#ry watches trash

[yan-lorkai]

Haiii can I request some hcs or a small fic of Ruggie with a reader who’s very socially awkward (basically like bocchi if you know the show) but has a very obvious puppy crush on him?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I honestly was saving this rq because I wanted to watch Bocchi first since you mentioned it. And I was not disappointed, though I'm still in ep5 I already love them all. Reader in this is pretty much Bocchi coded.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, reader stutter and overthink quite a lot here, very soft Ruggie + nicknames ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

You can do it, you are capable! You repeated to yourself in front of the mirror for the tenth time that day, determined to do something you'd never done before: have a whole conversation with Ruggie.

It was something extremely small and simple, and other people would judge it as a somewhat foolish wish. But other people didn't have social phobia, they didn't get scared or panicked or feel like thousands of eyes were on them, other people didn't live in your shoes to understand what you went through on a daily basis. But for Ruggie, it was worth trying to overcome your fears, he was worth it even if it drained you immensely to be in the epicenter of the hurricane (in the middle of a bunch of people), feeling as if everyone was looking and laughing at you.

In the mirror a small smile adorned your face. Everything will be fine!

You left your room with confident steps, after all spending time with Ruggie always made you confident as if nothing in the world could bring you down or go wrong. On you, he had this kind of effect. In addition to being calming for your ever-so-anxious mind. Being with him was like playing your guitar, it was natural, comfy even.

You have yet to play the guitar to him as he had asked if he could hear you when he found out you could play. You were already imagining playing alongside him. What you were imagining made you happy, even when you bumped into someone else and apologized, awkwardly, embarrassed by your clumsiness.

Though when you did find him, Ruggie was talking with Leona, the atmosphere seemed tense, as if they were discussing something serious. Or your mind was only creating yet another unprovable scenario, as usual, though even if that's was the case you were already trembling subtly, as a kitten learning how to walk.

Despite being on good terms with him, you couldn't shake off the feeling that Leona didn't wanted you there. Were he staring at you- no, he wasn't. He was still talking with Ruggie, Leona's tail wagging lazily behind him while Ruggie crossed his arms close to his chest. Could you come closer? Or should you go back to your room? Would they mind if you were there?

Maybe you should hide inside a trash can as you usually did whenever you felt overwhelmed and need to escape quickly. Though unfortunately there wasn't any trash can, looking around there aren't any visible dark, tiny places to hide in either. You audibly gulped, paralyzed, the seconds seemed to be passing by agonizingly slow.

'Maybe I should turn around and run', you thought to yourself. But your feet didn't move it.

A soft hand landed on your shoulder and you jumped, a whine leaving your lips as you raised your eyes to see who that hand belonged to. It belonged to Ruggie, his beautiful eyes looking right at yours as he seemed to know what you were thinking and was silently telling you not to worry.

"There you go again, you troublesome kitten," He teased you affectionately and quickly added. "Inhale through the mouth, exhale through the nose. Slowly."

You frowned and then realized how much your heart was racing and you could feel the familiar tightness in your chest. Your mind racing with thoughts of whether you're intruding or if they even want you there. And you followed his commands, slowly, so slowly.

'You look pathetic,' A voice in your head told you. So worked up just because of an assumption, so afraid of everything. 'Pathetic.'

"H-hey, um... sor-ry to bother and interrupt you two, ah, I can, like, go away if you want." You mumbled sofly, but truly you were whispering, your voice as low and weak as possible, as you looked at the floor which seemed more interesting than whatever expression the duo was doing.

'They must be thinking ho-' That annoying voice was interrupted by Ruggie's heavenly voice and his hand that grounds you there.

"Don't worry your pretty head too much, we were just talking about the last spelldrive game." He explained, ears twitching as his hand remained on your shoulder, giving you his silent support as you breathed till you were calm again.

Despite your social anxiety urging you to turn back and hide in your room with this failure of an attempt, you mustered up the necessary courage to stay, a tired little smile growing on your lips as you looked at him. At his very green eyes that looked like a beautiful forest.

You still felt as prey surrounded by predators. You still felt as if they were ready to pounce on you and tear you apart. But you knew it was not truth, it couldn't be. Ruggie would never hurt anyo- uh, nevermind, anyways he wouldn't hurt you. You knew this much, you trusted him without a doubt.

Ruggie offered you a reassuring smile. And his lovely eyes made you weak in the knees, your heart beating like crazy inside your chest as you maintained prolonged eye contact with him. All your words forgotten, all your thoughts quietened for a moment. Very distantly you could hear Leona's soft laughter at how you looked at Ruggie without realizing your eyes were shining and a dumb smile was on your lips.

Leona coughed to caught Ruggie's attention back. You too looked at him and his expression was still inflexible but he nodded in your direction as if to welcome you when he noticed you staring. "We were discussing some strategies, herbivore. The last game was lacking."

Oh, spelldrive. You didn't know much about it but even if you did, maybe you wouldn't be able to express your thoughts properly. The courtyard was crowded, people walking and talking and all around you. You took a deep breath again, so far everything was good... Right?

"We should change our tactics." Ruggie said, quite uninteresting with the topic. You could see his little tail wagging behind his back, lazily while he explained his point. He could talk for hours about anything and you would still have a smile on your face while you heard him. It was a tranquil, soft sound, like a bird singing every morning.

"Shishishi, look at you!" His calloused hands cupped your face and you realized you were daydreaming again. Your whole face was warm as fire when you noticed how close he was. "Lost in your head, kitten? Didn't even said a word." He teased a little.

"I, uh, I..." What should you say? That you just wanted to spend some time with him? Was that a good enough reason? But what if he thinks you're weird? What if he thinks you are so weird that he doesn't want to be friends with you anymore? Worse... What if he found out that you had a crush on him?

Geez, you don't even want to think about it. If you had time to thought then you knew that only negative thoughts would live there.

Take a deep breath, it's okay to feel nervous. You told yourself, but his eyes were so mesmerizing, so beautiful that you quickly got lost inside them. Being genuine and honest is usually the best approach. Don't think, just speak. You got this!

"Well... I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you. You're a great person to be around, and I was hoping we could hang out more often. I know it might sound a bit random, but I value our friendship and I wanted to be honest about how I feel." You said, your whole burning while you fought against your anxiety and stood your ground.

Any other day you would have ran away or just not say everything out loud but you had made a promise with yourself and you were going to stay true to it. You wanted to overcome your shyness and anxiety, you wanted to be able to talk and laugh without worrying about anything. And Ruggie was quite happy with what you said, you realized. He was happy, not angry.

He petted your head and smiled. "Good work, it was hard to say this out loud, wasn't it? I'm proud of you."

Right at that instant you felt an enormous weight getting out of your shoulders. He was proud of you! He was not weirded out by you. A big sigh left your throat as you enjoyed the affection he gave you.

Maybe you should get out of your comfort zone more times.

[vodika-vibes]

Throwing this thought at you like a paper airplane after I saw the corri dating pole, admittedly the first clone I felt in love with was Rys right off the bat from episode one. The smooth personality and tattoos got me like a bear trap immediately, then there was the hair and the color scheme and the way he was just toteing around a heavy ass rocket launcher the whole episode. I was also 16 when I first watched that episode and I do not digress, he’s still fine af. Uhg, he’s just so cute.

We Belong Together

Summary: You have your eyes set on a boy. And not just any boy, but Rys, a member of the Guard. A surprise power outage from an even more surprise storm gives you a chance.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Rys x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1805

Warnings: None

A/N: I had so many ideas for this, but this is the one that I eventually settled on. I hope you like it!

“You’re staring.”

You don’t pull your gaze away from Rys, even when your friend elbows you roughly. “I’m not staring. I’m…admiring.”

“Yeah. Which translates to staring.” 

You finally pull your gaze away from Rys and glare at your friend, “He’s gorgeous and I love him.”

“Girl, you don’t even know him. Maybe he’s a prick.”

“He’s not.”

“Why, because your imagination says so?”

You huff and fold your arms over your chest, “Because he’s nothing but polite when I talk to him.”

“Oh, so you’ve talked to him before?”

At that, your face burns, “I…well…”

“Ah, he comes to you for tech support.” Your friend has a slightly smug smile on her face, and you pout at her and look away.

“It’s…a start.”

“Oh, yes. Everyone knows that all of the greatest love stories start when one part doesn’t even know that the other one exists.” She teases, and then she drapes an arm over your shoulder and hugs you lightly, “Maybe you should set your sights on someone who actually knows you exist.”

You shoot her a dirty look.

“You know…like that nice man at the shipping store?”

“You mean the one that smells like rotting meat?”

“Well—”

“Thanks but no thanks,” You scrunch up your nose at the thought, “I’m done with lunch and heading back to my office, you?”

“Mm, I have an extended lunch today since I’m staying late this evening. I’ll see you later, though.” She turns back to her lunch and you shake your head, though you push out of your seat and throw your trash away before you slip out of the cafeteria and head towards the stairs that will take you to your office.

You could take the lift, probably, but the last thing you want is to end up on the lift with some snooty senators.

They always say the same things, “Is that your natural hair color?” No. Humans aren’t born with rainbow hair. “Are those tattoos permanent?” Yes, tattoos generally are. “Are those face piercings religious?” No, they just look pretty.

Honestly, with few exceptions, the Senators are so annoying.

You head down the four flights of stairs and then push open the door leading to your level, and you have to side-step a group of senator aides who seem to think that they own the Senate building, before you key in the code to your office door and head back into your office.

“I’m back!” You call to the office, but there’s no response. There never is.

You work alone, after all.

An almost silent sigh falls from your lips, and you reach over to flip the lights on, only for a light in the back of your office to flicker, and go out.

A second, louder, sigh falls from your lips.

“You should work for the senate,” You mutter under your breath, mocking your old guidance counselor, “They need an IT person, and it’s high paying. Just like you require.” You climb onto a spare desk and pop the lid off the light, and scowl at the dead bulb, “I might be high-paid, but this place sucks.”

You are, after all, required to do your own maintenance.

About fifteen minutes later, the door to your office slides open. You don’t look away from where you’re, carefully, trying to maneuver the light into place. “I’ll be right with you.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then heavy steps, “Do you need any help?” The voice is familiar in the way that all of the clones' voices are familiar, and you spare him a glance over your shoulder.

It’s Rys.

For a moment you just blink at him in bewilderment, and then you shake your head, “Ah, it’s nice of you to offer, but I’m almost done.” You slide the new bulb into place, secure it there, and let out a triumphant noise as the light comes back on. “There! Perfect!”

You swiftly pop the covering back into place, and then climb off the table so you’re standing in front of Rys, “Sorry about that! How can I help you?”

He stares at you for a moment, and then offers you his datapad, “It stopped working.”

You take the small device and open your mouth to ask what happened, exactly, though you’re cut off by a low, deep, rumble from outside the building. And then there’s a loud crack that makes you jump, and the entire room goes dark.

The room remains dark for about thirty seconds before the backup generators kick on and the room is lit by eerie red lights.

“Well, that’s not ideal,” You murmur as you move to your desk and set the datapad in your hand on the edge.

“No, it’s not.” You turn to look at Rys, who’s frowning at his comm, “The Commander says to shelter in place until they figure out why the power is out.” He moves to an open chair and drops into it, kicking his feet up on an empty desk.

Well, you’re not going to complain about being stuck in a room with the man you’ve been crushing on for months, so you drop into your chair as well, and then dig around your desk to pull out a deck of cards, “Wanna play?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Two hours later, the senate building is still running on emergency generators, and you and Rys have long since moved away from Sabbac to just chatting with each other.

He’s removed the top part of his armor and is sitting on the floor next to you, taking turns throwing the cards across the room into a box.

“So, I have to ask,” Rys says after a moment, “How does someone like you end up working here, of all places?”

“Someone like me?” You repeat with a laugh.

“You definitely don’t look like you should work at the senate,” He points out, as he lightly tugs on a strand of your hair.

“That’s fair,” You agree, “I was encouraged to apply here after college, they hired me sight unseen.” You shrug, “And I’m good enough that they look the other way when it comes to the dye and piercings.”

“Well, I’m glad.”

You glance at him, but he’s not looking at you, “Well, me too. I wouldn’t like to be jobless.”

He glances at you, and his smile is one you’ve never seen aimed at you before, “I just meant that you add some color to a pretty dreary place. Plus, I can always pick you out of a crowd.”

“Why would you need to pick me out of a crowd?” You ask, genuinely confused.

He throws another card into the box and you frown at the box, wondering if you should move it further away, “No reason,” Rys replies quickly, “And if my brothers ever tell you anything different you need to know that they’re all horrible liars.”

You laugh and lean against the wall, “Okay, so what would they tell me?”

He still won’t look at you, “They’d probably say something along the lines of me having a crush on you.”

You blink at him, having not expected those words to come out of his mouth, “But, since your brothers are liars,” You say slowly, “It’s not true.” You fold your arms, “Huh, that’s a shame.”

His head snaps towards you fast enough that you genuinely worry about his neck, “What’s a shame?”

“Oh, well,” You shrug, almost nonchalantly, “If you did have a thing for me, we could have tried seeing how we were together, but since you’re not—” You shrug again, and then place your hands on the ground to propel yourself to your feet to collect the cards from the floor and the box.

You don’t manage to get to your feet.

Rys’ hand wraps around your wrist and he tugs you so that you topple over onto his lap, and then his lips are against yours. You adjust yourself so that you’re straddling one of his thighs, and your arms snake around his neck so you’re able to play with the hair at the base of his neck, as you kiss him back, just as enthusiastically. 

For someone who, you assume, has never kissed anyone before, Rys is a really good kisser. Or, maybe, all of the people you’ve ever kissed before have just been really bad.

Either way, he’s a very enthusiastic kisser, angling his head so he’s able to deepen the kiss without forcing you to stretch, his tongue sliding against the seam of your lips, and then against your own.

