#the commander is the shadow leader of the alliance

[bonefall]

Better Bones AU: History Lesson

(A new, updated version of an old history lesson, with some new names and the hopes of being a better summary. Refer to this one over the old one!)

[ID: Ferncloud from Warrior Cats is lecturing Lionkit, Jaykit, and Hollykit.]

Teaching history in the Clans became an important feature after the defeat of Ripplestar near the beginning of the Chivalric Period. While elders are seen as the chroniclers of history, a dedicated Educator takes on the role of making sure each litter learns everything they need to know.

During the Settlement Era, ThunderClan's educator Ferncloud teaches the kits of ThunderClan about glyphs, the basic tenets of the Warrior Code, and an overview of history.

As of the newest arc, there have been 5 Periods so far, with each period being broken down into 3 Eras and side stories. Those are;

ANCIENT PERIOD Dawn Era, Code Era, Skyfall Era

CHIVALRIC PERIOD Ripple Era, Crusade Era, Campaign Era.

THISTLE PERIOD Broken Era, Tiger Era, Fire Era

HOMING PERIOD Journey Era, Settlement Era, Eclipse Era

MODERN PERIOD Reunion Era, Reckoning Era, Current Day

In addition, there is also a Prehistoric Period, which is only remembered by Clan cats through the tales of LionClan, LeopardClan, and TigerClan. The truth is even stranger than the mythological animals they tell stories about.

See: Hollyleaf's Century.

Ancient Period (1920s - 1970s)

Dawn Era

Thunderstar's Justice

Moth Flight's Vow

In the Dawn Era, the five ancient founders settled the Forest. From the North came the Clans, lead down from the mountains by Gray Wing the Wise. From the south came Warriors, following a king, Arc of the Park.

Gray Wing died in a fateful accident while saving his right-hand man, Shaded Flower. Clear Sky managed to keep the group together through his sheer strength, settling them into the forest. This all changed when a horrible accident caused the leg of Clear Sky's brother, Jagged Peak, to be permanently twisted.

His own brother and the leader of the Clan at the time, Clear Sky, cast him out. His pregnant mate, Bright Storm, protested this cruelty and tried to care for Jagged Peak all winter long. Her efforts were in vain as he starved to death, and the spirit of Gray Wing responded to this by sending her a hero and a sign;

Bright Storm's litter had one survivor, a ginger tabby named Thunder Storm, missing its leg in the same place where its uncle had lost his. They brought the child back to the group.

Refusing to learn his lesson, Clear Sky rejected the child just like he'd done to Jagged Peak. This time, many families did not abide the cruelty, headed by Tall Shadow. This caused the split between Sky's Clan and Shadow's Clan. Shadow's Clan came into constant conflict with the Wind Coalition, Thunder Storm broke off Thunder's Clan many years later after a great injustice, Tall Shadow's exile of Bumble, and he eventually struck up an alliance with the River Kingdom.

Rising political tension culminated in Sky's Clan taking the prince of the River Kingdom, River's Ripple, as a hostage. The First Battle broke out between all five groups at Fivetrees, a bloodbath with so much carnage that the bodies could not be buried in one day.

StarClan broke the battle with a flash of lightning, coming down from the heavens to offer each leader a revelation, and a reward. The reward being that each leader would get 9 lives to lead their Clans, and better understand the cats within them, as long as they gave a proper burial to each cat killed in the pointless fight.

The first two Commandments of the Warrior Code were made on this day-- the Law of the Land establishing borders, and the Law of Honor, which states that a true warrior does not need to kill in order to win their battles.

And thus ended the Dawn Era, and started the Code Era.

Code Era

Riverstar's Heir

Because this was before the Clans taught history, most of the Code Era is remembered in parables associated with the creation of Commandments 3 thru 8. It's also MUCH longer than most other Eras, with many of these parables being several generations apart.

The first addition to the warrior code happened with the death of the incredibly long-lived founder, King Riverstar. His openness and free approach towards love resulted in there being several contenders to the throne, inadvertently leading to the collapse of the River Kingdom.

With the addition of Code 3, the Law of the Deputy, the five groups became Clans in the sense they're known today.

The cats in these code parables are so old and so storied that they are seen as deities in StarClan, prayed to and invoked by the living. Examples being Daisytail, Patron of Protection and Parenthood, and Redscar, Patron of Arbitration and Decision-Making.

Later, the fourth commandment, the Law of Loyalty, was made in response to the open love of Ryewhisker and Cloudberry. It banned interclan mateships and closed off the groups in a way unseen since the Dawn Era, and ignited the ancient tradition of Kitten Stealing.

Unknown to the living, in protest of such an evil law, Ryewhisker and Cloudberry willingly joined the Dark Forest. They are two of the oldest spirits there.

An accurate chronicle truly begins with the Skyfall Era.

Skyfall Era

Cars, brand new highways, and suburban expansion started to cut into the Forest as the humans entered a new era... not that the Clans knew why it was happening. Kittypets, associated with these humans, started to be seen more negatively than ever before.

This Era is named for, and defined by, the loss of SkyClan.

Commandment 9, the Law of the Wild, was made in response to SkyClan cats defecting to live as housecats; "A true warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet."

As their territory evaporated below their paws, SkyClan was blamed for everything out of their control. To this day, this era is framed as a cautionary tale to kittens, "What happens to a Clan when they stop living by the Code." In a famous final plea, SkyClan was turned away and exiled.

Their ancestors, 1/5th of StarClan, went with them... except for Skystar who remained in Silverpelt, revered as a Patron of Battle.

The Clerics of the four remaining clans protested the exile ferociously, banding together to go on strike until SkyClan was returned. To break it and bring their medics back under control, the Medicine Cat's Vow was codified into law.

Previously, it had been a personal vow between Clerics, one with no enforcement behind it. Not taking a mate or having kittens was to always keep medicine above Clan loyalty; but the code was enshrined to make a Cleric put Clan loyalty above all else. A corrupted vow. Dalestar of WindClan smeared his Cleric, Larkstripe, as a hypocrite and sent her kitten away.

See: Larkstripe

And thus ended the strike, and the Ancient Period, as the following Chivalric Period began.

Chivalric Period (1970s - Late 1990s)

Ripple Era

Ripplestar's Rot

Larkstripe's kitten was raised at Birdsong's belly in ShadowClan, the adopted brother of Gorseclaw and Spottedpelt. Ripplemoon understood it was a great injustice that SkyClan had been exiled, and vowed to make room for his siblings' father and Clan to return home.

Meanwhile, the 5th Oak at Fivetrees was beginning to rot. The Ripple Era was named for this time of tumult, ending with a crash as Ripplestar's war came to a bloody halt.

After the death of the 5th Oak, Fivetrees becomes Fourtrees, widely considered a sign that a Clan that cannot keep its borders does not deserve to have them. THREE new laws were added to the Warrior Code, all of them related to making cats more loyal.

The Full Moon Truce, ruling that cats were not to fight or argue at gatherings

The First Tasks, a set of pre-existing traditions now codified, that all apprentices had to complete upon becoming warriors

The Leader's Rights... to not be disobeyed.

The Clan Pride Tide that followed ignited war and chaos, considered to be the 'chivalric ideal' of Clan society. The battles were glorious, and never before were cats so honorable and ferocious. Punishments were harsh and severe... such as the one for a certain mother who took a halfclan mate, and was given 3 ill-fated kittens by StarClan.

And this punishment truly ended the Ripple Era, and lead to the Crusade Era.

Crusade Era

Darkstar's Commandment

Pinestar's Crusade

When a false sign from StarClan was misinterpreted by the Cleric of ThunderClan (unknown to all: Birchface was a rogue StarClan warrior who sent it), Oakstar ferociously exiled Mapleshade and her three kittens in the midst of a storm. With nowhere to go, she tried to bring her children across the river to their father's Clan. They did not survive.

Darkstar refused to even allow her to bury the kittens in RiverClan. Mapleshade exacted her revenge, taking out 3 cats before being taken out herself. Furious at the injustice and murder, StarClan damned every cat involved, and gave Darkstar and Oakstar a command; to NEVER let this happen ever again.

Darkstar created Darkstar's Commandment, that all kittens were to be protected regardless of origin, and no one would be compelled to reveal the other parent of their kittens. This is known as the Queen's Rights.

See: Queen's Rights

Oakstar opposed this change at first, until he was beaten by Darkstar and forced to accept this new law. Fearing that StarClan would be furious with him, he attempted to please them by starting crusades against the cats of Chelford.

These Crusades lead to the creation of BloodClan, to defend Chelford cats against Clan invasion. From this point it evolved into a system of governance unique to itself.

See: Brief BloodClan Guide

WindClan and ShadowClan joined in on these raids for several years, with only RiverClan abstaining. Between the cats of the forest there was an era of odd 'peace' as they had new targets to battle for honor... until Heatherstar took power.

The Campaign Era reignited inter-Clan hostility.

Campaign Era

Tallstar's Collapse

Brokenstar's Cataclysm

Stormpaw's Demon

Bluestar's Flowers

Heatherstar of WindClan flexed her ambition by launching a campaign to take the Mothermouth Moorland from ShadowClan, setting off a cascade of renewed inter-Clan hostility. It caused ShadowClan to hold territory from ThunderClan, ThunderClan to re-take Sunningrocks, and RiverClan to assert control over the Gorge, causing periodic four-way fights between them in ways unseen since the Ripple Era.

WindClan lost the tradition of tunneling in this Era; as it isn't useful for the total war that Heatherstar needed to take such a huge chunk of territory.

In the later half of this Era, a group of young cross-Clan friends started to meet in secret. Bluemoon of ThunderClan, Hoprunner and Ashfoot of WindClan, Lizardstripe of ShadowClan, Oakheart of RiverClan, and Barley Senior of BloodClan.

They called themselves the Forget-Me-Nots, and it was the beginning of the ideology known as Fire Alone. Bluemoon's love of her friends, and the loss of her family in pointless battles, made her realize that something needed to change.

And yet, this era gave birth to something much more rotten. As the Clans hardened and started to see the more brutal parts of the code as fundamentally opposed to its softer laws, the tenets that would found Thistle Law began to form.

See: Thistle Law

Named for a painful lesson that Thistleclaw taught his apprentice, Bluestar's rise to power stalled its implementation for a few more safe years. It was the ironic negotiation of a Peace Deal to end the Mothermouth Moorland war which ended the Chivalric Period, and birthed the Thistle Period.

Thistle Period (Late 1990's - 2008)

Broken Era

Spottedleaf's Plague

After generations of fighting, Raggedstar of ShadowClan was old, tired, and wanted only to see peace for his last years of life. He went to end the war and stop fighting for the Mothermouth Moorland which had been contested for so long.

His son and deputy, Brokentail, killed him before he had the chance.

The rise of Brokenstar was the first true implementation of Thistle Law. His followers believed that the only way to truly win a war was to destroy the opposition-- completely. As Heatherstar had done before by sacrificing tunneling, Brokenstar, too, was prepared to make sacrifices.

In just a few short years using brutal tactics like poison claws, traps, and apprentice-targeting, ShadowClan had shredded WindClan's numbers. The final bloody event in this eradication was the WindClan Massacre, a full assault on their camp, and ShadowClan had even broken the code by bringing inexperienced warriors to battle. Casting out a full Clan was considered evil and barbaric.

Rebels formed in this time, but without help, they would have stood no chance against the popular Brokenstar.

It was Bluestar of ThunderClan and her young champion, an ex-kittypet called Firepaw, who agreed to lend their aid. Guided by the words of a prophecy, "Fire Alone Will Save The Clans," Bluestar instilled in her apprentice a new way of seeing the world.

With Brokenstar deposed, Bluestar sent her champion again to fetch WindClan. They gave ShadowClan space to recover, defended the weakened WindClan against River and Shadow, and even accepted a blinded Brokenstar out of mercy. At all turns, Bluestar embodied justice and chivalry...

Or so the ThunderClan history lessons say. Others like to put more emphasis on the growing darkness behind Tigerclaw.

Tiger Era

Tigerstar's Paws

It officially began when Tigerstar took power in ShadowClan. TigerClan lasted for only six horrible moons and defines the shortest era in the history lessons, but its story is told with horror and hushed tones.

Dozens of cats died, in raids and in executions. Prey was stolen from other territories and slaughtered en-mass to build a ridiculous, reeking monument of bones. There wasn't even enough to build a solid hill, so Tigerstar demanded they create a pointless facade over mud just for his ego.

But all of this was still not enough for him, and he contacted BloodClan to negotiate the Impossible Deal. They would have half of the Forest, if they helped him kill his enemies. Scourge did not trust Clan cats, but against his better judgement, as if the heavens were whispering in his ear... he agreed.

The Era came to a crashing halt when Tigerstar attacked his ally and Scourge famously opened him up in two hits. A very special song was made about this moment; Tiger's In A Heap.

Fire Era

Cinderpelt's Solution

Firestar's Quietus

The Tiger in RiverClan

Tigerstar had made a deal, and Scourge intended for it to be upheld. Half of the forest was rightfully his, and he would evict any Clan cats who he found living on it, tired of their dishonorable ways. He gave them three days to clear out.

Firestar was able to convince the four Clans to unite as one to defend against this threat, but he had a revelation. Scourge wasn't wrong. Clan cats had acted dishonorably with him, making promises they didn't intend to keep, attacking him when he didn't obey like a minion. In spite of being Bluestar's champion and successor, Firestar himself had been treated as if he was lesser, just for his birth.

To Scourge, and to Rusty, the Clans HAD been dishonorable. The Code ended at the border and treated outsiders as less-than-cats.

When the battle with BloodClan began, Firestar and Scourge faced off. The battle was legendary. In a fateful move, Firestar slammed the leader of BloodClan to the ground, and ripped his collar clean off. "A true warrior does not need to kill to win their battles."

Calling for a retreat with his life, Scourge left his collar behind on the battlefield. Firestar returned it, and opened up new negotiations with the humbled leader. "We have won our right to the forest, but speak to me; how much of Tigerstar's impossible deal can we honor for you?"

The answer was so simple as to be ridiculous. They wanted materials like wood, nice-smelling flowers, and new kinds of food. Things that they couldn't find in the dumpsters and gray pavement of twolegplace, and BloodClan could offer materials of their own to trade.

The Fire Era allowed the Thistle Period to have a brief, but sweet time of peace. This time of cooperation ended in a horrible ball of chaos, as the forest was destroyed by man and the cats had to go on a long journey.

Homing Period (2007 - 2018)

Journey Era

As the forest was destroyed, the Clans sought guidance from StarClan. The Clerics went to the Mothermouth, as was expected in those days. Cinderpelt, Littlecloud and Cinderpelt's apprentice Leafstripe were slightly late, as usual, taking their time getting there to have their bi-weekly chat.

When they arrived, they found Mothwing frantically digging at a collapsed rockfall. If they hadn't been late, they too would have died. Mudfur and Barkface were dead. The remaining Clerics dug until their claws were bloody, then fell asleep where they stood.

Leafstripe of ThunderClan received a prophecy. Four chosen cats must follow the Brightest Star, and find them a new home. These four cats were sent by each Clan; Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt, Feathertail, and Crowfoot. Squirrelpaw and Stormfur joined them, without permission.

As they went on a quest that would come to be known as the Sundrown Patrol, the four Clans suffered through many hardships. ThunderClan was forced out of its camp, WindClan was poisoned and ensnared, RiverClan pushed for Sunningrocks as the river dried up, and ShadowClan's marshland was filled in.

After the patrol returned to free several cats who had been trapped by humans, the Clans left hastily to begin the Great Journey.

Something changed on that trip together. For the first time ever, the four Clans had to rely on each other, and see things the way they could be. The apprentices and kits in particular walked away with a unique mindset about cooperation, summed up with a special dish they created together known as Paw Soup.

But of course, it did not last. On reaching the lake and discovering the Moonpool, Leafstripe received three new prophecies.

"Blood will spill blood and the lake will run red."

"Fire and tiger will clash and burn together into ash"

"The first of the lake will guide WindClan."

Her name was changed to Leafpool, an honor title to reflect her powerful seeing abilities.

After the death of Tallstar and the hasty rise of Onewhisker to power, Mudclaw decided that this prophecy must mean that the first cat to see the lake after the Great Journey would lead WindClan. Since he lead the first patrol here, he was especially convinced that it meant him.

(Unknown to him, it was referring to his child, Kestrelflight, who would be the first kitten born at the lake. Shortly followed by his brothers Harestar and Owlclaw, Hare and Kestrel were given to Mudclaw's brother Torear shortly after their birth while Whitewater kept Owl.)

Mudclaw's Rebellion spiraled into a conflict involving cats of all Clans, lead in by Hawkfrost. After a failed assassination attempt on Onewhisker's life, StarClan was so furious at Mudclaw's insolence that they smote him with a falling tree.

When this failed, Hawkfrost became desperate, getting three Tribe cats temporarily cast out of RiverClan, and attempting to kill Firestar to put Brambleclaw into leadership. When Brambleclaw hesitated, Mothwing sprang out of a bush to rescue the leader, and Brambleclaw fought his brother. But, he was unable to land the fatal blow, and Hawkfrost lunged for his sister... only to impale himself on the stake she was holding.

As the lake ran red with tiger blood, Brambleclaw stepped down from his deputyship, and Brackenfur took power. Mothwing returned with the body of her brother, but her troubles were not yet over. The cats of RiverClan who had participated in WindClan's rebellion didn't believe it was an accident, and Leopardstar did nothing about these accusations.

Mistyfoot realized that something had to be done. Hawkfrost was a victim as much as he was a perpetrator, and these ideas had to be pulled up at the root.

Every Clan has a different moment for where the Journey Era ended. ShadowClan believes it's when they arrived in their new home. WindClan thinks the death of Mudclaw feels right. ThunderClan sees it as the appointment of Brackenfur as deputy. RiverClan marks it at the sudden death of Leopardstar to a rogue, bludgeoned to death on a rock.

Homing Era

An unprecedented time of peace, never seen before, nor since. These days have come to be seen as halcyon, divided up into 'episodes' of conflict and interesting tales.

Some of these episodes are,

The Shinewater Plague

When a twoleg truck veered off a thunderpath and spilled gallons of shining poison into RiverClan territory, Mistystar had to decide what kind of leader she wanted to be. In this instance, she accepted help in spite of what some of the harsher cats of her Clan demanded.

ShadowClan's Lichen Rebog Project

Arriving at the lake was hard for ShadowClan, as the rivers in their territory were deep and their land was largely useless pines. Blackstar commanded an ambitious terraforming project, blocking up the rivers and controlling the flooding to turn their land into a marsh. ThunderClan offered their help, as usual.

Ripwater's Devastation

A giant, monstrous fish lurked in the depths of the lake, sucking down a RiverClan apprentice into the abyss and making fishing dangerous for any cat going for a swim. Ripwater needed to be dealt with, but RiverClan had never killed something as large as a boar, let alone larger.

Salt Patrol

This was the first time that the Clans had regular access to gathering their own salt, an important medicine for treating infection and parasites. There were times that apprentices of all Clans would converge, by coincidence, for a beach episode.

The Tribe's Rogues

Taken aback by the fact the Tribe cats ask for help even when they have a choice, Clan cats grapple with what this says about their own upbringings.

See: The expanded notes on how the Tribe visit has been completely reduxed to fix its problematic elements.

The Three, who would come to be known in story and legend, grew up in this period, exploring themselves, their friends, and the culture around them.

This time of kindness came to a tragic end in the Battle of the False Eclipse, and the Cruel Season that followed it.

Angered by ThunderClan's meddling in their affairs, WindClan and RiverClan attacked them and pulled all the Clans into a lake-wide brawl that was only ended by a flash of darkness. Sol showed them a taste of what was to come just a few years later, when the planes of reality would collide.

The Dark Forest had been making its moves and sewing seeds of discord within disgruntled cats of the Clans, involving them in a plan to snatch godhood from the stars. Their first major move was the 'accidental' killing of Brackenfur in the Battle of the False Eclipse, and the fire in ThunderClan that came later, as cover for killing Firestar.

And so, Bramblestar ascended to power with Squilf as his first deputy, Thornclaw as the second after Hollyleaf spilled a secret, and the young prodigy vanished into the tunnels for many years. A third cat of great prophecy was born to her brother.

See: Hollyleaf, just, this whole post

Eclipse Era

Uniting a group of cats with almost nothing in common, Tigerstar planned to usurp StarClan and become the new deities of the four Clans. He relied heavily on his son, Hawkfrost, to be his diplomat and keep the unstable alliance together just long enough to accomplish his goals.

Lionblaze and Jayfeather learned there was a plot, but didn't know how to infiltrate it. Lionblaze sent his daughter, Ivypool, in to spy on the demons and their schemes. Hawkfrost became her Dark Forest mentor.

The Dark Forest plan: replace every cat in power with a trainee before the night of the True Eclipse, to make their takeover easier. Simple enough. Harder was coordinating a bunch of trainees with completely different motivations.

See: Motivations of Dark Forest trainees

Firestar and Brackenfur were first. Sedgecreek and Mistystar, Ashfoot and Onestar, Russetfur and Blackstar were next.

The Dark Forest succeeded in pitting ThunderClan and ShadowClan against each other, thanks to deputy Thornclaw's influence. After the death of Russetfur, Blackstar was absolutely devastated and prone to Sol's influence. This was ShadowClan's first collapse, but unfortunately, not its last.

Redwillow, Ratscar, and Applefur took power of the Clan in his absence, and leas to bloody infighting as they tried to hold onto it. It was Rowanclaw rallying Blackstar's family to remind him of how loved he was that brought him back around, calling forth enough manpower to overthrow the trainees and take ShadowClan back.

Just before the Eclipse was about to commence, Hollyleaf returned just in time to fight for her family.

Thanks to the information of cats like Ivypool, the Clans were able to prepare for the Night of the True Eclipse. Unfortunately, the days of the Homing Era were gone, and they had a hard time uniting as a front. While ShadowClan and ThunderClan were able to rally and limit their losses, WindClan and RiverClan remained individual targets.

Dovewing lead a coalition of cats to counter the Dark Forest wherever they attacked, her father Lionblaze trailing just behind. Jayfeather used his powers to summon cats from StarClan itself, using a stick stolen from Rock to resurrect a tree and pull down as many angels as could fit on its branches.

Though outnumbered and losing, Tigerstar had vowed to go out in a blaze of glory. Scourge under his left claws and Blackstar bleeding out a life to the right, Firestar himself came in to settle the score with his old foe.

Modern Period (2018 - Today)

Reunion Era

ThunderClan's Tempest

Heartstar's Rise

Following the terrible carnage of the Great Battle, a grand storm blew through the lake and brought flooding unlike anything ever seen before. In the aftermath, many of ShadowClan's carefully managed projects took a beating.

The other Clans were reluctant to lend their aid, in contrast to the peace and cooperation of the Homing Era. Frustrated by ShadowClan's first collapse and the lack of help they were receiving now, the youngest generation was desperate for radical change. Many of the dejected cats around the lake agreed, Dark Forest trainees, halfclan cats and lovers, codebreakers, and so on.

They were co-opted by a terrible actor. Darktail had infiltrated SkyClan, many miles away, and exploited their internal divisions. Sharpclaw, Rockshade, and cats like them joined his cause, and SkyClan had fled in the chaos. He offered his help to the struggling ShadowClan, and any Clan cats seeking a safe haven. Breezepelt and his fellow ex-trainees were some of them.

"Nevermind your borders and your battles and your bloodlines," Darktail announced, "We will all be the Kin." Slowly, each of these things he spoke against became central to his movement.

WindClan, lead by Onestar, reacted severely. He put a complete embargo on any Clan lending aid, even denying them medicine during a terrible outbreak of Yellowcough. When ShadowClan fell apart, the Kin absorbed it completely and became an unstoppable force.

Heathertail couldn't handle the horrible cruelty of her father, and joined them hoping to get her half-brother's side of the story.

This was when The Kin started expanding, targeting their neighbors for territory. It was only through the return of SkyClan that the cult was able to be defeated, and because of their role in the final confrontation, it was agreed they had a claim to the Lake.

In memory of the conflict, and with respect to the destroyed ShadowClan, a new commandment was added to the code. The Law of the Lake demands that in times of stress, no Clan may allow another to falter and disband.

Rowanstar intended to live the last of his days in shame, having watched Dawnpelt die, his Clan disband, and Tigerheart vanish. Tigerheart returned only to die in a horrible accident, and Rowan refused to watch his last child be taken from him.

Drowning away his lives in the Moonpool so Heartstar could rise, the Era ends with the resurrection of ShadowClan.

Reckoning Era

Squirrelflight's Horror

Tawnypelt's Mountain

Ferncloud's Parting

SkyClan joining the lake and ShadowClan reforming caused struggles for territory. It was already a tight squeeze for ShadowClan before they joined, and accommodating an extra Clan would require careful diplomacy.

Unfortunately, Bramblestar had other plans. It got into his head that his deputy, Squirrelflight, was undermining him and he played a pointless game with his power. Joining Heartstar in an ill-fated invasion on a nomadic group, ThunderClan lost the respected senior Cleric and discoverer of the Moonpool, Leafpool.

But in those days, there was nothing that could be done about a bad leader besides violent revolution. Any telling of this era of history starts with these events, to establish why ThunderClan did not quickly realize their leader had been replaced by an Impostor only a few moons later, and why they didn't immediately do anything about it.

This impostor's first action was to announce his plans at a peaceful gathering. While losing a life, StarClan had told him they were disappointed and furious at the lack of a reckoning for the cats who had been disloyal in the previous two eras. HalfClan cats, insurgents, and other Codebreakers must be punished and brought in line, to return the Clans to a better time.

Most leaders agreed with this sentiment, and loosely implemented tests of loyalty. It wasn't enough for the Imposter, who was particularly insulted by Bristlefrost codebreaking within his own Clan to see Rootspring of SkyClan.

So at the next gathering, he called together the five Clans, implored them one more time to truly punish their Codebreakers or else StarClan would never come back, and finished his speech by ripping open Bristlefrost's neck.

Over the screams of the crowd, the full, uncovered moon shined bright. He pointed up with his bloodied paw, citing its light as StarClan's approval.

It wasn't the first time an unblemished moon meant cruelty, and SkyClan refused to be part of this evil game. Conflict escalated into a full-blown civil war, leading to scores of dead cats, and the eventual cornering of the Impostor.

When he escaped into the Dark Forest with the ghosts of the fallen kept hostage, Squirrelflight organized a final push to free those who were trapped. These cats came to be known as Lights in the Mist:

Harelight (then called Harefur) and Mistystar of RiverClan

Ivypool and Ferncloud of ThunderClan

Rootspring and MacGyver of SkyClan

Shadowsight and Flowerscar of ShadowClan

Breezepelt and Leaftail of WindClan... after Breezepelt conked Crowfeather over the noggin to forcefully take his spot.

