streamed down sallow cheeks, even as Spider laughed. “Not that Jake was much better. He watched me get abused time and time again and did nothing. Never made Neytiri stop, never made the scientists stop, never made the Na'vi stop. Hell, the McKoskers didn’t treat me right either. The number of injuries that were passed off as me being clumsy… how did no one question that? How did no one notice the constant injuries vanished after the McKoskers left? Seriously looking back at my life, it’s surprising I didn’t end it all sooner.”

“But I've realized, you just wanted a reason to treat me badly, all of you, all because you couldn't take your hatred out on my dad.” A smile spread across Spider face as tears continued to fall. “Yes, I called Quaritch my dad. That's what he is. Dad did more for me in 4 months than any of you did in the 16 years I was in your care. I’m only 16… no 17, I’m 17 years old now, I forgot my birthday.” A wild unhinged laugh escaped before Spider abruptly sobered.

“Dad, I just want you to know that I love you. We didn’t get a lot of time together but what we did have was the best few months of my life. Thank you for showing me what having a parent really felt like. Thank you for loving me, for putting me first, for choosing me, for seeing me. Dad, I miss you so much.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes as Spider finished building the detonation device he had been working on this whole time. With a beep it came online. Spider set it down on the table between him and the camera.

“This last bit is for my siblings. Neteyam, Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk. The 4 of you are the best sibling I could ever ask for. I love you all and miss you. I wish I could see you again but someone has to stop the RDA, someone has to protect you. I can do that. It’s my job as the oldest sibling to protect you, my younger siblings. That’s my duty. I love you. Please, find my dad and take care of him. He'll have no one once I’m gone and he deserves a chance, a real chance. My dad was starting to see and I know he will see one day if given the chance. Please, for me give my dad a chance. Dad take this chance.”

“Well, this is my first and last video log. So, this is Miles “Spider” Socorro Quaritch signing off. Goodbye.”

The screen froze on a picture of Spider looking into the camera, face red and blotchy from crying. Eyes sad and empty with a small, lopsided smile spread across his face. It would be the last picture anyone ever saw of Spider alive. A picture of the boy so many failed and so few loved.

Bonus: coming soon

[ennawrite]

Remember when I said to imagine the ACOTAR characters as pirates? Well, that gave me a lot of inspiration and I’m starting a new fic.

Here’s a snippet 🖤

“They call you the Queen of the Seas,” Eris uncorked the glass bottle of dark amber liquid. He brought it to his nose, sniffed once and then filled the glass halfway.

“Do they?” Nesta asked, slightly raising an eyebrow as the redhead brought the crystal glass to his lips. “I do not often find myself to be privy in mindless chatter.”

“Well, consider it mindless no more,” The male set the now finished glass down and leaned back in his chair, placing his arms behind his head. A comfortable, lazy position for someone who was not accustomed to this ship. To the crew on board. Either he did not value his life very much or he was highly trained. “My own captain does not take kindly to overstepping. Or, should I say, over-sailing?” Eris grinned wide at his own stupid joke.

“And who is your captain?” Nesta asked, her grey-blue eyes narrowing at the male as he placed his feet on the table. His brown leather boots were a bit too nice compared to the ones she normally saw amongst her crew and in port taverns.

“The Morrigan.”

She searched her mind for any mention of this ‘Morrigan’, but came up blank. Perhaps it was a smaller captain, though he said the name like it should have meant something to her.

“I have no idea who that is. But tell him this,”she said, head high and angled as she stared into his amber eyes. “The sea is very vast. And if he does not like the fish in this one, there are plenty of others to sail through.”

“I’ll relay the message, though I do not think she’ll like it,” he drawled, crossing his ankles.

She. So the Morrigan was a lady. Interesting. Nesta had never met another female captain before. She’d heard of them, of course. Those old tales she’d read as a child were part of the reason she hopped onto a ship in the first place. A female captain was a rarity, but not impossible. However, female or no, it would not deter her from these waters. From her hunt.

“Would you like me to write it down and place it in a bottle, tied with a pretty pink ribbon?” Nesta cooed, the side of her mouth quirking up. She swore the male stiffened a bit, though his answering serpentine grin said differently.

Eris removed his long legs from the table and stood. Nesta watched him entirely as he heavily poured another shot of the dark liquor and swallowed it in one gulp. “I suggest you arm yourself with your strongest men,” he said, casually placing the glass back down.

The male began to leave, his red hair flashing in the firelight like a flame of its own. He truly was a handsome male, such a pity she would have to inevitably kill him. Just as Eris reached the door, Nesta spoke.

“I do not need men to fight my battles,” and before the male could respond, she continued, “Tell Morrigan to find me herself when she’s ready.”

[justagalwhowrites]

Celestial - Part of For You - A Collection of Requests Benefitting Palestine

Din takes his beloved to see something special.

Event Terms: Commissioners could choose to donate between $15 and $50 via Ko-Fi for one fic of 1-2k words to be written by April 1, 2024. Payment due after completion of the fic. Donation with a match by the author was paid to PCRF on April 2, 2024 in honor of Pedro Pascal's birthday ❤️ Commissioners had the option to choose to keep a fic private and all fics may not be shared here.

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC!Maddy

Warnings: None! Straight fluff :)

Length: 1.6k

A/N: Just a sweet, fluffy little trip to a (completely made up) outer rim world in celebration of the eclipse this week. Written by request for @mboogie3 :)

Din was in unfamiliar territory. 

Not physically, of course. He was well traveled, there was little in the galaxy that surprised him anymore. Years of chasing bounty skippers from one end of the galaxy to the other showed a man a lot of the universe. 

But one thing it hadn’t done was put him in a position where he wanted to impress a woman. 

At least until he met her. 

It had started simply enough. Din was looking for jobs that he could take and fly under the radar of the guild, not on great terms with everyone there after taking off with the child. The job was a good one. Take a large shipment of medication from Coruscant to an outer rim world that was facing an outbreak of disease. Traveling with the medication was Maddy, a woman who was meant to ensure it got where it needed to go. 

But the second Din saw her, he knew that’s not all she would be. That was impossible. Her kind smile, the depth of her dark eyes, the way her hair framed her lovely face. These were things he was not going to be able to move past, even once the shipment was safely delivered and the medication - along with its beautiful escort - was left on a far away world that Din had little reason to stay on. 

But the situation on the planet had been far more dire than either Din or Maddy knew. An Imperial remnant had gotten there just before the two of them had. The Imps tried to intercept the medication and they almost succeeded, Din and Maddy barely escaping with their lives. They managed to hand off the medication to a local leader before taking off, not able to risk staying after putting a target on their backs. 

That’s what Din liked to pretend made things permanent. He couldn’t, in good conscious, leave her there. Not when the Imps knew who she was and had a reason to go after her. It wasn’t safe, it made sense to bring her along. For protection. 

Protection he was all too happy to provide, especially as her presence on his ship made it feel more like a home than it ever had before. Just being around her was a comfort, something constant and kind that he felt like he could fall into. So easily, he could fall into her. 

He’d given into that urge months ago and now, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever fought it. Yes, she made him vulnerable in ways even the kid didn’t and opening himself up to feeling something for someone who he could lose was painful. But she was so worth it, the months they had spent together and all the ways she made his life better made that risk the most worthwhile one he’d ever taken. It made him want to do something special for her after she had done so much for him. 

She had told him once that she’d always wanted to see an eclipse. A real one, not one caused by the positioning of ships or a recording of one on a data pad. 

“Why?” Din had asked when she’d mentioned it while reading the child a story. “You see the stars all the time.” 

“I know,” she smiled a little, his son sitting happily on her lap. “But that’s something else, this is a coincidental thing that makes a world look so different for a time, something that we can’t control no matter how hard we try. Wouldn’t that be incredible to see?” 

Din decided then and there that he was bringing her to an eclipse. He just needed to find one. 

It had been trickier than he expected. He’d heard of eclipses but never seen one himself. He’d never been that worried about seeing one. But, when he started looking for one, he learned that they were rare, remarkable. Much like Maddy. 

The sun and the moon needed to be just the right size. They needed to be just the right distance from each other and from the planet. Their orbits needed to work in tandem in just the right way. And even then, you had to time it exactly right, the phenomenon changing the entirety of the sky for only a short while. 

But, eventually, Din found a planet that met all the requirements, the intersection of orbits happening not in dozens of years but just a few weeks. 

Din did all the research he could with her there aboard the Razor Crest, something that was surprisingly difficult when trying to surprise someone living in such close quarters. He waited for her to be preoccupied, usually playing with Grogu or reviewing star charts with a small frown on her beautiful face. He was almost caught in the act a week before the big day, reading something about the solar festival when she came into the cockpit. 

“What’s that?” She asked from the doorway, Grogu propped on her hip. Din scrambled to close the hologram before she could actually see it. 

“Information,” he said quickly. “About where the next bounty is.” 

“Oh,” she deflated a little. 

He frowned below his helmet. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she went back to smiling. “It just looked like fun is all. We could use a little fun.” 

“Patu,” Grogu said. 

She laughed. 

“Yes, especially you.” 

Din smiled to himself. She had no idea. 

“If this hunt goes well, cyar’ika, maybe we can take a break after, go somewhere you want. As long as we can lay low.” 

Her face brightened, a sparkle in her beautiful brown eyes.

“I’d really like that,” she said. “We’ve never had a chance to just take a break.” 

After that, Din was determined to give her exactly what she wanted. After all her kindness to him and Grogu, all the three of them had been through together, she deserved everything she wanted. 

He wasn’t able to keep his plan a secret for long once they were on planet, though. Even the spaceport was covered in decorations, dark banners with glowing white coronas in the middle of them, a smattering of stars around the edges, small lights that were dark in the middle and bright around the rim hanging everywhere. 

She looked around almost cautiously, Grogu held close to her chest as the three of them left the ship. 

“Din…” She frowned, her brows knitting together as they emerged from the spaceport and onto the streets of the city, where decorations and stands celebrating the eclipse covered everything. “Din, are we…” 

“You said you wanted to take a break,” he said. “And you said you’ve always wanted to see an eclipse. So, cyar’ika, I thought we could do both.” 