And the kiss only breaks when the lights overhead flicker back on.

His hand moves to your cheek, and he has a very small, very smug, grin playing on his lips as he adjusts you so that he can press his forehead against yours. 

“You’re really good at that,” You say, slightly breathlessly.

His smile becomes even more smug, “I must be a natural then.”

“Must be,” You agree, leaning in so you can brush your lips against his, and he tilts his head back slightly so he can catch your lips in a proper kiss, only to have to stop when his comm chimes.

There’s a glimmer of annoyance on his handsome face, but he grabs his comm and reads the message on it. And then his head thumps back against the wall.

“Time to go back to work?” You ask, sympathetic, even as your fingers move to the tattoo on his jaw and you trace the shape lightly. 

His gaze lingers on your face for a moment, “Unfortunately. If I don’t go, the Commander will come and look for me.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” You joke lightly, already moving to get off of him, though his hands tightly grip your hip, as though he’s not ready to let you go.

You grin at him, kiss him quickly, and then slip off his lap. “You know,” You muse thoughtfully as he gets to his feet and starts pulling his armor back on, “There’s a nice little restaurant not far from my place, delivery or pick up only.”

“That right?”

“Mm, they have really nice food,” You continue, “If you wanted to come around to my place after work?”

His fingers fumble on the latch to his armor, and his gaze locks with yours as a wide grin crosses his face, “It’d take an act of god to keep me away.”

You grin right back at him, “It’s a date then.”

Rys finishes strapping on his armor, and then lightly taps your chin with two fingers, “I can’t wait.” He drops a kiss on your cheek, and then he’s gone, back to work.

And you’re left to try not to erupt into elated giggles as excitement wells inside you.

You’ve never been so happy in your life.

@imabeautifulbutterfly @n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Can I request a racer Ran x Fem reader!!!

BTW you are awesome

Thanks so much! I can do this for ya!

Flip 'Em: Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 935

tw: none

masterlist

The smell of burning rubber and the roar of motorcycles in the distance are familiar to you - like background noise.

"Do you ever get annoyed by the sound of those things?" You stop peering through your binoculars to spare a glance at the bimbo beside you. She'd been hustled into coming to this by one of her on-again-off-again flings; that's all you knew about her from the brief conversation you caught on the way in.

"You'll get used to it." If you're around for more than a month. You turn around to look at the other women in the crowded suite just to see if any of them were looking your way. But they all seem to be too busy chatting based on the casual way they're standing, champagne glasses filled to the brim and mouth filled with gossip.

"Do you come here often?" What really miffs you about this lingering gnat is that she doesn't stop talking. Especially to you. You want to wave your hand at the other wives in the room and urge them to come scoop their lost puppy up but part of you feels guilty that she has no friends.

Doesn't mean I have to be her friend.

"Listen," you mutter, placing your binoculars back up to your eyes. "You should go find someone else to talk to."

"W-why?" You hear the whimper in her voice, but that only serves to irritate you more. Before you can reply, you hear a voice behind you call out your name.

"Mrs. Haitani," the host announces, walking toward you with a small flip phone. You hold it up to your ear and look down at the track. You can barely see Ran from here, but you can hear his labored breathing on the other end.

"You okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine; I was just checking in on you. Are the girls behaving?"

You spare a glance at the bimbo still standing beside you; her eyes are wide now that she knows who you are. "For the most part."

"Let me know if I need to set anyone straight," Ran murmurs and you chuckle, imagining him tossing his helmet to the pit crew and storming up to the suites with his signature blank face. "Can't wait to take a fat nap after this."

"I'll make sure the driver gets here right on time."

"No press, no pictures, nothing. I want to sleep as soon as I get off this track." Ran vanity would never let him avoid the press and cameras and opportunities to flaunt his status. But you nod as if he can see you and reply,

"I hear you, handsome."

"I love you."

"Love you most."

"Impossible." And the line hangs up. You hand the phone back to the suited man and watch the race begin, your eyes straining to see the black and blonde hair in the mass of racers. Lane 6, you mentally note, then lower your binoculars. The other women have crowded around the television, keen on only catching the first parts of the race so they can say they "watched" it. In reality, they would watch the first ten minutes of the race and then disperse two-by-two, finding spots where they can sit and talk trash about rival drivers.

You, however, stay standing at the glass window, watching the crowd erupt in excitement as the race begins. The other ladies have culled the bimbo to them, holdin her nearby as to initiate her into the "ways of racer wife-ry" despite her behind an obvious flavor of the month and not the newest addition to the bunch. She would guest star for about three shows and then disappear with the others. You'd seen them all come and go; this was no different.

"She's one of the original five," you catch someone whispering loudly. "I wouldn't mess around with her." The Original five. They meant Mikey's long time fiancée, Izana's girlfriend, Shinichiro's wife, Draken's wife - Emma - and you. Of the four of you, only Mikey's wife and you were left in the rat race. Racing was tiresome, drained your energy and the time you spent as a family... No one wonder it would eat the other three alive and drive them to make their significant others drop the whole charade and come home.

Ran races by on his second lap, his braids blowing in the wind. You don't clap and cheer eagerly like other, less knowledgeable girls do. You just stay stoic. The race isn't even close to being over. Why would you celebrate?

But as the competition goes from one clear winner to neck and neck, your interest peaks. Ran's been stuck in second place, but a tight loop around the track places him a few feet ahead of the former first-place winner.

You smirk with pride, holding your binoculars in a vice-like grip as the race comes to it's tight end. Shouts of outrage and jubilation erupt around you as Ran crosses the finish line first, followed impossibly close by his contender. You don't partake in the celebrations, though. You just make your way out of the suite and down the stairs to meet him at the finish line.

Ran's already waiting for you with his arms out, planting a long kiss on your lips and holding you close. "Did the girls cry about it?" he jokes in your ear.

"If they did, I wasn't watching." Ran laughs and gives you another big kiss, then raises his middle finger in the direction of the women still watching in the suite.

"Let 'em get a mouthful of that."

[syncogon]

[QZGS TL] season 3 episode 3 onscreen text

for fun i did some quick translations of onscreen text during this episode that wasn't translated in subtitles.

these are very jank and subject to inaccuracy. read at your own risk.

beginning of the ep, weibo posts after samsara defeats blue rain in round 1:

[#team samsara wins first!# topic summary: samsara wins the first round of the glory playoffs]

big bro likes eating meat: "samsara only won one round, what's there to be smug about, waiting for blue rain three championships"

ry-lord one: "god damn, ywz this round was worse than garbage"

lord sassy: "this big victory might have some downsides, too high a starting point can lead to national viewers unable to bear samsara's next failure"

ry-lord one: "magic, last year played so desperately and still only got two runner-ups"

pour a cup for auntie: "he who laughs last laughs best"

zzk's beef meatballs: "hot take: if zzk these past two years had yq's scores wouldn't he be glory's number one"

glory little yellowfur: "this time hst straight-up bombed his own reviews"

little master berserker: "summarizing hst's trash talk these past few years"

flower flower: "i always felt that jbt and ywz are at the same level"

happiness is today: "samsara's victory represents a story with a happy ending"

not playing games only swiping card: "thought about it overnight, feel that samsara winning the championship is both reasonable and ridiculous"

zzk's beef meatballs: "why is everyone so excited about samsara winning? as someone who's watched glory matches for several years now, i have the authority to answer this question."

ya_5456778: 👎 .jpg

stgl-teeheehee: "samsara's s8 championship victory explodes on hot search, alliance official account issues congratulations (reply for 30 prestige)"

flower-distance: "why zzk is a god, first of all…"

if you're like me: "everyone's cursing samsara, everyone wants to be samsara"

........

speech bubbles during the in-game samsara vs blue rain conflicts:

"samsara is too arrogant!"

"y'all are just jealous!"

"panic, panic! they're panicked!"

"little kid, go home and do your homework!"

"you guys are just pathetic!"

"with your attitude, you blue rain fans shouldn't be playing games, go shower and go to bed!"

"samsara loves pretending!"

"blue rain fans don't show your shamelessness any more!"

"just love seeing you guys upset and inferior like this!"

.......

weibo posts shown in the ending theme:

"samsara's tacit cooperation is too incredible! zhou zekai's skill matched with jiang botao's talent, their performance is so eye-catching, their continual reliability earns everyone's trust!" "zhou zekai is invincible, jiang botao is flawless!"

"these two years after samsara gained jiang botao, it's truly a tiger gaining wings! team samsara sing out!"

"samsara is defying the heavens! sharpshooter, jiang botao's spellblade, and blade master are all first rate esports players, their coordination is brilliant, added on to the entire team's battle power, it's truly unrivaled!" "samsara is simply THE most eyecatching team! theres no other!"

"zhou zekai and jiang botao's show of power ahhh! the details of their controls are perfectly matched, their power can't be underestimated!"

[phoenixrising0308]

The day I watched you marry someone else.

Books: The Royal Romance Book 3

Rating: M (Mature content and implied sexual activities)

Pairing: Liam & Jessica (MC)

The Arrangement -  This is the story of how Liam Rys and Jessica Garcia enter a Cordonian arrangement. This is a 4 chapter story arc and fits into a story in between called the Promise, which is in the Agent Phoenix A/U. 

Detailed disclaimer

Triggers: none identified by the author

Chapter Summary: Jessica's POV of the wedding

A/N: This is reposting an original chapter released in 2019/2020 under a previous blog name with new added content sprinkled in.  Im sorry it took so long to get back into the writing space life has been heavy.

Song Inspiration: The Arrangement Playlist

Word Count: 2,500 *As always, forgive my typos and grammatical errors*

New York, One week prior...

Liam walked Jessica back to her hotel room and wiped away her tears.

“He just slipped away; we just missed him.” Jessica cried out on Liam’s shoulder.

“We will find him; this isn’t over for us. It will never be over for us.”

“I don’t know what I want to do, Liam. I can’t walk away from you.”

The tears he held back, trying to be strong, started streaming down his face. They rested their heads against each other. 

“I am expected at the wedding. I don’t know if I can sit there and watch you marry someone else. Maxwell and Bertrand did so much for me and I can’t have them look even worse by not showing my face. I need to think. But I’m not getting on that plane with the rest of the court. I don’t know what happens after that, I don’t know if I can enter into a Cordonian arrangement.”

I don’t know what to say. But if you come back and want to stay, we can solve this together.  Will you wait for me?

—

Ramsford - Jessica’s room

Liam’s Wedding day

 Everyone was in a frenzy trying to get ready. Jessica sat in a daze as the letter she read, hand-delivered to her by a footman in familiar cursive writing. When she finished she let it fall to the floor.

Lady Jessica, you should know that I have invoked on behalf of the Crown prince ‘Sex primis noctibus’ or the first six nights. As Cordonian tradition dictates, the King is to be in close quarters with the Queen with no outside interruptions to get familiar with each other and bed each other for six consecutive nights in hopes that they can produce an heir. In fact, the wedding date is chosen based on the future Queen's fertile window. Liam might love you but he loves his country more. I encourage you to move on and have your sponsor find you a respectable match and marry or return to the states before you waste any more time chasing a dream that simply can not be. There has never been a divorce or annulment in the history of the Rys line of succession, and we have held the throne for a century.

-Constantine Rys 

It would be the first royal wedding in Cordonia since Constantine married Regina. But this was a larger affair. It would be a first marriage, and that hasn’t happened in decades. The last time it did was Constantine’s marriage to Leo’s mother.

Maxwell picked up the letter and briefly read it; he crumpled it up in disgust and threw it in the trash before returning to her side and lovingly combing her hair. “I’m so sorry, blossom. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Jessica held Maxwell’s hand stopping him and putting the brush down. “Me too.” He took her in his arms and they cried. 

Bertrand walked into the room with a large box and said, “Maxwell, I would like to have a word with Lady Jessica.”

Bertrand took Maxwell’s place in front of Jessica and said, “This will be a very difficult day. I thank you for doing this for us. You could have easily stayed in New York, but you came. Should you want to make a life for yourself, allow me to offer you my assistance. You are to stay here as long as you want. You are our sister, this home is yours as well to make use of. But it is my duty to inform you that a suitor has approached me and asked if you would consider a proposal.”

Jessica blinked her tears away in surprise at that before speaking again. “Thank you, Bertrand. But I don’t think I’m ready for anything. I know that it is your custom to arrange a match for a lady of your house, but would it be out of the ordinary if I don’t want to be married?”

“Jessica, it is your choice. I just don’t know how to mend a broken heart. I just thought since you came here to be wed that perhaps that could help.”

Jessica gave Bertrand a half-smile. “I came here for Liam.”

“Jessica, as you know, we have no lady of the house, and surely when I marry Savannah, I would like to commission something for her, but what I am giving you is a gift. You helped me find her, and connect with her and our son, and I could never thank you enough, but I hope this is a start.”

Bertrand placed the box on Jessica’s lap. “It would mean the world to me and Maxwell if you wore this and perhaps you can channel the strength of its owner.”

Jessica opened up the box and gasped, “Bertrand, do you mean it? I can surely wear it and give it back.”

“Maxwell and I insist. This is yours to have. We can offer you our name and our protection and we have given you our mother's ring but one thing remains that should be yours. As you know, a hat is customary at court functions when not at a gala. I was not always kind to you, yet you stood by us. Your loyalty was unwavering even after I doubted your ability to be a suitor. Please accept this as a gift as a sign of our gratitude and a welcoming gift to joining our house.”

Jessica pulled out the light blue fascinator hat with a birdcage veil; made of sinamay material that glimmered in the sun-like diamond dust. 

"Maxwell tells me you favor hats, and well, this was my mother's pride and joy. It serves no purpose locked away in a closet when it should go to an owner that wears it when called upon."

Jessica was awestruck as she softly asked, “This belonged to Duchess Annabelle?”

