#ya know once they get past the decade of trying to kill each other

[imogenkol]

— WIP WEDNESDAY

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton and @inafieldofdaisies to post a wip! Thank you both! 💕💕💕

as always, no pressure tags (and pls let me know if any of you don’t want to be tagged in wip days anymore): @detectivelokis @marivenah @jacobseed @aceghosts @jinfromyarikawa @phillipsgraves @corvosattano @unholymilf @simonxriley @roofgeese @chuckhansen @queennymeria @florbelles @risingsh0t @minaharkers @nokstella

I honestly just wanted to write Imogen getting bullied by the Mantis Crew, but this is her attempt at making friends. First time she’s tried. She wasn’t a fan.

“You know,” Imogen said as she sauntered into the Mantis crew’s hideout. Cal was the first to react, igniting his lightsaber and shifting into the defensive stance of a Jedi. The ghost of an amused smile curled at the corner of Imogen’s mouth. She remained nonchalant. “Despite your very best efforts, it was not that difficult to find you.”

If anything, Cal tensed further at the sight of her familiar face. “We weren’t hiding from you.”

“Have you been waiting for another opportunity to challenge me?”

“No, we just have bigger problems than a failed Inquisitor.”

She ignored the slight and stepped forward. The Jedi mirrored her advance, his blue blade humming excitedly. “And yet here I am before you once more.” 

“What do you want?” 

“Contrary to your perception of me, Cal, I am not here to fight you.” In an effort to lower his guard, Imogen placed her hands behind her back.  

“My perception of you?” Cal asked, exasperated. “Exactly which betrayal and murder attempt did I misinterpret?” 

Imogen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. His dramatics were unnecessary. “That was a long time ago.” 

“Not nearly long enough for me to forgive and forget. Not without one hell of a good reason to trust you. And it’s going to take a lot, Imogen.”

“My priorities have shifted. It may benefit our interests if we again become… allies,” she said, narrowly avoiding choking on the word. Imogen couldn’t quite bring herself to suggest friendship. She still had much to learn when it came to her romantic connection with Bix, navigating a whole new dynamic didn’t appeal to her.

Cal shook his head. “Fool me once.”

“It’s been more than once,” Imogen pointed out smugly. 

“I’ll ask again. What do you want?” 

“I have joined the Rebel Alliance.” 

Greez, who had previously remained as silent as the rest of the crew throughout the tense exchange, released a hearty laugh. “Here I thought you didn’t have a sense of humor, but I gotta give it to you, that was a good one!” 

Cal noted Imogen’s steely expression. “She isn’t joking.”

“I’m not,” she confirmed.

“Why?” Urgency willed the Jedi closer to his old adversary. “What’s your angle? What do you have planned?”

Imogen kept her body still. “I’ve told you. A lot has changed, Cal, and because of that I must reevaluate who I consider to be an enemy.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Irritation shot up Imogen’s spine. Her patience at his persistent questioning wore thin. She knew Cal wouldn’t just openly accept a change of heart, but she didn’t feel comfortable revealing the details of her new outlook. Imogen Kol would not willingly expose her neck to a fool like Cal Kestis. Though… she had to acknowledge he wasn’t entirely foolish. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here. 

“I’m not who I was,” she said. 

“You want me to just trust you when you won’t even trust me enough to give a real reason.” Cal scoffed and finally put his lightsaber away. “You’ve wasted your time coming here. Whatever you want, I can’t help you.”

Imogen should have left it at that, but a part of her actually wanted this to work. “You’re right, I don’t trust you. Not yet. We both have things we need to protect and I cannot risk –” She had enough self restraint to cut the sentence off before she showed her hand, but the sudden intensity her tone had taken caused her face to flush. 

Weakness, her thoughts bitterly chastised. 

“Can’t risk what?” Cal pressed. 

“Not what,” Merrin chimed in. Imogen often forgot about the Zabrak’s existence until she spoke. “Who. She has someone.”

Imogen sharply glared at her. Merrin stood unfazed by the way the former Inquisitor’s eyes burned with hatred. She stared back as if she had simply recited an obvious fact. It made Imogen fume. “Perhaps I should have cut out your tongue when last we met. There is still time.”

Merrin ignored the threat and looked to Cal. “That’s why she’s here. She’s fallen in love and has dared to consider fighting for something other than herself.”

“I’ve already fought for her,” Imogen fiercely snapped. 

Another misstep. 

The outburst all but confirmed Merrin’s accusation. Imogen didn’t believe that Cal or the crew posed a threat to Bix directly, but she learned from her time as an enforcer for the Empire that to surrender the knowledge of what matters most is to guarantee it will be used against you. With all the enemies she has made, it only takes one loose end to lead back to her relationship. Cal may be a valuable asset in protecting what she holds dear. Or he could be a fatal mistake. Imogen originally intended to draw a definitive conclusion to that uncertainty before her true intentions had been revealed. 

“Tell me about her,” Cal said. 

Imogen answered immediately and firmly. “No.”

He shrugged. “You want me to believe you? That’s my price.”

“You are asking me to freely confess the one thing that can truly hurt me.”

“I’m asking you to trust me with it.”

[silverwolfstuff]

CHAPTER SEVEN (RadioDust)Two Lost Hearts

5:09 amHazbin Hotel- Alastor’s roomIt’s been eighty years. I still cannot find you. We promised each other. Don’t you remember?  January 21. Our anniversary. Anthony… We promised each other. … I miss you. I still love you. I hope I can find you one day, my dear. -RDAlastor sighed, setting his quill down and cracked his boney fingers as he looked outside his bedroom in the hotel. It had been almost eight decades since he was killed by a hunter and since then, he had been searching day and night for his beloved Anthony. He wasn’t even sure if he ended up in Hell or not. Forcing a smile, Alastor dawned his tailcoat and teleported down into the lobby, scaring Angel Dust in the process who had just come home. About to make a smart remark, he didn’t. Something about the look in his eyes seemed familiar, almost haunting. He shook it off and gently slipped past the spider sinner, walking out into the crisp air of Hell. Humming a simple tune as he walked down the streets of Pentagram City, he soon found himself in Cannibal Town, eyes turned to radio dials when he saw a few dead sinners and immediately feasted on them. He was hungry and he knew he needed to feed that hunger but… He felt horrid afterwards. He hadn’t meant to do that. Sitting back on his knees, he let his smile fade, hands shaking as he got several flashbacks for the first time in decades. He looked up when Rosie placed a hand on his shoulder and gently led him towards her shop, helping him get washed up. “... I am terribly sorry, Rosie. I.. I do not know what came over me to attack your people,” he said, sipping on the cup of tea he was handed. The cannibal woman just smiled. “It’s alright, Al. … Wha’sa matter, hun? You’re never out of the sorts like this,” she said gently, handing him his tailcoat that she had fixed up for him. The radio demon sighed quietly, looking at his pointed shoes, setting the tea cup down, the sinner then took his gloves off and set them down on the table beside him. There, on grey and red and scarred limbs, rested a silver ring, embroidered with blue sapphires. The radio demon took it off for the first time in nearly eight decades and handed it to his friend. “Al… This is…” Rosie said, taking the ring with gentle hands. She knew what it was. She was there when Al got the ring. She knew what it meant to the demon beside her who was sitting with his head on his knee, staring at the fire that was ablaze. “It’s the engagement ring that matches Annthony’s… I have looked everywhere, Rosie… I-I think he’s in Heaven… He’s an angel anyways. He is my angel…” Alastor said with a sigh, taking his ring back and slipped his gloves back on, as well as his tailcoat. He cleared his throat, the static and old timey filter laced his voice once more. 

“Lovely as always, my dear. Until we meet again.” He smiled at her before going off into the shadows. Rosie sighed, unsure how else to help her friend. She let him be, hoping that he’d be alright. She knew that in their time alive, Anthony and Alastor were inseparable. After a second’s hesitation, she picked up the phone, dialling in I.M.P. “Blitz speaking,” said the voice over the phone. Rosie was familiar with the imp so she knew who he was. He was the Prince’s lover. “I need a favour. Your business can track down people, right?” “.... Kind of. Why?” “My friend, Alastor-.” “The Radio Demon.”

“Yes. He’s been looking for someone for over ten decades.”

“Well… We can try. Need a name for the guy he’s lookin’ for.”

“Anthony. Anthony Campioni, I believe, was his last name.”  She heard rustling in the background, then an angered sigh. “Sorry, Ro. Nothin’ for ya.’ “Thank you anyways, my dear,” she said, hanging up the phone and opened the shop, getting the day started. She hoped Alastor could find his true love again. She knew how happy he was with Anthony. “Oh, Al…” she sighed, hoping he’d be able to find Anthony again. 

***

After getting back from Cannibal Town, and his visit with Rosie, he was back in the hotel. He walked through the front doors of the Hotel, humming in reply when Nifty called his name. He was nursing an oncoming headache. He looked at the smaller sinner and offered a gentle smile. Husk looked over at the radio demon. It was rare to see the sinner without a smile on his face so he knew something was up. He looked back when Angel sat down at the bar, groaning in pain. 

“You alright, kid?”

“No… Val had me work all fuckin’ night. Almost twenty hours… Ugh…” the spider groaned, cracking his back and his wrists. Alastor winced. Anthony used to do that and it drove Al insane. He hated the noise. He didn’t pay attention to what Charlie had been saying to him as he was trying to figure something out about Angel. His laugh… Why? Why did it sound all so familiar now? He’d put up with the spider’s annoying antics for almost eight decades. Why did it all just suddenly sound so familiar? “Al?” Charlie asked and touched his shoulder to get his attention. Alastor jumped, slightly startled. 

“Are you okay…?”

“Hmm? Yes. I’m alright, Charlie, dear,” he assured with his usual smile, zapping out into the shadows and away from the crowd. He perked up when he heard his name. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Angel. 

“Yes, Angel?”

“I noticed ya were lookin’ at me. You tryin’ to get somethin’ from me. Gotta pay if you want my services.” He flashed his smile. Alastor felt his stomach tighten. His smile. He felt sick. He looked away, a hand to his mouth as he leaned against the wall. Memories replayed in his head. Angel’s smile fell as he noticed what was going on with the radio demon. 

“Hey… You alrigh’?” he asked softly. Alastor choked back a noise and didn’t say anything, wiping at his own eyes and teleported to his bedroom. Taking deep breaths as he sat on his bed and took off his gloves. He watched as his ring glistened in the light of Hell’s sunrays and the dim light of his bedroom. He didn’t know what to do other than that… No. That was impossible. Right? He sighed and fixed his suit, fixing his bowtie before putting on his gloves again and made his microphone pop in his hand, walking out afterwards. He hissed when Angel startled him. 

“You okay, Al? You usually ain’t this jumpy,” said the spider sinner, looking at the radio demon with a concerned look in his eyes. Alastor shook it off, feeling his ring cold against his finger. He just plastered the same smile and greeted Angel like always before he disappeared down into the lobby, leaving Angel in the hallway. The spider sighed, unsure what to do now. Like the deer demon, he’d been wondering where his beloved partner had gone. He had a hunch that Al was his Alastor but he wasn’t sure. He sighed and walked to his bedroom, smiling when his pet pig, Fat Nuggets, ran up to him, squealing. 

“Hey, baby. Momma’s okay,” he promised and nuzzled his nose gently, sighing quietly as he picked up a photo album and sat on the ground. He smiled to himself as he skimmed through the pictures. He laughed softly as he came across a photo in Alastor’s handwriting and right under was his own.

‘This was Anthony’s idea… Sort of. I only agreed because he wouldn’t stop complaining. -AH’

‘You agreed because you didn’t want to deal with me. Love you!! -ALC’

He let stray tears fall down his cheeks. He missed Al… He wished he could just hold him again, cuddle him… Do everything they did together that they did when they were alive. He sniffled and wiped his eyes, shoving the book away under his bed. He winced as he hit his arm on the edge of his bed. He perked up when he smelled… Jambalaya being cooked? He hadn’t had that in decades. Holding Fat Nuggs in his arms, he walked downstairs. He had changed into comfortable pants and a pink sweatshirt. His nose followed the scent and his legs knew where to take him which was towards the kitchen. He hadn’t expected to see Alastor.., Wait. What was that on his hand? He looked at his own right hand, the same ring sat on his hand. He gasped softly, eyes wide. He nearly dropped his pig but instead didn’t and only choked back a sob, wiping his eyes. Alastor looked over his shoulder. 

“Ah… Angel, pleasure seeing you again,” the radio demon smiled and looked back at the stove, noticing that the sinner had been crying for a moment. He frowned, smile faltering again. 

“Baiser,” the sinner growled, setting the wooden spoon on the counter and used magic to make sure the food wouldn’t burn. He gripped the counter, unsure about something before he looked over at the sinner, a smile playing at his lips. He took a cautious step forward, cupping his face and wiped his tears away. Al, himself, was on the verge of tears. 

“Anthony.” He spoke in such a soft tone that the word was barely audible, but the room around them was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. However, that was the word that set Angel off. He sobbed and broke down, shaking his head before going in the other direction. Alastor stood there, heartbroken. He snapped his fingers and dinner was served. He briefly told Charlie that it had been served before going off into his own bedroom and locked the door. After he shut it, he sank to his knees and ran his hands through his black and red hair, taking his monocle off and placed it on the floor next to him. Wiping his eyes as he stood up after a moment, setting his monocle on the table and changed into something more comfortable. He wasn’t sure what to say or do other than the fact he was having a small breakdown. He took shaky breaths, trying to listen to the smooth jazz that played on his radio. He hummed when his shadow hugged him, comforting him. 

“Talk to him,” his shadow whispered. Al shook his head. 

“I-I can’t… Not with him being in the state he is now,” he whispered back and sobbed quietly to himself. Was it really Anthony? His Anthony? The one he loved and cherished for years. He knew he wanted to talk to him… He couldn’t. He shouldn’t have overstepped the way he did. He felt bad and he knew he was having a mental breakdown. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself down but he couldn’t. Only making it worse for himself, and just broke down in tears, allowing his shadow to comfort him as he let the tears fall.

3:12 amAlastor woke around three in the morning. Slipping his glasses on, he got up and teleported to the Hotel’s lobby, having a craving for a cup of tea. However, something seemed… Off? He noticed that Angel wasn’t here. Huh. Now he was worried. He hoped he’d be home soon. He hadn’t meant to set him off like that and he really did wish he could take it back. He didn’t think he said it… It was probably too soon anyways. After getting his tea, and instead of going back to his bedroom, he waited on the staircase, hoping he could catch the spider when he walked into the hotel’s lobby. 

Thirty minutes later, he heard the doors open. Looking up from his book, he stood up and walked towards Angel, cross firing in his path. 

“Angel.” Alastor’s tone of voice was soft and gentle. Angel looked down and sighed quietly. 

“I looked everywhere for ya, Al. Eighty years, I looked for ya everywhere. Where the hell-,” Angel was cut off by Alastor pulling him into a tight and much needed hug. The spider sinner froze up before he hugged him back, crying into his shoulder. 

“Anthony…” Alastor whispered and held his spider close.  “I know you did. I looked as well. I… I tried to find you right after I fell down here. I’m so sorry, mon ange…” 

Angel sniffled and just nodded as he cupped his face, hitting Alastor in the shoulder. A hard punch. 

“I’m mad at ya, but how can I not love ya,” he laughed and kissed Alastor, holding him. Alastor was expecting the hit to his shoulder and didn’t react much but he was a little startled when he was kissed, though he kissed back and held Angel in his arms. He rubbed his back, linking their hands together. 

“I neva took it off, Al. I kept that promise,” Angel said when he pulled away for a moment. Alastor nodded and softly rubbed his arms, frowning when he heard Angel hiss in pain. Cautious, he took a good look at his beloved partner and frowned when he saw cuts and bruises, some old and some new, and some were opened again. He sat him down on the couch, handing him a cup of tea (well his unfinished cup) while he found the first aid kit and helped get him patched up. He sat with him on the couch in the lobby and helped comfort him as they rekindled their relationship from years ago. He felt at home with him and he knew Angel felt the same way. Doing the best he could, he was able to stitch a few open wounds and then used his magic to heal the spider better than what he’d already done. However, it did take a lot of his energy so when he finished, the green aura around them faltered and Alastor fell back against the couch, feeling utterly exhausted. 

“Al? You okay?”