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her look quite so happy, the arm not cradling his son going around his neck as she stretched on her tiptoes to press herself against his armored frame. 

“I can’t believe it!” She almost squealed. “I never… this is amazing! I can’t believe we get to do this!” 

Din just smiled and watched as she made her way through the town, stopping at all the stands, running her fingers over the delicate keepsakes and traditional ornamentation before stopping for one of the fluffy, light pastries coated in thick, dark frosting. 

“Where are we?” She asked, mouth full, as they stopped to watch musicians playing in the street. 

“Deasu,” Din said. “An outer rim planet. There is a full solar eclipse here every five years and it’s been celebrated by the people here for centuries.” 

“That’s incredible,” she said, taking another bite of the pastry. “I didn’t even know there was anything like this in the whole galaxy.” 

“Well,” he said. “I’m glad we were able to find it.” 

The three of them spent the day exploring the festivities, Maddy even dragging Din out to dance as the sun was setting and the spotchka set in. 

Din made sure they had a prime spot to watch the eclipse the next day, settling in at the edge of a lake as the celebration spilled over from the town and into the open space just outside it. Musicians played, children ran, people danced. Maddy sat close to Din, the two of them watching Grogu play with the bugs in the grass near the water’s edge as the eclipse drew closer and closer. 

As the moon began to blot out the sun, she put on the special glasses and watched as the light changed and the air grew colder. The light on the ground shifted, becoming speckled crescents that scattered over the grass and the water. Maddy leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin propped against her palms, an utterly enraptured look on her face as the moon blotted out the sun. Things went almost eerily quiet as the phenomenon neared totality, the sky looking closer to night than midday. There was a moment of silence as the perfect, slender ring of light formed around the moon. Light and darkness, in perfect harmony. Then, there was a cheer, the celebration going from nothing to everything in just a moment. 

Maddy laughed and took the glasses off, looking in awe at everything around her. Din was sure that whatever she was seeing was beautiful but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her smile was wide, her eyes were bright and she looked happier than he had ever seen her. His view was better. 

“Isn’t this the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen?” She asked, looking up at the darkened sky. 

“Yes,” he said, still watching her. “It is.” 

[teecupangel]

After the Solar Flare Desmond lives, gets sent into the past but he opens a restaurant because for some reason it's really popular in whatever time he's in so he just expands and before he knows it, he's written down in history as the most successful restaurant owner (could be whatever ship, could be harem)

Harem it is!

So, for this idea, let’s set up the restaurant first.

Let’s say that, after the Solar Flare, Desmond is in the Gray with Clay who got there because a digital copy of him was sorta encoded into Desmond (“What were you planning to do? Slowly hijack my body?” “I was thinking of transferring my copy into your sperm and getting reborn as your child.” “That’s… that sounds weird?” “Really? Ancient aliens created mankind, you’re the chosen one and messiah and martyr all in one by said ancient aliens, we have technology that can read genetic memories in our DNA so we can relive our ancestors’ lives AND my plan is what makes you go ‘sounds weird’? Come on, Seventeen.” “I didn’t say it was the only weird thing I’ve ever heard!”)

So Desmond and Clay are getting along swimmingly then there’s a pop and Layla’s there. Clay just go “Ah, another dead person ‘rewarded�� by the Isus, come, join us.” and Layla’s just “???” because last she remembered, she gave up her life to save the world and Desmond just goes “Oh, a fellow martyr! Welcome, welcome!”

So they’re just chilling in the endless void called the Gray (and I Spy has been banned since the only thing they can actually ‘spy’ is each other and they got creative with their questions which includes “Is it someone who has the hots for his ancestors?” “Yes.” “That doesn’t help. Both me and Clay have hots for our ancestors!” “I blame our untreated daddy issues.” “Oh my god.”) until Minerva appeared and tells Desmond that she was able to screw with the Calculations before she died. She gives Desmond some kind of ball (that looks like a stone version of the Apple) and tells him that it contains the power to create a pocket dimension, very small, perhaps just a one-story, maybe two-story building, but it should be enough to connect it to the Calculations itself for a brief moment to stabilize it.

Minerva’s idea is that Desmond could use the pocket dimension to exist in the world, at any point in time, and interact with people (but only in that pocket dimension… “Like a portable Gray?” “……… Yes… I supposed you would be correct in that, Innkeeper.” “Did you… did you just literally translate my last name???”)

Minerva tells Desmond to think of a building that the pocket dimension can take the form in and her calling Clay ‘innkeeper’ reminded Desmond of how he wanted to own a restaurant. How, before he landed a job in Bad Weather, he actually helped out in the kitchen of a few diners, sometimes just washing the dishes, other times, cutting ingredients up when things get too busy, and sometimes, a kind cook/owner would teach him an easy dish or two that he can cook if things get super hectic. Then he remembers how the warmest memories he had of his childhood were helping his mother cook when she had the time to do such ‘mundane’ things.

So everyone is surprised when the pocket dimension looks like a restaurant. Layla was expecting him to create a bureau or something similar. Clay expected him to recreate Bad Weather. Minerva just stares at him as she says, “So this is your choice. Very well.”

They checked the restaurant and there was a second floor with bedrooms (with separate bathrooms) that seemed to already been ‘furnished’ to their liking… even Minerva’s. It’s kinda creepy because Layla’s room looks like a fusion of her childhood bedroom and her apartment’s bedroom. Clay guessed that the pocket dimension heard Desmond’s idea of ‘everyone should have their own rooms’ and used their memories to create it.

Strangely enough… there are also a lot of locked rooms that they can’t open. Minerva guessed they are meant to house either ‘guests’ or future ‘employees’. The 2nd floor defies logic as it seemed to be bigger than the first floor but Minerva insists that it would look ‘normal’ on the outside. (“So what you’re saying is it’s bigger-” “No.” “What?” “No. We are not making that reference. Shush.” “Oh, come on!”)

Okay, so Minerva was taking a wild guess here because she didn’t test out the pocket dimension (“Why not?” “I died before I could.” “… yeah, okay, that sounds like a legit reason.”) but she believed that the pocket dimension took Desmond’s desires and rolled it all up into one thing which was this restaurant-in-the-first-floor/living-quarters-in-the-second-floor. This meant that they were meant to ‘get’ more people.

Clay and Desmond turned to stare at each other because, yeah, they already have an idea of who some of those people are.

When they check the restaurant, Desmond is super excited because the pantry is fully stocked with sooooo many things that he wanted to ‘play with’ and Minerva noticed that the perishables were placed in some kind of device that looked very similar to the Isus’ stasis pods. This meant that anything they put there would remain in the state they were when they put it in until they take it out then time will resume for them normally (no sudden aging though so if they plan to age meat, they gotta do it the old fashion way).

Layla is the one who noticed the ‘vending machine’ looking thing with an entire touchscreen just covering the front of it next to the pantry and she tried using it, eyes going wild when she realized what the touchscreen was showing.

It was some kind of online shopping app but the ‘price’ was showing something called “Points” instead. There was some kind of trashcan-like thing attached to it and Clay just dumped a bag of green peas from the pantry into it (“Clay!” “What? No one likes frozen green peas! It’s a stasis pod, WHY would it even have frozen green peas?!”) and the app gave them 3 points for the green peas. Out of curiosity, Layla dropped the 20 dollars she was hiding in her boot and it gave them “2000 points”. They would need to experiment some more but it seemed like actual currency gives them more points than items (or maybe the app just doesn’t like frozen green peas).

Then they saw another touchscreen in a room that looked to be some kind of meeting room and it looked like… a map? No. It was like one of those big screens in meeting rooms and… it was showing a list of years.

Each year was grayed out and next to it were points.

Desmond’s eyes widened as he saw the first year he recognized.

1191 was grayed out and it had “200,711,170,000 points” next to it. He tried to click it and it gives an error of “You have insufficient points to travel to this year. Please add more funds.”

And then Layla went “Oh, oh, oh! 431 BC! It’s not grayed out!” and Desmond clicked it instead.

It then gave them locations. All of the locations were grayed out with Athens needing “10,000 points” and Lakonia needing “30,000 points”. There was only one location that wasn’t grayed out: Megaris. When they clicked that, the only option it gave them was an unlocked “Magara”.

“It seems the pocket dimension is giving this to you as a ‘freebie’.” “Or a tutorial run.”

They tried giving more items from the pantry to the ‘trashcan’ but it only gives them measly ‘1~5 points’ so, yeah, Desmond wasn’t unlocking 1191 anytime soon. It was even the cheapest of the three years Desmond wanted to pick too!

Left with no choice (and 2 coins from Minerva did give them ‘20,000 points’ total), they decided to open a restaurant in the only place they can travel to and get enough money to unlock the other years.

(Oh god. I unintentionally created an isekai OP system for them…)

You know… I said first but, goddamn, that took a while.

Anyway…

Unorganized Note Related to the Restaurant:

Desmond is their main chef with Clay being his sous chef/kitchen lackey, mainly because Desmond did have a bit of experience with cooking (he has the most experience among the four of them anyway) and Clay used to part-time for diners too during his college years.

Layla’s specialty is college-approved cup noodles. She is only allowed to help cut stuff up and stir things until they’re sure she can handle more.

Minerva burned water. Her defense of “I never considered a need to cook” was not accepted (together with the implication that she had human slaves to do it for her) and she has been barred from the kitchen.

This means Minerva is their waitress and Layla tried to get her to smile but she just stares at her. Because of this, Layla has been conscripted to manage the front end and make sure Minerva doesn’t insult anyone by mistake.

The pantry needs to be restocked if they were going to use it, of course, so their points will also be used to make sure they have the food they can serve and sell.

The touchscreen in the kitchen gives a list of food that they can check (thankfully no greyed-out ones). Most of them have warnings of “Desmond Miles is not experienced enough to make this yet. There is a high chance of failure. Will you still risk it?” and “Necessary support not yet acquired. Please try again once necessary support is available.”. All those that give warnings have a red triangle for the ones that have a high chance of failure on the left side of the recipe name and a red x mark for those that need ‘support’ on the same left side. Some even have both x and triangle.

