#the second half is better than the first which is typical. anyway i found out actual edits are more difficult than little ho edits

[ninjasmudge]

undefined

started off as a joke bc hes a lion and then concocted a whole narrative in my head so. oops this is no longer a joke.

i think the second half is way better than the first bc im figuring stuff out as i go, and this is platonic i just like all these mfs a lot 🎺

[kamaluhkhan]

anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner. 

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank. 

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it. 

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations. 

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined." 

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition. 

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes. 

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were. 

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze. 

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

[splatashahowlett]

lethargic love

logan howlett x reader

the world has never been as quiet as in this exact moment.

you could hear your own breathing, your nose softly whistling. the soft sheets felt divine against your legs and the light breeze coming out the window tickled your face in the most relaxing way possible. the only thing that was lacking was your typical morning headache.

in the hope that this moment would never end, you kept yourself from moving, even the slightest. the truth was that even if you wanted to, you couldn't. logan's arms were wrapped around you and there was no escaping from those muscles.

logan and you had decided that you both deserved a weekend away from the chaos of xavier's school for gifted youngsters. you loved life back there and the kids were one of the reasons you felt fulfilled and happy today. but life at the mansion can sometimes become a bit overwhelming. so when logan came up with the idea of getting away from it you immediatly agreed.

that's how you ended up in the canadian mountains, in a small cabin probably older than the professor.

still with the purpose of not moving from an inch, you felt immediate disappointement when you started to feel hungry. so after a few moments contemplating if being half-starved was a good enough reason to get up, you came to the conclusion that you could make breakfast for when logan would wake up.

but when you tried to get up, you felt a strong kind of resistance around your waist. logan wouldn't let you go. at first you didn't want to wake him up, so you tried to slowly untangle his arms from your body. but it's when you felt him tightening his grip on you that you realized he was definitely awake.

"logan" you muttered his name softly; the only answer you got was a disapproving groan letting you know he didn't want you to get up. this made you smile fondly, knowing that he felt comfortable with you and wasn't willing on letting you go under any circumstances. you turned around, and found yourself only inches away from his face. his eyes were closed and eyebrows relaxed -which was unusual- so you enjoyed the view and explored every captivating peculiarity about him.

in the beginning of your relationship you would ask yourself everyday what you did to deserve someone like him in your life. but you came to the conclusion that you both chose each others for good reasons and that was an enough of an explanation.

you tried a second time to get yourself out of harms way but of course, you were still stuck in your own personal heaven.

"what could possibly be better then spending the morning in bed?" logan whined. you weren't used to staying in bed back at the mansion, it wasn't really a possibilty, so the idea was particularly attraying. you chuckled at his comment and kissed his forehead.

"good morning to you too" you said with a wide smile. without opening his eyes he nestled his face into your collarbone and tightened his grip around you again (if that was even possible).

"stay" logan said in a way that almost made your heart break. you could never get used to seeing him so susceptible and unveiled. so you stayed.

"I wasn't planning on leaving anyway" you whispered while gently scratching his head which was entrenched under your chin. you couldn't really wrap your mind around how love worked but you knew it did. and you weren't ready to give up on it; ever.

so you closed your eyes and sweared to whoever could hear you that you would never leave logan's side, even if it meant fighting his cimmerian battles with him.

"I love you."

those words were also a thing you would never get used to.

[nyxronomicon]

chapter iv: zen'in

toji x reader (she/her. tits & vagina)

cw: child neglect, fuckboy Toji, gambling, alcohol, no curses au, found family, DILF Toji, Toji is motivated by sex, anger issues, graphic depiction of murder (stabbing), cigarettes

masterlist

You: I talked to Shiu. I just feel you're lying to me. Maybe we should just be friends. I still want to be there for Megumi.

There it was. Toji was waiting for this. It was inevitable. He didn't even know why he tried. The second you met Megumi, it opened Pandora's box of Toji's shitty life. At least you weren't really involved. Cutting ties wouldn't be necessary. Still, it stung to be rejected like this. But it was his own damn fault for flirting with the neighbor girl.

He couldn't really focus on that right now, anyway. He was busy. After hanging up with Shiu, Toji turned off his phone, shoving it into his pocket. He wouldn't need it. If anything, it would be a distraction. With a sigh, Toji entered the Zen'in clan headquarters.

"Toji." Naoya greeted him. "Took you long enough to get here."

"Fuck off." Toji hissed. "I'm in a bad mood. Where's Naobito? Wanna get this over with."

"What, you think you're just gonna waltz in here and get an audience with the Oyabun?" Naoya's patience always wore thin when it came to him.

"I'm not your fuckin' aniki anymore." Toji trudged forward into the base. "I'm here for a job. That's it. Kong told me Naobito asked for me specifically."

"Ain't you special?" Naoya grabbed his elbow, stopping him in his tracks.

"You looking to get punched?" Toji stopped, ripping his arm from Naoya's grasp. He grabbed Naoya's shirt, yanking him forward in a show of strength. "I'm just itching to give someone a black eye."

"Save it." He rolled his eyes, nearly unphased by Toji's gesture. This wasn't the first time he had threatened Naoya. "You wanna get beaten half to death by the rest of the family?" He shrugged, the meandering yakuza in the main room watching the scene.

Maybe I do. Maybe I deserve it. Toji thought to himself before begrudgingly dropping Naoya. He was here for a hit, after all. He'd get his chance to get a little bloody.

"I'll tell Jinichi you're here." Naoya pointed at some chairs. "Chill out for a minute, and try to get in a better mood, jackass." He rolled his eyes, disappearing into the corridor.

"You better not keep me waiting." Toji sneered at the man, turning to the small waiting area.

While he waited, Toji inspected his surroundings. He'd been here hundreds of times before when he was still in the family, but it had been a while since his last visit. Nothing had really changed. It had decor typical for a yakuza stronghold, black leather chairs which he now sat in. Miscellaneous potted plants growing despite the dismal natural light. The scent of cigars hung in the air. Specifically, Naobito's favorite brand.

He eyed the loitering yakuza. Most of them were young, probably barely been in a fight before. They were watching him with interest- he was a Zen'in legend and had the scars to tell them he'd seen more than his share of altercations. They called him the man who left it all behind.

It wasn't long before Jinichi came out from the same corridor Naoya had disappeared into.

"It's been a while, Toji." The grizzled man didn't have many expressions, a faint fondness in his eyes was the only tell that the two men knew each other to an outside observer.

"How's it been? Looks the same as ever." Toji smirked.

"Not like the good ol' days, that's for sure," a slight chuckle escaped the man's lips.

"Probably a good thing." Toji chuckled with him.

"C'mon. Oya-san's waiting." Jinichi nodded his head toward the room where they usually received guests, another reminder to Toji that he didn't belong here anymore. Toji stood, following his lead, though he didn't need the guidance. "Sorry we can't chat. You can probably guess why."

"Yeah. That's what I get." Toji shrugged.

"Any regrets?" Jinichi turned a corner in the halls. It was intentionally confusing to get there for outsiders. Though, the maze-like route was already familiar to Toji.

"That your idea of small talk?" Toji raised a brow, glancing at him.

"Just curious." The man shrugged. He never was very tactful with his words- and the scars he proudly wore were proof of his lack of brain cells.

There was a long pause. They rounded the final hallway when Toji sighed. "Yeah. But that's my problem, onii-chan."

Jinichi paused at the door. "I hope it doesn't weigh too heavy on you, onii-san." Though unnecessary, the exchange of familiarities made Toji feel better. At least, it was nice to think that at least one guy in this place might hesitate to kill him.

They walked in, Jinichi bowing at the boss with respect. Toji's bow was half-assed, more of a formality than anything. They both knew that, but Toji respected the authority of the Oyabun and didn't want to ruffle the feathers of the lieutenants in the room.

It was just Naobito and a couple of his closest confidants. Jinichi also stayed in the room, though the additional men were just for show. This was a conversation between Naobito and Toji.

"It's been a while, Fushiguro." Naobito spoke.

"First time you ever called me that." Toji smirked.

"Don't get cocky." He frowned. "You gave up your Zen'in name. Disgraced the family. Far as I'm concerned, you were never a Zen'in to begin with."

"Maybe you'll extend that courtesy to my son." Toji's smile disappeared, an icy intensity thick in the air.

Naobito chuckled humorlessly. "You know the price if you want him out."

"You say I gave up the name and disgraced the family," Toji stepped closer, "yet you still won't let my five-year-old son out because you want me back?"

"That was the price." Naobito snarled. "That alliance, that arranged marriage, it was all for nothing if not Megumi. He's the heir to the Zen'in clan. You want him out? You gotta do the job yourself." Naobito smirked, taking a puff of his cigar. "Or make us another."

"Fuck off." Toji hissed.

"I heard about a girl." The man was tactfully getting under Toji's skin.

"And?" He attempted to shrug it off, but this was a very sensitive topic for Toji at the moment. Naobito knew him well enough to see his patience wore thin.

"I haven't met her." He cocked his head.

"You won't. Don't worry."

Naobito sighed with a click of his tongue. "I can't have a complete stranger looking after the kid. It's bad enough that you're his primary guardian."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Toji frowned.

"I know you haven't been training him, as was part of the arrangement." Naobito puffed on his cigar. The clove scent quickly filled the room. He nodded to his lieutenants, signaling he wanted them to leave. "Let's talk in private, hm?"

The men bowed and filed out of the room, leaving Toji and Naobito alone.

"What do you want?" Toji sighed.

"I want you to hold up your side of the agreement, Fushiguro." He tapped the ashes off into a nearby ashtray. "You are to train the boy until he's sixteen, ten years. Then he'll join the ranks."

"Eleven-"

"His birthday was last month. He's six." Naobito brought the cigar back to his lips. "Did you miss our card? there was some money for the boy. Unless you gambled it all away again."

Toji frowned. Though, between the drinking and gambling and the sheer lack of time he actually spent with the kid, he must have forgotten the runt's birthday. He knew in a general sense it was in December, but he let the whole month pass by and it didn't cross his mind.

"I don't care what you did with the card, or the money, for that matter." Naobito puffed at his cigar again. "I want you to train the kid. I need a killer. That was the agreement."

"He's just a kid." Toji's words were hollow. He'd already agreed to make Megumi into a killer.

"Just a kid?" Naobito leaned forward, a frown on his face. "You're the one who made the offer. You're the one who sold him to us. The least you could do is prepare him for this lifestyle." He leaned back in his chair, holding the cigar between his lips. The thick smoke was making Toji want a cigarette.

The slightest pang of guilt hit Toji. In trying to escape the Yakuza himself, he'd condemned his own son to the life he so desperately clawed himself out of. Being born a Zen'in might as well be a curse, and even though Megumi never shared the family name, the lineage was enough.

"You mind?" Toji pulled out his pack of cigarettes and Naobito nodded, allowing him to smoke as well. He slid a cig out of the box, taking his time lighting it as the silence between the two men became deafening.

Toji sat in the chair furthest away from Naobito. The old man was right, a promise was a promise. He got paid for the arranged marriage; he got paid for having a son; and he got paid to take care of him.

"Don't think training him was in the contract." Toji took a drag of the cigarette. "How about a gentleman's agreement?"

"You're asking for more?" The man raised a brow.

"Hands off the girl. I don't want any of this coming back to her." Smoke flowed out of his mouth as he spoke. "Megumi likes her. Consider her the kid's mother."

"You gonna get that on paper?" Naobito smirked.

"Fuck no. Not after what you did," Toji hissed. "Besides, since I'm no longer a Zen'in, it's not really your business if I do."

"And your wife?" He puffed the cigar. "The one you never divorced?"

"Christ, you too?" He sighed.

"You want me to enter a gentleman's agreement? Fine, I'll leave your plaything alone." Naobito sighed. "But I need to guarantee that's not coming back to fuck up the alliance I delicately pieced back together after your rough handling. Divorce Miss Fushiguro and train the kid. Those are my terms."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Toji took another drag.

"I don't know what sanctuary you think your ex can offer Megumi, but even she knows that kid is ours. There's a reason she left him with you." The man set his half-smoked cigar in the ashtray, leaning forward. "His fate is sealed, Toji. And she's sure as hell not coming back for you."

Toji looked at the ceiling, the cigarette hanging from his lips. "Didn't have to tell me that." He paused. "Fine. I accept your terms."

"Good." Naobito picked up his cigar again. There was a short silence as both men stewed in mild annoyance. The sooner this meeting was over, the better.

"You had a job?" Toji moved the conversation along.

"Just another hit." He puffed his cigar and filled Toji in on all the details.

-

The next day...

Toji stuck to the shadows, following his target at a distance through the large casino. He half-gambled a table away, watching him instead of his cards. The man was covered in scars with long grey hair sectioned into ponytails. Though, despite his hair color, the man seemed young.

Naobito had mentioned they were feuding with a religious group. That this hit was a scare tactic. The underworld collectively agreed, actually, and several Yakuza families contributed to Toji's fee. He was the chosen hitman because he was unaffiliated. Or at least, in the ways it was important.

Maybe it was just that Naobito cared for Toji so little that he didn't mind sending him to the dogs like this. No matter. This was the only thing Toji was good at, killing and not getting caught.

He followed his target into the high limit room, sitting at the bar with a drink while watching his  every move from the corner of his eye. At 11:23pm, the man excused himself from his buddies. This was the opening detailed in the Zen'in Clan report. As the evening progressed, he always excused himself to sneak onto the rooftop for a cigarette.

Toji smirked, finding the backroom staircase he'd scouted earlier in the day to follow the man. In minutes, he stalked his prey, hiding behind the large whirring air conditioners on the roof.

He watched as the man lit his cigarette. Almost made Toji want one. He'd swipe the pack after he killed the guy. Gripping his dagger, he silently appeared behind the man.

"Hey there, Patchface ." Toji chuckled. The man dropped his cigarette, but before he could turn to face his killer, a dagger plunged through the back of his chest, right through his heart.

"Who..." The man coughed up blood as Toji removed the dagger, pushing him to the ground.

"Who?" He grinned. "Just call me the Grim Reaper." He plunged the dagger into his prey repeatedly, hitting his throat, each lung, and his stomach.

As the man struggled to breathe, bleeding out on the rooftop, Toji picked up the box of cigarettes & lighter that had tumbled from his pocket. The box was stained with blood, but the cigs inside were fine.

"Mind if I bum one?" He asked rhetorically. "Been craving it since we came up here." He pulled one out, lighting it as he noticed the blood splattered up his arm. He was unphased by the man dying next to him, instead frowning at the mess he made. Good thing Toji always wore black to jobs like this.

"W-Why..." sputtered from the man's lips.

"You'll have to ask yourself that." Toji took a long drag of the cigarette. "I'm just here to get paid."

The man coughed and wheezed for a bit longer, finally breathing his last breath in the pool of his own blood.

The rooftop was quiet. Peaceful. Toji understood the appeal of coming up here now. Maybe he'd return the next time luck wasn't on his side.

As he finished the cigarette, thoughts of you involuntarily entered his mind. You were supposed to make dinner for Shiu and Megumi tonight. He checked his watch; it was just before midnight. He wondered if you were still in his apartment. He couldn't control the wave of adrenaline-fueled jealousy at the thought of you spending so many hours with Shiu.

Maybe Shiu was right. Maybe he should let you in. But all Toji ever wanted was an escape, and involving you would only drag you into his world with him.

Toji dropped the cigarette in the pool of blood, causing the embers to fizzle out. You deserved better than an ex-yakuza who sold his only son for his own freedom.

[mbgcreates]

Under the Mistletoe

Word count: 1481

A/N: You know what, sure, I'll put this one here. Also, THIS WON'T BE SITTING FOR ANOTHER YEAR!! This was started about two years ago, and I only just finished it 😅 enjoy! Remember, reblogs > likes! Thank you!

Dark is…nervous.

It's been a long time since he's felt this way; the closest he can recall is when Wilford gets overly trigger-happy at the worst of times and jeopardizes his plans, or when the man has one of his memory spells. But this…

Dark glances at the mistletoe hanging from the doorframe of his office, visible only from the inside. It’s been… Well, in another lifetime, he had attempted this tradition before and succeeded a few times, although he was much more nervous then than he is currently. Besides, times have changed. He’s a different man, now. One that he thought wasn’t so capable of something like “nervousness.” Do you even like him enough that this will work—

Nonetheless, he requested some time ago that you come to his office at your earliest convenience. He knows you won’t ignore it, because he hardly ever invites you there. If he does, it must be important. As this is. As you are.

He cannot focus on his paperwork in the interim. Instead of a refuge, it feels like an overwhelming mountain, stretching up almost indefinitely. He's not even sure why he has so much of it, a creature of the void as he is, but somehow, Wilford’s very existence comes with paperwork. The other egos cause headaches, but typically not paperwork. Not often, anyway.

And you. Somehow, you’ve managed to fit in with the craziness that is this revolving door of oddballs. It took time, but you’ve carved out your own niche, and the more aggressive of the bunch eventually stopped antagonizing you. Wilford, as was his wont, took you “under his wing,” which largely meant you’d run around doing increasingly inane errands until Dark had to step in. You weren’t built for that, after all. It was the first time he saw anything that wasn’t (fear) concern in your eyes when looking at him.

Dark sighs and shuffles some papers around. The dark wood of his desk pokes through, matched by the dreary wallpaper, black bookshelves with equally desaturated books, and dark wood flooring. It's like it's bearing down on him, suffocating him in his anxiousness instead of being a comfort. After the day he stepped in, you slowly began to spend a bit more time with him around the manor, and he found himself missing your presence on some days when you weren’t around.

Your footsteps announce your arrival far in advance, his supernatural hearing better than a human’s, and he actually has to take a deep breath to calm himself. In all honesty, the nerves wouldn't be that bad, but for him? Anything more than a little is too much.

He had discovered by way of accidentally overhearing that, despite appearances, you enjoyed the little things, especially the little romantic things. It was strange, to consider such concepts after so long, to let the idea germinate in his mind until an idea bloomed. An idea that he is still second-guessing until this very moment. He pretends to keep working until you rap on the door frame. "Dark? You asked to see me?"

"Ah, you're here." He shuffles the papers again, this time into a neat stack, acting as if everything is normal and you didn’t somehow borderline startle him. “I almost believed you wouldn’t show.”

You both know he said this on purpose; just another jab he can’t help but say. A deflection, now, habitual and not fully meant. You huff half-heartedly. “As if I wouldn’t. Can I come in?”

“Not quite yet.” He knows the anxiousness isn't evident (you’ve never seemed to notice before), but his reply is still rather quick. “We can have a discussion with you over there.”

You roll your eyes. Dark doesn't notice, too caught up in not looking at you. “Sure, real personal discussion. What even did you want to talk with me about?”

“You have been living here for quite some time now, and it looks like you will be here for quite some time longer.” His desk is tidied much too soon for his liking. “I take it everything is still satisfactory?”