“Yes, it belonged to our mother. The world will be looking at you today, the press will look for you to crumble. They think you are alone, that you have lost, but in this, you have gained family and friends. We are better people because you walked into our lives. Jessica, you surprised me time and time again. Liam told me you were his choice. Had it not been for his father’s interference and the loyalist on the royal council, this would be your day.”

Jessica placed the fascinator on her head and said, “It certainly is beautiful. I will wear it with pride. Thank you.”

Bertrand’s lips trembled as he fought back his tears and said, “You honor this house regardless of title or status. Lady Jessica Garcia Beaumont”

Jessica looked at herself in the mirror as she placed the fascinator on her head and sighed deeply, trying not to cry again.

Bertrand gave her a soft smile and said, “Tungsten… impact strength determines how much energy a metal can absorb. Tungsten can hold the highest temperature even in a forge; its melting point is the highest of any element; it will not shatter or be broken. That's why all the items in our armory are made of it. This house is your shield. When you look at yourself, remind yourself of your resilience and strength. That will get you through this painful ordeal.”

—

Royal Cordonian Abbey

Jessica stepped into the Abbey dressed in the house colors of the Beaumonts. She wore an off-the-shoulder knee-length dress that coordinated perfectly with the late Duchess Annabelle’s hat. She held her head high as people snickered at her, but she walked with grace and class paying no mind to the hurtful remarks people whispered as she passed by. Reporters attempted to get her to comment and she declined to give a statement. She took her place in the pew next to Hana. 

Hana said, “My mother wanted me to sit next to the other ladies of the court, but my friend needs me more.” Hana took Jessica’s hand and squeezed it.

Olivia entered and was directed to a pew. “I will choose my own seat. I wish to sit next to Lady Hana and Lady Jessica, should the Queen take issue with it then so be it.” Olivia took her seat next to Jessica.

Jessica said, “Thank you, Olivia.”  

Olivia quirked a brow and said, “Why are you thanking me?”

Jessica lowered her gaze. “People hate me and you have enough problems. You could have sat anywhere and yet you sat next to me.” 

Olivia smirked. “I hate the word friend you know, but there is something that can be said about sitting next to someone with the courage you have shown throughout this. You have my respect.” 

Jessica smiled, “And you have mine.”

Olivia said, “Please know Liam opted for the Abbey as he said the Cathedral before God is reserved for his marriage to you. He won’t give up until that crown is on your head.” 

Jessica whispered, “I just want to marry him. Sure, being a Queen would be amazing, but being his wife... That’s all I’m concerned about. I would marry him anywhere and not care how fancy it is.”

20 minutes later…

Madeleine’s assistant walked over to the pew and said, “Lady Jessica, the future Queen has summoned you.”

“Do you know why?” Jessica frowned as she asked.

“I’m sorry, she wouldn’t disclose, but she told me if you refused to remind you that it is a direct order.”

Jessica sighed. She stood up and smoothed her dress. “Excuse me, Hana and Olivia.” Olivia stood up so Jessica could exit with a skeptical glare on her face at the summons.

Abbey vestibule

Jessica entered and saw Madeleine admiring herself in the mirror. A few ladies of the court including Kiara and Penelope fussed over Madeleine’s dress.

Madeleine waved her hand and dismissed them. Then, she turned her attention to Jessica and coldly said, “Exactly who I wanted to see. Liam refused the use of the cathedral, and I won’t even have a reception. I will just have a small dinner... How embarrassing. For a Queen not to have all the fanfare owed to her. I have been robbed of an opportunity to be admired on my wedding day. Not to mention this lackluster necklace. It seems I was an afterthought. I should be a priority but I'm not since your insignificant little feelings matter to him.”

Jessica rolled her eyes, “Geezus Madeleine, you sound so pretentious and entitled. Let’s not forget this is a forced marriage so Liam could ascend the throne.”

“Liam isn’t playing the part, and so I must remind him that I can still get to him. Despite him not giving me control of things, there are things that I can control, and he is powerless to stop me from doing so.”

Jessica lost her temper and finally snapped at the woman who ruined everything. “Madeleine, what do you fucken’ want!?”

Madeleine smirked, “I think you want to stay here, Jessica. Your visa can be revoked for crimes against the crown, and that means not following orders. There is a lifetime ban, and there is no appeal process. Liam cannot do anything for the next six days to help you thanks to our um... the bridal bed, which surely he will enjoy. So, for the next six days, if you so much as jaywalk, I will ensure you are in a position to be deported.”

Jessica frowned deeply at the mention of their honeymoon. “Fine. I will stay locked up at Ramsford. Happy?”

Madeleine hummed as she fussed with herself in the mirror. “Some people favor you, and if they favor you, that means they don’t favor me. I want people to love me, to know that I was the best choice for this Kingdom, and not sympathize with you. I want the security of being a Queen, and you are endangering that. You have Liam’s protection, but that won’t stop me from driving you out of the country.”

“Madeleine, why do you insist on making his life difficult?”

Madeleine turned to her with a smirk and said, “By my order, a senior member of the court, you are directed to carry my train to the Abbey. You will stand there and watch me and Liam marry. You will be allowed back to your pew when the coronation ceremony begins.”

The clicking sound of heels entered the Abbey vestibule from the end of the hall. Olivia’s voice echoed.  

Olivia growled out with  murder in her eyes. “God Madeleine, how low can you stoop? In the end, you are nothing. This day will be forgotten. I don’t know what you have done to get all this favor. First, it was Leo, now it’s Liam. Who are you in bed with truly?”

“Petty words from petty people. I have it, and I will use it.” Madeleine waved her hand in the air and said, “Love? Is that his little pet name for you? Well, LOVE, pick up my train.” Madeleine commanded with sadistic glee.

Jessica stood in defeat. Olivia stepped forward. “I outrank your little entourage.” Olivia walked over and picked up the train and said, “Surely a Duchess carrying the train of a future Queen is an honor. Especially the Duchess of an established house. Liam created a duchy for you reserving Valtoria for Jessica. That must sting. You seem to just want to wound her, to take for yourself, the things he is holding for her when he can rid himself of you." She huffed and continued. "How sad. How sad to be a Queen and have nothing. If you insist on this pathetic game with Jessica, just know she is not alone and never will be. The house of Nevrakis and the house Beaumont are loyal to each other. Jessica is under Beaumont's protection, and she is also under mine as well. My protection is worth an army.”

Madeleine sneered slightly at Olivia. “Fine. Have it your way, but she is still ordered and must comply.”

Jessica sighed and took the other end of the train. Forcing the lump in her throat to die down and to get it over with. 

15 minutes later…

The entrance song to the wedding began. Liam stood at the altar, never turning to look at  Madeleine. He just wanted the ordeal over so he can lock himself in the palace for the next six days as tradition dictated. Leo reminded him, although tradition stated he must be in closed quarters, it did not state he needed to cohabitate in the same room; just in the same wing. In fact, other than that tradition, he was under no obligation to live at the palace at all. Liam would remain in his room in the wing alone while Madeleine would remain in her room. That was his final verdict. 

Olivia and Jessica trailed behind Madeleine into the Abbey holding her train. The tears welled in Jessica’s eyes. She laid Madeleine’s train down and stood next to Olivia with their heads held high, even though she couldn't look Liam in the eyes without sobbing. 

Madeleine smiled coldly and said, “I received your message. I hope you received mine. If you listen closely, you could hear her poor heart shatter into little pieces.” Madeleine turned to Jessica and handed her her bridal bouquet, and hissed out low enough for only them to hear, “Hold this, LOVE. You will never get an opportunity to hold a bridal bouquet otherwise.” 

Liam made eye contact with Jessica as she stood by Olivia. She looked down at the flowers and averted eye contact, trying not to cry in front of the entire court, knowing that this was Madeleine’s intent all along. Liam, on the other hand, became emotional at the sight of what Madeleine forced her to do in public, humiliating her, and he was completely powerless to comfort her. 

Constantine presided over the ceremony and said, “I welcome you all here today as I am fortunate to marry my son to his Queen. It brings me great joy to unify them not only by law, but by love. Looking at Liam so emotionally over this day tells me he is completely in love.” Constantine smirked as he looked at Jessica. Then he returned his attention to the crowd. 

Constantine said, “Liam, Crown Prince of Cordonia, repeat after me:

 I, Liam Nathaniel Rys, Crown Prince of Cordonia, take you, Madeleine Elizabeth Amaranth of Fydelia, as my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and bad times, through sickness and health. I vow to love you, honor you, and be faithful to you for all the remaining days of my life.”

Liam looked at Jessica as both of their hearts broke for each other. Tears in their eyes, and hope dwindling.

[crystalshined]

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

Tru Veld after the mission to Korriban. Told in a series of short scenes. — crossposted to ao3 words: 4.6k

i.

Ferus disappears down the temple’s stairs, and Tru Veld realizes he can do nothing to stop him. He watches the long shadow follow on the polished stone, and for a dizzying moment he thinks he might throw himself after it; he thinks he might drag Ferus by the shoulders, forcibly, selfishly. He thinks he might beg Ferus to not leave.

He doesn’t.

His throat fills with Korriban ashes, like on their mission, like an aftertaste of a curse.

So he doesn’t speak, and Ferus doesn’t speak either.

The long shadow vanishes down the temple stairs. The ancient stone statues stare holes into Tru’s back. 

Darra's death is his fault, not Ferus'. He has caused this, not Ferus. Indirectly, as directly as a weapon passes from one’s hand to another. As directly as a vow of silence, as a dirty promise whispered against a better judgement. If anyone should be leaving, it should be him. Him. Not Ferus.

Then leave.

His feet are like the statues. Frozen.

You're a coward, Veld. 

He watches the stairs for many long minutes, long enough for the golden glow of the sun to vanish under a cloud. Long enough for a thread to loosen in the force; unravel in the echoes of the galaxy. It snaps and falls and a certainty overcomes Tru so unshakeable and sudden it makes his chest clench. 

He will not see Ferus Olin again.

He turns away.

ii.

He wants nothing but to go back to his room. His gait is fast, and the elevator cannot come fast enough. When it mercifully opens it isn’t empty. Shoulder against frame, Lumas blocks the entrance. Tru recognizes him from diplomacy lessons.

 “Oi Veld” Lumas juts his chin up. “Cafeteria’s the other way.” 

Tru gives his best attempt at a smile, a fake thing, removed from the rest of his body. “I’m not hungry.” He is, but the unspoken questions between Lumas’ teeth make him ill. 

“Ask me another time, okay?” 

“What.”

“Your eyes. You want to ask about Korriban. It’s very obvious, you know.”

Lumas’ presence in the Force shrinks. It gives Tru an idea that he is right, but it gives him no satisfaction. 

Tru tugs his earlobe awkwardly. “Ferus just left.”

“You kriff me. He got expelled?”

“No... He left.” A silent moment passes. “I will miss him.”

Lumas stifles a snort. “I won’t”

Silver gaze flickers, and Tru is suddenly reminded that Lumas Etima possesses as much tact as a bantha letting one go on the street.

Lumas just pats Tru’s arm and moves past him. “Catch up ‘nother time, yeah?” 

Not if he can help it.

iii.

His room is exactly like he left it, with all the ghosts of friendships he just lost.

On his desk lay multiple holo books he borrowed from Ferus. The candy wrappings Darra tucked in the half open drawer, still there ever since the last time they had to scramble for their lectures, running late.

Tru recalls, Anakin tripped over his foot, and for a short moment the place doesn’t feel like his room. It belongs to someone different. A different Tru Veld. Different and dislocated.

He finds it horrifying.

With cold, numb fingers he pries the drawer open,  throws the wrappings at the garbage chute. 

By the chute, a dimensional printer gleams sadly. It’s a very old model. An antique. Tru and Anakin carried it from the junk heap on level 1000 a while back. They decided to fix it, and agreed to look for the parts in their spare time. They almost finished it.

Now, a childish urge to trash it overcomes Tru. Un-jedi like. Pointless. Perfectly aware of it he unclips his lightsaber. 

This time the blade doesn't even ignite.

Tru glances at it with a pursed lip, feeling ridiculous and betrayed. 

Slowly, he lets out a sigh.

iv.

Ry-Gaul doesn’t have to knock, but he does. 

He also enters before an answer is given.

Tru, crouched over the antique printer, turns to the tug of his master’s presence. Pale face like a marble mask.

His master, more than usual, regards him with gentle eyes, worried, old. He takes the lightsaber abandoned in the corner of the room, clips it to his belt, opposite side to his own hilt. Tru lets him.

“When I was your age,” Says Ry-Gaul. His height folds on the edge of the bed. “I too, lost someone close.”

Shame swells within Tru’s chest,

“I thought, like many do, that a hard mission will prove my fortes, but what it proved instead, was the lack of them.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Ry-Gaul sighs. “We aren’t machines, Tru. We make mistakes. All of us.”

They lapse into silence, and for a moment, the only noise is that of the printer running a scan on its parts.

“I shouldn’t have —” 

“Next time, you won’t.”

Tru tugs at his sleeve. Uncertain. He doesn’t trust himself with that.

v.

The scan finishes with a whirr of unfit cogs, which is not unexpected, but Tru wishes something at least something could go right. Ry-Gaul in silent agreement helps with the fixing, but it is Tru who slips his flexible hands into the machine’s innards.

He dares ask, “Did the council assign us?”

There is hope in the crack of his voice, perhaps too much hope, perhaps he just wishes to run from the ghosts.

“Not this time, I’m afraid.” Ry-Gaul brushes Tru’s broken lightsaber with his thumb, like holding a wounded child, sympathetically. 

Tru’s gaze slips away. Too transparent. Disappointed.

vi.

He wakes in cold sweat at the crack of dawn. Panting, he blinks away the dreams. He tastes ash on his tongue.

It’s Korriban’s curse. 

The Padawans whisper to each other. For real this time, not like in the bedtime tales.

They poke Tru in the refectory, curiously, anxiously, they ask of Darra.

But Darra is dead, and Tru decides he will not elaborate.