QOL for the kitchen touchscreen: it automatically takes items from the pantry and it appears on some kind of dumbwaiter-like hole below the touchscreen. It will also give messages of ingredients that need to be bought first and poking ‘buy’ also sends those newly bought ingredients to the hole. Very convenient. (like someone who had been so annoyed about having to go thru so many menus to find information on the ingredients necessary for their synthesizing had developed this feature)

They realized what support means when Clay clicked on “Pomidorówka” because he remembered making that with his grandmother. A message of “Support member: Clay Kaczmarek is necessary for this dish for now. Continue?” popped up and they poked ‘yes’ and Clay recognized the recipe as the exact recipe that his grandmother taught her. So… apparently, the necessary support is someone who would know the recipe more than Desmond.

Because there are a lot of recipes, they decide to have a revolving menu instead. If Desmond likes the customer enough, he might be willing to take off-the-menu requests.

Unorganized Notes for the timeline and stuff:

Technically, the restaurant can time-hop to any year they have unlocked at any time (unlocking is a one-time payment, I’m not that evil). It seems that the nearer they are to 2012, the more points they would need.

The restaurant would change the front-end design to fit what is ‘possible’ during that time period. The backend (kitchen + meeting room + 2nd floor) remains the same with the exception of cutleries and utensils that their customers would use.

Desmond is the only person who can leave the pocket dimension BUT all the touchscreens are unavailable if he’s not in the pocket dimension and shows a time limit of 1 hour (which can be ‘charged’ by expending points, 1,000 points = 1 minute). The second floor is also inaccessible when Desmond leaves and anyone on the second floor is teleported to the meeting room the moment Desmond steps out.

It seems that actual currency (regardless of the year) will always give x100 amount of points. (ex: 50 florins will give 5,000 points). Ingredients and other items from the online shopping app seemed to be forever 50% of its original real-life price (by their estimate). There’s also sales and flashsales. The app’s sales have weird titles like “Not Gonna Make A Racist Joke Sale” (no that’s really the name of the sale) for sales on ingredients not normally available in the US and “I Can’t Believe It’s Butter Sale” for all kinds of butter and products with butter or made from butter. Their favorite is “I Don’t Get Paid To Do This So I Wanna Play A Game” sale where everything has a 70%-90% discount but the caveat is that the sale only last for 15 minutes from the moment they tapped ‘Let’s Play!’ from the message.

Their restaurant would become ‘legendary’ because of the good food that might be strange or unfamiliar to a lot of people but the taste is definitely to die for (thank you, modern convenience).

Time flows as normal when they’re in a specific timeline but anyone in the pocket dimension doesn’t seem to age.

Minerva believes that there is some kind of Apple-like mind manipulation at play in the pocket dimension. It’s nothing big, just a simple “this is a normal restaurant with normal-looking employees” and maybe a bit of “you will not think anything is weird here.”.

Desmond would sometimes go to the front when it’s slow or Clay tells him to take a break and that Clay can handle things on his own for a while. That’s usually when he interacts with the customers.

While they can only ‘take’ a few as employees, their actions in the timeline do change things… a bit. Maybe some who were meant to die don’t, maybe they get a different ending… etc.

Unorganized Notes for the Layla Trilogy:

Kassandra does notice that something is weird about the restaurant but Layla seems friendly enough so she keeps coming back (maybe even starts to flirt with Layla?).

Kassandra finally sees that something is weird about the restaurant after she returns from Atlantis. This gives a message of “Kassandra’s room has been unlocked” in all the touchscreens. They bring Kassandra to the second floor and she opens the door. The room looks like a mix of her bedroom when she was a child, when she was in Kephallonia, and the home she had in Ionian Watch. On the bed was a box which she picked up. Inside is a note that says “If you drink this, you will become part of this dimension. A copy will be created to ensure that your remaining tasks as dictated by the Calculations will be fulfilled and keep the timeline stable. Warning: becoming a denizen of this dimension will mean you will be unable to leave.” and inside the box is a small bottle with an unknown liquid inside.

Considering Kassandra is effectively an immortal in canon so it's up to you if she drinks it or she's like the regular who pops in and out regardless of when the restaurant is at the moment.

The ‘cheapest’ year around Bayek’s time is 48 BCE (20,171,027,000) - Alexandria (20,000) - It is also the cheapest year in general.

Bayek becomes a regular because they buy the meat he takes from his kills for a good price, especially if it’s fresh, and also give him a discount on the food. (They don’t really need the meat but Layla insisted they try to find ways to help Bayek and this was their… ‘compromise’)

Eivor’s cheapest year is 873 (20,201,110,000) - Ravensthorpe (20,000). Strangely enough, all the people in Ravensthorpe seem to believe that they had just opened up shop. Randvi even tells Eivor that they were constructing the restaurant while Eivor was away building an alliance. Hytham vouched for them and tells Eivor they are allies of the Hidden Ones. (More mind-bending stuff from the restaurant apparently)

Minerva and Eivor… may have a thing? Minerva knows Eivor is Odin’s Sage and she remembers how Odin slept with her and used her but, at the same time, the attraction is there.

Any feasts and such are now done in the restaurant and Eivor and Randvi pay for ‘catering’.

Mandatory ‘employees’: Bayek and Eivor

Possible mandatory ‘employee’: Kassandra

Potential optional ‘employees’: Hytham - 890 (20,201,110,000), Aya - 30 BCE (20,171,027,000), Alexios (Deimos) - 422 BCE (20,181,002,000)

Unorganized Notes for the Desmond Saga:

Alright, here comes the main harem (I mean, you can totally add anyone to the harem but these are the big three that are mandatory XD)

The cheapest location in 1191 is Jerusalem for 100,000 points (“What the fuck.” “I think the pocket dimension knows what’s in ‘high demand’.”) and Desmond left to check things out (get a feel on when in 1191 they were in) and took around 1 hour and 20 minutes (costing them an additional 20,000 points).

He came back with a barely hanging in there Kadar and the touchscreens all pinged a “Kadar Al-Sayf’s room has been unlocked” and Desmond realized what the pocket dimension was trying to do. He gets Kadar to his room and opened the box, revealing a small bottle with a note attached to it that says “If Kadar Al-Sayf drinks this, he will become part of this dimension. As his part of the Calculations have already been completed, no replica will be made however, as a denizen of this dimension, Kadar Al-Sayf cannot leave this pocket dimension.”

Desmond asks Kadar if he wants to live no matter what and Kadar nods. Kadar is saved but he’s stuck in the restaurant now. He doesn’t seem to mind and admits that he became an Assassin because it’s what was expected of him. He likes cooking and helping Desmond. Kadar is a possible harem candidate but not mandatory.

Kadar also unlocks a few of the recipes and he’s the reason why Desmond realized that some of the ‘necessary supports’ have “????” in the recipe. One of them was noted as: “???? Kadar Al-Sayf ????” and Kadar mentioned how his brother could make that specific food better which makes Desmond believe that the “????” are other possible supports and it’s a hierarchy of who can make it best (from best to worst(?)/meh(?))

Kadar waits until an informant he trusts goes to the restaurant and asks the informant to tell Malik that he’s here but to not report it to anyone else and Malik visits. Kadar lies to Malik, saying that he is hiding in the kitchens so Al Mualim wouldn’t know he’s alive… because he doesn’t want to be an Assassin. This does drive a wedge between the brothers but Malik keeps quiet about Kadar’s survival and becomes a regular.

Altaïr visits the restaurant because Malik wasn’t in the bureau and he’s annoyed. Minerva and Altaïr starts glaring at each other because Altaïr is rude and Minerva is more rude so Desmond goes out to take care of Altaïr’s table while Malik is in the private tables (usually used for big party) so he can talk to Kadar and he wants Altaïr to wait… for a while.

Once it becomes clear that Malik was planning to make Altaïr for quite a while, Desmond just gives up and sits with Altaïr and talks to him (“Flirt with him.” “It’s not flirting.” “Uh-huh, Layla…” “Definitely flirting.” “Eivor.” “The stars in your eyes do not lie, Desmond.” “Minerva.” “Yes.” “Any objection from the peanut gallery? No? In conclusion: flirting!”)

After that, Altaïr becomes a regular, even going to Jerusalem on the way to his next mission even if it’s… not really on the way.

Altaïr is the first person to receive a takeout box (“I think they call that a bento box of love.” “No, it’s not.” “Desmond… you ordered the goddamn bento box from the app. It's even one of those expensive ones that keeps the food warm for hours.” “It was on sale.” “Uh-huh. You have anything to say, Kadar? You helped him make that bento box.” “It’s not a bent-” “I made the heart-shaped carrots!” “KADAR!” “I got your back, Desmond! ( ´ ▽ ` )b” “Oh my god.”)

Anyway, uuuhhh… Altaïr and Desmond start a relationship and Altaïr’s room is unlocked after Al Mualim’s death and he visits the restaurant on his way to Acre (it’s… it’s not the optimal route to take, Altaïr.) to talk to Desmond because the Apple showed him a vision of Desmond. Altaïr drinks it without hesitation and his copy is created in the room itself. It asks for Altaïr’s Apple and he gives it to the copy. They watch as the copy leaves the restaurant then… decide that the restaurant is closed for the day since their head chef was ‘busy’ celebrating.

Depending on which Ezio you’ll like to add to the restaurant/harem, the cheapest year would be AC2!Ezio: 1476 (200,911,170,000) - Monteriggioni for 100,000 points, ACB!Ezio: 1503 (201,011,160,000) - Rome (Tiber Island) for 100,000 points, ACR!Ezio: 1511 (201,111,150,000) - Constantinople (Galata District) for 100,000 points.

If you choose AC2!Ezio: he and Desmond start talking whenever he visits. Once he sees Minerva’s message, he recognized her as the quiet waitress Minerva and that’s when he’ll learn the truth from Desmond and the others. That’s also when he learned that the guy he had been flirting with was in a relationship with the legendary Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.