(Exact cats liable to change, particularly MacGyver, Flowerscar, and Leaftail)

In the final confrontation, Ashfur revealed his special powers, having killed and absorbed the ancient spirit Clear Sky as well as several other demons and angels. He was too powerful to defeat, in spite of the combined efforts of the Dark Forest, StarClan, and the Lights in the Mist. In a final, grand effort, Shadowsight used a lightning bolt coursing through his veins to hold the monster down, and Bristlefrost sacrificed her life and eternity knocking Ashfur out of the sky like a falling star.

They crashed to Earth as a pair of asteroids, leaving a crater that became a small pool on SkyClan's border.

This fight destroyed a region of StarClan, an in-between area known as the Meadow of Young Stars. Now a shattered plain unable to separate the Place of No Stars from Silverpelt, A guard defends the single unstable bridge between the lands.

See: StarClan 101

~Current Day~

Ferncloud died tragically after confronting her brother on that fateful mission, and ThunderClan mourns its educator. In respect and heartbreak, its elders have hesitated in choosing a new cat for this role.

With two Eras behind them, the Clans have been loosely speculating what the new name for this Period will become, what its theme will be. There's no way to know until it happens... and it's not as if all the Clans agree on where exactly the times begin and end.

In the meanwhile, a new commandment has been added to the code. It's called Bristlefrost's Law, and for the first time, there is now an official system for changing Clans to be with a mate or a partner. Not all like this change-- some call these cats 'Turnclaws,' and didn't think there was a problem with the way things were.

Bramblestar has been tired since his ordeal, and ThunderClan is hoping he will step down soon. Mistystar has also been slow and aching, but her son Reedwhisker is a fine deputy, and he will make a fine leader as well.

The Clans have gone through a hard time, but there seems to finally be a light at the end of the- oh hey what's Splashtail up to

[myfavouritefoodismilkbread]

Underworld Ties - Chapter 1: Blood Feud

Amidst the shadows of Seoul's underworld, Lee Know of Stray Kids Mafia finds himself entangled in a dangerous game of alliances and rivalries. When he crosses paths with a formidable adversary from the Kangs, tensions ignite, revealing a past fraught with unresolved tensions and undeniable attraction. As their worlds collide in a tumultuous dance of power and passion, they must navigate a treacherous path of loyalty, love, and betrayal.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, Lee Know centric, smut at some point, angst, slow burn, violence, guns, (mafia world related stuff). I am not good at warnings sorry.

Words: 1927

The city of Seoul buzzed with life under the cover of darkness, its streets a labyrinth of shadows and secrets that whispered tales of power and betrayal. In a secluded alleyway, Lee Know leaned against the weathered brick wall, his gaze sharp and vigilant beneath the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. Dressed in a finely tailored suit that spoke of authority and danger, he exuded an aura of controlled intensity—a leader in the ruthless world of Stray Kids Mafia.

Beside him stood Bang Chan, his second-in-command and closest ally, a man whose loyalty and strength were matched only by his strategic mind. His presence was a silent reassurance amidst the looming tension that hung thick in the air.

"Any word from our informants?" Lee Know's voice cut through the quietude, tinged with impatience and the weight of responsibility.

Bang Chan nodded, his expression grave. "The Kangs are making moves," he replied, voice low but carrying the certainty of truth. "They've secured a new shipment of arms from their contacts in Busan. It won't be long before they challenge our territory."

Lee Know's jaw tightened imperceptibly, his mind already racing with calculations and strategies. The Kangs. A name that ignited a firestorm of resentment and rivalry within him, a name synonymous with decades of bloodshed and vendetta. They were Stray Kids primary enemies, a rival mafia family with whom they had clashed time and again for dominance over Seoul's underworld.

"We can't afford to be caught off guard," Lee Know stated, his tone clipped and authoritative. "Increase surveillance on their key players. I want to know their every move."

Bang Chan nodded once in acknowledgment, his gaze unwavering. "Consider it done."

As Bang Chan departed to relay the orders to their operatives, Lee Know remained alone in the alleyway, his thoughts a whirlwind of memories and simmering animosity. Stray Kids had risen to power through grit and ruthlessness, their rise punctuated by hard-fought victories and bitter losses. They had carved out their territory with precision and determination, earning both fear and respect in equal measure.

But amidst the facade of strength and control, there lay a wound that refused to heal—a wound inflicted by the Kangs, a wound that festered with each passing day.

A rustle of movement drew Lee Know's attention, his senses sharp and attuned to the slightest disturbance. Across the street, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a grace that belied its purpose. Lee Know's hand instinctively went to the concealed weapon at his side, ready to defend himself against a potential threat.

But as the figure stepped into the sparse light of the alley, Lee Know froze—a familiar face that stirred a maelstrom of conflicting emotions within him.

It was you.

Your presence was a stark reminder of everything he despised and desired, a woman whose allegiance to the Kangs ran deeper than blood. Your gaze met his with a challenge that mirrored his own, a silent declaration of defiance and resolve.

"Lee Know," you spoke his name with a hint of mockery, your voice a cool melody in the stillness of the night. "I see you're still lurking in the shadows. Not much has changed."

Lee Know's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing at your taunt. "I could say the same for you," he retorted, his voice laced with restrained hostility. "Always skulking in the darkness, waiting for an opportunity to strike."

You tilted your head slightly, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "Opportunity is everywhere if you know where to look," you countered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or perhaps you've lost your edge, Lee Know. Too comfortable in your little kingdom."

Lee Know's fingers tightened around his weapon, the tension between you palpable and charged. "You have no idea what I'm capable of," he shot back, his words a thinly veiled threat.

"Likewise," you replied, your tone teasing yet edged with a dangerous undercurrent. "But tonight, we have more pressing matters to attend to. The Kangs are moving, and Stray Kids won't be far behind."

A bitter smirk tugged at Lee Know's lips, admiration mingling with resentment. "Always one step ahead," he remarked, a hint of grudging respect coloring his words. "I suppose that's why you're still breathing."

You shrugged nonchalantly, a glint of amusement dancing in your eyes. "Survival is an art," you quipped, your voice laced with a sharpness that cut through the tension between you. "And we both know how to paint with blood."

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, the weight of your shared history and conflicting loyalties pressing in from all sides. In another life, you might have been allies, comrades fighting a common enemy. But in this life, you were enemies, bound by duty and destiny to opposing sides of a brutal war.

Without warning, Lee Know lunged forward, his movements swift and calculated. His fist collided with the air where you had stood a moment ago, a whirl of fabric and fury. You sidestepped his attack with fluid grace, spinning on your heel to deliver a swift kick to his side.

The impact sent Lee Know staggering back, his breath catching in his throat. He recovered quickly, retaliating with a series of precise strikes aimed at your defenses. Each move was met with a counter, a dance of aggression and skill that echoed through the alley.

Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal—a knife flashed in your hand, deftly parrying Lee Know's blows. The alley reverberated with the sound of their struggle, a testament to the intensity of their rivalry.

"You fight well," Lee Know grunted, his voice strained with exertion as he pressed his advantage.

"You're not so bad yourself," you shot back, a smirk playing on your lips despite the intensity of the duel.

Their clash continued unabated, a flurry of strikes and blocks that pushed both combatants to their limits. The air crackled with tension, each moment teetering on the brink of victory or defeat.

Finally, with a decisive move, Lee Know disarmed you, his blade pressing against your throat in a silent threat. You froze, your eyes locked with his in a battle of wills that transcended the physical.

"You're mine," Lee Know breathed, his voice low and dangerous.

"Not tonight," you replied, your tone defiant yet tinged with a hint of something deeper.

With a fluid motion, you twisted out of his grasp, slipping from his hold with effortless grace.

"Until next time, Minho," you murmured, your voice a whisper carried on the wind as you turned to leave.

Lee Know watched you disappear into the darkness, the echo of your words lingering in the air like a promise unspoken. The blood feud between Stray Kids and the Kangs burned brighter than ever, fueled by pride, ambition, and the undeniable pull of a connection neither could ignore.

As he walked away, his thoughts drifted back to the past—the shared moments of rivalry and betrayal, now overshadowed by years of separation and enmity. The path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty.

The adrenaline of the confrontation with you still pulsed through Lee Know's veins as he retraced his steps through the shadowed alleys of Seoul. The city seemed quieter now, as if holding its breath in anticipation of the impending storm that threatened to engulf them all. His thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and unresolved tension, his every move calculated and deliberate.

Stray Kids' hideout loomed ahead—a nondescript building nestled among the bustling streets, its facade a mask for the operations that thrived within. As Lee Know approached, the heavy door swung open to admit him, revealing the dimly lit interior where his comrades awaited.

Bang Chan stood at the head of the room, his posture rigid with concern as he watched Lee Know enter. Around him, the other members of Stray Kids Mafia—Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin —were gathered, their expressions a mix of curiosity and readiness.

"Hyunjin intercepted one of the Kangs' runners tonight," Bang Chan began without preamble, his voice carrying the weight of their shared responsibilities. "They've secured a shipment of arms from Busan. The Kangs are gearing up for a move."

Lee Know nodded grimly, his gaze sweeping over his assembled team. "We anticipated as much," he replied, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of tension. "But tonight, something unexpected happened."

Curiosity flickered in the eyes of his comrades as Lee Know recounted the encounter with you in the alleyway—the taunts, the fight, and the uneasy standoff that had ensued. He spared no detail, each word laced with the raw intensity of their rivalry and the complex emotions that simmered beneath the surface.

"You fought her?" Han interrupted, his voice incredulous yet tinged with admiration. "And she got away?"

Lee Know's jaw clenched imperceptibly, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "It wasn't about capturing her," he clarified, his tone brooking no argument. "It was about sending a message. The Kangs are testing our resolve, and we cannot afford to show weakness."

Changbin exchanged a knowing glance with Felix, his expression thoughtful. "She's always been a wildcard," he mused aloud, his voice a murmur of contemplation. "But why now? Why escalate tensions when they know we're prepared?"

Bang Chan stepped forward, his gaze piercing as he addressed the group. "The Kangs are not known for subtlety," he stated, his voice a quiet command. "Whatever their motive, we need to be ready. Increase patrols, secure our borders, and keep a close eye on their movements."

The room fell into a tense silence as each member absorbed the gravity of the situation. They knew the stakes—the delicate balance of power that hung in the balance, the ever-present threat of betrayal and bloodshed. In the world they inhabited, trust was a rare commodity, and alliances were forged in the crucible of conflict.

"We can't afford to underestimate them," Seungmin spoke up, his voice steady despite the weight of uncertainty that lingered in the air. "If they're making a move, it means they see weakness in our defenses."

Lee Know nodded in agreement, his mind already racing with strategies and contingencies. "Then we'll show them we're stronger than ever," he asserted, his voice ringing with conviction. "Prepare for whatever comes next. The Kangs may have started this game, but we will finish it."

With a collective nod of determination, the members of Stray Kids Mafia dispersed, each retreating to their assigned tasks with a sense of purpose and resolve. Alone once more in the heart of their hideout, Lee Know allowed himself a moment of solitude to reflect on the events of the night.

The memory of you lingered like a shadow in his mind—a reminder of a past that had shaped them both, of wounds that had yet to heal. The rivalry between Stray Kids and the Kangs ran deep, fueled by pride, ambition, and the unyielding desire for dominance. But amidst the chaos and danger that defined their world, a different kind of tension simmered beneath the surface—a tension born of unfinished business and a connection that defied reason.

As he settled into the quiet solitude of his office, Lee Know knew one thing for certain:

In the deadly game of mafia, where alliances were forged with blood and broken with betrayal, the line between enemies and something more was as thin as a razor's edge.

And he was about to tread that line with more caution—and more recklessness—than ever before.

[magicariot]

A Little of Magica Riot's Supporting Cast

We've talked a little bit about our heroes, but no magical girl is an island. Here's a little bit about some of the other characters around Magica Riot: the staff of the Portland branch of the Starlight Alliance, the global magical girl agency that works in the shadows to keep the planet safe. Plus, a girl who's the best friend of our protagonist.

Commander Meredith McCoy is a middle-aged former rancher from southern Oregon who helped organize her community to put down an ultra-right-wing local government takeover & fascist compound, and wound up being recruited by the Alliance to become the leader of the Portland division. A tough, smart woman who speaks with a drawl, Commander McCoy is intensely dedicated to the safety of her magical girls and to the Alliance's mission of defending the powerless against otherworldly threats. She works closely with the members of Magica Riot to ensure the success of their magical girl operations.

Doctor Marisol Barrera is the Alliance's Portland medical officer. She wears many hats - physician, medical researcher, paranormal xenobiologist - and takes care of the physical and mental health of the members of Magica Riot, as well as heading up research efforts into the beings the girls fight, such as the mysterious creatures known as the Pandora Corruption. Dr. Barrera cares deeply about the girls, and will absolutely put her own life on the line to save them if comes to that.

Saoirse O'Carolan is the magical armorer of the Portland division. Fiery and detail-oriented, she crafts the musical weapons wielded by the magical girls, transforming everyday guitars, basses, keytars, and drum kits into formidable tools. Despite her eccentricities and short-fuse temper, few human beings know their way around thaumatite crystals like Saoirse.

Hazel Hoffman is the kind of girl who spends her days surrounded by stacks of 35mm film cameras, old tokusatsu VHS tapes, and dusty boxes of obscure vinyl records, a girl whose closet is stocked entirely with flannel and jeans. When she's not working as a clerk at independent video rental store Video Frenzy, she's deep in the Portland music scene. It's her love of local rock band Magica Riot that gets her best friend Claire into their fandom, which leads to one fateful night involving a magical girl awakening and Claire finally coming out of the closet in more ways that one...

[mononijikayu]

akuma no ko—ryomen sukuna.

Sukuna's gaze, once softened by shared memories and tender affection, now hardened into a steely resolve, the pain etched into the lines of his face transforming into something colder, more distant. His response, delivered with a quiet finality, cut through the air like a blade, severing the fragile threads that bound you together.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Miscarriage, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Miscarriage, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: akuma no ko by ai higuchi

note: there is four chapters left to write for this. this is just??? i cant believe ive written it this long. but i already planned the ending. im very excited for you all to see the end of this story with me. thank you for all your love!!! gojo also making parts here and there with this story, but he has a lot of things to say about his ancestor~ anyway i'll see you in the next chapter~ i love you!!!

LIFE WAS FULL OF SURPRISES. Seven years had passed since the destruction of the Ryomen clan. The warm summer days passed wondrously, a stark contrast to the turbulent years of rebuilding and war. You sat in the middle of the gardens, watching children play, their laughter a soothing balm to your weary soul. You had not expected your life to take this turn, but you supposed you could claim to be satisfied.

The war had grown ever larger, engulfing most of the clans in a web of alliances and enmities. The Zenin and the Kamo sided with the Fujiwara, while the Inumaki, the Ryomen, and the Gojo aligned against them. The Ryomen were still in the process of rebuilding, gathering old followers and new. The Mikoto were now upheld as the most trusted vassals of the Ryomen, with Masaomi always shadowing you, more so now that you were participating in the conflicts personally, leading your sorcerers against the Fujiwara.

As you watched the children, a sense of bittersweet nostalgia washed over you. The gardens, once a place of tranquility and beauty, had become a rare sanctuary amidst the chaos of war. The sight of the children, carefree and oblivious to the burdens you carried, brought a fleeting smile to your lips. They represented the hope for a future you were fighting so hard to secure.

Masaomi approached silently, his presence a constant and reassuring one. He bowed slightly before speaking, his voice respectful and steady. "The preparations for the next mission are complete, Ryomen-sama. Your sorcerers are ready and awaiting your command."

You nodded, standing up and brushing the grass from your clothes. "Thank you, Masaomi. Let's not keep them waiting." As you walked towards the assembled sorcerers, your mind shifted from the peaceful garden to the battle ahead. Each step you took was a reminder of the responsibility you bore, not just for your clan, but for the future these children represented.

The sorcerers gathered, their faces a mix of determination and reverence. They looked to you for guidance, their leader in this relentless struggle. You addressed them with a calm authority, the weight of your words underscored by the years of hardship you had all endured together.

"Today, we fight not just for our clan, but for the future we wish to build. Our enemies may be strong, but our resolve is stronger. We will reclaim what was taken from us and ensure that our legacy endures."

As you led your sorcerers into battle, the memory of the gardens and the children remained a beacon of hope. The war might rage on, but you were determined to see it through to the end. For the Ryomen, for the future, and for the promise of peace that seemed just within reach.

It was Masaomi who had orchestrated the daring escape, leading you and his own clan to safety across the borders. There, the Gojo clan awaited, their formidable presence a beacon of hope in the turmoil. The Gojo had welcomed you and your followers with open arms, providing sanctuary and respite. Suzaku Gojo, the head of the clan, was particularly glad to keep you as his guest for as long as possible.

However, amidst the warmth and hospitality, there were growing concerns. You have become more valuable than ever before. As the clan leader of the Ryomen and, more critically, as a woman in a position of power, you were a target. Men from rival clans and ambitious factions would undoubtedly seek to use you, aiming to impregnate you to seize the power of the Ryomen through blood and prestige.

Suzaku was acutely aware of these dangers. In a private conversation, he expressed his concerns, his demeanor serious and protective. "You are a beacon of strength for your people. Your brother saw that too. But that also makes you a target. There will be those who seek to take advantage of your position and lineage."

You met his gaze, appreciating his candor. "I am aware of the risks, Suzaku. But I won't let fear dictate my actions."

He nodded, his expression softening slightly. "And you shouldn't have to. I promise you, nothing will happen to you here. The Gojo clan will protect you and your people. You have my word."

His assurance was comforting, but the reality of your situation remained ever-present in your mind. As you navigated the treacherous waters of clan politics and warfare, Suzaku's promise was a beacon of hope. The Gojo clan's support bolstered your resolve, and with Masaomi by your side, you felt prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

In the days that followed, you found a semblance of peace within the Gojo estate. Suzaku's presence was a constant reassurance, his protective nature evident in the measures he took to ensure your safety. Yet, the specter of war loomed large, and you knew that the respite was only temporary.

The gardens of the Gojo estate became your sanctuary, a place where you could find solace and clarity. It was here, among the blooming flowers and serene pathways, that you gathered your thoughts and prepared for the battles ahead. The child's laughter, the warmth of the sun, and the unwavering support of your allies gave you the strength to continue.

The war was far from over, but with each passing day, you grew more determined. You would reclaim what was rightfully yours and build a future where the Ryomen clan could flourish. And in this journey, you knew you could count on Suzaku's promise and Masaomi's loyalty, guiding you through the darkness towards a brighter dawn.

A child runs towards you, snapping you out of your thoughts. The child's laughter fills the air, a sweet melody that brings a smile to your face. You run your hands through the child's hair, gazing down at him with your striking purple eyes. When he looks up at you, his eyes are revealed to be as blue as the sky.

"Mother," the child asks, his voice full of innocent curiosity, "when can I meet Father?"

You smile softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. "I do not know, my love. Your father is still busy with his duties."

The child pouts, his tiny brows furrowing. "Do you not like your mother, little one?" you tease gently.

"I love you equally, Mother!" the child exclaims, his pout quickly turning into a bright smile.

You laugh, the sound light and full of affection. Just as you are about to reply, a servant approaches and bows respectfully. 

"What is it?" you ask, your tone courteous yet curious.

"Lady Gojo, Lord Suzaku has arrived," the servant announces.

The child's face lights up with joy, and he jumps excitedly. "Father is home!"

You stand from your position, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. "Thank you." you say to the servant, who nods and steps back.

Hand in hand with your son, you make your way towards the entrance of the estate. The warm summer breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers, and the sound of the child's laughter echoes through the gardens. Despite the turmoil and uncertainty of the world outside, this moment, with your son by your side and the promise of reunion with Suzaku, brings a sense of peace and hope.

Gojo Suzaku entered the room quietly, his presence as gentle as ever. His eyes softened as they met yours, a small smile playing on his lips. He approached you, his steps light and measured, and you could feel the warmth and care emanating from him. Ever since your marriage, Suzaku had always been kind, but there was a newfound gentleness in his demeanor, a tenderness that had grown even more profound after the birth of your children. 

The soft glow of the lanterns bathed the room in a warm, golden hue as you sat by the window, gazing out at the serene garden. The blue hour was calm, and the air was filled with the subtle scent of blooming jasmine. The tranquil scene outside was a stark contrast to the turmoil you had recently faced in childbirth.

He approached you, his steps light and measured, and you could feel the warmth and care emanating from him. Ever since your marriage, Gojo Suzaku had always been kind, but there was a newfound gentleness in his demeanor, a tenderness that had grown even more profound after the birth of your children.

As Suzaku stepped further into the room, the door burst open, and a small whirlwind of energy bounded towards him. Seiryuu, your son, with his bright eyes and infectious laughter, leaped into Suzaku's arms with an exuberant shout.

"Father!" Seiryuu cried, wrapping his arms around Suzaku's neck.

Suzaku laughed, a deep, warm sound that filled the room. He lifted Seiryuu easily, holding him close. "Seiryuu, my boy! I've missed you."

Seiryuu's face was radiant with joy. "Did you bring me anything from your trip?"

Suzaku nodded, his smile widening. "Of course. But first, tell me, have you been helping your mother?"

Seiryuu nodded vigorously. "Yes, Father. I've been very good and training hard. I even practiced the new techniques you showed me!"

“And towards your sister?”

“I made sure to sing for her, father! Ma-chan adored my songs!” The boy beamed proudly.

Pride swelled in Suzaku's eyes as he glanced over at you. "That's my boy. I'm proud of you, Seiryuu."

Seiryuu beamed, his excitement barely contained. He wriggled in Suzaku's arms until he was set down, then rushed over to you, grabbing your hand. "Mother, come see what Father brought!"

Suzaku extended a hand to help you stand, his touch tender and supportive. Together, the three of you made your way to the lord's chambers. As you entered, everyone bowed lowly, reverence and respect evident in their gestures. You felt a mix of humility and pride wash over you. This was the acknowledgment that came with bringing the six-eyes into the world after a hundred years.

Suzaku led you to a comfortable seat, where you settled with Seiryuu by your side, his excitement palpable. Suzaku retrieved a beautifully wrapped package and handed it to Seiryuu.

"Go on, open it," Suzaku encouraged, his eyes sparkling.

Seiryuu tore into the wrapping with the eagerness of a child, revealing a finely crafted wooden sword and a small, intricate figurine of a dragon, its eyes resembling Seiryuu's own unique gaze.

"Wow!" Seiryuu exclaimed, holding up the gifts for you to see. "Look, Mother! It's amazing!"

You smiled, touched by Suzaku's thoughtfulness. "They are wonderful, Seiryuu. Your father always knows just what to bring."

Suzaku sat beside you, his arm around your shoulders. "I'm glad you like them, Seiryuu. They are to remind you of your heritage and your strength."

Seiryuu nodded solemnly, his young face filled with determination. "I'll make you both proud, I promise."

You placed a gentle kiss on Seiryuu's forehead, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "You already do, my love. Every day."

You smiled at Seiryuu, your heart swelling with pride at his enthusiasm and determination. For a moment, you savored the warmth of his presence, the bond between mother and son palpable in the air. Then, with a gentle pat on his shoulder, you parted from him and moved to position yourself comfortably, preparing to greet Suzaku as he entered the room.

As Suzaku stepped closer, you lowered yourself into a respectful bow, a gesture ingrained in the customs of your household. It was a sign of deference and respect, a recognition of Suzaku's position as both your husband and the lord of the land. But before you could complete the motion, Suzaku's hand was there, reaching out to help you up immediately.

You looked up, surprised by the sudden interruption, but the warmth in Suzaku's eyes melted away any hint of confusion. His touch was gentle yet firm as he lifted you upright, his expression filled with tenderness and care.

"None of that, my love," Suzaku said softly, his voice a soothing murmur. "You needn't bow to me. Not now, not ever."

His words were like a balm to your soul, easing any lingering tension and replacing it with a sense of profound gratitude. Suzaku had always treated you with kindness and respect, but in moments like these, his gestures spoke volumes of his love and admiration for you.

You smiled up at him, a softness in your gaze as you met his crimson eyes. "Thank you, Suzaku," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with genuine appreciation.

Suzaku's smile widened, his hand still resting gently on yours as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "Always, my dear. Always."

You allowed Suzaku's hand to assist you, feeling the comforting warmth of his touch as he guided you towards the sitting mats. Seiryuu sat nearby, his vibrant blue eyes alive with curiosity, a nursemaid attending to him attentively. The sight of your son brought a tender smile to your lips, his innocence and joy a welcome respite from the weight of your responsibilities.

As you settled onto the mats, the soft cushions providing a sense of comfort beneath you, you couldn't help but feel the gravity of your position. The role of wife to the lord of the land came with its own set of expectations and duties, and in moments like these, it was impossible to ignore the weight of those responsibilities. But Suzaku's gentle touch on your arm served as a reminder of the unwavering support you had in him, a pillar of strength upon which you could always rely.

Seiryuu, now nestled securely in his father's arms, giggled and played, oblivious to the solemnity of the moment. His laughter filled the room, a joyful melody that lifted your spirits and brought a sense of lightness to the air. It was a reminder of the simple joys in life, the moments of happiness that made the burdens of leadership bearable.

As you watched Suzaku and Seiryuu interact, a sense of gratitude washed over you. Despite the challenges you faced, you were surrounded by love and support, both from your husband and your son. In their presence, you found strength and courage, knowing that together, you could weather any storm that came your way.

With a contented sigh, you leaned back against the cushions, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the moment of peace and tranquility. The weight of your position may have been heavy, but in this brief respite, surrounded by the ones you loved most, it felt as though the burden had been lifted, if only for a fleeting moment. And as you closed your eyes, basking in the warmth of your family's embrace, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love that filled your life, making even the most daunting of challenges seem surmountable.

Suzaku smiles at you, his expression filled with pride and affection. "How have you been?" he asks, his concern genuine.

"I’ve been resting," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. "Masako has been keeping me awake. I've been a bit sore since birth, but I have been well.”

Suzaku nods, his expression serious yet understanding. Your pregnancies have never been easy on you. "And how has your rest been? Are you feeling better?"

You nod. "Yes, much better. The gardens are peaceful, and Seiryuu keeps me company."

Suzaku glances at your son, his eyes softening. "He is a remarkable child. Tengen-sama was most amicable during my trip, happy to know that everyone was well."

"Tengen-sama is most interested in Seiryuu," you say, acknowledging the connection between your son's six-eyes and Tengen-sama's interest. "Seeing his progress, Tengen-sama wants to see more of Seiryuu's success."

Suzaku's expression is one of pride. "Seiryuu is extraordinary, just like his mother. Tengen-sama's interest is a testament to that, you know.”