“Well, yeah, I suppose so,” you reply, obviously confused. “Wilford is still…Wilford.”

“That he is. And that he will continue to be.” He’s forced to finally look up, and seeing you underneath the mistletoe is like something out of a dream: unreal. Too good to be true. Dark makes himself stand up, palms pressed firmly against the desk as if to steady himself. “If you have more trouble with him, or with anyone else, you know where to find me.”

“Oh, okay, thanks…?”

“I do think Wilford isn’t fully utilizing your talents, but he doesn’t always listen to me.” Dark finds his feet taking him forward, towards you.

“Really? You think so?” There’s a tinge of surprise in your voice, but it’s a good surprise. You didn’t think he would notice, he suspects.

“Yes. And with the days you spend in my office, we could figure out some way to harness and hone them. Maybe then, he’ll listen.”

“I mean, is it really a good idea to get in his way?”

The corner of Dark’s mouth twitches as he stops in front of you. You’re so…short, compared to him. “Well, of all people, I would be the best candidate.”

Amusement flickers into your eyes, and it makes you look that much lovelier. “I suppose you’re right. But still…”

“My dear, I think you should…aim higher. Look higher.” When you just blink at him, not picking up on his odd hint, he points upwards, towards the lintel. Your brows twitch in confusion, but you follow where he points. Your eyes catch the sprig of mistletoe, and he watches your expression as the gears turn in your mind, everything clicking into place. You look back at him in disbelief, and whether you’re aware of it or not, your cheeks are tinged with the beginnings of a blush. It makes him want to do this even more. Still, the words are not easy to say, tongue heavy in his mouth. “May I?”

You nod almost dumbly after a moment, and he brings his hand up to cup your face. It is of immense relief that you don’t recoil. If his heart still worked, it would be beating out of his chest. As it is, he can hear yours doing exactly that. It picks up as he closes the gap between you.

Dark brushes his lips against yours, the barest of touches, almost as if he's asking for permission again. When you don't pull away, he kisses you properly, surprisingly soft and chaste. (You didn't think he had it in him.) It’s over far too soon, and when he pulls back, your eyes flutter open to find him studying you. The moment is delicate, just the sound of your breathing as his eyes search yours and time seems to stretch into infinity. 

All you do is lean forward a little, and you seem to fall into each other, his lips meeting yours again, this time with a bit of urgency. You, instead of retreating, accept it, pressing towards him and tentatively lifting your own hand to his cheek. The reassurance flooding Dark is immediate, prompting him to bring your body closer to him. You inhale sharply in surprise, but again don’t move away, relaxing in his embrace. 

Despite the kissing lasting longer than expected, you removing your lips from his still happens much too quickly. Your face is fully flushed, now; he wonders if his cheeks convey the same.

Your voice is soft; one might call it breathless. “You had the discussion…just for that?”

“Well, I had to get you here somehow.” There’s a ghost of a toothy grin for a moment, before his face softens—actually softens, if but a little. “And I meant everything I said.”

Your eyes dart away, sheepish. “Oh…thanks…”

“How do you feel about dinner?”

Those were not words Dark expected out of his mouth, and nor did you, by the way your head whips back up toward him. “Dinner? We eat dinner at the manor all the time.”

“You know what I meant.” A genuine, small smile graces his face. “Just you and me.”

“Y-yeah.” You bite at your lip; he hears your heart rate jump up again. “That sounds…great. When?”

“Tonight, as long as everything goes according to plan.”

You give a small nod, then nod again, more definitively. “Yeah. Sounds good to me.”

“Splendid.” Dark kisses your forehead, then releases you. His arms already feel empty without you there. “I will come get you when everything is ready. I’ll see you later, darling.”

Darling. Something else that just slipped out. But it feels…right, to borrow that from the past. And, with the way you look at him after it, eyes shining with something he cannot yet fully place, perhaps he will keep calling you “darling.” And, maybe soon, his darling.

[dannystattoo]

I Like Shiny Things but I'd Marry You With Paper Rings

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Female Reader

Warnings: None

We love a drunk Vegas Wedding 🥰

“This might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever suggested,” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend as you stumbled through the streets of Vegas, both more than a little intoxicated.

“Did you say no?” Danny asked you, lacing his fingers between yours and swinging your arms. 

“Well…no” you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling as you approached the gaudy Elvis themed chapel you’d found on Yelp. 

“What’s so funny?” You were both laughing now. 

“We’re gonna be such a cliche, oh my god,” the words came out slightly slurred. “We got drunk and ran away from our friends to get married in Vegas?” 

“We didn’t run away from them, they wanted to go back to the hotel. They’re kinda boring, aren’t they?”

“Probably smarter than us. The drive to the show tomorrow is gonna fucking suck.”

“As long as I’m good to perform tomorrow and you’re good to come and watch,” Danny shrugged. 

“Can I pass out on you in the bus tomorrow then?” 

“Of course”

“Perfect. So…are we doing this?” You’d been standing outside the chapel for a few minutes now and had yet to go in.

“Ready if you are, babe” 

“Danny we…we fucked up” you slurred slightly.

“What’dyou mean, honey?”

“We need witnesses, our friends left” 

“Shit. Ok, what if we just grab a couple people, I’m sure we can convince someone into witnessing a wedding in Vegas.” Danny, being the charismatic motherfucker he was, found a couple who was more than willing to follow you into he chapel and witness the ceremony. You promised them you’d be in and out as quick as you could, knowing you only needed a couple minutes.

As you both spoke with the Elvis impersonator out front, you took a minute to thank your past self for choosing something cute to wear tonight. It wasn’t a white wedding dress (not that you’d wanted a white one anyway), but you had chosen a flowy black romper that you thought fit the part well enough. Danny had worn his typical outfit for nights out, jeans and a button-up shirt (which was currently about half unbuttoned), but he could have worn anything and looked perfect to you. 

“Whatever service gets us out of here quickest. We promised these fine people we wouldn’t keep them for more than a few minutes.” 

You followed the Elvis-minister back into the chapel, which was as tacky as you’d expected. 

“So will you be doing your own vows, or would you like the traditional ones?”

“Ummm, traditional I guess, seeing as we don’t write any?”

“We’ll do our own,” Danny said at the same time.  

“What, babe, do you have secret vows written or something?”

“No, but you’re absolutely not vowing to honor and obey me.” You nodded, not really able to argue with that point. You remembered when the topic of marriage had come up previously, you’d mentioned how much you hated traditional, antiquated vows and insisted you needed to write your own. 

“You first, then” 

“Ok,” Danny sat for a second, tongue dancing across his lips as he thought. You were about to give him shit for being so confident about pulling vows out of his ass, but you thought better of it. 

“I’m not gonna come up with anything groundbreaking, but y/n, when I tell you meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me. I promise you’re stuck with me forever, I’m not going anywhere. I’m always gonna support you in the same way you have for me with music, no matter what. I promise we’ll go to so many concerts togther, I’m gonna take you all over the world - some day, I swear I’ll be touring and you can just travel all over with me…if you want, that is. I promise I’ll always try to be home on Halloween, I have to spend your favorite day with you, I could keep going, but really I'm just gonna do everything to give you the best life I can. I love you so much, y/n” 

Maybe it was the alcohol, as you weren’t usually an emotional person, but you caught tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. God, you didn’t know what you’d done to deserve someone like Danny.

“Well now I’m crying, you asshole,” you laughed. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to top that. I love you.” You suddenly realized you were most certainly still tipsy and you couldn’t think of a single other thing to say. Holding Danny’s hands, you leaned forward into his chest and started giggling. 

“Danny, I wonder every single day what I did to deserve you because you’re too good for me. I promise to you’re stuck with me forever too, through literally anything. I’m always going to your band’s biggest supporter, I’ll never get mad at you for having to spend time in the studio or on the road, and I’ll be at every single one of your shows I possibly can. I’ll always watch your sports with you, even if I don’t always know what’s going on. I might even consider learning how to golf so I can do more than sit in the cart and look cute. I'll be up for any new adventure, and we’re gonna live life to the fullest, I promise. I don’t have words for how much I love you, how much you mean to me, and I’m never gonna stop showing you that.”

The ceremony finished a few minutes later, with Danny quite literally sweeping you off your feet when he could finally kiss you. 

“Now what,” you asked once you’d left the chapel. It was the middle of the night, but being Vegas, you could have gone anywhere. 

“Back to the hotel?” Danny looked at you with a smirk. 

“Consumate the marriage?” you dished it right back. 

“Wait, babe, we need rings.”

“What?” you were so caught up in the moment you didn’t even process what he was talking about.

“We never got rings. We need rings. Well, actually, I have a ring for you when we get home, but we need ones now.”

“Baby, no we don’t, we can always get them later. We’re legal, we don’t need rings. I will need you to back up though, what do you mean there’s a ring at home?” 

“I was actually planning to propose to you sometime soon, I wasn’t exactly sure when, but I’ve known I wanted to marry you for a while. So there is a ring in my drawer, I just wasn’t sure when I wanted to do it. But then tonight I decided I didn’t wanna wait. I know I want to be with you forever, why put it off?” 

“Babe, what the fuck.” You were absolutely speechless hearing how much this man loved you. You grabbed his hand and nuzzled your face into his chest.

“We don’t need a ring, but we can get one somehwere if you want. You need one too. You know what, we can get them when we’re home, I think it would be fun to keep this our little secret for a while.” 

“You sure?”

“If you’re ok with that?” You immediately worried he thought you were ashamed that you’d eloped, or that you regretted it. 

“Oh yeah, if you are. We don’t need to tell anyone til we’re both ready. I know nobody was expecting us to get married, we weren’t even engaged.” 

You caught an Uber back to your hotel, you curling into Danny’s side the entire drive back. It was apparent you were sobering up, and the inevitable crash was coming. When you arrived at the hotel, Danny insisted on carrying you bridal style of to the room. You insisted right back that you could walk up, you were almost completely sober now, just exhausted, but he said it was part of the experience, there was no way he was going to make his bride walk up to the room herself. 

The whole ride up the elevator, you were both ready to start going at each other, but sadly, someone else got on with you all the way up to your room on the top floor. The second the door was closed and locked, Danny threw you on to the bed and you reached up to pull him on top of you. Just as he’d settled his knees between your legs and practically attached his mouth to your neck, his phone started buzzing on the other side of the room, a call clearly coming through. However, neither of you registered it. Not even a minute later, your phone started vibrating and the only reason you noticed it was because you’d forgotten it was still in your pocket. You reached down, but didn’t bother to see who it was, throwing it on the nightstand. At this point you heard Danny’s phone go off again, and you both realized at the same time someone was definitely trying to get a hold of you. 

“Go see who it is, make sure it’s not an emergancy.,” you sighed, letting go of his shirt you had been trying to finish unbuttoning. 

“Hey man, what’s up, is everything ok?…you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, I’m kinda busy…ok, ok, fine, I’ll be to your room in five, you owe me.”

“Who was that?” 

“Sam. Apparently he brought that girl he met earlier back to his room and the dumbass didn’t think to bring any condoms.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your mouth upon hearing this. 

“Go help him out, I’ll be here waiting, maybe get changed into something else for you.” 

“Don’t, I wanna take you out of that myself,” he called from the bathroom. “Ok, I’ll be right back. Keep that on, Mrs.Wagner.” 

“I love the sound of that, get your ass back here soon baby.”  Oh, that man was going to run to Sam’s room and back. 

Somehow, all of your rooms had gotten completely separated and Sam just happened to be multiple floors below you on the opposite side of the hotel, so it would probably be about ten minutes until Danny returned. Of course, the second he was gone, you were hit the same exhaustion you’d felt in the Uber and you decided to get comfortable for a few minutes. You’d wake up the second Danny was back, you knew it. Of course, you’d underestimated how tired you were and within minutes you’d passed out. 

“Babe, I’m back, sorry about the -“ Danny found you curled up in bed, arms wrapped around the pillow and fast asleep. He smiled to himself, taking in how adorable you looked and thinking about the fact that he was going to get to come to bed with you every night for the rest of your lives. He striped down to his boxers, not caring about putting on anything else.

“Babe….baby…y/n?” 

“Hmmm?” you answered, half concious. 

“Let’s get your PJs on, huh?”

“No, I’m good,” you said, rolling further into the bed.

“You sure? You couldn’t stop complaining about having to wear a strapless bra all night.”

“Fine, you’re right.” You slowly, begrudingly, sat up, and let him help you get your romper off and change into one of his t-shirts. 

“Not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to get you out of that,” Danny laughed. 

“Sorry,” you said, already feeling yourself falling asleep again.

“It’s ok, bug, we have literally our entire lives.” He laid down next to you, pulling you right against him. You curled up right against him, tangling your legs in his and tucking your head into his chest. 

“I’ve said it so much tonight, but I love you so much,” you said, slurring your words now to to sleepiness rather than drunkeness.

“I love you too, Mrs. Wagner…god, I’m never gonna get tired of saying that. 

“I’m never gonna get tired of hearing it.” That was the last thing you said before you fell asleep, happie than ever about your drunk, impulsive decisions. 

[the-mountain-flower]

It’s Mothers' Day where I live, so to celebrate I brought y’all some angst (I didn’t cry while writing this… not even a little… nope not me…) (Don’t worry, my mom got an actual gift lol)

Title: lyrics from the song “Lose You Now” by Lindsey Stirling and Mako

CW: family member death (flashbacks)

Falst didn't realize today was the Feast of Serenis, and misses his mom.

Falst didn’t usually keep track of the dates, but if he was near a town or city, it was usually obvious when it was a feast day. If possible, it was a good time to blend in among the crowds and grab some food at any public festivities.

That was the case when he snuck out of a city with a ragged cloak, a few foodstuffs in his pockets, and fighting tears from his eyes. He hadn’t realized it was the Feast of Serenis.

He’d been caught off guard by the focus of the festivities. Practically speaking, it meant he stood out more as a lone figure in a sea of people who surrounded themselves with friends and family. Which Falst had none of. He really, really wished he could hate it. Today always managed to make him feel so much more alone than usual.

But he couldn’t hate it, because his mother had loved this feast day.

Falst disappeared into a small forest near the city; one that gave just enough cover for him to hide in the trees, but it wasn’t large or dense enough for its own god so people rarely came, especially on days like today.

He climbed up a large, wide tree with sturdy branches and decent cover. It was where he’d been hiding out, until he was inevitably found and was driven away, just like everywhere else. It was one of the more uncomfortable places he’d stayed, but it suited his needs just fine.

He settled down on one of the top branches, and took from his pocket one of the foods he’d filched from a rich-looking merchant when they weren’t paying attention. It was a frosted bun, encased in a delicate wrapping that stuck to it a little and smeared the icing when Falst took it off, a side effect from being stuffed in his pocket with everything else. If he had the option, which he usually didn’t, Falst tried to go for heartier, more filling foods. Still, he had a fondness for sweets, and would never pass up the opportunity to grab something tasty. Plus, he needed something to make him feel better.

While he ate the bun, he was reminded the treats his mom had gotten on her last Feast of Serenis. Falst was still a young child back then and didn’t quite remember the details like he used to, but he desperately clung to what he did recall. Still a little overwhelmed by all of the activity from before, he didn’t have the mental energy to try and stop the memories… not that he wanted to.

He remembered his mom’s excitement at showing him the sweets she got for them from the market. His dad was out of town that day (typical of him to be gone for the Feast of Serenis), so it was just the two of them. He remembered practically stuffing his face with the sugary treats, and sitting in her lap as she read him a story from a childrens’ book. He couldn’t remember which story it was. Falst asked if she could draw something for him, and they ended up drawing each other. He wanted to remember what hers had looked like, but there was no chance he could find it, if it even existed anymore.

His finger hit a knot on the branch, and he realized one of his claws was scratching the tree bark. He looked down to see a half-finished depiction of the letters he’d found on his mom’s tombstone. He hadn’t fully realized he was doing it at first, but he finished the name anyway. It was rough and uneven on the bark, especially the first half since he hadn’t been paying attention, but it was clearly there.

That was another thing he wished he could remember: her name. He’d only known her as “Mom”, and for some reason, the only writing he had of it was this.

For the millionth time, he wondered why her tombstone had been marked with Ancient runes. He wondered bitterly if his dad did it on purpose, just so that Falst couldn’t know what it meant. It was so unlikely, but Falst was almost upset enough to entertain the idea.

Falst inhaled heavily and tucked one knee to his chest. He wrapped his tail around himself, similar to how he would with his mom when they were sitting together. He brought out another piece of food from the festival- this one healthier and more filling- and got himself to take another bite. He reminded himself that food was to alleviate hunger, not grief. Nothing could heal a broken heart, but he could at least make sure his kept beating.

“Happy Feast of Serenis.” Falst whispered to the runes beside him. “I miss you.”

[comfort-questing]

fealty (ch3)

first, second

it was an hour or less before dawn when the apprentice had a chance to see to the guard again, on the other side of the night from when she'd gently but firmly escorted out his visitor into the gathering dark. she'd been busy fetching and carrying and helping clean, the usual activities for when she was sharing nighttime duty with a handful of the other healers, and snatched a brief nap herself in the linen closet with her head on her arm, before waking to a summons. but in the cold gray of dreadfully early morning, iron-dull outside the windows, she huddled herself up at the foot of the guard's bed and held the water basin as one of the healers changed out the blood-clotted bandages wrapping his chest.

at least to her half-practiced glance all was well with him so far, the stitches holding and the skin around the wounds not too deeply reddened. the sound of his breaths was a little easier now, and he had given in to the sleeping draught and to exhaustion both, the skin sallow and papery around his closed eyes in the candlelight.

Valin. a name, a word, an identity. she had always been terrible at remembering names. you heard so many, and used them so seldom.

she stayed by his side afterwards, gathering up the dirty gauze and old bandages, tucking the blankets closer around him in the chill of the dark before dawn. it was only a few moments later that she saw his eyes were open, although no more than a fraction, and watching her as she moved here and there.

"can I... water, please."

he was better at measuring his breath now, because the few words did not set him coughing again; when she returned with the half-full cup of water and a spoon, he had gotten himself sitting up a little further, pale and shaky but with a set face.

"you don't need to try to move. I was going to help you. just tell me if you're going to try to get out of bed or something silly like that, wouldn't you?"

the guard blinked, and then the twist of a smile found the side of his mouth again.

"I won't...try yet, I think."

"you'd better not. you've been hurt badly and if you want to recover and go back to guarding, you'll need to rest and let yourself get better."

you had to take a hard stand with some of these fighting folk, the apprentice knew from experience. she knew it was less convincing coming from her than from the other healers, who had had more practice and typically more age and dignity, but it was worth a try.

"I... suppose so." he drank slowly from the cup she held to his lips, putting one hand up to steady it; he reached first with his right hand but winced and bit back a yelp, and then with his left more successfully. "where's ... Sorindel?"