Something dark hangs in the clouds. 

It’s the curse, they say.

Everyone who left on that mission came back wrong.

Tru feels it too, feels wrong, like rust in water, like ash in his throat. Wrong.

vii.

He studies, attends lectures, reads Ferus’ books.

He falls asleep and wakes in cold sweat.

He studies, checks the printer, dreams the same awful dream.

He wakes up out of breath.

In the dojo at high noon, he thinks he sees a mane of red. Violet ribbon swaying in a breeze.

“You’re not focusing.” Ry-Gaul’s voice half registers. “Tru,” The master touches his collar bone, and Tru turns, dizzy, pale.

“I didn’t sleep good.” He says, shoulders arching down in defeat. “Can we stop?”

In agreement, Ry-Gaul puts his saber down and sits. Tru does the same. 

“Then, talk to me."

viii.

Silence.

He hesitates placing his hands in Ry-Gaul’s. Silver fingertips stubbornly hover above the calloused palms.

"Do you believe in curses, master?"

Ry-Gaul studies him, he can feel it.

"Only the ones we inflict on ourselves."

A sigh follows, resigned, unsatisfied. “I think I hoped you would tell me it’s hogwash.” But he gets a feeling that Ry-Gaul knows this already, and when Tru raises his gaze to meet Ry-Gaul, the expression on his master’s face only confirms it.

At last, he entrusts his hands and closes his eyes. They breathe slow, almost in sync. They slip into the Force. 

ix.

Breathe.

They stand in ancient soil, under billowing red clouds.

Breathe.

They descend into the Sith Valley, thick with death and decay.

Breathe.

They battle the droids, and Anakin leaves him.

Why did Anakin leave him.

Breathe.

They descend into the tombs.

Why did his lightsaber have to fail.

Breathe.

They battle Granta.

His wounded leg aches. His lightsaber breaks.

Why did it have to be Darra.

Tru shrinks.

“You mustn't.” Ry-Gaul squeezes his hands, but Tru jolts awake, breathless.

"You mustn't run.” A gentle hand lays on his shoulder. Comforting. 

“This mission.” Tru gasps. “I cannot forget it. When I close my eyes, I still see her.”

Eidetic memory. Tru can recall too much. Now he wishes he couldn’t. The image of his dying friend persists under closed eyelids, sharp like knives, sharp to every grain and every trickle of blood. He doesn’t want to remember Darra this way. Not this way.

”What you see is a part of you.” says Ry-Gaul. “This memory you may not forget, but Tru, you mustn't shut it out. Only then you can make peace with it."

A grimace tugs at the silver lips.

“It may sound harsh, but give yourself time."

x.

Why did it have to be Darra.

Careful movements straighten the edges of a flatprint. The four of them, goofy faces frozen in time.

A twinge of pain stings Tru's chest. He recalls the day Darra took these pictures, holding a flatcam with the force to fit all of them in the frame. She made such a sour face that they all copied it.

Tru never figured if Ferus joined them, or if he was simply annoyed. 

While Tru ponders sending the flatprints to the archives, he still doesn’t know.

Hot tears start falling down his cheeks. The ink smears.

xi.

“It didn’t feel right not to do so, but She would punt me for showing you.”

He curls one arm around another, and feels again, like a silly stammering child on his first visit to the Council room. Struggling to meet Soara’s eyes, he wonders, in secret, if she resents him for what he has caused.

Soara only browses the flatprints for a few silent moments. When she speaks, her voice is fond. “Thank you.”

He takes it as a clue to not disturb her further.

“One moment, Tru?” The master says, and he obliges. Soara presses a smooth strip of silk into his hands. Violet. Ironed. Tru stares at it numbly.

“Don’t give me that look. Please take it.”

“I don’t— I shouldn’t— ”

But Soara regards him with that no-bantha-poodo stare that she is famous for. “I don’t exactly have where to put it.” She indicates her closely chopped locks. “Items need to be used, or there is no point owning them.”

His lips part.

“I’d rather give it to you, than throw it out.”

She wouldn’t throw it out and Tru knows. Maybe Soara doesn’t. Maybe she says so to convince him.

It works. Tru accepts the gift.

xii.

For three weeks straight the violet ribbon lays in Tru’s pocket, undisturbed. 

On the fourth he ties it around his hair.

It doesn’t suit him.

xiii.

“You’re very bendy,” Comes a voice on a wide temple corridor. “You probably get this a lot but how do you stretch?”

Tan Yuster hurries behind him. Tru stops.

“Sorry” The boy throws vigorously. Hands clap together. ”I had to take a look. Master Kolar. says my footwork is lacking, and I noticed your maneuvers are very spot on.”

Tan Yuster is five years younger, so he and Tru don’t train together. Regardless, recognition pulls at Tru’s mind, much to his surprise.

"On the dojo’s balcony. It was you.” His reaction must be too much, because Yuster wavers. “Just a tiny look.”

Tru wants to laugh it off. A breath dies in his throat. “I thought I’d seen a ghost.” 

Yuster watches him, then brightens.

“I was shielding, duh!”

xiv.

He steers the younger padawan out of an alleyway crowd. 

“Hide your braid.”

They quicken their pace. The passersby send them glances.

Tru never had to wonder about the street smarts of his friends. Now he does. 

It makes him worry about getting Yuster in trouble, worse kind than he and Anakin used to find. He knows that he should not push for it, even so,

They descend twenty levels via an elevator, each stop less shiny than the last.

Under the blinding neons of the galactic capital, Tru can only feel gladness that he isn’t alone for another night.

xv.

Yuster regards the mismatched shelvings with a complicated expression, he decides on a polite inquiry. "What place is this actually?"

“Useful one, half price everything.”

“And it will help me stretch?” Tru snorts into the back of his hand.

“It will help me get plastoid filament. One sec.”

They browse various tools for half an hour. Tru spends his leftover credits. 

Like a cleansing, another kind of exorcism. 

What they don’t spend in the store they spend in a caf in the upper district. Bright neons and colorful streets. 

Yuster confesses he’s never eaten fidga, and this has to change tonight.

xvi.

They come back before the sun gets a chance to rise. Hurrying past the temple's side entrance like any of the pairs returning from an errand. All the glow lamps in the corridors are a dim warm yellow and the scene feels all too familiar. Like an echo in Tru’s bones. 

A boy in a brown tunic drags Yuster by the sleeve. Offended, or concerned, it’s hard to tell. “Where were you? Can’t believe you left like that.” 

“Ye, without us.” A girl with a haircut the color of flame tugs Yuster’s braid. Darra tugs Tru’s topknot.

“I was banned from holding credits, not from having fun.” She would tell him whenever he and Anakin snuck outside without her. Ferus would give them all a tired look of disapproval, pretending to be above the simple joys of ignoring a curfew.

“I had no idea you consider scrap yards so amusing.”

“— is fine, I was with Brother Veld” Tru blinks, brought to the present. “Hey Tru, next time let’s all get fidga. It will be my treat, okay!” Yuster grins at him, waving goodnight as his friends usher him towards the elevator.

“Yeah… Yeah.” He shrugs, returns the smile. “Why not.”

xvii.

Rain.

He wakes to the sound, and opens the window for the chilled air. Rain reminds Tru of Teeva, the silver ocean, abundant city canals. How he’d run home with water leaking into his shoes. 

It reminds him of spotting a boy on the temple roof, standing, mesmerized by the droplets pouring down from the sky.

“It’s just water” Tru tells the boy and the boy gets wound up in excess. Flushed and defensive and puzzling. 

Only later Tru would learn about the scorching sand planet where moisture is priceless, more precious than kyber. Only later, he’d learn the boy’s name.

xviii.

Morning. 

Life continues. The steady rhythm of the Temple seems to pull Tru along. Just like a leaf becomes snatched by the wind, pushed onwards regardless of its desire. In times of clarity Tru knows this is for the best, he lets himself be pulled, he thinks he may be healing.

Then something insignificant happens, like his comlink signaling a message, and like a fool he thinks it may be from Ferus.

It isn’t. 

Ferus doesn’t send messages, not even to his master.

But Tru is a fool, and he misses his friend. 

And life continues. It has to.

xix.

Afternoon.

The printer comes to life on the ninth attempt.

Tru is proud, and then he is hollow. He wishes Anakin was here. It was their project. Not even the weight of the machine seems made for one person. 

He brings it to the creche, helping himself with the Force to keep the bulk in place.

A young togrutan girl opens the door for him, but her eyes dim briefly.

"Sorry that i'm not who you look for?" Tru offers.

The togrutan girl shakes her head and makes way. "Master Sinube is over there, come, let me show you. Come!"

xx.

The initiates swarm them like moths swarm a flame. They watch Master Sinube connect the printer with his datapad, some other kind of antique.

“I’ve not seen one of those since the Battle of Cyclor,” says the master, cheerful, he pats the faux gold casing. “It’s in good condition too.”

Tru leans closer to observe the process.“I renovated it.”

He considers not saying more, but he shakes off the thought.  “With Anakin. It was actually his idea.” 

He observes the crowd of small hands poking on the clunky pad buttons. ”I think the younglings will like playing with it”

xxi. 

Night.

Again it rains.

And again, Tru listens to the sound until his very last thought washes away.

"You will grow mold if you don't move soon" laughs the rain. His mind’s eye fills the blanks, the features and smile lines on the freckled face. Darra smiles. Mischief in her honey colored eyes.

“I’m pulled backwards, when I go.” says Tru.

The warm breeze enters through the opened window, clinging to the skin. Coruscanti air. Ash. 

“Then move backwards.”

Hands press against his shoulders.

Tru snaps awake. It is still night.

xxii.

Ry-Gaul’s head tilts to the side in the crack of the door. Freshly woken.

"I'd like my lightsaber back, master."

"Now?"

"Now."

The door opens wider. The master smiles in deep relief.

"I began to worry that you may not come for it. That… you lost your need.”

“In truth, I was glad that you took it” Yes, glad to not face the reminder of his mistakes.

“Something changed.” The master observes.

“I can't outrun the ghosts. It is like you said. I must go seek them out… make peace.”

Ry-gaul nods.

“And master, permission to use your ship?”

xxiii.

Move backwards if you have to, but move.

In the darkened hangar of the jedi temple, a lone ship illuminates with the glow of its engines, rising towards the clouds of the atmosphere.

The navicomputer’s input history unfolds in front of the padawan. Tru’s attention stops on the latest entry on the list.  Horuset system. Korriban. 

The curse is in your mind.

He takes a deep breath and his head clears, and he knows instantly the place he needs to visit is elsewhere. Further back than his mission was, at the very source, where curses and ghosts come to life.

xxiv.

He brings nothing more but his utility tools, his broken lightsaber, and a warm coat. 

A heart too heavy for his liking.

The planet swallows him indifferently into tunnels of ice. Neither judging nor encouraging nor promising the relief he looks for. 

Inside the caves is a maze. It is said, one path for each Jedi that comes. 

Tru’s vision darkens the further he goes. Only when he can’t see where he came from does he stop in complete dark. He ignites his glow-rod and sits on the icy ground. He begins to pick his lightsaber apart. Piece by piece.

xxv.

The blade and the Jedi are intertwined. 

If that’s true, then what does it say about him? Tru peels aside the layers. The steel that got crushed by the droid, energy circuits that are marred from fruitless repairs.

What is a blade that cannot cut any good for?

What is a Jedi who cannot protect a life?

The various pieces soar in the air, unfolding, until the crystal at the center comes into view.

In the midst of concentration, a whisper, or perhaps only wind. “Be careful, you would not want to break it more.”

Tru lifts his head. The pieces fall.

"...Darra?"

"Why would it be Darra" speaks the voice, now too close to his ear. 

“You killed her, don't you remember."

Tru turns sharply, lifts the glow-rod, the dim light catches on a silhouette. One pale hair streak distinct in the dark. 

“You let her die, what does it make you?” The apparition pierces him with unworldly eyes, with open feeling, raw.

What does it make him.

“You're not real…" Tru decides. "But that still hurts. A lot ."

Not-Ferus steps closer, "I'm as real as you are" the wind howls across the cave, crisp and freezing. Then nothing.

xxvi.

The kyber is gone.

Pale hands that have turned red from sweeping the frozen snow clench in useless frustration. Gone is the steady pulse of energy, vanished, melted from existence. 

Tru feels his unease settle like a hand clamping on his throat.  

He pleads the cave to return his crystal. He receives no answer, no guidance from the howling wind. 

Another blizzard must be starting on the surface, he notes, and he can only hope that his master’s ship survives the awful weather.

And he still has no crystal.

As if the planet itself tells him — You don’t deserve it .

xxvii.

Why did you come here Tru Veld.

The padawan walks, grows cold, grows hungry.

You should have left when you had the chance.

He grows weary, slips on ice, loses his glow-rod.

You should have left like Ferus left. You should have died in the sith tombs. You.

The padawan spreads his limbs on the ground, exhausted. One second he gazes at the cave walls, another, the solid rock becomes a deep valley, dry and hot from the sun. He sees Darra lay in the ash beside him. Their fingers almost touching.

It does not seem proper to suddenly be struck with so much gladness to be alive. It feels dirty, unfair. His chest heaves. 

“I’m so sorry Darra. If I could swap places with you… I wouldn’t.” 

He turns his head to take a good look at her. “I won't leave.” He says. “I will better myself so nobody pays for my mistakes again."

He places his hand on hers, it seems almost real. Warm and freezing at once. Then the illusion breaks into multitudes of light. Tru squints, shields his eyes.

The dark walls glimmer and Kyber sings. He realizes the crystal is in his palm.

xxviii.

To construct a lightsaber is an extremely personal thing. It’s a show of skill, and an ultimate exercise of patience. In the process a bond is formed  The crystal becomes part of the Jedi. Something of the Jedi transcends the boundaries of the body. A separate existence, yet one and the same. Intertwined.