You smile, feeling a sense of pride and warmth. "He is, indeed. And with your guidance, he will continue to thrive. He will be most worthy as your heir.”

Suzaku reaches out, taking your hand in his. "We will guide him together, as we always have. You are not alone in this."

As the laughter of Seiryuu filled the room, escaping the hands of his nurse-maid. Your husband’s expression sombered. Suzaku was good at keeping a poker face more often than you could say. Much more when you played a game with him. But his own eyes clouded with concern, with worry. Seiryuu rushed to his father’s arms, giggling as he laid there. Your husband smiled at his son, though his eyes remained firm in its worry. He gently shifted Seiryuu in his arms, his attention turning towards you as he prepared to share the weighty news. He turned to Seiryuu’s nurse and nodded at her. 

Suzaku knelt down to his son's level, his voice gentle as he whispered, "You must go and wash up, little one." He leaned in to plant a soft kiss on the boy's snowy white hair, a tender smile curving his lips. "I'll come and read you a story after, hm?"

Seiryuu's face scrunched up in a pout, his blue eyes wide and pleading. "But I would like to have more time with you, father."

Suzaku's smile deepened, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "And you will," he promised, his fingers tenderly tracing through the boy's hair. "I just have some matters to finish first, hm? Now, kiss your mother goodbye."

The little boy hesitated, his gaze flickering between his parents. Finally, with a reluctant nod, he turned to you. "Goodbye, mother," he said, his voice small and earnest. He leaned in to give you a quick, affectionate kiss on the cheek, his warmth lingering.

You smiled, your heart swelling with love. "Goodbye, my little Seiryuu. Be good for your father, alright?"

Seiryuu nodded solemnly, his eyes glistening with the innocence and trust only a child could possess. He turned back to his father, who gave him a gentle nudge towards the door. As Seiryuu left the room, a soft murmur of footsteps echoed in the corridor, growing fainter with each step.

Suzaku straightened up, his expression shifting to one of seriousness. The tender moment with his son had been a brief respite from the weighty responsibilities that awaited him. He turned to you, his eyes searching yours for a moment of understanding.

"Actually, that's not why I was called to meet Tengen-sama," Suzaku began, his voice grave. "There has been a matter of great concern that Tengen–sama wished to discuss with me, one that concerns you."

You felt a chill run down your spine at the shift in Suzaku's tone. Something serious must have transpired for Tengen-sama to summon Suzaku in such urgency. Tengen–sama was kind, always making sure to treat you and your family well. But it was rare that Tengen–sama would say outright that they have a concern with you. 

Suzaku continued, his words measured and deliberate. "Tengen-sama informed me of a series of disturbing events—a massive murder of the Kamo clan's subsequent minor blood relatives, followed by similar atrocities within the Zenin clan. These incidents bear a striking resemblance to the slayings found in prior raids, where the victims were already deceased.”

“How bad were these incidents?”

His silence was more than enough for you.

But you wanted him to say something to you.

To confirm the truth, with his own words to you.

“Beyond humane.” Suzaku says, his eyes lowering. You think he has seen things. Too many things. “They should not be for anyone’s eyes, wife.”

Silence fell over the room as Suzaku's words sank in. The implications were grave, and the weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air. And these killings were not just of regular human people. They were sorcerers. To the jujutsu world, the lives of sorcerers were more valuable than anything else. You remained silent for a moment, processing the information. He does not speak either. As though letting you comprehend this moment. You settle your shaking hand away into your sleeves  before finally speaking up, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Is it him?" you asked, the words heavy with dread.

Suzaku met your gaze, his expression grim. He nodded solemnly. "It's him."

The realization sent a shiver down your spine. The perpetrator behind these brutal acts was no ordinary threat; it was someone with a deep-seated vendetta, someone capable of unspeakable atrocities. The safety and stability of your clan were now at stake, and the responsibility to protect your family weighed heavily on your shoulders.

Ryomen Sukuna has returned to the world.

But in what form, in what truth — you wondered.

What could have changed in these seven years?

YOU NEVER THOUGHT THIS COULD HAPPEN. The battle for Hida unfolded like a dark symphony, its crescendo building with each clash of swords and burst of magic. From the moment the first echo of cursed energy was thrown, it truly set loose to the final breaths of combatants in thunderous echoes, crescendo of souls burning through the worst of humanity. It was too much for you. You could feel the air crackled with tension, thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and burning earth.

As the chaos of battle raged around you, you stood firm, your resolve unyielding despite the recent trials of childbirth. With the flames of determination burning fiercely in your eyes, you fought alongside Suzaku, each movement fueled by an inner strength that refused to be extinguished. 

Your blood mingled with the elemental forces at your command, conjuring white flames that danced and swirled around you, consuming your enemies with righteous fury. The air was thick with the sounds of war, the agonized cries of the wounded mingling with the clash of cursed energy, steel and the roar of flames. 

The torrent of flames upon the land, the inferno roaring with an intensity that seemed to mirror the ferocity of your convictions. The gods were happy to see it, you think. Your sacrifice in blood, burnt underneath it all, white echo of cursed energy blended into bleeding hell fire. The gods find more souls in the hell that you created. The heat licked at your skin, searing the very air around you, as the sorcerers who dared to stand against you found themselves consumed by the flames they had invoked.

Amidst the tumultuous chaos of battle, the air was thick with the acrid scent of burning flesh. It lingered like a haunting specter, a grim reminder of the brutality and devastation wrought by the clash of opposing forces. Each gust of wind carried with it the stench of charred skin and singed hair, assaulting the senses and leaving an indelible mark on the memory of those who dared to tread the battlefield. Despite the horrors that surrounded them, sorcerers and warriors pressed on, driven by their unwavering resolve and the desperate hope of victory amidst the carnage. 

Yet, you paid it no mind, your focus unwavering. This conflict had raged for far too long, and you were determined to see it through to its end. With gritted teeth and a steadfast gaze, you pressed forward, your determination unwavering. Though Suzaku had initially protested, he soon relented, acknowledging the indomitable fire burning within you that refused to be extinguished.

Beside you, Gojo Suzaku wielded his cursed whip with deadly precision, its dark tendrils lashing out like serpents, striking down any who dared to approach. Each crack of the whip echoed like thunder, a harbinger of doom for those foolish enough to stand in his path. His strong cursed energy pierces through over and over. 

Mikoto Masaomi, a stalwart sentinel at your side, moved with the grace and precision of a seasoned warrior. His blade danced with deadly elegance, cutting through the enemy ranks with a fluidity that belied the chaos of battle. He yells, pushing the resistance forces forward. There would be no more surrender. Not anymore.

The forces of darkness threw everything they had into the fray, their desperation palpable in every incantation and strike. You hissed, kicking a sorcerer hard as you tried hard to maintain the flames of inferno. Masaomi screams, killing the sorcerer for you. Blood stains his face tenderly. You nodded at him as you still your breathing. You and your allies must come and stand firm. unyielding bastion against the tide of tyranny that sought to engulf Hida in shadow. 

As the relentless battle unfolded, the ground beneath your feet transformed into a quagmire of blood and mud, each step fraught with the slippery remnants of fallen comrades and foes alike. Above, the once serene sky was now a tapestry of crimson hues, illuminated by the fiery infernos that ravaged the battlefield. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each passing moment marked by the cacophony of clashing steel, the thunderous roars of magic, and the anguished cries of combatants locked in a struggle for survival. With every swing of your weapon and surge of power, you propelled yourself further into the heart of the fray, inching ever closer to the inevitable climax of the conflict.

But through it all, you fought on, drawing strength from the courage and camaraderie of those who stood beside you. For in this moment, amidst the chaos and carnage of battle, you knew that victory was not merely a possibility—it was a certainty. And with every fiber of your being, you pressed forward, until at last, the forces of darkness were vanquished, and Hida stood free once more, bathed in the light of a new dawn. You waited seven years.

Amidst the chaos of battle, a figure emerged from the swirling maelstrom of combat, a harbinger of death and destruction. It was your grandfather, Fijiwara Ankoku, a formidable warrior whose mere presence sent tremors of fear through the ranks of the Gojo forces. With a single-minded determination, he cut through all who dared to stand in his path, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on you, his target. As the clash of swords reverberated around you, Ankoku's voice cut through the din, dripping with malice and contempt.

"Pathetic. You think you can stand against me, little child? You're nothing but a weakling clinging to false hope." Ankoku laughed maniacally.

You gritted your teeth, your determination fueling your resolve to prove him wrong. "I may not have your strength, grandfather, but I fight for something greater than myself. I fight for the future of the Ryomen, and I won't let you destroy it."

Ankoku's laughter echoed across the battlefield, a sound as cold and heartless as the blade he wielded. "The future? Ha! You're delusional, child. The only future you have is one of suffering and despair."

You blocked his vicious strike with all your might, the clash of steel ringing in your ears. "You're wrong, grandfather. We will never surrender to tyranny. And neither will I."

Ankoku's eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he pressed the attack, his movements swift and deadly. "Brave words, child. But words will not save you from the fate that awaits you at my hands."

As you fought tooth and nail against your grandfather, each strike and parry a testament to your unwavering determination, you knew that the battle was far from over. But with every fiber of your being, you refused to back down, for you knew that the fate of the future depended on your strength and resilience in the face of darkness.

Before he could reach you once more, however, a sudden and cataclysmic force swept through the battlefield, tearing through the ranks of the Fujiwara forces like a scythe through wheat. A shockwave rippled outward, engulfing Ankoku and almost all of the Fujiwara forces in its fiery embrace. The air crackled with searing heat, as though everything around you was being consumed by flames.

Screams echoed through the chaos, a chorus of agony that pierced the very soul. Masaomi, ever the steadfast protector, stood before you, his blade drawn and ready to defend. Suzaku, your husband, held you close, his arms a shield against the storm of violence that raged around you.

As the dust settled and the acrid scent of burning flesh hung heavy in the air, you dared to peek through the haze, your heart pounding in your chest. And there, amidst the devastation, stood a lone figure, bathed in the eerie glow of the battlefield. It was someone you knew all too well, someone whose very presence sent chills down your spine.

You hitched your breath, your eyes widening in recognition as you realized who had unleashed such devastation upon the battlefield. It was him—the one who wielded the power to rend reality itself, whose very existence threatened to tear apart the fabric of the world. And as you stood there, frozen in fear and awe, you knew that the true battle had only just begun. For now, faced with the wrath of a god, you could only hope to survive the coming storm.

Ryomen Sukuna had changed. His once familiar form now towered over you, his frame elongated and imposing. Two sets of red eyes gleamed beneath his own, casting an eerie glow in the darkness. And as if to accentuate his newfound power, two additional arms sprouted from his sides, a testament to the monstrous strength that now coursed through him.

You watched in horror as Sukuna strode forward, his footsteps leaving crimson ripples in the river of blood that flowed from his very being. The air crackled with an oppressive aura, heavy with the weight of his malevolence.

In a desperate bid to shield yourself from his gaze, you moved to stand in front of Suzaku, seeking refuge in his comforting presence. Tears streamed down your face, a silent testament to the fear and anguish that consumed you.

Suzaku met your gaze with a mixture of concern and determination, his crimson eyes blazing with a fierce resolve. Despite the danger that loomed before you, he remained steadfast at your side, a beacon of strength in the face of overwhelming darkness.

The two of you stood together, united in your defiance against the encroaching evil. And as Ryomen Sukuna drew nearer, his monstrous form casting a shadow over you both, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu—an eerie echo of the past, where fate had once torn you apart.

The demon bowed to his master.

Tears flowed from your eyes.

“I have returned to you, as promised.”

IT WAS QUITE SURPRISE. As Ryomen Sukuna reentered your life, a palpable tension hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once serene halls of your ancestral home. Despite the dissolution of your marriage, the ties of blood and kinship still bound you to him, making him an inseparable part of the Ryomen clan's legacy. His presence stirred a mix of emotions among the clan members, ranging from curiosity to apprehension. 

The grandeur of the clan, once illustrious and revered, now lay in ruins, its glory faded and its power diminished. Those who served the clan, once proud and loyal, now regarded Sukuna with wary eyes, their apprehension evident in their hesitant movements and whispered conversations. The air crackled with anticipation as the prodigal son returned, his every step echoing through the corridors like a harbinger of uncertainty.

Sitting across from each other in a modest chamber that had once been the heart of a thriving household, you and Sukuna attempted to catch up. The conversation was stilted, each word carefully chosen, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. The weight of your shared history hung heavily between you, a barrier neither of you seemed willing to breach just yet.

"You look well," Sukuna remarked, breaking the uneasy silence that had settled between you.

"Thank you," you replied, offering a polite nod. "And you, Sukuna? How have you been?"

Sukuna hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away before returning to meet yours. "Surviving." he answered cryptically. "Things have been... complicated."

"I understand, do not worry." you said softly, the understatement hanging in the air like a heavy fog. "It hasn't been easy for any of us."

A tense silence fell between you once more, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the household bustling outside. Each of you grappling with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions, unsure of how to bridge the chasm that had grown between you over the years.

Sukuna's eyes, once filled with a ferocious intensity, now held a glimmer of something softer, almost vulnerable. He looked around the room, taking in the familiar yet changed surroundings, before his gaze settled on you. You, too, found it difficult to find the right words, memories of past conflicts and shared dreams flickering like shadows in the back of your mind.

For a moment, there was silence. You looked at Sukuna, your expression softening. "Thank you for returning, for coming back to me." you said, your voice sincere and filled with gratitude.

Sukuna met your gaze, his own expression serious. The usual bravado and arrogance were absent, replaced by a rare honesty. "I will always come back to you, you know that." he replied, his tone firm and resolute. "No matter what."

The declaration hung in the air, a promise that transcended the broken bonds of marriage, reaffirming the deeper connection that bound you both. Despite the awkwardness and the unspoken pain, there was a sense of comfort in knowing that, regardless of the circumstances, you would always be family. You will always know he was someone you loved.

You took a deep breath and led Sukuna into the main hall, where your children were waiting. Seiryuu, your eldest, stood with a confident stance, his eyes—a rare and powerful six-eyes—glinting with curiosity. You had told him stories about his lineage, but meeting Sukuna in person was a different experience altogether.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on Seiryuu, a flicker of recognition passing over his features. “I can tell the boy already has power in him.” he remarked, his voice carrying a note of approval.

You nodded in agreement. “Yes, he does. He is quite an intelligent boy.”

Seiryuu looked up at Sukuna with wide blue eyes, filled with a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Who are you?” he asked, his tone innocent yet direct. Those eyes made Sukuna uncomfortable. “You’re tall. And your arms, and your eyes! You have four!”

You purse your lips. “Seiryuu.”

“It’s alright.” Sukuna tells you softly as he turns to the boy. “You’re quite curious aren’t you?”

Seiryuu grins at him. “I do! Father thinks so too.”

For a moment, Sukuna hesitated at the mention of Suzaku. He could feel his usual confidence giving way to an uncharacteristic uncertainty. Then he spoke, his voice gentle. “I am your uncle.”

Seiryuu’s face lit up with a bright smile. “I’ve never had an uncle before! Father never had other siblings! Are you my mother’s brother?”

“No, I am her cousin.” He responds.

“So you were great uncle Hisamu’s son?”

“Yes I was, boy.” A hint of sadness pierces at his reply.

Seiryuu's curiosity seemed to know no bounds as he bombarded Sukuna with questions about their family history, drawing out tales of their ancestors and the legacy they carried. Sukuna, despite his initial hesitation, found himself opening up, sharing stories of their lineage that had long been buried beneath layers of time and secrecy.

As the conversation flowed, Sukuna couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia creeping in. It had been so long since he had connected with someone from his past, someone who understood the weight of their shared heritage. Seiryuu's youthful enthusiasm was infectious, breathing life into memories Sukuna had long believed to be forgotten.

You smiled at their interaction, feeling a sense of warmth and hope. Turning to the lady servant who held your baby daughter, you gently took the child into your arms. As you cradled your daughter in your arms, a rush of tenderness enveloped you. Her tiny fingers grasped at the fabric of your dress, her innocent gaze fixed upon your face with unwavering trust. In her presence, the weight of the world seemed to lift, replaced by a profound sense of peace and joy.

“Is there another one to meet?” Sukuna turns as Seiryuu plays with one of his arms. You smiled at him as you nodded.

 "She would like her uncle.” you said, walking closer to Sukuna with babe in hand. “This is my little one. Gojo Masako.”

Sukuna's gaze lingered on Masako, a tenderness softening his usually sharp features. "She takes after you, night flower." he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of wistful nostalgia. The endearment, once a whispered promise of affection, now echoed through the chamber, stirring memories long buried beneath the weight of time. “She’s truly beautiful.”

A pang of longing pierced your heart at his words, a bittersweet reminder of a love that had once blossomed between you. In that fleeting moment, the shadows of the past danced with the light of the present, weaving a tapestry of emotions that bound you and Sukuna together, forever intertwined in the threads of destiny.

"I know." you replied softly, your smile tinged with sadness as you cradled Masako against your chest. You look at her tenderly. “My adorable little one.”

“But mother, I am your adorable little one!” Seiryuu pouted in Sukuna’s arms. “Aren’t I?”

“Hm, you always will be.” You smiled at him. “But your sister is still a baby, hm? Give her a chance. A good adorable elder brother should love his adorable little sister.”

He pouts, nodding at you slowly. “Alright.”

The moment was poignant, a rare glimpse of peace amidst the turmoil that had defined your lives. Despite the complicated history and the lingering tension, this simple family introduction felt like a small step toward healing. Sukuna’s presence, while still tinged with the shadows of the past, also brought a sense of solidarity and a reminder of the bonds that could never truly be broken.

Sukuna's eyes softened as he looked at your children, a rare vulnerability crossing his usually stoic features. "They could have been ours, wouldn’t they?” he lamented, his voice tinged with a sadness that mirrored the longing in his eyes.

You smiled at him sadly, a melancholic understanding passing between you. "They would have had the happiest life together," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging heavy in the air. Sukuna broke the silence first, his tone measured. "I'm happy you've found a life," he said, though his words lacked conviction.

You gave him a knowing look. "Be better at lying," you said softly.

He didn’t respond, the silence stretching between you once more, heavy and unresolved. After a moment, you decided to break it. "Where have you been all this time, Sukuna?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Does it involve massacre?"

Sukuna's lips curved into a familiar, unsettling smile. "I regret nothing." he said, his voice carrying a dark, unapologetic undertone.

You sighed, a mixture of resignation and sadness filling your heart. Despite the distance and the divergent paths your lives had taken, Sukuna was still a part of your world, a ghost from your past who refused to fade away.

The complexity of your relationship, filled with both love and regret, was a testament to the depth of the bond you once shared. In that moment, surrounded by the reminders of what could have been and the reality of what was, you found a fragile, tenuous connection that, while fraught with pain, was still unbreakable.

In the quiet aftermath of Seiryuu's departure, a palpable tension lingered between you and Sukuna, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that defined your shared history. As Seiryuu reluctantly departed for his lessons, his parting tantrum echoing faintly in the air, Sukuna's gentle assurance carried a weight of its own—a promise of presence amidst the lingering uncertainty that surrounded your family.

"I'll be here and play with you when you finish, boy." Sukuna's words were imbued with sincerity, a genuine pledge to honor Seiryuu's desire for companionship despite the constraints of their circumstances.

Seiryuu's pout softened, replaced by a hesitant smile as he sought reassurance from his uncle. "Do you promise, uncle?"

Sukuna's smile widened, his eyes softening with affection as he met Seiryuu's gaze. "I do." he affirmed, his voice carrying the weight of a solemn vow.

Silence echoes through your chambers.

You looked at Sukuna, he looked back at you.

He smiles towards you, like he did years ago.

With a gentle nod, Sukuna rose from his seat, a sense of resolve in his demeanor. "I should take my leave." he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and acceptance. One of his palms rests on your face. You lean against his palm, taking a deep breath. "But know that I am always here, should you ever need me. Just call on me.”

You met his gaze, a flicker of gratitude shining in your eyes. "Thank you, my love." you whispered, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. "For returning to me.”

With a final glance at Masako cradled in your arms, Ryomen Sukuna turned to leave, his steps echoing softly against the chamber floor. As the door closed behind him, you were left with a sense of closure, a faint glimmer of hope stirring within your heart.

Within the walls of the manor, an uneasy atmosphere lingered, thick with tension and veiled hostility. Sukuna, an outsider in this realm of familial politics, bore the burden of suspicion with an air of stoic acceptance. Despite the sidelong glances and murmured asides that shadowed his presence, he maintained an outward facade of calm resolve.

To Sukuna, the Gojo clan held little significance compared to the ancient lineage of the Ryomen. In his eyes, they were newcomers, lacking the weight of history and tradition that defined his own heritage. He refused to yield to those he deemed beneath him, his pride and arrogance serving as an impenetrable shield against the subtle machinations of those who sought to undermine him.

As the insolent behavior of one of the Gojo servants grated against the already strained atmosphere, Sukuna felt the urge to unleash his wrath upon her. The impulse to tear her limb from limb coursed through his veins like a torrential storm, fueled by her audacious disrespect. In his mind, she was nothing more than an insignificant nuisance, unworthy of even a moment's consideration. Surely, no one would mourn her absence if she were to disappear.

However, Sukuna's gaze lingered upon her with a magnetic intensity, drawing Suzaku's attention like a moth to a flame. With a voice as sharp as a whip crack, he addressed the servant's misconduct with unwavering severity, his words laced with authority and reproach, cutting through the air like a blade.

In his reprimand, Suzaku's tone held an unwavering firmness, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a blade. "Sukuna-dono is still a relative of my lady wife," he stated sternly, his words carrying the weight of authority. "I expect you to treat him with the respect he deserves. Or else, I will not be lenient." 

There was no room for negotiation in his command, the seriousness of his tone leaving no doubt as to the consequences of disobedience. The servant’s eyes were wide, terrified as she bowed deeply, murmuring apologies before scurrying away. Once alone, Suzaku and Sukuna found themselves discussing the ongoing war and, inevitably, the topic turned to you.

The servant, visibly cowed by Suzaku's admonition, offered a hasty apology before retreating, leaving behind a palpable sense of discomfort in their wake. Sukuna's reaction, though subdued, betrayed a flicker of irritation in his steely gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the constant scrutiny and hostility he endured within the confines of the manor walls.

"It seems our time here has become increasingly difficult," Suzaku remarked, his voice tinged with regret. "But rest assured, Sukuna-dono, that you have my support. I will not allow any disrespect towards you, regardless of the circumstances."

He snickered. “Your servants are disobedient. If they were Ryomen servants, they would have been punished severely.”

“Too bad they are Gojo servants, Sukuna–dono.” Suzaku's lips twitch into a small wry smile.

Sukuna's lips curled into a smirk at Suzaku's response, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Indeed." he replied, his tone tinged with sardonic humor. "But even Gojo servants must learn to respect their superiors. I will ensure they understand that."

Suzaku inclined his head in agreement, his expression reflecting a mixture of approval and anticipation. "Your authority is unquestionable, Sukuna-dono, of course." he acknowledged, a subtle nod of respect accompanying his words. "But I have doubts they will heed your words. You are not a Gojo." 

“I do not want to be a Gojo.”

“That is quite clear to see, yes.”

Silence engulfs the two men.

Sukuna shifts his haori to the side.

Suzaku shrugged as he looked away.

"When did you two wed?" Sukuna asked, his tone casual but his red eyes sharp.

"Shortly after you left," Suzaku replied evenly as Sukuna watched him. "To protect her from being taken by the other clans. They would have sought to use her for their own gain. It was the only way.”

Sukuna's lips curled into a mocking smile. "And do you care for her, Suzaku? Or is it just the six-eyes that bind you to her? I’d like to have a good response.”

Suzaku's expression remained calm, but there was a steel in his eyes. "I have great fondness for her, as I always have. I may even love her."

"May even love her?" Sukuna scoffed, his voice dripping with derision."You should have a more definite answer to me, the man who loves your wife the most. Speaking about love with such uncertainty makes me think you only care that she gave you a six-eyes boy.”

Suzaku met Sukuna’s gaze steadily. "You may think what you want, but I will not debate my love for her. It is what it is, and nothing you say will change that."

The tension in the room seemed to thicken as Sukuna's eyes narrowed, a glint of something unreadable passing through them like a fleeting shadow. The air crackled with unspoken words, each man standing firm in the silent confrontation. Time seemed to slow as they locked gazes, a silent battle of wills unfolding in the space between them. Then, just as abruptly as it began, Sukuna broke the gaze, his expression shifting into a bitter smile tinged with resignation. The weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the complexities that bound them together despite their differences.

"Well," he said, his voice softer but still edged with sarcasm, "let's hope your love is enough to protect her from what's to come."

Suzaku nodded, his resolve unshaken. "I will protect her with everything I have. That is my vow." 

Sukuna remained silent, his thoughts veiled behind a mask of indifference, but beneath the surface, a begrudging admiration stirred within him. Despite the tension between them, he couldn't help but acknowledge Suzaku's unwavering determination and strength of character. It was a quality Sukuna had always respected, even amidst their differences and conflicts. Though he may never admit it aloud, a part of him grudgingly admired the steadfastness with which Suzaku stood by his convictions.

Ryomen Sukuna had made up his mind.

You would always be in good hands, he thinks.

You could live life without him now, he knew.

But he thinks he needs time, he needs a moment.

He needs to accept that he has lost you forever.

IT WASN’T AN EASY DECISION. Sukuna grappled with a profound sense of displacement, feeling like a relic of a bygone era in a world that had moved on without him. Despite his enduring love for you, it was tainted by the melancholy realization that he no longer belonged in the life you had forged. Part of him yearned to whisk you away, to selfishly claim you as his own and shield you from the complexities of the world. 

Yet, he harbored an innate understanding that such a course of action was untenable. Deep down, Sukuna recognized the inherent impossibility of uprooting you from the existence you had painstakingly crafted, even if it meant sacrificing his own desires for the sake of your happiness.

In the quiet embrace of the night, you and Sukuna clandestinely convened in the secluded sanctuary of the Gojo manor gardens, cloaked in the silvery luminescence of the moon. Its soft beams illuminated the delicate petals of blooming flowers, lending an otherworldly quality to the serene ambiance. The fragrance of blossoms perfumed the air, intermingling with the faint rustle of leaves stirred by the gentle breeze. Each element conspired to create a tranquil tableau, a poetic setting befitting the gravity of the emotions that hung palpably between you and Sukuna.

In the solemn intimacy of the moonlit garden, Sukuna's declaration hung heavily in the air, his words carrying the weight of both resignation and resolve. His voice, a subdued murmur amidst the tranquil night, echoed with the ache of longing and the burden of acceptance.

Your gaze, brimming with a tumult of emotions, sought solace in the contours of his face, a canvas etched with the scars of time and distance. Hurt and determination intermingled in the depths of your eyes, reflecting the depths of your heart's turmoil.