"your lord? I hope he's asleep, it's quite late in the night. but I told him he could be back tomorrow." she glanced back over her shoulder, past the draft-brushed curtains, trying to gauge what was lamplight and what was the arrival of day outside the windows. "which should be soon, I think."

"good. shouldn't... have been shocked... if he'd stayed." the guard licked an escaped drop of water off his cracked lips, his eyes still sleep-hollowed, and chuckled softly. "he's... that sort."

"the healers wouldn't have let him. they don't like people sitting around getting in their way, not unless someone's dying and needs company."

"and we didn't... come to that, anyway." he coughed a little, but quickly stifled it, hiding the following wince with gritted teeth. "close, but... not quite."

something about the almost conspiratorial feeling of the moment, of the guard's lopsided half-smile next to her, gave the apprentice courage to ask, "was it his fault, what happened?"

the guard took another measured breath, wincing again.

"I... suppose it was. but - that doesn't matter, really. he's... my responsibility. like a cat... or a finicky rosebush... you know." once again the smile, and a shrug of one shoulder. "and... a nice fellow. so we'll forgive him."

the apprentice sat back on the wooden chair, tucking one leg up, chin to knee; her hands and apron were redolent of the strong soap from the basin, and she wrinkled up her nose.

"might as well," she said.

the smile had faded off the guard's face now, dull blue eyes suddenly serious. "if anything... happens, you'll... tell him that, won't you? not about... cats and rosebushes. about... forgiving him."

she reached over, then, and tugged the blanket up over the guard's shoulders, forestalling his clumsy one-handed attempts to manage it. the sheen of sweat on his forehead was visible in the candlelight, shivery strength giving out from his effort of the previous moments.

"of course," she said. "you'll tell him, if you wish; and I'll tell him, if we need to."

she watched his eyes slip shut again, and his labored breathing lengthen out, as beyond the walls the first birds started singing, sure of daylight before its appearance; and then when she was sure he was asleep, and the footsteps of the morning shift of healers approaching in the hallway, she stifled her own yawn and let the curtain fall closed on his rest.

___

[ansible-official]

I've been amassing a horde of PCs made from dumptser dive parts and have a bookshelf of hdd's. Unfortantely coordinating storage and maintaing a bunch of machines is getting out of hand. I thinking about breaking my rule and paying for hardware and getting a used server, backplane and rack but i've got no idea what the hell to look for or what a reasonable price is. Anytips on buying a used server? My goal for this machine is that it can hold or easily support a backplane with 24+ 3.5" hdds and having a gpu or igpu that can stream 4k SDR video while running a slimmed DE

hi!! first off, labgopher is a great resource for skimming ebay (though not fully comprehensive). you may have better luck setting saved searches w/notifs on ebay, if you have time to kill waiting for a good deal. oh, and uh, avoid buying gear where the pictures look like a trash heap...i once got a server wrapped in grocery bags and sticky with purple juice, crammed diagonally into an undersized box for a circular saw.

second. do not buy HP/HPE gear. (reminder, this take is not endorsed by redhat.) their shit is so outdated and crippled...the hours i sunk into finding out that a performance server (DL380p) from ~2012 had no support for UEFI boot, then setting up Duet just to get something bootable... yeah. many such cases. (after another issue someone said "oh maybe you got one with the half-broken iommu" and refused to elaborate.) pay the dell tax, or check out supermicro or whoever else, but not HP. there's a reason it's cheaper than everything else on the market, and it's that no one wants it.

so regarding the design requirements: a typical 2U LFF cage holds 12 drives. there are some machines (e.g. Dell R720xd2) that have _two_ rows of drives, which would give you the 24x capacity you're looking for, though these are gonna be pricier because of their density. the other approach would be to tack 1-2 jbod chassis onto a server. i've seen a 12xLFF 1U chassis on ebay before, with like 3 rows of drives, which was pretty neat. a chassis with all of its drives up front will take up more vertical space and probably not be much shallower than a regular server anyways.

so my ideal approach would be this:

2U server such as an R720, with plenty of room in the back for PCIe cards ($200 | $350 | $600)

a JBOD* or two, enough to meet your disk needs (remember you can also use any storage in the front of the server) ($150 | $350 | $500 each)

whatever PCIe storage controller cards and cables you need to connect the jbod to the server ($15 | $40 | $60)

a GPU that fits in your PCIe space ($??? idfk*)

*re JBOD and controllers and cables: i have not actually successfully set up a jbod of my own, or even a controller card. the only reason i got my NAS off the ground was because some madlad published a way to crossflash the H710 card that came with my servers. for this reason i am nervous to recommend too far outside what i've actually tried and accomplished

*re disks: try to get gear that comes with drive caddies, or at least uses very common caddies like dell/supermicro/netapp. i have a hitahci jbod that i found cheap on ebay...but have no idea what caddies it needs so it's kinda useless lol

*re gpu: i know next to nothing about gpus

thanks for the ask!! i think, you have inspired me to spin off another blog, since i actually do have hardware experience, as opposed to...ansible...yeah. i'll follow up when i have a new blog set up :)

[wolves-against-the-world]

Witchfinders

Jay started from a shivering half doze when their target finally appeared. May slapped his arm several times, making empty fwhoop-fwhoop-whoop sounds on his winter jacket.

"Told you!" She hissed triumphantly.

"Great," Jay said between chattering teeth. They’d first noticed him about two hours ago. Well, May had, because May was a psychic, something she never ceased to mention she hated.

"It's not like I picked this", she always said. "Do you know how fucking inconvenient it is to always see people's negative feelings and whatever lurks around without being able to do anything about it? If that was what I wanted, I'd have become a tabloid writer."

Jay wasn’t certain she was not exaggerating - psychic abilities were genetically recessive, and you needed a lot of luck to get more than a few psychics in any lineage.

She was admittedly a keen observer though, which had made her entire family fairly successful spiritualists until that sort of thing became embarrassing instead of impressive.

Jay looked at his radar and found the screen infuriatingly empty. He already regretted spending the exorbitant amount of money (about 70 pounds) on something this useless. The seller - a sturdy old woman who had been well known for being the only reputable psychic in the country, ironically because she didn't like the spotlight - had assured him it could detect latent magic. So far it had only been useful for detecting cellphones, microwaves, and one time, memorably, a minor radiation leak at a cancer clinic.

May was staring at something a bit away, which was impressive since there was very little to warrant more than a passing glance. To one side, there were the houses in their neighborhood that hadn't changed in about as long as they could remember, if one discounted the pressure wash of several house fronts that had made plaster drop on unsuspecting people for a week. To the left was a fence restricting access to the train tracks out of town, or into town, depending on your perspective. Current demographic surveys suggested the former.

May was staring down the street, her jaw set in the way it was when she was very certain of something. Now, very certain of something didn't mean she was right, not even in the supernatural realm.

"Absolutely not," he said.

"Why not??" Her voice carried the indignation of her entire heritage.

"Because last time you did this, we got laughed out of a theater AND a restraining order! You weren't even right! We need a better plan than just going up to random people and hoping for the best!"

“Then make a better one.”

They stared at one another.

Jay scowled. “Fine, then go up to a possibly magical human that might just zap us out of existence.”

"Oh don’t be stupid. He’s not a witch, I just think he's carrying some sort of magical item."

"You don't even know that's a he, how can you tell what he's - what they're wearing under those layers? Could be a tall woman, for all we know. And besides-" He had meant to bring up the frankly nerve-wracking cold, and was pleased to have found a logical place to slot the topic into. "It's cold as balls, we should go home and - wait-"

May gave him the sort of look that typically made people's toenails roll up, dampened slightly by its path over her shoulder. She left Jay to catch up with her as she strode down the street, catching up and then holding the pace of the figure she'd locked in on. May, full name Mayflower Justicia Borden, was very tall and the sort of person that was remarked on by being remarkable against her will. She hadn't spoken for most of her school life, until she realized people picked on you for things that were out of your control anyway, and from then on made it everyone else's problem.

"Excuse me, Sir, sorry to bother you-"

The personshaped black spot turned slightly and for a second she thought "fuck, it's a woman after all, she's gonna be mad" until the figure pulled off a pair of headphones and turned to reveal, indeed, a man, if the beard was any indication.

"What?"

The tone wasn't unfriendly per se.. but the man didn’t have a very welcoming face. If that was by accident of birth or a choice was to be seen.

"Right, sorry Sir, this is going to sound very odd-"

"So sorry about that, we're uh-" Jay came to a rather undignified halt with one hand holding onto a street light lest he turn his last step into a sledding trip.

The man stopped walking and observed them. He was in his mid-60s, tall, but not remarkably so, handsome but not remarkably so, with a long-ish, square-ish face and brown-ish skin. The only thing not -ish about him were his eyes, which were too blue to be anything but contact lenses. Jay felt acutely seen, in a way he hadn't felt since May's grandmother had read his future and been right all the damn time, too.

The difference to Mrs Borden was that this man wasn't trying to hide the cold calculation in his face. He'd picked the contacts well. It turned the gaze from smoldering to arctic, sending a physical shiver down Jay's spine.

"It's not very polite to follow strangers," the man pointed out. His voice reflected the same control, not using a syllable more than necessary.

Well, shit. Jay already saw another policeman call his parents to ask what the hell he was up to, and why he couldn't do this in his university town instead. "Uhm."

Even May seemed taken aback, visibly calculating how far they'd been away, then decided it didn't matter. "So sorry to bother you, Sir. Do you happen to be carrying a magical item?"

The stranger didn't even blink.

"If you're trying to rob me or sell something, that's an odd way of going about it," he said. His expression remained flat, which would have been funny if Jay hadn't been shitting his pants for a reason he couldn't pinpoint. Somewhere in his brain an instinct so old it preceded upright walking woke from a coma to scream "DANGER DANGER DANGER GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE". But Jay also had anxiety, so that was really not out of the ordinary.

"What, no!" Jay stammered. "We're, uh, we're paranormal investigators. She's a psychic!" He gestured to May, who nodded with all the dignity she could muster.

"Didn't know psychics used knives these days.”

May shifted uncomfortably, revealing a switchblade knife. A pink one.

"Where'd you even get that?" Jay hissed. "Aren't those illegal?"

May ignored him, easing her grip on the knife but not putting it away. "Going up to strangers can be dangerous."

"Undoubtedly," said the stranger.

"As my, uh, colleague said, I'm a psychic. You're carrying something with a strong magical aura, we just wanna make sure you're safe. And, uh, maybe take a look at it. For research."

"And I'm sure you're not just trying to sell your services." His calm tone stood in stark contrast to his words. Well, at least he didn't yell at them like the last five people.

"Absolutely not!", May assured. "We're volunteers. No money involved. Uh, unless we're doing like. An exorcism."

Finally, the man showed a physical response: he lifted an eyebrow.

"Right, uh, could you, like, warrant a guess what it might be?"

The man pondered this for a moment. "No." He cut May off when she wanted to speak. "Mind walking with me for a bit?"

May had already said yes before Jay could tell her how stupid an idea this was, so they walked. The stranger introduced himself as Zachary. When Jay asked where they were walking, Zachary told him an address that was vaguely familiar. He still spoke mostly in single sentences, but it was enough to reveal an American accent. Maybe they'd gotten lucky. Americans believed all sorts of shit.

Zachary told them he'd just gone grocery shopping, since his cousin wanted to make dinner. Even though the bag looked like a pimple about to burst, he carried it easily in one gloved hand. As they walked along the empty and depressingly gray street, May filled him in on their work, emphasizing their good intentions and downplaying how little they'd actually accomplished so far. She omitted the radiation incident, which was probably their biggest success, though in a different way than they'd hoped for. To his credit, Zachary didn't remark upon their names, which raised Jay's opinion of him substantially.

May described and then quizzed their new friend on various magical artifacts he could have come in the possession of, but save for a notebook bought in a second hand shop, he denied knowledge of all.

Maybe, Jay thought, they were being set up. Maybe the guy was wearing a microphone and camera, stuff like that was so small these days, shit, he could just use his phone for all they knew. They'd be laughing stocks for all the internet to see. Or maybe he was a psychic himself, or even a witch, fully aware of his item's traits and just entertaining himself. Staking out the competition.

The closest coven they had identified was in Sheffield, a circle of old ladies who used their abilities to enhance their healing potions and alcoholic beverages. Didn't mean there couldn't be others, more hidden ones, doing scary things.

Jay tried to get May's attention, but she was deep into explaining the intricacies of aura reading. They'd made their way from the train tracks to the square in a needlessly complex route. Maybe he was one of those guys. A manly man who didn't ask for directions. Or he was just enjoying the walk.

"So you can see everyone's aura?" Zachary asked. His voice was still the eery drone of pack ice moving, but there was a lighter note of curiosity now.

May paused longer than was necessary or comfortable.

"Mostly. Non-magical people don't know how to hide their aura, let alone that they have one. If it's gone the person is either dead, magical or, like, really introverted. The colors often give me a hint of someone's personality and the movement can indicate emotions. They get very bright when someone is using magic. It's not an exact science unfortunately, experience mostly. My grandmother was really good at it in the end."

"Fascinating." Zachary looked around and turned into a side street instead of returning to the road following the train tracks. "How about my aura, then?"

"I thought you didn't like people selling you things?"

"I don't like buying the cat in the bag. I'm sure my cousin wouldn't mind hosting you for dinner, though."

"That's really not nece-"

"Sure," Jay said, thinking with his growling, frozen stomach instead of his brain. The trip back home would take a minimum of thirty minutes walking. He'd also finally matched the address to the town's only pub (and B&B and event location). They were safer among people than out here, completely alone.

May gave him a searing look, but Jay was used to that.

"Look at that, we're already there." Jay decided to ignore how ominous that sounded.

Indeed there was the front of the pub, painted black and reading something incomprehensible followed by "goat" and the words "founded in 1367". How true that was had been up for debate since the pub opened.

"How are you liking Britain so far?" Jay asked conversationally. "Lotsa old buildings here compared to home."

If there was a physical reaction, Jay didn't notice.

"The weather could be improved upon."

"Yeah," Jay said unimaginatively.

The door moved disappointingly silently. Jay’s face began to itch in the sudden warmth and he hurried to take off his coat before he cooked to death. He'd been in the pub once and now found it no less unpleasant but all in all no different than any other several century old pub. The room was almost entirely made of wood, the woodworm probably doing more work than the actual struts by this point, blackened by smoke and maybe tar.

"Welcome back," someone purred.

Jay flinched, nearly flinging his coat at the figure. The woman gave them a smile, wholly unimpressed by the reaction and decidedly closer than social convention dictated.

She was stunning, simply put, though too short to make it as a model. Dark hair flowed over a shiny turquoise top, and tight black leather pants showed about anything anyone wanted to see. Around her hips hung a belt made of silver medallions.

"You've brought guests, how lovely."

While Jay was still working on rebooting his brain, he was dragged away from the door and the woman's hypnotic gaze. They were met by a short, middle-aged man on the verge of fat with a kind, round face. He greeted them warmly and hugged Zachary, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Corner of the mouth. Maybe.

Jay was still puzzling about that gesture in the context of the man's priest collar when the next revelation hit: It was quiet.

Not in the way of a forest near a predator, but in the way a theater is quiet waiting for the performance to begin. He could tell May was thinking the same. There were about a dozen people in the room, all of which were looking at them.

"Nice to meet you," May said stiffly. "Is the pub not open tonight?"

"We rented it out for a few days," the priest said in a very much not American or British accent. "We're doing a...reunion of sorts. Our friends came from all over the place, you see." He smiled. It was a very nice smile. He seemed like a nice, reasonable person, Jay thought. Hardly a witch of any kind. They hated churches, they'd never survive all the time it took to become a priest, even if it was a pretty good diversion.

"My name is Mayflower," May said, shocking Jay and probably all her ancestors. "I'm a psychic. Zachary is carrying a magical item and we want to make sure you're all being safe."

"We're not trying to sell anything," Jay added hastily. In a much smaller voice he added: "Though he said something about dinner."

Jay was aware he missed a lot of things in life. His brain just had different priorities than other people. He did not miss the sudden interest of the people at the back table, a short man with almost implausible golden curls and a duo of women with heights firmly outside the average in both directions.

"A magical item?" The priest did not seem too alarmed. "That is indeed something worth investigating. Come and sit with us then, we'll have dinner soon."

May looked around, scanning everyone, but not coming up with an excuse. They went to sit at a table near the front, where the woman in blue had already taken a seat, one leg in knee-high boots lazily draped over the edge. She unwrapped a piece of blue bubble gum and tossed it into her mouth.

"My friends, this is Eliza. She has an interest in the occult herself." He was interrupted by an enormous man with alarmingly ginger hair throwing himself into one of the seats. "You shoulda told me there's stuff going on. What's that about magical items?"

"These are our guests Mayflower and..." He looked at Jay. "Jayden?"

Jay just shrugged, too taken up by May trying to break his hand. He didn't want to draw back so obviously but she pinched his finger really hard and -

Ah.

Jay shot a stealthy look towards the priest. His radar was vibrating in his pocket. Both men were wearing a silver sigil in the form of a pendant and a brooch. They looked different than Eliza's, the wolf head combined with some sort of pointy cross, but unmistakably related.

Jay considered if they had in fact not stumbled into a witch coven but some weird nationalist fraternity. Not fraternity, specifically, considering there were several women, but some sort of... Cult? They were all different ages, too, the woman, Eliza, looking no older than 25 and the priest being in his 50s at minimum.

"Really cool, uh, pendant you got," Jay said before his brain could tell him this would get them killed. "You into, what's the name again, that fantasy show where people die all the time?"

"Didn't like the ending much, but the books are good," Eliza said in that way too sultry voice. The big man made a face between distaste and amusement. He leaned onto his elbows, resting his chin on one large but surprisingly delicate hand. A lot of things about him were paradoxically delicate, from his pale, freckled skin to a face looking surprisingly young despite the visible lines around his eyes and mouth. His hair was the color of wildfire, curls pulled into a ponytail that left bangs spilling over the side of his face.

"Sooooooo, what kinda psychics are you?" he asked. "Telling the future? Making potions? Kinda hard to find proper witches these days."

"You've met proper witches?"

Eliza loudly popped her bubblegum.

"I just said they're hard to find, didn't I?", said Red.

"I'm not a witch," May said stiffly. "I read auras and magical signatures." Not for the first time, Jay wished desperately he could see what she saw. What were these people's auras like? Were they dangerous? Upset? Laughing at them?

"Yours is blue," May said in the tone of voice she used when making shit up on the spot. "Light blue, a bit silvery. Like a tuna."

Red didn't seem offended by the comparison. "Neat. How about Sasha?"

"Who?"

"Zachary, sorry."

"It's grey," May said without even turning around. "It's a pretty rare color, but it means he's a very controlled and logical person."

Red nodded enthusiastically. "He is! How about me?"