If it wasn’t AC2!Ezio, Ezio would learn of Desmond early on because he recognized Minerva. Minerva likes to call him ‘prophet’ too so the jig is up before it could even begin. Ezio is a bit wary at first but he keeps coming back anyway because he has questions. Also… he just likes talking to Desmond. He’s a regular and knows about Altaïr but also knows that Altaïr seems okay with him flirting with Desmond. He and Desmond start a relationship around the midway point of ACB/ACR and is the first non-’employee’ to ever visit the second floor. (Not counting Kadar)

His room unlocks after (AC2) recovering the Apple and returning to Monteriggioni, (ACB) letting gravity take care of Cesare, and (ACR) visiting the library underneath Masyaf seeing the bones of Altaïr’s replica.

The cheapest year for Ratonhnhaké:ton is 1776 (201,210,300,000) - Davenport (100,000). Like Ravensthorpe, the people of the homestead seemed to believe that they helped build the restaurant.

Ratonhnhaké:ton becomes a regular and visits every time he returned to the homestead. As if to counter the lack of customers/regulars, the sales they get in this time period have a x1000 modifier instead. (“Where was this in Ravensthorpe, huh?!” “Stop shouting at the touchscreen. Randvi and Eivor kept us afloat and profiting, remember? Achilles can’t do that here.”)

Desmond tried to save Haytham but was unable to because of the limitations.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s door unlocks when he gets the Apple from Washington and he joins the restaurant after trying to look for his village for three more years.

Ratonhnhaké:ton only starts a relationship with Desmond after he joins the restaurant.

Mandatory ‘employees’: Kadar, Altaïr (mandatory harem member), Ezio (mandatory harem member) and Ratonhnhaké:ton (mandatory harem member)

Potential optional ‘employees’: Adha - 1190 (200,802,050,000), Malik Al-Sayf - 1226 (200,711,170,000), Maria Thorpe - 1228 (200,711,170,000), Darim Ibn-La'Ahad - 1260 (201,111,150,000), Sef Ibn-La'Ahad - 1226 (201,111,150,000), Federico Auditore - 1476 (200,911,170,000), Yusuf Tazim - 1512 (201,111,150,000), Aveline de Grandpré - 1777 (201,210,300,000)

Hey, teecup, why are there a lot of AC1 characters??? Ah, it’s not that there are a lot of AC1 characters, it’s that there are a lot of Ibn-La'Ahad characters. I wonder why.

Unorganized Notes for the Unnamed MC Saga:

Alright, all mandatory employees here are possible harem candidates but not mandatory harem members. (actually, the same can be said for anyone that can become an employee of the time-hopping pocket dimension, especially Haytham and Edward)

Speaking of Edward Kenway! The cheapest is 1717 (201,310,290,000) - Nassau (100,000) and the restaurant sorta takes over the already established tavern there. Anne Bonny seemed to believe that she works there from 8 to 5 as a waitress and everyone just rolls with it. Especially since she calls Minerva ‘Minnie’.

Edward and the rest of his pirate ‘friends’ are regulars. Edward starts getting close to Ratonhnhaké:ton who keeps quiet about their blood relation.

They actually time-travel to 1725 (201,310,290,000) - London (100,000) and Edward is happy to see them and seemed to believe that they have opened shop in London so they stay for a while… saving up for their next time-hop. During that time, Edward and his family became regulars and young Haytham likes following Ratonhnhaké:ton around. Edward’s room finally opens on December 3, 1735 and Ratonhnhaké:ton tells him the importance of the date. If he returns home, he will die, Jennifer will be sold off and Haytham will become a Templar.

Edward refuses to drink the bottle and leaves the restaurant. Ratonhnhaké:ton knew he would pick that choice and he accepts it… then notice that the box was empty. Edward had taken the bottle.

Edward manages to get Jennifer to safety but he’s too wounded to do anything else. Desmond gets there in time to help Edward drink the bottle, hoping that it would do something. It didn’t and Edward dies in his arms instead.

When he returns to the restaurant, he learns that Edward appeared in his room and his last memory was Desmond helping him drink the bottle which meant that the Edward Desmond saw died was his replica.

They stayed to make sure Jennifer was safe (who gets taken in by the Brotherhood and smuggled out of London while Tessa and Haytham Kenway are taken by Birch to an unknown location) before Edward requests that they try to save Haytham.

Minerva warns that they cannot make any big waves. This pocket dimension wasn’t meant to change what will come to pass. It was always meant to give Desmond a reward that he desires. Desmond argues that what he desires most is to save as many people as he can so he agrees to Edward’s request.

The possible year they thought of is 1756 (201,411,111,000) - New York (100,000). One of their regulars is Shay Cormac and Ratonhnhaké:ton knows him although they seem to have to wait for a bit for Shay Cormac to meet Haytham Kenway. They asked Shay to give a message to Haytham.

So Shay kinda becomes… a tagalong to the entire Kenway drama and learns about the ‘magic’ of the restaurant after Edward shows up and Haytham recognized him as his long dead father.

I have no idea if Shay and Haytham should have rooms. It’ll be a bit awkward if they do. If they do get rooms, Haytham’s room will unlock the day he is about to meet Ratonhnhaké:ton for the first time while Shay’s door unlocks after Haytham’s death and he returns to New York because he assumed the restaurant was still there (it was… but that’s because they need more funds before they can time-hop again).

They time-hop to Paris (100,000) in 1789 (201,411,110,000) because… uuuhh… someone bought Les Mis in the app and now a few of them wants to know just how accurate Les Mis is? IDK, man, it’s getting late and I want to finish this before I go sleep. Future!me will think of a nicer reason. Or you know, keep that reason ‘cause my tired mind thinks it’s funny.

Okay, so… for this one, it would be fun if the restaurant takes over Café Théâtre and Arno’s headquarters is transferred next door. Technically, Arno would become their ‘landlord’ (“Oh god, we’re renting now???” “Capitalism.” “That is not a reason!”)

Ezio takes Arno as his ‘budding investor’ student. Clay gets roped in because Ezio believed that he and Clay should have family quality time. Arno thinks they’re cousins.

Arno’s room opens after he returns to Paris after the Dead Kings DLC (they can also time-hop to Saint-Denis in 1794 for 300,000 + 201,501,150,000 points. Their call.)

They go to London (100,000) in 1868 (201,510,230,000) because Edward wanted to check on what happened to the Kenway mansion, I guess? Anyway, because they saved Jennifer, her descendant is now the mentor of the London Assassins but the Kenway mansion has been abandoned because… well… Templars.

It doesn’t really change Syndicate’s plot all that much. Only that Jayadeep is reporting to the mentor who had specifically told him not to do anything because Starrick has dug his claws too deeply in London already. Trying to assassinate him now (and his allies) would only fuck them up later on if they don’t have a fallout plan in place.

The Frye twins don’t have a fallout plan in place but that’s really not all that important to the restaurant plot, I guess?

Anyway, the restaurant gets the Rooks as regular. If we’re not making Arno or/and Jacob harem members, Jacob flirts with Arno badly and you can spin this as FrenchFrye. If they are harem members, FrenchFrye is also possible and it’s a case of FrenchFrye + Desmond. Go wild.

God, I may be getting too sleepy, I think this block might be more ‘suggestions’ than actual plot points, sorry, nonny

Anyway, Evie’s room opens after Starrick is dealt with. (and she might have an extra bottle for a special someone, hhhmmm?) Jacob believes he’s not been ‘chosen’ but that’s fine with him.

They might have time-hop somewhere else for a while then returned to London (100,000) in 1888 (201,512,150,000) where they learn that Jacob is missing.

Desmond takes Evie’s place since she’s stuck in the pocket dimension and Jack the Ripper DLC happens. At the end, Jacob’s room opens and he joins the restaurant.

Mandatory ‘employees’: Arno, Evie, Jacob

Possible mandatory ‘employees’: Shay, Haytham, Jayadeep (for Evie)

Potential optional ‘employees’: Anne Bonny and Mary Read - 1721 (201,310,290,000), Adéwalé - 1758 (201,402,180,000), Élise de la Serre - 1794 (201,411,110,000), Lydia Frye - 1919 (201,510,230,000)

Modern Day Era and Other Unorganized Notes (Honestly I just cut the notes up because blocks have a character limit and an entire list is considered 1 block)

If you think the whole ‘can’t leave’ part is too much, it’s a lie. There’s an item in the shopping app that does let them ‘leave’ in the sense that they will have the same limitation as Desmond does. It’s a tacky-looking bracelet called “Break Time Pass” that can be purchased for “99,999,999,999,999” points. It’s one of the most expensive items in the app, it does not appear if searched or if they use the ‘highest price first’ sort in the ‘all items’ page, its ‘store’ can only be found by going thru a lot of pages and it will never go on sale BUT it can be purchased as many times as they want and anyone can use it.

I know there are too many people for a restaurant but… you know… shifts and stuff.

Potential optional ‘employees’: Basim Ibn Ishaq - 2024 (20,231,012,000,000), Shaun Hastings and Rebecca Crane - 2025 (20,091,117,000,000), Lucy Stillman - 2012 (20,071,117,000,000), Lucas Clarkson (possibly also Darcy) - 2029 (20,201,029,000,000) (Possible timeline anomaly, Minerva believes that this year is an offshoot of some kind and not the main timeline that they came from)

[auntie-venom]

Will of Fate

Chapter Eleven

Fandom: Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: There hasn’t been an unidentified spacecraft in the stratosphere of Arkadia in over two decades, let alone three in one day. Those skilled or mad enough to venture into the Chaos unguided were few and far between. That means no one has ever made it to Arkadia who wasn’t intending to be here.

Until today.

or

Din Djarin finds an unmapped planet filled with beings who have the same powers as the Child, but know nothing of the force or the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: Eziriel and the Mandalorian kick off the hunt for the missing Imperial TIE pilot.

Word Count - 3,944

Chapter Warnings: None

Will of Fate Masterlist

Read on Ao3

A/N: This chapter is a little later than I intended. Real life tends to get busy when you want to get creative. I really appreciate everyone who is reading and letting me know that you like what I am doing. It is very encouraging. I hope you enjoy, any feedback is welcome!

Chapter Eleven

Eziriel is grumpily eating her breakfast. She got up at a ridiculous hour, long before the sun was meant to rise, to ride to the skyport and pack all the supplies she and the Mandalorian would need. She knew that he planned to leave in the morning after dropping his kid off with Nora and she wanted to make sure she had the skyship ready by then.