"Sukuna, you can't leave me again," you implored, your words a fervent plea that resonated with the echoes of past separation. "Not after we've endured the agony of being apart for so long."

His sigh, a weary exhale that seemed to carry the weight of the world, was accompanied by a downward cast of his eyes, a gesture of resignation that mirrored the heaviness in his soul. "You have a life here, a family," he murmured, his voice tinged with a melancholic realization. "I don't belong in this world anymore."

"You are my family," you countered, your voice a steadfast declaration that cut through the night's stillness. "We may no longer be lovers, but we could still be a family again. Together, we can navigate this world, find our place amidst the chaos and uncertainty."

Sukuna's expression hardened, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. "I can't consider Gojo my family. Not in my entire life. You are my only family. And I can't have you as such. I can't be with you. Not anymore.”

You stepped closer, desperation in your voice. You knew he was right. But you didn’t want him to be right. You didn’t want him to leave you. Not again. "We don't have to be lovers, Sukuna. Just stay. We can find a way to make this work. You are my only family left, we are the last of the Ryomen. Herons….”

“Herons cannot exist without the other.” He completes for you, your eyes widened. “But you cannot be a heron with a monstrosity. Not ever.”

“You are not a monster to me.” You insisted on him, your hand taking his massive palm. You pursed his lips. “You are Sukuna. My Sukuna.”

He shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I want to take you away, to be selfish and keep you all to myself. But you have responsibilities, people who depend on you."

"And you think I don't need you?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion. "I have always needed you, Sukuna. Your presence in my life matters more than you know."

Sukuna looked away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I love you," he whispered, the words heavy with regret. "But I don't belong here. Not in this world, not in this life you've built."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Please, don't go. We can figure this out together."

For a moment, Sukuna allowed himself to feel the warmth of your touch, the connection that had always been there between you. But he knew he couldn't stay. Not without causing more pain.

"I will always come back to you," he said softly, his voice breaking. "But for now, I have to leave."

“You do not have to leave—”

Sukuna's piercing red eyes burned with intensity as he spoke, revealing the depth of his distrust. "I know the Gojo elders are displeased with how much of their resources are being spent trying to retake Ryomen land. They see no benefit in it. I fear there will be a betrayal."

You listened, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. "What are you saying, Sukuna? You think that our most trusted friends—”

He stops her with a glare. “They are not friends.”

“They have helped us, Sukuna. In our hour of need!”

“I cannot trust them. Not now. Not ever.”

You felt your throat dry as you stared at him, as though frightened of him. “What do you want me to do?”

"I'm saying you need to come with me," he insisted, his voice urgent. "Leave this place before it's too late."

You shook your head, tears already welling in your eyes. "Sukuna….you knew this was….I can't leave, not without my children. And my children will not leave without their father."

Sukuna's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. "Was there ever a chance? When I came back, did you ever consider choosing me?"

You looked at him, your voice trembling. "I chose you, Sukuna. I always chose you."

"But never when it comes to your children, or this life you've built," he countered, his voice growing harsher. "You never chose me over them."

"Don't make me choose," you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. "Please, Sukuna, don't make me choose."

He looked at you, the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. "It's me or this life," he said, his voice breaking. "Choose. You must.”

You burst into tears, your heart shattering as you realized the impossible decision you were being forced to make. Sukuna watched, his face a mask of sorrow and resignation. He knew your choice before you even spoke it. You cannot expect to leave with a monster, and not expect to be one too. But you won’t be herons. Not anymore. Never again. You swallowed the bile down your throat.

As the weight of your sorrow enveloped you, your words emerged in hushed whispers, each syllable laden with the heavy burden of remorse. Tears welled in your eyes, tracing silent paths down your cheeks, as you struggled to articulate the depths of your regret.

Sukuna's gaze, once softened by shared memories and tender affection, now hardened into a steely resolve, the pain etched into the lines of his face transforming into something colder, more distant. His response, delivered with a quiet finality, cut through the air like a blade, severing the fragile threads that bound you together.

"Goodbye, night flower," he uttered softly, his voice a poignant echo of the intimacy you once shared. With those words, he turned away from you, each movement a silent proclamation of the irrevocable distance that now lay between you. "From now on, we are strangers."

In that fleeting moment, amidst the whispered apologies and the weight of unspoken regrets, the ties that had once bound your souls together unraveled, leaving behind only the echoes of what once was, and the poignant ache of what could have been.

You watched him leave, your heart breaking with every step he took. The night seemed to close in around you, the silence deafening in its finality. As you stood there, feeling the weight of your choice, you knew that a part of you had left with him.

The news of the main branch of the Fujiwara being eradicated struck the Gojo manor like a thunderclap, reverberating through the halls with an ominous intensity. Whispers of disbelief and fear echoed off the walls, mingling with the palpable tension that hung heavy in the air like a suffocating fog. 

In the wake of the sudden and brutal attack, the once bustling manor now stood cloaked in a veil of uncertainty and dread. Servants moved about with hurried steps, their expressions etched with worry as they exchanged anxious glances, grappling to comprehend the magnitude of the devastation that had befallen their esteemed counterparts.

Within the confines of the manor's walls, the atmosphere crackled with unease, each passing moment fraught with a sense of impending doom. As the hours stretched on, the collective sense of foreboding cast a shadow over the once tranquil abode, leaving its inhabitants on edge and trembling in the wake of an uncertain future.

You knew, deep down, that this was Sukuna's doing. A final act of defiance, a way to strike back at the world that had taken so much from him. As you held your children close, the weight of your choice pressed down on you, a constant reminder of the love and sacrifice that had defined your life.

Even with tears in your eyes, you still were still spring. Yet he would never be able to put it into words. Even if these words could be translated to life, they would never capture the true meaning and wouldn't be conveyed: I'll still love you in every cruel world. you sobbed. and he walked away, a child of evil, tearing you apart whole.

You sobbed for days alone in your chambers.

In the next years of your life, you were miserable.

The return of the Ryomen was a truly lonely life.

Herons would never end up lasting together forever.

You stand alone, yearning for the life that could never be.

facts about the chapter

writing this chapter, i looked at the family tree that i made and thought it was okay to reveal now but i realized that there's still some spoilers about it.

seiryuu's name is spelled as 聖琉 - 聖 means holy or sacred. 琉 means gemstone or precious stone. hiromi chose the name, the characters were chosen by suzaku. his name is sacred gemstone.

masako's name is spelled as 万咲子 - 万 means ten thousand. 咲 means blossom or flourish and 子 means child or small thing. hiromi chose the name and spelling. her name means a child of ten thousand blossoms.

hiromi at this point would be 30 or 31. sukuna is 27 or 28. seiryuu was born 2 years after the war (5 years old), masako was born a few months into year 7 of time skip (3 months old).

hiromi and suzaku are very amicable. but hiromi does not love suzaku in the way she loves sukuna. suzaku however is different.

sukuna occupies some part of hida and builds his own shrine. sukuna was very popular in hida according to some legends and ended up being some sort of protector.

hiromi stays in hida as well, but in ryomen manor - which is a bit further than where sukuna is at. wives often stayed in their own home rather than stay with their husbands. but hiromi often returns to the gojo manor.

as mentioned in the manga, tengen is very connected to the six-eyes. so it was fair to mention how interested tengen is with the six-eyes holder of the heian, seiryuu.

sukuna has fully developed malevolent shrine by this point. but he really had no reason to use it that much, as its rare to have someone as good as him in using jujutsu.

sukuna wiped out multiple bloodlines of the fujiwara, including koku's own bloodline but he hasn't really completely done so as they had managed to escape and mingle with their allies.

seiryuu starts to get headaches for his jujutsu a year after this, because his powers manifested fully. he also has the limitless, which made it worse. he starts having to cover his eyes with special bandages his mother blessed for him.

gojo satoru likes seiryuu as an ancestor a lot, because he wrote a lot of his experiences with limitless and six-eyes - most which satoru understood. a lot of the materials satoru used in his childhood was seiryuu's diaries.

the next chapter is set at least ten or fifteen years in the future.

[halobirthdays]

Happy birthday to Shipmaster Rtas 'Vadum!

Today is his -463rd birthday!

Rtas was born on Sanghelios and raised in a keep by the sea. He spent much of his childhood exploring the shoreline and hunting the creatures within. He graduated with honors from a top war college, setting the course for his advancement.

By 2552, he held the rank of Special Operations Commander, specializing in discreet, unconventional warfare--often answering directly to a Hierarch. He served under then-Supreme Commander Thel 'Vadam(ee), who tasked him with investigating the agricultural support ship Infinite Succor, which sent the fleet a distress beacon. Once on board, 'Vadum(ee) discovered that the ship had been overtaken by the Flood, making him one of the first to encounter the outbreak from Installation 04. Recognizing the threat of the Flood spreading, he and his team fought their way to the bridge to initiate self-destruction protocols. Before he could escape, he was forced to fight his Flood-infected comrade, Bero 'Kusovai, who had been his best swordsman. During the engagement, the Flood form cut off 'Vadum's left mandibles with an energy sword, leaving him permanently maimed.

After the destruction of Installation 04, he and Thel 'Vadam were given a mission to find and kill Sesa 'Refumee, a Covenant defector who was labeled a heretic for his (correct) denial of the Great Journey. By this point, his once-superior Thel 'Vadam had been publicly shamed, stripped of his title, and was appointed as the Arbiter. Though Rtas lost respect for Thel, he still recognized him as a skilled warrior and valuable asset.

Rtas and Thel fought their way through the gas mine, killing the heretic leader and taking 343 Guilty Spark with them. When the Prophet of Regret arrived at Earth unprepared and fled to Installation 05, Rtas sent a large group of reinforcements to protect the Hierarch, before being unknowingly thwarted by the Prophet of Truth. When Truth used these events to justify the Changing of the Guard, he protested but accepted the decision.

However, following these events, he and Thel forged a mutual trust in their unified disagreement with the decision, and their experiences fighting together. When Thel was betrayed by Tartarus, Rtas was the first person he told, kicking off the Great Schism and forming the first Covenant separatist group.

While Thel fought his way to Installation 05's control room to prevent the firing of the Halo, 'Vadum engaged Jiralhanae forces in orbit, capturing the Kerel-pattern assault carrier Shadow of Intent, which would become the flagship of the newly-formed Fleet of Retribution. Rtas was instrumental in forming an alliance with the humans, quickly recognizing the importance of Flood containment above their previous hostilities. He ordered his fleet to glass Voi, a restrained measure meant to balance his serious interest in containment with the delicate alliance with the UNSC.

At the close of the war, Rtas and the fleet would follow Thel and the UNSC to the Ark, providing joint support to pave the way for Master Chief and Thel to stop Truth. When the ceasefire between the humans and Sangheili was formalized, he escorted Thel back to Sanghelios, but would not stay for long.

Though he grew weary of fighting, Rtas continued to serve as commander of the Shadow of Intent. After answering a distress signal from the colony Rahnelo, he learned that some San'Shyuum--who had largely gone into hiding after the end of the war--were still alive through Prelate Tem'Bhetek. He went on a mission with Tul 'Juran to stop 'Bhetek's misguided revenge efforts against the Sangheili, believing that the Swords of Sanghelios were responsible for the death of his family. Rtas convinced him of the truth, and 'Bhetek died trying to aid him. After this encounter, Rtas set aside his resentment of the San'Shyuum, recognizing that some deserved death, but some, like 'Bhetek, had also been deceived. Though he was offered leave by Thel, who was now a brother to him, Rtas declined, having learned that thousands of San'Shyuum yet survived, and was determined to locate those responsible for the lies of the Covenant. By present canon, he continues this campaign.

While serving the Covenant, Rtas was devout but not a zealot, willing to challenge orders from the San'Shyuum, including threatening to kill the Minister on the Infinite Succor for his singular interest in his own safety over Flood containment protocols, and his vocal disagreement with the Changing of the Guard. Though he is war-weary and embarrassed by his disfigurement, which makes it difficult for him to enunciate, he still prioritizes his responsibility to his species and loyalty to Thel over his own wishes. He is more tolerant than typical for his species and values pragmatism over tradition, willing to let female Sangheili and Unggoy in his ranks before either was deemed acceptable. In other words, he's special and amazing and you love him. And that's still lore so jot that down.

In canon (~2560), he is turning 73!

If it wasn't apparent, Rtas is this blog's favorite character and EVERYONE IS GOING TO CLAP RIGHT NOW.

[lanabenikosdoormat]

JED MASTERPOST

Fast on his feet with an even sharper mind, Jed worked as a cipher agent for the Galactic Empire. Under the alias Cipher Nine - he was a prodigal secret weapon for the Empire's goals. As time passed, so did the stakes. When Imperial Intelligence disbanded, Jed found himself pursuing more independent ventures, outsourcing his work to broader horizons. He garnered quite a lofty reputation.

Through his extraordinary acts, Jed rose through the ranks, becoming a leading figure in the war that later broke out between the two superpowers. He would eventually become known as the Outlander and later, The Alliance Commander and serves as my main OC, not just for SWTOR - but my artist career as a whole.

MOST OF THIS IS PULLED DIRECTLY FROM HIS TOYHOUSE, WHICH CAN BE FOUND BELOW AND IS MORE COMPREHESIVE

BIO BELOW THE CUT!

Overview:

Full Name: Jedidiah Solaris

Alias: Cipher Nine, Commander Solaris, The Outlander, "The Ginger" (belovingly by friends)

Age: 35 around Onslaught

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay, Biromantic

Mental Conditions: OCD, PTSD

Birthday: March 20th, 11 BTC

Birthplace: Sacorria,  Corellian Sector

Species/Race: Human - Augmented with cybernetics

Occupation: Alliance Commander

Status: Engaged (Theron Shan)

-

Design:

Height: 6'0

Weight: 168 lbs

Body Type: Athletic, inverted triangle

Eye Color: Medium Brown (right eye is a prosthetic and is red)

Cybernetics: Mostly internal but there are two peaking out from the side of his head, just above the top of his ears.

Features: High cheekbones, scar through right eyebrow, clean shaven, well groomed, handsome. Personal hygiene is a high priority.

Markings: Various scars, faint freckles in summer seasons, bruised knuckles

-

Relationships:

Family: Deceased. KIA on Sacorria during the skirmish.

Love Interests: Hunter ✞ (Enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits type situationship), Theron Shan (Fiancé)

Friends/Allies: Closest friend is Lana Beniko. Additionally close with various others including Vector Hyllus, Koth Vortena, Arcann Tiral and the Them Group (OC group consisting of four of my irl friends ocs and my own sith warrior as follows: Verity Dante, Exxus Gun, LIX, and Obi-Two)

-

Personality:

He is both practical and visionary as well as a staunch realist. He is imaginative and eloquent, able to problem solve and get himself and his team out of tight situations.

As a leader, he is disciplined and thorough, leaving no stone unturned. Jed is strongly independent and is opposed to authority that he doesn't respect.

-

Background (pre-imp agent campaign and expacs):

As a young child, Jedidiah came from a tiny community of modest agriculturalists. For the first seven years of his life, he lived fair off. However, war struck and their little slice of the galaxy was caught in the crossfire. Jed was struck by blaster fire, directly in his right side of his skull. The wound was lethal and desperately his mother took a final stand to carry him to the Imperial outpost stationed on the planet. Because of his late uncle's contributions to the Empire, Jed was able to be taken into Imperial custody on one condition: he was never to return home again.

For the next 12 or so years, Jed was stationed on Ziost and Dromound Kaas interchangeably as he completed his initiation and mandatory military training. His superiors noticed he had a natural affinity for sneaking around in the shadows, as well as persuasion and ruthlessness. As such, at the age of just 14, he was transferred to the Imperial Intelligence division where he would begin training as an agent of the Empire.

-

Other Information:

Likes:

Killing Time

Sharpshooting

Revenge

Physical Touch

Dislikes:

Sucking Up

Unwarranted violence

The Sith

Helplessness

Hobbies:

Dejarik

Target Practice

Reading

Binge watching holo-dramas

Gambling

Social Drinking

Habits: Finger flexing, Pacing

Trivia:

He is ambidextrous, and uses a variety of different weapons depending on the given scenario.

Jed is excellent with kids and animals, he gets very soft and sweet and knows just what to say to them, especially in times of distress.

His favorite color used to be navy, and he'd wear it a lot in his downtime. However, these days its the red color of Theron's jacket as seeing it always reminds Jed of him.

[unfair-water-plane]

I’m very new to talking about things online, but just wanted to share a headcanon.

After the events of ME:3, humanity has to start rebuilding. Arcturus is gone, very likely much of earth’s governance is gone or indoctrinated beyond the ability to lead. They are going to need new faces in high places, and whose is chock full of people who have shown their mettle? The Alliance. It’s natural that leaders will rise from military places, and that can be dangerous. It’s so easy to go martial law when everyone is…well, martial.

But you know who probably be okay with leaving the alliance? Who has the moral fiber to stand not just for earth but as a leader for the whole galaxy? Who has not just the trust of the Spectres but has earned their way among them, and who they know will not treat them like cannon fodder in the rebuilding of everything?

That’s right, introducing humanity’s new councilor:

Kaidan Alenko.

The way I see it (and your mileage may vary, I’m basing this on my own experience if not service), if I had busted my way all the way to N7, was an operational commander and had a frigate no one had the balls to take from me I would be in no hurry to just end that rise. I have a headcanon that N7 is hell in career growth since they don’t drop a bundle on training and then promote you out of the field, so Shepard’s probably primed for a life of spec ops service with Commander, or maybe Major eventually, as his high water mark.

Now add in the fact that your husband (because you know the minute Shepard managed to open even one eye Kaidan was welding a ring on that finger) is going to be humanity’s councilor. He’s going to need someone in his corner who is unquestioningly loyal, fiercely protective, and has once a month spa dates with the Shadow Broker.

But I think Kaidan is like be so good at that role. He’s a natural peace maker, has spent a lifetime developing control over himself and his action. The first time one of the other councilors starts to just pass down uncollaborative mandates Kaidan drags them all aside for six hours of methodical debate and a galactic sized MCPP. By the end of the first month he’s completely eliminated standing on the platforms and holding condescending debate in front of applicants. Round table discussions with home planets, involved parties and unbiased observers becomes the norm. There will never be another ‘cruel and unfortunate truth’ moment with Councilor Alenko demanding the mindset of respect through service.

(And in the background, completely uninvolved in the discussion but never too far away during the emotional debates, Reaper Killer and Galactic hero Commander Shepard alternates between staring at humanity’s councilor like he hung the stars and seeing how quickly he can intimidate an end of a meeting at the first sign of a migraine).

Anyway, that’s just my two cents. Wanted to get it out of my head.

[swtorpadawan]

Code Breakers

Author’s Notes: The following story serves as “Part Three” and the conclusion of my In the Shadow of the Hero Trilogy, a storyline that I began with Training Day and Incomplete and featuring my original character in Tyzen Pyne. As with those previous entries, it is part of my expanded Halcyon Legacy, and takes place on Odessen sometime between the Knights of the Fallen Empire and the Knights of the Eternal Throne expansions.

Tyzen Pyne hurried up the hill overlooking the Alliance base on Odessen, joining the many who had already made the trek.

Despite all the bustle and activity – and Tyzen’s lingering anxiety from running late to this gathering – it felt peaceful here.

The Force felt peaceful here.

Looking around, he was awed to see so many people having already assembled.

More than forty individuals were now gathered around the hilltop. Most of them were wearing brown robes of varying styles. Others wore the adaptable armor plating that had become popular during the various conflicts over the years. Others still wore more nondescript garb, clothing that - aside perhaps from the presence of a lightsaber clipped to their belts – would not give away their identities or allegiance.

Jedi. Tyzen marveled.

This was by far the most Jedi that he had seen in one place in years. Not since early in the Zakuulan Invasion, when he and other Padawans had been Knighted on Tython before being sent off to fight.

And to die.

Back before the Republic had given up any hope for victory against the Eternal Empire and before the Jedi Order had been shattered.

As had Tyzen.

And now he was here. On Odessen. Ready to take the fight back to the Zakuulans. Standing amongst the last group of Jedi in the galaxy who could make that claim.

Not for the first time that day, Tyzen thought of Liam Dentiri, his old Master, dead at the hands of some bounty hunter in the pay of Imperials on Tython years ago when the Sith Empire had attacked, prior to the Revanite Crisis.

What would he have thought of his former padawan now?

He was lucky to have learned about this gathering at all, given that his transport – actually a freighter piloted by a friendly smuggler – had only arrived on Odessen late last night, and he’d met only a handful of people in that time.

Fortunately for him, Sana-Rae, the Voss Mystic and leader of the Alliance’s Force Enclave, had kindly informed him of this meeting of all the Jedi who had joined the Alliance when he’d gone to meet her.   

Tyzen regarded the crowd, trying to see if he could recognize anyone in all the small clusters of Jedi congregating amongst themselves.

Although a diverse group by nature, one Jedi stood out to him immediately, her blue skin and red eyes giving her a distinct appearance.

He had never met Master Dazh Ranos, one of the exceedingly rare Chiss who had left their Ascendency to serve with the Jedi Order. But Tyzen had heard rumors about her back on Tython. Despite her achieving the rank of Master, it was said that the Chiss Jedi had never agreed with the Council’s policies and had eventually withdrawn to make her own place in the galaxy, journeying through the Outer Rim Territories and helping people wherever she could. Tyzen imagined that she had seen parts of the galaxy that had never seen a Jedi, especially at times when so many had been needed closer to the galaxy’s core.

He didn’t recognize the towering Ithorian Jedi standing at her side, but he’d already been told that his name was Choza Raabat. Serving as a Jedi Knight during the Cold War, Raabat had crashed on a distant planet in the Unknown Regions while leading a Republic patrol. Marooned for a decade, the Jedi had eventually returned to a galaxy turned upside down with the Order all but wiped out the Republic suffering through another defeat, this time at the hands of the ascendant Eternal Empire.  

Tyzen had heard that the Alliance Commander himself had personally recruited Choza to his cause while on a mission to destroy the Zakuulan Star Fortress above Alderaan some weeks ago. Since then, he – alongside Master Ranos – had taken up a de facto position of leadership among the Alliance Jedi.

That story hadn’t surprised him; Tyzen already had the impression that a great many people had joined the Alliance based on prior meetings with the famous Outlander.

Case in point was the next Jedi he recognized.

Mennaus was a Zabrak Jedi Knight just like Tyzen. The stoic man was only in his mid-thirties but he carried himself like a wizened Jedi Master with decades of experience, seeming to speak only when he had something to say, but doing so with an impressive gravity.

Tyzen had met Mennaus two years ago on Coruscant. Well beneath the surface, of course. Places like the Works were one of the few places left on the Republic capital where they could avoid detection from Zakuul and their dreaded Fortresses. Mennaus had impressed Tyzen with his bearing and resolve; the man seemed to have endured the difficult years in the Coruscanti underground surprisingly well. They had exchanged information, then spoken briefly about easier days back on Tython. Mennaus revealed that, years before on Tython, he had once been saved by a fellow Padawan during the Flesh Raider Uprising.

That same Padawan, nearly thirteen years later, now commanded the Alliance.     

As he recognized more individuals from the crowd, Tyzen looked around, trying to pick out the Alliance Commander. Sana-Rae had told him that it had been the Outlander himself who had called this meeting. Perhaps he was still making his way from the base.

Tyzen deeply regretted not being able to meet with the Commander since his arrival on Odessen the day before. There were things he wanted to say to him. And to ask him.

After all, he hadn’t seen Corellan Halcyon in seven years.   

Tyzen had only met Master Corellan twice before, but both encounters had left a profound impression on his life. He very much would have liked the chance to reintroduce himself to the man once known to the galaxy as the Hero of Tython.

He probably won’t even remember me. Tyzen reminded himself, regretfully.

To many Jedi of Tyzen’s generation, the last class of Jedi Knights to have come of age on Tython before ‘The Fall’, Corellan Halcyon, the venerated Hero of Tython, was the reason the words ‘I am a Jedi’ meant something.

Before Master Corellan had disappeared, presumed killed in action. Just before the Zakuulan Invasion had begun.

Tyzen hoped he had grown up somewhat since those earlier encounters with the famed Hero of Tython. Perhaps not that much taller; his body has stopped growing vertically around seventeen. He’d filled out a bit; his muscles developing and his shoulders growing wider and more confident. Still, overall his build had remained relatively lean and agile, as it had been when he’d been a Padawan.

But his eyes had seen more of the galaxy.

Perhaps too much.

True, Tyzen had not been present for The Fall when – despite a heroic effort and countless sacrifices – the Jedi and their Republic allies on Tython had broken. When Master Satele, the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, had gone missing, apparently on some unsanctioned personal mission. The only members of the Council still active, Masters Ulannium and Gnost-Dural, had evacuated the Temple and the fabled Jedi home world, taking with them all the Jedi they could save and leading them into exile.

Denielle had gone with them.   

Denielle.

He’d tried not to think about her over the years. He’d also tried not to think about her smile. Her laugh. Her kindness. Her touch.

Above all, he’d tried not to think about the sensation of her soft lips pressed against his.

It had all been a mistake. He’d told himself after they’d ended it. The Masters had always preached against such “connections”. 

But Tyzen couldn’t deny their all too brief relationship had left a mark upon his soul. He still felt her absence from his life keenly, even after all this time.

It had been more than five years since he had seen her.

Not since that night on Tatooine when she’d departed off-world with the other Jedi from their combat group, fully understanding that her next battle would be on Tython.

Where the Order would either make good on their escape or face annihilation.

Their parting – he knew other people would have called it a breakup – had been somber. There had been no harsh words; just a regret and acceptance that both of them now felt compelled to follow different paths.

Tyzen understood that Denielle felt that the Jedi on Tython – already preparing to evacuate – needed her aid the most. After all, the fate of the Jedi Order would be decided there.

But there had been people on Tatooine – and countless other worlds – who would need the Jedi’s help. Who needed Tyzen’s help.

And he told himself that Corellan Halcyon wouldn’t have abandoned all those people.

So they had kissed one final time, before Denielle, tears in her eyes, had turned her back to him and left.

Tyzen’s plan to keep fighting on Tatooine had been futile, of course. Within a month, Algrunar, the only other Jedi who had stayed behind, had been killed and what counted for the local government on Tatooine had capitulated. When he’d realized that the people of Tatooine had only suffered more for his presence, Tyzen had finally been forced to flee as well, a local farmer named Galen Besk providing him with a way off-world.

By then, Denielle and the other Jedi had left Tyzen and the rest of the galaxy behind.

He could only hope that she was alright.

Not much later, he’d received a short message from Master Bela Kiwiiks. The encrypted communique had been routed through a secure relay and into his private drop account, no doubt to avoid detection by the Eternal Empire. The Togrutan Jedi had served on the Council for as long as Tyzen could remember, and he’d once helped her evacuate younglings from the Temple during the same battle where Liam Dentiri had met his end.