Elevated to greatness, the Kyber ignites as if the Force itself burst from the fabric of the universe.

And thus, the lightsaber bathes the cave in blue, singing a song of its newfound purpose, vibrant with energy. Two hearts beating in unison. Oh how he missed it.

xxix.

The sight of pristine white snow gives Tru a vertigo worse than somersaults in Aataru. He thinks he might fall, but something grabs him. 

“Master…. For how long are you here?” 

“From the beginning.” Ry-Gaul steers Tru down the mountain path trail that’s barely visible to the naked eye — So the blizzard was real.

“You followed after me.” Tru should have noticed the ship tracking him, but Ry-Gaul doesn’t seem to mind it. He only studies the padawan thoughtfully.

“How are you feeling?”

“... Like I could sleep for a week.” Tru smiles in what feels like ages, and means it.

xxx.

The padawan wakes from dreamless slumber, watching in silence how the hyperspace shimmers outside the ship. It almost lulls him back to sleep, but mostly gives him motion sickness.

“I received a message from the council.” Ry-Gaul speaks from the pilot seat. Tru straightens, suddenly alert. “We are to depart for Dakuyl. Senator Larar believes her political opposition planned a coup ” 

“Dakuyl is not Republic space.” Tru blinks. It’s just a hunch. “ — but it will be soon.”

“Unless the opposition gets what it wants."

The padawan joins his master in the front. “They want to stay isolated?”

“Such strange times.”

xxxi.

They’re to supervise a session of the legislature, the assembly deciding the extent of the Republic's involvement on the planet. In a few days, all prominent local leaders will gather to take a vote.

“Most will be in favour” Mutters the old woman, a roomkeeper who passes Ry-Gaul the key to their lodging. "Republic will sponsor our Xoorzi farms that’s why.“

“Yet, it seems not everyone’s pleased.”

The roomkeeper shrugs. “A minority. What can they do?''

Indeed, their mission would go smoothly if they knew.

“She didn’t say everything” Tru locks their door.

Ry-Gaul brings a finger to his lips.

xxxii.

The padawan throws a piece of power cord on the floor, stepping on it until he hears a sound of crushed electronics. He motions to Ry-gaul to pass him the other ones. Two signal tappers, one holo bug.

“This kind of amateur work in a high grade hotel? Can’t be official security.”

“That is unlikely, or we'd not find it so easy.”

Only when they are sure their room is clean of spyware do they make plans. Tru realizes for the first time in a while that he feels like his old self again.

It feels good to be back.

xxxiii.

They’re to supervise a voting session of the legislature, but the session itself is fake. The real event has been rescheduled since the moment Dakuyl’s soon-to-be senator, Larar, had suspicions of danger.

But even with the fake voting, the protest and the violence are real.

In the midst of the mission, this violence seems to radiate even from the depth of space, from the very stars themselves, until they burn so bright that they vanish, taking Tru’s breath away with them.

“Are there any casualties?” Tru would ask, and receive a negative answer

“Not here, no. This happened far away.”

xxxiv.

Many beings died. Jedi. Tru doesn’t entirely understand it, not until the padawan and the master return from Dakuyl two days later. The significance of their successful quest seems to vanish the moment they step into the Temple halls. Fragrance of burned incense follows their steps, thick, almost choking.

Many Jedi died.

Just like Darra before.

Crowds trickle into the Pyre room, all hoods up, all the same funerary rites.

“What has happened?”

“Terrible things Padawan Veld... Unthinkable.” Master Ekim’s voice is husky and tired. One of his hands bandaged under the robe’s sleeve. “There is going to be war.”

xxxv.

Fire.

Some bodies are burned, and some could not be recovered. The names echo from the grandmaster’s speech, carefully, tenderly, all one hundred eighty six who have joined the Force.

Among them Lumas, and he and Tru never caught up.

Among them Yuster, and all their plans end in fire.

Unfathomable

Tru feels Ry-Gaul's hand on his shoulder, until he doesn’t. He is surrounded by a crowd of other Jedi, until he isn’t. The fire that begins to dim is the only indicator how long he has stayed in the room. At the verge of his awareness, he isn’t alone.

xxxvi.

There is something less of Anakin, some kind of injury, some wound trickling metaphorical blood into the force, but Tru decides he does not want to ask.

You’ve changed.

Does he mean Anakin or does he mean himself? Or perhaps he means all of them. The temple. The galaxy. Again, everything feels wrong.

“... You were there?” He steps closer, almost bumping elbows but he stops himself in the act. Anakin nods absently, not even looking his way.

“I was first…” he trails off and doesn’t finish, doesn’t have the words. Tru frowns, observing his cloaked profile.

“First? What do you mean first?” 

The whole mission was to rescue a single Jedi team. A hundred lives traded for two.

“I was there okay? —” Anakin turns sharply, the dying fire reflects on his furrowed face. He, too, looks tired like never before. “What do you want me to say? I was there. You weren’t . Be glad for it.”

"I can’t believe this” Tru hears himself speak, as if he is somewhere far away, out of his own skin. “Tell me Anakin, how many times will someone have to die because of you?”

There is no reply, and Tru doesn’t wait for it.

xxxvi.

The white helmets come and go and fight and die no matter what he does. No matter how careful they all are, how much intel they collect. Jedi die. Clones die. Planets become reduced to gravel and bones. No matter how many battles are won, one ends and another begins.

Sometimes Tru can’t believe his thoughts.

— In the midst of grueling combat, he remembers Darra traversing the red Korriban sands, remembers her smile, and feels almost glad that she passed away. At least she was saved from this heartbreaking war. At least, she doesn’t have to witness the galaxy burn.

[angelasscribbles]

Home For Christmas

Series: American Girl

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Riley x Liam (past)

Rating: PG

Warnings for this chapter: Language, alcohol consumption by people under 21

Word Count: 4,080

A/N: This is a complete AU, my first one that takes them out of Cordonia and makes them normal, average people.

I have no idea what this is. I went to a Christmas party and people watched a group of college-aged kids interact and I shit you not, one was named Riley. Creativity was sparked and here we are.

Fair warning, this is only a Christmas story in so far as it's set over the Christmas break. This story isn't exactly happy, merry, bright or festive. It's a lil' angsty not gonna lie.

I know I am not the first person to write Riley and Liam as high school sweethearts. Notably, @bebepac has a very adorkable version of high schooler Liam Rys. This is simply my twist on that trope and hopefully doesn't step on anyone's toes.

@choicesholidays themes "So glad we found each other" and: "If we hurry, we can still save Christmas", very loosely.

My other stuff: Master List.

Liam checked his appearance one last time in the mirror of his childhood bedroom before bounding down the burgundy carpeted stairs two at a time and skidding to a stop at the bottom.

“Whoa, there!” His father laughed, “Where’s the fire?”

“Sorry! I’m just ready for the party!”

“Ok, son!” his father laughed as he made his way around him, “I’ll be in the kitchen helping your mother.”

The Rys house, nestled in an affluent suburb of Dallas, was draped in Christmas splendor. From the seven-foot tree in the foyer to the holly-adorned fireplace in the formal living room, the house was ready for the annual Rys Christmas party.

Held the week before Christmas, it was a four hour long come and go affair showcasing his mother Eleanor’s considerable baking skills.

“Every surface is covered in food.” She always told her guests, as they circulated through the kitchen, living, and dining rooms all spread lavishly with homemade goodies.

It was true. Every table and counter in the three rooms were covered in food, from freshly chopped fruits and veggies with dip, to baked goods like walnut fudge brownies, coconut rum balls, meringue Christmas trees, four types of fudge, peppermint bark, various assorted cookies, and her homemade Chex mix, a recipe passed on from her mother and affectionally called Texas trash.

There was a chocolate fountain that was always the hit of the party with the ten and under set.

But it wasn’t the food, or the decorations, that had Liam excited for the party.

It was the hope that his high school girlfriend might put in an appearance.

Liam joined his older brother and younger sister in the dining room that graced the front of the house. Guests had just started trickling in.

“Is Riley coming?” Leo asked.

“I…don’t know,” Liam answered honestly.

“Why the hell would she?” His sister Lena looked back and forth between them like they were stupid.

“Uh…because we’ve known her since she was in kindergarten and she always comes….” Leo answered.

“That was before our idiot brother broke her heart.”

“Hey!” Liam protested, “That’s not what happened!”

Lena leveled a skeptical stare at him as she asked, “Did you or did you not break up with her after graduation?”

“It was mutual!” he protested, “Because we were going to college on opposite sides of the country!” He was so tired of explaining his reasoning to everyone.

Their friends all seemed to think he was either an idiot or an asshole for breaking up with her at the beginning of the summer instead of the end.

But he had thought it was better to rip the Band-Aid off.

Long-distance relationships were difficult to maintain and he wanted them both to have options.

Especially Riley. He knew how much getting a scholarship to college meant to her. She was the first one in her family to go to college and she felt all the pressure that entailed.  

He had done it for her. 

“Have you talked to her since you both left for school?” Lena asked.

“No,” he admitted.

He had typed out, and deleted about a thousand text messages.

He had tried calling a couple of times.

She hadn’t answered.

The one time she had called back, he had been taking a test and missed the call.

She hadn’t left a message.

“Hey, she’s here!” Leo called over his shoulder from his spot near the window, next to the chocolate fountain.

“Really?” Liam felt his heart simultaneously rise and fall. He wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants.

“Yeah, really, she just got out of Drake’s truck.”

“What?” Confusion pulled through Liam, “What are they doing together?”

“I don’t know,” Leo shrugged as he grabbed a brownie and covered it in chocolate.

Lena tilted her head to the side, “Have you talked to him since you left for college?”

“A couple of times…” the truth was that Liam had been busy with schoolwork and his own self-imposed heartbreak, so he hadn’t done the best job at keeping up with his childhood best friend.

“Have you asked him about his dating life?” Lena pressed.

Liam’s eyes widened at the implication, “You don’t think they’re together, do you?”

Leo shoved the entire brownie in his mouth as he looked out the window again, “They look pretty together to me.” He mumbled through a mouthful of brownie and chocolate sauce.

Liam leaned forward so he could see out the window.

Her body language screamed that she was nervous as she made her way up the sidewalk, side by side with Drake.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Liam said out loud, “They live next door to each other, he just gave her a ride!”

“Whatever you say, buddy!” Leo slapped him on the back hard enough to jolt him forward, “I saw Mr. and Mrs. Nevrakis come in a minute ago, I’m going to find Liv!”

“But-“

“I think you’re on your own with this, Li.” Lena told him, “you broke it, you fix it.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled as he followed his sister to the front door, “if it’s fixable.”

Lena threw herself on Riley the moment the door opened, “Riley!”

“Hey, Lena!” Riley’s face broke into a genuine smile as she returned the younger girl’s hug, “It’s good to see you!”

“I’ve missed you!” Lena said as she stepped back and pulled Riley through the door.

“What? No hug or I missed you for me?” Drake laughed.

Lena rolled her eyes, “I see you all the time!”

It was true. Drake had stayed in town after graduation and enrolled in the local community college. He was working on a certification in automotive technology. He was paying for it with his job at the local bowling alley, the same one he’d had since he was sixteen.

He was good with anything mechanical, including the pin setters. It made him invaluable to the owner.

In addition to bowling, the place had a video game arcade and laser tag, making it a popular afterschool and weekend hangout.

“Riley!” Eleanor Rys swept into the room, Constantine on her heels.

Greetings and hugs were exchanged between Riley and Liam’s parents as Liam slapped Drake’s opened palm, “Good to see you, bro.”

“You too! Can’t wait to hear all your college stories! Bet they’re wilder than mine!”

“Doubt it,” Liam scoffed, “I spend my weekends in the library studying!”

“Lame. But predictable. How are we friends?”

“You just got lucky I guess.”

Drake snorted, “Yeah, I’m the lucky one, okay!”

Liam’s parents went back to the other adults and Lena joined a group of teenagers on the other side of the room.

Riley hung back with Liam as Drake headed to the hot chocolate, “You want anything, Brooks?” He asked over his shoulder.

“I’m good!” she told him as she watched him walk away before turning to Liam with open arms, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he replied as he pulled her into an embrace.

His body relaxed as he held her tight against him, the familiar scent of her washing over him and flooding his senses with memories.

“You look good,” she told him as she pulled away with a hesitant smile.

“You look great,” relief swept through him that she was there, standing in his living room, smiling at him.

“Liam! Riley!” a voice called out.

“Hey, Rashad,” Liam high-fived his friend and attempted to squash his irritation at the interruption.

Riley was cornered by several more of their former classmates, effectively ending their conversation, at least for the time being.

She gave him an apologetic glance as their friends came between them.

After about half an hour, Riley sidled over to Liam and said, “We should go hang out in the rec room and play pool like we used to.”

“Yes!” Liam agreed, then in a lower voice, “I’ll go sneak some of my dad’s beer!”

“Just like old times!” The smile she gave him filled his heart with hope.

Word passed quickly among their core group of friends and they all filtered upstairs to the rec room.

Several minutes later, Liam glanced up and down the hallway before darting into the room with his ill-gotten gains.

His good mood dampened a little when he spotted Riley in the corner with Drake. She was laughing at something he said, and he was standing far too close to her for Liam’s liking.

Not that he had any right to say anything about who she stood close to. But when they broke up, he had thought that one of two things would happen.

Either one or both of them would move on, eventually, or they would find their way back to each other, after college.

But in the event that one of them moved on, he had thought it would be later down the road, and with someone new, someone that they met at college, in another state.

Not less than six months later with his best friend, her lifelong next-door neighbor.

Riley spotted him over Drake’s shoulder and waved, “Did you get it?”

“Yeah,” he forced a smile as he produced the six-pack from under his shirt.

He didn’t miss the disappointment in Drake’s eyes when she stepped away from him and headed in his direction.

Liam sat the beer down on a table and handed them out.