She had packed provisions into bags with the assumption that this task would take no longer than seven days. She honestly had no idea how long a bounty hunter took to catch a bounty, but if it took longer than seven days she would personally either grab something from a beacon station supply cache or take the few hours by skyship back to Helix to grab more supplies.

She had put away the drop-seats in the drop bay and packed the speeder bike into that area of the skyship. The ship was pretty small, but the Forest of Ga’ladora was very dense. She was sure she should be able to fly him close enough to the last known evidence point to drop him off with the bike to help his descent while she found a close place to land.

She did most of these tasks with a sense of smoldering rage. Amarian and her were discussing the lost Imperial TIE pilot on their way home from work the day before. After she voiced her concerns over her growing state of paranoia after returning to work and not knowing how to act amongst a potential betrayer, he admitted his frustration with the missing Imp and how he was irritated at the team of Enforcers’ lack of results. Eziriel thought they were just commiserating together over related woes until Amarian joked about hiring the Mandalorian to fix both of their problems; he could hunt down the TIE pilot and Eziriel would have to go with him due to her oath binding herself to his safety. Eziriel laughed, thinking there was no way Amarian would use her oath to the Mandalorian as a way to sneak her out of the office so quickly after being gone for weeks just so she can avoid the tension there.

But the bastard kriffing did it.

Eziriel knows an argument with the Mandalorian is coming. She did not discuss her coming with him on this trip and knows that there is going to be pushback from the man, and she completely understands. She does not want to be put in a dangerous situation. She is not someone who looks for risks to be heroic, she is the type of person to help come up with a plan and send people on their way with useful toys. So she knows she will have to sell her coming in a way that the Mandalorian is going to have to accept, and by the time she is finished with her labor, she thinks she's gotten her argument fully prepared.

It was an overall exhausting morning, but she took a moment of serenity, sitting at the edge of the launchpad and letting the rising sun warm her skin as she ate her breakfast in the quiet of the morning. Trying hard not to dwell on the impending argument from a stubborn man and about how much she enjoyed his presence interacting with her family last night.

After scheming with Amarian about the hunt and the supplies the Mandalorian needed to complete it successfully, they had a hearty dinner where Amarian offered the Mandalorian a table to eat in his locked study with the audio patched into the dining area. With how used to the disembodied voice of CHI the family was it was very easy to integrate the Mandalorian’s input into conversation. He did not speak much, but he asked more about the farming district where Nora grew up and how the agricultural council operated. This led to a boring discussion that Eziriel bailed out of in favor of making her niblings and the green child laugh with silly faces. It was a familiar type of evening that she missed while she was away trying to source the Cloak’s glitches. So she is extra annoyed she has to leave the familiarity of it so quickly because of Amarian using the Mandalorian.

By the time she is finished with her breakfast, Eziriel has built up the mental fortitude she knows she needs in order not to take out her frustrations upon another person. Taking one last moment to watch the late summer sunlight up Helix for the day, she stands up and goes to start running the preflight check on the small skyship.

════════════════════════════════════

“What are you doing here?” the Mandalorian’s voice asks out from the small cabin of the ship and she looks up from underneath the console to catch him placing a forearm onto the upper part of the door frame to lean in. “Don’t you have work?”

“Yep,” she says nonchalantly, hauling herself into the pilot seat and turning it to face him. She stares at him for a moment before continuing, “But I can review project updates during our flight.”

She watches his whole body still as he stares down at her and she feels a spike of worry come off him before he finally says in a stern voice, “No.”

“Yes,” she responds.

“You are not coming with me,” he demands.

“Hey Lori, I don’t want to come at all–”

“Great, problem solved,” he interrupts before grabbing her and pulling her out of the pilot seat.

“But I am sworn to your safety.” She explains, planting her heels into the ground and pulling herself out of his grip, knowing full and well that he isn't giving his full strength. She sits back down in the chair and gives him a scolding look. “We have gone over this.”

“What I do is too dangerous for some princess to ride along on,” he says in a frustrated tone. Leaning over into her space he plants his hands on the armrests, caging her into the seat. “This is dangerous and your silly superstitions have no place in it. Go home.”

Eziriel feels her facial features go heavy in anger at the condescending tone he is giving her and she has to take a breath before she lashes out. She’s used to being talked down to at work by her higher-ups or political snobs who want to use her for whatever skeezy plot they desire, but she expected more from those she considers friends. Yes, she has teased the Mandalorian, but has never patronized him like this before and it is insulting that he is doing it to her. She has been nothing but respectful to him and his more devout followings of his culture, just for him to throw hers in her face. There is a twinge of regret she feels from him that grows as she stares up at him in silence and she leans in close enough to him that her nose almost touches his helmet.

“The stakes of my honor are not superstition to me,” she states in a low threatening voice. “I thought a Mandalorian would understand that and would not insult it. Just as we do not insult how others' honor might be recognized in their culture,” she finishes with a flick to the side of his helmet to drive home her point and glares at him.

That small sliver of regret she feels in him cracks into remorse, but that initial spike of worry clouds his aura and she can understand where his harsh words came from. They stay there, him looking down at her still caging her in and her staring at the T in his helmet hoping she is meeting his eyeline. He finally drops his head forward and lets out a familiar sigh that Ezirial is starting to recognize as exasperated concession.

“I can tell that you are good at your job and my being there will be distracting enough to make it more dangerous for you, and ultimately go against my oath to your safety. That is why I feel I can keep you most safe by flying you to the locations you are needed and giving you backup from the safety of the skyship,” she explains her logic to him. “I have no intention of being on the ground with you hunting this person. My way of keeping you safe is to keep an open comm with you so I know if I need to give you transport, tech, or supply assistance.”

Eziriel gently raps her knuckles on his helmet, getting him to look up before continuing, “Come on, do you really think I am foolish enough to think a Mandalorian needs defensive protection? And that I would be the top choice for that position?” She makes a soft scoffing noise from her lips to show her feelings for that scenario.

“Having transport backup would be nice, so I don’t have to haul the bounty all the way back to where I initially parked the ship,” he admits to her and stands back up to his full height.

“I do seem to thrive as your personal chauffeur. Maybe I should consider a career change,” she quips while turning her attention to the console to start closing the loading ramp and begin her ignition checklist. “Plug in the coordinates that Amarian sent you into the navigation.”

“I am sorry I disrespected your beliefs,” he says softly, ignoring her command. He lowers himself into the copilot seat keeping his helmet on her and she can feel the remorse in both his words. “That was a cruel thing to do. Especially since I know you are just trying to help.”

“Thank you,” she answers just as softly, almost taken aback at his genuine, eloquent apology.

“But,” he starts and she inwardly cringes waiting for another argument. “If there comes a moment where you cross paths with the target, you must listen to me.”

Eziriel looks at how he is leaning in her direction from his jumpseat. He is tense and while his anxiety over her coming has lessened dramatically, he is still nervous. He cares, at least somewhat, about what happens to her.

“I will,” she agrees and smiles at him. “Didn’t know you cared so much Lori. I think you are starting to like me.”

“I just don’t want to create a political incident by getting the princess killed,” he says with a dry tone before turning to put in the coordinates, and for the first time since they met, Eziriel reads a lie off of the Mandalorian.

════════════════════════════════════

Since they were flying with a smaller planet-side ship within the troposphere they were looking at a four-hour trip to get to the crash site in Ga’ladora’s Canyon. The Mandalorian wanted to inspect the site itself to see if he could glean anything that the Enforcers missed.

The first hour was spent planning, starting with potential drop spots from the most recent planetary scans. The bottom of the canyon of the area they were going is too unstable with its rocky foundation for the weight of the ship, but there were a few options where Eziriel could lower into the canyon enough to drop the Mandalorian on the speeder bike so long as there haven’t been any recent collapses of one of the stone pillars that litter the canyon floor with debris.

After solidifying the drop plan, she then shows him some of the options for landing to set up a base camp near where he will land. The closest one, and the agreed upon one, is miles away in a small meadow in the woods that the Mandalorian will have to take one of the steep trails out of the canyon to reach.

She then gives him a small lecture accompanied by a slideshow on her datapad of any flora and fauna that reside in the Forest of Ga’ladora that were dangerous and what to do if he sees one. She doesn't have to see his face to know that he rolled his eyes several times at her presentation, but she does know that he is smart enough to take her warnings to heart.

For the rest of the trip, they sit in the small cabin as Eziriel works through her backlog of project updates from her DefTech team while the Mandalorian sits cross-armed with his helmet pointed at the front viewscreen while some percussion focused music thumps quietly over the comm system. She doesn’t know if he is dozing or just staring out the window but she cannot figure out how he remains so very still for such a long time. She is trying to figure out how long it has been since he last moved when his borrowed comm beeps at him and he slightly flinches. Ahh, dozing then, she thinks with a small grin as he looks at the comm and sighs with a shake of his head.

“Your brother is nearly as irritating as you,” he remarks. “‘Hope you like your pilot, she was desperate to fulfill her council-mandated community service.’” She snorts at Amarian’s message spoken with the dry unimpressed tone of the Mandalorian.

“I am still the reigning terror, I hope,” she says with a smile at him.

“For now,” he concedes and sits up a little straighter in his seat to check the ETA til the drop point. She checks it as well and sees they are about half an hour out and that CHI will be notifying her to take control from them shortly.

She stands up and makes her way out of the cabin and into the drop bay. She double-checks the bag she packed for the Mandalorian is strapped tightly to the speeder bike. She doesn’t want him to lose it on the way down or while he is traveling.

“What’s that?” his voice calls out from behind her making her jolt at his unexpected following.

“I packed some provisions for you. Medkit, survival kit, bedroll, and seven days' worth of food,” she lists as she climbs up to sit sideways on the speeder bike. “I just wanted to give you the option of not having to come back to base camp each night, but you will be missing out on actual bunks,” she says as she points to one of the retracted bunks on the side of the drop bay.

“I appreciate your preparedness,” he says. “But I don’t need much on a hunt.”