Master Kiwiiks confirmed to him that most of the surviving Jedi had successfully escaped off Tython and into exile, but that the Force had called on a different path.

Tyzen found that he wasn’t surprised. Master Kiwiiks was still highly regarded for her wisdom and compassion, but she’d be the first to admit that her days as a warrior were long past. He did not fault her for her for making such a choice.

She and her unnamed companions – he suspected they were again younglings, representing the future of the Jedi – were safe for the moment, and she was now caring for those who most needed it.

Tyzen again found that he wasn’t surprised. Master Kiwiiks was a natural caregiver. The council had selected her to oversee the well-being of the Order’s younglings in the first place for a good reason.

She’d somehow known that Tyzen hadn’t been with the Jedi who’d fled Tython and told him that if he needed sanctuary from the Zakuulans, she could offer it.

The offer did not surprise him. She’d always shown him such compassion. That she’d take a risk, however small, to offer him a safe-haven actually seemed natural for her.

When he had declined her offer, Tyzen’s own choice had surprised him a bit.

Fighting the Zakuulans on his own? Without the support of the Jedi? For a Republic that had all but surrendered?

Tyzen had been terrified.

But he knew he couldn’t give up. He had to keep fighting for those who couldn’t flee or protect themselves. If not on Tatooine, then on a hundred other worlds.

Because he knew that the Hero of Tython wouldn’t have given up.

In the dark days that followed, Tyzen helped whomever he could, whenever he could, however he could, while finding food and shelter wherever he could, all the while never staying in the same place for long.

The Eternal Empire’s pogrom against the Jedi had been vicious and even more devastating than what the Order of the Sith had faced. Clearly, Emperor Arcann had determined that if there was a threat of resistance against their rule, the Jedi would have been the most likely source for such a spark of hope for the galaxy.

Now on Odessen, as part of an Alliance led by a Jedi, Tyzen supposed that history had proven that assertion correct.

The so-called ‘Shadow Temple’ network, those Jedi who hadn’t withdrawn from the galaxy and who were now operating in an informal underground, had determined that the few Jedi still active and opposing Zakuul would live longer when they didn’t stay together for longer than was strictly necessary. Occasionally, he’d get word about another Jedi. Sometimes he would hear a bit of gossip that some other Jedi or another was still active and something of their activities.

More often, he’d hear that someone had been caught and killed.

Still, he’d worked with a few other Jedi off and on over the years. Unaw Aharo. Shigar Konshi. Attros Finn. A handful of others. He’d realized one day that most of these individuals were only a few years older than Tyzen himself.

There seemed to be so few of the old Masters still left.

It had been a hard life. And a lonely life.

But he had kept at it. Again, because he knew the Hero of Tython wouldn’t have given up.

Even his cousin, Karache, had eventually reached out to him. He hadn’t seen the Republic Special Forces soldier-turn-independent bounty hunter in more than a decade, but the older Zabrak had nevertheless offered him a place in his crew.

“The Jedi are long gone, Tyzen.” Karache Pyne had declared in his holo-message. “It’s everyone for themselves, out here. Why don’t you come with me? You’d be good in a fight. We can use you.”

By then, Tyzen desperately wanted to say yes. The years had taken a toll on him. Too many cold and hungry nights. Too many allies lost.

Too many friends lost.

Even worse, Tyzen had started to lose hope.

He turned his cousin down, again choosing to follow his own path. The path of the hero.

Because the Hero of Tython wouldn’t have given up.

And now, after nearly five years of fighting, running and hiding, Tyzen found himself here on Odessen. Ready to fight alongside the Hero of Tython.

As if on cue, Tyzen felt a sudden surge in the Force.

The light side of the Force had already felt strong atop this hill, in the presence of so many Jedi. It was peaceful and calming and soothed his wounded soul.

Now it was as if a blinding spotlight were being shown down on them all, even though it was late morning, and the sun was already high in the sky.

It was powerful and invigorating and inspirational.

Had Master Corellan Halcyon been concealing himself, somehow? Hiding behind some nearby bushes, or perhaps a tree a short distance away? Maybe he’d somehow hidden himself through the Force?

It didn’t matter. Tyzen decided. Regardless of where he’d been, he was suddenly there, standing at ease amidst the Jedi. From his confident stance and smile, he’d obviously been watching for some time now, choosing the moment to make his entrance.

Tyzen noted immediately that Corellan wasn’t wearing the distinctive brown Jedi robes or the adaptive body armor he had made famous during his years as the Hero of Tython. Instead he was clad in a new garment; this uniform was elaborate, predominantly white plating with black sleeves and trousers. The accoutrements had a distinctly… Zakuulan flavor, much to Tyzen’s surprise.

But even so, this was who Master Corellan Halcyon, the Hero of Tython, the Battlemaster of the Jedi Order and the champion of the known galaxy, had become.

And if anything, he had become an even greater hero. Just a few weeks ago, Master Corellan had defeated Emperor Arcann in orbit over Odessen, effectively toppling that tyrant from the Eternal Throne. Zakuul was now ruled by Arcann’s sister, Vaylin, who if anything was even more cruel and insane than her brother.

Everyone on Odessen seemed convinced that the Commander and his Alliance would now defeat Empress Vaylin and end the Eternal Empire that had plagued the galaxy for so many years.

Master Corellan himself looked to be in excellent health, despite the countless challenges he had faced. Tyzen had heard, of course, about the five years that he had spent imprisoned in carbonite, isolated from the rest of the galaxy. The reason why he’d been missing for so long. The reason why he’d missed the war. Why he hadn’t been there to save the Jedi, the Republic and the galaxy.

As difficult as the last few years had been for Tyzen, the younger Jedi couldn’t imagine losing so much time off his life.

Still, Corellan looked older. Not physically, exactly. But there was a look in his pale blue eyes that was somehow more… something.

“Thank you all for coming.” Corellan Halcyon formally began the gathering with a welcoming smile. It was the same expression Tyzen had once seen on countless Republic military recruitment posters during the war against the Sith Empire.

The ‘Hero of Tython’ smile.

Looking around, Tyzen could see that the other Jedi had been as startled by Corellan’s sudden appearance as he had been. After a moment of bustle, however, the gathered Jedi settled down to listen.

“I have three matters I wanted to speak with you all about today. Things you all have a right to hear directly from me. I wanted to do so in a place where we had relative privacy.”

His arms opened wide, as if taking in the scenery around them on the hilltop.

“I assure you all, I have seen to it that we may all speak freely here.”

The implication of his declaration was not lost on Tyzen. He recalled hearing that the Alliance’s Chief of Staff, Lana Beniko, was a Sith as well as having once served as the Empire’s Director of Sith Intelligence. Likewise, it was said that there were many other former spies in the Alliance from both the Republic and the Empire, as well as others who would have – until recently at least – had more than enough reason to ‘observe’ the Jedi.

Corellan Halcyon was staking his word that none of these elements would be a concern for them today.

“For the first matter, I’d like to formally thank all of you for making it to Odessen and joining the Alliance. Regardless of whether you were here on the day we laid ground on the base or if you’re only just now arriving, the fact that you were willing to endure such challenges and dangers just to reach this point is remarkable. I know full well that there are many we all would have wished to have with us today who did not make.”

He paused, a somber expression across his face.

Tyzen momentarily thought about the many Jedi had known who’d been killed over the years. He urgently suppressed the emotion as Corellan continued to speak.

“I also know the last several years must have been incredibly difficult for most of you. Both as Jedi and as people.”  

Corellan’s eyes drifted among the crowd, turning from Jedi to Jedi, catching several of them in his gaze before continuing on to the next. He finally caught Tyzen himself, and the young Zabrak felt a rush of excitement course through him.

“Likewise, that you would show such trust in me by coming here under such conditions honors me more than I can ever tell you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express my gratitude for that, and I hope to prove myself worthy of it.”

Many of the assembled Jedi gave murmurs of assent and affirmation while others waited patiently. Tyzen distinctly picked up the words “We’re with you, Master Corellan.” from one of the younger Jedi.

Not trusting himself to speak, Tyzen found himself simply nodding. He could not think of anyone better suited to lead this fight against Zakuul than the Hero of Tython. Corellan Halcyon was surely the leader who would lead the Jedi back to glory. He would shatter the Eternal Empire’s grip on power and would usher in a new era of peace to the galaxy.

Nevertheless, Tyzen kept his peace, eager to hear more. Through the eddies of the Force around him, he noted that the words had been well-received and appreciated by the Jedi of the Alliance.

But everyone seemed to understand that this was all prelude to something much more important.

Tyzen hoped he knew what that was. Whether he knew it or not, Corellan Halcyon was now leading the largest active contingent of Jedi in the known galaxy.

Why shouldn’t he declare himself Grandmaster of the Order? Tyzen asked himself, speculating.

The Alliance Commander, after a moment’s pause, pressed on.

“The second matter I wanted to share with you was that we have two new additions to the Alliance who are arriving within in a few days: Leeha Narezz and Jomar Chul. For those who are unfamiliar with them, I can personally attest that both are veteran Jedi Knights of great ability and experience. I have no doubt that their arrival will greatly benefit the Alliance.”

Tyzen recognized the names. He had never met either of those Jedi, but they had been active during the last war against the Sith Empire. If he recalled correctly, Leeha was a famed droid engineer while Jomar had been one of the finest reconnaissance scouts and infiltration experts in the Order before the Eternal Empire’s invasion. Both were just a few years older than Master Corellan. 

More recently, he’d heard a rumor that they had served off and on with the Shadow Temple since the invasion these last few years, as had Tyzen.

Corellan paused again, letting another murmur pass through the assembled group before continuing. At some point, this Jedi hero, considered by many the greatest warrior in the galaxy, had learned the art of public speaking. Clearly, he was carefully weighing the mood of his audience.

“With their consent, I am informing you all ahead of their arrival that the two of them have been living openly in a romantic relationship and they have been for several years.”

Tyzen blinked as the resurgence of urgent murmuring resumed, with several of the Jedi present beginning to call out questions for the Alliance Commander. Inevitably, Tyzen himself could only think of his relationship with Denielle with regret.

She had made the choice she’d had to make, and so had he.

That didn’t mean it hurt less.

But for Leeha and Jomar, acknowledging such public breakings from the Jedi code would usually result in their dismissal from the Order.   

Corellan calmly waited for the assembled Jedi to digest his words, then held up a forestalling hand. He had clearly expected such a reaction.

Slowly, the crowd became calm.

“For the record, speaking strictly as the Alliance Commander, I meant what I said before. I have no concerns whatsoever about Leeha or Jomar’s ability to reliably serve as members of the Alliance.” He paused. “However, I know that many of you would have concerns about Jedi openly embracing such a… connection. I assure you, Leeha and Jomar are not oblivious to the implications of their relationship for the rest of you.”

There was another pause as the gathered Jedi seemed to collectively nod in understanding.

“As you know, the council is currently absent, and there is no other legitimate authority to govern such matters. Therefore, I leave it to you to decide whether or not they should be considered Jedi. Both Leeha and Jomar have assured me that they will accept whatever judgement you reach without complaint or appeal.”

“For my own part, I would not presume to interfere in your decision. I ask only that you accept them as fellow members of the Alliance, and to treat them with the respect and courtesy that entails. Whether they are Jedi or not is a matter for the Jedi alone to decide.”

These words, perhaps more from their phrasing than their sentiment, caused a stirring of confusion and unease amongst the gathered Jedi. Plainly, this was not what anyone had anticipated.

Tyzen couldn’t help himself. Boldly he stepped forward, raising his hand before calling out.

“Master Corellan! Can’t you just claim the authority to decide the issue?”

Corellan smiled at the questioner, a warm look of recognition catching his eyes.

“Tyzen. It’s been a long time.”

The young Zabrak suddenly felt his face flush, put on the spot amongst the assembled Jedi.

“I’m sorry.” Tyzen looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling younger than his years. It felt like he was a padawan again. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

He overheard a handful of chuckles as a ripple of amusement passed through the gathering.

Corellan’s calming smile just widened.

“Of course I remember you, Tyzen. I never forget anyone I’ve called a friend.”

He looked around.

“For the record, that same sentiment applies for all of you. Whether I knew you before you came to Odessen or if I’ve only met you today, as of now, I regard each one of you as a friend. With the trust you’ve offered me, I could do no less.”

Corellan’s hand pressed against his own chest.

“Regardless of what is decided today or how the war goes, each of you has done more than enough to lay claim to my friendship just by being here.”

“But Tyzen’s question actually leads me directly to the third subject I wanted to speak to you about.”

Corellan composed himself somberly. He clearly had their full attention.

“I have long believed that people should be judged not by what they call themselves, but rather their actions; for those are a reflection of who they are.” He began.

“In my mind, this is a simple creed. One that has served me well over the years and that has allowed me to achieve many accomplishments.”

“Since I returned to the galaxy, I have made many difficult decisions, and those have led me to this point. I do not regret most of these, but I have given many hours of reflection to my choices. And I’ve come to acknowledge the implications of those choices, both for myself and for my role as a Jedi.”

Tyzen felt a growing sense of anxiety in his belly.

“To that point, concerning own my path as the Commander of the Alliance, there are things that I realize that I must do.” Corellan glanced downward for a moment, then turned back up. “Things that, in good conscience, I’ve realized that I couldn’t perform as a Jedi.”

A faint breeze swept through the gathering.

“For this reason, and before all of you as witnesses, I formally resign as a member of the Jedi Order.”

If Corellan’s earlier statements had drawn a murmur of a response, this one built up a firestorm. Almost everyone started speaking all at once.

The Alliance Commander patiently waited out the storm. Whatever he called himself, however he saw himself, he was more than capable of facing such adversity with a calmness that would have shamed any Jedi Master.

After about a minute, Corellan again raised a forestalling hand, deftly cutting off further questions.

“I understand your concerns. Let me assure you that I have every hope that the Order will reform itself in time. Indeed, I expect that it will. Whatever mistakes may have been made over its history it remains my belief that the Jedi have – on balance – been a force for good. For order and justice, yes, but also for peace.”

That seemed to calm the emotions of the assembled Jedi. Still, they listened on tensely.

“However, it is clear to me that I am not the one to lead such a reformation, even if I possessed the wisdom to perform such a feat. The Alliance, the galaxy and perhaps the Force itself… well, as I have said, they require me to be someone else. Someone I’m already well on my way to becoming.”

“I can promise you all that I will do everything in my power not to pressure any of you into doing anything to compromise your own values.” Corellan paused. “It is the same promise I make to everyone who will join us. But I’ve seen far too many leaders – including more than one Jedi – attempt to force their own beliefs on those who followed them. In my experience, that’s led to hypocrisy at best, disaster at worst.”

Corellan’s hands spread wide again, emphasizing the gathering.

“I will not force my beliefs on anyone else, least of all any of you.” He concluded. “I will ask that people follow me, and the Alliance will have a set a procedures and protocols, but that will be as far as it goes. While I lead it, this Alliance will reflect my values, not be a reflection of any dogma I may follow.”

Master Dazh Ranos stepped forward.

“Master Corellan… Commander… forgive me, but I must ask. Is it possible that… someone else is influencing this decision?”

Tyzen blinked in alarm. He had heard the rumor that some remnant of the Sith Emperor – that evil called Valkorion by the Zakuulans – now resided within the consciousness of his greatest enemy in Corellan Halcyon.

He’d rejected the rumor at the time he’d heard it out of hand, but now he wondered if there wasn’t some truth in it.

Rather than rebuking the suggestion out of hand, Corellan simply smiled patiently.

“I understand your question, Master Ranos. In point of fact, yes. It is certainly possible that that is the case.” He paused. “But no. I assure you that I have meditated on this matter for some time, and I can confidently tell you that this is my choice, alone.”

A green-skinned Twi’lek Jedi Knight named Shiri’ah stepped forward, drawing the commander’s attention.

“Then… you don’t think you’re becoming a Sith?” she asked.

“No.” Corellan shook his head sharply, letting out a slight chuckle. “I can claim more experience in dealing with the Sith than nearly any Jedi living and I can confidently tell you that my own path does not involve embracing the dark side.”

Tyzen remembered watching the Commander fight those Imperial Commandoes on Tython years before, when they had been about to slaughter Tyzen and a room full of young Padawans. The Hero of Tython had fought with an intensity that might have shamed any Sith.

But… it hadn’t been passionate. In hindsight, it had felt almost detached. As if it had been someone else doing it all.

Somehow, Tyzen sensed that Corellan Halcyon might have spoken more but had thought better of it.

Corellan paused, looking around at any of the faces that still met his.

“As I imagine that some of you may have doubts to that, I would be willing to be examined by any or all of you to confirm it.”

A long moment of silence fell over the gathering as no one volunteered. The crowd of Jedi seemed mollified by his words. Tyzen remembered that surge in the Force when Corellan had first made his presence known; he could not reconcile that with the feeling he had experienced from any Dark-Sider – Sith or Zakuulan – he had encountered.

After a few seconds, the Alliance Commander seemed to accept their reaction as tacit assent.

“So to properly answer Tyzen’s question, this is why I cannot weigh in on the subject of Leeha Narezz and Jomar Chul remaining as part of the Order. As I have, in effect, broken with the Order and the Code, it would be a terrible conflict of interest for me to interfere.”

Choza Raabat steepled his fingers together.

“I must ask, Commander, what if one or more of our number breaks from the order as a branch breaks away from a tree?”

Corellan nodded gravely.

“I understand the concern of a potential schism within the Order, Choza. For the record, I sincerely hope it does not come to that. But if a Jedi serving in the Alliance chooses to leave the Order or is dismissed by whatever leadership structure you form amongst yourselves, then that is the business of the Jedi, and not myself or the Alliance leadership.”

“Likewise, if anyone here believes that remaining with the Alliance would compromise their own values, they are free to leave. I would not begrudge them their beliefs.”

He paused, letting the implications sink in.

“As I said before, the Alliance has its own rules that I ask all its members to follow. So long as an individual is willing to abide by those rules, they will have a place here, regardless of what the call themselves.”

Choza Raabat said nothing to this but bowed his head in acknowledgement after a moment.

So it went.

The Alliance Commander spent another thirty minutes patiently answering questions. Some were quite heated. Others were insightful. Regardless, Corellan answered all of them calmly. Gradually, the questions grew less philosophical and more technical. He had clearly been prepared for this as well.

Tyzen could not have imagined Satele Shan or one of the other Masters on Tython giving the ‘rank and file’ that amount of latitude to challenge them. Yet Corellan Halcyon had withstood it all at his own insistence, holding up stoically.

Finally, after seemingly everyone had had their fill, he adjourned the meeting.

“Thank you all again. I hope my answers have brought a sense of purpose, but barring that, I hope I have brought clarity. The purpose of the Alliance is to defeat the Eternal Empire and bring peace to the galaxy, and as far as I am concerned, it always will be.”  

“I hope you will choose to stay. More than that, though, I hope you will understand and respect my choices. If not today, then in time.”

He crossed his arm across his chest and bowed at the waist.

“Thank you.”

With that, the meeting ended.

As the Jedi began to make their way down the hill and back towards the base, Corellan remained behind, exchanging a few parting words with individuals, most of whom seemed surprisingly optimistic. Despite the difficulties ahead of the Jedi of the Alliance, not to mention the challenge of facing the Eternal Empire, Tyzen somehow didn’t think any of the Jedi would be leaving the Alliance.

The young Zabrak hoped that he would be joining them, soon.

Both in returning to the base and in embracing their apparent sense of optimism.

But first, there was something he had to do.

Finally, he and Corellan were the last two individuals on the hill.

Corellan turned to Tyzen and smiled.

“Somehow, I knew it would be you.”

Tyzen swallowed, approaching the former Jedi Master.

“I was just wondering if I should quit the Jedi, too.”

The older human blinked down at him in confusion.

“Why would you want to do that?”

Tyzen took a deep breath and then he told Corellan everything.

Everything he’d experienced since they’d last met on Tython. About Denielle. About receiving his Knighthood. About the war against Zakuul. About staying behind and continuing to fight in the shadows while most of the surviving Jedi went into exile. About the dark years that followed.

About his fear that the darkness of the war had changed something inside of him.

About fighting for so long and so hard that Tyzen had started to question whether he was still fit to call himself a Jedi.

Corellan merely listened patiently, letting Tyzen get it all off his chest.

“… so now I don’t know if I should leave the Jedi, too.” He concluded.

Having finished, the young Zabrak was surprised to realize that he’d only been talking for about five minutes.

He’d been certain it would have taken hours to relay all his troubles. That they could be summed up so briefly was startling.

Now finished, the young Jedi Knight looked up at the Alliance Commander, hoping for wisdom and guidance. Corellan Halcyon was quietly going over what the younger Zabrak had told him.

After all, he’d been so helpful to him before, back on Tython.

After a long moment, the former Jedi Master exhaled, then spoke.

“That was an awful lot, Tyzen.” Corellan admitted. “I don’t blame you for having doubts, and I doubt anyone else could either.”

He paused, carefully regarding his younger companion.

“You do understand that I can’t tell you what you should do?” Corellan finally said.

Tyzen felt his shoulders drop in disappointment.

“Are you sure? I was hoping you could tell me what I should do next.”

Corellan chuckled, then padded his shoulder affectionately.

“For me, it was different. I had to break from the Jedi. If I hadn’t… well, I’ve seen what happened to Jedi who didn’t know the difference between following the Jedi path and following their own.”

“I couldn’t let that happen with myself.”

The Commander looked up at the sky.

“If I hadn’t made this choice, I think that the conflict within me, the same conflict that lies within all of us… it would have consumed me. Like it did Revan.”

Tyzen blinked, startled at this revelation. He’d heard stories about Yavin from before the invasion. He couldn’t imagine what that had been like for Corellan, and he certainly didn’t want to ask.

“You think you would have fallen to the dark side?”

Corellan tilted his head in assent, giving a sort of half-nod.

“Or worse.”

He then reached out, grasping the Zabrak’s shoulder again and turning him away from the base. Both the uncertain young Jedi and the older Alliance Commander looked out at the horizon.

“Tyzen, during the war against the Sith, I saw so many Jedi doing terrible things in the name of victory, or of the Order, or of the Republic, or in the name of the Force, itself. All while still claiming to be acting as Jedi.”

He stopped and exhaled, his arm dropping back to his side.

“I can’t do that. I had to break free of it, even knowing how badly that’s gone for so many other Jedi. I need to succeed where they failed, and trust that the people around me will help me stay the course.”

Corellan turned towards him again and regarded Tyzen somberly.

“Truly, I do not expect anyone to follow me down such a path. And I certainly have no intention of asking anyone. As a concept, the ‘Grey Jedi’ seem perfectly reasonable. Even admirable.”

He exhaled.

“As a collective group with a collective belief system? Every iteration has ended in disaster. That’s why so many incarnations of it fail, either due to internal or external pressures.”

“So with the Force as my witness, I assure you I have no intention of starting a schism. The Alliance is already too close to being a cult of personality without me making it any worse.”

Tyzen made a face at that observation uncertainly as Corellan just chuckled at his puzzlement.

“Anyway, you’re too young for these kinds of philosophical conversations.”

The Zabrak bristled.

“I’m almost the same age you were when you beat the Emperor’s Voice on Dromund Kaas.”

Corellan stopped himself and looked downward at the grass, letting out a slow exhale, plainly having realized the truth in Tyzen’s statement.

“Well. So that’s what growing old feels like.” The Alliance Commander smiled wryly to himself.

Tyzen felt his face flush, embarrassed to think he might have offended Corellan.

“I’m sorry. I meant – “

“I know what you meant.” He reached out again and patted Tyzen’s shoulder, calmly. “That’s just something everyone has to get used to, I think.”

He turned back to his young companion.

“So. After all that metaphysical discussion, what is it you’re really asking me?” Corellan pressed. “You can say ‘I am a Jedi’ or ‘I am not a Jedi’, and I won’t try to stop you either way.”

The Zabrak bit his lip.

“I guess I’m asking you… who am I?” Tyzen asked.

Corellan smiled at that.

“Who do you want to be?”

The young Zabrak paused. He knew the answer, he’d known the answer for years, but it was still hard to say. Swallowing, he forced the words out.

“I wanted to be you.” Tyzen finally murmured. “For the longest time, more than anything else in the galaxy. I wanted to be just like you.”

Corellan’s eyes widened, truly startled for the first time that Tyzen could remember.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize that you felt that way back then. If I had, I would have said…” he exhaled then spread his arms apart, as if lost. “Something.”

Tyzen bit his tongue and looked away, not trusting himself to speak. He felt himself start to breathe heavily.

Corellan placed a hand on his shoulder.

“For whatever its worth, I looked up to my heroes, too, Tyzen.” he offered. “Sagottoh Panaka. Nowan Ko Detizu. Orgus Din. Satele Shan.” He paused. “Revan.”

A comfortable silence settled in between them. In the distance, some native bird let out a caw, possibly to signal to its fellows that it had found some fresh kill to scavenge and feed upon.  

“Each of my mentors, my heroes… well, they all disappointed me in different ways.” Corellan gazed down at the ground. “It wasn’t their fault, mind you. It’s just that the reality of who they were didn’t quite match my impressions of who they were.”

He shrugged.

“Impressions that might have been fantasies.”

“But I don’t blame them for any of that now. Not anymore, anyway. Our mentors, our heroes, are people, with merits and flaws the same as anyone else.”

“But what’s important was that in the end, I learned from each of them. And with time, I learned to become myself.”

“Now it’s easier in that regard. I’ve learned to respect and appreciate them in a new light. Not as my role-models, but as actual people.”

He stretched his neck. It was a strangely normal thing to do coming from a man who Tyzen regarded as anything but normal.

“Like them, I’m a person. A simple man trying to make his way in the universe. That is all.”

He turned back to Tyzen.

“Did you really think that I would think any less of you? For either going with the others who fled Tython, or finding sanctuary someplace else?”

“I… no.” Tyzen swallowed. He was ashamed. Ashamed for feeling weak. Ashamed for feeling uncertain. “I guess not.”

He looked Corellan Halcyon in the eyes.

“I guess… I was worried that I would think less of myself.”  

Corellan nodded in understanding.

“That’s the first lesson. Now here’s the second: After everything you’ve been through, now that you have a chance to breath, have you been true to yourself, Tyzen?” Corellan asked the young Zabrak. “Have you been true to who you want to be?”

Tyzen opened his mouth to answer, then stopped himself. His old Jedi training started to kick in as he chewed over the Alliance Commander’s query, looking within himself for a sense of peace.

He thought about Denielle, and their painful parting.

He thought about every time he’d had to fight his way out of a dangerous situation in the last six years.

He thought about every night he’d spent on a cold street or cave, with a hunger in his belly.