“I’m fine, my dear. Using my power takes a lot of my energy,” he assured and softly kissed his hand. Angel just smiled before kissing his cheek and picked him up bridal style and carried him to Angel’s bedroom. He didn’t complain and allowed Angle to do what he wanted. He smiled softly, snapping his fingers, which changed Angel’s clothing. He felt himself starting to fall asleep but he didn’t admit it. He knew he had pushed his limits, but he’d be fine. Right? He ended up falling asleep the second his head hit Angel’s chest fluff. He perked up, tail wagging a little bit as he allowed Angel to pet his ears. The spider smiled as he held his deer demon close to his chest, laughing as he watched as the demon knocked out completely, quite literally “tuning out.” He pet his ears gently, petting Fat Nuggets who curled up at Angel’s side. He smiled and kissed the top of Alastor’s head, falling asleep with him.

9:00 am

When the spider woke up, he groaned softly, pushing his hands through his hair. He noticed that Alastor wasn’t on him. Wait. He felt different. He looked in his mirror as he got dressed and screamed after a moment. 

“ALASTOR!!” He wasn’t sure what to feel. Surprised? Scared? His eyes were the same. His left one wasn’t black anymore. It was the same colour as his right eye. He took a shaky breath. Not seeing his sinner anywhere, he walked downstairs with his robe on. Charlie looked up from where she was talking with Vaggie, offering a tired smile. The spider searched for Alastor, still confused on what was even going on. He felt his hands shake. The chains that were bound to him felt like they weren’t… No. They weren’t there. At all. He was free. He choked back a sob as he allowed Husk to help him sit down. 

“Hey, you okay, kid?” the cat demon asked the spider sinner, handing him a glass of water that Nifty had gone and fetched, handing one to Charlie as well. Angel’s hands shook as he took the glass of water from Husk, and shakily brought it up to his mouth to take a drink. Nifty was the first to say something. 

“Your eyes are different. They look the same too. What happened?” the cyclop sinner asked, genuinely curious why one eye wasn’t black as she was so used to seeing. The spider didn’t answer, still in utter shock. He jumped when he heard the Hotel doors opening. Lucifer himself was helping the Radio demon walk into the hotel. The King of Hell himself looked over to Vaggie who, for once, went over and helped him out. Angel was too shaken up to realise what was happening. Alastor groaned in pain as he sat down on the armchair beside the non inflamed fireplace. The radio demon mumbled a soft “thanks” to Lucifer and Vaggie, looking over to Angel who had now looked over at him. On shaky legs, like a newborn deer, Angel walked over to Alastor and cupped his face, wiping the blood off of the corners of his mouth before he kissed him.

“What’d ya do?” he asked softly, looking into the sinner’s red eyes. Alastor gave a real smile before opening his hands and showed Angel the contract. The golden seal that was signed with ‘Anthony’ and a heart next to it in red ink, then was in ashes. 

“I… I couldn’t bear to see you in any more pain, mon ange,” he told him and squeezed his hand softly with a hiss of pain. The spider sinner looked between him, Charlie, Husk, Nifty, and everyone else. He wiped his eyes with his top left hand before absolutely breaking down into his lover’s arms, being mindful of wherever the sinner hurt. He took shaky breaths. He was finally free and he was relieved. He couldn’t believe it. He waited seventy six years for this. He felt himself being pulled into a hug, probably from Alastor and he easily gave into his touch, sniffling.  “Al..” he whispered and looked at him with tearful eyes. Alastor smiled, softly kissing his mouth softly. His shadow gave Angel a look and the sinner nodded.

“C’mon, Al,” he hummed quietly, picking up the radio demon in his arms and carried him upstairs to his bedroom. Kicking it open with his foot after he opened it with his top arm and smiled softly when his pet ran to his legs. He softly cooed at Fat Nugs before setting Alastor down on his bed, petting the pig behind his ears. He helped Alastor change into something more comfortable before laying on his back and helped the radio demon lay on his chest fluff, knowing it soothed the sinner to sleep.

“Al?”

“Hmm….?” His voice was laced with exhaustion.

“Get some shut-eye, baby,” he whispered and kissed his forehead and played with the fluff on his ears. Alastor whined softly before he tuned out and fell asleep against Angel, keeping a tight grasp around him as he tuned out completely. Angel smiled and kissed his forehead again, holding him close as he slept. He felt safe and warm… And free. Now he wanted to know what exactly Alastor did. He’d ask later. He quietly said “I love you,” to Alastor before he too fell asleep. 

[fdlvh]

Book review

The Alaska Sanders affair by Joel Dicker 5/5

Description:

April 1999, Mount Pleasant, New Hampshire. The body of a young woman, Alaska Sanders, is found on the shore of a lake. The investigation is quickly closed, the police obtain the confessions of the culprit, who kills himself soon after, and of his accomplice. Eleven years later, however, we discover the case is not really solved. Sergeant Perry Gahalowood, who was conducting the investigation at the time, receives a disturbing anonymous letter. What if he followed a red herring? The help of his writer friend Marcus Goldman, who just had huge success with The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair, inspired by their common experience, will once again be crucial to uncovering the truth. But there is a mystery in the mystery: the disappearance of Harry Quebert. Ghosts of the past return and, among them, the one of Harry Quebert.

Actual thoughts:

This is the third book having Goldman as protagonist (before this there's the truth about the Harry Quebert affair and the Baltimore one) which I encourage to read before Alaska's as you'll be familiar with sergeant Perry despite this book dwelling much more on the obsessive compulsive, funny tie wearing detective and his family. This case was brutal and that's not even taking into account the emotional baggage behind this book's murders. Absolutely genius I couldn't stray from the pages until I'd found out who the murder was. A book that doesn't only keep you guessing until the very end (given that Dicker's MO seems more and more to make compelling accusations against at least eight other characters before the protagonists are able to catch the real killer and using police batons as murder weapons. Like batons really Dicker?) but it was also very entertaining. Small towns where everyone knows everyone, where everyone has a past that entwines with one another which gives many and I mean many possible suspects and good reasons for murder, this book has it all from friendships broken by death and jail to a trigger happy detective (you'll know if you'll read around 600 pages, wink wink. I swear it's worth it).

This book was surprising, from the littlest twist and detail to the bigger picture. What I found especially funny was that the main suspect has been in jail for like two decades, his sister which believes him innocent even changed her life to try and make others believe it as well, she became a police officer and that man still lies constantly during interrogation like, we're trying to get ya out mister! You could do the bare minimum of answering honestly. Not to talk about how heart wretching romance is in this book, the author clearly didn't have luck in relationships while he wrote this or the previous book or... Better not dwell on the author's sentimental life. One thing I can also credit, despite making me cry (the courage, unbelievable right?) is the realism most relationships have in the story; siblings who don't know every tidbit of the other, who question whether they could've actually committed a crime, how they can still love each other despite accusations and doubt. Married couples that simply admit that love's not easy, that it's a day by day work in progress, that sometimes you can love your partner less in the years you're together and that it's no one's fault, that nothing happened, that nothing's different despite the fluctuation of feelings. I love in how many shades one can find jealousy in the book. There's also silent pining, even sexuality realization which isn't born from doubt but from certainty, which doesn't bring stupor or embarrassment, which is taken as it is.

All in all the book was just as perfect as all before it, a great job on everything, the planning must've been hell given everything matters and is taken into account later on in the story (some might find it hard to follow but the book does a great rundown of when and where characters came in possession of used information or deduction).

Now onto Harry, Jesus Christ, this man and his guts. I'm not sure if he deserved a happy ending, nonetheless it had something very telling and poetic about it, something out of Seagulls of Aurora, something that truly suited him and that's all I'm afraid; if you want to know more about the most toxic loves in existence, a missing wrist watch, a death sentence, a far too throughout psychologist, Goldman's old and new friendships (maybe even love) and a sneaky snakey culprit then you'll have to read it for yourself.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!��� you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Welcome, Father...

"Tell us, demon scum." The male agent grabbed the light from the female agent, shoving it in his face, "Who do you work for? Satan?"

"How did you get to our world from the afterlife?"

"Why are youse killing humans?"

"When did you show up here?"

The damned agents finally stoped passing the lights about, giving him a moment to adjust to the situation.

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there, bitch." He snapped at the humans, "First of all, we just woke up from a very nasty shock and I'm still feeling fuckin' woozy, so I'm gonna request you fetch us some coffee before we get into this. I mean, everyone gets coffees in shitty movies with scenes like this, am I right? I want something iced, bitch." Looking over his shoulder, he asked his employee, "Mox?"

Raising his nose, Moxxie began, "I'll have a Neopolitan cappuccino, more cappu than cino, make sure it's got no more than four ounces of milk, the beans won't have the right texture otherwise, and make sure they spell my name correctly on the cup they always put "Foxy" or "Roxy", I hate that."

"If you can't handle that, I'll have a Venti traditional Misto. Please use soy milk with two blond shots Affogato and Ristretto. I'd also love three vanilla pumps at the very bottom. Then, add the coffee after, then-"

"Enough!" The male agent snapped, "We aren't getting youse coffee!"

"Wow, I was getting massive douche chills just there, Mox." He told him proudly, "Congrats!"

"If we have to, we are willing to resort to torture methods to get answers out of you nasty hell beasts!" The female agent failed to sound threatening.

"When you say "tortured", do you mean physical or psychological?" Moxxie asked in his typical know-it-all tone, "Physical seems counterproductive; we would likely tell you anything if it meant an end to the pain, and you have no way of knowing what was true." He spouted at the humans.

"Or we might like it too much." He but in, "And then you got a whole new thing to deal with."

The male agent leaned down, raising a bore "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you're stupid, huh? I can work with stupid. Daddy Likey Dummy!" Blitzø taunted the agent.

"Good one sir, Daddy likey-" Moxxie sputtered, squirming in his chair.

"You better stop laughin' at us." The female agent threatened.

"Yeah! You're the ones at our mercy!" The male agent yelled at him, grabbing his collar

"It's hard to resist, I'm really sorry. I mean, considering your approach thus far, you've had us tied up here for what, hours?" Mox cut in, "And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are!" Moxxie mocked the agents like the nerd he was.

"What are you?" The female agent asked, a curious tone coming to the females voice.

"I'm a Virgo." Moxxie told her, smugness dripping from his voice.

Both Imps burst into laughter, the agents only getting more frustrated.

Just as the male agent was gonna snap at them, the door to the room suddenly swung open.

An unnatural amount 9f light poured into the room, blinding them all for a brief moment. Once there eyes adjust, they found a silhouette standing in the doorway.

They were dressed in black, looking up a distinct shine came from his eyes, the figure wearing glasses.

Walking into the room, the figure spoke, "The question isn't what they are? The question is why there here?" He spoke cryptically.

Stepping closer the male agent came to meet the stranger halfway, "Who da Hell ah' you and how'd you get in here?" The male agent demanded.

Raising his gaze the stranger wore a smile.

The agent noticeably reacted. Stumbling back "F-f-f-father Cain... W-what are you's doin here?" He sputtered.

This 'father' just smile at him, "My associates informed me you acquired two new specimens." He looked at him, "I've come to process them." He spoke menacingly.

Father cain looked over the agents shoulder, gazing at him and Moxxie. "Excellent job My child. I always knew my faith was well placed." The father told the agent, patting his shoulder.

The agent seemed taken aback, "Th-thank you Sir." He spoke, a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

"Father Cain?" The female agent asked, walking up to 'father' Cain. "Last I heard you were down at some beach on Spring break."

Smiling at the pair, father cain raised a finger, "Ive no time for such hedonistic pleasures. Not while the Lords work is to be done" He said happily.

"Now" He began cheerfully "I need a table if I am to do my work." He spoke firmly, raising a medium sized doctors bag, that seemed to appear from nowhere.

The male agent snapped to attention, quickly running about before rushing into the back room.

Walking forwards, Father Cain removed his glasses, staring down at him. "My, my, my, they certainly did a good job. Quite a pair of specimens you have here." He spoke to himself.

Raising a brow, Blitzø wore a little grin. "Oh yeah? You should see my junk, now thats a specimen." He spoke in his usual cocky tone.

'Father' Cain just smiled, slowly walking around to Moxxie inspecting him as well. "And unharmed, very impressive." The 'Father' told the female agent.

A moment later, the male agent returned, awkwardly dragging in a large wooden table. Dropping it down, he gave a few deep puffs, "There ya go 'Fatha', will this do?"

'Father' Cain smiled told him, gratefully telling him "That will do perfectly, thank you my child."

Walking over, the 'Father' placed his bag down before opening it and pulling out a myriad of odd and strange objects.

There was a series of shiny items and tools. Although a small wooden case caught his attention, the Imp couldn't help but think it didn't belong.

"Hey, uh, you guys seem pretty chummy and we'd hate to be a third wheel, so we'd be happy to leave you to it." He cut in smugly, hoping to get a rise from one of them.

And that he did, the male agent trying to snap at him, only to be tempered by this 'Father' Cain

Calming down, the male agent asked, "What did you mean, when you came in Sit. That it's not "What they are, it's why there here?'"

Smiling, Father Cain patted his shoulder, "I'm glad you caught that, I always knew you were sharp."

He smoke warmly, "I said that because, simply put. I know what they are. They are Imps." He said it simply.

That actually surprised him, even Moxxie reacted, releasing the slightest gasp.

Looking over the father just had a eerie smile, clearly happy with there reaction.

Both agents looked confused, "Imps?" They asked each other.

The father released a deep sigh, "Yes, Imps. Imps are the very lowest of the low in hell, as well as the lowest of the Hellbornes, or Hellspawn, I can never seem to remember which is the proper term."

Walking over, Father Cain placed a finger under his chin, raising his head to meet his gaze. "Your responsible for the death of a two hundred and sixty three humans." He told him coldly.

"Yeah, but I wanna know is why?" The female agent asked, "If they were just killing humans for shits and giggles, why not just kill wherever and whenever?" She asked.

Nodding his head, "Because..." Father Cain stood up, "They do serve a higher demon, but not Satan."

Standing up, the 'Father' walked to his bag, pulling a yellow folder out. "They've killed hundreds, and the only thing that connects them...? Death."

There was another pause, before he spoke again, "But not there deaths. Each person they've killed has had someone directly related to there lives die in the past decade."

Walking over to the Imps, the 'Father' showed them a series of pictures. Blitzø recognised them... they were targets they'd killed.

"There not killing them for a demon lord, there killing them for other human souls. I imagine with a the ability to travel to the human world, you've turned revenge into a buisness." He said simply, tossing the pictures to the side.

Crouching down, the 'Father' stared at him coldly before asking "Who's book did you use to get here, Demon?"

Blitzø stared back at him, the Imp doing his best to keep calm. But he could tell this human was clearly more dangerous than the other two idiot 'demon hunters'.

Standing up, 'Father' Cain told the other agents coldly, "Leave us. Remove any cameras. I dont want any sort of witness."

"What?" The female agent asked aghast, "We caught these 'Imps' there our score and we'll be interrogating them." She snapped at the 'Father', only for the the father to calmly stare at her.

Before he could speak, the male agent grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her out of the room he spoke hastily "P-please forgive her, Sir. She doesn't fully understand the importance of your work."

The female agent put a fight, but was quickly pulled out of the room, slamming it behind him.

Now with just the three of them, 'Father' Cain removed his glasses before placing them on the table.

Stretching his neck, he removed the white collar piece at the front of his shirt, placing it in his coat pocket.

"Now" he began coldly "shall we begin the fun?"

Turning around, Blitzø decided now was a good time to speak up. "Fun, aye? What kinda fun we talkin. Shots, blow, maybe a good old fashioned threesome?" He asked, hoping to get under this 'Father' Cain's skin.

He was surprised, however, when the 'Father' just laughed, glancing over his shoulder at him.

"Your tricks won't work on me demon. I'm used to your tricks by now." He spoke happily, grabbing a small gun like object. Placing that down, he inspected a series of bottles.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Blitzø spoke up. "You clearly know more us then those dumbass agent dickwads did, so... what's your game?" He asked, trying to be serious.

The human stopped for a moment, looking over his shoulder, he spoke up, "I know much about you. For instance, your the other Imps boss, hence he calls you Sir." He spoke coyly, still inspecting the myriad of items he'd brought.

"I also know you've killed people on three different continants, although I wonder how many you came up to kill specifically and how many were collateral." He spoke again.

Turning around he held a small bottle, walking forwards he leaned over Blitzø "I also know you can only get to the living world if your a succubus, a demon lord, or... you have a Grimoire."

Blitzø chuckled, "What is that some kinda fish?" He asked, trying to play dumb.