"You're curious," Jay said. "Silver and blue are the colors of the sky and sea, you like to travel, can't be in one place for too long. You're also not really into pointless workouts, but like to apply yourself."

May had meant to kick his leg, but had thought better of it. Jay felt vindicated.

"That's something every half-baked carnival psychic could tell you," Eliza huffed. She swung her legs off the table, heels thumping the wooden floor. "Tell me something secret."

There was a long pause.

May knitted her brow, then held out her hand. "Okay."

Eliza observed her, still chewing her bubblegum. Then she placed her manicured hand in May's. Her nail polish was bright blue. "Knock yourself out."

The moments May sat there seemed to draw into eternity. Eliza kept the vague expression of distaste, while Red was leaning forward in obvious interest.

Jay tried to get an overview of the room in case things got ugly. Zachary was speaking with a tall man behind the bar he hadn't noticed before. Under the beanie he'd taken off, Zachary had shoulder-long brown hair with a white streak at the front. He hadn't seemed the type for that trend. The other man had waist-long black hair, a goatee, and wore sunglasses inside.

The table in the back was silently sipping on their drinks, clearly trying to listen in. The priest - if he was one - had disappeared.

The tiny bell over the door rang and then took a nosedive, hitting someone with a muffled thud. "Aw man," the someone said.

"There you are!" The priest was back, somehow. It was quite disconcerting.

The newcomer was a lanky youth, looking to be barely out of secondary school. His pale cheeks were flushed from the cold, a thick scarf wrapped around about everything above the belt.

"My apologies, this place wasn't too easy to find. Are we still on schedule?"

Under the thick jacket, the youth was wearing a white shirt and black bow with matching suspenders, meaning he was either a nerd or a waiter. Hired help meant paperwork, meant questions asked if someone disappeared. Jay relaxed a bit.

He really was being too paranoid. The worst thing that had happened on any investigation was being forced to drink bad tea and being laughed at. And the radiation exposure. That was pretty bad.

Still. Nothing supernaturally bad had happened.

He liked May a lot but her abilities were nothing to brag about. They were just two kids who liked to dig into things most people didn't take seriously.

The young man hung up his coat and immediately began sorting things behind the counter, finally removing the man with the sunglasses. Coming around the corner, the man revealed an arm covered in Nordic occult tattoos. Enthusiast, witch, or fascist? Impossible to tell by looking.

"You're a con artist," May said suddenly.

Jay turned back to the table. Eliza had raised one very accurately formed eyebrow. "Takes one to know one I suppose."

May didn't take the bait. "You're from Scandinavia, liv

[jgvfhl]

The Number Lads Go Snooping

Here we are folks... Sevenset is tasked with keeping Fives entertained while Tup is examined after the tragic and mysterious execution of General Tiplar on Ringo Vinda. Unfortunately for them, and Echo's blood pressure, Sevenset and Fives have strange ideas of what constitutes entertainment. BEHOLD, THE ORDERS ARC BEGINS!!

Words: not quite 8K (longest chapter to date oop) Warnings: Canon typical suspense with canon atypical swearing :) Link to Master List of Chapters on Tumblr Link to the full story on Ao3 Happy reading!

CrispyDomino: hey sevenset, need a favor

RedBoiiiii: o7 reporting for orders

CrispyDomino: Fives is bringing one of our boys to Kamino for a med eval

RedBoiiiii: yikes that’s not fun

CrispyDomino: Yeah, you mind making sure he’s not worrying himself sick over the kid?

RedBoiiiii: I will do my best! When are they arriving?

CrispyDomino: Should get there in a few hours

RedBoiiiii: You got it, buddy! I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid

DEATH: That’s not particularly promising

RedBoiiiii: oh COME ON

d0nut man: lkdjafkd

Double Trouble: oh my gods XD

CrispyDomino: Don’t worry, Sevens, I have faith in you

RedBoiiiii: THANK you echo

Leafs: We really can’t go ten seconds without something huh?

RedBoiiiii: THE COMMANDER STARTED IT

CrispyDomino: Anyway, thanks Sevens, means a lot

CrispyDomino: I’m on campaign, but feel free to send updates if you want

-scene break-

Sevenset had gotten a message from Fives as soon as he’d touched down, it had appeared. He’d grumbled a little at his batchmate’s mothering, but he’d conceded it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get out of his own head while his friend was in medical. But, first Fives had to be assessed as well, so Sevenset had been left to his own devices for a bit, waiting for Fives to comm him after he was cleared.

He had chosen to use this time to be, as most people called it, a menace. He called it practicing his environmental awareness and stealth skills, although no one else seemed too keen to agree with him. After successfully pranking Colt on the Venator after their last mission, he’d doubled-down on finding some way to get at Alpha-17. A death sentence? Possibly.

But he would be legendary if he pulled it off.

It did leave him with the slight problem of finding where the grumpy captain spent most of his time. He was a very private man, and most of the time he wasn’t in his rooms anyway (which would be great news once Sevenset found them). His search had brought him almost back around to the main medical wing of Kamino. No, not the medical wing for the tubies, or the medical wing for the scientists, or the other medical wing for surgery and … whatever else they did over there. This was mainly for soldiers who came in with injuries too mysterious or serious to treat on the field, so it was undoubtedly where Fives and his friend were now.

His plan so far was based solely on lying, and hoping someone was fooled into giving him Alpha’s room number, or at least which wing he lived in. So far, however, he’d only encountered clone officers who knew better than to talk to him outside of necessity, Kaminoans who really didn’t know what to do with him half the time he approached them, and some of the nattie trainers. He didn’t feel like talking to many of them. They were fine, for the most part, but… eh. Not his thing.

An alarm went off, harsh against his ears without his bucket. He flinched, looking around and waiting for an announcement.

“Security breach. All nonessential personnel report to a safe room for lockdown.”

The round door at the end of the hallway slid open suddenly, making him pivot in that direction. The hall flooded with red emergency lighting. A pantoran woman strode out, followed by the sounds of hustle and bustle a bit too bustling for normal medical procedure.

“This place is about to be locked down,” she told him. “Better get a move on, ARC.”

He fell into step beside her as she walked, seeing no point in sticking around if that was indeed the case. He glanced over her person, trying to remember if he’d seen her around for long. He definitely recognized parts of her armor. She was one of the few Mandos left on Kamino, her armor mostly a deep blue, with pink and yellow clouds rolling along the bottom of her chestplate. Her pink hair was cropped close to her head on the sides and flopped over loosely on top. She was only about as tall as his shoulder, probably approaching forty years old, but this woman had two gold jaig eyes tattooed on her forehead.

There was no messing with her.

“Why?” he asked.

“Undisclosed. Someone’s up to no good in the medical wing.”

The alarm continued to blare.

Sevenset glanced behind him at the closed door. Fives hadn’t contacted him yet… did that mean he was in lockdown without his armor? They had to remove their kit for med evals, so maybe with the security, he hadn’t been able to get his comm back yet. That had to be it. Fives was ARC. He hadn’t survived this long by doing rash things like… whatever this trooper was doing.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” he asked, choosing to collect whatever information he could about this Mando.

She glanced over at him. “Maral Tumun.”

He nodded. “I’m Sevenset. I’ve seen you around once or twice.”

“I would hope so. I’ve been training you lot for ages. I trained some of the command batches up from tykes.”

Oh, had she now? That was worth poking into a little bit. “Which batches?”

Before she had an opportunity to answer, his comm went off. He glanced at the frequency and frowned. He didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t anyone in his squadron, or any of the Numbers. Weird.

“Sorry, I gotta take this,” he mumbled, answering the voice transmission. “This is ARC seven seven seven seven.”

“Hey, Sevens, it’s Fives. Listen–I uh… I might’ve done something.”

Oh no.

He hastily muted the comm, but didn't disconnect it, staring at Trainer Tumun, whose gold eyes had locked on him as soon as she'd heard Fives' name. "Wrong number?" he tried.

Her brow rose. "You often get wrong numbers who know your name?"

"Uh, yeah, all the time. Pretty common name among the newer batches, actually," he rambled on.

"Let me hear him," she said.

"Why? No. Ma'am."

“If you don’t, I am still under obligation to report any incidents related to what that trooper has done in medical to my superiors,” she said. “And I believe you would prefer this knowledge remain out of the Kaminoans’ hands for as long as possible, yes?”

He blinked at her. She was… helping? Was she helping? Obviously, whatever Fives had done, he wanted to know as much as he could before making decisions on how to help. She did have reasonable authority to march him down to one of the commanders or one of the doctors and make him sing, and he did not want to do that.

“You won’t get him in trouble?”

She crossed her arms, her beskar clinking. “Any more trouble, you mean?”

“Yeah…”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I know well enough to hear him out.”

Okay. It was as good as he was gonna get. He unmuted the comm.

“Heyyy…. Fives, sorry about that–”

“What the hell was that?” his friend demanded. “What happened?”

“I ran into a trainer, okay?” he shot back, trying to keep his voice down. “I–she heard you, I had to explain some things–”

“Who? What? I thought you were gonna help, Sevens!”

That hurt. He put a hand on his hip even though Fives couldn’t see him. “I’m trying, okay? This is the first time someone’s commed me after putting a whole wing of medical into lockdown, Fives! That was you, right?”

Trainer Tumun stepped closer. “What happened, trooper?”

“It’s–-there’s—something’s wrong with Tup. Yeah, Nala se was gonna cover up all the data, she switched the cases and everything.”

Sevenset exchanged a quizzical glance with the trainer. “This is the guy you were escorting here?”

“Yeah, yeah, he—kark, I dunno, mate, he got all kinds of messed up on Ringo Vinda.” Fives didn’t sound like himself. Far too agitated to be the collected, quick-witted soldier Sevenset knew. “He… he killed a Jedi, Sevens. And the Kaminoans aren’t doing enough to figure out why. All they want to do is kill him and take him apart afterwards.”

Sevenset sucked in a sharp breath, instinctively glancing up and around for witnesses. Without warning, Trainer Tumun grabbed his arm and pulled them both into a storage room toward the end of the corridor. It was dark, except for the white light from his comm, giving both their faces an eerie glow.

“Explain,” she ordered once they were both inside. At least the alarm was quieter here.

“He lost it! He was—he was—agitated, he was violent, he wasn’t responding to his name at all. He tried takin’ a swipe at General Skywalker too! Tied down to a gurney.”

“So what are you doing, Fives?” Sevenset wanted to know. “Why don’t you have your armor?”

“Armor? Armor—no, no, no, no, armor was too recognizable. Grabbed a plain set. He’ll be fine, barely a concussion—”

“You stole armor?”

“Well, no one’s giving it away, are they?” Fives replied sharply. “I may have… I kind of convinced a droid to perform a medical procedure on Tup, and when Nala Se found out, she freaked out. Said they had to do more extensive testing, still says it might be a virus, or a–a parasite—”

“Extensive testing?” Sevenset asked, his brows furrowing. Initial testing was usually pretty thorough. Why the need to go extensive? “Not the hyper testing, I hope. That will kill him.”

“But I found something!” Fives said. “I found something in his brain with the scan I did, right? But Nala Se said it was nothing, said the machine was calibrated wrong.”

Trainer Tumun tilted her head. “Those machines are never calibrated wrong.”

“Exactly! There was something in his head—maybe not just him, maybe there’s more—”

Sevenset held up a hand. “Okay, hold up, where are you?”

There was a heavy pause. Then, quietly, “Storage room, near the genetics wing.”

Another pause landed. “How? Why?” Sevenset demanded.

“I’m in disguise, aren’t I? They were gonna kriffin’ wipe me, Sevens! Now are you gonna help make sure Tup’s okay, or not?”

Sevenset sucked in a sharp breath almost without thinking. Reconditioning was more of a rumor than anything concrete on Kamino. Hearing his friend say it out loud like that…. Kark. This was worse than he’d thought.

“Yeah, and how am I supposed to keep Tup safe and you out of harm’s way at the same time, huh?”

“I’ll look after Tup,” Trainer Tumun said, cutting into their conversation suddenly.

“What?”

“What?”

“I am Trainer Maral Tumun,” she said for Fives’ sake. “I don’t trust these Kaminoans when they’re this excited to dispose of a soldier. If they are so keen to find you, then they are keen to cover up what’s happening to Tup. I will find out, and I will make sure he gets to a doctor who knows the value of sentient life.”

There was another long pause as they both took in the information. Finally, Fives said, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“How are you gonna do that?” Sevenset asked. So he was a little skeptical. He had reason to be.

She smiled. “I am of Clan Ves. We do not disappoint.”

“Yeah, that’s great, I was talking more logistics?” he said. “Where are there doctors to treat him? How is he getting off Kamino? How are you even getting him off the medical table?”

Trainer Tumun sniffed, lifting her chin. “I know a guy.”

“It’s not Commander Nero, is it?” Fives asked with much sarcasm.

She looked down at the comm, shifting her stance slightly. “I do not have to answer that.”

“Nero?” Sevenset repeated. “Wait, he’s Commander Sixes’ batcher, right?” He recalled her remark about training command batches. “Holy kark, you trained those grumpy bastards, didn’t you?”

Once again, she lifted her chin and shuffled her feet slightly. “They were my best.”

“They’re kriffing sociopaths, ma’am,” Fives blurted.

“No, they are not, I had them tested.”

Comforting. But not important right now. “Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “You’ll find Tup and use Commander Nero’s infinite source of strings to pull to get him off-world. Fives, I’m gonna find you and make sure you don’t do anything stupid by yourself.”

Trainer Tumun gave him a look. “Not the usual phrasing of that expression.”

“Story of my life, ma’am,” he told her.

“Sounds good. My locator should still be on, Sevenset should be able to track me with that. I’m heading to the Genetic Records Hall.”

He sighed, rubbing his head. “Copy that, I’ll find you.”

“Stay outside until I come out. And thanks… again…”

The comm disconnected, leaving them in almost total darkness. Almost, because of the tiny dots of light on their vambrace controls.

“Okay.”

She nodded. Probably. “Let’s go.”

He followed her out into the hall, selecting the frequency Fives had used to comm him and tracking the corresponding locator signal. He turned this way and that a couple times, never the best at directionality.

“Okay, Genetic Records Hall,” he said. “No clue where that is.”

“I know it,” Tumun nodded. “I’ll need access to a different part of the medical wing, so I’ll send you the coordinates while we walk.” Without leaving room for debate, she turned and began walking, leaving him to catch up at a slight jog.

This was a bad situation, obviously. Sevenset wasn’t that tone-deaf not to realize that. But he also knew the value in taking the opportunities presented to him, and right now, he had direct access to a woman who had known Commander Sixes since he had been able to walk. There was no way in any of the nine hells he was letting this chance pass by without using it to find out something.

“So… Chaos Batch, huh?” he said by way of introduction. “You uh… you made ‘em like that?”

“I trained them,” she replied. “They were already like that.”

He gave a low whistle. “Okay, so Commander Nero has always been two degrees away from being a serial killer?”

“Well, he did try to kill a Kaminoan when he was five standard.”

He gaped at her. “He did what? And he’s alive?”

“That’s when he was transferred to the Chaos Batch,” she answered easily. “And also when he was tested for sociopathy. He just has a very rigid view of right and wrong, and a penchant for finding the simplest solution to his problems. But his emotional depth is perfectly normal.”

Sevenset could only nod. So the weird vibes he’d gotten from Commander Nero were well deserved. Granted, he’d never felt actively threatened by the man. He just had understood that if Nero had wanted it, Sevenset would have been dead faster than he could say his own name.

“Uh…huh,” he answered. “And Commander Sixes… has he always been that prickly? Grumpy, as some would say.”

She shook her head. “No, Bacara’s the one they call Grumpy. Sixes was… well. Geonosis One changed a lot of your older brothers. He’s a sweetheart to his core.”

A what? A sweetheart? The guy in all-black armor whose callsign was Death was a sweetheart? Sevenset’s mind reeled.

“Not that he’d ever admit it,” Tumun continued as they turned the corner to the neighboring corridor. “They’re all stubborn as hell, but they had determination and ingenuity like I’d never seen in a squad of cadets before. Bacara once stayed up all night putting together what he called a ‘flawless battle strategy’ for the four of them, and it was. He took into account each of their strengths and weaknesses, and they absolutely demolished the squad they were facing the next day.”

“No kidding,” he said. Small wonder the Marines were some of the most efficient soldiers in the GAR. With a commander like that… well.

“But they also invented Knife Monopoly while drunk for the first time,” she mused, a fond smile on her face. “And Sixes and Nero once shot each other during a concocted ‘duel,’ and they both have scars from it.” She shook her head. “Even genetic manipulation can’t stop teenagers from being teenagers.”

Sevenset was honestly approaching speechlessness. All that came out in reply to those world-shattering revelations was, “Oh.” His mind felt like a speeder without altitude stabilizers.

“We’re here,” Tumun said, stopping near an arched door back into the medical wing. She raised her vambrace, tapping a message. “These are the coordinates to the Genetics Hall. It’s near the incubation wings. I’ll go find Tup.”

“Got it,” he nodded, his brain struggling a little to recover from the previous conversation.

“What is Tup’s designation?” she asked.

“Uh…” He commed Fives.

“Are you here?”

“Starting there now. What’s Tup’s designation?”

“CT fifty-three eighty-five.”

Tumun nodded. “I’ll go find him. I promise,” she added, pressing a closed fist across her chest. A Mandalorian salute.

He nodded back, then took off at a jog toward where he knew the incubators were. He didn’t know what kind of time frame Fives was on, but he had to assume it wasn’t a long one. He offered passing excuses and thank yous as he dodged around doctors and troopers in the hallways, but honestly, Colt had made him run enough laps through the city that even if someone asked him what he was doing, he’d just say tell them that. No one would even blink.

Ten minutes. It took him almost ten minutes to get there. Something closer to seven, probably, but still. It felt too long. When the door was in sight, he opened his comm again.

“Fives, I’m near the main doors, what’s your status?”

“This shit just gets worse and worse, I’m telling you–” he replied angrily.

The door opened, making Sevenset look up hopefully. But no. Kaminoans were filing out of the room. Quietly, seemingly unbothered, but… no. Too quickly. Too orderly.

“Buddy, they know you’re in there,” he said, keeping his voice down.

“Yeah, I see it.”

Well. Sevenset was nothing if not recklessly impulsive at his core. “I’m coming with you,” he said, disconnecting the comm before Fives could argue, then darting towards the door.

The Kaminoans didn’t stop him. They moved out of his way, if anything. As he passed the threshold, he heard more hurried footsteps approaching from the opposite corridor from which he’d come.

“Time go, pal!” he called, now out-right sprinting to Fives. Force, he looked weird in shiny armor.

“You’re a kriffing moron, Sevens!” he shouted, following an AZ medical droid towards… oh, an emergency hatch in the ceiling. Smart.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know,” he shot back.