“Thanks,” Rashad took the proffered beer with one hand and gestured toward the pool table with the other, “Are we going to play pool now or what?”

“Sure,” Liam replied, “If Riley wants to.”

“I’ll play!” Drake answered.

Liam ignored him and turned to Riley, “You and me against Drake and Rashad?” He asked as he handed her a pool cue, “Just like old times.”

“Just like old times.” She grinned at him.

“Or we could switch it up,” Drake interjected, “Riley and me against you and Rashad.”

“No,” Liam gave him a sharp look, “this is good!”

Rashad looked back and forth between them then at Riley, “What’s happening?”

“Nothing,” Drake shrugged as he turned to grab a pool stick, “just trying to shake things up a little.”

Rashad turned his attention back to Liam who also shrugged, “Things are fine the way they’ve always been.”

“Okay…”Rashad’s gaze slid to Riley who just shook her head.

“Let’s play!” Riley said.

“I’ll break,” Rashad decided to ignore whatever weirdness was going on with his friends.

An hour passed while other friends drifted in and out of the rec room. They played pool until Rashad had to leave.

“I’m going to get some of your mom’s famous punch!” Riley told Liam.

“How?” He demanded, “It’s alcoholic!”

“I’m going to have Leo get it for me,” she smirked.

“Oh yeah, that’ll work,” Liam chuckled.

He swore his siblings both liked Riley more than they liked him.

“Make sure the cup is full so we can share,” Drake called after her as she slipped out the door.

Liam found himself alone with Drake for the first time since last summer, “So…you and Riley…what’s that about?”

“What?” Drake looked at him in surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Come on, man. I’ve known you since we were five. Something is going on with you two.”

Drake shrugged, “I mean, we’ve hung out a few times.”

“A few times? Like when?”

“I don’t know,” Drake hedged, “last summer a little and then over Thanksgiving break.”

“She came home for Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, said she was homesick.”

“Is she…having a hard time at school?” Liam asked with concern.

“Maybe you should ask her that,” Drake responded, “I don’t speak for her.”

“Right, of course, you’re right. Sorry. It’s just still…weird…”

“Why is it weird? I thought you two broke up amicably, by mutual agreement.” Drake leaned on his pool stick as he watched Liam’s face carefully as if the answer was important.

“We did but…I don’t know, we agreed to stay friends, but I swear she avoided me all summer after that!”

“Huh.”

“What’s huh mean?”

“Nothing, man!” Drake threw a hand up in the air, “just trying to figure things out.”

“What things?”

“Who brought it up first?”

“Brought what up?”

“The idea of breaking up. Who floated it out there?”

“I did.”

Drake nodded, “So you could go off to college free and unattached, I get it.”

“No, that’s…I mean, yes but… fuck, shit, I don’t know what I mean!” Liam threw his pool stick on the table and slumped into a nearby chair.

“So, what? You regret it now?”

“Yes!...No!...Maybe, okay?” Liam dropped his head into his hands.

“Okay…” Drake tossed his stick down as well and took the seat across from Liam, “But you did break up with her so if she started seeing someone else, someone you know…would you be mad about it?”

Liam’s head snapped up, “Someone like you?”

“I didn’t say that…”

“But it’s what you meant, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I’m just saying-“

“You can just tell me, Drake! We’ve told each other everything since grade school!” Liam snapped.

Drake looked up at the ceiling instead of directly at Liam as he responded, “I’m interested, okay?”

“Since when?”

“Since always! I dated her before you did if you remember.”

Liam’s mouth fell open, “Are you talking about those two weeks in seventh grade?”

“Yeah.”

“You were twelve!”

“So?”

“So, that’s not really dating!”

“I took her to the sock hop.”

“Your mom drove you both to the sock hop and Riley spent the whole night dancing with Maxwell Beaumont! Then she dumped you for him!”

Drake shrugged, “Like you said, we were twelve. I forgave her for that, and Max turned out to be gay so…”

“Drake, we’ve been best friends since first fucking grade and you have never expressed a romantic interest in her before!”

“I don’t tell you everything, Li.”

Liam stared at his best friend in disbelief, “I tell you everything!”

“You didn’t tell me why you broke up with Brooks.”

“Fuck. I guess I didn’t.”

Drake pulled in a deep breath, unwilling and unable to admit that he’d been in love with her since they were four, “Look, I’m sorry, Li. It’s not like I was keeping things from you. I mean, it was just a crush when we were kids, then in high school, she dated Rashad most of freshman year, and sophomore year I was with Kiara…then she was dating you. It just never seemed like there was anything to tell.”

“I guess.”

“You’re my best friend, Li, and I don’t want to lose that…but…”

Liam’s heart sank, “But?”

“But you did break up with her, she is single, and something did happen between us last summer! I’m sorry, I thought you two were over….”

“We were…I mean we are…I mean…shit… I don’t know what I mean!” He sighed in frustration. All the reasons they broke up in the first place were still valid.

But the thought of her with someone else, anyone else, but especially Drake, stung.

The door creaked open, and Riley came back in, “Got it!” She crowed triumphantly.

Liam shook his head, “I told you he likes you best, he would have never done that for me!”

“Well, I did promise to give him all the dirt on that guy Anton that Liv’s been seeing.”

“Can you deliver on that?” Drake asked.

“I’ll do my best!” she answered with a grin.

Liv and Riley were attending the same school. Riley was a freshman while Liv was a senior, but they still saw each other and ran in some of the same circles.

“You always do,” Liam replied as he stood, “can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure…”

“Privately, I mean,” He said with a pointed look at Drake, “in my room.”

Drake suppressed a sigh as he stood up, “I’m going to find some of those sugar cookies. I’ll be downstairs when you’re done.”

Liam retrieved the last beer from the shelf where he had hidden it behind the trivial pursuit game.

Riley trailed behind him to his room, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mouth went dry as she stepped through the door into his bedroom.

A room she hadn’t stepped foot in since the day he’d broken up with her six months prior.

She blinked rapidly several times to combat the tears that welled up in her eyes at the memory.

The familiar scent of his room rushed over her as she took a seat on the edge of his bed and sat her red solo cup on the nightstand.

She glanced surreptitiously around. Everything looked exactly the same. But nothing was the same anymore.

She clenched her fists tightly in her lap as she struggled to contain her jangled nerves.

Liam sat down next to her on the bed and turned his body to face her as he fidgeted with the unopened bottle in his hand, “Ah…Drake said you came home for Thanksgiving because you were homesick. Is everything okay at school?”

She considered her words carefully before finally replying, “It’s fine. It’s just a big change, you know?”

Liam nodded. His eyes locked on the label he was pulling at on the beer bottle, “Yeah. I do.”

They sat in awkward silence for a moment then Riley asked, “Why did we break up?”

Liam nearly dropped the bottle, as his head jerked up, his eyes wide with astonishment, “What? I thought we agreed it was for the best!”

“I mean…it was your idea,” Riley replied slowly, “What was I going to say once you brought it up? No?”

Liam’s world spun, “I thought….I thought it was what you wanted! Are you telling me I was wrong?”

“Yeah. But once you brought it up, I thought it was what you wanted so….”

“But…you kept talking about how hard long-distance relationships were…did I misread that?”

“I kept bringing that up because I was stressed out and worried about what was going to happen to us, Liam! I wanted reassurance, not to break up!”

“Wow. Okay, so I totally misread that! I am…a fucking idiot, just like my sister said…”

He drew in a deep breath, working up the courage to tell her it was a mistake and he wanted her back.

Long distance was hard, but not impossible. They could do it.

He wanted to do it.

“I don’t know, Liam. Maybe you were right.”

“What?” Disappointment surged through him, “What do you mean?”

“I mean…college is a lot; you were right about that. And we’re not just in different states, we’re on opposite coasts!”

“Yeah, but we have technology! We can text, talk, facetime, all of it! Maybe I could fly out to you one weekend a month or something.”

“Until you need to study for a test on Monday, or want to go out with your new friends. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing? Exploring, growing, learning about ourselves?”

Liam felt like he’d been slapped. They were the exact words he’d used to break up with her.

“Yes, but-“

“I don’t want you to start to resent me, Liam. Flying across the country once a month? Missing out on parties and study groups and all those new experiences you told me we were both going to have? And what if you meet someone new at Princeton? I don’t want to be broken up with for someone else. It’s better this way. Our friendship stays intact.” She nodded as she spoke, as if reassuring herself of the facts.

“Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have,” She assured him, “I was pretty fucked up when you dumped me but-“

“I didn’t dump you, Riley!” He protested, “I thought it was mutual! I thought-“

She reached for his hand, smiling through the tears that suddenly pooled in the corners of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks, “I know that now. And that actually makes me feel so much better about everything!”

“Is that why you avoided me all summer?”

“Yeah, I was pretty hurt but I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing it.”

“Satisfaction?” He shook his head vigorously, “Riley, I’m man enough to admit that I cried myself to sleep every night for the first two weeks!”

“Really?” She sniffled as she wiped an arm across her face.

“Really…” He scooted closer and pulled her into an embrace, “I’m so fucking sorry. I never meant to hurt you!”

“It’s okay,” she assured him as she buried her face in his chest.

It felt so comforting to be wrapped in his arms.

But college was all about pushing out of her comfort zone. Liam had been right about that.

She pulled away and wiped at her eyes, “Oh my God, it feels so good to be able to talk to you again!”

“Same!” He laughed, “I’ve missed you so fucking much!”

“Me too! I’m used to sharing everything with you!”

“Just to make sure I’m clear this time… you don’t want to get back together?”

The tears flooded her eyes again, “Part of me really does, Liam, but part of me knows you were right about all the reasons we broke up in the first place.”

“To focus on our schoolwork and make new friends?”

“It’s not just that…I have some…things I need to figure out.”

“Things like Drake Walker?” He worked hard to keep his voice even as he watched her face for her reaction.

She cut her eyes sideways at him, “Maybe, but it’s not just that either. It’s…everything.”

“You know I’m here if you ever want to talk. About anything.”

She smiled softly, “I miss our talks.”

“Me too,” he admitted, “I want us to be friends, Riley. Like we were before we dated. I mean, if we’re not going to be together, can we at least go back to being friends? I regret the distance that’s between us now. I don’t want to go back to Princeton and spend another semester not talking to you!”

“That would actually make me really happy,” She gave him a brilliant smile.

Liam hadn’t wanted to break up with her…it changed everything… and nothing.

She couldn’t turn off her feelings for Liam, but she also couldn’t take back what had happened with Drake or the feelings that had unlocked within her.

She needed time, and space, to process everything.

Liam’s phone dinged. He pulled it out and scanned the text, then looked up at Riley, “Drake wants to know if we want to meet out on the roof.”

Riley’s face lit up, “Hell fucking yeah! Talk about just like old times!”

Five minutes later the three of them climbed out of a second-story window and dropped onto the roof of the first-floor kitchen.

They climbed up the peaked roof of the living room and clambered up onto the roof of the second story.

The sound of barely suppressed giggles and quiet shushing noises drifted across the sharp stillness of the night as the lifelong friends made their way to the spot where three gables came together, giving them a place to sit as well as hiding them from the view of anyone on the ground.

Riley shivered inside her jacket as she lowered herself into sitting on the cold shingles, Liam on one side of her, Drake on the other.

Both boys scooted closer to her, and she relaxed into the shared body heat.

They all three tipped their heads back to watch the stars twinkle in the night sky hoping to catch a glimpse of some meteors from the annual Ursid shower as they streaked towards the earth, just like they’d done every year since they were twelve.

She was acutely aware of each of them as they pressed close against her on either side.

They were both intrinsic parts of the fabric of her life and always had been.

She hadn’t lost Liam; their relationship had just changed.

Her relationship with Drake had changed too, but she wasn’t sure exactly how. All the reasons she couldn’t be with Liam also applied to Drake.

There was an entire world out there waiting for them to explore and conquer.

They couldn’t set sail together, but maybe they could be a homeport for each other.  

“Hey,” she said softly, “Let’s agree that no matter what else is going on in our lives, we’re going to be right here doing this exact thing next Christmas.”

“Agreed,” Drake answered quickly.

Liam smiled in the darkness as his hand found hers and squeezed gently, “It’s a date.”

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99 okay I was listening to this song and I got an idea

This is and Alastor x OC fic

A few days had passed when alastor had overheard Aponi singing in her room. She had the most beautiful voice and he was curious about why she'd hadn't told anyone about her singing.

He decided to go ask Angel Dust about it.

"Ya telling me she never told ya she sang?" Angel asked as he took a drink made by husker.

"That's what I said, my friend!" Alastor replied, trying to hide his frustration.

"Oh yeah! She can sing real good! That was her whole schpiel when she worked with Valentino. After she left the club though she found her own little place. I've been there a few times. Quaint. The people that go there were just fucked over by others, kinda like she was," Angel explained.

"Where is it?" Alastor asked.

"Eh just a little place on the edge'a hell. She'd probably take you if you asked. She neva' goes anymore on account'a you," he stated. "Agh. I gotta get ta work. See you shittheads later,"

"How did she get out of a contract with Valentino?" Alastor asked again.

"Ah. I pulled some strings. She didn't belong there. I signed over some of my death... but she's worth it. She doesn't know though. If she did she'd kill me," Angel stated before walking out if the hotel.

Alastor stood, a small smile on his face before he made his way up to Aponi's room.

Aponi was cleaning out her cat's litter box when there was a knock on the door.

"Come on in!" She called as she tied the plastic bag.

"Hello my darling! I wanted to ask you something," Alastor began.

"Oh of course! What's up?" She asked as she threw the bag in her big trash can before rying that up as well to get ready to take it out.

"Angel Dust told me you tend to go to a little place outside of town and I was wondering if I could accompany you," Alastor stated.

Aponi stood there and looked at him.

"Uh... I mean you can... but I don't think it's your type of scene," she stated.