Finally, he thought about the choice of coming to Odessen to join the Alliance.

“I think I have… in the end.” Tyzen finally answered. “It took me awhile, though.”

“Good.” Corellan smiled. “In the long run, you need to be the kind of person you’d respect, even while recognizing your mistakes. Recognizing the good and the bad.”

He looked down towards the base.

“They come from all over.” He mused. “Republic. Empire. Jedi. Sith. Voss. Independents of every stripe. Even Knights of Zakuul, believe it or not. So many differences! And yet… they keep coming.”

Corellan Halcyon smiled faintly. It was a simple gesture that, to Tyzen, radiated hope.

“With the Alliance, I hope to build a place where everyone who joins us can contribute while still being true to themselves.”

He turned his smile onto Tyzen, a look of hope in his pale blue eyes.

“I look forward to meeting the person you are becoming.”

With that, he turned and began his walk back down to the base.

Tyzen watched him depart in silence.

Tyzen could remember that time – in what felt like a lifetime ago – when he had all but worshipped Corellan Halcyon. When he had wanted nothing more than to be the Hero of Tython.

Now, a little older and a little wiser, he didn’t look at this man that way anymore.

But he respected him, perhaps now more than ever. He realized that here was a man who had made his choices and then accepted the consequences.

Tyzen no longer wanted Corellan’s life.

But he could still continue to learn from that life.

He had learned much from being in the shadow of the Hero of Tython.

As he started walking down the hill, he realized that it was now time for Tyzen Pyne to learn how to be himself.

END

Author’s Notes: Parts of this story probably fall under the ‘Unreliable Narrator’ trope. Tyzen isn’t dishonest, but he doesn’t necessarily see everything clearly. I’ll let you judge what parts those might be.

Tyzen, Corellan, Denielle, Karache, Sagottoh, Nowan Ko, Shiri’ah and Ulannium Kaarz are all original characters of mine. All other characters named in this story are actual NPCs from the game, some of whom are rather obscure. (As is my way.) Feel free to ask me about them or look them up yourself on Wookiepedia, if you like. Shiri’ah was previously introduced in my Adas Legacy, but she now gets a supporting role in my Halcyon Legacy.

There are a number of references in the game story to a Jedi purge of sorts carried out by the Eternal Empire during the five-year jump in Knights of the Fallen Empire. It’s a fascinating subject that hasn’t been fully explored.

Any similarities between Tyzen and a certain red-headed Jedi purge survivor from a recent video game franchise are… purely unintentional.  

The Corellan Halcyon that appears here is one who saw Jaric Kaedan, Nomen Karr and Jun Seros make terrible, tone-deaf decisions during the Second Great Galactic War.

For the record, spoilers here, Ranos and the other Alliance Jedi decide that it is not their place to expel Leeha and Jomar from the Order. By the time the Alliance makes contact with the Jedi on Ossus, no one thinks it’s worth the trouble.

Liam Dentiri, a quest-giver on Tython and a boss in the Assault on Tython Flashpoint, was killed in my canon by Xadya, my bounty hunter in the Halcyon Legacy. Since Xadya would also go on to join the Eternal Alliance, Tyzen may find himself challenged in ways he couldn’t have imagined.   

I’d like to incorporate Tyzen into some future stories, though maybe not as a featured character.

I watched a lot of history documentaries during the pandemic and a few of them involved religious schisms throughout history. I found them both fascinating and somewhat depressing. (Spoilers: When it comes to religion, there are no “good guys”. Just times when one group might be worse than another.) But it got me thinking about the “Grey Jedi” in Star Wars, who are incredibly popular in the fandom, but always seem to come up short.  

I still like the character of Bela Kiwiiks from the Jedi Knight story. I don’t know how many of you ever read the Star Wars: Dark Times comic series from Dark Horse, but her situation in my story is rather similar to Master K'Kruhk’s in that tale. It is well established that the Jedi don’t put all their eggs “in one basket” when it comes to their Padawans and younglings, as they have many enclaves all over the galaxy. Kiwiiks was returning a group of younglings from such an enclave to Tython when she was cutoff by the Eternal Fleet. Deciding that the younglings needed her more than the Ossus Jedi would, she took her charges into hiding, much as K’kruhk does during the time of the Galactic Empire.

Karache’s line to Tyzen is a reference Han’s line on Yavin to Luke in Episode IV. Naturally, Corellan later delivers a line to Tyzen that was directly pulled from Jango Fett in Episode II. I love my little Easter Eggs.

Corellan’s outfit during the events of this chapter is known as the “Ruthless Scion Armor Set” from the Cartel Market. He would later change it again, but this is what he wore for most of Knights of the Fallen Empire and Knights of the Eternal Throne expansions.

I was originally going to mention Ashara Zavros in this piece, but the tangent that summoned got out of hand.

Although I wasn’t reading the Expanded Universe novels at the time, Luke’s speech to the Jedi Order in Dark Nest III: The Swarm War always resonated with me. It’s important for one’s followers to know where their leader stands, and Corellan is attempting to do the same here. (Though obviously, Corellan takes a very different approach.)

Thank you for reading, and may the Force be with you.

Tagging!

@distressed-gizka @rikki-roses @eorzeashan @grandninjamasterren @space-unicorn-dot @mysterious-cuchulainn-x @iacyper9 @sullustangin @stars-ephemeral @taina-eny @brainmonkeyscartwheeling-blog @nebulis-ceartais @raven-of-domain-kwaadthe-raven-of-highever @nekorinnie @fandomfangirl23 @abbee-normal

[lavandula-ipsum]

Those Wistful Asphodels

Asphodels ch. 1/2

Tags: dark!Luke x Fem!Reader, force sensitive reader, reader is injured, death of secondary characters mentioned, porn with plot, no really most of this is plot, angst, smut, cuffs, non penetrative sex, handjobs, edging, light degradation

Wordcount: 7.4k

Summary: Since Luke Skywalker fell to the dark side, the Rebellion has been facing a fast annihilation. In these dire times when lights go out in the galaxy one after another, a rebel captain with the mission of rescuing the survivors of a fallen base finds herself injured and alone. And, on top of that, the worst of her temptations appears out of the blue.

Asphodels is a sequel to Pomegranate, a short smut series that has kinda ended up growing a plot. I do think you can enjoy this part without the previous one, since you can infer enough of their dynamic from context. Feel free to check the previous chapters if you feel like it!

WARNING (or the opposite to it?) Even though this is a dark Luke fic, all that happens during the more intimate scenes is completely consensual. Still, Reader isn't in a good place mentally, hence the angst tag. I wanted to make it clear, there's nothing dubious here in that regard.

Enjoy!

The Empire has a new face, one that has brought unprecedented darkness to the galaxy. All kinds of stories have popped up around the new royal core of the regime. From the old throne of the Emperor now rules he who was his loyal shadow, his most deadly hand. And at his side stands a son. Their combined strength has turned the war into a fixed hunt, a pitiful game in which the Rebel Alliance can't but wriggle like a doomed scurrier in a trap.

Some, those who were labeled as hopeless pessimists, would say it all ended the very same day of the betrayal. After all, the Rebellion could stand to lose a commander, no matter how invaluable the feats achieved by Luke Skywalker were. But it was a blow nonetheless. Right after the news came out countless rebels fled their posts trying to save their lives, but it was for nothing. Nowadays even deflectors get mercilessly hunted down by the Empire. Like marked by a curse, every single person who ever belonged to the Rebellion, or even just sympathized with it, gets found. No tiny spark of resistance escapes, lest it ignite new fires of rebellion in the future. Even those who were hopeful at first seriously doubt that prospect a little more every day with each new of lost squadrons and assassinated leaders. 

General Organa remains as one of the last remnants of light in these dark days, even though she’s faded into obscurity. Her whereabouts are kept a secret, much to her own distaste. But it isn’t the time for her to come out at the front of some suicidal attack, it’s the time for caution. To hide and prepare. Fate has taken down yet another path she didn’t want for herself, but also one she’s starting to dread to be unfit for this time.

And meanwhile, (Y/N) wonders how long will it take for the idea that the Rebellion has disappeared to settle. The rebel captain isn’t one to express out loud how hopeless she’s become, not in front of her dwindling companions. But there is not denying it. Rogue squadron is no more. It lasted longer than the others even when it became the most sought after by unrelenting TIE squadrons. (Y/N) knows who leads that imperial offensive, it’s written in the precise counter attacks that always surprise the rebel pilots  in all of their maneuvers, every evasion. There is only one person who knows them that well, just one pilot with that kind of talent. (Y/N) gets sick just thinking of his hand on the trigger, the aim set on another friend. No matter what the rebels try, they’re doomed to fail. Recently she got the news that the last one of the once acclaimed X-wings was shot down. Kriff, not even Wedge made it. She can just cross her fingers and hope that the Millennium Falcon, the most wanted starship in the galaxy, will remain hidden for a little longer.

Even Han has given up all hope. The captain of the Falcon was never a man of faith, but (Y/N) trusts his resolve to help keep alive those few of them who still survive, scattered across the stars. It’s all she has left now, especially when she’s starting to suspect that she won’t be coming back from this mission.

It was her who insisted on making the effort to come here with the mission to establish contact with the rebel cell hiding in the base of Jolah after it went silent. It was her assignment and it has failed even more spectacularly than anyone could have expected. The ambush hit them as soon as they came out of hyperspace to a system crawling with squadrons of TIE fighters and imperial patrols. In the unexpected dogfight, (Y/N)’s starfighter got hit and her pitiful role in the operation suddenly evaporated as she was reduced to managing the crashing of her craft in the middle of the sadistic fireworks around her, fighting the controls to make an emergency landing on the surface of Jolah. Each vertiginous spin separates further away from her companions while they fall to the imperial cannons.

Her damaged X-wing crashes in the middle of lush woodlands, up in the mountains. She hurries to leave the cockpit, fearful because of the black smoke coming out of the engines that the craft might explode. A sharp pain paralyzes her as she reaches for the edge to prop herself up. Even though she can’t move her leg, suddenly heavy and uncooperative, she still tries to get down the ship, slipping when her limbs clumsily let go of her commands. Hitting the ground brings her all the pain she’s been unable to feel until now. This is when she finally sees a piece of a durasteel lever buried deep in her thigh. 

The stranded captain huffs, turning her gaze up to the barely visible battle going on just over the atmosphere. She’s far from a military genius, but she can see that it’s over for her squadron. Even calling it a battle is generous when they were trapped so quickly, like helpless flies.

But she can’t just sit here and contemplate the butchery from afar, there’s no time to despair in the middle of nowhere. Even in this thick forest the Empire will find her vessel soon, so she better put some distance between it and herself. So she just grabs the end of the lever lodged in her leg and pulls, white pain burning through all of her senses while biting on the edge of her glove to try to drown her screams a little. A shriek escapes her when the durasteel finally flies out of her flesh. Thick blood gushes out until she puts pressure on the wound, bandaging it as best as she can with the sleeve she just tore from her shirt. 

Walking will be difficult, but she can’t do much else other than start dragging her aching limbs through the mud and the pain. The feeling that she might faint soon only grows, blood drenching through her poor attempt at a bandage and dripping down her thigh. The beauty around, threads of light cutting through the trees lighting up a forest floor splattered with little white flowers, all seem to be mocking her. At least she finds a fallen branch she can use as a walking stick. However, the sounds of the search party, the buzzing of speeders echoing through the trees, keep her awake and moving. 

Daylight fades along with the signs of imps in the area. It seems she’s safe for now, but she still doesn’t dare to stop for the rest she so direly needs, since she can’t trust herself to not fall asleep. At least her present predicament is easy enough to understand. Imperials running after her life while she bleeds alone in the cold with nothing but a blaster to protect herself. Those are circumstances that make her forgotten rebel resolve bloom again. The dream might be dead but, this way, at least she gets to die a rebel.

(Y/N) keeps avoiding the distant speeders, wondering how long before she’s found. Her fingers have lost sensitivity due to the biting cold, which she takes advantage of to keep dragging herself forward until she’s alone with the faint echoes of birds and the occasional critter running to hide. And, for the first time in months, she lets her sore mind loosen down a little to graze the currents of the Force she’s been fearfully avoiding. 

At least I get to die a rebel.

She expected the sensation of opening her mind to be uncomfortable, even painful, but the Force takes her right back, as if she never closed herself off from it. Even if she’s forgotten herself, the Force hasn’t. 

Who knows, maybe it’s because of all the blood she’s lost, but she’s never felt closer to its embrace. Ah, it’s all almost over.  

Mixed in with the cool currents filling the dried river beds of her mind another flow enters. Her eyes fly open at the realization of what she inadvertently has done. A single tear falls down her cheek as she scrambles to rebuild the barriers that she so irresponsibly let down. In hiding her signature, her brain complains of being denied from the full expanse of Force once again. The trance she was falling in insists on lingering inside of her as she fights to wake up from it. She was ready to let herself fall in the arms of the Force at that time when she’d close her eyes for good to let herself go in peace.

But it is too late now. He has seen her.

There’s no denying his intoxicating presence, a warmth dueling the cold of the forest and looming death inside of her, getting closer by the second. But how? He isn’t supposed to be in the system. His presence pokes at hers, impatience domineering over any intention at gentleness. Where are you? echoes in her brain, like pliers forcing her mind open. 

The rebel huffs and whimpers when she hears the TIE fighter over her head, its buzzing fading as the darkness throbbing at the corners of her vision expands. Desperation alone is keeping her standing, but she has stopped running now. This is as far as she was able to go.

She doesn’t need to turn around to feel the man wrapped in a black cloak right behind her, or his rushed breath as he quickly approaches, or the bursting heart in his chest. 

At least I get to die a rebel, she repeats.

In spite of his speed, his steps barely make a sound on the mud, but each of them is a jab inside of (Y/N). A shiver runs down her back thinking how all the times she’s tried to prepare herself for this have been useless. She isn’t ready to face him again and, most of all, she hates that he finds her like this, unarmed and defenseless, on the verge of passing out.

For a second, her mind gives out and everything turns dark. Cold climbs into her as she collapses forward, only for her fall to be stopped mid air. Her walking stick drops with a soft splash on the puddle before her, and suddenly she can hear the clatter of rain. For how long has it been raining? While she scolds herself for letting the panic wash over the awareness of her surroundings, her attention focuses on the arm holding her by the waist, then to the silhouette towering over her. Another reason to be disappointed with herself. She’d expected to be terrified by this encounter but, instead, under the hood, she finds a sad gaze she can’t bring herself to hate. 

Her blood drips over the little white flowers growing on the ground, defiling them with dark spots.

The longer she stares into the icy blue more memories flood her good conscience. The first time she saw him in that hangar so long ago, when she mistook him for a mechanic, it was him who looked helpless and alone.

I’m sorry it took so long to tell you, he said the last time they spoke.

Ashamed, she tries waving her childish longings away, afraid to know if they are still shared, and fights to stand up on her own. But her leg screams in pain and buckles, her body betraying her resolve by letting out a pained moan. His arms support her through it all. 

“Are you handcuffing me before I bleed to death or shall we wait some more?” she hisses.

She holds a red hand in front of her face and curses under her breath, which prompts a flare of alarm in his aura as he examines her. Judging by her darkened, drenched clothes, it’s a miracle that she hasn’t lost consciousness yet.

“Who did this to you?” It must be the blood loss, but Luke’s presence didn’t feel fully real before hearing his voice. She has always been afraid of his anger because of the choice that came with each one of those scarlet flares, even if they’ve never been directed at her. But that stopped mattering long ago.

Little raindrops run down his dark hood, dripping over the edge. She fights the urge to fix his hair with her fingers. She offers a bitter answer instead. “What do you think? One of your friends, like the ones waiting behind those bushes.”

“I’m alone.”

“I don’t believe you,” she spits. Lately, being lied to feels more comfortable than the alternative when it comes to him. Luke seems saddened by the comment.

“You need to have that looked at. Where is your lightsaber?”

She isn’t willing to answer either of those questions. Instead, his grip tightens around her. Ah, he’s so warm. She yearns to fall asleep in his arms.

She’s so submerged in his signature that she doesn’t notice the movements around them until a branch cracks not far from them. (Y/N) takes advantage of the split second of distraction to reach for his lightsaber. This is it, the moment she's been dreading. She didn't want to do this, she really didn't. But her desires are meaningless now. If she's to fall defending her companions, she will. Luke gazes at her with a mix of surprise and betrayal, but stays still. From the bushes emerges a group of rebels armed with blasters and fiery eyes sunken in their dirty faces. But there’s something wrong. They’re little more than children.

(Y/N) has found the rebel survivors of Jolah at the worst time possible. The act of tearing herself away from Luke’s arms cost her every drop of will she has left, but she manages to strike what must be a very unconvincing defensive stance. Even if she was ready to give up the fight a moment ago, now she owes it to these people. 

His first reaction is to extend a protective arm in front of her, a gesture that the rebels interpret as an attempt to leverage a prisoner to try and escape the situation. She feels the needle sink painfully into his mind as he realizes they want to protect her from him. 

“Release her, you imp. You're surrounded.”

She can feel the shadows leave her surroundings, leaving behind a pale reflection of the forest, of the kids’ angry and scared faces circling in around them. That darkness gathers into the young man's palms, dancing across his fingers with whispers of destruction. And (Y/N) fears, ready to jump into action down a path she’s been running from. 

After a moment to carefully consider the situation, Luke slowly raises his hands. “It seems I'm outnumbered,” he declares calmly.

The rebel captain is still processing what he just said when he offers up his wrists to his new captors. Soon they’re bound in a pair of stun cuffs. It seems it won’t be her wearing them for now.

****

(Y/N) doesn’t remember when she finally collapsed. Maybe the feeling of being surrounded by allies allowed her body to give out, or the vision of Luke being taken flooded her with that impotence she’s become so familiar with. But the first thought that bubbles up as she recovers consciousness is that she doesn’t think those kids ever let her hit the ground.

When she wakes a gentle fire fills the chamber with orange light. The cool sky of a darkening evening at the other side of the narrow crevice in the rock wall reveals that she’s been asleep for at least a whole day. The chamber around her belongs to a humble abode built under rock, rough but cozy. The smell of the herbs hanging from the ceiling fills the room made up of only crooked lines and handmade furniture. Over the fire, a pot simmers.

Her injuries have finally been stitched bandaged properly, and a strong, earthy smell comes out of them. She doesn’t know what kind of medicine they’ve used on her, but she doesn’t feel the need to distrust it. Her flight suit hangs close to the fire, left to dry, though it still has some faint stains of blood. She's been dressed with a comfortable tunic, long down to her ankles, which her injured thigh is thankful for.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” a raspy voice says. An old man just comes through the door, an axe resting on his shoulder. “You almost bled to death. Does it hurt? 

“Less than before.”

He hums approvingly and, leaving the axe resting against the irregular wall, sits by the fire on one of the mismatched chairs. “Calm down, lass. Anyone that still has the guts to face those pigs is welcome in my home.”

She realizes now that her whole body has tensed up. The thought crosses her mind that the old man, even if he seems fit for his age, wouldn’t probably mean a concerning threat to her now that he’s unarmed. It disgusts her. He saved her life and she can’t bring herself to trust even a little. Then again, she can’t sense any ill intention radiating from him. Trusting the Force has not been an easy task in recent times, but she’s too weak now not to listen to it. 

“I thank you for your help, sir.”

“Imoviah. None of that sir nonsense. Tell me, what happened to you? I’m dying for some good gossip. It’s been ages without news other than that bantha poodoo propaganda they feed the local stations around here. We didn’t know about the battle until it was raging over our heads”

“The base on the moon of Jolah was blown up three weeks ago,” she explains, pointing at the pale satellite hanging in the sky. “A small squad was sent to look for surviving rebels, but we had a trap waiting for us. We were following rumors that spoke about some of the survivors making it to the surface of the planet, but nothing sure.”

“So finally someone came looking for it.”

The face of a scruffy child, with tattered clothes and dirt on his face, pokes shyly through the entrance before coming in. He exchanges a few whispers with the old man and, now that she gets to look at him under the light of the flames, she recognizes him.

“Ab?” she asks. “You’re Elise’s kid, right? Your mom is a mechanic in the Rebellion.”

The kid just nods sheepishly just before the old man slaps his knees and gets up.

“I’m afraid that the ones that made it here are just those who couldn’t fight.  Those up there in the base got them out trying not to get the Empire’s attention.”

“And they didn’t run themselves?”

The old man gives her a knowing stare, “Things are not what they were. This isn’t a war anymore. Come, I’ll show you the rest.”

After finding a walking stick for her, Imoviah guides her through dark tunnels carved in the rock, little Ab holding his hand. As they get deeper, (Y/N) can feel more and more pairs of eyes fixed on her from the shadows. Their fear reaches her through the Force. This is the last shelter for the Rebellion left in the Jolah system, keeping those who were left behind safely hidden in these dark and humid passages. Here survive the children of her companions, most of them fallen now, and a few rebels that were too severely injured to flee or fight, all trapped and surrounded by the enemy, their lives depending on the secret of their existence.

And she’s brought the enemy right into their last refuge.

These old passageways have become their fortress. (Y/N) is received as a hero, the first good news in way too long. She’s warned not to venture far on her own, since they don’t know how far the tunnels go or what dangers might she fall into. The adults keep the living area clean and safe for a functioning community of around sixty people, but there are strict rules not to wander, since those who get lost don’t usually come back. The oldest among those who can still fight, mostly between thirteen and sixteen, have stepped up to lead the group. Roles are carefully distributed, since their survival depends on all of them doing their job right. They live off whatever the forest can provide and the help of some sympathizers living in the town half a day away. But Imoviah, a local who’s lived in these woods all his life brewing ardees, is the only one who knows exactly the location of their hiding spot, since he comes and goes on supply runs. 

The competence the kids display saddens her. The war of their parents has made soldiers out of them. 

(Y/N) is glad that the chance to rest her injuries for a bit came while she was unconscious, or she would’ve had trouble hiding from them like a moody teenager. She feels bad for wanting to be left alone, but each of their constant questions poke at her heart. What battles she’s fought, what heroes she knew. The rebel came to Jolah on a mission to evacuate them, but after the attack that took her companion’s lives she doesn’t have any resources to do so. If she doesn’t figure it out, they’re all lost. They can’t keep hiding forever, since it’s only a matter of time before the Empire finds them, and that’s just they haven’t been found already. 

Her senses timidly tread down the corridors, to where the prisoner is being kept. She doesn't feel strong enough to face him yet, so she can just wonder what kind of trick Luke is trying to pull by surrendering himself.

So she lets her allies show her around and feed her while she yearns for the moment she can finally be excused. Of course, after she goes to rest that night, nightmares don’t take long to wake her. She’s used to it by now so, knowing that she won’t be able to fall asleep for a few hours, she decides to walk the scare off and maybe relieve whomever happens to be on watch duty.

However, as soon as she steps out of the chamber she was sleeping in, a cool gust hits her face. The whisper of a voice follows right after, faintly calling. Can it really be her name? She chases after the exhalation through the passages in the dark, enthralled by a strange tingling sensation in the back of her head.

Then she wakes up in an unfamiliar place. Stars flicker above her head, and the cold air hits her face. She’s outside. The instinct to flee back to safety kicks in, but she can’t help notice the concentric circles carved on the floor, lighting up with a bluish glow that turns brighter with the vibrations in her aura getting stronger. As she tries to put a finger on where she has seen the carved patterns before, the lights continue to vibrate in tune with her own signature. She’s no doubt standing in a sanctuary.The symbols climb up to some sort of table, perhaps even an altar, made out of the same rock. She is known by this place, though she doesn’t remember ever being to somewhere so strong in the Force. It feels like she could reach with her hand and touch it.  The swaying of its currents invites her to stay, promising healing and peace. Oh, how dearly she has missed the light, unambiguous and true. She lets the nostalgia wash over her, one that doesn’t belong to her, a gaze turned to years past before this place was abandoned and forgotten. 

However, she isn’t a stranger to those feelings of loss that fill the carved terrace. Where she once held hope, now she grieves for the loss of her comrades and the future that should have been, one where Jedi would rediscover this place. Now that will never happen, and she can’t help the feeling that she has a hand in the erasure of their kind. Not long ago, she still dreamt of being knighted someday, but that path has disappeared forever. The Jedi are dead.

A dreadful realization creeps over her. She hasn’t just led the enemy into a rebel base, but also into a Jedi sanctuary. It seems to have been built on top of the rocky formation under which the tunnels hide, on a high spot unreachable from the outside. It has probably been thanks to its benevolent influence that the refugees have managed to remain hidden but now, because of her, this sacred place won’t be able to protect them anymore.

She runs down the stairs, back to the darkness, flooded by the guilty need to do something.

***

The guard she finds watching over the heavy door of the cell, a teenager holding a blaster awkwardly, insists that she should go back to rest, but she ignores the warning. She needs to talk to the prisoner, for unselfish reasons this time. 

“Go take a walk, will you?” she tells him.

On the way here she’s been forming the idea that maybe she’ll be able to exchange her precious hostage for safe passage out of the planet, at least for those hiding in the tunnels. Suddenly, these children might stand a chance. And maybe she won’t be responsible for their capture.

However, as soon as she steps into the dungeon she’s shaken by her own body’s betrayal, choosing now of all times to remind her of that embrace from earlier that afternoon. Luke’s warmth hasn’t left her yet, nor the memory of his cloak shielding her from the rain with the promise of more to be found under those layers of black robes. It brings a displeased sigh to her lips.

As the heavy door closes behind her, the rebel finds her prisoner standing next to the tiny opening in the wall that serves as a window, his expectant expression immediately turned to her. Those stubborn wildflowers have made their way down there, their pure white heads shyly poking through the opening in the rock. Instinctively, Luke steps towards her, but quickly reminds himself to stop in his tracks. Good. She finds a twisted pleasure in making him wait and wonder, reveling in the agitation of his contradicting thoughts. It makes her feel a little less alone in her uncertainty. After they’re finally alone behind a locked gate she takes her time to sit on a stool, to try and get comfortable in spite of her injured leg, all while avoiding his gaze. She doesn’t know where to start. 

“What are you trying?” At her question, Luke opens his mouth to talk, but interrupts himself. (Y/N) groans. “We both know it’s not a great military strategy to go after an enemy on your own and let yourself be captured by a bunch of children.”

“I had to see you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Again, doubt. She waves away the whispers of the Force, too angry to listen to his emotions reaching her.

“Actually, no, I don’t. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been a little busy trying not to get killed by your people. Forgive me if I haven’t been considering your feelings while I saw my friends die and starve in the mud. Tell me, how long before your hounds come for these children? Are you gonna kill them? Or do you prefer washing their brains to turn them into soldiers that would go murder their own parents and everything they fight for? The ones you haven't orphaned already, that is.”

In the middle of those accusations, he flinches. One of them makes him angry, then that initial jab turns to a deeper pain. She doesn’t even care which one did it.