“There!” someone shouted behind them. Then stun rings began blazing past them as they ran.

Maker’s sake, they really wanted this guy! Sevenset would have been impressed, if he weren’t running away from them too. He practically flung himself up the yellow rungs of the ladder behind Fives, pulling himself into the emergency hatch after him and stepping back so the AZ could weld it shut.

Then he turned to Fives.

“Okay, so you’re in a stupendous amount of shit.”

“You didn’t have to follow me!” he shot back.

“Too bad! You’re my friend, and I have reckless tendencies,” he replied, tossing his hands in the air.

“I do not meant to interrupt,” said the droid, holding up one of its metal fingers, “but we have research to finish.”

“Finish?” Fives repeated, looking at it. “You didn’t get everything you needed?”

“Hey, I’ve an idea,” Sevenset cut in. “How about we walk and talk, yeah? Where the hell are you going?”

“What information do you still need, AZ?” Fives asked the droid.

“Well,” the droid began, sounding, as many droids did, way too calm for the amount of pressure riding on the current situation, “we know it is an organic chip, created and implanted into clone Tup’s brain.”

Sevenset put his hands on his hips and looked at Fives.

“We found a thing in Tup’s brain, it’s not from the original genetic material from Prime, so someone had to put it there,” he supplied.

“What I am not sure of,” AZ went on, turning his body around and rummaging in his storage compartment, “is at what stage of development the chip is implanted, and its purpose.”

“And we don’t know if it’s in my brain too,” Fives added, which made Sevenset’s gaze snap back to him.

“Excuse me?” Fives had reason to believe that whatever made Tup execute a Jedi General was also in his head?

The droid spoke up, now holding a glass slide containing something suspiciously flesh-colored. “Your scans did not indicate—”

“Neither did Tup’s, until we looked deeper,” Fives insisted. “If they missed it in Tup, they can miss it in me. We have to check.”

A horrible thought came unbidden to Sevenset’s mind. If this thing was in Fives and Tup… then it could be in his head too, right?

“And if it is?” he heard himself ask.

His friend looked at him.

“If it is in your head too?”

“Then he takes it out,” Fives said firmly, tilting his bucket towards AZ.

The droid rose in the air slightly, his visual receptors shining a bit brighter in shock. “That is a dangerous surgery. When I removed clone Tup’s chip, his overall health greatly worsened.”

“I’ll risk it.”

“Hey–wait, what?” Sevenset held up his hands. “‘Greatly worsened?’ What does that mean?”

“He’s still alive,” Fives said, then turned back to AZ. “Are you gonna help, or not?”

“We will need to return to a medical facility,” the droid said, drifting slightly towards Sevenset, intending to pass him.

“Fives, mate,” he said, stepping in front of the droid. “This is a lot. Are you sure you’re—”

Fives stepped over the round hole in the floor where the hatch was. “Tup is one of my best friends. He’s hurting because someone put this thing in his head. Maybe they put this thing into all of our heads. Now, the Kaminoans know something they’re not willing to let me find out.”

“And that might be a good thing,” Sevenset argued. “Listen, I’m not one to trust the long-necks, but we’re not scientists, Fives.”

“This thing made Tup kill a Jedi!” his friend exclaimed. “You want that? You wanna wake up one day a prisoner in your own head, watching your body hunt down General Ti and shoot her?”

“Don’t do that,” he told him, his voice dropping to a dark pitch.

“It’s the truth,” Fives told him. “I need to know how far this goes. You should too.”

Truthfully, Sevenset was curious. Inherently so, some would say. But he wasn’t an idiot, like the others would also say. What Fives was doing was dangerous. A medical procedure like brain surgery wasn’t without risk, even when performed by a droid designed like AZ. But something nagged at the back of his mind, like a child very softly tugging at a parent’s clothing for attention. He couldn’t ignore it forever.

The truth was, Fives wasn’t an idiot either. Hell, he was one of the most caring brothers he’d met, and that included himself.

He sighed, rubbing his face roughly. “Gods, Echo’s gonna kill me for helping you.”

“Yeah.” His friend’s voice sounded hollow at the mention of his batchmate. Probably not the kindest thing Sevenset could have brought up. “AZ, lead the way,” he said.

The droid whirred as he rose higher up the ladder, and Sevenset let Fives follow him before bringing up the rear. They climbed about three levels before the droid cut left. They followed doggedly, turning a few times before dropping back down two more levels. Finally, AZ paused, hovering over a hatch.

“Is this it?” Fives asked, squatting down.

The droid appeared to nod. “Yes. This is a hatch to the D-wing of the medical building. As of now, I can detect no noise on the other side of this hatch.”

Fives hesitated briefly, then took a breath, handing off his stolen blaster to Sevenset so he could hop down to open the hatch. He twisted the yellow wheel slowly, trying to minimize the noise. When it was finally open, he let it down as slowly as he could, and Sevenset reached out to grab the back of his utility belt to steady him as he leaned down.

“All clear,” he reported. He sat back up, then lowered himself down.

AZ followed him, and Sevenset tossed down the blaster so he could have his hands free to follow them. AZ let them into one of the medical examination rooms. It all went so smoothly, Sevenset found himself momentarily baffled. Wouldn’t the Kamino Guard have troopers posted at every emergency tunnel entrance in the whole medical wing? Weird.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” Fives said, removing his helmet and setting both it and his blaster on a tray beside the bed. Bed was a generous term. Table was better. He lifted himself onto it.

“And you’re sure this is the thing to do?” he asked again. He already knew the answer, he just couldn’t help it.

“It’s just gonna be a scan and maybe some surgery.”

“Yeah, it’s the maybe I’m worried about, Fives,” he said, watching AZ pull up the scanning machine and begin to program it.

“Knowing what I know now about these chips,” the droid said, poking buttons on the touchscreen, “I do not need to scan at the atomic level. Due to the inorganic compounds present in these chips, a molecular examination should suffice.”

“Is that good?” Sevenset asked as Fives lay down.

“A molecular scan does not put as much strain on the subject.”

He nodded vaguely. So it was good.

AZ brought the ring-shaped scanner around to position it around Fives’ head. “Please remain still and do not speak during the examination,” he said, sounding routine. “Close your eyes and keep them closed until told to open them.”

Fives did as instructed, and Sevenset stood at the foot of the table to watch. AZ tapped a button to begin the examination, and the ring-shaped machine whirred into action, a slow green-ish blue light beginning to travel around the inner circumference.

The exam was probably pretty short, considering the number of actions AZ completed during the time, but the seconds felt like they were moving like drying mud to Sevenset. The droid hovered next to a screen on the side of the room, where a diagram or image of Fives’ brain was slowly developing. After what was probably a minute or so, a red dot appeared on the screen.

AZ hummed a short note of… what, surprise? Acknowledgement? Droids… so hard to parse. Then he flew back over to the scanning device and tapped a few buttons to power it down. When the interior light had fully faded out, he moved the device away.

“You may open your eyes,” he said cheerfully.

Fives blinked his eyes open slowly, looking groggy all of a sudden. Sevenset moved to his side.

“You alright, mate?” he asked, holding out a hand.

“Bit of a headache,” Fives admitted. “But it’s fading.” He took his hand and hauled himself up into a sitting position. Sevenset eyed him carefully. “What’s the word, AZ?”

“By ‘the word,’ I assume you mean the results of the scan?”

“Yes.”

“They are identical to clone Tup,” the droid chirped, moving to the side so Fives and Sevenset could see the screen. “The same tumor appears in the same location in your brain.”

“Sithspit,” Fives hissed, rubbing his head. “Can you take it out?”

“Of course.”

“Then do it,” he said, resuming his previous position on the table.

As AZ began preparing, Sevenset’s comm went off, so he stepped away to answer it. It was Trainer Tumun.

“I have Tup secure,” she reported. “Someone is in transit to collect him and get him to safety.”

He looked up to Fives, who had turned his head to listen. “Hear that?”

Fives nodded, a brief wave of relief washing over his features before he settled back to let AZ begin.

Sevenset turned away. He was fine with blood, but he had no desire to see the inside of Fives’ skull. “Thank you, ma’am. We know the one-eighteenth can be trusted with this.”

There was a pause, since Tumun hadn’t known of their affiliations with Nero’s battalion. But, time was waning, and she must have thought better than to waste any by starting down that winding path. “If I can, I’ll let you know when they have him secure.”

“Much appreciated, ma’am.”

“Hopefully, the ruckus I caused can help you and Fives get the information you need.”

He nodded. “Absolutely. We’re working on it.”

“I wish you the best. Good hunting, ARCs.”

The comm disconnected. He could still hear AZ working, so he kept his attention firmly on the set of window controls below the oval window separating this room from the next. Currently, it was opaque, but the buttons underneath could turn it transparent or translucent if so desired. He was impressed by his own ability to not mess with them.

Mainly because his mind was too busy reeling over the information he’d learned in such a short time.

Somehow, both Fives and Tup had little semi-organic chips in their brains that had been implanted by… someone, who knew whom that had been, and that was uncomfortable enough. But Tup’s had looked… sick. He’d lost his mind, almost as literally as a sentient being could, and that alone sent chills down his spine. If more clones had these chips… then way more of them than just Tup were capable of outright murdering Jedi.

Or anyone.

“The operation is complete.”

He jolted. How much time had passed? He hadn’t checked the time before. Shit. How long had they stayed in one place? That was dangerous. Fives was waking up. AZ held a second glass compartment, examining the contents.

“Well?” he asked, walking over to put hands on Fives to remind himself he was okay.

“This is new,” AZ said. “The chip removed from clone trooper Tup was severely degraded in function and structure, but this one is entirely healthy.”

Fives groaned quietly, his hand rising to his head, only to bump into the metal device still implanted there. His hair had been shorn around it, making for a rather unsightly haircut. Maybe he could pass it off as a fade if he shaved the other side to match?

“Okay, so… Tup was an accident?” he said. “He didn’t mean it. He was sick.”

“That is the most likely scenario,” AZ replied, his body rotating around so he could place Fives’ chip in his storage compartment with Tup’s.

“What are the chances this thing’s in my head too?” Sevenset dared to ask.

“Given you are from the same generation of clones,” the droid said, tapping his fingers together with something resembling nervousness, “the chances are not exactly… low.”

He’d already suspected as much. Judging by the look on Fives’ face, he felt the same. Nice of him to not share it until Sevenset was ready. Alright, well, if he was ever going to have brain surgery, having it on his own terms seemed like a great time for it.

Holding out a hand to Fives again, he helped him off the table, giving a look that asked if he was alright, and receiving a nod in return. “Might as well mark brain surgery off my bucket list,” he said, hoisting himself onto the table.

“You haven’t been scanned,” Fives said, gesturing to the machine. “You don’t know if you even have this thing.”

Sevenset rolled his eyes, desperate to cover up the anxiety rising in his system. “Yeah, I think we all kinda know it’s gonna be there. Better to just save myself the headache, right? We’ve been here too long as it is.”

Fives couldn’t argue with the last point. The longer they stayed in one place, the more likely it was someone would find them. They needed to move, and if this got it done faster, then so be it. His friend looked a little helpless for a split second before nodding and stepping back.

“Are you sure?” AZ asked. “Without a scan, I will have to estimate where the cells are located—”

“And you’re a smart droid,” Sevenset cut in, lying back on the table. “You’ll do fine. It’s probably exactly where Fives’ was. We are clones, after all, right?”

After a second or two of processing, the droid nodded. “Very well.” He flew over to a barely visible cabinet underneath the display screens at the back wall, and retrieved what supplies he would need. Normally, they would have been laid out, but he’d used them on Fives already. He held up a large syringe which Sevenset was not thrilled about. “This will not hurt—”

“Yes, it will,” Fives cut him off.

“It will only hurt a bit,” the droid corrected, and Sevenset braced himself.

It did hurt. Quite a bit, actually, like injecting fire under the skin of his neck. But, after only a few seconds, the pain had faded, and the rest of the world faded out as well.

-scene break-

He woke up to his comm blinking at him, telling him a new message had arrived. As he had suspected, AZ held a sample identical to the one that had come out of Fives' head. Holy Force. Once AZ gave him the all-clear, he opened his comm, scanning it quickly as he and Fives readied themselves for whatever came next. There wasn't time to process what had just happened.

“Where are we going next?” he asked,his eyes fixed on the thing AZ had taken out of his head. Gross. It made his skin crawl like an itchy sweater he couldn’t take off.

“The incubation rooms,” AZ answered, flying over to the door. “We must find out how many clones have these implanted chips, and when they are implanted into your cell structure.”

Sevenset nodded. “Alright. Let’s visit some tubies.” He paused to open his comm. “Uh… I take it we’re keeping our activities unknown to your batcher?” he asked.

“Please,” Fives said, looking terribly guilty.

He started typing a reply as they hurried out of the room.

CrispyDomino: Rex says he’s on his way back, how’s Fives?

RedBoiiiii: peachy!

CrispyDomino: oh good

CrispyDomino: do you know how Tup’s doing?

RedBoiiiii: uhh more tests?

d0nut man: aw that’s too bad :(

d0nut man: might it have anything to do with the 118th’s unplanned visit to Kamino right now?

CrispyDomino: What.

RedBoiiii: I’m sure it’s nothing Zero

Double Trouble: guys he just used capitalization correctly…

RedBoiiii: dosido i do no t need this right now

DEATH: And where is Fives in this conversation?

RedBoiiiii: he doesnt have his comm

RedBoiiiii: they had to clear him had to get his kit off

CrispyDomino: Do you know he’s okay?

RedBoiiiii: like i said, peachy

d0nut man: uh yeah, i wasn’t joking about an unplanned stop in the Kamino system.

d0nut man: what are we doing here

DEATH: I have a terrible feeling about this

DressedtotheNines: Please don’t say that, every time Kenobi says that, bad stuff happens

Leafs: Wait, Echo left Sevenset in charge of Fives?

CrispyDomino: Yes

Loopy: wait why

CrispyDomino: Bc I assume he got to ARC trooper SOMEHOW

RedBoiiiii: look hes’ fine!!! I’m still with him!!

DEATH: Nero’s hiding something. The 118th is definitely going to Kamino for crimes.

CrispyDomino: CRIMES???

d0nut man: oooohh yay I hope it’s kidnapping :)

d0nut man: that’s my favorite crime

d0nut man: been in a high crimes and misdemeanors kinda mood lately

Leafs: I have so many questions I do not want answers for.

CrispyDomino: Okay okay, since I’m about to go into another firefight

CrispyDomino: I am choosing to believe the crimes and my batcher are unrelated.

RedBoiiiii: good choice

Double Trouble: they are so related

Loopy: yeah, definitely

Submarine: Hey… probably a bad time to ask, but is anyone else going on leave soon?

d0nut man: well we were suPPOSED TO

Loopy: not official leave, just stopping by 000 for a restock n stuff, but yeah

Leafs: I do have leave soon, yes

DressedtotheNines: Yeah, we’re here already, set for a couple weeks

DEATH: Get some noodles. I’m sure Mira and Saleha will be overjoyed to see you.

RedBoiiiii: aw that’s actually sweet!

DEATH: They haven’t met you yet, don’t get your hopes up.

RedBoiiiii: :/

RedBoiiiii: Hey sir

RedBoiiiii: Is it true you and cmdr bacara invented Knife Monopoly when drunk the first time?

Double Trouble: THEY DID WHAT NOW???

Submarine: Oh is that why so many Novas play that game?

Leafs: Wait it’s an actual game?? With knives??

Loopy: it better have knives, i’ll be disappointed if it doesn’t

CrispyDomino: Sevenset you are supposed to be watching my brother

CrispyDomino: not tempting Death himself

DressedtotheNines: I … I’m not sure what to think

d0nut man: I think Seven’s about to vanish under mysterious circumstances

Submarine: Yes, it does involve knives. I’ve never played though.

DEATH: Echo, I have it on good authority that the kid you sent to Kamino is in good hands

CrispyDomino: WHOSE AUTHORITY

DEATH: My old trainer

RedBoiiiii: she didn’t mention anything else…?

DEATH: She told me everything.

DEATH: But for now, all these laser brains need to know is it is being handled.

CrispyDomino: There’s an EVERYTHING???

RedBoiiiii: an Everything that is fine, yes!

-scene break-

All of them.

Every single clone.

Sevenset looked from the glowing green lights on the display screen to the tower of growth tubes before them.

All of them had these things in their heads, waiting for activation. Activation for what? AZ hadn’t been able to figure out what these bioengineered things could be used for. The only data point they had was Tup, and he had been whisked off somewhere by Trainer Tumun. Hopefully.

“So that means…” Fives said, pulling off his helmet, “we’re all part of this. Whatever reason these things exist, it… it affects all of us.”

“It would appear so, yes.” Even AZ looked as surprised as he could.

The sudden sound of a door hissing as it slid open made them all spin around, Fives automatically raising his blaster.

Kark.

It was Nala Se, one of the head doctors on Kamino, and a distinctly unpleasant person. She approached with raised hands.

“Stay where you are,” Fives told her sharply. Sevenset wanted to edge closer to him, just in case he did something really stupid, but he didn’t move.

“Why are you doing this?” the doctor asked.

“Take a guess,” he shot back before Fives could. “You thought you could cover up putting bioengineered hardware into our brains, and no one would notice? No one would get curious?”

The doctor ignored or otherwise dismissed the blatant threat Fives posed, and continued to approach them with her hands visible. “Curious about what?” she asked peaceably.

Sevenset moved to the side, revealing the display screen and gesturing at it. “This?” he demanded. Fives flanked the doctor and corralled her towards the screen. “What is it?”

“That is a structural inhibitor chip,” she explained, her voice never changing. It always freaked him out that Kaminoans had little to no inflection. Like somehow, their scientific findings had placed them above emotions. “It is supposed to prevent you from being aggressive,” she went on, looking over her shoulder at Fives, who still had a blaster on her. “Like your source, Jango Fett.”

Sevenset laughed. Dry and cynical. “Less aggressive?” he said. “I’m sorry, have you met some of the Alphas? And who thinks of putting an inhibitor on aggression in soldiers, eh?”

“Jedi Master Sypho Dias instructed us to introduce these structures during the growth cycle,” Nala Se replied evenly.

Fives blinked, casting a glance at Sevenset. “The Jedi did this?”

“No way.” Sevenset shook his head. “If the Jedi wanted this done—if they were the ones to blueprint this thing—then why did General Ti have no idea about it? She’s been here for ages.”

Nala Se’s enormous eyes narrowed. “I do not pretend to know the workings of the Jedi.”

“The Jedi wouldn’t do this,” he repeated, pointing to the tower of tubies next to them.

“It is not uncommon to put inhibitors in clones.”

AZ had spun his body around and dug out Tup’s chip. “I have analyzed clone Tup’s inhibitor chip. Apparently, it has failed.”