"Nonsense! I showed you around Cannibal County! It's only fair that you show me your favorite places!" Alastor exclaimed.

Aponi smirked. "Okay. But we gotta leave in 20 minutes. You good with that?" She asked as she picked up the full garbage bag and began walking out of her room to throw it away, qlastor following her.

"Perfect! Should I dress in anything specific?" Alastor asked.

"You? Nah. But I have a performance there so I've gotta dress a certain way," Aponi stated.

"A performance?" Alastor asked as he watched her shrug the garbage bag into the trash.

Aponi smirked before walking back inside to get ready.

20 minutes passed and alastor waited for Aponi.

She walked out, a coat covering her outfit.

"Do I get a sneak peek, darling?" Alastor asked with a smile.

"Ha! No~" she stated before the two began walking to her car.

A few minutes of driving passed and Aponi parked next to a small club, easy to miss.

The two got out of the car and walked in.

It was like a little diner, and had quite a few people inside, all friendly with each other like a community.

"Aponi!" They all shouted as they ran to her.

"You brought the radio demon with ya? What kinda club do you think we are?" The owner asked, a smile on his face.

"He's good, Chuck, I promise. Is everyone ready?" She asked.

"More than you know," he chuckled with his southern accent. He was a beetle demon.

"Carolyn!" Aponi exclaimed as she walked over to an older demon.

"Aponi! How was the drive, my dear?" Carolyn asked.

"Oh pretty short. Is your son here?" Aponi asked.

"If he wasn't I'd have to yell at him!" Carolyn chuckled.

"C'mon it's time to sing!" One of the partygoers shouted.

"Who me? Oh I could never!" Aponi teased.

Alastor looked around before moving to stand near the woman called Carolyn.

"Sing! Sing! Sing!" The room began chanting.

Aponi laughed before snapping, music staring.

I was hot

Aponi began singing. She sighed after the first line.

I went to parties a lot Y'know? I was driving Lamborghinis Sipping super-dry martinis In the tiniest bikinis on a yacht

She shook her hips to the two beats given.

But I was depressed Also completely obsessed An unhappy beauty queen Who dreamed to be Miss Argentina I had such low self-esteem I was a mess

She sang. The crowd laughed at the last line.

She moved to the stage to get her microphone.

So I gave it all up for the netherworld I've been here forever, girl If I was more clever, girl I would've stuck it out Knowing what life's about

she shrugged her coat off to reveal a red dress, for for a tango.

Everyone gave a cheer, and alastor tilted his head in curiosity.

Pain and joy and suffering Failing but recovering I'll tell you another thing Everyone here is alone So if you are breathing Go home!

She belted.

If I knew then What I know now I would have looked within and let love in somehow If I only knew

She moved her hips to the Beat again, a smile on her face.

The truth back then I wouldn't have had my little accident

She made a motion to her neck, signaling how she died.

She walked to the back of the stage.

Don't be blind

She sang as she started strutting to the rhythm down the stage and catwalk.

You left your whole life behind See a shrink Call a priest Ask the recently deceased Death is final and you cannot press rewind

The crowd laughed, along with a chuckle from alastor.

Don't jump when the light is red

One demon sang, apart of the ensemble.

Toasters should be used for bread Another one sang..

Never smoke cigars in bed Nietzsche was right, y'know, to live is to suffer, bro Don't cheat on the one you wed Never whip a thoroughbred Angry pygmys shrunk his head Why did it take death to see Happiness was up to me?

More people sang as part of the ensemble.

If I knew then What I know now I would've laughed and danced And lanced every sacred cow I thought I knew But I was wrong 'Cause life is short But death is super long

As the music progressed, Aponi was pulled in by a male dancer, as they began dancing to the rhythm in a tango.

Much to Alastor's displeasure and jealousy that he'd never want to admit.

I exploded!

One guy called out. Everyone laughed and whooped at the music.

The dancing continued.

If I knew then (If I knew) What I know now I would've crossed every line And drank all the wine Before my final bow

The ensemble sang as Aponi was spun through all of the different dancers.

If I knew (If I knew) The things that now I know I would ride the highs and cherish the lows Going, it's a quick trick 'round the rodeo

The ensemble sange before getting quiet for aponi.

So before they lower the curtain, be certain to enjoy the show

She sang confidently before taking a deep breath..

That's what I know!

She belted.

Life is short but death is long Here, one minute then it's gone

As the ensemble along with aponi sang everyone took their places on the stage.

Thought I knew but I was wrong If I only knew what I know now!

At the last beat aponi made a pose by sticking her leg out and shooting the hand with her microphone into the air.

The lights went dark.

When they turned back on Aponi have a bow as someone walked dover to help her down from the stage.

"Well that was more entertaining than the stock market crash of 1929!" Alastor called out as he shoved his way through Aponi's friends.

"Thanks Al! I've been practicing for weeks!" Aponi stated.

"You never told me you could do any of that!" Alastor exclaimed, keeping his jouful tune and trying to hide how he felt a but disappointed at not being told about it.

"Well Al this isn't your usual crowd," Aponi stated.

"But it's yours," Alastor argued. "You were amazing," he stated with a genuine smile.

Aponi blushed.

"Thanks," she stated.

[thefastestaround]

✔ // for Ry pls!!

Acquaintance:

hold the door for them | help them carry something | let them borrow something | let them use their phone | smile at them when passing in the streets | shake hands with them | flirt with them in a bar | share a taxi with them (You know how I feel about this Ryouta) | give them a ride home | lend them money | sit next to them on public transportation | offer them some food | help them find something they lost

Friendship:

let them stay the night | listen to them complain at 4 am | help them get over a break up | go out shopping with them (I would complain the whole time) | pet sit for them (Your pet, not Gabby's | help them move houses | help them find a lost pet | go on vacation with them | stay up all night with them | help them hide a dead body | provide an alibi for them | take their side in a break up(I will not take either side in this) | talk about their future plans | be maid of honour/best man/etc. at their wedding | share food with them

Lover:

let them stay after sex | gentle sex | rough sex | experiment | handcuffs | bdsm | whips | orgasm denial | aftercare | cuddles after sex | tea/coffee/etc. after sex | gentle kisses | rough kisses | passionate kisses | sloppy kisses | lazy kisses | hang out without sex | hide their relationship | cheat on them | cheat on someone else with them | dirty talk | loving talk | gentle touches | rough touches | nervous/shy touches | say “I love you”

Married/dating:

take them on expensive dates(You have money, you do it) | pay for dates(Just use your powers) | make them pay for dates | go to the movies | put out on the first date | get an arranged marriage | stay at home most nights(If you and Deb are ok with it) | cuddle in front of the tv(I'm sure Deb will have trash TV for us) | propose first | drop hints until they propose | give a big/expensive/elaborate proposal | have a quiet proposal | say yes to a proposal from them | have a big wedding | have a small wedding | elope | get married in Vegas | go on an expensive honeymoon | go on a cheap honeymoon (As if I'm ever getting married again)| have kids (We both have one)| get a pet | move in together | laugh during kisses | laugh during sex | tickle fights | fight over who’s cuter sexier (I still win) | make them sleep on the couch after fights | make up sex | angry sex | no sex(If you really want) | let their parents stay over | let their family visit often | tell them “I love you” every day

Sibling/platonic:

fight | hug | laugh at them when they get hurt | help them hide a dead body | provide an alibi for them | tell them they’re annoying at least once a day | share food with them | help them move houses | walk them down the isle | try to sell them online | set up an online dating account for them (Prank) | set them up on blind dates | try to set them up with your friends | listen to their problems(You listen to enough of mine) | help them cook | cook them food (You like your penthouse not burned down, right?)| make them watch shows they don’t like with them | tell them they’re an idiot/loser/dork/nerd affectionately

Enemy:

fight them | take petty revenge | kill them | try to smother them in their sleep | hire an assassin | work harder to beat them at something | follow their social media just to get mad about it | make passive aggressive remarks towards them | spread rumours about them | laugh at them when they get hurt | take pleasure from them being upset | ruin their life

@fatummortem

[carolsd13]

21:48

This was an overall good day 🙂

It started off rocky with the dog having to go out every 2 hours in the morning. I got up then Ry got up then I got up then I went out and got up another 2 times in the living room. Now, im someone who truly values sleep so that was really annoying to me. When Ry woke up he was talking about how he got up to take care of them and I told him I did it 4 times and he said why didn't you ask for help? When I do ask he does it, with some pretend huffing. Maybe I take that to heart too much? I do appreciate that he is volunteering himself to help, especially since they were his dogs first, but mentally I take on the ownership of the task. I make the plans, the list of things that needs to get done. I tell him to fold the laundry and take out the trash and usually he does....maybe I think of things that need to get done without enough regularity? But its not often that he does the planning of what should be done. Perhaps a list we go through every week and another for every month would help... we have mentioned getting one of those before and putting it on the fridge or something.

Im off point. I get frustrated by situations I build for myself and that is impacting my relationship greatly and id like it to stop.

Other than that I had a good workout, got chores done, had a nice takeout lunch, watched a nice movie with my man, cooked for tomorrow, and got the work done I left to do during the weekend! I actually did it, I surprised even myself with that one.

I know...doing work on a Sunday isn't good work life balance, but when I felt unable to keep going on Friday, having this flexibility helped a lot.

A great day after all.

[onlinecrown]

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[lesbienneanarchiste]

I just think Johanna the Hilda Mum and Trylla the Troll Mum should be in love.

[babybammargera]

Things bf Bam does for the sole purpose of annoying you.

He'll get bored if you take naps without him.

So he'll probably let you sleep for a little bit.

But then he'll probably yank you out of bed of jump on you.

On the other hand he's awful when it come to waking him up so those are your only options to get him out of bed.

Hes always mocking you when you get onto him about anything. So you'll have to eventually result to "Damn it Brandon listen to me"

But arguments aren't usually serious.

Pranks. So many pranks.

Like he pranks you as much as he pranks the guys and sometimes worse.

He's tried to get you with the clipper pranks (luckily April stopped him)

Fireworks in the most inconvenient times and places.

Silly string attacks while you're trying to get ready.

Or throwing you in the pool if he gets the chance.

And as I've said before he's the type of bf to straight bodyslam you onto whatever (bed couch beanbag chair etc) is closest to you.

Will 100% chase you around with spiders.

Taking a shower? Yeah he's turned on the cold water on you.

Locked a skunk in your car one time. (Honestly tho it was probably more Novaks idea tho bc Bam drives your car more than you do)

Probably trashed your room during the prank war.

But felt bad bc how you reacted and spent the day with Ryan Raab and Dico cleaning it up

Will whine till you agree to go with him to set or the skate park.

Whines even more If you didn't see him land his "fucking rad" trick.

"BABE THAT WAS SO SICK DID YOU SEE THAT?" cue whiney Bambi when you say you didn't.

If you're eating so is he. Even if you've already split your food with one of the others.

He won't get his own food or snack tho.

"Bam seriously get your hands off my food I just got that. Go get your own."

"Why would I? you've got food right here. And you're already sharing with Dico anyway its only fair."

Sleepy Bam after shoots/filming days insists on having all of your attention even if you were on set right along with him.

Like will make you sit or lay with him for the sole purpose of sprawling out on top of you and telling you all about whatever he's currently hyperfixated on.

He watches the same 5 movies on repeat.

Also can't sit still for the life of him.

And can't keep up with anything either.

So your bag has more of bams (and his friends if it's a group outing) belongings in it than your own.

His keys. A spare pair of his bitchy sunglasses. A beanie. His lighter and cigs. Some random stuff of Ry's too.

Probably more than that tbh.

He gets so hype and wild listening to music.

So never expect peace during a short car ride.

Can't ask him to hold your drink anywhere bc he'll forget and drink it.

Honestly I could go on and on for days but I'll keep it short.

[weirdwonderfulworld]

btw it's not just that one ask that rubs poc the wrong way, it's like. the majority of fandom snubbing/ignoring/infantilizing/near-villainizing ry & steve, ever since they were all still in buzzfeed

the way white fans see shane as the zany, kind-hearted, multi-faceted weirdo he is, vs. the way these fans depict ryan and steven as these one-dimensional characters, the jock who's afraid of ghosts and the rich-blooded professional/businessman

the way white fans see the way the three interact with each other as friends who actually know each other, and they try to emulate whatever shane says by trashing ryan and steven's interests in sports, heavily criticizing their choices in t5b, making fun of spirituality/religion/other things that ry&steve clearly believe in, harrassing ryan for the pre-approved "murder" of a fucking puppet??????

the way white fans might only express appreciation for ryan or steven when they look good or when they serve others or when they say something "unlike themselves"

the way white fans have no idea how hard it is for americans of color to be the loudest person in the room, to have the loudest opinions in a space where strangers can tear you down just because the person saying those things looks like them. shane is privileged to be as outwardly radical/liberal as he is, and he uses that privilege well. but the idea of not being as loudly liberal as your more privileged friends indicating some sort of lapse in morality/"wokeness" is so fuckin backwards

it's the reason why this keeps happening, it's the reason why poc keep quietly dropping out of the fandom, it's the reason why the op who got that ask phrased their reply as uninflammatory as possible. poc in this fandom keep holding their breath bc we see the trends and we know how wrong it feels in our gut but it's all become so common and normal and prevalent that it feels wrong to acknowledge it, that addressing it feels like overreacting

because we can tell if white fans don't Mean It That Way, and none of us really want to make someone feel bad for pushing a narrative they didn't know they were pushing. but ultimately (and most importantly), the damage is still inherent in the behavior. and man, we're tired of carrying all that heartache, especially when all we've been trying to do is just watch some gotdam youtube videos in peace

[secretsandwriting]

Murder Made Us Do It

Part Twelve: A History On Cults

When a killer targeting couples manages to avoid both the Justice League and the Devil Fugitives, the two “enemies” decide to work together to bring him down. How do you catch a killer targeting couples? You bait him with couples. It couldn’t go wrong, right?