The 'Father' chuckled, shaking his head, "Besides how do you know I'm not a succubus, I can hold my own in the sack." He spoke smugly.

The 'Father' stared at him, an eerie smile crossing his lips.

"You want to know how i know what you are?" He asked coldly, cold eyes sending a shiver down his spine and not in the good way.

Before he could ask what I was, the father reach forwards, ripping a hole in his pants leg. "What the fuck?!" He yelled at him, "These are my good pants!"

Not minding him, the 'Father' removed a second bottle. "This" He showed him a small blue bottle, "Is poisen to Succubus." He said simply, opening the bottle and revealing an eye dropper, dropping two little droplets on his leg.

Nothing happened, the cool liquid sliding down and observing into his pant leg. Putting the bottle away He showed the original brown bottle, "This... is for Imps." He said simply.

Opening the bottle, it revealed another eye drop, holding it over his thigh, he dropped a single drop on his leg.

This time his whole body reacted, he pulled against his bindings as he released a blood curdling screech.

It felt like someone was jamming a molten hot poker into his thigh. It went on for minutes, the Imp whining in pain. "What the fuck do you want you sick fuck?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

A small smile crossed the 'Father's' lips before he stood up and told him "I want to show you something."

Walking over to the table, he grabbed that wooden case before bringing it over to the Imps.

Crouching down besides the both of them, he told the both of them "These are my most prized possessions." He spoke warmly, running his hand across the wooden case.

"What'cha got there? Ya dildo collection?" He tried to sound smug, though the Imp was still writhing in pain.

He heard moxxie tried to laugh, but it died in his throat, the smaller Imp still terrified by his boss's earlier reaction.

Opening the case, he revealed several colourful arrow heads, each one varying in size, shape and colour.

It took a long time, the imp looking over the arrow heads before he realised, 'Those aren't arrow heads... there demon tails.'

"Fuck..." Blitzø gasped, he heard Moxxie sputter out a similar cuss, just as scared behind him.

The 'Father' on the other hand, seemed quite proud, gently trailing his fingers across the tail heads.

"These are my life's work" He spoke calmly, "I've dedicated my life to hunting demons like you." He trailed his fingers across the tails, "Most of these are from Succubus. They can come and go from my world to yours the easiest, so most of the demons we find are Succubus."

He pointed to two crimson tail tips, "But these two... these two are special."

Leaning in, he spoke gently "These two... are from Imps." The revelation seemed to bring bile into the back of Blitzøs throat.

"Jesus..." moxxie said shakily, turning his head and throwing up.

Blitzø took a deep breath, doing his best not to throw up. Looking back at the human he found him holding up a tail head.

"This one" he told him, twirling it between his fingers, "I got at a little beach city. The city getting my attention after a giant demonic fish had popped up. Sound familiar." He asked with a smirk.

"Unfortunately most of them had used there demonic charm to escaped the police before I arrived... key word being, 'most'." He told him, turning his attention back on the tail head.

"I got this one from a succubus. She hid herself as a chubby little black woman. She played dumb, just like you, and much like you she was cocky and ignorant." Placing the tail tip into the container, he said coldly, "But now..."

He left the question open, clearly trying get in there heads. The problem being... it was working.

Standing up the human didn't speak for several long moments, before he placed the case on Blitzøs lap, gently telling him "Hold this"

Blitzø's whole body froze up, a deep sickness growing in his stomach as he felt the cool wooden case on his lap.

The human walked over to the mirror Blitzø only just noticed. The human stared at it for a long moment, the silence in the room becoming palpable.

Until the silence was dashed when the 'Father' smashed his arm through the mirror, before throwing his body back smashing the male agent through the mirror and slamming him into the wall.

Looking at his slumped form, 'Father Cain turned back to the now broken mirror, finding the terrified female agent standing there.

Releasing a deep sigh, the 'father' began climbing in through the now broken double sided mirror.

"It was your doing, wasn't it?" He asked, "I said I needed no witnesses, but you always did hold him back. What a waste of potential." The 'Father' told her, before grabbing her and dragging her through the window.

Bringing her to her knees, he grasped the sides of her head.

The woman desperately clawing at his arms. The female agent releasing a desperate cry for mercy as he began crushing her head.

Blood began trailing from her eyes and nose, crying out until her head splattered between his hands, sending a splatter of bone and brain matter across his face.

Dropping her now destroyed head, he realised it, the now sludge like head hit the ground with a wet splat.

Before the 'Father' flicked his hands, looked back at the Imps, "What the fuck are you?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

The human only smiled, walking over, he gently grabbed the wooden case before walking back over and placing it on the table.

Walking over to the now collapsed male agent, he placed his foot on the side of his head. "I... am alpha and Omega." He said coldly, staring him right in the eyes before crushing the other agents head beneath his foot.

Walking back to the table, he grabbed a red cloth, wiping his face before placing on his glasses he turned to the two Imps.

"Oh Satan... Oh, Satan please, please help me" Moxxie begged, clearly losing his shit. "Please just let me see Millie one last time, I don't want to die."

Before Blitzø could snap at his limp dick employee for showing weakness, the roof began to rumble, bit suddenly gave way, Millie falling through carrying a battle axe.

"MILLIE!!!" Moxxie practically cried, tears of joy beading in his eyes.

"MOX!" Millie cried back, rushing over and getting them out of ther bindings.

Just after that Loona broke through the door, Blitzø taking a moment to tell her how proud he was to see her in the field.

Now all free and together they turned to the 'Father', finding him still very much cool and collected, the sight sending a bone chilling shiver down his spine.

"Just in time" The human spoke, seemingly happy at the outcome "Its so good to see a family reunited."

"Now I imagine one of you have my Grimoire?" He asked inspecting his fingers. "Give it to me and I'll let you leave."

Now it was Blitzøs turn to chuckle, "Nah, I don't think so." He spoke cockily, reaching into his emergency pack for a gun.

The 'Father' just chuckled again, standing up straight he snapped his finger. And like it were choreographed, dozens of suit wearing humans burst into the room.

"Gentlemen!" He addressed them "These demonic scum have killed your commanders. And they shall do it again and again and again, until you send them back to hell." He told them, stepping into the back room.

The fight after that was one of the best Blitzø had ever had, although it would have been even better if he didn't have this injured leg.

Regardless, the whole thing was so bad ass and everyone was working together so well. He even got to see his Loony kick some ass.

Firing a missle, from his over sized launcher, he cleared what was left of the agents.

He'd though that was it, there weren't anybody left to stop them.

He was wrong.

The lights to switch to red, an alarm start blaring through the facility.

They all made for the door, only for a series of doors to slam in there face, locking them in the room.

His Loony tried desperately to read the book, but couldn't see anything in the crimson light that filled the room

It was then he heard a slow clapping, all of them turning to find the 'Father' giving them a condescending clap.

"Well done, Hellspawn, Well done. You've killed all the witnesses, depleted your ammunition and now I know you can't read the Grimoire in crimson light. Well done."

Standing before them, even outnumbered and unharmed, the 'Father' seemed to hold total control of the situation.

Before he could think of something any, all the air seemed to such out of the room, demonic whispers filling the room like shadows.

"You dare threaten my Impish little plaything~" the whispers spoke.

He knew this voice, but like his friends and family, he chose not to speak, too caught up in the moment.

Screens flew off the wall, avian footprints trailed across the floor. The bodies of the dead agents rose to there feet, eyes black as they began the intricate process of drawing some demonic symbol from there own blood.

Stepping back the 'Fther' looked about, before smiling, "Finally" He whispered, pulling out a flask and began chugging it.

Shadows seemed to slither like a million black snakes crawled across the floor, disappearing at the 'Fathers' feet.

There was a long pause before the human bent over and violently projectile vomited, throwing up what seemed like gallons of black liquid from his mouth.

The vomiting stopped, the human standing back up.

The back liquid slowly pulled itself to gathering, slowly morphing into a figure.

The black tar slowly formed into feathers, limbs and fingers, a set of crimson eyes appearing in the black goo.

The figure appeared to be Stolas. But this was not the elegant demon lord of hell.

This being was a wretched, wounded animal, covered in filth.

The 'Father' just wiped his mouth, that cold gaze returning to his eyes. Stepping forwards he grabbed Stolas by the filthy collar, staring him down.

The owl demon was a sputtering mess, coughing up black liquids as he tried to breathproperly.

The owl looked up at him.

And for the very first time in wjat was likely a millennia of existence, Stolas looked Terrified.

Not scared.

Terrified.

Grabbing at the arms of the human, the Prince of Hell sputtered out, "W-what are you?"

The human stopped, looking down at the owl, leaning down and whispered, "I am the beginning... and i am the end..."

The owl just stared up at him in horror, the humans hand coming to wrap around his throat, the demon feebly attempting to break free from his grasp.

There was a long moment where the only sound in the room was the prince's pitiful wheezing, frail little cries coming from the owl as the life was squeezed out of him.

The sounds were seemingly corked by a wet smack ringing out.

Blitzø had taken one of the agents weapons, a large knife and had impaled the 'Human' through the lower stomach.

There was a long moment of silence, before the 'human' slowly turned to look at him with that same cold gaze.

Without releasing Stolas, he pulled his arm back and smacked Blitzø, sending him sliding back to his friends.

Reaching down, he grabbed the knife, yanking it out of his back without hesitation.

Nothing came from his wound, and when pulling the knife out, no blood stained it's blade.

With knife in hand, he released the owl, letting his pathetic form hit the ground, the owl desperately gasping for breath.

Leaning down, you grasped Stolas' wrist, the owl releasing a pathetic little gasp of pain, followed by a frail little whimper as the 'Human' slid the blade across his wrist.

But what came next left them all shocked.

Bringing his wrist to his mouth, he pressed his mouth down before greedily suckling the foul blood straight from his veins.

He drank down the demons fowl blood, not making a sound cept the muscles of his throat contracting to push the fowl liquid down his throat.

The demons black blood flowed down his throat. Every demon in the room just watched, to shocked to think and to fearful to do anything as you had your way with the Prince.

After a few minutes of the 'Father' drinking the demons blood, he finally released the demons wrist. The owl quickly clutching his wrist to his chest as he desperately clawing to get away from the 'human'.

The 'Father' stood there, panting as a demons black blood stained his lips.

When he finally opened his eyes, they held a Unholy glint to them.

Wiping his lips he walked forwards, calmly packing what few items had survived the fighting into his bag before Putting on his glasses and placing the small white band into his shirt collar.

Walking past the now cowering demon Prince, he leaned over and pressed one of the buttons on the dashboard, instantly the lights returned to normal.

Stepping before the group they awaited some sort of attack, or threat, what they got instead was a single phrase "Excuse me."

He said it so simply, each hellborne took a moment to make sure they'd heard correctly.

Each of them just stared for a moment before Millie spoke up, "What?"

The human raised a brow, lowering his glasses he asked again, this time his voice cold, threateningly cold, "Excuse me."

The demons awkwardly stepped to the side, giving him a clear path to walk.

Walking past them he gave them a slight nod, "Thank you."

The demons were all in shock, silently watching the 'human' walk away from them.

"That's it?" Blitzø asked before he could stop himself, quickly slamming his hands to his mouth.

The 'Father' stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder, he smiled, "Kill you later." He told them playfully, lowering his glasses and giving them a wink.

He walked away, the eerie sound of his shoes on cold tile floors permanently burned into there memory.

Hey Hey, I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to try something a bit different. I had the idea for this in my head since episode 6 came out and I just really like the idea of an unknown entity showing up with either motive or intentions clear to anyone.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, I really wanna start writing more of my own original ideas, so expect more content in the future. Bye Bye.

[lesferatu]

Just some thoughts on second chances that I wrote the night of the CR campaign finale but forgot to post till right now. As such, it is a reflection on the campaign before the wrap up and I really don't feel like going through it to see if my opinion changed after the wrap up, so here ya go.

Spoilers for character arcs through out the campaign and episode 141 (as well as a Long Post) below cut

The Mighty Nein campaign has been a story of second chances and living beyond your past while staying true to who you are. And love...lots of it.

Fjord was a sailor who followed more than he lived for himself. Vandren showed him how to be a sailor and how to be the man he grew into and, in the end, he tried to become Vandren. Fjord's second chance came twice with a sword and a patron. His first second chance was a false start but one that let him reach his true self through trial, error, and struggle. His second second chance was a much softer beginning; surrounded by friends who loved him for all he was and could be, with a Goddess who cares at his back and a purpose of his own choosing to drive him. He found someone who loved him for who he was, not how he presented himself to the world.

In the end, Fjord is still a sailor but one who lives and loves on his own terms and fjorges his own way.

Jester lived a sheltered life but one full of love and chaos. It was never bad or one not worth living, but for her it was incomplete. Her mother hid her from the world with good intent but it left her naïve of the true nature of the world; books can only teach you so much about life and often it is a romanticized version. Jester's second chance came of her own making early on and yet took a long time to come to fruition. She locked that man on the balcony and, in the end, was shunted into a world she knew about in theory but was clueless of in practice: the real story her books were based on. She spent the campaign becoming disillusioned with the idea of story book love and life and yet found a real love and life along the way. 

Jester never loses her love of romance, stories, and fantasy but found the truth in them all the same that made life real.

Yasha lived a life given and taken from her against her will for many decades. Her clan dictated so much of her destiny that, when she chose to find her own pocket of happiness within it, said destiny was ripped from her along with that happiness. That loss became the chains that a new given destiny used to bind her against her will once more; her mind was taken as well as her life so that no pockets of happiness could be found again. Yasha's second chance came with Mollymauk, then the Mighty Nein, then Beau; choices upon choices that given destiny tried to take once more but, in the end, free will won. 

Yasha lost so much because of love–or rather because of other's reaction to said love–but love saved her in the end. She loved so hard, she found her own destiny, broke the chains that held her, and now her pockets of happiness are overflowing.

Beau's life was one of bucking the system and ignoring expectations. She was forced to live her father's regret and fear and rebelled hard against both. Her rebellion got her trapped by the system she tried to escape. That system taught her much and yet, when she was let loose from it, she rebelled once more. Anger and snark can only get you so far and, in the end, it was love and learning that got her farther. She thought her fists were her best quality but her mind was as sharp as her strikes and tongue. Once she let herself use it to its fullest, she cut through every mystery in her way. Beau’s second chance came through her friends and understanding how the world wasn't always out to get her and, when it is, it is possible to fight it in a way that changes the world and doesn’t just spite it. She grew into a friend, a lover, and a revolutionary; she went her own way and the system had to struggle to keep up with her. Closure she didn't know she needed was given to her but her second chance was something she made herself.

Beau is still angry and rebellious but she has a true family and influence to back it up. She allowed herself to be soft and it made her strong.

Caleb life was forged for him through pain–his own and others–and manipulation. He was naïve in a destructive way; loyal and trusting to a fault...but to the wrong man, the wrong cause. His trust got his parents killed and his life ruined. He didn't want a second chance–didn't think he deserved one–but one came to him anyway in the form of a wild group of chaotic idiots and love in many forms. It came in the form of his friends, of a chance to right wrongs–though not his own for the longest time–and in seeing himself in another and offering the forgiveness his new family offered him. It came in the form of an unexpected fight and a legal battle, both fought with his new family at his side. He got revenge for his old self, his old family and loves.

Caleb is not Bren–not truly...anymore–but Caleb can live with that. He found his purpose in making sure that no more Brens have to become Calebs and finding forgiveness and love–however bittersweet in the end–with his narrative foil and the friends who dragged him to redemption.

Veth is another who's life was taken from her. Yes, eventually by death but first by bullies. She was made to hate herself by the cruelty of society and, though she found love and happiness through that, she never let herself be all she could; she could only see what she was not. And Nott she became and she hated Nott. But love saved her; not love for who she used to be, nor who she could be in the future, but who she was right at that moment. It was the love of her friends, her husband, and herself that saved her. Her second chance was finding her way back to her first, but with an understanding of who she truly is; brave, true, smart, and a great mother.

Veth was Nott but she was not...not and by finding the truth in that statement, Nott became Veth. Veth chose the soft life once more in the end but this time of her own volition and it was her found courage that allowed her to do it. 

Caduceus is another sheltered soul but this time of his own choice, though he didn't really think of it that way. He thought he needed to wait for someone to tell him his purpose and he thought someone had when grieving chaos fell upon his doorstep. He helped them find vengeance and closure and that could have been it, but he stayed, sure that he was supposed to. In doing so, he found his family twice–both metaphorically in the Nein and physically at the Menagerie– and found both his purpose and his choice. He led another to salvation just by being himself and a good friend. Caduceus's second chance came by figuring out his given destiny was given by himself, by the adventure he found along the way, and the chosen purpose he found in the end.