“I came here on my own, I swear. No one else knows.”

“Save your promises. I’ve seen how you keep them.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” he insists, his exasperation growing.

“Oh, no, of course not. You’re a saint. I remember you said that, next time we crossed paths, I’d get the rebel treatment.”

Luke raises his bound wrists, like that’s enough of an answer. “Isn’t that what you’re doing? Playing the rebel part?” She scoffs, but he’s not done. “Listen, I understand why you’re doing this. But I hoped you’d realize-” he interrupts himself again.

“What?”

Luke swallows thickly, fearing the storm he’s about to summon. “That this isn’t helping anyone. If you just took the help that’s being offered to you…”

“I can manage perfectly on my own, thank you,“ she spits.

“I see how well that’s working out for you.”

His petulant tone makes (Y/N) stand up from her seat with just the strength of her rage, ignoring the painful flare that runs down her leg. “Listen carefully. You’re free to come fight me, imprison me, even try to kill me and it would all be fair. That's what I get for getting into a war. But I won’t hear this talk about how much I need your protection or pity. You don’t get to disrespect me like that.”

Luke clenches his jaw and just stares at her, visibly holding his tongue. There it is again, the darkness congregating in his hands, making his blood pump with wrath. How far does she have to push before he gives in to it?

“And it tears me apart that you'd treat me as your pet,” she spits, more sincere than she’d like.

Because she would crumble down if she looked away, she bravely maintains contact with his unbearable gaze, seeing in it how he considers making her do what he wants. A rotten part of her wishes to see him try, shattering  in the process all remains of tenderness they might still harbor for each other. And even though it inspires genuine horror in her, her anger makes her swallow it up whole. It’s all because of this dark thread buried deep in her chest, pulling out towards him. Until now, she’s been able to drown that pull as background noise as she carried out her duties, but now that Luke is this close it’s brutal. Like a black hole, deep inside she wants to give into the attraction and disappear in his shadow.

And then she realizes she has stood up. She feels like a fool, standing confused and defensive in the middle of the room, her chest pounding furious as if she just climbed up a mountain. The rebel stares at him up and down as she sits again, breathless. 

“Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything. It’s all you.”

She stares at the floor, shaken by shame. After all the work of hardening her heart, of convincing herself that she hated him, she feels herself slip down again. Luke's voice is but a mere whisper, like he's talking to himself. 

“You can’t lie to me either, can you?”

“It’s just…” As her mental shields come down she can’t help feeling like a lost child. “I didn’t expect this to be so cold.” 

Instantly, Luke has come to kneel before her, eyes raised up to her with a question. It makes it so easy for her to reach for his left hand to softly rest the back against her cheek. Gently melting into each other’s space, she curses herself for letting him in her mind, for having let things go so far in the first place. 

“I bet you regret not killing me when you had the chance,” she says, unsure of why she expects him to laugh. Maybe because it would be easier to stomach than seeing him tilt his head, between horrified and exhausted, and answer earnestly.

“I’m not giving you up. I tried to deny it too at first, before I knew that you felt the same way.”

Luke’s signature wraps around her like a lover’s caress, welding itself with hers perfectly as he delves deeper into her open defenses. It is the warmth, the sweet warmth she has missed, that eases the many loads she’s been carrying on her own. The rebel presses a kiss on his knuckles.

“I hate you.”

Luke offers a soft grin in response, knowing she can pile that on top of all of the other messed up feelings she holds for him. He’s so willing to take them all. “I probably deserve it.”

The one that weighs more now, though, is the void of his absence finally filled again. Her tears for it dried so much suffering ago. His bound hands trace up the shapes of her neck, a reminder that this weakness is shared. She tastes this irresponsible consolation for her sins as her fingers delve into his hair. One defeat after another, loss after loss, (Y/N) has grown small and spent, too tainted with hatred to try and bring him back. She has filled all the time away from him with a half hearted search for hope, and she hasn’t found it.

His breath on her throat relieves her cold skin.

“What are we going to do?” 

“You talk as if there was an option we weren’t to regret.”

“Is that what you want? Something regrettable?” Luke offers, his closeness alluring as she grabs the collar of his tabard and brings him closer. However, they only dare allow their lips to brush lightly in passing. “We could escape from everything. Disappear to some remote place where no one knows who we are.”

“We both know we won’t do that,” she chuckles. A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Seeing you consider it for a second was nice, though.”

What’s out there still finds the way to invade their intimacy, much to (Y/N)’s growing feelings of dread. “I can either be a good rebel and take you prisoner or fuck you and go on pretending nothing happened afterwards. Not both. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m in a bit of a predicament at the moment.”

Even now, she finds herself playing the twisted game of seeing how far she can take him, maybe in the hopes of finding something ugly to punish herself with. Instead, Luke opens up to her. 

"Alright. Use me then.” Luke lets out a brief laugh, though a certain bitterness can be felt through it, as if even he resents his own impulsive streak. “Ask for any ransom you want and you will have it."

"Like I'd trust the Empire."

"You wouldn't have to. You'll use my personal code to talk directly to the person you need.”

(Y/N) stands up from her seat, too exhausted to feign dismay, and takes clunky steps around the room. She really hadn’t woken up contemplating that she’d be ending her day with a chat with Vader. Luke stays down, next to the stool, as if he didn’t have the upper hand in this in spite of being captive.

“Same issue.”

“Whatever I promise to you, he will honor it. I swear.” Heavens, he’s a brat. “I get it, you loathe the idea. But I also might be getting a feeling that you have some urgent demands.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

“The Jedi sanctuary.”

Her jaw tightens. “Not really mine to give away, is it?”

“Then it won’t hurt, will it?” Her nostrils flare at the comment, but she keeps silent. Even if she doesn’t fully comprehend its importance, she’s not keen on the idea of letting this sacred place be potentially defiled. However, it’s true that she really doesn’t have much of a choice. 

“There’s something else I want,” he continues.

“Spit it out.”

“I just want you to answer some questions.” Her eyes narrow. That is too vague and she has too many secrets she’s not willing to give away. “Don’t worry, they won’t endanger anyone’s life.”

The rebel snaps her tongue and shifts in her seat. But nods. “Alright. You’ll have them answered.”

Well, as much as she hates the situation, maybe she has the chance to take this to good port. Do something good. Hell, she can’t remember the last time she thought of herself as a good person, back when she was so eager to struggle for reasons she can’t even remember anymore. Acting in hopes of making her dead master proud, like he could see her, feel foolish now. However, there’s one thing she misses from her past righteous little self, and that’s knowing how to fight. Yeah, perhaps she was too hard on herself back then. Maybe she was good. However, that illusion fades as she voices this one command.

"Put your hands against the wall.” This is far from wise and she hates herself for it. However, her common sense has been taken captive by the lovely confusion blooming on Luke’s face. “You can either do it or wait for me to change my mind."

That candid expression she’d missed so much in him dissolves into a bratty smirk. "Yes, ma'am."

She doesn’t appreciate the attitude, not when she’s this angry. There’s a second when he’s with his back turned to her, handcuffed wrists against the wall of the cell, that she considers listening to reason and leaving. Instead, the challenge becomes appetizing. Afraid to let her doubt be read, she steps closer. Luke inhales sharply as she reaches around and, carefully at first, palms over his trousers. She quickly finds what she’s come looking for. 

“Is this your usual reaction whenever you come chasing after me? No wonder you put so much effort in hunting me down.” 

Luke shudders when she presses on his erection more boldly this time, revealing the prolonged aching he’s been hiding. Exactly what she needs to hastily undo the fastenings, eager to make most of the little time they might have for this. The rebel lightly rakes down the soft, light brunette hairs of his happy trail, making him sigh. Satisfied with her first little incursion and desirous for another one, she gives a generous lick to her palm before sliding it into his pants, while her other hand tugs down on the waistband of his underwear before digging her fingers into his hip. She rubs wet circles around the sensitive head of his cock, already painfully swollen and pink, and takes delight in the soft whimper she gets in response to her slightly aggressive and sudden attentions. But she decides to be merciful and softens the touch with the first stroke down the full length. She intends for this to be quick but she still wants to enjoy it a little.

“Here I come to talk business while your thoughts drift somewhere else entirely,” she teases. Luke hums something that’s meant to sound like an apology. It succeeds at softening her tone. “Don’t worry about it, I got you. Next time, just ask.”

While he leans against the wall, he can get a good view of everything she’s doing. It’s only fair, since she loves to watch his enthralled face progressively let go of that put together facade he exhibited at first, the red deepening across his cheeks and his eyes brimming with filthy pleas, like he doesn’t believe this is happening to him.

Suddenly, a gloved hand grabs her collar and brings her up, her back hitting the wall. Before she can protest her lips are captured in his, needy and warm and sloppy, as his palms cup her cheeks, one burning hot and the other cool leather.

“Please, love. Faster,” Luke begs through the tiny gap he allows, making the grip between her legs tighten around nothing. The mere touch of her own clothes there has her already burning for more. The rebel melts at the sight of need painted in the glossy eyes of her enemy, at being held so sweetly after so long, and realizes that she can’t get angry at him. 

“That’s it. Ask me anything,” as she happily complies, her hand dancing with soft movements of his hips, a low moan forms from the back of his throat. “I can’t get enough of your pretty face when you do.” 

Whispering more praise, she covers Luke’s throat with open kisses. Her free hand climbs up his torso, hard fingers tracing the toned shapes under the black robes. Upon reaching his chest she pinches and twists slightly, stealing a surprised whimper that tells her that she's succeeded at finding a nipple 

Suddenly, rustling on the other side of the door freezes them both in place. Her hand suddenly stops, but she keeps it tightly wrapped around him.

“(Y/N),” Imoviah calls, “are you alright in there?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” (Y/N) answers, enjoying the sudden shame spreading all over her lover’s face. “Negotiations are going well.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

Luke’s hips start rolling with short, irregular movements. He’s tried, but he can’t help himself any longer. She covers his mouth and gives his dick a light squeeze and twist that brings out a delicious, hot moan to be muffled against her palm.

“Not for now. The prisoner has proven to be quite cooperative.”

“Alright, then. Give me a holler if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Imoviah. I’ll be with you shortly” 

As the steps walk away, she slowly resumes her thrusts, slightly opening the fingers over Luke’s mouth to trace over his lips. Not before long, he’s sucking on them. 

“Suddenly worried about your reputation? That's cute.”

He just whines through her fingers, a glint of hurt pride in his teary eyes. Slowly, his hands descend from the wall to sweetly stroke down her face, down her throat. However, as soon as they reach her collar, a violent flare of fear blares inside her brain, bouncing through every corner that makes her abruptly grab his bound wrists and return them to their original position, over her head and against the wall.

Luke calls her name with visible concern, but before he can voice it she grabs the back of his hair and increases the pace until he’s out of breath and out of words. And she’s not done yet, because then she retreats her hand so she gets to watch him grow desperate, throbbing miserably, shameful pleas molten into incoherent whining.

“See? You know how to behave.” Finally, she decides it’s time to reward him with more stimulation, swirling the precum around his pink head with thorough fingers before resuming the long awaited strokes. “I’m so in love with your cock.”

The answer is little more than a sighed strain of clumsy thank yous. Pleased with how cute he’s become from just fucking her hand, she brings him closer now, and allows him to rest his head in the crook of her shoulder. No one knows, not a single soul, that the deadliest man alive becomes a squirming mess both when he’s touched and when he isn’t. Her hand answers to his desperate motions with the fast pace he’s begging for, set on bringing him over the edge this time. While words seem to be escaping Luke right now, the soft whimpers in her ear confess how close he is, how hopelessly he craves for his own undoing by her hand.

However, her attentions are suddenly interrupted by the sound of steps outside the cell again. They’re faster this time, with a sense of urgency to them.

“Miss,” the guard, again. “It’s the Imps! They’re scouting the area. They haven’t found any of the entrances yet, but there’s talk of running away.”

“No, that would be more dangerous. Round everyone inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Luke drowns a frustrated whine in her shoulder. The rebel turns her head back to the man panting against her neck, and gently runs a hand through his hair.

“You gotta go,” he groans.

“Luke…”

“It’s fine, really. Go,” he insists, gently pushing her hands away. The pain travels through their bond to her in the form of an unbearable thirst, as if it wasn’t perfectly visible to her already. She’d hate leaving him like this, so he distracts her with a hasty, breathless kiss. “There’s no time now, sweetheart. You gotta run or you’re gonna regret it. And be sure to bring my comlink, quick.”

[ym-loreposting]

The Gloucester Conspiracy

Fire Emblem: Three Houses is home to many story threads that are only really explored in side content such as supports and paralogues found in it and its spin-off Fire Emblem Warriors: Three Hopes. One of these storylines has to do with the death of Raphael's parents and might reveal more about a hidden power struggle going on in the Leicester Alliance. Spoilers for both games follow.

The 'accidental' death of Raphael's parents

Raphael is a character from the Golden Deer house in Three Houses, which represents the Leicester Alliance in the east of Fódlan. Three years before the start of the game, his parents were killed by monsters according to his in-game profile. In his support line with his friend and fellow Golden Deer student Ignatz in Three Houses, more details are given about the event. Both Raphael and Ignatz's parents were merchants working in the Alliance and Raphael's parents were attacked while they were traveling for work. This happened after Ignatz's parents declined to work that job because they had other business, so they recommended Raphael's parents instead.

This all seems straightforward enough, but is complicated in the Paralogue Death Toll, which involves both Raphael and Ignatz. It is revealed at the start that merchants traveling from the lands controlled by House Gloucester of the Alliance to those of House Riegan suffer far more monster attacks than those traveling in the opposite direction. Of note is that House Riegan is the leading house of the Leicester Alliance.

The battle of the Paralogue involves saving merchants from such a monster attack. However, there are also some people mixed in with the monsters who seem to be controlling them. These are identified as Alliance Generals who speak of performing some duty and not looking forward to telling a count if they fail to kill the merchants. In the aftermath of the battle, a surviving merchant speculates that Count Gloucester is behind the attacks because he is unhappy with the merchants contributing to House Riegan's wealth.

More pressingly, it is also said that such a scheme was behind the death of Raphael's parents. At the time, they were traveling with the incumbent Duke Riegan, called Godfrey, because Count Gloucester had invited them to strike a deal about some art pieces. Raphael's parents were brought along to assess the value of the pieces in question, but all met their demise at the hands of monsters.

Vying for control of the Alliance

This is not where the story ends however, as both the Shadow Library added in Three Houses's DLC and Warriors: Three Hopes elaborate on these events. The Shadow Library is a library located in Abyss where forbidden books end up, likely those discarded by Seteth from the surface library of Garreg Mach Monastery as explained by a Monk in Chapter 4 of Three Houses:

There are numerous books in this library that you cannot find anywhere else. But once you are here, you can read them easily enough. I doubt someone would go to the trouble of stealing one. Sometimes Seteth will dispose of books that are deemed inappropriate for the monastery, but that's about it.

In the readable book Burnt Remnants of a Report, the following is written about the situation:

… son of the Alliance’s leader, Duke Oswald Riegan, has died in an accident. This follows an incident involving the previous successor, and even the Knights of Seiros suspect it was at Count Gloucester’s command, though it seems too conspicuous. There is some concern that this could spark a war. With Duke Riegan gravely ill, the situation is…

It seems the Church of Seiros also suspected something was going on, but war between Gloucester and Riegan was averted according to the Japanese version of the report due to the sickness of Duke Oswald Riegan (the father of Godfrey and grandfather of Claude von Riegan, see family tree for clarification).

The question becomes as to why Count Gloucester would orchestrate the assassination of Godfrey von Riegan, leaving House Riegan to the leadership of his elderly and ailing father Oswald. Given that Oswald dies during the timeskip in Three Houses, it is save to say that the goal was to cause a crisis of leadership in the Leicester Alliance. At the time Godfrey is killed, the existence of Claude is not yet known in the Alliance after all as he only came to Fódlan two years later. A power vacuum would have been created in Leicester without Godfrey after the death of Oswald. House Gloucester is also an important house in Leicester and Lorenz, Count Gloucester's son, often emphasizes how he wants to lead Leicester in Claude's stead in the main game. The bid may have been for House Gloucester to take control of the Alliance.

Schemers in the dark

However, the Burnt Remnants of a Report also emphasize that Count Gloucester might not be behind this conspiracy. It seems too conspicuous in the words of the report and there is implied that there might be another party at play.

Three Hopes further elaborates on this idea, first of all by giving a name and a face to Count Gloucester: Erwin Fritz Gloucester. He is shown to be a pragmatic leader who wishes to protect the people of his lands and is willing to switch sides between the Adrestian Empire and the Alliance during the war that breaks out between the three nations of Fódlan during the game. He is less focused on becoming leader of the Alliance than his son Lorenz as well.

Furthermore, Three Hopes directly gives more details on the incident wherein Raphael's parents and Godfrey von Riegan were killed in the Paralogue Unsettling Truths. In the Paralogue, Lorenz (now Count Gloucester after his father retired), Ignatz and Raphael go to confront a group of bandits wreaking havoc in Gloucester territory. It just so happens these are the same bandits who worked as mercenaries for Erwin and were responsible for the death of Godfrey. The bandits are apprehended and questioned by Lorenz, where more information is revealed.

The bandits claim that when they still worked as mercenaries, they first had normal jobs like protecting villages. However, they one day received orders from an envoy of Erwin to threaten merchants going to Riegan territory. They balked at this idea and instead chased monsters into the path of the merchants to scare them away. This worked at first and might be what was seen in the Paralogue Death Toll. The people in that Paralogue were identified as Alliance Generals instead of mercenaries, but this might be an oversight or translation error in either Three Houses or Three Hopes (given the fact that Godfrey is also erroneously identified as Claude's grandfather instead of his uncle in Unsettling Truths).

Nonetheless, this all eventually led to the incident where Godfrey and Raphael's parents were killed. It seemed the envoy was someone from House Gloucester acting alone and by the time Erwin learned what happened according to Lorenz, the culprit had vanished. Instead Erwin punished the mercenaries and they became bandits afterwards.

The question remains as to who this culprit is. In Unsettling Truths, it is said that Erwin refuses to discuss these matters with Lorenz and instead changes the subject when it comes up. Ignatz meanwhile calls out a scheme like this one seems ill befitting of Erwin's character and motivations of protecting the reputation of the nobility.

It does however fit the modus operandi of another group in Fódlan very well, and that is that of Those Who Slither in the Dark or the Agarthans. They have the ability to shapeshift and so one of them could have easily impersonated someone from House Gloucester to orchestrate the death of Godfrey von Riegan. The Agarthans had also been sowing political turmoil in Fódlan in the years before Three Houses and Three Hopes take place, as they also had hands in the Insurrection of the Seven in the Adrestian Empire and the Tragedy of Duscur in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.

If Erwin was aware of the Agarthans' involvement is hard to say, as he is never seen directly commenting on these events. Three Hopes seems to clear him of most suspicion, but if he believed the death of Godfrey could benefit his people, he might have turned a blind eye, given his pragmatic attitude. And what exactly the Agarhtans were trying to gain with this whole scheme is perhaps best left for another time. Their involvement in this incident seems pretty clear either way, as the Remnants of a Burnt Report seems to cover incidents in which the Agarthans were involved as well.

[danthepest]

So with the Metal Gear Collection out now (of debatable quality), I figured I'd make a short, handy list of the chronological order of these games, and a short summary of what they're about. I'll try to be as vague and spoiler free as possible.

1 - Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater - Takes place in 1964 during the Cold War. CIA operative and FOX unit member Naked Snake is sent to Russia and has to survive the jungle (don't ask, just roll with it) to stop the development and deployment of a new kind of ultimate weapon, the Shagohod. Things are not what they seem and the political machinations of both the United States of America and Russia will have severe repercussions for the rest of the series. Most of all, it will affect Naked Snake and his legacy.

2 - Metal Gear Solid: Portable Ops - Takes place in 1970. FOX has seemingly gone rogue and started a revolt in San Hieronymo. Naked Snake begins to build his own resistance with the help of Roy Campbell. (The game is only available for PSP and while it was touted as a "missing link" between Snake Eater and Metal Gear 1, it hasn't been mentioned or referenced since. Easily skippable.)

3 - Metal Gear Solid: Peace Walker - Takes place in 1974 in Costa Rica. Naked Snake and Kazuhira Miller begin building their private military company Militaires Sans Frontières. As they uncover the truth behind the strife in Costa Rica, Snake's past during the Snake Eater incident comes back to haunt him. (Originally a PSP game, it was included in the PS3 HD collection. This was also billed as a "missing link". Up to you if agree. Definitely need to play this to understand the next game.)

4 - Metal Gear Solid V: Ground Zeroes - Takes place in 1975. After the Peace Walker Incident, one of MSF's own people goes to Cuba on a failed rescue mission and Naked Snake goes in alone to retrieve his man and the person he came to rescue. Serves as an epilogue to Peace Walker and a prologue to the next game.

5 - Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain - Takes place in 1984, primarily in Afghanistan. Ten years after what happens in Ground Zeroes, Naked Snake is rechristened Venom Snake and is rebuilding his forces with Miller, naming themselves Diamond Dogs. They prepare to strike back at the organization that has been targeting them for the last 10 years. A startling truth is revealed and strong alliances shatter.

6 - Metal Gear - Takes place in 1995. FOXHOUND unit rookie, Solid Snake is sent into the fortified state, Outer Heaven, to rescue FOXHOUND veteran Gray Fox and discover the secret behind Outer Heaven's nuclear weapon, the Metal Gear, and the identity of its leader.

7 - Metal Gear 2: Solid Snake - Takes place in 1999. Dr. Kio Marv has bio-engineered a new fuel and energy source that would reduce the consumption of oil. Military forces belonging to Zanzibar Land kidnap the doctor, intending to control the world's oil supply and hold the world hostage as well as stockpiling nuclear weapons. New FOXHOUND commander Roy Campbell forces Solid Snake out of retirement to infiltrate Zanzibar Land and rescue Dr. Kio Marv. Solid Snake is forced to face those he once considered friends and mentors.

8 - Metal Gear Solid - Takes place in 2005. FOXHOUND rebels against the US government and takes over the Alaskan island Shadow Moses, which contains a nuclear weapons disposal facility. Among their demands is the body of Big Boss who is considered the greatest soldier that ever lived. They wish to use his genes to create an army of super soldiers. At the behest of the Secretary of Defense, Roy Campbell once again has to ask Solid Snake out of retirement for one last solo mission. Solid Snake is forced to confront who he is, where he came from and what it is he's fighting for.

9 - Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty - Takes place in 2007 and 2009. In 2007, the anti-terrorist organization Philanthropy learns that a new Metal Gear is being transported through the Hudson river and attempt to stop it. They are thwarted by Russian mercenaries and the tanker is blown up as they get away with said Metal Gear.

In 2009, FOXHOUND operative Raiden is sent to infiltrate the Big Shell, a large decontamination facility that has been taken over by a terrorist faction calling themselves the Sons of Liberty. Raiden must neutralize the threat and save the hostages. However, Raiden will soon learn of a conspiracy that dates back to even before the Cold War and begin to question his own existence.

10 - Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots - Takes place in 2014. War has changed. War has become a commodity and has created what is known as the War Economy. Old Snake is tasked with putting a stop to the madness as well as put an end to a personal war that started as far back as 1964. (So far, this is exclusively a PS3 title, but there is hope that it will be released for PC in a further Metal Gear Collection)

11 - Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance - Takes place in 2018. Raiden has made peace with his lot in life and is trying to support his family by working as a military trainer and VIP bodyguard among other things. While protecting a VIP, Raiden is ambushed and utterly defeated by a cyborg that is part of a larger organization. Raiden begins his quest of vengeance and will finally see if he can put his past behind him.

And there you have it! Dunno really what prompted me to do this, but hey, maybe someone out there will find this helpful or interesting or intriguing or whatever.

[kanna-12r]

Hi!! I wanna know and see your OCs! Tell me more about themmmmm- Lens/Birdie

Birdieee!! 💕

Sorry this took way too long! ;;;;;

I lost this draft a few times so I was about to make it its' own post, but thankfully I found it!

This is a post filled with several tidbits about all eight of my children! Beware, it is very long 💦

This sweetheart right here is S-2508, with gifted name "Lady" 🤍

She was a frontline medic, now mostly stays as the medbay's psychological nurse/caretaker and [redacted].

Considered 'defective' or valued less due to her being a non-combatant, her inability to disregard distinguish emotions, and unawareness towards danger long before an incident that renders her broken.

Post-incident, she regularly steams out smoke when experiencing negative emotions. This could lead to a full-blown glitches and seizure. (Reference: Barbara Shadow from Shadow House)

Her veil and vial necklace is inspired by Victorian mourning attire. The vial is a memorial piece of sort.

She tends to unconsciously avoid other agents out of habit.

Although it takes a toll on her, Lady spends most of her time watching the live broadcast, sometimes making notes in order to be able to care for injured agents straight after.

The arm cuff on her right arm is a gift from her 1st partner, Faerie.

This darling over here is C-0209, you may call her "Faerie".

She was a weaponsmith and a battle agent like any other, with a scythe as her preferred weapon of choice.

A polaroid camera-head. In contrast with her peers, she couldn't record or broadcast her views.

Her wings and headwings are her personal customization. You may pet them if you ask for permission.

Capable of at least carrying two people when flying up in the air.

Friendly, but considered as some sort of an airhead and unserious agent.

Has a massive crush towards both Lady and Mystic. She was the one who gifted them their current personal names!

Gave one of her arm cuffs to Lady when they got paired to be partners.

Considered dead non-active post-incident, due to her core energy being shattered. There's a chance for her to be revived, hence Lady's vial.

This woman right here is TV-1309 with personal name "Mystic"!

She's an supervisor / overseer and Lady's 2nd partner / guardian.

Rather monotone and harsh, only has a definite soft spot crush towards Lady.

The only one out of others that was created prior to the war (as a companion), has met and worked for humans before.

Prone to jealousy, considers herself as inferior against her TV peers due to her original nature.

Dislikes comparison in general.

The dogtag necklace has her serial number and personal names engraved onto it.

Acts rather indifferent towards the Alliance, despite her diligently working for them against the damned toilets. Reasons are [redacted].

If you have no business with her, please remember to never come near. For your own safety.

This man is a medic cam numbered C-1311, with personal name "Chevron".

The leader of Lady's team. Takes high pride in his job, and is very pressured by others' expectations.

Acted rather apathetic towards his members, adamant with his commands, and prioritized their performance on top of everything else despite the relentless shenanigans that they caused.

Does not acknowledge weaknesses and disregards anything that he deems untrue in his view. Your opinion does not matter, it's better to not fight him.

Similarly to Lady, he does not understand emotions. But in contrast with that, he is similar to Mystic in regards of harboring jealousy towards his comrades.