“Until this point,” Nala Se said, glaring at Fives, “there has never been a problem.”

“Well, I specialize in making my own problems,” Sevenset told her, taking a step toward her.

“And you’ve got a big one right now,” Fives growled, nudging the nose of his blaster into the small of the doctor’s back for emphasis.

Sevenset saw the door open this time, allowing General Ti and a few Kamino Guards into the room. Fives darted around Nala Se, keeping her between them and the new threats.

“Don’t move!” one of the guards ordered as they ran.

They came to a stop upon realizing the doctor was between them and their targets. General Ti ignited her lightsaber. “Drop your weapon,” she demanded.

“Did you know about this?” Fives replied, jerking his head to indicate the display screen. “The inhibitor chips the Jedi ordered them to put in our brains?”

She surveyed them, calculating. “I have no recollection of any one of my Order informing me of such things. Do you have evidence?”

AZ whirred forward, still holding Tup’s chip. “Right here,” he said. “This is the chip taken from clone trooper Tup. As you can see, it appears blackened and rotten. This sickness caused the malfunction.”

“But what caused the sickness?” the Jedi wanted to know.

“We don’t know,” Sevenset admitted.

“It doesn’t matter!” Fives argued. “What matters is it happened. And it could happen again. More clones could turn against their Jedi, or their brothers. The entire Republic Army could be compromised if someone figured out a way to activate these chips on purpose!”

That was something Sevenset had not considered yet. It hadn’t occurred to him that these chips might have a purpose outside of… well, they didn’t know yet. What if there was a manual activation? Or a secret code?

“There is no proof of any of this!” Nala Se interjected, finally showing some of the frustration she must have been feeling for a while. “This is an isolated incident. Besides, when you removed Tup’s chip, his health deteriorated immensely.”

Rude.

“We’re fine, aren’t we?” Fives said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“What does that matter?”

“We removed our chips as well,” Sevenset said, pointing to the bandage over the incision on his skull.

AZ held up the chips. “Here they are, very healthy.”

“Then you are both threats and should be considered dangerous,” Nala Se said sharply. “Master Jedi, they should be terminated immediately.”

“I am not a piece of kriffing hardware!” Fives exclaimed, and Sevenset had to agree with him on his anger.

“We’re ARC troopers,” he added. “We’ve laid our lives on the line for the Republic countless times, and you want to terminate us because we found out about your chips?”

“Because you have removed your chips,” Nala Se hissed at him. “And technically, you are both property of the Kaminoan government.”

Sevenset blinked, honestly shocked. He knew the Kaminoans weren’t to be trusted, nor did they place any real value in a trooper’s life, but to hear it like that? To actually be labeled property? He’d have gotten no better on Nal Hutta. Or Zyggeria! Were these chips… they couldn’t be slave chips, could they?

“Correction.” General Ti’s strong voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. She extinguished her blade and lowered the hilt to her side. “Technically, they are ‘property’ of the Republic.”

“They are a danger to themselves and to others,” Nala Se argued, her small head swaying on her long neck as she struggled to remain civilized. “They must be terminated.”

“Oh, for Maker’s sake,” Sevenset spat. “Just say killed. It’s what you mean, right? You wanna kill us? Don’t hide behind words as long as your neck.”

“I believe,” said General Ti, cutting off the doctor’s reply, “their fates are for me to decide.” She lifted her chin. “Fives, you are coming with me to Coruscant. Sevenset will accompany him. You will tell your story to the Chancellor.”

The Chancellor? He was going to see the Chancellor himself? Not an aide, not Mas Amedda, but the actual, real-live Chancellor, who got his robe unravelled by Commander Thire that one time?

Nala Se finally moved, harshly pushing away the blaster Fives had been holding half-heartedly at her chest. “Master Jedi—”

“Sounds great, when do we leave?” Sevenset interrupted, hurrying to get ahead of her.

He could feel Nala Se’s enormous grey eyes boring into the back of his head.

“The chancellor wanted all the data on Tup, correct?” General Ti continued, a confident light in her eyes as she typed something into her comm unit. “We’re sending the data, Tup’s tumor, and the two other samples, and Fives and Sevenset will go with them.”

The Kaminoan doctor drew herself up to her full, impressive height. “Then I am going with them.”

Oh, please no. Sevenset had exactly zero desire to spend several hours in hyperspace with her anywhere near him. He saw Fives felt similarly, and he turned his gaze to the general, hoping to communicate just how much he didn’t want this to happen.

But her hands must have been tied. She narrowed her eyes slightly, but agreed. “As you wish, Doctor.”

The door opened yet again, admitting a small team of Kamino Guards bearing two stretchers between them. Sevenset watched Fives sit down on one before doing the same on the other.

“Thank you, General,” Fives said as the Jedi began to turn away. “For believing us.”

“It’s not a matter of belief, Fives,” she told him, her face impassible. “It is simply the right thing to do.”

…Jedi.

In watching her leave, Sevenset was caught off guard by one of the guards approaching him with a syringe in his hand. He instantly shied away from it, holding a hand up. “Whoa, hold on. What is that?” He looked over to Fives, seeing him rub his neck as another guard walked away from him.

“A weak sedative.”

“I don’t want a sedative,” he said. “I don’t care if it’s weaker than a day-old porg.”

“It’s preventative.”

“Against?” he asked, a little flummoxed. “What, you think I’m gonna jump up and escape? Escape where?”

“It’s not my call,” the guard replied, sounding a little apologetic.

He glanced up at Nala Se, whose back was to him as she followed the general out of the room. Probably standard procedure. Probably. He still didn’t want it.

“Don’t give it to me, or I will jump up and do something about it,” he said, then lay back on the stretcher. “Now get going.”

The guard looked confused, standing there without purpose. But eventually, the guard manning the stretcher just shook his head and turned him toward the doors. Good. His method of wasting people’s time until they gave him what he wanted was still effective. Now… on to Coruscant.

What will happen on Coruscant?? What will the chancellor do?? Will Nala Se finally hit her head on a doorframe?? All that and MORE next month ;) Unless I can't help myself and I post it for the Number Lads 1 year anniversary this month In addition: Maral Tumun is another OC by my friend 23-bears and me. I drew her during OC-tober last year, here.

@23-bears @theultimatesandwich @mercurydancer @persimminwrites @beskarmermaid @darth-void @rndmpeep

[miloscat]

[Review] Sonic Lost World (Wii U)

Super Sonic Galaxy!

After Colours, Sonic Team went all out on Generations, refining the 3D boost formula successfully (I've played Generations before so it's not included in my current run through). This is now the era where Colours had somehow been successful and Sega were all in on supporting the Wii U... for the moment. Racing Transformed had special Gamepad modes, and soon Rise of Lyric and the Winter Olympics game would be exclusives for the system, and meanwhile the big new platformer from Sonic Team got a Wii U release and a 3DS companion game by Dimps [to be reviewed later]. In a couple of years time when the writing was on the wall for the Wii U, Sega would port Lost World to the PC, but it's a Wii U game through and through.

On its home platform, Lost World can only be played with the Gamepad. The Wisps, returning from Colours, are controlled with gyro and touchscreen [optionally, thank goodness], along with between-level minigames. Otherwise the second screen shows the usual HUD elements of time/lives/rings etc., your level progress, hints, active missions, and a half-baked inventory system. It's an attempt at dual-screen gaming but I can see how it could all be reworked or moved to a pause screen easily enough.

Otherwise Lost World represents a complete departure from all prior Sonic games. They've totally rethought Sonic's physics, the controls, the whole gameplay paradigm, all in the name of... chasing Mario Galaxy's success, I guess. Now if you're challenging something so well-received, you need to do it well. Lost World doesn't.

The gravity gimmick is the headline feature, with 3D spaces often taking the form of long cylinders or small spheres that freely rotate as you move through them. 2D sequences have some measure of curving as well, but they're usually straightforward sidescrollers. To be perfectly honest I think the whole thing is implemented better here than in Galaxy itself as it doesn't push it too far, keeping it as mainly an aesthetic/structural feature. The returning Wisps remain gimmicky but they actually managed to make most of them work in 3D this time, whether it's old colours or new ideas. They're maybe a step up from their implementation in Colours itself and have less of a focus which also helps.

As for Sonic's movement, he has a run button now, maybe for the first time? The fact that he doesn't conserve momentum at all feels odd but is probably for the best with the type of platforming required. A parkour system is supposed to complement this by letting you run up walls and grab ledges; this is a good platforming crutch but often will misfire, only making things awkward and interrupting flow instead of facilitating it. There's also a wallrunning mechanic and dedicated parkour stunt button, neither of which I ever found useful, intuitive, or fun.

Sonic can spin dash which is used maybe a few times, and there are for some reason two separate homing attack buttons: one is a kick and can't snap you to the ubiquitous bumper launchers, the other is chargeable and combo-able and the key to doing any damage to bosses. The game didn't adequately explain this so I got through the first world or so only using the kick, which made the first boss miserable and janky... but I thought that the game was just like that! In the end though it still was a bit like that.

The game plays out one a Tiny Planet-esque landmass called Lost Hex, which is visually made up of floating hexagons. Well, it is in the map screen anyway, I don't think this really carries over into any levels... It consists of your typical platformer environments skinned over the same core gameplay: plain, desert, jungle, ice, lava, etc. but everything looks quite nice and unlike many other 3D Sonic games it runs consistently smoothly. Individual levels do a decent job varying the biomes, while some bonus levels get a bit more surreal and there's even a truncated boss rush themed after Sonic Team's Saturn classic Nights Into Dreams. The Wii U version also has some fun extras in the form of a short 2D level with a Yoshi's Story aesthetic that plays like a quite bland Yoshi's Island, and a Zelda level with a sort of hybrid Ocarina/Skyward Sword aesthetic that has a mini-open zone Hyrule Field and a sort of mini-dungeon that reskins Lost World's "tube interior" gameplay style. Modders have added these to the PC version so there's no reason to miss out.

The story is building off Colours, with the same writers returning with their weak jokes and shaky characterisation. This time there's more interaction between Eggman and Sonic as they're forced to team up; I like the concept although their dynamic plays out weirdly. Orbot and Cubot are a bit more fleshed out, and Tails is... participating. Amy and Knuckles exist, if only to call Sonic on Facetime twice to try and instil some stakes. Meanwhile the villain squad represent a new nadir for the franchise. The six Zeti have weird cartoonish designs and offensively stock personalities. For example, one of them is big and fat and likes eating and always talks about eating. Funny! Another one is the token girl; she is vain because she's a girl and get this, because she's a girl she's obsessed with her hair and makeup! Wow! Somebody get these guys a Bafta!

For the first time since I think Adventure 2, the animals that can be rescued from defeating Badniks have a gameplay purpose, even if it's just unlocking the final act of each zone. But they make for a persistent counter that marks your progress and a reward for minigames. In a level your rewards are Red Ring collectibles that unlock more minigame stages (these got old for me about halfway through) and lives. You can quickly go through lives on some sections but the game also throws a lot of them at you, and the DLC stages are a quick and effective source of life and animal farming.

Omochao's missions are a nice bonus for doing various actions, but you can only hold three at a time and I spent half the game with the same uncleared set because I couldn't figure out how "ceiling running" worked or be bothered to replay older levels that uniquely had certain kinds of Wisps. These reward items that can be redeemed mid-level but aren't very useful, and again there's a limit of five. Get any more and the game tediously prompts you to discard it or send it to another player via the now defunct Miiverse feature. Other mission rewards consist of various cosmetics for the co-op feature, which I think is similar to the Mario Galaxy "younger sibling" type of "multiplayer". And speaking of this era of Nintendo, Lost World also has the patronising "skip ahead a checkpoint" prompt if you die too many times, which I only ever activated by accident thus cheating myself out of gameplay. Thanks game.

The soundtrack by my new favourite person Tomoya Ohtani ranges from pleasant to "rivals Rooftop Run", which is high praise. I was bummed to discover that there is no new main vocal track this time as those have been highlights of his soundtracks, but Forces and later Frontiers make up for it by having tons of them.

Totally reworking your core gameplay concept is a big gamble which can either pay off (eg. Unleashed Day stages), or it can backfire (eg. Unleashed Night stages) [your mileage may vary, of course]. In the case of Lost World, on balance it's more the latter. There's certainly potential here but it's a shame to seemingly throw away the progress that had been made in getting to Generations. At least they picked that back up and hit a sweet spot for me with Forces, which makes Lost World a one-off that gets consigned to the "failed experiments" pile with the Storybook games. I guess over the long term the franchise is constantly reinventing itself and I respect that, but they can't all be winners. But before we dispense with Lost World completely, there's a 3DS version created by Dimps that I must investigate! Until then...!

[theghostpinesmusic]

Alright! I walked to the taphouse and am sitting in the sun and wind on the patio drinking a really good imperial cider so it's time to keep writing about fucking GOOSE.

We're on to the second night in Dillon now, 8/17/22, also known as the show that I attended after getting up at 5am, driving an hour up into the Rockies, and summiting three 14ers before driving back down, wolfing down a huge burrito, and getting into the venue right before the band took the stage.

I watched a little of this show sitting down on the lawn because my knees gave up. There wasn't much dancing. From me, at least.

This was a ridiculous show. Probably better than the first night. Definitely better than the band's Red Rocks debut the next night (more on that later). There was a great "California Magic" opener for those of us who traveled to Colorado (I live in Oregon but can see California from my front window). There was an incredible, almost thirty-minute "Borne" into "Dr. Darkness" in the first set. The second set opened with a twenty-plus-minute evil-disco-groove version of "Wysteria Lane," and also had a one-off "It's My Life" cover (which was great, no matter what anyone else says), a blissed-out take on "Rosewood Heart," an absolutely filthy "Rockdale," and one of my all-time favorite "Madhuvan"s, which is saying something considering it's my favorite song from my favorite band.

But, again, none of those are easily found on YouTube. What is there is this cover of "Mississippi Half-Step," which was the first set closer. There isn't a huge jam to speak of here, per se, but this was a cool moment in the show that I thought was worth writing about anyway.

So, after the rainy, cold first night in Dillon, the weather during the second night's show was amazing. The view across the lake and of the surrounding mountains was clear, it was sunny but not too hot, and with good weather the venue instantly became one of my favorite places I'd ever seen a show. As a follow-up to a day of climbing in the mountains, the first set was amazing, and I was even happier than I usually am at a live show. I distinctly remember that at the moment the band launched into "Half-Step," a Grateful Dead cover and one of my absolute favorite covers that they do, a group of grizzly old dudes dressed in tie-dye hoodies with Dead stealies on them, who had been watching somewhat reservedly throughout the whole set, all started yelling and jumping up and down and hugging each other in sheer joy, just as the sun was starting to go down behind the mountains behind them. It was one of those randomly wonderful moments that happen sometimes at shows if you're paying attention, and remembering it makes me love this really well-played version of the song, even if it's not some twenty-minute jam that gets way out there.

I'm not going to do a typical write-up here, but a few observations from my re-watch of the tune...

Trevor's jacket is totally amazing. He needs to bring it back in '24.

I don't think I ever consciously realized that Peter plays guitar instead of keys on this song until just now. His solo at 1:22 is not necessarily his best, but it's fun.

I remember very clearly the crowd cheer at the lyric "...and pray for better weather" because we'd all been there the night before and were happy to finally see the sun.

At 6:00, the band moves from the outro of the song proper to an upbeat jam. Some fun interplay between Rick and Peter (and Trevor) here in the early going.

Jam starts to turn funky at 8:30, and this remains the direction for most of the rest of the tune. Those of us with really sore knees were doing our best to groove at this point. This reminds me a bit of a "Tumble" jam, with Peter adding the rhythm guitar foundation to Rick's soloing.

There's a great panning shot of what my view of the venue was starting at about 11:02.

This is a fantastic disco jam, but it's pretty one-dimensional, so I don't know that I have much else to add. There's a tension-building bit that starts at 14:20 and then the band blasts back into the "Half-Step" outro at 14:38. It's great, but doesn't necessarily require any deep analysis. A super high-energy jam from a great show. Check out both the "Borne" and "Wysteria Lane" for something crazier.

It's probably not in the cards at this point, but I'd love to go back to Dillon for Goose again some day.

[jeffgrant4real]

My Barbenheimer Experience

(I don’t think there are any spoilers here, just basic thoughts on the movies)

Saturday, July 22, 2023  7:23 PM

I guess I feel the need to type “Barbenheimer” even more this weekend so I figured I’d recap my busy Friday at the movies. It was definitely an experience and people need to know this information. Yes, this is important. 

WELL, I’m on the internet so I was aware of the Barbenheimer meme phenomenon and knew I’d see both movies at some point but didn’t make any plans until my friend BJ texted a week or 2 ago asking if I’d want to join he and 1 or 2 other people for the movie event of the year. It doesn’t take much to get me to watch movies so I said I was down. We got our tickets for a 10:45 showing of Oppenheimer on one of the XD screens at Tinseltown in Grapevine followed by Barbie at 5:30. Cool. 

So Friday rolls around and I drive the half hour over to the theater, which I don’t go to often these days but it was the main place I saw movies at in high school so it always makes me think of the late 90s when I go back. I remember Friday nights and teenagers driving fancy cars their parents bought them. #memories Anyway…

I met up with BJ in the lobby as he waited for his friend Michael. I got a large popcorn and a bottled water, my usual lately. I found our seats and went for a successful pee and sat back down like 30 seconds before the movie started. Now, to be clear I think all I knew about Oppenheimer, the actual person, was that he was the father of the atomic bomb. I was more going to see the new Christopher Nolan movie than because I’m a history buff but I was glad to have a chance to learn more. 

The screen was gigantic, like 3 or 4 stories high, and the filmmaking and acting were top notch but there was more talking than I expected and for some reason I kept losing focus and just blanking out for whole scenes, which of course were important to remember later, so I kept feeling like it was going over my head. I think I’m going through a sort of personal Christopher Nolan existential crisis where I can’t tell if I’m a fan anymore. I respect and admire his ambition but I’ve been having a difficult time hooking into the stories in his movies. I think maybe he’s smarter than me and I feel kinda dumb. Yesterday, I kept telling myself that it was an important story and that I should pay attention better but I just couldn’t chill out and enjoy the movie like a normal person. Maybe I was thinking too much about how I was going to watch another movie afterwards, I’m not sure. I just know that as the movie kept going I got noticeably sleepier, which doesn’t typically happen with me at movies. Like I kinda wanted to take a nap even though I got decent sleep the night before. 

All this to say I had a pretty lukewarm feeling about the movie by the end of it, which I’m pretty sure isn’t the normal response; most seem to be blown away by it. I’m seriously not sure what my deal is because I think it was a good movie and I’d recommend it, but I was just sorta bored if I’m being honest. I’m sure it’ll be nominated for Best Picture later and maybe I’ll revisit it but I just wasn’t feeling it much on the first viewing. 