Caduceus is the favorite of the Wild Mother and the best friend anyone could ever want, and he chose to be so by following the first chaos he found.

Essek life was, sadly by Dynasty standards, his own; he was not a lost soul given life once more but a new one given power. Knowledge was his driving force and it led to the ruin of many; He wasn't allowed to do what he wanted...so he did what he wanted anyway and it inadvertently started a war. He was okay with that, truly, until the Mighty Nein stumbled into his life and suddenly he was very much not. It was not a betrayal really–though he was definitely guilty of treason–but it was the loss of the Mighty Nein's trust that he feared the most and felt the most when he finally lost it, however briefly. He thought he has lost the only true family he had but really he had found a life to live. His second chance came when he chose to live that life.

Essek's life wasn't given to him so he took it for himself and it ruined him...but love built him back up and showed him that it was better to live life to change than it was to wallow in guilt.

Molly's life, in itself, was a second chance, though not one asked for by Lucien. He forged forward and made it his own. He loved and he created and he left everywhere he went better than when he got there. We never got to see the true end of his new start. Life is not always fair and not every second chance works out in the end...that is, until the end of Lucien. Molly fought to make his new life his own and how dare his original self try and tear down his progress!

Molly's second chance was cut short when he died for his friends and he died once more helping his friends make sure his first chance didn't ruin it.

Kingsley's life, again, was an enforced second chance, though one Molly would approve of. Molly didn't dwell on the past and neither will his brother, his new self. Kingsley saw the love in the Mighty Nein's eyes and never questioned it; all he asked was that he could learn it on his own. He woke up to chaos and love and he embraced it. Molly would have never wanted to be dwelled upon in a way that stifled change and Kingsley lived that. Kingsley's second chance came in the form of a new life and a new coat, but the same friends. He grew into his own self before learning what was taken from the group he had learned to love. The Mighty Nein could have seen him as Molly, could have tried to force him into the hole in their heart and he probably wouldn't have blamed them, yet he was Kingsley in their eyes and he loved them all the more for it. 

Kingsley's life lives true to Molly's ideas of the past: forget it and continue forward and live every second of it to the fullest. His second chance is in the works but he's not hesitating for one second.

The Mighty Nein were a group a fuck ups from the start; barely contained chaos which changed and grew and erupted at every turn. They were volatile at the beginning yet as ride or die as any adventuring party should be. They did not experience the world separately but as a team; each second chance a member got–whether it was sought after or not–was a chance to learn and grow together and grow closer. Their second chance came when a leetle teifling girl walked over to engage with a smelly man and a “halfling” and a purple man and an angel convinced them all to go to the circus

They will always be a chaotic bunch of assholes, no matter how far apart they travel, but now they are a family and nobody can take that from them.

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 9

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously: “Of course, what are big brothers for. Anyway, about my payment, maybe you can forget about the money I owe ya?” Groaning, Levi started walking faster, leaving Mammon and his whining behind as he made his way back to the safety of his room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 9 - Not So Different After All (1754 words)

You were practicing your swordsmanship in the garden clearing when Michael approached you. You’ve been living with the council for 3 decades by now and was confidently running them like Lucifer used to. This left you little time for yourself and you cherished these moments to yourself. That doesn’t mean you don’t like teasing Michael from time to time.

“Good afternoon Y/N”

“Good afternoon to you too Mike. What’s up?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” “Just be glad I don’t call you that at work. Anyway, how can I help you?”

“May I join you?”

“I don’t see why not, but on one condition. If I win, tell me why you despise Lucifer and why you refuse to call him by his new name. If you win, I’ll answer 2 questions with complete honesty, no restrictions on the type of question.”

Michael visibly stiffened at this. He contemplated this for a moment then agreed. He summoned his sword and stood opposite of me in a ready position. I matched his stance and parreyed off with him, signalling the start of our match. Michael started with a calculated quick strike to my neck. I brought my sword up to block his strike and tried to twist it from his grip but he pulled back and made a quick swing toward my left leg. I jumped up and switched to offence striking for his sword arm trying to land a hit. He saw this and backed away. This continued on for a few minutes. Michael attacking and me blocking and returning the favour. After a few more strikes, I saw an opening, he shifted his legs a little too wide. I dropped my weight and swept his feet out from under him. Before he realized, he hit the ground and I was standing above him, my right foot on his sword arm and my sword by his throat.

“Looks like I won.” I withdrew my sword and extended my arm to help him up. He grabbed my hand with a distasteful look on his face, ashamed at making such a mistake and losing to someone with less skill and combat experience than him.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Handing him a towel and some water I sat under a date tree and took a sip from my own bottle.

“Lucifer. I took an interest in it after seeing him practise one day and he took it upon himself to teach me, his excuse being that I should know how to protect myself if I insisted on taking up a blade. Enough of that, you lost, now can you tell me why you despise Lucifer so much?”

Michael took a seat next to me and leaned back against the trunk.

“You mean other than the fact that he went against Father, started a civil war, killed numerous angels, abandoned his duty, embraced the very sins that father forbade us from committing, birthed a demon of wrath, and willingly bowed down to the demon prince and still serves him to this day like a loyal lapdog all because he couldn’t take care of Lillith enough to keep her from trying to break one of our laws to save a human? No, no reason.”

“Wow, and I thought humans were the masters at holding grudges.” I took a swing of my water.

“Think about it, at the root of all that, Lucifer did it to protect his family, to protect his little sister. He may have embraced and embodied the sin of pride, but he pushed all of it away to save her. You don’t really think he serves Diavolo just because he asked him to? His pride would never allow it, and yet he does because by doing so, he can protect his family and the ones he loves. Isn’t that a virtue in Father's eyes, protecting loved ones no matter what you need to sacrifice?”

“Well yes, to an extent. You are supposed to do that, unless it means you defy him. If protecting your family results in you turning your back to him, he’d tell you to leave them behind.”

“Why do you keep calling Lucifer "Samael"?”

“That is the name Father gave him, that is the name I will call him. Samael was my brother and I don’t want to remember him for the destruction he caused but for the moments we shared as brothers. He was the pride of the heavens. Despite that, he embodied humility. He never took advantage of his authority. He always made sure the minority were heard. He worked himself to the point of exhaustion as Father's right hand. He never let the praise get to his head. Despite all that, he still embodied pride. He would never ask for help insisting that he could take care of things. He still took in his siblings and raised them, despite the burdens that were already placed on his shoulders. I used to look up to him and saw him as a role model. I accepted the fact that he is no longer an angel and is now a completely different being. In my mind, Lucifer and Samael are 2 separate creatures. I will remember him as Samael, my brother and best friend and Lucifer as the demon serving Lord Diavolo.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that they aren’t that different from each other? Samael may have taken all the burden and worked himself till he passed out from exhaustion, but Lucifer still does that. I can’t tell you the number of times I would enter his study just to find him clinging to consciousness trying to finish the never ending paperwork for both the Devildom and from his brother's antics. He does his best and works himself to the bone to make sure that his family has a roof over their heads, enough food to eat which I got to tell you is hard considering they are living with someone who embodies the sin of gluttony. He works himself to make sure that Diavolo doesn’t do the same and can focus on running his kingdom and school without having to worry too much about what goes on behind the scenes. Even with all those responsibilities he took, he still makes sure to be there and protect his family. He raised Satan as a first time father with no knowledge on demonic children. He always set aside some time each week, no matter how busy he is to spend some time with the rest of us. He may be harsh, but he isn’t heartless. He may look incapable of it, but he is very caring and compassionate towards the ones he holds close to him. He is still very much the Samael you knew, he just looks a little different.”

“Was your intention just to tell me these things so that I wouldn’t act distasteful to you or Samael?” “No, I just wanted you to see things from an outsider's perspective, nothing more.”

With that, I got up and left Michael in the garden to think about what I had said as I went to shower and finish up any outstanding work before dinner.

In the Devildom After they lost Y/N

After they lost Y/N, Asmo could barely function. Some days, he would lock himself in his room and not come out for days on end. When Beel would come and drop off some food, Asmo would always insist he just leave it outside the door. When Beel would come back to collect the plate, he found that only a small portion was eaten and that more than half of the food was left. They would never find out that it was because he was unintentionally starving himself and that he was dropping his self care routine. Other times he would leave for days on end and when he did eventually come home, he was either stoned or drunk out of his mind, but he always had a lingering scent of sex on him. It continued on like this for weeks before Satan found him. Asmo had just come back after being missing for a week and once again refused to leave his room. This time, Satan insisted on delivering his food. He needed to check on his little brother no matter how much Asmo didn’t want him to. When he got to the door he knocked and announced he was coming in. Without waiting for a reply, Satan broke the lock on the door and was greeted with an emotionally exhausted and physically wrecked Asmo laying face up on his bed. Tears streaming down his face. Satan closed the door and looked around the room noticing how everything was thrown around and the state of what used to be one of the most organized rooms in the house, now looking like a hot mess. Carefully, he cleared a spot on his dresser, making sure nothing got damaged in the process and set the tray down. Next he went to the washroom, equally messed up, and located a washcloth. He ran it under some warm water and went back to Asmo, carefully wiping away any tears and smudged make-up. Slowly, Asmo opened his eyes to look up at the soft expression on Satan’s face. He turned his head the other and screwed his eyes shut.

“Asmo, look at me.”

When he didn’t turn his head, Satan asked again, a little softer and put a comforting hand on his shoulder to ground him.

“Asmo, can you please look at me?”

Slowly, Asmo turned his head towards Satan and reluctantly opened his eyes. Satan gently lifted him up and pulled him into an embrace. Asmo couldn’t take it anymore and broke down on Satan’s shoulder. Satan rubbed soothing circles on Asmo’s back and stroked his tangled hair, grounding him. Eventually, when Asmo stopped crying, he pulled away from Satan with a sad smile on his face. Satan cupped his right cheek.

“It’s alright, we all miss them too. It’s ok to break down. When was the last time you took care of yourself?”

“I don’t know,” Asmo mumbled.

“That’s alright. Let’s get some food into your stomach first.”

Satan spent the rest of the night by his brother's side, cleaning his room and slowly, step by step, bringing back how his brother usually looked like. A glowing masterpiece, worthy of both envy and praise.

[spidersbane]

Hello! Can I get MCU, The Hobbit, and The Man From U.N.C.L.E. ship? 💚

Appearance: She/her. 179,5cm tall, rectangle body shape. Fair skin complexion with quite a few birthmarks. Dyed brown with honey-red highlights, shoulder-length, straight hair with bangs. The left eye is a mix of two colors – a smaller portion of (darker) greyish-blue and a larger portion of hazel; while the right eye is just a (lighter) greyish-blue. Heptagon face shape with two dimples on the left cheek and one on the right cheek (only visible while smiling). A gap between the upper front teeth.

Personality (good and bad traits): Ever since I was a kid, I was always quite mature for my age – I identify myself as an old soul. I come off as polite and well-mannered to strangers, yet I tend to keep it to myself by being reserved. But, that’s because I have social anxiety and I’m nervous and shy when meeting/talking to people. The only people I’m comfortable with being with my inner circle – closest friends and family. I am usually more “open” with my friends than with my family. With my friends I can be my “truest-self” – I smile more, I laugh more, I feel more accepted and understood. I am the mom and the fashionista of the group. Don’t get me wrong, I am fiercely protective of my family, especially of my mother and younger sister. But, lately, I’ve been feeling like the “black sheep” of the family, Cinderella who’s been taken advantage of. I express my affection for the people I care about in little, but practical, ways. I can be a little stiff when it comes to open, gushy displays of affection. Others turn to me for help and advice. I’m kind-hearted and generous, always ready to help a person in need. Always have been motherly towards children. Very awkward at keeping small talk (usually with people that I’m not that close with). Absolutely, hate speaking in front of a public, and if I do, because of my nervousness, I tend to mess up my words and/or I practice whatever I’m about to say in my head at first. I appreciate the simplicity and am often most comfortable when I’m not getting too much attention from the world. I am sensitive – both to criticism and to others’ feelings (I sponge up the feelings and moods of people and the environment around me). Have a hard time saying no or expressing my true thoughts, feelings. I get influenced by other people’s opinions/thoughts quite hard (I take everything to the heart), that is why I tend to keep a lot to myself (may come off as a little bit tense, secretive, mysterious). I avoid the harsh reality by daydreaming (almost every day) – imagining myself in situations far from my current circumstances. Sort of like a self-escape. I worry a lot and overthink almost everything. I am easily distracted and my attention span can be quite short. I have an internal struggle between my needs and wants. I can lack focus and be indecisive as a result – when I decide on one route, I am pulled in another direction at the same time (“But what if…”, “on the other hand...”). That is why I’m having a bit of a struggle with deciding what I want to do in the future (career-wise). I am easily overwhelmed by pressure and stress. There is a self-destructive side to me (self-critical, lack of self-confidence) that I’m working on by confronting my fears (coming out of my shell). Don’t like taking pictures, or other people taking pictures of me. I feel most content when I’ve straightened out all the details of everyday life. I have a routine, that I follow by mostly every day, and if something small changes in that routine, I start to have a small internal anxiety attack. Also, I like to do things my own way, like, when it comes to cleaning the house or organizing stuff, etc. I get triggered even if people don’t do the laundry the way I do. I guess you could describe me as a perfectionist, clean/control freak. In triggering situations I can be impulsive, spontaneous, quick to act. Quick flare-ups of anger/annoyance when being provoked on my patience. Even when I’m feeling low, I manage to find humor in life and have fun with whatever I do have. Although I tend to bottle things up, I am an emotional person and my emotions are genuine – I love and care deeply and passionately and wish no ill will upon anyone, yet it hards for me to imagine someone falling in love with me or just liking me.

Hobbies, likes: My hobbies are cleaning, writing (re-writing song lyrics, making small notes, writing stories), listening to any type of music, catching up on my favorite films and TV shows, hanging out with friends, going to the cinema, or the club, being out in nature, reading, traveling. I like history, cooking, fashion magazines (or fashion in general), road trips, spirituality, mythology, books, orange juice, previous decades, cottage-core, dark academia.

Overall: Hufflepuff. INFP-T. Bi-sexual. Pisces-Aries cusp sign. “Looks like could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll.” A feminist, support LGBTQ+ community. That’s it, thank you!

hey @pataim ! thanks so much for sending in your request, and thank you so much for your honesty about yourself. like it takes a lot to air yourself out like that, and I admire your strength for it. but also fINALLY a 'Man from U.N.C.L.E' ship! I love that movie and attempt Illya's accent all the time, so this will be fun :)

For the MCU/Marvel - I ship you with Steve Rogers/Captain America ! 

no one can tell me that Steve doesn’t have a set routine honestly, so let me just get that out there 

he seems intimidating at first, esp as a public figure and Avenger, but Steve is nothing but passionate about what he does. so it may clash w your lack of direction, but I could honestly see him envying that a lil bit, like it’s not that you don’t have direction, it’s the fact that you still have a choice in the matter. 

your love of history put you in a museum, here you bumped into Steve in a horrible disguise. he struck up the conversation first, and once you got past the whole “holy crap that’s Captain America”, you could actually engage with him in the material and boi was he smitten 

he would love to join you when your rewatched your fave things, bc not only is he catching up on more media he missed out on, he’s also getting to know your interests in a way that’s comfortable with you. it avoids all the small talk, but leaves room for discussion after the film/show ! 

since you tend to sponge up a lot of what other people believe, it’s totally Steve who actually tries to question what you think and what you feel about things. he’s someone who encourages you to have your own opinions and to stay true to those thoughts. so while with him, you can rely on him to learn about yourself, you also gain skills for independence

overall, Steve is super patient, and despite his chaotic job as Cap, he takes comfort in his routine, and would find comfort incorporating a partner’s routine into his life. and as you grow in a relationship with him, he’s patient about teaching you how to be your own person, and helping you learn more about yourself. and while it’s uncomfortable, you grow stronger throughout being with him :) 

For The Hobbit - I ship you with Bilbo Baggins !