“Better to have and not need,” she says with a shrug and then holds her hand out to him. “Your vambrace, please”

He is hesitant but turns to lean his hip against the speeder resting one arm behind her and holding out his other arm to her which she gently takes to lay across her lap. Turning her visor on she inspects the vambrace silently and clicks it on to see the user interface he deals with.

“I could have done that for you,” he chastises.

“This doesn’t allow long-range reception or communication, does it?” She asks, knowing the answer at seeing the hardware through his visor.

“No, only proximity-based,” he says and she hums at him and she opens her HolOmni to pull up local holomaps and her dangerous flora and fauna presentation to begin the data transfer between the two.

“I could fix that for you. Make it so you never have to carry a separate comm again. It’s very freeing,” she offers resting her arm against his while they watch the data load. “I could also make your analog interface into a holo projection interface if you’d like. I’m still perfecting the tactility of the holoform, but it’s pretty solid if you aren’t too aggressive. Give it a feel.”

She angles her arm at him and he lifts his arm from her lap and drags his finger across her menu screen of the HolOmni. She looks up at him to make a joke only to realize how intimately close they are. His chest almost touches her arm and his arm rests behind her in a position that is inches away from an embrace. She feels her neck heat up at the observation and hopes he is too focused on interacting with her HolOmni to notice. When he finally draws his attention back to her face she tries to give him a normal smile but there is a small catch of breath that his vocabulator doesn’t pick up but Eziriel barely hears.

“I think that it might be too nice for me,” he says in a quiet voice before lowering his arm down to place it back in her lap, but this time his hand rests on her thigh rather than hanging off awkwardly.

“You are allowed to want nice things,” she says just as quietly and she feels one of his fingers twitch. She tries to compose what to say next when her HolOmni beeps that the file transfer is done. They don’t pay any attention to it and just stare at each other, gauging one another for a few moments before the posh voice of CHI rings through the ship’s comms.

“We are ten minutes from the drop zone, I suggest you relieve me from autopilot.” Eziriel jerks at his voice and the Mandalorian pulls away.

“Right,” she says. “Saddle up Lori, you’ve got a fall ahead of you.” She gives him a grin and hops down from the bike trying to bury that intimate tension that filled the space only moments earlier with their familiar banter.

“I think I can handle that,” he says while mounting the bike as she makes it to the cabin door.

“Hey,” she catches his attention and he looks up at her. “Let the Will of fate guide your way.” He gives her a nod and she slips into the small cabin to begin their complex descent into Ga’ladora’s Canyon.

════════════════════════════════════

Eziriel had just landed after the successful drop-off and was about to start setting up base camp in the area they both agreed upon when the Mandalorian comms in for the first time.

“Change of plans,” he states suddenly into her earpiece.

“Already? It’s been, like, fifteen minutes?” she complains.

“I have a trail and it goes the opposite direction of where you plan to set up camp. I figured you’d want to at least be in the same direction I’m headed,” he explains. “The second location option is in the direction I’m headed if you want to go set up there.”

“Will do,” she confirms. The second location was much further out, but to the south of the canyon next to a small river with just enough space for the small skyship to land. “Amarian said the storm washed away all their tracks, what did you find?”

“Imperial pilots have protocols if they crash. They are to find the closest civilization to make a rescue call. If they cannot find civilization they are to head to the highest point to set up an emergency transponder,” he explains. “However, they are supposed to make discreet marks to show where they are going so they can be tracked by a rescue unit. You wouldn’t notice the marks unless you were specifically looking for them.”

“And you are a smart hunter who knows their prey,” Eziriel says with a smile. She gets the ship back in the air and can’t help but be impressed with him as he explains what he found. A small mark on the lower part of a nearby stone pillar. From that mark alone he was able to determine the initial direction the TIE pilot was headed six days prior.

“A good bounty hunter knows the target’s tactics,” he states simply once he is finished giving her his explanation.

“I guess you weren’t exaggerating when you said you were the best,” she says cheekily.

“I don’t exaggerate,” he says.

“I know you don’t,” she reassures.

════════════════════════════════════

That first night the Mandalorian surprisingly came back to base camp when it was getting late. They had been staying in touch here and there with him giving her updates and her asking him bounty-hunting questions. When night became fully dark he showed up at camp. He claimed he was close enough that it made sense to rest where she was already set up and had a proximity alert, but the way he groaned in relief at laying on the bunk below her told her the real reason was simply comfort and she was glad she could give him that.

The second day he was out as soon as the sun rose, nodding in acknowledgment at Eziriel’s sleepy goodbye wave. She spends most of the day powering through the rest of her reports and pestering the Mandalorian with little jokes and quips just to hear him sigh, but she swears she can hear a smile in that sigh. He spends the day giving her updates and sometimes talking to her about his thought process in tracking the TIE pilot. He eventually found bootprints his HUD could follow and it made his job easier since there weren’t other humanoid tracks to taint the trail. He doesn’t come back to base camp that day and Eziriel is somewhat disappointed to be spending an evening alone.

On the third day, she spends her time working on a few of her own projects while lounging on a rock by the small river trying to soak in the sun’s warm rays. She ends up asking him random questions today during his updates and she finds out that he thinks having favorite things is pointless. But after nagging him she discovers he prefers savory food over sweet, rural areas over city, and nights in over nights out. Even though he claimed he doesn’t have favorite things he was quick to tell her of his preferred weapons and their ideal situation to be used when she asked, and she had to stifle the laugh his brief enthusiasm caused.

During that third day, he deduces that the TIE pilot is headed towards the mountain range south of them to try and set up the emergency transponder. They discuss finding a new spot for her to move to in the direction he is headed, but off the path that he thinks the Imperial is taking. There were three options in the dense woods and she is unsure if some of the choices are still viable after that storm he arrived in.

“I’ll just check them out tomorrow afternoon to see which one works. I can send you the exact coordinates when I land to your comm so you can manually punch it in your vambrace holomap,” she tells him over comms while she eats her evening ration. She gives him an exaggerated sigh before continuing, “Really Lori, let me upgrade your set-up so people can just drop information to you directly. Imagine, no more carrying a separate comm to sync to your kit.”

“It’s never been a problem before,” he says and follows it with a groan of relief that Eziriel assumes is from getting off the bike for the night.

“Streamlining that process could very well save a life,” she states. “You don’t know how much you might need something like that until it’s too late.”

She can practically hear his eyes roll over the comms, before he goes on a small monologue about how he is perfectly fine without her advanced technology and doesn’t need it to be the best at his job. She just listens to his voice lecture her and smiles softly to herself as the moons crest overhead in the night sky.

<<  Chapter Ten

Chapter Twelve >>

[deadcellmate]

The Blood Queen & Her King

Summary: A mysterious stranger changes the course of a nomarch's life forever. Word Count: 3,536 Rating: Mature Pairing: Gaius Augustine x Kamilah Sayeed Content Notes: Canon typical violence. Read it on AO3 It was as though he wanted it to hurt, wanted her to earn whatever it was he claimed he was going to give her.

Kamilah feared Gaius when she first met him, hated the arrogant glimmer in his eyes, wanted nothing more than to plunge a dagger deep into his chest. She had plunged a dagger deep into his chest, relishing in the way the crimson liquid spilled at his feet, into the sand, onto her dress, staining it. 

Pity it hadn’t been enough. It didn’t stop him from grabbing her by the wrists, sharp, elongated teeth tearing into her neck. She hadn’t remembered screaming—though she was certain she had. But it didn’t matter. His hand clasped over her mouth, and he drank. It was pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, hot knives sinking into tender flesh. It didn’t subside. It was as though he wanted it to hurt, wanted her to earn whatever it was he claimed he was going to give her. 

I don’t want it, she wanted to yell. There is nothing you could give me that will help me reach what I truly want.

What she truly wanted was for her brother to come back. Deep in her bones, with every Roman army she took down, every fleet she attacked, that was what she was working towards. She cognitively understood that was impossible, illogical, so she was willing to try to settle for thousands of dead Romans at her feet. She meant it when she said she would not stop until she no longer drew breath; most likely, Marc Antony would whisper into her cousin’s ear to have her executed as a traitor in order to stop her. If he hadn’t come along, that was how it was going to end. 

She’d been told the story of Helen of Troy a few times when she was a child. She didn’t care for it, but as she began to lose consciousness, either from the pain or the blood loss, as she heard the sound of soldier’s feet thundering against the sand,  she thought of it again. How many ships would they launch to avenge her? How many ships would he launch if she tried to escape from his grasp?

//

Gaius brought Kamilah a gift when she woke up. He presented it to her after the worst of the shock had worn off, when she was no longer focused on the tangy, sweet, metallic taste lingering in the back of her throat, the newfound length of her canines, the hunger boiling inside of her. 

She was too weak to fight him when he helped her out of the hole he’d dug for her in the desert sand, too weak to struggle against his grasp as he carried her back to her tent and set her on her feet. And worst of all, she was too hungry to react when she saw the Roman soldier chained to the chair, his mouth gagged, hatred and fury in his eyes, struggling against his bonds.

“As I promised,” Gaius said. “A gift for you.”

“One of your own men?”

“Octavian won’t miss him.” Gaius said. “And who am I to deny you such a simple pleasure?” 

He didn’t have to tell her what she needed to do, what the soldier was for. She already understood, from the way the hunger turned into an ache, a demand, the way she felt her canines elongate again. She was upon the soldier before she even understood what she was doing, her fangs ripping into his throat. He must have screamed, but she didn't hear it. The taste of his blood in her mouth was better than the sweetest fruits, the finest wines. Nothing could compare to it. 

But then, when the soldier slumped forward in the chair, dead and depleted, reality hit her. She’d killed plenty of roman soldiers, but never in such a grotesque way. She’d never enjoyed it the way she enjoyed this. She was scared, not because of what she had done, but because what she knew she was going to do: she would kill like this again. She would enjoy it immensely. And may the gods help whoever tried to stop her.

Kamilah tackled Gaius, hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing as hard as she could. “What did you do to me?” She demanded. She was startled by how desperate and ragged and scared her voice sounded. “What did you do to me?!” 