TW WARNINGS: Mentions of child abuse, death, human experimentation, kidnapping, electroshock therapy, phycological abuse, phycological horror, gunshot wounds, autopsies, bullet removal, shrapnel removal, animal abuse, organs outside of the body, starvation, forced iv, blood.

Probably over tagged but I figured better safe than sorry. Anyways idk how much I like this but its good enough! I hope those of you ok with reading it like it!

SUMMARIZED VERSION WITHOUT ALL THE TRIGGERS

ALSO, if you like it pls comment or reblog with your thoughts bc i would love to hear them :D

“I really hate to have to be the one to say it… But ever since we cut contact, Matchmaker hasn’t shown up, we’ve all been feeling like we’re being watched, and we keep hearing about these people with smiley face masks. Something is going on and the only people who knew all the details are Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Jacob and ourselves. The onl-” Alistair looked ready to cry.

“And the only one who wouldn’t face direct problems from it would be Jacob.” Ry finished for him.

“But he took us in, helped us learn how to function in society, got us therapy and countless other things. Why would he do something like this?” It didn’t make sense, why would he put so much effort into helping the three of you while helping the other side.

“The biggest question is who’s he helpi-” A hand clamped over your mouth and held you down, within seconds Ali and Ry were pinned as well. A familiar weight was clamped over your neck and the pain that came with it was just as bad as you remembered.

“No! Please! I promise I’ll be good!” You begged the man in the white coat. “I promise! I’ll sit still and I won’t hurt anyone I’m not supposed to! Just please don’t put the collar on! It hurts so much!” He hadn’t listened and the power restraining collar had been forced on despite your begging.

You were pulled from your memories when you were lifted up after being securely cuffed. Jacob stood up front, talking with one of the old scientists you thought had been killed. He glanced over and smirked. His eyes didn’t hold the warmth you were used to. It was like he was someone else entirely.

“Get them in the van. Make sure no one notices.” 

Why couldn’t nice things last.

Tim looked down at his phone when it pinged. Alistair. A soft smile grew on his face and the rest of the family grinned to themselves. It was cute and good blackmail material. 

“What’d your boyfriend say?”

“It’s just a location. Their hou-” He was cut off by the sound of Jason’s phone. Ry judging by the look on his face. He stepped away to answer before coming back and putting it on speaker. It sounded like Trash. The chatter was clearly a racoon and he sounded upset.

“The SOS.” Dick looked sick.

“What.” Bruce stood up.

“Y/n told me that they have a three part SOS and that the order they would come in would be Alistair, Ry, and then her. But her part was just a bunch of numbers and a book-” He typed through his phone before  showing them a screenshot with a series of numbers. 

“That's a safe code.”

“We need to go now!”

The entire group moved fast, getting into costume before getting into vehicles and speeding away. Within record time they were entering the house. Everything looked normal until two disturbed animals came running in. Trash waved them in while Appa started moving further into the house. 

They were led to a bookshelf that Trash scaled until he reached one book and tugged, looking back at the group. Damian stepped forward.

“A history of Cults?” He reached out and grabbed the book to pull it out but it only went so far before it stopped and they heard a click. Appa yowled from her spot on the ground, front paws up on the bookshelf and almost mimicking pushing it. Steph moved to help the cat and the bookshelf moved easily revealing a safe. The safe’s door was ripped off and it was empty.

“They go-” Appa yowled, interrupting Bruce and turning their eyes down to where Trash was acting something out.

“Behind it!” Jason moved and started inspecting the safe, Tim joining him. “Here. Pull!” The safe was moved and under it was another safe. “The code!” Dick put in the code and the door opened. He pulled out three files and a notebook. On the front of the books, in all caps, READ IN A SECURE LOCATION! Back to the Batcave, this time, they called the rest of the league to join them. 

“Why are we here?”

“The three from Devil’s Fugitives. Ghost, Cryptic, and Hacker have been kidnapped. We don’t know why or by who but they left us everything to get into their safe where we pulled these.” Bruce set the files and the notebook on the table. “We’re going to go over them and see if we can get any information off of them.”

“Ok, why is Dick holding a cat and a raccoon clinging to Jason?”

“They’re the girl’s pets.” 

The first file was scanned in and within seconds the first page was pulled up. 

Subject 404

It was Alistair’s judging by his ability listed. The reality of how bad it was, slowly started sinking in. They all saw the signs of past trauma, wasted as the three refused to explain things they had asked about, how how they all had weird habits that seemed off. But they never would have realized the full extent.

They hadn’t even gotten past the first page with the training plan. Just the training plan. But it was horrific. The detailed daily schedule consisted of electroshock therapy, whatever the hell fear training was, 6 hours of training daily, then an additional 4 hours of mental training as well as a whole slew of other things they didn’t want to figure out.

The second page was worse. It was the scientist's notes. While it was all important and all extremely twisted, a few things stood out to them.

—---

Today pain training went well, the subject barely flinched when he was shot. Tomorrow we’ll try multiple shots.

—---

The subject is starting to settle down. He’s not trying to make friends anymore and he’s going quietly when the guards go get him.

—---

The subject is showing signs of fear towards rats. Tomorrow he’ll go through fear training and will be locked in a cage with them until he’s no longer afraid.

—---

Today we introduced the subject to another to compare compatibility.

—---

The subject seems to be working well with Subject 532. 

—---

The Subject and Subject 532 will be introduced to the third. 

—---

Subjects 404, 532, and 673 have been introduced and started training together. Its only a matter of time before our goals are completed.

—---

The subjects seem to be getting too friendly. He was put down.

—---

During Subject 404’s autopsy, 31 bullets, 45 shrapnel, and 392 foreign items were removed. They’re currently in the process of fixing the broken bones, once that’s complete we’ll move onto the enhanced Lazurus pit injections we created.

—---

The injection was just inserted into the subject's heart. Now it’s a waiting game

—---

The subject’s heart has started beating on its own.

—---

One of the side effects seems to be a change in blood color, It's now a dark turquoise. 

—---

The first training session since the revival has revealed an increase of physical abilities.

—---

The subjects are still too close. When a guard tried to separate them, he was killed without hesitation. They’re getting stronger, we’re getting closer.

The only sound in the cave was Tim’s sobs. It was horrific. No one wanted to move onto the other files but they had too. They needed a clue as to where they would be.

The Next file was labeled Subject 532. It was Ry’s. The first page was basically the same, all the normal information a doctors office would have and then another horrible schedule plan. The Rest of the file was notes, and they braced themselves for the worst. 

—---

Subject 532 is doing well with the fear training. It only takes an hour for her to get over most fears. 

—---

The subject is still overly friendly with others but that could work as a cover so we’re letting it slide for now.

—---

We’ve found a good punishment for the subject since meals weren’t enough leverage. Give her punishments to the animals she trains with and she’ll break.

—---

The subject was introduced to a potential teammate. Subject 404. We’re not sure how it will go yet.

—---

The two subjects seem to be working well together. We’ll adjust their training to match

—---

A Third subject will be introduced. It’s earlier than planned but we’re progressing well. 

—---

The first training with the third is going well. They’ve seemed to click well. Training will be adjusted again

—---

The subject has gotten too close with the others. We were afraid of this. Subject 532 has been terminated.

—---

Subject 532’s autopsy went well. All foreign objects were removed and bones and organs were patched up. Her organs will be placed in the body and the Enhanced Lazarus Pit serum will be injected tomorrow

—---

The Subject's heart has started beating. It’s estimated she’ll be back up in less than a week

—---

There's been a change in blood color as well as a few other vitals.

—---

The first training session went well. The subject is showing signs of advanced physical abilities and increased aggression. More testing will be needed to find the limit

—---

The subjects are still too close. When separation is mentioned around them they go ballistic. Its only a matter of time before they’re too strong for any chains mankind can create

Jason looked sick, between crying and screaming. No one could blame him. The things they read in the last hour were horrible. No one should have to go through anything like that. They continued on.

Subject #673

—---

Starvation training is going good. It’s been 6 days since her last meal and she hasn’t broken yet.

—---

The subject seems to be avoiding others, that's good for now

—---

The subject refused to drink anything again today. We’ll have to use an IV

—---

The subject is doing well with most of her training. She’s being prepared for her introduction with the other two subjects.

—---

The subject wasn’t working well with the other two until a little into the session. They’ll be good together

—---

Training has been adjusted to better match the three of them. However the subjects appear to be getting too close.

—---

As feared, the subjects became too close to each other. Subject 673 was killed.

—---

The subject was autopsied and put back together with the Enhanced Lazarus Pit liquid injected into her heart at the end. 

—---

Her vitals are returning to normal and she should be ready to go soon. Her blood has started to change color.

—---

The first training session has revealed an increase in physical ability. This will do wonders for our goal.

—---

The subject has started showing signs of increased hostility, right now sh-

It abruptly cut off and blood could be seen at the bottom of the paper. There was nothing to help there. Just a list and descriptions of the horrors the three went through. That left their only hope in the notebook.

The three boys had seen enough, they had spent the last 7 months getting closer to them only to have them ripped from them and then shown the horrors the three had grown up with. But they needed to find them. They needed to save them. And they needed information for that

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[littlefirefly42]

Glass

Pairing: CG!Natasha/Little!Wanda

Summary: While Natasha is out getting groceries, Wanda breaks a glass and slips, and chaos ensues until mama nat comes home to comfort her baby.

Warnings: Panic attack; blood; impure regression

~~~

Wanda knew she was going to slip soon. But she also knew she and Natasha had to eat, so Nat was going to have to make a grocery run, meaning she'd be home alone without her caregiver for the next half hour.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Nat asked, putting her phone and keys in her hoodie pocket. Wanda nodded.

"Yeah, I have to do the dishes anyway. I'll be alright." It was a lie, and they both knew it. Wanda was slightly swaying back and forth, which she only did right before she slipped. Still, they couldn't not eat dinner. Against her better judgment, Natasha sighed an "okay."

"But baby, if you feel little, even just a tiny bit, please call me okay? I'll come straight back home."

Shit. The nicknames were not helping Wanda stay big. Since she didn't trust herself to speak, she just nodded and smiled reassuringly. Then Natasha was out the door, and Wanda took a few breaths, trying to ground herself. There weren't a lot of dishes in the sink, and she decided that if she got through them quickly she could watch a scary movie or something and hopefully keep herself from regressing tonight. That turned out to be a very bad idea she realized, while trying to dry a glass. A firetruck siren startled her, and the glass slipped from her grasp, shattering on the tile. Wanda immediately slipped and began to cry, both the noise and the mess terrifying her. She kneeled down to pick up the pieces, only to yelp in pain as little bits of glass cut into her knees and shins. She sobbed harder, scrambling to her feet and trying to brush the glass off. Mama will be so mad. Wanda began to hyperventilate. Everything was too loud and bright. Her legs stung. The thought of her mama coming home to the mess and the still-dirty dishes deepened her panic, and she frantically started picking up the biggest shards and shoving them in the trash. She cut her palm on one, and it started to bleed. A lot. Wanda screamed, really screamed, and backed into a corner, where she fell to the ground, curled in a ball, rocked back and forth, and sobbed into her knees. That's how Natasha found her ten minutes later, when she returned with the groceries.

"Wanda, oh my gods!" Natasha dropped her grocery bags and kneeled in front of her baby. "Hey, hey, hey. It's alright. Mama's here."

Wanda lifted her head and let loose another sob. "Sor-ry." she managed.

Natasha glanced at the broken glass. "It's okay baby, It's okay, I'm not mad. Can you take a deep breath for me?"

Wanda continued to hyperventilate, trying her best to breathe in. Eventually she managed a shaky inhale.

"You're doing such a good job sweetie, keep breathing for mommy okay?"

Wanda nodded and took another breath, this one a little steadier than the last.

"We need to get you cleaned up sweetie pie. Do you want to walk to the bathroom or do you want me to carry you?"

Wanda whimpered and made grabby hands at Natasha, who picked her up and carried her to the bathroom, placing her on the covered toilet and turning the water on to fill the tub.

"Do you want bubbles angel?"

Wanda sniffled and nodded. Natasha smiled at her baby and put bubbles in the bath water. Then she helped Wanda undress and get in.

"I'm going to go clean up, okay sweetie? I'll be right back." The glass didn't take long to clean up. Natasha put a pot of water to boil on the stove so she could make dinner, then returned to the bathroom, where Wanda was fully invested in the bubbles. Natasha scrubbed her gently with soap and managed to get her to wet her hair so it could be washed, something little Wanda despised and was particularly fussy about tonight. Natasha let it slide this once, because her baby was having a rough night.

"Are you ready to get out angel?" Natasha asked when she finished Wanda's hair.

"Mhm!" Wanda let her mama wrap her in a towel and sit her back on the toilet. Natasha examined all of her cuts and made sure there was no glass still in them, then dressed them in seasme street bandaids because, well, seasme street. Then, once Wanda was dry and clothed, Natasha brought her to the kitchen and sat her down on a chair while she finished making dinner. While she was stirring edemame beans into the pot of pasta, Wanda climbed away silently and returned with a hairbrush and her stuffed pig, Puzzle. Wanda had named him after the brown spot on his back, commenting that it looked like a puzzle piece. She nudged her mama to get her attention and held up the hairbrush.

"Brush?" She asked hopefully. Natasha smiled. Wanda hated having her hair washed, but she loved having it brushed. It was never tangled enough to hurt her, and Nat was very gentle.

"Sure bug. Go wait for me in the living room okay?" She scooped some mac and cheese into a bowl and filled a sippy with apple juice, then joined Wanda on the couch and handed her the food.

"Tank you mama!" Wanda exclaimed, swinging her legs happily.

"Of course baby. You want to watch Seasme Street?"

"Yeah!"

Natasha put on the show, then began gently brushing Wanda's damp hair.

"I 'uv you mama." Wanda whispered.

"I love you too, angel."