Bilbo is the definition of introvert, and you're right there with him

not that introversion is ever a bad thing, bc it isn't. but Bilbo is quite content to sit in his little hobbit hole and vibe. like Gandalf had to come find him, ya know. dude disappeared from his own bday.

but anyways. it's not that Bilbo lacks purpose, it's just that he's more content with a quieter life. and it seems like his quiet life would balance you out well! like the Shire is so so chill, and there doesn't really seem to be a lot of pressure on the hobbits to pick a profession. like they just genuinely do what needs to get done.

similarly, Bilbo is the type who seems a little bothered by mushy displays of affection. exhibit a: disappearing from his own bday. like he's much more the type to refill your tea when y'all are reading by the fireplace, which he would totally do w you

it will probs take you a little while to warm up to each, given just how introverted you both are. but when he explains that he has set ways of doing things, then if they're compatible w your ways of doing things, then it doesn't take you long to open up to him

like it'll be a little jarring, but he takes comfort in his routines too. and it'll be an event trying to incorporate both of your ways of life together, but he's willing to do it

overall, yours is a very quaint partnership, built on deep respect for one another. neither of you are going to push the other to do things you aren't into. and y'all just live your best lives together tbh :)

For The Man From U.N.C.L.E - I ship you with Illya Kuryakin !

I love my big Russian spy so much, so this is fun for me

so Illya is the epitome of reserved and generally quiet, so it might take a while to really break down his walls and talk to him. and he's not quite sure what to do with you once you join the team

but, he's playing his game of chess alone, and when you sit down and ask to play with him, he opens up a little more after that

if you're one who get sent out on mission with the team, get ready, bc sometimes those missions require a lot of improvising. but you'd probably be at whatever 'base' was, helping run operations from a more secure place. but Illya and Napoleon improvise a lot, leading to a lot of headaches for you and Waverly

Illya has small bursts of anger, but similar to Gaby, most times, you can intervene and he doesn't get violent. or when he does, he tries to make sure it isn't in front of you. but bc you care so deeply for him, you're there for him in the aftermath. and that's how you show your love for him.

by patching him up if he gets cut, by talking him down when he's angry. and just generally trying to take care of him. and he totally does the same for you, especially if you get sent out into the field

and much to Illya's dismay, Solo doesn't refrain form making jokes about you. but if you can take them in stride, then Solo welcomes you into the team just as well :)

[barbecuebabybackribs]

Sex With Rosalie Hale Would Include: (Male Reader)

(After my Jasper version of this someone requested Rosalie so here ya go! I hope yall enjoy- and feel free to request more of these :) men, women, vampire, shifter, I’m open to anything (: Also I’m sorry this isn’t my best work)

NSFW BELOW CUT!!

Human Mate:

Okay, It takes you awhile to actually have sex.

Partially because she is genuinely concerned for your safety

Although mainly because she’s got trauma she never truly worked through

Sure she killed those who harmed her, and thought she moved on for decades but when the situation does arise where you could be intimate- it triggers her.

She’s thrown right back into that trauma she had buried many years ago

You comforted her and suggested seeing a professional since there was only so much you could offer to her- she agreed to go to a support group.

With your comfort and support and through the support group she was able to actually tackle her demons.

Before the act you both set up boundaries, safe words, and assure each other if either of you get uncomfortable the other would not be upset if they had to stop.

Once those boundaries and safety guards are in place, that’s when the fun can start.

First time is pretty slow and vanilla

She’s laid flat on your bed, her hands caressing the sides of your face as you place gentle kisses on her neck, slowly undoing her blouse.

You trace your finger over he body, becoming aroused at the mere sight of her- she’s so captivatingly beautiful

She appreciates that your moving slowly but she’s been wanting you since the moment she saw you- so while your entranced in her beauty, she pulls you closer, her forceful hands exploring every part of you

You got the message and quickly started kissing down her body

When you finally reached the place she need you most her hands found there way into your fair- nails scraping lightly against your scalp

She wasn’t the screaming type, but she was the moaning type

Loud moans would leave her lips as you ate her out, soft tugs at your hair spurring you on

Her unnecessary breathing would quicken as you sent her over the edge, her hips bucking and grip tightening around you hair

You barely had time to wipe your mouth before she was on you again- now you were on your back.

“Rose!” You moaned out as she lightly grinded against you, pulling your face into a kiss

Lightly nips at your lips as she trails her hand down to your aching length

She relishes in the soft moans and groans that leave your lips, she wants to make that moment last forever- but she needed more of you

Leans closer to your ear and asks if you’re ready

When you say you are, she slowly lowers herself onto you

You both let out loud moans as she squeezes around you

You move your hand to her hips but before you can thrust into her, she rolls her hips into you, causing you to roll your head back and arch into her

She’d take over most of the control, holding your hips down as she rides you

You run your hands up and down her sides, caressing every part of her you can reach, moaning out small praises

When you both start to reach your highs she places her hands on both sides of your head, stealing a kiss from you, loving how you buck your hips into her

She breaks the kiss when you thrust into her particularly harshly, loud moans leaving her lips

You both create a balance of you and her moving, as you finally reach your highs you both become more erratic with your movements

After the first time you both open up to more then just the basics

Rosalie is very protective, so if a human or a vampire ever threatens you or tries to flirt with you- she’ll have you screaming her name

Rosalie is a primarily dominant switch

She does like to forfeit control a tad, she had to makes so many decisions in life and letting you make them occasionally- it’s like she can finally breath again

She doesn’t like being tied up, but she’s not one to shy away from tying you up

Tying you to the headboards, watching your muscles strain as you desperately try to touch her

Painfully slow pumps of her hand, tauntingly slow touches

She won’t lie she does like receiving oral more than giving, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t enjoy giving

She’ll go down on you while you tied up, or when she’s pinning you to the bed/ wall- your no match for her strength and she loves how you desperately try to take control of your pleasure 

She’s got a voyeurism kink- meaning she likes to watch you masturbate

She could almost cum untouched by watching you

She loves how she can hear your heart beating faster at her watching you and the blush littering your face

Mutual Masturbation is also a kink of hers

She doesn’t like being in earshot of her family, she already has to deal with Alice, Edward, and Jasper being able to tell- the rest of the family and she’d probably go mad

It doesn’t mater where as long as they aren’t around- you’ve had sex in the forest, in closets, at your house, at her house when the others are away, in her car, in hotels- anywhere she can get her hands on you

She loves when you ear her out, practically worshiping her

She’ll also ride you face if your comfortable with it, gripping you hair and chanting you name

She likes when you catch he by surprise- especially if you make sure no ones around- girl goes from 0-100 real fast

You guys have two go to positions- Her on top of you or you pressing her against the wall, holding up one of her legs.

Your moans spur her on, she loves to hear you cry out for her- usually after she gives you multiple orgasms and your completely overstimulated- almost to the point of tears

She’s snuck up on you in the shower multiple time, one moment you’ll be washing shampoo out of your hair- the next moment you’ve got two cold arms wrapping around you pumping your length

She’ll push you against the shower wall, pressing her cold body up against your body- only leaving enough space for her hand pumping your length

You’ll place both your hands on her face, kissing her to distract her from the fact your moving to press her against the wall instead

You gently massage her breasts with one hand while the other leads further down, rubbing little circles around her clit- earning needy moans to fall from her mouth

After a few minutes of fore-play you can’t last any long, lifting her left leg up and wasting no more time you quickly set a steady pace- earning moans from the both of you

If she’s especially desperate for you she drags you into her car- driving just far enough to stay of the way of any on-lookers

You’ll immediately know what’s coming, especially when almost in the blink of an eye the car is park and Rosalie is on top of you

“Rose.” You’d moan when she finally quits her relentless attack on your mouth.

There would be no time wasted stripping all your clothes, you’d push up her shirt and pull down her jeans, She’d undo your belt and unbutton you jeans

When she needed you, she’d take you.

In the aspect of aftercare, she’s very giving.

She’ll always fight against you giving her aftercare- believing you need it more

But she does appreciate it when you clean her up, soothing her hair and telling her how much you love her.- she’ll also do the same for you, making sure you weren’t hurt and cleaning you up.

She loves nuzzling against your chest afterwards- being in your warm embrace is something she never thought she needed until she had it

She never feels more loved then in the moments after you have sex.

She likes hearing your heart beat slowly calm as you talk

She loves you, and she always make sure you know that- and on a few occasions she thanks you for not being like her past “lover”

(I- I really don’t like this but it’s the third time I wrote it so I really just need to post it- I might rewrite this in a few weeks so tell me if you’d want to be tagged)

[rpf-bat]

My Cellmate’s A Killer

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Drama, Romance

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 22. Prompt: “Prison”.

Gerard is a convict, currently serving time for murder. When he receives a serious injury, the prison warden brings him to the hospital, where you work. As you nurse him back to health, you form an unexpected bond with him. But, can you really trust a killer? 

Trigger warnings for mentions of past violence, and sexual assault. 

The doctors told you that the patient was a criminal. He “lived” at the maximum security prison on the edge of town. Apparently, he’d gotten injured in his cell, and the guards had no choice but to bring him here, to the hospital, to receive surgery. 

You didn’t care. You were a nurse - that meant you would treat any person that needed medical help. You nervously approached the police officer, who was guarding the front door of the hospital room. 

“It’s time for Mister, uhh….,” you glanced down, checking your chart. “Mister Way’s next dose of medicine.” 

“Alright,” the guard nodded, allowing you past. “Be careful in there, miss. He’s a dangerous man.” 

You peered through the window, before entering the room. The dark haired man lay calmly on his cot. His hands were handcuffed behind his head. 

“Was it really necessary to restrain him like that?” you frowned. 

“We can’t allow him an opportunity to escape,” the guard reasoned. 

“He just got thirty stitches in his leg,” you pointed out. “I don’t think he could walk out of here, even if he wanted to.” 

“Just go give him his pills,” the guard huffed. “And stop asking me questions.” 

“Yeah, alright,” you sighed, and entered the room. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Hi, Mr. Way,” you smiled, trying to treat him like any other patient. “It’s time for another dose of hydromorphone, okay?” 

“Call me Gerard,” the man said softly. “What’s your name, Nurse?” 

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself. You began puncturing the blister pack that contained his painkillers. 

“Is it a pill you’re giving me?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes, sir,” you nodded. “A standard eight milligram dose.” 

“I don’t exactly have a free hand to take it from you,” Gerard chuckled, glancing at the cuffs, that held his hands fast. “What are you gonna do? Feed it to me?” 

You blushed at this suggestion, taking a closer look at him. His long, dark hair framed a pale and handsome face. He looked more like a magazine model, than a convicted felon. The idea of bringing your fingers to his lips sounded….both appealing, and wrong, all at once. 

But, if his hands are incapacitated, you considered, stepping closer to his bedside, what other choice do I have?

“Come here,” Gerard chuckled, “I promise, I won’t bite you.”

“The cop at the door says you’re dangerous,” you hesitated. 

“Well, yeah,” Gerard said dryly, “I was convicted of second-degree murder.”

“M-murder?!” you gasped, jumping back. He confessed to it so casually, as if it was nothing. 

“It’s true,” Gerard said, sounding frighteningly unrepentant. “I killed a man. But, I had my reasons.”

“What reason could possibly justify taking a human life?!” you cried, horrified.

Is he some kind of sociopath?, you wondered, shuddering. Should I be scared, being alone in a room with him like this?

“....Do you really want to know?” Gerard asked, gazing up at you, with his cold, hazel eyes. 

The truth was, you’d always had a weird fascination with true crime documentaries. It intrigued you, hearing the motives, that would drive seemingly ordinary people to kill. 

“...Yes,” you decided, setting down the pills, and taking a seat, beside the bed. “Tell me.” 

“I have this little brother,” Gerard explained. “His name is Mikey. He was in his junior year of high school. Some classmate of his, decided that he looked gay.  Whatever that means. And then he decided, that he needed to beat him up, just for, I don’t know, existing too gay-ly.” 

“That’s terrible,” you frowned. You never understood, why kids bullied each other, for such stupid and prejudiced reasons. 

“They beat Mikey so bad, that they put him in the hospital,” Gerard recalled with a pained expression. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said sympathetically. You wondered if little Mikey was okay. 

“It’s okay,” Gerard shrugged. “I paid the bastard back, by putting him in a grave.” 

You gasped, at this chilling admission. 

“You don’t understand, Nurse,” Gerard said insistently. “The son of a bitch hit my brother in the face so hard, that he went blind in his right eye, for the rest of his life!” 

“That poor kid,” you frowned. 

“Well, he’s not a kid anymore,” Gerard clarified. “I got revenge against the worm who hurt my brother, in 1997. I was sentenced to fifteen years in prison….and I’ve already served seven years of that.” 

“So, you have eight more years to go?” you calculated. 

“Yeah,” Gerard said sadly. “Mikey will be thirty-two, by the time I get out.”

“What does he think about your decision to avenge him?” you asked curiously. You imagined how much you would miss your own siblings, if you were separated from them, for over a decade. 

“He visited me in lockup,” Gerard replied. “He said it brings him peace, knowing the bastard can never hurt him again. So, say what you want. But I ain’t sorry, for putting a bullet between his eyes.” 

“This hospital is the first place you’ve been, other than that prison, in such a long time,” you realized. 

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. “I ain’t sorry for what I did to get sent here, either.” 

“What did you do?” you asked, eyes wide. 

“I got a new cellmate,” Gerard explained. “His name’s Bert. He just started a five-year sentence, last week.” 

“What did he get convicted of?” you asked curiously. 

“Drug trafficking,” Gerard replied. “One of the harder ones. Prison life is gonna force him to get sober, though. By the looks, withdrawal has been a real bitch for him so far.”

You recalled the symptoms of drug withdrawal, from your medical textbook. Shaking. Vomiting. Rapid heartbeat. Seizures. It was nothing you would wish on anyone - even a dealer, who had sold the poison to others.

“I’m sorry he’s going through that,” you said empathetically. 

“Well, he almost went through something way worse,” Gerard grimaced. 

“What could be worse than that?” you wondered anxiously. 

“We were in the showers,” Gerard recalled, paling. “Some big guy, from Cell Block A, tried uh….he tried to…..touch Bert. In a way he didn’t want to be touched.”

“Oh,” you gasped. You heard about these things happening in men’s prisons - but it was still a sickening thought. 

“I clocked the sick fuck,” Gerard snarled. “Knocked him the fuck out.” 

“....Good,” you said, without thinking. Maybe you shouldn’t encourage a confessed killer, to commit more acts of violence. But, if he hadn’t done what he did, his friend would have been sexually assaulted. Preventing such a thing, was a noble motive. 

“Problem was, the guy was in a prison gang,” Gerard sighed, continuing his story. “After I bloodied him up, all over the bathroom floor, his buddies came after me. One of them had a shiv. Shanked me right in my fucking leg.”

“.....That’s why you needed all those stitches?” you realized. 

“Yeah,” Gerard replied, sinking back into his pillows. “That’s how I wound up here.” 

“Let me give you your pain medicine,” you said, standing up. His stab wound must hurt him terribly. 

“You’re not scared of me?” Gerard asked softly. “After everything I just told you I did?” 

“You’re a violent man,” you considered. “But, I don’t think you’re an evil man, Gerard.” 

“....Really?” Gerard’s eyes widened.

“Truly,” you nodded. “You attacked two men, yes. But, they were bad men. Men who hurt innocent people.” 

“I’d never hurt a nice lady like you,” Gerard whispered. 

You took the pain pill, and put it between your fingers. “Open up,” you instructed. 

Gerard, to your surprise, blushed. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I haven’t had  a woman this close to me in seven, long years, Nurse,” Gerard said shyly. “Let alone such a beautiful one.” 

It was your turn to blush. He thought you were beautiful? 

“C-come on, now,” you stammered. “Say ah.”

Gerard opened his mouth wide. You glanced down at his pale pink lips, as you leaned over him. Your hair brushed his cheek, making his whole face go red. 

You gently placed the pill on his tongue. His lips closed around your fingertips for a moment, almost sucking them. You drew back from his touch, startled. 

“What’s the matter, Nurse?” he asked, a sly look on his face, as he swallowed the tablet. 

“I -I told you,” you mumbled, looking away, “my name’s Y/N.”

“Can you do me one more favor, Y/N?” Gerard asked quietly. 

“What is it?” you asked, heart pounding. 

“....Ya think you could scratch my nose for me?” 

You burst into laughter, at his odd request. It wasn’t what you were expecting. 

“I’m serious! It really itches!” 

Overcoming your giggles, you glanced again, at the handcuffs on his wrists. The guard had, perhaps unwisely, left a key on the bedside table. 

“....I really don’t think you need to be tied up like this,” you confessed. 

“They don’t want me on the loose,” Gerard shrugged. “Told ya, I’m a killer.” 