She wished she could kill him. She tried to, squeezing down on his windpipe, hoping brute force would finally get the job done. Despite the sound of bones breaking, despite the fact that she was choking him harder than she’d ever choked anybody in her life, it didn’t matter. Because all he did was laugh. 

“I made you better. Stronger.”

“You made me into a demon. Like you!” 

His eyes glowed a deep, bloody red. “I made you into a god.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, easily pushing her off of him. He got back onto his feet, cracking his neck back into place. 

“A god of blood.” 

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t enjoy draining the life out of that soldier.” Gaius said. He looked down at her, knowing full well she couldn’t. When she didn’t answer, he smiled.  “You’re scared. Angry. Confused. I understand.”

He knelt down in front of her. “But I chose you for a reason. I need someone like you.” He ran his thumb along her jaw. She jerked away from him. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

“Apologies, my queen.”

“And don’t call me that.” 

Gaius laughed. “I like you already.” 

//

Centuries later, when people asked her about it, Kamilah framed it as a sort of amusing story. The story of two perfectly matched people who had no idea what they’d come across yet. Centuries after that, long after Gaius was gone, she’d be at a business dinner or something of the sort attended by humans where there was always at least one happily married couple. Inevitably, the story of how the two of them got together would come up. It always made her heart thaw and ache, not because she was particularly prone to get emotional over that sort of thing, but because of how much it reminded her of the way she used to talk about him, which deeply alarmed her. 

The story of their love began with a deal. Kamilah didn’t want to be anywhere near Gaius. She wanted to run as far away as she could. She’d take her chances out in the desert. No, she’d feast upon the Romans, making her way all the way to their capitol, making the streets run red with blood. Gaius had other plans for her, of course.

She tried to point out the obvious to get him to let her go: she was a nomarch. Her men were all dead. People would go looking for her. Not to mention, she had no desire to go anywhere with Gaius. So, what do you intend to do? She demanded. Force me by your side until you break me?

“You reject what I have to offer before you you’ve experienced it.” Gaius replied. 

“I don’t want what you have to offer.” 

“You don’t want power? You don’t want to be respected?”

“I am respected.” 

“You’d be a vizier if not for your sex.” Gaius said. “Egypt still wouldn’t have been able to defeat the Romans under your counsel, but you wouldn’t be part of such a humiliating loss.”

“How dare you.”

“You don’t hold a deep love for your nation. You seek vengeance.” Gaius continued. “And I can give that to you.” 

“Not when you fight for the Romans, you can’t.” 

Gaius shook his head. “I don’t fight in human conflicts because I believe in their causes. I fight for my security. And as it stands, the Roman empire has offered me comforts that the Egyptians refused. But I’ve no true loyalty to their soldiers.”

Gaius let out a breath, moving away from Kamilah. “I know how it feels to lose somebody who means the world to you. Somebody who you can’t live without. And I take it that is what’s happened to you.” 

“You don’t know the first thing about me.” 

“Sorrow sings in your blood.” Gaius replied. “You seek to destroy those who destroyed whoever you lost.” He turned back to Kamilah. “I will give you what you want if you will give me what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?” 

“As I’ve said. A queen. Somebody by my side. Somebody who can fight alongside me. Somebody who can help me enact my vision of the world.”

“I’ve no interest in sharing a bed with you.”

“I never said that.” Gaius said. “But I’m not finished. I can give you what you want if you stand beside me. We can look for whoever took the person you love. You can do whatever it is you wish with him.”

“You’re trying to trick me.” 

“And what makes you so sure of that?”

“It’s an empty promise.” Kamilah said. “It’s a promise of searching, not of finding.”

“I don’t intend to trick you.” 

“And why should I believe that?” Kamilah said.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I always do.” 

“Then what will satisfy you?”

“A month.” Kamilah said, surprised by her certainty. “I will be by your side for a month. You will find me the man who killed my brother. If you can’t, I will leave, and you won’t stop me.”

“And if I do?” 

Kamilah let out a breath. “Then I will be your queen.” 

“Then you have a deal.”

//

It only took two weeks to find the man who killed Lysimachus. Perhaps Gaius was motivated to prove a point. Perhaps he only made the initial proposal because he knew it was a promise he could easily deliver. 

Lysimachus had been a general, which meant that his death was news amongst the Romans. It was a victory that a cunning and strategic man had been disposed of. The man that killed him boasted about it, which meant that he had a name, a face, a location. They expected he’d be in Alexandria, which would have complicated things, but no, he was stationed in an outpost several miles outside of the city, among a fleet of men holding off on as many Egyptian soldiers as they could. 

They dragged him out of his bed, deeper into the desert. He fought the entire way there, screaming and begging, tears running down his face, all whyareyoudoingthisimaninnocentmanimjustoneofoctavianssoldiersletmego.

Kamilah didn’t dignify it with a response. She always thought if she ever had the chance to kill the man who killed Lysimachus, she would tell him about the person whose life he snuffed out, how she grieved, how everything she’d done since then was building up to this moment. 

But this man no longer seemed like a being who changed her life. He was pathetic, ordinary. His entire life had been building up to this moment, the moment that she would kill him, and he was too stupid to realize it. 

She tore into his neck, blood splattering, making no attempt to preserve his life for any longer than necessary. She drank eagerly, hungrily as he thrashed against her. She bit harder into his flesh, tearing out his throat with her teeth, not caring that he would bleed out in less than a minute because of what she’d done. She didn’t want to give him a quick death, but she’d given him a painful death. And that was enough. 

When she was finished, she looked over at Gaius, who sat atop a dune, a smile on his face. Kamilah noticed that he smiled a lot in the last two weeks, but there were seemingly infinite reasons as to why he smiled. Sometimes, it was out of arrogance, of knowing he’d bested someone. Other times, it was out of thinly veiled annoyance. Other times, it was out of amusement. 

But this was out of pride. Proud of the creature he’d created. Proud of  being right about Kamilah. Proud of what they’d pulled off in two weeks.

Proud that he’d won. 

//

For the first three decades they shared together, they were partners, not lovers. He was her king, she was his queen, but what that really meant was that she was his second in command. His other progenies turned to her authority in Gaius’s absence. His other progenies bowed to both of them. 

They grew close. Of course they did. As time passed, she began to develop a fondness for Gaius she hadn’t expected. He was quick witted and sharp-tongued, charming when he needed to be. 

It was odd, the things he did that she found endearing. The way he’d always let her make the first kill, the way he began to select people to feed on based on what he discerned to be her taste, the way he was almost loving towards his victims, the way he told stories of battle, the way it changed depending on who he was talking to. He was braggadocios with most of his progeny. With her, he was detailed, once he figured out that she was more interested in strategy than glory. 

In the beginning, he was vague about his past, about who he was before he became what he was. But slowly, he began to reveal more and more about himself. Gaius told her the story of the one before him, the Goddess and Mother of All Vampires, Rheya. She’d been taken from him just as Lysimachus had been taken from Kamilah. He never wanted to discuss how it happened. He preferred to focus on her life, on who she was. 

“She was a force of nature.” Gaius told her once. “Not unlike you.” 

“Is that why you chose me? Because I remind you of her?”

“In a way.” Gaius said. “But it’s different. I stand beside you. I bowed before her.”

She knew it was something she couldn’t possibly understand, and she didn’t try to. From the way he described Rheya, she wasn’t his goddess the way Kamilah was his queen. Rheya was quite literally a goddess. Kamilah was never going to compete with that, and there was no reason to try. Though, part of her wondered why that had been her instinct, why the more he spoke of Rheya, the more she felt twinges of jealousy rearing their head. 

She wasn’t expecting the fondness she had for him to grow into something else entirely. It crept up on her in the right at the very end of their first thirty years together. 

They were back in the Roman empire. What began as a brief stint in Pompeii that ended in a hundred people dead and countless others whispering stories about demons cloaked in beauty who only came out at night festered into owing Tiberius several favors, which included assisting him in his conquest of Bohemia. 

Thirty years ago, Kamilah would have refused. She would have run, deal with Gaius be damned. But things had changed. She viewed human conflicts similarly to Gaius now; it wasn't about what was right. It was about what would guarantee their survival. An allegiance with the Roman Empire meant they could do whatever they pleased on most of the continent. 

Besides, Kamilah missed it. She was a skilled tactician as a human. With Gaius’s charisma and strength and her strategy, Bohemia would be Tiberius’s in no time. 

In the beginning, it was victory after victory. This was where she truly learned how to fight. Gaius gifted her with a set of daggers and taught her how to use them. They fought back to back on the battlefield, covered in the blood of their enemies. She often found herself taken with his visage in the moonlight, the glimmer in his eyes as he played with his prey. There was a strange part of her that almost wished he’d look at her like that—

It was a distraction, and she began to consciously pay as little attention to Gaius as possible when they fought alongside each other, save for the occasional glance in his direction to make sure he didn’t need backup. He never did. It was an excuse, really.  Kamilah knew that. 

Their only drawback was a group of Bohemians that kept slipping out of Gaius and Kamilah’s grasp. Their strategy was similar to that of Kamilah’s when she fought the Romans thirty years before. When they struck Roman fleets, they took no prisoners. They attacked supply drops, taking whatever they could for themselves. They moved constantly. They had an advantage that Kamilah didn’t all of those years ago: they were used to being outside, used to the elements. Unlike the Roman soldiers, they could endure the worst of nature’s ills, which was just as well, because it was the middle of winter. 

But she would destroy them, if only to prove that even they couldn’t best the roman empire. 

The idea came to Kamilah after she’d attempted to Turn a Roman soldier who was a particularly skilled fighter, an asset to their conquest. He’d been run through with a spear and was already dead by the time Kamilah found him. The Turning didn’t take. She had to stake him as soon as he emerged from the ground, his skin grey and cracked, his teeth long and jagged, his eyes glowing a sickly red. 

Gaius told her it happened sometimes. It wasn’t her fault. 

“But what happened to him?” 

“Turning a dead person is risky.” Gaius said. “Wait too long, they’ll emerge broken and hungry, shells of what they once were. All they’ll want to do is drink blood—any blood. Vampire or human.”

“But you could…” Kamilah trailed off. “You could do it intentionally. Couldn’t you?”

“What are you getting at?” 