Anyway, after it was over we walked out and the other 2 seemed more positive than I was. We had 3 hours to kill before Barbie and Michael went home so I hung out with BJ. We went to his house where his wife and 2 of his daughters were and it was hilarious to me that we were leaving them soon after to go watch Barbie with 2 other dudes (a 4th, Codey, joined us). 

If you asked me before we went which of the 2 movies I was looking forward to the most it would 1,000 times be Barbie. I’m a big fan of Greta Gerwig’s previous 2 movies Lady Bird and Little Women and was excited to see what she would do with a giant Hollywood movie. I don’t have much of a connection to Barbie as a toy but it’s an interesting pop cultural thing to play around with and the trailers and promotional material made it look like a blast. Also, her partner Noah Baumbach co-wrote the script with her, and he’s a director I enjoy, as well as his writing collaborations with Wes Anderson, (The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and Fantastic Mr. Fox) so Barbie has been in the “stick it in my veins”-zone for me for a while. 

Anyway, I was disappointed with one thing going in. Where we got to see Oppenheimer on a gigantic screen, Barbie was playing in one of those older, longer auditoriums and we were sitting near the back so the screen was maybe 8 times tinier. I knew the movie was going to be dynamite visually so I wished we could’ve been closer to the screen (maybe I’ll see it again just for that reason). I didn’t mention this earlier but ALL DAY LONG we were passing by groups of people dressed in pink and it seemed like over half the people in our screening were outfitted for the movie, which added a fun extra layer to the experience. BJ and I thought about going to Target between the movies to get pink shirts but didn’t make it. 

I thought the movie was incredibly entertaining and creative and super weird for a big studio tentpole, which made me like it even more. I don’t know how Gerwig got away with so much of what happened. I can see a lot of people not enjoying it, but I admired how boldly it was its own thing; it felt very punk rock for a movie that’s going to make boatloads of dollars. It reminded me of The LEGO Movie in how it used the IP in a fresh way and made an actual good movie out of a film that was probably put into production mainly to sell toys. The most impressive parts of Barbie to me were clearly the production design and the performances. I couldn’t believe how cool the sets and props looked and Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling could seriously, weirdly be nominated for Oscars for playing these toys. 

More than anything the movie reminded me of things like The Brady Bunch Movie in how it took a beloved, if dated, property and honored it while also satirizing what it stands for. I remember seeing that movie in the 90s when it came out and not getting it and thinking it wasn’t very good, but I rewatched it a few years ago and thought it was hilarious. Heh. 

If you haven’t seen Gerwig talk about the movie’s inspirations they’re pretty interesting. She’s cited The Wizard of Oz, The Truman Show, Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Singin’ in the Rain, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Rear Window and many others as references. It’s fun to think of the movie leading young, emerging cinephiles to some true classics. 

I’m glad I was able to see both movies on the same day and fulfill the meme but it was honestly a LOT and I don’t think I processed either one especially well. This was a special movie day though and I’m happy I got to participate. I think that’s about it. Thanks for reading.

SUBLIME!

[leahblackk]

Do you dare?

(Thanks to @writer-in-theory for this amazingly beautiful moodboard. I can’t thank you enough for this)

Summary: Spencer visits his favourite library, but then he sees a notebook with the title “do you dare?” that catches his attention… would he dare?

Warnings: none?

Taglist: @ssavanessa22, @all-tings-diego, @doctorspenceryeet, @cance1medaddy, @hey-dw, @demigirl2007, @matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @nomajdetective, @reidselle

If you wanna join my taglist please press the notebook 📕

Disclaimer: this fic is based on the Netflix show “Dash & Lily” which is also a book, whoever it’s not as exactly.

thanks to @reidselle for being my beta reader and for leaving such kind comments!

Spencer Reid, the young genius doctor did not consider himself as someone adventurous and someone who got out of his comfort zone as much, he liked the feeling of the known, of the routine, something he already knew, something he has experienced before. The feeling of trying new things gave him bad feelings, anxiety even.

Already saying this, he got out of work, thankfully without cases and he went to his favourite library, one ha hasnt had the chance to go after being busy with paperwork and cases at work, apparently criminals did not have free days, therefore, neither did they.

He hugged himself closer, the snow falling down the sky. The winter came along with the lights of Christmas, something Spencer was excited about; He loved Christmas like a little kid would. Even though he didn't have a great childhood he had good memories from this holiday. He remembers how the city would light up and there was music and Christmas carols everywhere. 

He sighs as he sees the light outside of the window of the library, books also being there to draw attention to the people who passed by.

When he entered the place, the sweet smell of old and new books made him feel like he was floating, and now there was no cold. 

“Good evening, doctor Reid,” the girl who was in the information desk greeted Spencer. The truth is, almost everyone knew him there. He spent half of his time taking it as his second home. 

Spencer does his typical smile, “Hello.”

The woman sweetly smiles, “Something interested in reading?” 

Spencer shakes his head, “I'm not sure really. Probably gonna read the same books,” he said. 

And that was because he had read half of the books that could be found in the library, and let's say the library wasn't as small as other people would think. From the outside it seems so, but once you enter a surprise would be shown.

Spencer smiles at the girl to then go to the shelves trying to find his next reading. He takes more than one book as he reads faster than other people, but there was a red notebook, not a book but a notebook between the other informative books. He frowns, they almost never place the books wrong. He takes the notebook and makes his way to the desk, but he sees the cover and its black messy words as if they were handwritten.

“Do you dare?” 

The frown still prominent, and curiosity takes place, he opens the book, one, two, three pages blank until the actual words appear.

What is better than a clue game, don't you think? I've left some clues for you, if you want them, turn the page. If you don't… put the notebook back on the shelf. 

Spencer, captivated by the narration, quickly turns the page.

So you decided to play, an interesting choice. Shall we begin?

Spencer, again, turns the page as fast as he can. He has never felt this curiosity within him, he wants to know more. As he turns the page he sees eight blank lines, apparently he has to write on them. His gaze goes down where the instructions are.

A coded message, you can decipher with the right books, only if you can find them. Simple rule; If you bother to use your phone while playing, put the notebook back on the shelf. 

Spencer chuckles, he doesn't like the Internet anyways. 

Your first clue requires good taste. Look for astronomy, especially something that might have cosmo on their title.

Spencer slightly opens his mouth to think about all the astronomy books he has read and knows that have cosmos in their title, but then he remembers; If the notebook is in this specific library, it means the book must be there as well.

He closes the notebook and makes his way to the astronomy section, one he loves going from time to time. He looks between the variety of books until he finds the one; Calculating the Cosmos; How mathematics unveils the Universe. 

He opens the notebook again, where's the code?

96/8/1-2

Spencer knows what that means. He opens the book on page 96 he looks for the fourth paragraph and looks for the first and second word. When he finds them, he takes his pen out of his pocket and writes on the lines.

There are

He can't help but frown, there are?

Now, this one is in ancient Greece, gods wikipedia. Maybe something that has fable on its cover?

He knows, the age of fable.

He walks to where he knows that book is and grabs it.

177/4/5-6

There are too many

He's getting closer to completing the sentence and his excitement cant stop growing and growing. 

Let's keep it with the Greeks shall we? What are your thoughts on the name Homer?

The odyssey, 727/3/2-3

There are too many lonely hours

I hope you know this one. Feminism, writing, music, romance, women. Rings a bell?

Little Women 23/7/38-39

There are too many lonely hours on Christmas

And without noticing, Spencer completed the sentence, yet the frown was still prominent on his forehead. 

He turns the page hoping to get some explanation, and there is one. He sits down on the floor, his back against the shelf, and carefully reads. 

Congratulations! You successfully completed the sentence.

A few rules before I explain that sentence. If you're not a boy older than twenty, please return the notebook back on the shelf, if you have used the internet even if I said not to, return the notebook back on the shelf, and if you're a creep… obviously return the notebook back on the shelf.

Now, you're probably wondering what I meant by that. We are a few weeks into December, also well known as Christmas month. The truth is, I can't stop thinking there are too many lonely hours in this month. You get your presents, you get all the things for the special date, you decorate, but sometimes there is this void that does not fill up, not even with the most beautiful house with the most beautiful decorations. Don't get me wrong, is not that i don't like Christmas, but people call it the happiest month, but you can see the sadness in people's eyes, the pain…There are too many lonely hours on Christmas even if you spend with your loved ones, there are too many lonely hours when you've done so much and you just don't know what else to do. Don't you ever get this feeling?

When is gonna happen is up to you. Let me know your feelings about Christmas, leave the notebook on the information desk and if I like your answer, you might hear from me.

Spencer sighs, and bites his lip. He grabs his pen once again and turns the page and starts writing. 

He closes the notebook with shaky hands, hoping they like his answer. He reads one, two, three times to make sure his answer is well written and explain what he wants to say. He sighs and puts his pen back where it belongs, standing up and walking to the information desk.

“Hi,” he nervously said. 

“Hi,” the girl turns around and sees the notebook in his hand. Her smile grows.

“Uh they told me to leave the notebook here?” 

The girl nods, “Yes, yes. She's gonna be happy to read your answer,” she takes the notebook and puts it in a drawer. Spencer smiles, she.  “Do you know her?” He can't help but want to know more about this mysterious girl.

“I'm not sure if i can tell you about her… but she's nice, and pretty i promise, “ Spencer chuckles and nods.

“Okay i uh… I'll be back then,” the girl nods and Spencer waves goodbye. 

He leaves the library nervous and goes home just the same, thinking about the mysterious girl and hoping and wishing to the universe for her to answer back.

Y/n made her way back to the library excited when her cousin told her someone answered her notebook. She thought no one would even see it, but thanks to the universe everything worked in her favour. She held her cardigan closer to her body watching her converse move on pilot mode. 

She entered the library and sighed, the beautiful and usual warmth gave her a hug, taking the cold of the streets out of her bones. 

“Y/n you're not gonna believe it,” her cousin approached with the notebook in her hand, “Hes-” but before she could say more, Y/n shut her up. 

“No! I don't wanna know…” she said, grabbing the book. 

“Why?” 

“I want to get to know him through his words, through the notebook, besides it would be cheating,” Y/n explained, her cousin nodded and she smiled going to her little spot to read what he had to say.

Hello, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid… maybe it is a little unfair you knowing who I am and me not knowing who you are, but I just want you to know I'm not a creep and you're safe with me. May I mention how this might be a little dangerous to do? But I don't wanna ruin the mood. I read your words, and I totally agree. My feelings about Christmas are various. Sometimes I feel joy. I have good memories about this holiday, my mom used to read all the classic books and sing Christmas Carols to me, but since I grew up, I am either working or I don't wanna spend Christmas with my friends. They all have a family they have to return to at the end of the day. A wife, kids… I have none of that, just my books and it is rather sad, but I guess that's the life I chose to live. Sometimes it can be stressful. I hope my answer is enough for you , and for me to hear about you. 

If, i have the amazing opportunity for you to answer back, I would like for you to answer this question. 

What makes you feel less lonely?

With love and curiosity, SR. 

She smiled at his words, it felt like she could hear his voice while she read. She imagined the person he might be… a doctor. Why was a doctor reading and participating in her silly little game? She did not know, yet it excited her to know more about this mystery man. 

She remembers how she felt lonely this Christmas, how she saw her coworkers leave and brag about the perfect Christmas with their respective families…It wasn't like she was not happy about them, of course she was! They deserve the best… but didn't she deserve the best as well? 

She shakes her head and turns the page ready to answer his question, her heart squeezes with excitement because he's participating as well. 

She rants and rants on the pages explaining her feelings to this unknown man but she feels like she knows him, maybe it is the hope of finding this true soulmate she has been searching for, or maybe because he gave her the chance to open up, and she gives him the chance as well. 

“I'm gonna leave the notebook between the greek mythology books, tell him is there, okay?” Y/n says. 

Her cousin just nods, and Y/n goes to her home, laying on bed thinking about him. 

Spencer first thing in the morning goes to the library, the curiosity not letting him go to work first. His heart jumps up and down with excitement, and his hands sweat, he doesn't know why he's so nervous but he honestly doesn't pay as much attention. 

He opens the door, the girl in the information desk there as always, and Spencer makes his way, before he asks the question, she answers with a smile, “Between the Greek mythology books.”

Spencer smiles, “Thank you.”

He makes his way there, playing with the end of his satchel, and he sees the notebook. Without thinking more, he grabs it and reads through. 

Hello, Spencer. Thank you for being so thoughtful and kind to give me your name and tell me about you. A doctor, huh? I would never even imagine I'd be talking through a notebook with a doctor, is not that is bad but i just never imagine it, it makes things more interesting though. 

Your question made me very happy, I'm glad you're participating just the same.

What makes me feel less lonely?

Would you do me a favour? Maybe consider this a dare even. 

Libraries are one thing that makes me feel less lonely, so many characters and some of them you can relate to, even. My favourite books also come from Greek mythology. I might say I am a very passionate fan. There is this National Gallery of Art in the constitution ave, here in DC. They have beautiful Greek mythology paintings, you might go and once you are there answer my question.

If you could relate to one Greek god, who would it be?

Spencer happily smiles, looking down at his watch. He still has time. 

He makes his way out of the library and takes the metro, while being there reading her words over and over, looking at her handwriting. He didn't even think of profiling her, he does that all the time, it's something that's there in his brain, but no, he wants to meet her through her words, to know what she has to say. 

He still doesn't know her name, he wonders the way she would sound saying his and without noticing, he arrives. 

He goes directly to the mythology art, he looks at every single detail in the canvas, the colors, the characters. He knows about mythology, but one of the paintings draws his attention. The name of the painting is “Apollo pursuing Daphne.”

He knows Apollo, of course he does. It has been Spencer's favourite Greek god, he never knew why, but now she made him see. 

Apollo being the greek god of light, music, healing in other stuff. One of the Olympians. His myth with Daphne wasn't as romantic, rather tragic. He remembers reading about how Apollo was mocking the god of love, Eros, and the god watching him do so. He threw two arrows, one of gold and one of lead. One to Apollo, who fell so hard for Daphne, and one for Daphne, that made her hate Apollo. 

Daphne in her desperate state, pleaded to her mother, Gaea, to help her because Apollo kept chasing her, and then she became a laurel tree, which then Apollo claimed at his sacred plant.

But this one wasn't the only bad experience in the love field the god had.

Spencer felt like Apollo. Feeling like he had a bad curse in the love field, one of his lovers dying just like Apollos. 

He looked down at the blank page, and decided to write his feelings down.

“Lover boy left the notebook,” Y/n's cousin, Jolene, said. 

Y/n rolled her eyes and grabbed the book, making her way at the back of the library. His handwriting was messy, and for some reason that attracted her even more.

She opened the page where they were left. His explanation was long, making her excited. 

Apollo. That's my answer. 

I know you like Greek Mythology and I'd bet Apollo is your favourite Greek god, and he is mine. I relate to his myth, not much in general, after all how would you relate to a god, but in the lovers' part…. It's not that I dated a lot in my life, but the little ones I've experienced made me feel like I mocked Eros and he threw an arrow at me, and not the gold one. 

I don't like talking about it, but you, mystery girl, bring that part of me I don't let people see, at least not easily. Funnily enough how my coworkers of years don't know half of the way i'm feeling, and you know it almost all and i'd be honoured to tell you it all, if you let me, of course.

Now is my turn to give you a dare, if you call them so. 

Go to the immersive Van Gogh exhibit here in DC, and tell me which of his paintings you feel attracted to the most. 

With love, SR.

She smiled softly, and sighed out of love. The little detail he has of putting his initials makes her heart squeeze, and love his notes even more. 

She gets up walking to the exit with confident steps and a smile on her face, Jolene frowns, “Where are you going?”

“The Van Gogh exhibit,” she says, still walking.

“Bitch… it's midnight…”

“Oh true…” Y/n says turning back around, “Nevermind.”

Road with Cypress and Star;

I could easily have said another one a few years ago, but while being there, the painting just being there in front of me made me feel a connection, a strange attraction I cannot explain. You see, I love astronomy, you might have noticed because of the first clue on the notebook, but it just calls me in. I love Van Gogh in general, but his illustration of it in some of his paintings might be one of my favourite things. So I must thank you for the experience. I wouldn't have discovered that so easily without your help, and now is your turn.

I bet you've read Edgar Allan Poe, so, if you have, tell me the first work you've read of him, and your favourite at the moment, and if you haven't then go and read one!!

How demanding, mystery girl. So bossy. 

And yes, luckily for both of us I've read his work. The first work I might have ever known was Annabel Lee, my mom used to recite it for me but read it on my own; The Masque of the Red Death. It was beautiful however my favourite work might be The Lake. 

Hope my likes are enough for you. 

With my love, SR. 

The Lake? Burn out genius kid, are you? How does it feel to be so cool? And yes, your likes are enough for me, I also read The Masque of the Red Death for a school thing, and I ended up loving his work, and hey don't hurry up in asking me which one is my favourite! 

Oh sorry, sorry! I might ask you if you tell me your name. I want to know the beautiful name behind such a mastermind. 

With all my love, SR. 

Oh please! You're the mastermind here… Wanna know my name? You gotta earn it… with a dare. 

A dare? How exciting. I'm in. 

Yours, SR. 

Oh well, such an adventurous soul. We've been talking for quite a while, and these moments have been incredible. You've read about me and I've read about you but here is the real question… Do you know me, Doctor Reid?

Such a deep question. And my answer is; I absolutely do, mystery girl. 

Yours, SR. 

I hope you're right about that one. Because the way you're gonna earn my name is through knowing me. I've talked about books with you, but my favourite i've never mentioned, if you know me, like you say you do, then go ahead. My name is in a paper between the pages of my favourite book, good luck, doctor ;)

Spencer breathed in and out, chuckling at the same time. The air has been stolen, by no one else than the mystery girl. She had this beautiful energy, and Spencer couldn't get enough. Her dares, questions and way to write did nothing but excite him, to make him want more of her, and his feelings had been growing and growing with every letter, every period, every coma and every character in those pages. 

Her favourite book? Spencer thinks. He thinks about all their conversations, which luckily he has tattooed on his brain, maybe because of his eidetic memory, or maybe because of what he feels, but he does and he doesn't care how or why, he just does. 

Her favourite book, one she must appreciate beyond words, one she could, maybe, read every once in a while, something that spoke about her and who she was… For some, it might be difficult to decipher, but for him, oh for him, it was clearer than cristaline water. 

He walks up, where he knew her favourite book was and made his way to the shelves, his fingertips touching the margins of every book while reading their title, until he came up with hers. He took it and held it in his hands, smiling at the cover, and opening the book, a paper fell off of this o and he leaned down to grab it, turn it around to read the words. 

Apparently you do know me, and because of it, you have truthfully earned my name. Hope it was what you thought it might be. 

Truthfully yours, Y/n.