“If I were to unlock the cuffs for you,” you asked, your voice a whisper, “do you promise to stay in your bed?” 

“I won’t try to escape, Y/N,” Gerard said seriously, staring up into your eyes. “I promise you. If I went on the run now, I’d never see my brother again. It’s not worth it to me.” 

“...Then, I’ll do it,” you decided, grabbing the key. You prayed that you were not going to regret this. 

The key turned in the lock, and the cuffs unclicked, releasing Gerard’s hands. He didn’t lunge at you, or jump up. He simply scratched his nose - exactly as he said he would. 

You breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I know you got other patients to look after, Nurse Y/N,” Gerard said, looking suddenly sleepy, as the medication started to kick in. “So...have a good night, alright?”

“Good night, Mr. Way,” you smiled, and walked out of the room. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The next day, you came to provide another dose of hydromorphone. The guard glared at you, as you approached the door. 

“What the hell were you thinking last night?” he asked. “You gave the prisoner an opportunity to escape!” 

“.....Did he escape?” you asked, your heart suddenly aching. Had he manipulated you, into feeling sorry for him, so he could go on the lamb?

“....No,” the guard shook his head. “I guess we got lucky. The prisoner is still sittin’ in there, like a good boy. Exactly where you left him.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief. Gerard had kept his promise. 

“...May I give him his medicine, Officer?” you asked, staring the guard down.

“Yeah, lady,” the cop said, with a defeated look. “You go on ahead.” 

You entered the room, shutting the door behind you. “Hi, Mr. Way,” you greeted. 

“I told you, Y/N,” your new favorite patient smiled, “the name’s Gerard.”

“Hi, Gerard,” you corrected yourself. “How are you feeling today?” 

“Not so good,” Gerard confessed. “As you can see, Officer Jackass put the cuffs back on me this morning.” 

It was true - he was, once again, shackled to the bed. 

“I guess I’ll have to feed it to you again,” you mumbled, cheeks aflame. 

“You kinda looked like you were enjoying it, the last time,” Gerard smirked. 

“N-no!” you denied, blushing harder. 

“Oh, really?” Gerard teased. “Well…..I know I sure did.” 

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” you stammered. You were a medical professional. He was a patient in your care - and a convicted murderer, to boot! You shouldn’t let him flirt with you like this. 

But, although you hated to admit…..he was right. Something about your fingers in his mouth, had been strangely attractive to you. 

“What can I say, Nurse Y/N?” Gerard shrugged. “I got nothing to lose. As soon as I’m healed up, they’re gonna take me back to the penitentiary. I won’t see, or touch, a woman again, for the rest of this decade.” 

“That must be...lonely,” you breathed. 

“I knew the price I was gonna pay, when I got Mikey his justice,” Gerard sighed. “It’s far too late, to start having regrets now. But…..if I could have just one wish….”

“What would you wish for?” you asked, your heart hammering. 

“Just one kiss,” Gerard begged. “Before they lock me back up, and throw away the key.” 

“....I’ll grant your wish,” you decided, in a whisper. You felt so hot, all of a sudden. 

“Wh-What?” Gerard stammered. 

“Sssh,” you shushed him. “Hold still, and say ah for me again.” 

You leaned down, beside his bed, and kissed him softly, on the mouth. Despite the sterile scent of disinfectant in the room, the taste of the moment, was incredibly sweet. 

He struggled against his chains, trying desperately to bring his body, closer to yours. You sat on the bed, closing the gap. 

Now practically in his lap, you kissed him harder. 

“Ahhh!” he cried. 

“....Did I hurt you?” you gasped, pulling away. “Did I sit on the leg that was injured?”

“....No,” Gerard panted. “That…..wasn’t a noise of pain.”

“....Oh,” you flushed. 

“I’d be greedy to ask for a second wish,” Gerard said seductively. “But, if I could have one….oh, pretty, please, Nurse, would you do that again?” 

You nodded, pushing him back, into the bed. “You can wish for it, as many times as you like.”

[siennahrobek]

Future Past

5 BBY

(Luke is approximately 14 years old)

Lothal was a bit of a strange place to stop, on account of being so bustling with the Empire’s presence. However, for some reason, Ben had insisted on a short stop there and lured him in with that mischievous smirk he would get sometimes and a mention of a surprise. And Luke supposed, he could use the distraction. Of anything, really.

It had been hard; so soon after Ben had forced Boil to leave them. Boil had been Luke’s friend, in a way that he had never had before. He and Ben didn’t stay on a planet long enough for Luke to actually make friends, but Boil had stayed with them for months and it was turning into routine. It became normal. Even squishing him into their little ship wasn’t too bad; Luke was just too happy about just having someone else around. Of course, Qui-Gon stopped by once in a while, but he couldn’t hold his form for very long and generally, he only came when he had something to teach. Luke had been so happy for those couple of months, having someone around to talk to and help and teach and be taught by. He loved Ben, of course, he did, with so much, but there was a difference.

And suddenly that was taken away.

And Luke had been very upset.

After Boil had been sent away, Luke didn’t talk to Ben for nearly a week and even after that, it was only necessary exchanges between them. Which led to their trip to Lothal where they barely made it past the strict incoming traffic regulations and landed in the middle of nowhere.

Meditation, Luke presumed with a frown and the roll of his eyes.

Ben took nothing with him, just gestured for Luke to follow him out into the grasslands. And, as of course, he did, and they walked in silence through the tiny civilization which he knew would be leading out into the actual, literal, middle of nowhere. At least, until Ben had spotted something that had interested in him. After telling Luke to stay where he was and the younger man returning that request with a long, irritated whine and near rebuttal, Ben had left him in the market, hidden away in an alley until he got back.

It wasn’t just hard because of Boil leaving, although that was the core of it. It wasn’t just because Luke had lost pretty much the only friend, he had made that he knew Ben would trust. But Luke had been a bit bitter towards his guardian. Things were a bit more strained than usual, and Luke was holding onto his feelings. The ones that were so upset and angry that he felt like sometimes he could just explode.

Because he finally, finally, had a friend that Ben would approve of. Sure, he was older like Ben, but it was a start, it was something. It was even a person that Ben cared about and trusted. But then he just sent him away and Luke was struggling on forgiving Ben for that.

Lost in thought and his bitterness, Luke was a bit too late to notice the being creeping up on him but realized just enough for avoid the stun coming his way. He didn’t get a good look at his opponent who tried to flip him…only for Luke to bring the being with him and flipped him as well.

It hurt. And no doubt it hurt the other guy too.

The ensuing fight was rather brutal, and Luke had a feeling if he hadn’t been shown so many hand-to-hand moves by Boil, he would have lost. Well, if the fight had gone on any longer than the few moments that it had, he probably would have lost. At least, if Luke hadn’t used the Force. But that would blow their cover.

It was sharp and ruthless with fast strikes that were almost always some kind of hit, whether or not it was the area that it was intended. And for absolute certain, Luke knew he would hurt and be so sore tomorrow. Well, if he liveduntil tomorrow. And by the way things were going with this fight, he wasn’t entirely so sure he would.

“Luke!”

“Echo!”

The two of them had stopped so abruptly that they both stumbled, nearing falling over one another as they tripped over themselves to stand up and move away, one from the other. Luke felt like he was coughing up the dust the two fighters had kicked into the air, but it was difficult to get enough air in his lungs. He was tired. Ben and another trooper, longer hair and a bandana were standing in their sight line, looking quite unimpressed and frowning, expectantly.

“Ben!”

“General Kenobi?”

Luke’s head whipped around to the side, where his opponent was, eyes wide and shocked. The man had ripped off his dark helmet to stare and Luke tried to prevent his double take. Because…. well, because he looked like Boil. Well, not exactly. He didn’t really have much in the way of hair and his skin was a bit ashen, but they looked so similar. Meaning this was a clone. Luke glanced back at Ben and the other man. Another clone.

“Echo,” Ben greeted, quiet and soft with a slight bow. His presence softened at the sight of this former soldier that he knew but he was still guarded, shielded. Luke struggled to understand this sometimes, but Ben had believed the clones had betrayed the jedi and killed all of his family and people for well over a decade. That caution wasn’t just going to go away. But he was trying, and he did his best. “It is good to see you alive and well.”

“Is it?” the clone – Echo – sputtered, obviously a bit surprised at the statement. “Because I have a hard time being glad to see…people like us, knowing what happened.” Luke knew what he was alluding to; how could he not. Everyone knew what had happened, even though there were different stories surrounding it, depending on who one heard it from.

“I know about the chips,” Ben swallowed as his eyes softened further in grief, something misty and far away, like he wasn’t quite in the present. It was for everyone involved, rather tragic. The jedi dead and the troopers brainwashed; the galaxy gone and under the tyranny of the new Galactic Empire. “We found out a few months ago. I am so sorry.”

“I feel like I should be saying that to you,” Echo muttered, shaking his head while the other clone just looked between the both of them. He wondered who he was exactly and how he knew them. “I shouldn’t be surprised you are alive. The 212thalways had rumors about you.”

“Rumors?” Ben mused, an eyebrow raising curiously.

“Yeah. Some of them thought you were unkillable.”

Ben scoffed with several different and varying emotions running through it, some Luke couldn’t quite identify with any amount of certainty. “That is rather ridiculous but, I suppose, their faith in me is… it would have been nice, if things hadn’t worked out the way they did,” Ben said. “I hear you are chasing a bounty. On Luke and myself.”

Echo blinked and shot a glance at Luke before turning back to Ben. “Uh… yes sir. Although, in our defense, we didn’t know it was you.”

“No worries,” Ben shrugged and tucked his hands into the large sleeves of the overcoat of his robe. “And I think you can drop the sir. I am no longer your superior officer, much less a general.”

Echo just smirked faintly. “Of course, sir.”

“Hunter and I just wanted to make sure you and Luke didn’t kill each other,” Ben responded, his tone filling with a form of amusement. “Would you mind keeping him company or entertained while we speak?”

The trooper just nodded. As the two of them walked off to have their talk with the assurance that the clone and boy did not, in fact, kill one another or would for that matter, Echo turned back towards Luke and tried to smile, offering his good hand for Luke to shake. He did, of course. It was only polite. “Sorry about, ya know, hitting you in the face, kid.”

“You can call me Luke,” the younger boy replied but he forced himself to look at him. It was a bit difficult with the similar facial structure of his friend. They looked virtually nothing alike aside from that. Boil had more hair and a bit of a scowl, and his presence was oh so vastly different. Neither were bad or better, but it just kind of made Luke miss Boil. “I’m sorry for nearly busting your vambrace,” he added, gesturing towards the slightly sparking tech inside. Echo just winced but then shrugged and pulled up his other arm which…had a machine attached to it.

“I’ve got it,” he added as he started to poke at it. “Those moves looked familiar. Considering General Kenobi knew about the chips, I guess it is safe to say that you two came in contact with some troopers.”

Luke nodded.

“Anyone I might know?”

“I don’t know in particular if you knew them,” Luke replied as the two of them walked through the little marketplace, slow and steady. Echo continued to work a bit on his partially broken vambrace, and Luke kept his gaze on the varying items that were out for sale in the market. “Commander Cody and Sergeant Boil we found on Vader’s ship.”

The clone paused and stared at him, just kicking up as he stopped in his tracks. Luke paused enough to glance at him, a bit startled. “That…is a lot to unpack. I’m going to skip over the whole Lord Vader thing for now. Cody is alive?”

Luke hesitated and looked away. “No. He’s not.”

Echo sagged in disappointment, but they continued to walk. “Oh…so you…you learned some stuff from the other guy, Boil.”

“He was a part of the 212th, Ben’s immediate battalion,” Luke explained. He didn’t know if Echo knew in particular but he just thought it would be best to clarify. “He was with us for several months before Ben sent him away. He taught me some things and told me a ton of stories. About Ben and the 212th, about Cody, about him and his brother Waxer and all the others.”

“You like stories?”

Luke tried not to look sheepish when he nodded in affirmation.

Echo just grinned. “I have plenty of stories. And trust me, they are some of the most insane and fantastical stories you will hear. My brother, Fives, and I were amidst all sorts of action alongside our general. They called him the Hero with No Fear and he was…something else. His name was Anakin Skywalker.”

*

Luke barely got to hear a fraction of what Echo had to offer and it just made him even more upset when Ben told him they had to go their separate ways. He wanted more. He needed more. Echo was fun and his stories great and they were about his father! Oh, he wanted to know more!

But Ben was stern, and Hunter was anxious to get back to the rest of their party. Luke somehow convinced them to give the two jedi a ride to their destination, which Ben very reluctantly finally caved to. Luke had a few more minutes and he would use it to the best of his ability. Their destination, as Ben pointed out, was a fairly natural looking structure for Lothal’s environment and the two clones had left near immediately after dropping them off. Luke’s heart just felt heavy.

Ben explained that it was a Jedi Temple and that they would both have to use the force to make the entrance known. It took them a fair amount of time, possibly due to their conflicting feelings on the past events and Luke’s bitterness. But, eventually, it happened and the Temple unraveled to reveal its door way, coming up from the ground.

Ben didn’t say a word.

They walked in. It was musty and disgusting but there was a brief and faint scent of freshness, possibly from someone opening the Temple recently. At least before the last two hundred years. Luke voiced this out loud.

“I would believe so,” Ben hummed as he looked around, running a hand along one of the pillars with a kind of sad reverence. “This is a Jedi Temple and I do believe we will find some guidance here.”

“Guidance for what?”

“Whoever knows,” Ben replied, letting the torches light up in small flickers of flames that lit their way. There were a few skeletons around the floor near the columns. Neither of them tried to look at them, rather avoided them and kept walking deeper. “The Force may use the Temple for varying lessons for any one of us and it is a good place to be to learn something. I dare say you could use some guidance that is not from me.”

Luke just glanced away and swallowed.

It hadn’t been easy between the two of them, that was for sure.

“Are we…splitting up?”

“Your journey is your own,” Ben replied, calm and kind, although there was something underneath that Luke couldn’t identify. “Just as mine will be mine. Why don’t you start that way? It smells less musty.”

Luke glanced to where he gestured. “Okay,” he replied and looked back to Ben, but he had already disappeared. Even for someone at his age with as much grey hairs as he had, he was surprisingly quick and sneaky. “Okay,” he repeated to himself with a sharp exhale. He turned towards the doorway and took one of the torches before heading in.

He didn’t know how long he walked or how he lost his torch. For a while, he was in the dark. Everything was so silent it was eerie and rather disturbing, making Luke exceptionally uncomfortable.

And then. And then things changed.

And that change was so sudden and so real and the reason he was here seemed to mush in his mind. He didn’t exactly remember where he was or what exactly he was supposed to be doing. But he stopped when he felt it. Luke stepped into a gorgeous garden, grass tickling at his legs, soft and lush with the crashing of waterfalls bubbling over his ears. It was a sound he would never get bored of; ever since the first time he had seen one. There were walkways winding around the land, with patches of flowers and a few trees, full bearing of fruit and leaves, dotting the grounds. It was so beautiful.

He wanted to know off his boots and just…relish in the feeling.

It was warm here. Not the kind of heat that was oppressive and ongoing and just made one want to lie down in their room and not move, ever. But the kind that would come and go just enough for comfort, something of joy and kindness. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, taking in those good feelings and the brisk freshness of the air.

There was a joyful shout, and he opened his eyes. Ther were children running over a hill chasing one another and reaching out with huge grins on their faces and sparkling eyes full of laughter and playfulness. Luke blinked.

And then again.

There were…people here?

He paused and stared in wonderment. Maybe…maybe they were jedi. They were in a Temple. Right? That was where he was. Right, right, he and Ben had went into a Jedi Temple. Made sense, perhaps, that there would be remnants of jedi here…right?

Maybe there were survivors.

Survivors, Luke thought numbly. It sounded too good to be true. He had to find Ben. He had to tell him what he had discovered.

“Luke!” a voice called, cheerfully. He spun around and stared at the being, blankly as a he strode up; a Kel Dor if he wasn’t mistaken, walked to him, hands tucked into his sleeves, similar to the way Ben did when he was wearing a large cloak. “Initiate Luke,” he corrected with a chuckle and although his face was incapable of smiling with the mask that he wore, Luke was pretty sure he was grinning on the inside.

“Initiate?” Luke echoed, questioningly.

“Yes,” the being chuckled again and gestured to him up and down. “The step before becoming a padawan, of course.” Luke looked down at the light-colored tunics he was in. These…were not his clothes.

“I can be a padawan?” he murmured.