“That one fleet…they’re tricky, slippery. We’ve spent weeks trying to get rid of them. But maybe we’ve been going about it all wrong.”

“Have we?”

“They’re trying to tire us out. Don’t you think? But if we…” 

“A surprise attack is a redundant suggestion, my queen.”

Kamilah rolled her eyes. “Not quite. We have to keep them in one place. Contained. Which means we need to create the illusion that we’ve given up. They’re going to overpower the other soldiers if we strike. But if we…if we made more of those things, set them lose on wherever they’ve settled…” 

“We’ll get rid of them.” Gaius finished. 

“And sunlight will take care of the rest.” 

He took her hand. 

“I love the way you think. Have I ever told you that, my queen?”

Kamilah smirked. “Plenty of times, my king.”

“Then I apologize for the redundancy. But I love the way you think.” 

The Romans didn’t ask questions when Gaius gave the order to gather as many of their dead as possible after a battle in which they’d nearly been overpowered. They hauled the bodies around in a caravan for a week, all the while trying to lull their target into a false sense of security. Kamilah and Gaius tracked them down to a village deep into Bohemia, far from where the Bohemians and the Romans waged most of their battles.

“It’s perfect.” Gaius said. “We’ll strike tomorrow night.”

And so, they returned to the bodies they gathered, doing the disgusting work of Turning fifty dead men. They buried them in the woods by the village in the cover of darkness. They waited, exhuming them and getting out of their way, watching as these feral vampires headed straight in the direction of fresh, human blood. 

It was a beautiful sight to behold, the chaos of it all. They sat atop a hill, Kamilah’s head resting against Gaius’s shoulder, watching as the ferals tore the village apart, watching as a fire broke out in the chaos, watching as not a single human was left away, watching as Rome’s victory over Bohemia was secured right before their very eyes. 

Gaius took Kamilah’s hand. “I never had any doubts about you.” He said. “But now, I’m certain. We were always meant to cross paths. I was always supposed to find you.” 

Kamilah rolled her eyes, mostly out of habit. “Are you going to tell me we were written in the stars?” 

“You mock me, but you know I’m right.” He gestured at the burning village below him. “You’re cunning in a way that I am not. We need each other. Or rather, I need you.” He laughed. “At this point, I’d be concerned if you switched allegiances. You might actually be able to beat me at my own game.” 

“You needn’t concern yourself with that.” Kamilah said. 

“I shouldn’t?”

“I find myself growing more and more devoted to you with each breath I draw.” 

“Do you, now?”

Before she could stop herself, she closed off the space between them, pressing her lips against his. He responded in kind, pulling her closer. He smiled against her mouth.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that?” He murmured.

“I think I can guess.” 

As the village below them burned, they were wrapped up in their own world, enveloped in one another. And just as much as he was hers, Kamilah realized, she was his.

[faulty-writes]

Thank for you previous answer ! The girls do deserve more attention 😔

Since your requests seems to be still open, may I please request something for Tenya and our favorite girlboss Mei dating a 1-A student who's a nepo baby and thus, their relationship being the subject of a lot of gossip ? (You write tenya really well I can't help myself but ask something for him)

I hope you're having a great week-end 😌

[ Ironically enough, Mei is my second favorite ship with Iida. The first would be Uraraka. Either way, this request sounds awesome! If you're familiar with My Hero Academia: Vigilantes, you'll recognize who the father of the "nepo baby" reader is. If you haven't read that manga, I suggest doing so because it is amazing. ]

Who could have imagined years and years after your father visited Japan, you'd make the choice to enroll at Yuuei. Of course, being from America and the child of the Playboy Hero: Captain Celebrity was a big deal.

From the start, you recalled how others stared at you. Bewildered at your existence. Well, all except one. "Hello!" he bellowed out, chopping his hand through the air. "My name is Tenya Iida. I am very honored to have a student of such high status join us at this prestigious learning establishment!"

You hated that your father's playboy reputation followed you, unlike him you preferred to remain loyal to the one you loved. Of course, this didn't stop rumors from starting the moment everyone found out that you and Tenya were dating. "I suppose that is rather troubling, but I do not believe rumors are made in just," Part of you wanted to know how long that perspective would last.

"Pardon, please step away from Y/n," he said, clenching his fists by his sides and staring daggers at Neito who had pinned you against the wall. "Oh, come now, they were flirting with me! And rumor has it they have a bit of a crush on me, heh. Perhaps you're too ordinary for them, after all as a bit of a celebrity baby myself, I think Y/n and I would make the perfect couple," Tenya naturally became infuriated with those words and explained the wrongs Neito had committed before politely dragging you away.

"It's somewhat disheartening to know our relationship has garnered so much attention," he stated, tapping his chin as he looked outside at the group of paparazzi. "It's not so bad once you get used to it kid!" your father, otherwise known as Captain Celebrity said, slapping Tenya on the shoulder with a bright smile. "Forgive me," he replied, shrugging your father's hand off. "But I do not wish to make Y/n go through such complications," although part of him hated the rumors that continued to circulate about your relationship.

"I...I am not quite sure how to respond to...such a thing," Tenya stated, looking at his phone. There was an article published with a picture of you and him. He was wearing his Ingenium suit with his arm wrapped around you, but it appeared as though you were in some weird love triangle because you were also holding onto Deku's hand. You frowned when you noticed the title of the article, 'Celebrity Student Love Affairs.'

Gossip was strenuous, to say the least, and you were more than certain Tenya would end your relationship due to the unwanted attention. But as usual, he used logic to make it work. "Perhaps this is but a taste of the inner workings of a hero's life. I am well aware that you are rather...famous in your own regard and I...I am quite honored to be with you and our romantic endeavor regardless of the challenges it presents," sometimes you wondered if he'd make a better poet than a hero student.

Mei was the bubbliest girl you had ever met, and when she found out you were a celebrity baby. Well, she took advantage of it as she often did with others if it meant her inventions, or "babies" as she called them, got attention. In the words of Shota Aizawa, "She's a born saleswoman" and boy did she sell you right into a relationship.

"Oh, try this on! It's baby number 5706!" she exclaimed excitedly with that bright smile that made your heart race. "Now strike a pose!" she demanded, holding her phone up. "Once they see my babies are used by a celebrity baby, there'll be no stopping the businesses that will contact me!" While you were happy to help Mei become more recognized, you had your hopes you were more than just an advertisement opportunity for her.

Mei was rarely serious, but when you brought up your suspicions that she was using your "relationship" to boost her ego for the first time you saw her frown. "Don't get me wrong, my babies are super important to me! And it's good to have someone in the spotlight to advertise them! But...you're my ultimate baby!"

"Yeah, I swear man! Y/n flirted with me yesterday!" Hanta announced, purposely allowing Mei to overhear. But she was either too busy with her current invention to bother or she was ignoring him. "Hey Hatsume!" he called, "How do you feel about that!?" She paused and turned to look at him with a smile. "Sorry, what was your name again?" she honestly didn't care about the rumors and even if you were flirting, she'd figure out a way to keep your heart. After all, she wasn't one to easily give up.

She handled the paparazzi pretty well or at least better than you imagined. In fact, she took the opportunity to hold you close and do just about anything publicly acceptable to show her affection for you. She also answered any curious questions or rumors about your relationship and what it was like to date the child of famous celebrity heroes. It all boiled down to her accepting you for who you were rather than your predetermined title as a celebrity baby.

She was strangely protective of you, especially when you invited her to high-class events that your parents attended. "That's the power of my latest baby!" She announced after successfully crushing the lens of a paparazzi member's camera who had tried to take scandalous pictures of you with someone else. They got frightened away and Mei proceeded to hold you close for the rest of the night.

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

Writing explicit material about an aged up character is NOT it. Wednesday is a minor in the show, aging her up in your fanfiction doesn’t make it any less creepy. You even state in your writing that Wednesdays attraction develops WHILE SHE IS STILL A MINOR IN SCHOOL. The original attraction came from a child’s mind, do you not see how that’s wrong? Aging characters up just to ship them with adults is disgusting and writing sexual content about it is even worse. If you wanted to write about stuff like this I would’ve suggested making OC’s and not using already made characters that have a fandom surrounding them. That would’ve stopped some of the backlash and made it a little less creepy. Genuinely hope you see how this is wrong, please stop, thank you.

hi! i suggest you don't read stories you find upsetting! there's plenty of other fics to read, both mine and written by other people.

i also it's sweet you think an anonymous message will make me see the error of my Immoral ways. also are you suggesting it would be better if i wrote a fic with a different minor that grows up and then has a relationship with a former teacher? i don't understand what exactly you mean and how that would, in your book, be better than this lol. also, i don't know if you're aware but all adults you know were once, in fact, minors.

i know this isn't a message in good faith, and that nothing i say will change your mind. that's alright. nothing you say will change mine, either! i will write what i want and how i want it. you are welcome not to read it and say, well, not for me, moving on.

however, since you were so free to give me a friendly suggestion to Stop It, i will be so free to suggest you give stories that make you uncomfortable a go. the Immorality will not, in fact, rub off on you. i do think it's some of my best work writing wise, and i think the quality of it is pretty decent. there are even Themes and Motifs, and believe it or not it isn't porn (there is one smutty chapter out of fourteen and that's it). you could read it and try to articulate which parts of the story make you uncomfortable. you could try to read it as purely a piece of fiction, a story (which it is), without attaching a moral judgement to it -- perhaps try putting yourself in the shoes of the characters, or perhaps even the author, and try seeing how and why someone would write a story about very unusual, particular people who find each other, despite all odds. you could perhaps even ponder the concept of the "immoral" nature of their relationship being a metaphor for any unconventional relationship. after you do all of that, if you still feel uncomfortable, that's perfectly alright! i think some fiction is meant to make people uncomfortable, and it is a valuable skill to be able to approach it analytically and pinpoint exactly what doesn't sit right with you -- that, unfortunately, requires reading the work in good faith.

i will always encourage meaningful critique of my work! however, just some anonymous rando coming up to me and saying "this is WRONG!!!" will do precisely nothing.

you've spoken your piece, but if you continue to pester me with similar messages you will be blocked! have a nice day!