He smiles while holding the thin paper, he doesn't know why he should be happier, the fact that he does know her, or the fact he knows her name. Y/n… Y/n… it sounds so right in his mouth, and mind. 

He decides to be happy for both, and keeps the paper in his satchel, he sits down and writes to her once more.

Hello, Y/n, my mystery girl. It feels nice to know your name, finally. I might have to mention it matches your personality, or at least what you have given me the privilege to know. 

Hopefully, when the time is right, we can put a face to the beautiful name. 

Always yours, SR. 

“Come on! It's gonna be fun…” Jolene begs, once again.��

Y/n sighs, while reading Spencer's most recent words, she might have let one or two squeals while reading it, but he didn't have to know that. On the other side of the story it was Jolene, who tried to convince Y/n to go to her party, one Jolene's friends had invited her, wanting Y/n to come along. 

“I don't wanna go to a party, those are boring,” Y/n said. 

“It's not a party… it's a reunion… at a friend's house… where alcohol might make an appearance.”

Y/n rolls her eyes for the fifth time that evening, “Come on, i don't wanna be alone,” Jolene begged for the last time. 

Y/n groans, “Fine, but if I'm bored I'll let you there.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” Jolene says as she makes her way out of the library, “My friend is an FBI agent, she might even know your secret man,” she moves her brows up and down. 

Y/n doesn't answer as she caresses the cover of her notebook, thinking about him again while making their way to the car, she wishes Spencer was there with her, he doesn't like parties either. 

Spencer, indeed, did not like parties, but being Emily's welcome home party, of course he had to go. Penelope offered to drive him to Derek's house, where the party would be, and how could he say no? 

“How many people are gonna be there?” He asks as he looks out the window. 

“I don't know, a few? You know how Emily is anyways, and Derek… he invited some friends too.”

Spencer nods, and sighs. He can't wait to go back to the library and find Y/n's response, he always looks forward to her responses. And thinking about her drove him to dreamland, not noticing Penelope parking the car. 

“Ready, boy wonder?” she asks, getting out of the car

“No,” Spencer answers, more to himself.

He makes his way inside, the house almost full of people he could even verily see his friends. The huge “Welcome home, Emily,” sign on the wall, and Emily with a hat while drinking and laughing. He shakes his head and goes to her, with a smile. 

“Spence!!” She says excited, obviously already drunk, and goes to him to hug him, Spencer tries to hug her back, but she's moving too much, “I'm so glad you're here.”

“Of course, how could I miss this?” He jokes. 

Emily smiles and then gasps, “Oh there is jello on the table over there, you love jello, right?”

“Yeah I do,” he chuckles. 

“Oh that's nice, then go and eat and im gonna try to find more drink,” she says before waving Spencer goodbye making her way to Derek. He shakes his head once again and goes to the table, another girl being there. She's grabbing jello too while she seems uncomfortable. 

Spencer frowns, probably she doesn't like parties. 

He looks at her, she's stunning, but not as stunning as he thinks Y/n might be, she looks concentrated in grabbing jello and Spencer looks at her, “Not a party person?” 

She looks up at him, he's stunning. Beautiful hazel eyes and brown curls falling on his face, but surely not as beautiful as she thinks Spencer is, however, she smiles, and shakes her head, “Not really, my cousin brought me here…” She says looking around for her, “And apparently she disappeared,” Spencer chuckles looking at her, “What about you?” she curiously asks 

He scrunches his nose, and shakes his head just like she did before, “Not really.. My friend Emily just came back from Paris, so,” she nods. 

“Oh yeah, she seems really nice,” it's now Spencer's turn to nod. 

“She is.”

They both sigh, and giggle. Spencer grabs a cup and puts the jello on his cup, “Im…” Spencer was gonna introduce himself, until Derek came up to him. 

“Pretty boy…” He giggles, drunk as fuck as well. 

“Morgan,” Spencer chuckles. 

Spencer turns around to look at the girl, but she's gone. He frowns looking around but she's nowhere to be seen. 

Morgan gasps, “I'm sorry… Did I interrupt you and that pretty girl?”

The young doctor shakes his head while looking down, “No, it's fine.”

“Oh, okay. Let's go with everyone else,” Morgan grabs Spencer by the arm and drags him to his friends.

He looks back looking for the girl, but she's not there. He feels weird inside, but decides to ignore it. 

Y/n bored of the party, makes her way to the library. Luckily for her, being a family property, she could get in and out whenever she wants. She opens the door, turning the lights on while walking around and breathing the air, the smell of books and the warmth that hugs her. Memories all over that library… getting to know Spencer being one of them, and she smiles and closes her eyes. Wishing, once more, he could be there with her. She can't take the feeling of not being able to hug him, to talk to him face to face, to just even see his eyes and hold his hands. She takes the notebook, but then, a page falls off of this one. She frowns and goes to pick it up.

I don't know when you're gonna find this page, hopefully soon enough. I am currently at the Van Gogh exhibit. The painting you talked to me about a few weeks ago is just in front of me, and I just can't take it anymore. The way you think, the way you describe things… Your taste, your personality, who you are, it's making me go crazy, and I can swear at you that I've never felt this love for anyone, ever before. Some might call me crazy cause I don't even know your name! I don't know what you look like, I don't know anything about you besides what you've written. But I know your mind, and I know your soul and I know your heart and that's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Like psyche loved Eros, blindly but strongly, I love you, my mystery girl. I love you and your thoughts and your mind. I love your letters and your words, I love your handwriting and taste. I love you, and I pray to the Greek god of love for you to love me back, cause I don't know what I would do with myself if you don't. Maybe he would understand because he loved like I love you… He threw a gold arrow at me, and hopefully, this time, he doesn't throw the lead one at you. I love you, and I hope you love me back. 

Always and forever yours, Spencer Reid. 

Y/n giggles, at the same time she wipes her tears. She feels happiness, she feels loved for the first time, and she wants to tell him she feels the same.

“Y/n?” A voice speaks from behind. 

She jumps in her place as the book and the page falls onto the floor, and she turns around. It's the same man from the party… she frowns, who does he knows her name? But before she can get to ask, the realisation is there. 

“Spencer..” she lets out.

Spencer smiles, knowing he was right, but taking his time to look at her. She's gorgeous, just like he imagined her… his mystery girl, his dreams right there in front of him. 

“How did you…”

“I came to the library because I was feeling weird hoping it was open, and I saw you inside, reading the page…” he makes his way to her, leaning down to grab the items on the floor. Y/n looks down at him and follows his gaze as he stands up, slowly while looking at her, “So you read the page huh? I just wanna say that…” but before he gets to talk she kisses him. Spencer is speechless but he doesn't complain, dropping the items again on the floor, and Y/n chuckles against his lips. He smiles as his hands travel to her sides, stroking softly, and kissing her back. 

They eventually pull away, their forehead pressing against each other while trying to recover their breath. 

“Gold arrow,” she whispers, and Spencer smiles as he goes to her lips again, and again, and again. 

Two souls don't find each other by simple accident.

Maybe destiny, maybe Eros. Believe what your heart wants the most.

[obiwanobi]

Catch me thinking about sith Anakin who got in a fight w/ Palps (did Palps cross a line? Did Anakin decide he had nothing to lose? Idk), barely managed to win and is now seriously hurting and a little freaked out winding up outside Obi-wan's quarters and Obi-wan doesn't have time to draw his saber let alone figure out how a sith lord managed to get so far into the jedi temple unnoticed and Force is that blood? before Anakin's passing out with only a murmered request for help.

LISTEN you can’t keep sending me perfect prompts, how do you know I can’t resist bloody men on their knees begging for salvation, how do you know me so well??? anyway here’s 2.3k of always-a-sith!Anakin who could have been the new ruler of the empire but said ‘no thanks, this is too much responsibility, I would like to be pampered by my favourite jedi now’ (with a bit of Ahsoka as Obi-Wan’s padawan!)

 He didn’t mean to kill him.

Well, not at first.

He didn’t mean to kill Sidious, but pulling his lightsaber from his lifeless corpse only felt like complete satisfaction. A weight on his shoulders he didn't know he carried disappeared, letting him stand up above the body of his master— former master, and gaze upon what was left of him. A shapeless form on the ground. A dark cape around an old man playing at being a god. A begging mess of futile promises when he realised it was the end for him.  

As mindless fury leaves him, his ragged breathing slows down and his fist unclenches around his saber. Sidious is dead. Now that the adrenaline rush is gone, his knees start shaking. His Master is dead. His face is wet with sweat and blood and tears. Dead and now Anakin has no one.

And then...  And then fear.

"You know," Ahsoka groans as the water starts boiling, "I don't understand how you got your reputation of Cool Jedi Master. Other padawans think I'm lying when I tell them you wear the ugliest slippers at home and gets excited by new tisanes."

"You gifted me those slippers."

"As a joke. And you still wear them."

"I'm not going to throw away perfectly good slippers." Obi-Wan wiggles his toes under the red and yellow fuzzy monstrosities, just to see his padawan rolls her eyes. "And they're really comfortable."

"So you're just going to stay there, then? Your whole battalion is out celebrating our first day of leave since forever, but you prefer to drink your tea alone and go to bed at 22:00?"

"No one wants an authority figure around when they're letting loose and celebrating, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan says, pouring hot water in his cup. He raises the kettle towards his padawan as a question, to which she shakes her head. "I thought you would be happy to see me putting sleep before work for once."

"I am, Master, but I thought it could be..." She trails off, fidgeting with the hilt of her sabers. For once, she looks like a typical padawan, just like he was at her age, dying to enjoy one night away from the temple and any kind of responsibilities.

"It's alright my dear," he sighs, "you can join them if you want."

Ahsoka suddenly perks up. "I can?"

"If you're old enough to be sent to the front, I think you can handle yourself for one night on Coruscant."

"Thank you Master! I promise I'll be careful and not come back too late!"

"You do that, and-- wait, Ahsoka," he adds as she's already halfway through the door, "make sure to stay around Cody! And no alcohol of any kind! And don't lose your lightsaber at sabacc again!"

"That was you!" she yells from the end of the corridor, "don't worry, I'll be fine! Don't wait for me to go to bed! Goodnight Master!"

Obi-Wan smiles, blowing on his cup. He already sent a message to Cody earlier to keep an eye on her, so he knows she's in good hands.

He has his herbal tea, his ugly slippers, no reports to read or write, and no immediate Separatist menace to plan for. For once, a perfectly good night to catch up on sleep and meditation.

So, of course, something has to be wrong.

The Force is bright. The Force is lighter than it has ever been for the past few years.

And Obi-Wan can't understand why.  

It's not just him that can feel it: Ahsoka has acted chipper since, more like the teenager she is, laughing with the clones and playfully teasing him the whole fly back to Coruscant. The temple has felt livelier than ever when they arrived, Jedi from all ages going about their day with a new spring in their step, greeting each other warmly in the corridors. Even Master Yoda has taken a few minutes during their Council meeting to note the shift in the Force. No Master could pinpoint the origin of this change, but all agreed that something good happened somewhere in the galaxy, and they were just feeling ripples of the effect in the Force.

Still now, the whole temple feels a bit more like it used to, before the war, and all Jedi are a bit happier without knowing why.

Only Obi-Wan feels like a noose tightening around him. Whatever it is, it's slowing making its way around his presence in the Force. Focusing on him and him alone. Doesn't matter how much Obi-Wan tries to hide himself, it's getting closer and never slowing down or losing interest.

Needless to say, Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this.

But after almost three years of war, sullen faces and grim expressions, he doesn't feel like dampening the sudden good mood around the Temple just with a few words. He can probably deal with whatever it is by himself.

His tisane is cold when he finally emerges from his meditation. Nothing is clearer than when he started: the Force is deaf to his questions and inquiries, still light as a breeze. An airy unconcern for his restlessness. And yet, a thick pressure still looms around him, getting heavier each passing second now.

His fingers start pulling on his collar.

The clock on the wall indicates that he lied to Ahsoka when he said he was going to bed at a respectable time today. No diurnal Jedi would still be up right now, but he still considers going out to knock at Mace's door. Narrowed eyes and a very long sigh will be his first answer, but Obi-Wan knows that Mace would never refuse to hear him out. Yes, he finally decides when the pressure seems to creep even closer to him, it's worth waking up Mace.

He opens his door, wondering if he should take his robe with him, and instantly stops walking.

There, in the empty corridor of the Jedi Temple, at his door and on his knees, is a Sith. He knows it's a Sith only because he recognises this specific mass of hair, the large shoulders, the dishevelled dark robe. He knows it's a Sith because he has crossed path with this one enough times on the battlefield to recognise him anywhere. Outside of it a few times too. He isn't sure it's a Sith when the Sith raises his head up, bloody and bruised face torn in an agonizing expression, and his eyes are blue.

"I— I didn't know where to go," Darth Vader says quietly, with the kind of voice expected from a lost child. It gives Obi-Wan a second shock to hear his voice, making his presence suddenly real. "You said... You said if I ever wanted to, if I needed help one day, you would— I could—"

Obi-Wan remembers it. He remembers all the times he offered his help. His pleas for him to stop the violence, the appeals to reason, the multiple suggestions of a gentler path. His hand continuously outreached but never taken. He remembers the burning gold of the Sith's eyes too, and his black cape floating above the dead clones at his feet.

His laughter the first time Obi-Wan brought up the idea of lowering their blades and talking around a cup of tea. His sneer the third time Obi-Wan tried to change his misconceptions about the Jedi Order and play-flirt with him in the same breath. The silence the fifth time Obi-Wan asked him his name, his real name, the one a parent gave him.

The tears the last time he gave it to him.

"And you're always trying to save me," Vader adds more forcefully now, like the words anger him, "you're always here, showing up almost every time I'm sent somewhere with your stupid smile and stupid words, and you're always nice, and... and teasing, and disappointed when I kill someone, like you expect me to be better, and I don't understand you, but..."

Vader raises his hand towards him, and it's only this sudden move that shakes Obi-Wan out of his stupor. Before the Sith can touch his leg, Obi-Wan calls his lightsaber to him, ignites it in one fluid motion, half-expecting Vader to be up and swaying his saber in his face by now. But the Sith is still on his knees, and it's only now that the blue light of his blade is above him that Obi-Wan realises the state he's in. His face isn't the only thing bruised and battered: his dark tunic is stained with blood and ripped in more than one place, one of his arms is bent in an unnatural way, and it looks like a cut above his hairline is still bleeding, making his curls stick to his face in a mess of wet hair and burned skin.

"Vader," Obi-Wan says slowly, when his thoughts finally regain a semblance of coherence. A rapid investigation through the Force assures him that no other enemy is around and the calm and quiet of the night in the Temple isn't a prequel for a storm. "How did you get in here? What are you doing here? How—"

Vader's hand, stuck in the space between them, reaches once again for Obi-Wan. Foolishly, Obi-Wan lets him. His fingers twist themselves in the fabric of his pants.

"He made me killed them all.” Vader wobbles on his knees for a second, the hand on Obi-Wan's leg gripping it tighter. “No platoons, no battle droids. Just me. He sent me to the power station and I cut through them so easily, so quickly, they didn't even fight back, and I didn't think that..." he trails off, panting. "Until.... until I saw the electro-whips." 

"Are you talking about Naphtla?" he asks when Vader doesn't seem to be able to continue.

Naphtla. Outer Rim. Barely on the Republic radar until this afternoon, when nearby troops answered a distress signal and found a hidden Separatist power station operated by slaves. A third of them were dead, killed only a few hours before, and the survivors turned to the Republic for immediate support. Slaughtered like animals, the rescue team reported to the Council only a few hours ago, by one single man wielding a red lightsaber. According to witnesses, the darksider cut through the slaves like bantha butter, killing everyone in his path without discrimination, until he stopped for no apparent reason and abruptly left.

"You were the one who killed the people at the station there," Obi-Wan realises out loud, horrified, "the slaves from Zygerria."

Vader snaps his head up and his fingers tighten painfully around Obi-Wan's knee. "I DIDN'T KNOW!"

All Obi-Wan's senses and logical thoughts urge him to back out, put an end to this nonsensical charade, raise his lightsaber between them, get away from the dark, hungry void Vader generates in the Force.

But his eyes are looking up to him. Gripping his gaze with the same intensity as his hand on his leg. Bloodied face and pleading, on his knees. Full of tears.

Obi-Wan doesn't push Vader's hand away.

"I didn't know they were slaves, I didn't!"

"Vader."

"He never said! He sent me without telling him, he knows I don't—" A small noise sounding suspiciously like a sob swallows the rest of his words.

"Vader, who sent—"

"When I came back," he tries again, quieter. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to ask about this he, but Vader's head lolls for a second, too heavy to support, before butting gently against Obi-Wan's leg. Vader makes no effort to move, content to stay there, and after a second, a small, almost timid nuzzle against his thigh sends a series of shivers through Obi-Wan's spine. It shuts him up instantly. "When I came back, he looked at me for so, so long, before saying that he knew, he knew I was going to fail, that I was... just like them after all, and that I could never... And I was so mad, so angry at him, so I... I..."

The last words are muffled by the fabric Vader clings to. Hides into. There's blood on Obi-Wan's pants now.

"What have you done, Vader?" Obi-Wan asks, softer than he intended. "Vader," he asks again when no reply comes, without success. The hand not holding his lightsaber moves, hesitates for a moment, then settles lightly on Vader's hair, mindful not to touch any open wounds. His fingers nudge him to tip his head back, gently, carefully, and settle on his cheek to hold his face up, looking at him. "Anakin." His name, his true name, makes him blink a few times. "Anakin, what have you done?"

"I killed him," he finally admits, barely audible. He looks exhausted, more like a child in need of rest than ever.

"Who did you kill?"

"My master."

"Dooku? You killed Dooku?"

"No," Vader— Anakin frowns, like Obi-Wan should know better. "Sidious."

It's a bit much to process in one day. Another Sith Lord, Vader's master, concealed and kept a secret, now dead, killed by his apprentice —and does that make Vader the ruling Sith Lord now? Do Sith have rulers?— the lightness in the Force the same day, a half-dead Vader begging for help in the middle of the night in the Jedi Temple, and all of that while Obi-Wan is still wearing his ugly slippers.

He's so glad he sent Ahsoka away for the night.

Anakin doesn't let him time to feel the migraine coming.

"I can't do it, I can't be my master, I can't— and Dooku hates me, he will never help me, even if I let him have it all, he will never..." Vader seems to run out of steam, and lets his eyes close as his head falls once again against Obi-Wan's thigh. Closer. "You said you could help me. You said I could come to you at any time. You said you would always be there if I didn't want to... do this, anymore."

"I did," Obi-Wan assures him, his hand lightly petting his hair again.

Anakin lets out a long breath. His fingers tighten on the fabric of Obi-Wan's pants, loosen, and tighten again.

"You're the only one I trust," the Sith quietly tells the Jedi, and it's the saddest thing Obi-Wan has ever heard.