“Of course!” the Kel Dor teased but he sounded warm and kind, although a bit surprised on Luke’s questioning about his place here. “You have done very well in your classes. You are well on your way to becoming a great jedi.”

“There are no more jedi…besides Ben,” Luke replied numbly as his mind sparked. Of course, Ben. That was what he was supposed to do. He needed to find Ben, tell him about this, about these…jedi he had discovered. At least, Luke thought they were jedi.

“Nonsense, Initiate,” the Kel Dor said, with a light shake of his head, amusement filling his voice. He waved around the garden, gesturing to other beings that had now entered and were mingling around. There were so many, of different ages and appearances and species. Most were speaking to one another, in groups of two to several. “There are many,” he assured as he made Luke look. “And you must only choose.”

“Choose?” he sounded too much like an echo.

“A master.”

Sure enough, some of those around were speaking with children that were dressed like Luke. Some were hugging, being led away by the respective masters with their hand or appendage in the other’s. They were choosing and being chosen, Luke realized. Initiates being chosen as padawans. Initiates choosing their masters.

“I can choose?”

“Well,” the being pointed out as he put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. He nearly startled; only Ben and Boil had generally touched him. The Kel Dor didn’t seem to notice. “It is a mutual thing. However, I was hoping to ask you.”

“Ask me?”

“To be my padawan,” the master suggested and turned to face him straight on. “You are kind, driven and compassionate. You would do well under my tutelage. What do you say, Initiate? Would you like to be my padawan?”

Luke stared for an embarrassingly long time because that just…it seemed impossible. He had always wanted to be a jedi; especially a padawan, for as long as he knew what a padawan was. Ben never technically denied him outright or said no. Rather, he would just tell him how dangerous that term was, and they had better not speak of it again. Luke didn’t always listen. “I…I’m sorry, sir – master – but I don’t think so. I need to find my guardian.”

“Unfortunate,” the master hummed, shaking his head and he sounded genuinely disappointed. Luke hated doing that to him but something about this just didn’t seem right. Something else at play. “Good luck, I suppose then. I hope you find what you are looking for.”

“I’m looking for Ben,” Luke replied, glancing around. When he turned back, the Kel Dor was gone. It was like he had disappeared right out of the thin air. After what Luke had seen Ben do, he couldn’t be terrible surprised if the jedi had been capable of that, but he thought it was rather unlikely. “This is rather strange.”

“Quite not,” someone else said. Another master was behind him again and Luke turned around towards him. He was older, with long greying hair.

“Master…?” he questioned.

He frowned. “Master Drallig. Better work on that memory, initiate. A master will not want to train a child who cannot even remember their name.”

“Yes master,” he replied.

“You are up next.”

“Up?”

“The Exhibition match,” Master Drallig frowned deeper. “Come on, initiate! Get your head in the game! Prospective masters are watching.”

“Of course. Of course,” Luke nodded and jogged off to where the master gestured. Even though he had no idea where this was, what was happening or what exactly he was supposed to be doing, his body seemed to know, and he just moved with it. He spent hours in the exhibition, sparring and fighting against other students, moving on to next rounds as he won bouts.

It was like he had been training and readying himself for this for his entire life. And it was an amazing feeling.

Luke didn’t know if he won the exhibition match or, rather, if anyone had or could. He just remembered doing several fights and moving on until he found himself back in the depths of the garden again, away from the tournament itself and amidst other masters. He was having an increasingly difficult time reminding himself that this wasn’t real and his goal here.

All he knew was that this was his chance to become a padawan.

He just had to find someone that felt right.

So, Luke went through the garden, every so often someone asking him to be their padawan but none of them felt quite right. Or perhaps they felt too right to be true. It hardly mattered; something niggled in the back of his mind, reminding him he had a goal and a purpose. He just kept forgetting what that was exactly. He was getting desperate. Nothing felt quite right. But he was running out of time and options. It was getting harder to say no. By the time Qui-Gon Jinn came around with his request, there were barely any masters left. He was so kind and gentle and a familiar face. Luke wanted to wrap himself in the cloak like he did with…

Ben!

Luke stuttered and took off, leaving Master Jinn without an answer. Rude, perhaps, but Luke was running out of time. He had to find Ben. Because Ben. The light that appeared before him was blinding and devastating but Luke knew. He knew. It was his father.

“Hey kiddo.”

Luke swallowed. This…this was something he had always wanted. To meet his father. It seemed like an impossible dream. Because it was. Impossible.

His father began to speak and oh! Was Luke so starstruck! It was his father! The famous jedi! The hero with no fear! Ben’s friend, his brother…

Luke stopped.

Ben.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out. “I can’t talk. I have to find Ben.”

His father stared at him with a serious frown, his face perfect and smooth, with the locks of his hair framing his face that made Luke too easily calm. He looked right; perfect. Like Luke had always imagined his father to be. There was something missing about his face, but Luke couldn’t quite put his finger on what. He supposed, at this point, it hardly mattered. “Isn’t this what you always wanted? Your greatest dream? To meet me? To talk to me?”

“I have to find Ben before it’s too late,” Luke tried to reason, and he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from his father to look around for his guardian.

“So, he’s more important than me? I am your father!”

“And I want to be a jedi. Like you. Like Ben.”

“I can teach you, I can teach you much better than that insecure relic of an age long gone,” his father insisted, determined and strong. Luke’s brows just scrunched together with a deepening frown because that didn’t quite sound right. His father loved Ben, they were friends, brothers. He couldn’t imagine him saying something rather rude and disrespectful like this about him. “I am your father.”

“I know,” Luke replied with a hard swallow. So much was running through his head. It was so hard to keep track. “But this…I need to do this. I want to be a jedi and that means sacrifice. Letting go.”

His father reeled back and scowled, his eyes blazing with heat and color and lines scratching into the sides of his face, barely noticeable but it was almost all Luke could see. “You would trade this – everything you ever wanted – me, the jedi, this world, for him?”

“This isn’t real,” Luke responded, sadly as he forced himself to stare at his father, into his eyes. Direct and resolute. “And Ben…even if he wasn’t destined to be my jedi master, I would choose him every time,” he backed away, one foot after another. It had started out slow, but he knew he didn’t have a lot of time. “I will still dream of truly meeting you,” he said and then began to run. It was all he could do to keep himself from staying, from staying and losing everything else but the feeling of dreams. All he could feel was the heat burning into his back as he ran off. And he just kept running. His feet began to ache, and he tripped over them in embarrassing frequency.

“Ben!”

Nothing.

“BEN!”

Still nothing. There was no one in sight of the garden anymore.

“Ben! Please!” he begged, finally tripping to a halt. He nearly fell, exhausted and out of breath as he tried to catch up. He didn’t have much more time; it was running out. “Please. Please. I just…I just want to be a jedi.” His chest started to heave, and tears threatened to overtake his vision. “Please.”

There was a brief silence.

“Well, if a jedi is all you wanted to be, there were plenty of masters willing to teach you. I have no doubt you had plenty of offers.”

Luke scrambled to turn because that voice; oh he knew that voice. “Ben!” he cried, happily, tears coming out in relief as he caught sight of his guardian. He looked a bit younger, less weary. The bags under his eyes were less noticeable and the only real wrinkles around his face were that in the corners of his eyes from smiling.

“Hello, Beacon.”

“I want to be a jedi,” he promised as he got closer to him. “I hope you never question my commitment.”

Ben hummed. “You have made your desire to become a jedi rather clear. You had plenty of chance. Master Koon, Master Jinn, even your father.”

“You saw that?”

He smiled but shrugged. “You said no to all of them. Why?”

“Because of you.”

“I’m holding you back?” he asked, incredulously. He looked torn and almost offended, almost horrified at the prospect. It was laughable to Luke but apparently Ben had taken that very seriously. Luke wondered what that meant; why he would react in such a way.

Luke choked out a laugh and shook his head, rather vehemently. “No Ben. Never. I didn’t want anyone else. And I know it’s important. You are always my choice. You were always my choice.”

Present Past

Luke

Iyah, one of the slaves that Siri and Luke had freed from the little temporary quarters that the troopers had been held in had a hiding place for them until the group figured out what to do next. Siri still had her disguise of a slave trader and with all the traffic and bustle of the up-and-coming auction, it was easy to move and blend in with the crowds when Luke and Siri’s smoke bombs erupted upon Luke’s presence being found missing. Iyah’s former master had died as of recently and she was in the auction house because her master’s family was going to sell her. It would be some time before the rest of the family went through all of his things and house, so they had a fairly secure hiding place until then. Luke didn’t think that they would be at the house that long.

The smoke from their little distraction is noticeable, even to those out in the streets and far from the palace but they were practically harmless. Just enough to mask their presence and allow them to escape. Wrapping the troopers in cloaks, they moved through the curious crowds that watched as the smoke puffed from the palace windows and doors.

The house that Iyah brings them to is out of the way and not something that someone would come to immediately, as it is just a bit off the streets. The other slaves mostly huddled on their own, leaving the jedi and troopers to their own devices but Iyah just eyes Luke up, warily and announces her intention to make food for everyone as she comes back to bring them a first aid kit; probably one that she knew her master had on hand. Most beings had something of the sort.

“You don’t have to do that, ma’am,” Captain Rex tried to assure her quickly, in some attempt to convince her that she had nothing to fear from them; that she had no obligation to feed any of them.

Luke met her eyes for a moment, and she frowned at the trooper, but she doesn’t say anything. She just turned and nearly stormed back to the kitchen.

Fives was itching to speak, to ask for answers. Luke didn’t have to be force sensitive to know how eager and pressed he was for such things. He didn’t want to explain everything at the moment; he hurt, and he was tired, but he knew it was inevitable. Eventually, Fives could not quite continue to keep it all in. It hadn’t been long. Most of them were still trying to just catch their breath.

“I think it is about time you tell us what is going on,” Fives started, his jaw clenching. If nothing else, Luke had to admire his persistence and pursuit for answers and justice.

Luke sighed and tried to sit up further. They were all on the floor, mostly collapsed over themselves in their exhaustion but Waxer helped him and let him lean against his solid shoulder. “I can tell him about some things, if you want,” he suggested, gently.

The boy knew the trooper was being genuine. Boil had told Luke so much about Waxer in the months that he had with him, and he didn’t seem to downplay how kind and good Waxer was. Luke hoped he could keep him alive, if only for Boil’s sake but he couldn’t help but value him above and beyond. He hadn’t been around for long but trusting Waxer felt near like second nature.

“I knew you were keeping secrets,” Fives frowned at the Lieutenant, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. Waxer, took it in stride, barely shrugging and projecting a show of simple acceptance. Fives kept going with a stream of questions and a demand for answers. “What do you know? What is going on? Does this have anything to do with what happened with Krell? Or why we were put under him and not ourGeneral. Or how about the fact that General Kenobi came back to the Resolute on a stretcher?”

“One at a time, Fives,” Rex interrupted, flatly with a tired sigh. It perhaps, wasn’t exactly the right thing to say at the moment.

“And you, you have been keeping secrets too,” Fives shot at him, his frowning deepening. He was so frustrated and scared; Luke could feel it. He couldn’t entirely blame the trooper; the situation was intense and strange. Sometimes with one’s most intense emotions, in the moment, they could not be shielded. It was easier for a jedi because they trained for that sort of thing, but most other beings didn’t even know the existence of shields; not really. “You know it as well but decided, hey, let’s not tell your troops. Maybe some of them would still be alive if you had.”

Rex’s jaw clenched and Luke lurched forward, ready to defend. It wasn’t his fault and Luke hardly thought it mattered knowing what he knew would have changed anything. Luke hadn’t known specifically Krell was a traitor or any specifics on the Umbara campaign but that didn’t make the losses they encountered hurt any less.

“Enough,” Master Tachi nearly barked. She was still standing for a moment and towered over the rest of them, coming back from getting some pillows and blankets from the others. They weren’t great, probably not even that comfortable, but it would do. “This is getting none of us anywhere. I am certain they all have good explanations for what information they have and the lack of flow of it.” At the very least, she seemed to believe it.

Luke shook his head, mostly to himself, and tried to organize his thoughts and what exactly he would say. He didn’t want to tell the 501st, only because of how close they were with his father and due to Palpatine being around his father all the time… secrecy was crucial. “Look, okay,” he started, trying to catch up with himself. It was not particularly easy. He didn’t even know if they would believe him. Others had taken it fairly well; the 212th’s faith in Ben and Cody’s reasoning was helpful, as well as Master Vos’s abilities. But most of these guys were from the 501st; Luke didn’t know if they had that type of faith or belief. “This is…the galaxy depends on total, complete and absolute secrecy. Absolute. You cannot tell anyone,” he stressed as best he could.

“Why not?” Jesse asked, genuinely curious.

“We have to be very careful on the flow of this because there are people we cannot trust and I don’t know all of them,” Luke started to explain, his voice nearly rocky as he spoke. He didn’t particularly want to because well, it was complicated and in all honesty, he had no idea what exactly all he would be revealing to these people. “I don’t know all the people I cannot trust in this time,” he tried to clarify with a bit of a wince. “Some of the 212th knows a bit of what I explained, but for the most part, only Master Vos, Commander Cody and maybe Ben…er Master Kenobi knows most of it.”

Rex tensed up a little, his eyes turning a bit sharper as he stared at Luke at the mention of his closest brother. Luke tried to ignore the shielded feelings Rex was hiding. They weren’t exactly the most positive ones and Luke’s heightened ability with the force let him see, even through some of the thickest of shields. It wasn’t something he particularly liked but sometimes it seemed too apparent for him to ignore. And in Rex’s case, he found out that one of his closest brother was keeping secrets from him. “Cody knows all of what you know?”

“I explained some things to him,” Luke confessed, not quite meeting Rex’s eyes. He barely got to know Cody at all in the future; as they were only with one another for an hour or two, but he had heard plenty from both Ben and Boil. “Please don’t get mad at him. It’s my family. I’m sorry. I asked him not to tell you.”

“Why?” Rex replied steadily, keeping his voice completely void of too many feelings that Luke could feel. “You seemed like you trusted me.”

“I do,” Luke insisted quickly and then, embarrassingly enough, his mouth ran off with him. “You aren’t the breach.”

“The breach?” Rex’s brows creased as he stared at the boy. “Who is?”

“If you act strange, Skywalker will know…” Luke drifted off, uneasily as his hands shuffled in his lap his gaze turning down. Speaking of his father was strange, especially when he was very strict on not letting anyone know what Anakin was too him. He still had to wrap his own head around all of this; he didn’t need everyone else’s opinions and thoughts on the matter yet.

“No way. NotGeneral Skywalker,” Fives insisted, nearly moving to stand up to make his point. Both Jesse and Tup pulled him down to keep him sitting but Fives was absolute. “He is loyal to the Republic; whatever happened… it is not his fault.”

Luke ignored him, fiddling with his hands. It wasn’t completely complicated he thought, at least, the line of who should and should not know the future, but it was complicated for Luke. Being in the era with his father, when he is so young and not completely evil and trying to kill him and such, it was strange. It would only be stranger when Ben came to get him, and he had to explain why he wasn’t geekingout over the fact he was getting to meet the man. “Look, a lot happened and a lot more that I don’t know. And then the Chancellor will get wind of things,” he replied, slowly, unsure how this would end up going. It was certainly an intense accusation and not one he was completely sure how others would react to. “He is not someone we can trust.”

There was a brief moment of absolute silence.

And then…

“You can’t be serious?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“This is absolutely ridiculous!”

“He’s the leaderof the Republic.”

“Why don’t you want him to know?”

“How do you know about this?”

“What happened?”

“What did he do?”

“The Chancellor…how bad is it?” Siri asked, her voice rising above the others; something stern but calm and solid. Luke wasn’t entirely sure if it was actually louder or just something he could hear better over the others. She looked over at him, believing and serious. It was hard to wrap his head around. She just…believed him. She didn’t even know who he was. He didn’t know how she had that kind of faith in him or why she did, but he was incredibly grateful.

“The worst you can imagine,” he choked out.

Siri paused and took a seat near him with a few moments of silence to mull this over. Everyone let her have the moment, trying not to stare as she took what time she was given to think about things and come to her own conclusion. “The Sith master,” she guessed, her jaw clenching as she said it and glanced up at him. He nodded. “How do you know this?”

He hesitated and glanced at Waxer, who nodded encouragingly, and then Rex who just stared, ready and knowing. Luke turned back to Siri, eyes glazing over the others while he could vaguely feel Waxer’s presence near him. “Well…” he started, shifting, still uneasy. He sighed and then took another breath, readying himself for actually saying it again and the fallout of what he was about to reveal. “I guess the simplest way to say it is that I am from the future.”