Post-incident, he lost his pride and swore to keep a closer eye to the surviving ones he has left.

Fought the higher-ups twice due to him refusing to let any of his surviving members being dismantled or thrown away.

This big guy is LS-1410, and was gifted the name "Ornate"!

The vice-leader, a big softie and gentle man who acts like the opposite of Chevron.

Still a pretty strong and relentless guy, a very good combatant despite his main job as a medic. Why is he even a medic if he has the capability necessary for fighting?

Acted as Lady's unofficial guardian before Mystic. Was valued similarly due to his meek personality.

Post-incident, he begged to be taken away with others for not being able to fulfill his role in the Alliance despite his fixable injuries. His wish was not granted.

He taught Lady on how to deal with her emotions and steaming habit.

Has similar cracks like Lady at the back of his head.

Usually tasked to take care of the non-surviving agents along with Lady. Mostly because they're the only ones who are seen as dedicated enough.

This sassy-ass guy is S-2110, you may refer to them with their gifted name, "Euphony"!

A speaker medic that thrives from causing chaos and shenanigans within the team, which commonly isn't seen from a medic. Nowadays, they're more melancholic though.

Has an infinite amount of energy that's more fitting to that of a battle agent.

A pretty good combatant. Others wonder why are they even a medic in the first place?

Elegy's lover. Loves dragging him to the crimes they're about to commit.

In contrast with the chaos, they like to sing in a very soft, elegant manner. The one who taught Lady to regulate her singing.

Lost half of their core and both legs during the incident. Their legs got fixed just fine, but now they have trouble staying active for a prolonged amount of time. (Reference: Padparadscha from Houseki no Kuni)

Still helps around as a medic in the medbay along with Lady. Don't piss them off though, they know what they are.

This guy right here is C-1310, he's gifted with the name "Elegy".

A laid-back cam that loves tinkering and fixing machinery, hence why he fits as a medic, yet also not.

Pretty calm and level-headed, but also an enabler to his lover chaos. Could go batshit insane if it's anything involving Euphony.

Was a battle agent before being sent to the medbay along with Euphony. Reasons are [redacted].

Has personal grudge towards Chevron due to the incident. Or maybe he's just a hater, who knows? Euphony knows.

Ornate is rather intimidated by him.

His favorite pastime is to listen to the speakerheads in his team sing.

Post-incident, he likes to spend his time sorting through the Alliance's collection of documents and records, acting as a librarian or some sort while still helping as a medic.

He could ruin anyone, figuratively or literally.

Lastly, this big baby right here is "Arete", a clock mimic that is based on the setting from our dearest Cosmica!

They spent their entire young phase alone, with no parents nor guardians, hence their lack of understanding about the world. They still do not have any friends, although they know other mimics exist.

Loves plushies and dolls. They love collecting them within their nest as a form of safe haven.

Their name is a piece of memorial. The necklace and bow were also part of it.

Was found by S-2508 (Lady) during her rare journey outside of the base.

Refuses to talk to anyone else besides Lady, and communicates mainly through acted out signs (usually using a plushy they carry at the time).

Has an irregular 'eating' habits, causing the life energy glow to be all over the place and prolonged sleeping cycle.

These ones are characters that are present in my fic series so far. They're not OCs since they are not intended to be specific individuals with their own backstories, but I'll drop these doodles here just because.

There are "you" or "y/n", the speaky-cam pair we met in the first chap, our worrywart Scientist Cam, Large Speaky, our big boi Strider Speaker, and our darling TVman (he's not pictured here cause I ran out of place, too much pics).

Idk if I'll actually post 'em anytime soon since most of them are nonsense scribbles, but yea!

[theink-stainedfolk]

Favourite Character Poll

Thank you for the tag @thecomfywriter ♡

Rules: list all your main ocs and give brief descriptions of them. then, create a poll with their names and allow your followers to vote on who their favourite character is.

I'll take from different WIPs

Paradox Paragon

Auriel Keirs

A highly intelligent and analytical individual with an eidetic memory, Auriel is driven by the pursuit of truth and justice. He can be aloof and distant, often lost in thought as he works to unravel complex mysteries. Despite his logical nature, he has a deeply buried sense of empathy that surfaces in unexpected ways.

Ilmaris Halcyon

Ilmaris is a determined and strong-willed individual who upholds a strict sense of justice. As a former ChronoCorps agent, they are skilled, resourceful, and unafraid to take on challenges. Despite their rigid exterior, Ilmaris has a deep capacity for compassion and is protective of those they care about.

Quill & Court

Ruban Reidi

A warm-hearted poet who dreams of a carefree life filled with good food, a cozy home, and love. Despite his disdain for politics, he finds himself tangled in the complex affairs of the Wadiyya Dynasty, reluctantly becoming Emperor Jashir's trusted advisor.

Jashir Rehan Kuhan Wadiyya

The emperor of Wadiyya, who appears powerful but is isolated and surrounded by enemies. With a stoic and reserved nature, he struggles to express his emotions and must navigate the treacherous political landscape with little support.

Anchored Hearts

Leone Hanrahann

A reserved and introspective woman who finds solace in her books and quiet spaces. She's thoughtful, values knowledge, and is suddenly thrust into the complexities of political alliances.

Briar Eden Halliwell

A confident and commanding naval admiral with a strong sense of duty and integrity. Despite his outward strength, he harbors deep respect and a protective nature towards those he cares about.

Whispers of Shadow & Love

Vesperine Chevalier

Vesperine is an adventurous and determined professional diver and a linguist student with a passion for uncovering ancient artifacts. She's known for her intelligence, independence, and a bit of a sarcastic edge.

Arkyn Fontaine

Arkyn is a brilliant archeologist in making with a mysterious aura. He has a sharp mind and a strong sense of loyalty but often keeps his emotions guarded. His childhood dream was to travel the world and collect stories.

Transcendent Allies/ Crossing Realms

Vinny Monteith

Vinny is a curious and enthusiastic young man who loves gaming and virtual worlds. He's a bit of a introvert, but once you get to know him, he's warm and friendly. Vinny is also determined and resourceful, often relying on his wits to overcome challenges.

General Chén Xī

Chén Xi is a confident and charismatic leader who commands respect. He's a natural strategist and problem-solver, with a strong sense of justice. Despite his tough exterior, he has a soft spot for those in need and will go to great lengths to protect his allies.

Legacy of Creation

Dr. Anselm Ravenscroft

Dr. Ravenscroft is a complex character with a mix of intelligence, ambition, and spite. He's driven by a desire to prove his doubters wrong and make a name for himself in the scientific community. However, his obsession with his work has made him increasingly reclusive and bitter.

Acheron

Acheron is an enigmatic figure with an unsettling presence. Initially, he's charming and affable, but as the story progresses, his obsession with Dr. Ravenscroft grows, revealing a darker side. Acheron is intelligent and resourceful, but his fixation on his creator becomes increasingly unnerving.

I'll tag @cssnder @finickyfelix @willtheweaver @ascotwriting @agirlandherquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @illarian-rambling @winglesswriter @paeliae-occasionally @the-golden-comet @graveyardshift111 @drchenquill @roarintheheavens

[batshieroglyphics]

FIC: We're Not Gonna Fall ~ Star Wars ~ Your Hands Protect the Flame 'Verse ~ Fox/Obi-Wan ~ Mature

Title: We're Not Gonna Fall Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Era Series: Your Hands Protect the Flame Author: Batsutousai Rating: Mature Pairing: Commander Fox/Obi-Wan Kenobi Warnings: Alternate Universe, Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan, Jedi culture, non-binary clone troopers, trans clone troopers, clones and Jedi as found family, injury & gore, violence, slavery rings, enslavement, minor character death, torture (emotional, physical, and sexual, mostly off-screen), dead dove: do not eat, switching point of views, happy ending Summary: Ahsoka Tano gets separated from her master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and other senior Jedi during a mission that turned out to be far more dangerous than any of them had expected. Is an unexpected alliance the key to getting them all home safely? Sequel to To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For).

When throwing up hadn't helped, Hondo found himself some alcohol. And, by 'some', he meant a lot. That said, he didn't even make it through his second glass, before it occurred to him that Ashla hadn't been with Ben. Neither had the oversized, medically-inclined clone, Baar. There was a widely-known caution, in the criminal world, that, if you want to take off with a young Jedi, you had best make very kriffing certain that any adult Jedi who might come looking for them were very dead, or you were going to be the one very dead. Hondo wasn't about to contest that warning. However, he'd started noticing—since he'd begun paying a bit more attention to the stories of Jedi that reached his corner of the galaxy—that the reverse also seemed to be true, especially since the war's end, and the wide-spread rumours that Jedi no longer left Coruscant without at least one clone at their back. The only Jedi contact that Hondo had—to his knowledge; he honestly wouldn't put it past the sneaky bastards to find another couple on the list of smugglers, pirates, and bounty hunters he was on something approaching friendly terms with—was Ben. He didn't have any way to call for help, when Ben was the one in deep shit, and the Ohnaka Gang were pirates, not fighters; they couldn't stand against the creepy umbaran and her lightning fingers, not with the number of beings who answered to her. But. Hondo did have the frequency for Ben's ship. If Ashla and Baar were aboard it, he could get them word, and they could handle calling down a Jedi or clone strike force. If they weren't on that ship... Hondo would betray a lot of his very flexible morals for the right price, but leaving someone he honestly liked and considered a friend to be tortured and enslaved was not something he could stomach. Even if staying would mean he would end up tortured or killed himself. Well, if he was lucky, Barb wouldn't decide that he much preferred holding on to his new position as leader of the Ohnaka Gang, over endangering all of them in some suicide run to rescue Hondo and Ben. Or, if he did decide to betray Hondo, he would at least do the bare minimum of getting the word out that there were Jedi captured and being held to torture on the planet Korriban. He sighed and knocked back the last of his second glass, then got up to find a comm or three to steal.

You can read it here, on Archive of Our Own!

Please have kindness for your writer on this lovely Star Wars Day and reblog this post to share this shitshow fic with others!

[mariacallous]

The second half of 2024 is shaping up to be an anxious time for the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), the U.S.-led alliance bloc that comprises 32 member states across North America and Europe and exists to help protect each other from external threats. The Russian military continues to ravage Ukraine and menace the alliance’s doorstep, while Russia is already fighting a kind of hybrid war against member states. Meanwhile, domestic political challenges are mounting on both sides of the Atlantic. In Europe, far-right parties appear to be gaining strength, so much so in France that President Emmanuel Macron called early parliamentary elections. Marine Le Pen, the leader of France’s far-right National Rally, has advocated for taking French troops out of the U.S.-led NATO integrated command and for a rapprochement between NATO and Russia, whose president, Vladimir Putin, she has openly praised in the past.

But it is the 2024 U.S. presidential election that poses a unique threat to NATO. While European member countries continue to play frontline roles in the alliance and are focused on increasing defense needs in the wake of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the unavoidable reality is that the United States remains the bedrock of NATO’s ability to deter external attacks. And in 2024, the two presidential candidates hold starkly different views about the alliance’s future.

The Republican Party’s presumptive nominee, former President Donald Trump, has consistently sent mixed signals about his commitment to collective defense and privately mused that he might withdraw the United States from the alliance. Such a move would be a total reversal after four years of President Joe Biden bolstering NATO, including its expansion to include Finland and Sweden in the wake of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

In response to Trump’s threats, the U.S. House and Senate included a provision in last year’s National Defense Authorization Act that prohibits a president from withdrawing the United States from NATO without approval from a two-thirds majority in the Senate or a separate act of Congress.

However, the congressional move does not necessarily protect NATO from a potential second Trump term. Even if he is prevented by law from formally withdrawing the United States from NATO, Trump could use his presidential power to severely undermine the alliance and withdraw U.S. support for it in all but name. Although there has been significant debate over whether the United States should maintain its commitment to a Cold War-era alliance, it is natural for allies to expect any reduction or wind-down of the U.S. commitment to be congressionally sanctioned. Yet Trump’s long-standing and stark views on NATO and his history of abrupt action as president mean that a second Trump term could be a potential earthquake for the alliance.

What does a commitment to NATO mean?

After 75 years, NATO can seem like a piece of old furniture: For some, it feels like it has always been there, and getting rid of it would be unthinkable, while for others, it is hopelessly outdated. Founded in 1949, NATO was designed to prevent another European war in the shadow of the Soviet Union’s conquest of Eastern Europe after World War II. The first secretary general of NATO reportedly said that the alliance’s purpose was “to keep the Americans in, the Russians out, and the Germans down.”

For member countries, NATO is a broad, substantial, and high-stakes commitment, as reflected in its two key provisions, Article 5 and Article 10. Article 5 proclaims that an “armed attack” against one member of the alliance will be treated as an attack on all of them. Given that a nuclear-armed Soviet Union was the motivating threat behind the alliance, Article 5 has always carried with it the risk of escalation to nuclear war. In practice, Article 5 has only been invoked once: On September 12, 2001, the North Atlantic Council met and announced that it would invoke Article 5 to demonstrate solidarity with the United States after the terrorist attacks on U.S. soil the day before.

Article 10 opens the NATO membership door to any European country that upholds the principles of the alliance and can contribute to its security. The open door allowed for NATO’s expansion to Greece and Turkey in 1952, West Germany in 1955, and Spain in 1982. From 1999-2020, 14 Central and Eastern European nations joined NATO. And in the past two years, Finland and Sweden became NATO’s 31st and 32nd members.

These two provisions mean that if there is an attack on any of these countries, from Turkey and Estonia to France and Canada, the United States and all its other NATO allies are expected to fight as if they themselves had been attacked.

NATO has faced political challenges since its founding

It is easy to forget that NATO faced political headwinds from its inception. Moscow’s backing for a communist coup in Czechoslovakia in February 1948, followed by a Soviet blockade of West Berlin, convinced President Harry Truman to form a tight bond across the Atlantic. Through NATO, Truman sought to prevent another European war that might draw in the United States, keep the North Atlantic community secure and prosperous through free trade, and maintain the emerging postwar international order (which ultimately reinforced U.S. dominance on the world stage).

But after decades at or on the brink of war in Europe, U.S. politicians and the broader U.S. public were decidedly lukewarm about an open-ended commitment to fight on behalf of other countries. Because NATO is a treaty-based organization, Truman could not constitutionally commit the United States to join the alliance without approval from two-thirds of the U.S. Senate. Truman needed help from the internationalist wing of a divided Republican Party to get the treaty ratified in 1949. Support for international institutions like the United Nations and NATO remained an issue within the GOP, however. It was an issue in the race for the 1952 Republican presidential nomination, between the alliance skepticism of the conservative Robert Taft and the internationalist outlook of NATO’s first supreme commander, Dwight Eisenhower. Eisenhower won the nomination and ultimately the presidency, cementing U.S. support for NATO as a bipartisan endeavor.

However, the victory of the internationalist U.S. political outlook did not end NATO’s internal challenges, which persisted throughout the Cold War. Given the United States’ dramatically larger military and logistical capabilities, the Article 5 collective defense provision has always depended in practice on the credibility of the U.S. commitment to NATO. But the outsized American role in NATO has also led to tensions. NATO members in Europe make indispensable and significant military contributions to the alliance—including troops, bases, infrastructure, specialized capabilities, and crucially, the acceptance of geopolitical risk given their proximity to the Soviet Union during the Cold War and Russia today. At times, European countries chafed under American dominance of NATO’s integrated command, wanting more control over the security capabilities that affect their populations so directly.

Even as they maintained this dominance, U.S. presidents have protested since NATO’s founding that European members do not spend enough for the collective defense. Eisenhower complained, and so did John F. Kennedy. Barack Obama criticized “free riders.” Donald Trump came into office in January 2017 believing that America’s allies had long taken advantage of the United States to keep them secure. In 2014, the NATO allies set a target of spending 2% of GDP on defense by 2024. While more and more members are meeting that goal (23 as of this year), a number of them still fall short. (Stoltenberg noted in February 2024 that for the first time, NATO’s European members will collectively spend 2% of their combined GDP on defense compared to just 1.47% of their combined GDP 10 years ago.)

Still, NATO not only survived its Cold War internal challenges but also the geopolitical challenge of the end of the Cold War itself. Despite the many subsequent changes in the international security and economic environments, presidents—including Trump—have maintained the U.S. commitment to NATO. And despite the Republican Party’s dramatically increased isolationism and warmer attitudes toward Russia—thanks largely to Trump—congressional support for NATO remains strong, as illustrated by the overwhelming vote to admit Finland and Sweden, with 95 senators voting in favor.

Why NATO endures

NATO’s staying power is a break with U.S. foreign policy tradition. In his Farewell Address in 1796, President George Washington urged his fellow Americans to avoid “permanent alliances.” Many commentators have argued that NATO has long outlived its usefulness and that Europeans are overly reliant on a United States that is itself too quick to reach for military tools in general.

Why has this commitment not only endured but also expanded? In the United States, NATO appeals to different groups for different reasons, giving it significant support in different corners of Congress. Some see NATO as part of the liberal international order that protects the norms and values of democracies—and indeed, Biden has framed NATO as an alliance of democracies confronting the authoritarian threat from Putin’s Russia and a rising China. Others take a more realist view, noting the substantial capabilities NATO member countries bring to the alliance (an argument Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell stressed in support of Finnish and Swedish accession). NATO supporters also point to the need to protect Europe as a major U.S. trading partner against Russia and China’s economic threats.

Election 2024: Why this time could be different

Given America’s pro-NATO constituency and Congress’ role in the alliance from the beginning, could the next president of the United States withdraw the country from NATO despite last year’s legislation requiring Congress to have a role in such a move?

Presidents have become less and less constrained over time in the conduct of foreign policy. From World War II to the 1990s, Congress was a significant repository of foreign policy expertise; it is dramatically less so today. While congressional oversight and position-taking on foreign policy has always had a healthy dose of partisan and electoral politics, polarization has meant that opposition members of Congress reflexively oppose the White House. As a result, Congress conducts less oversight, bargains less frequently over policy, and is much less effective as a check on presidential authority.

A president disposed to undermine NATO could take many diplomatic and military actions unilaterally that would harm—perhaps even paralyze—the alliance. At the diplomatic level, for example, the president could decide not to appoint an ambassador to NATO. Additionally, the president could decide not to send his secretaries of state and defense and other officials to meetings of NATO defense ministers and foreign ministers or working-level meetings where much of NATO’s business gets done. Congress could haul administration officials in for questioning, but it has lost much of its inclination and capacity to conduct oversight of foreign policy in recent decades.

The president could take even more significant actions as commander in chief. For example, the president could withdraw U.S. military assets and military personnel, defanging the U.S. commitment even if it remained on the books. The president could decide not to appoint the supreme allied commander of NATO, who is based in Europe but historically has always been an American. And the president could determine (and declare) that if a NATO member state were attacked, the United States would not necessarily invoke or abide by its commitment to Article 5 to come to that country’s aid. Indeed, Trump has already said as much on several occasions. Most recently, he said at a 2024 campaign rally that he would encourage the Russians to “do whatever the hell they want” to NATO countries that do not meet their spending commitments.

This is not an exhaustive list. And even if an anti-NATO presidential effort is not entirely successful, such efforts might stir more intra-European uncertainty or antagonism, at a time when many European governments are facing domestic challenges from the far right.

In short, a president doesn’t have to formally withdraw from NATO to undermine the alliance.

NATO is on the ballot

Since February 24, 2022, Biden has led the NATO response to support Ukraine in the face of Russia’s full-scale invasion and the largest land war in Europe since 1945. Although Trump-allied GOP members in the House of Representatives delayed funding for Ukraine in 2024, ultimately, bipartisan support for Ukraine prevailed. But there are serious doubts about whether Trump would continue that response if elected president, based on his past statements supporting Putin and questioning NATO.

Additionally, many internationalist Republican members of Congress are retiring or stepping down from leadership positions—including McConnell, who is stepping down this fall as the Senate Republican leader. NATO does not seem at risk of losing significant congressional support, but the delayed Ukraine aid illustrated how few members it takes to hold up congressional action. Politically, NATO’s path will not be smooth sailing even if Biden wins reelection.

So, while congressional legislation is an important sign of bipartisan support for NATO, if the president decides that American involvement in NATO no longer serves the country’s interests, the alliance would have to somehow forge ahead without being able to rely on its most important member state. The current war in Ukraine has highlighted how dependent Europe still is on the United States for its national security. Even if the Europeans devoted more of their resources and energy to building stronger defense capabilities—as presidents from both parties have long exhorted them to do—it will take years if not decades to develop sufficient capacity.

NATO’s relevance and the degree and manner of burden-sharing remain worthy topics of debate. But the Trump-Biden 2024 rematch represents a distinct threat to the alliance given how much power the winner will have and how much Trump has learned about implementing his preferred policies since his first term. Although Congress has clearly expressed its view that the best way to keep the Russians out is to keep the Americans in, there may be little Congress can do if Trump opts for an abrupt, de facto U.S. exit from NATO.

[consularmain]

Alliance Commander Ask Game

THE WAY I SCREAMED WHEN I FOUND THIS IN MY DRAFTS. I was tagged a very long time ago by @sullustangin to do this and I completely forgot

1) Who’s your Alliance Commander? What class are they? Alignment? Random other facts you wanna share?

My Jedi Knight is my canonical Commander for my legacy. Her name is Minerva and she’s been through a lot of changes since I started playing her in 2018. She is a Guardian tank with a Shadow secondary class. She’s trapped at Light 5 because of how the old alignment system worked, but I headcanon she’s closer to Light Three. She has one of the most detailed backstories I've ever made for a character and I'm so proud of her :') She's like my child lol

2) What’s a reason or two you like that this character is your Commander? Minerva is not and never wanted to be a leader in any way and I live for that kind of inner conflict. Plus the expansions feel very natural with the Knight as the Commander imo.

3) What’s a reason or two you don’t like about them being Commander? I can’t think of anything other than I wish the writers would let her get some rest. Give me a cutscene where she's just enjoying being with her friends and boyfriend pls

4) Why did this character of all your OCs become Commander? Like I said earlier, it felt natural for Minerva to continue her fight against Vitiate and she was also the first character I got to endgame before Onslaught came out so she's just fixed as the Commander in my mind.

5) Who did they side with? Did they stay loyal or go saboteur? Or maybe you headcanon they defect properly? Minerva decided to side with the Republic, but she kept the Alliance separate and declined the offer to become a member of the Order again. She believes in the Republic but she hasn’t been a Jedi for a long time – even before she was put in the carbonite. And it would be incredibly inappropriate given a new “attachment” in her life. 

6) Are there any NPC’s from the class stories you’d like to see/HC join the Alliance? Ex: Master Timmns, Ardun Kothe, Watcher One, etc. Lord. PRAVEN. In my hc, he was on Ossus during kotfe/kotet and joins the Alliance after Onslaught. He's Minerva's bestie and the writers can't take this away from me.

7) How’s your OC feeling about the current Malgus situation? She's over it, honestly. She is so tired of people coming back from the dead.

8) Are any of your other OC’s part of the Alliance? If yes what do they do for the Alliance? Do they get along with your Commander?

My Chiss trooper, Jame Harper, is Minerva's cousin but they're closer to sisters. Harper had given up hope she was still alive and attacked Zakuul to avenge her. Once she joins the Alliance, Harper is responsible for training new recruits and strategizing for the big battles.

After the incident on Dromund Kaas, Acina sent her Wrath to Odessen to show the Empire’s support. Tegan and Minerva’s old rivalry picked up right where it left off but now that they're on the same side, they actually start to respect each other. They become frenemies but it doesn't last long.

Freya and her Clan join Torian on Odessen and are responsible for keeping the peace between Imperial and Republic personnel. Freya knows Minerva doesn't have much family so she takes on an almost motherly role, fussing over her and making sure she takes care of herself.

My Smuggler, Lyall, is Minerva's eyes and ears in the Outer Rim. He's a friend to the Alliance, not an actual member, but he appreciates what they're trying to do. He and Minerva share a history so it's no big deal for him to help out on the occasional mission.

9) How does your OC feel about Odessen? (Bonus: how do you feel about it) Despite all the craziness around her, Minerva feels at peace on Odessen - something she's not felt in a long time. She loves the wild forests and the endless lakes and rivers. It feels like home. She's never felt that way about anywhere before, not even the Jedi Order. I personally love Odessen. I wish there was a stronghold on Odessen so I could decorate it to Minerva's tastes.

10) How does your Commander feel about being the Commander? To say Minerva has a complicated relationship with it would be an understatement. Some days, it's great. She's doing more for the galaxy than she ever could as a Jedi. But sometimes she realizes just how many lives will be effected by her decisions and she feels trapped. She doesn’t feel anyone should ever have so much power. But she's lucky to have such a strong support system behind her and they make it bearable.

11) Favorite place in the Alliance base? Minerva's favorite is the little pool at the base of the statue in the Force Enclave. She meditates for hours in the sunlight coming in through the crack in the ceiling. As for mine, it has to be the war room. I love seeing my companions just vibing with each other.

12) Favorite mission in KotFE? Definitely visiting the old world on Zakuul with Senya. I wish we got to see more of it or at least get a Zakuulan stronghold but I doubt the story will ever bring us back to Zakuul :(

13) Favorite mission in KotET? The palace mission, just because it's where we get Arcann lmao

14) Least favorite mission in either? Why? The walker missions are brutal. Except for the one on Iokath. That one is so much fun lol

15) Is your Commander successful because they’re skilled? Or are they perhaps just really lucky? Minerva has worked hard to hone her body and mind into a weapon, but she also believes the Force is on her side as long as she listens to it. To her, luck doesn't exist.

16) From our OC’s point of view, SoR -> KotET wasn’t a fun experience, did they develop any fears as a result? A lot of her fears were realized. She was abandoned by the people she trusted and the Jedi Order, the only constant in her life, was practically wiped out. Valkorion was once again in her head and the fear of him taking over at any given moment made her distance herself from the people around her in order to protect them. It was the loneliest period of her life. 

She also has a fear of public speaking so she hates it when she has to give speeches to encourage people.

17) AU time! If your Commander wasn’t Commander, which of your other OCs would have likely taken their place? Harper has a habit of falling into positions of leadership despite her loner attitude. I can see her somehow accidentally becoming Commander in Minerva's place because no one else stepped up.

18) Who’s someone your Commander hopes they never have to deal with again?

19) Does your Commander hold on to/still use any titles they earned before KotET? Minerva's begun to let go of her old life but she doesn't mind being called "Master" or "Battlemaster" by other Jedi. She earned those titles so it's a sign of respect for her.

20) Share something, anything at all, you want about your Commander that you’ve not really gotten the chance to share before but really want to. Minerva loves trashy entertainment. Holovids, shows, books - it doesn't matter, she loves it all. It's antithesis to everything she was used to growing up that she found it so compelling. She's also a sucker for those romance books you see in line at the grocery store.