“Now I know you’re kidding,” Fives shook his head as an only partially amused smile stretched on his face, but he turned serious and partially irritated as he continued with a scoff. “That is your big secret? Some sort of sick prank? What was this? Some terrible plan convoluted to try and get Dooku’s attention or something? I have no idea what your plan or goal was but guess what? It didn’t work.”

“He’s not lying,” Waxer insisted, leaning towards Luke and forward towards Fives at the same time, protective and relentless. He calmed himself but continued, just as strong and solid and ready. “Originally,” he glanced over at the boy. “Luke was born a little over a year from now, right when the war ends.”

“We have a year left?” Checkerboard whined.

“Who wins?”

“The Sith win,” Luke pushed out because it was the truth. Everyone else had been losers in this war because even though the jedi and troopers did everything they could to protect people, it was still a trap. Mostly for the jedi of course, but for this, in this, it turned out just as horrible for the troopers as well. “No one really wins but him. Trust me. The galaxy after the war is so much worse.”

“The Jedi….” Waxer sighed and Luke took his hand, squeezing it, gentle and assuring. Luke hadn’t been around at the time; he hadn’t been a jedi. But Waxer, even though he was technically around, he had taken it even worse than some of the others. Even the prospect of this happening, to them, to anyone, was horrifying. But it was something that it appeared he needed to get through. “The Jedi are killed, virtually all of them. And we do it. There are…some kind of chips in our brains that make us practically droids and we kill all of them.”

The silence was palpable.

No one could even completely imagine the implications of what he was saying.

“It’s gotta come out,” Rex said suddenly, shuddering out of his stupor. Fives reached out for him, but Rex jerked out of the way, and he stood up, as if that would make some kind of difference. “I work closely with Commander Tano! She’s fifteen!”

“We have to wait until we get back to the ship,” Waxer answered instead, looking up kindly and understanding. “We can’t do it now.”

“I need it out,” Rex muttered.

“Can’t you just use your jedi magic to get it out?” Checkerboard asked.

“I…” Luke shifted. “No. I can’t. I have the power but not the precision. Me and Ben, we had to do it together when we didn’t have medical equipment. I did it by accident with Boil.”

“How did you do it with him?”

“I uh…kind of slammed him into a wall,” Luke replied with a sheepish look.

“If you and General Kenobi were able to do that, can’t you and General Tachi do the same thing?”

Luke winced. “No. Not that she isn’t capable, but we don’t know each other, not like that. It’s hard to explain.”

“General Kenobi will be here quickly,” Waxer assured. “And when he does, we can get out of here and you can get the chip out.” Afterwards, Luke got himself around to talking a bit more on what was going on, although not giving quite enough as he did in the first time around with those in the 212th that Commander Cody had brought with him. The troopers popped in with questions that Luke tried to answer the best he could, but Master Tachi stayed quiet, waiting and listening quietly.

“He lived through it,” Siri says, near inaudibly, shaking her head. The troopers were talking amongst one another, although he wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about; he just stared at the master. This was kind of amazing, he thought, getting to meet so many people that he had never thought he would be able to. His father, Master Vos, Master freaking Siri Tachi. “The genocide and devastation of the jedi; our people. Of course he did. As if he hadn’t gone through enough.”

Their gazes met and he tried to shoot her a small smile.

The door opened and Iyah brought them a few trays of food. Luke recognized the meal; he had seen it once in a while when Aunt Beru helped out fleeing or freed slaves back on Tatooine when he was a child. He accepted it gratefully with a quiet thank you in another tongue and they ate for a moment in quiet and peace, although the knowledge about the chips were still hanging over their heads. Every time someone tried to say something, they were shut down within moments.

By the time they were done with the meal, Master Tachi politely excused herself and Luke as well, to his surprise and pulled him out of the room. It was a flimsy excuse that Luke thought sounded rather ridiculous, but the troopers seemed to buy. Maybe this was a jedi thing. He hoped he would get to learn. She took the first aid kit with her and sat him down at a table away from the others.

“Come on, take off the armor,” she said.

Luke blinked but did what he was told.

“Dooku gave you some nice robes,” she murmured but barely waited a second for an answer. “Take them off please. I know you have a wound underneath there. You want to tell me how you got it?”

Luke continued to do as he was told and tried to wrangle himself out of the dark robes, after he carefully set aside the armor pieces in a pile nearby. “A lightsaber. He wanted to watch me fight Krell again.”

Her eyebrows creased. “Krell? As in Pong Krell?”

“He’s a traitor,” Luke muttered.

“Why were you with him?”

“We fought on Umbara. I…we almost won,” Luke replied, as she started to clean and disinfect the area around the wound. It hurt to move, most of the time, and he hated looking at it. Vaguely, he wondered if it would scar. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He explained how Krell had set up the troops during the campaign and how Luke had just barely stopped it in time, although not early enough it seemed.

“You were alone?” she noted with a frown.

“Ask. I know you want to,” Luke just smiled, faintly.

“You know who I was,” she continued, barely sparing him a glance.

“Yes. Ben…uhm… Obi-Wan talked about you,” he nearly ducked with the embarrassment. No one knew him as Ben around here, no one but him. He would have to get used to calling him by his given name. Or, if he was really lucky, perhaps Master Kenobi. Or something of the sort. Long had Luke wanted to be a padawan – Ben’s padawan – but things were doing so fast and so far, he tried not to cling to that type of hope.

“You can call him Ben,” Siri shrugged, lightly as she smiled gently at him. “I understand who you refer to.”

The conversation wasn’t exactly light at all times, but it bounced around a lot. Neither of them had a particular direction they were going through, although, of course, it would mostly be about Obi-wan. He was really the only thing they both had in common. What Luke knew about her wasn’t a whole ton as a person, as Ben tended to tell him the best and most amazing things about the people he loved, but Luke was not against getting to know her now, while he still could. He had no idea how long he would be able to stay in the past; if this was his present now or if he would have to return to his own. “He carried around your warming crystal every day,” Luke said instead, trying to catch Siri’s eyes. He did and she looked down at her necklace, a thin rope that wrapped around a near pulsing and slightly luminescent crystal.

She looked back up at him and stopped for a moment to stare.

Luke didn’t know what it meant but he knew what to say. “He loves you.”

Ben was full of love. It was something that Luke had known for a long time. How different it must be, as Ben in this time and place had so many people to love that were still alive. The entirety of the Jedi Order, the troops he had befriended, his other friends across the galaxy, those he had loved in a slightly different way… it was no longer the kind nostalgia and memory type of love that Luke knew.

These people were alive now; at the very least, some of them. This would change so much. And he couldn’t wait to feel that type of love in Ben for this time. He was kind, of course, even when they were on the run. Luke could feel it when they met people, especially those Luke knew. Any troopers they came across, Cody and Boil and Bail Organa. And Master Vos; oh, Luke had remembered how happy Obi-Wan had felt; the love he had projected. Luke rarely questioned Ben’s love: he tried to show it in many ways that may have not always been the most apparent.

“I’ve known that for a very long time,” Siri replied, her voice quiet and kind. She hesitated and smiled to herself, as if remembering something amusing but important. “He loves so many, so much. It often brings him so much pain.”

No matter what Obi-Wan lost, he still kept being himself, in the light, was still giving out his kindness. “He told me about you,” Luke confessed, his chest warming. He never really got to talk about this, as Ben was almost always the only person he could talk to. It just wasn’t the same.

“What did he say?” She couldn’t help her curiosity, looking up at him with an amused but cautious glance, her lips curling up just enough.

He matched her expression. “I can’t imagine you being unable to guess.”

She grinned, her smile widening into something more mischievous. “Indulge me.”

“He knew you well, the longest I suppose. At least, it seemed like it, out of the people he loved in that way,” he explained, his smile softening as he thought back to the things he had learned from Ben over the years and what he could pull out of the older jedi. There was times Ben was easier to get answers from and other times Luke had to beg for something; anything. He didn’t like to guilt trip, but it was easy sometimes, there was very little else to do when they were in hyperspace, stuck in the tiny little space that was their ship for so many years. “You knew him, well, perhaps better than most, I think. He seemed to think so. He’s sad a lot of things. How talented you were with a lightsaber, strong willed and independent; determined and so focused. He said you were beautiful and had short blonde hair and liked jumpsuits. And you know, the obvious, that you were amazing.”

Siri choked down a laugh.

Luke didn’t give her enough time to answer and continued, glancing down at his hands and stripped his gloves from them. “I asked him about those he had fell in love with after I asked about my mother,” he explained quietly. “I don’t think it was easy for him to talk about that, considering his past, but I was young. I didn’t understand and I…I wanted to know.”

“Who is your mother?”

He shifted around, suddenly uneasy. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Master Tachi because of course he did. Even if he didn’t trust her just from what Ben had told him and such, she had helped him, had gotten him out of Dooku’s clutches and helped him rescue the troopers. But this was a whole different level and honestly, Luke had never had to deal with this before. His parents, they were alive, and he had to deal with that, eventually. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s someone Obi-Wan knew,” she mused, unfazed by his inability to give a straight answer. “Rather well, if he had such answers for you. If he could describe her and tell you about her in a way that would make you ask.”

“Master Tachi,” Luke warned, swallowing heavily.

“Senator Padme Amidala.”

Oh wow, she was good.

“How did you know?”

“I am rather observant,” she shrugged. “Comes with the job, I suppose. One has to be in my line of work. I’ve met her a couple of times. Obi-Wan has talked about her too, as he often is around her and working with her. At least, more than some others. Between those things and when you saw collars on the clones…” she drifted off, pointedly. He swallowed nervously, glancing down.

“Your initial anger was Skywalker. Something almost personal and hot; I could feel it through the Force; it burned through my shields, even though we do not have a bond. It was easy to know, and I know it well, as I have trained around Skywalker plenty of times before. The cold fury, however, was Obi-Wan. You didn’t scream and hit something; you weren’t exactly calm, but you weren’t crazy either; just furious. It is something I have seen him do to hide his anger when he was older and it is very cold. But how you handled it? With the righteous fury and reckless abandon, with making a snap choice with little plan? To free the slaves, you could and get them out of there? I’ve seen that kind of thing before when I have been in Senate meetings or hearing about them even. I’ve seen it before. That is all Padme Amidala.”

Luke looked up to stare at her in some kind of awe because he had barely told her anything about his parents. He had barely told anyone anything about his parents. Cody knew simply from knowing Obi-Wan and remembering a holo he had shown. Master Vos knew it from Luke’s own memories. But Siri, she simply deduced. Ben wasn’t kidding when he said she was amazing. It made the boy wonder about the others Ben had known as amazing and how great they were in their respective talents. “I…you are as good as Ben says,” he confessed.

“That’s nothing,” she shrugged, and Luke had to believe it. Or, at the very least, Siri herself believed it wasn’t that impressive. Luke couldn’t quite tell if it was confidence or ego or simple honesty; he didn’t know her or anyone else for that matter, like that. “Obi-Wan and I…our padawans were around the same age,” she explained, and brought back up bacta patches to put on his wound to help it heal up quicker and cleaner. “We did missions together. Trained together. I’ve known Skywalker as a teenager. You have his sandy blonde hair and unstoppable drive.”

He really hoped that was a good thing. He had only ever really had Ben’s perspective and thoughts on his father which were a bit skewed. It wasn’t that they were wrong, but Luke knew for certain that he didn’t tell him whole truths, not nearly as much about the faults. It had taken Luke quite some time to understand exactly why. The fact of the matter was Ben had wanted Luke to love his father, to know him as his best self rather than the faults and monster that he eventually became. It had been hard to swallow for some time and Luke still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it; it was something he continuously had to work through and was. “Wow…you really figured that out quick.”

“With your whole-time travel thing,” she leaned back a bit to get a better look at his wound and brought out the bandages to keep the bacta on, as well as clean alongside the wound itself. “And Obi-Wan knowing your parents so well to tell you about them….I was just open to any possibility. That is hardly the craziest option.”

“I’m not my father.”

She glanced at him, certainly a form of understanding in her gaze. He wondered what that meant. How she could understand such a thing, from which he was feeling. It was something he had to tell himself since he had learned what his father had become. Before that, he wanted nothing more to be like his father. Ben had told Luke some of the most fantastical things about Anakin Skywalker and how much Luke would have been loved by him. How much he was loved. Ben didn’t generally make comparisons between them like that; it was rather a seldom occurrence. But after learning Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader, the beast that was constantly chasing and trying to kill them; it had taken Luke a length of time to come to terms with several different things that were connected to that. Whether or not Anakin Skywalker was evil or not, Luke wasn’t him. He shouldn’t be him. Luke should be Luke.

He was still trying to figure out who that was.

“Of course not,” Master Tachi assured readily. “You are Luke.”

“No, I mean…” he sighed. She was right, of course, but that wasn’t quite the point he was trying to make. But, as the moment passed, she seemed to understand still.

“I understand,” Siri nodded. “You are not Anakin Skywalker and similarities or comparisons between the two of you doesn’t mean you do or say the same things. Blood is not everything.”

He nodded and glanced away as she got up to start wrapping around his shoulder and torso, weaving between his appendage to get the best available lock for the bandages with the best range of motion. For some reason, the conversation skipped over again. He didn’t really want to talk about his father; he knew that would certainly be coming in the future. “I hope he came back with me.”

“A coma was mentioned,” she hummed but he could feel and hear the under currents of concern shifting through her voice.

“Yeah. He was in some kind of unexplainable coma when I…. left,” he said carefully. If she noticed his hesitation, she did not seem to be inclined to mention it or point it out. “I’m pretty sure he is awake now. I just don’t know if he came back with me.”

“He won’t abandon you.”

Oh, she sounded so sure.

“Perhaps,” he choked out instead.

“I will not either,” she nudged him, his good shoulder, from the back. He caught a glimpse of a ready and determined smile. “Would you like a partner?”

He chuckled, his chest softening as the conversation turned a little gentler. He quite enjoyed and appreciated the change of pace. “I think Waxer might get offended,” he pointed out. It was a joke, because of course it was. He didn’t know how Waxer felt, not exactly. But he did seem rather inclined to stay by Luke’s side and that was also something he could appreciate. He had plenty of experience with other clones, but it had always been so short, save for Boil’s time with them in the future…past? Luke’s past. But Boil hadn’t been allowed to stay. Luke had been rather upset with Ben for quite some time after that.

She laughed, completely unbothered and unoffended by the notion. “We can make a squad. How does that sound?” she asked, tightening the bandages a little. It was uncomfortable but he knew the pressure would be better in the end.

He grinned, trying to turn his head towards her. “Save Galaxy and Destroy Sith Squad.”

If anyone could help him destroy the Sith, he couldn’t be surprised if she ended up being one of them. Of course, there were others he would like on that squad too.

“SGaDSS,” she snickered as she finished up and came back to his front to tie it off. It was some kind of silent and mutual agreement and they high fived. Both of their hands were sweaty, from the heat and warmth of the planet but his heart was soaring that it hardly mattered. She was a jedi and he got to meet her. He got to meet another of Ben’s friends, loved ones. “You talk kind of like him,” she said after they stopped laughing and sat down, settling against the wall. She had brought over some pillows and blankets from closet in the corner so they could lean against them instead of just the hard floor and wall.

“Who? Anakin?”

“No,” she chuckled, waving her hand. “Obi-Wan. He could be so sarcastic, so quippy. He could verbally keep up with anyone. The way he jokes with and about his troopers. The way he follows those he cares about into the fires of Hell,” she glanced away and shook her head, once again almost lost in thoughts and memories. “Just… part of the reason he is a good person to be around, to be friends with.”

He and Ben had talked a lot about love and compassion and kindness. The different types and the roles they could play in life. But love was still love, in any form. No one was higher or more important than another. It was a lesson that Luke had found solace in. “He always told me that loving someone was enough. Time and distance don’t exist when it comes to love.”

“Apparently he is very wise in the future,” Siri hummed and suddenly he was leaning against her. He was tired, because of course he was, but this was easier, just leaning on her and almost ready to fall asleep or something. He had been tired a lot lately. He wondered if it was because of the time travel. At least he hadn’t been in a coma, like Ben.

“He doesn’t…” Luke drifted off, trying to find the words but his mind was starting to get heavy. “Always make sense but he tries.”

“That’s Obi-Wan for ya,” Siri chuckled and scooted a little closer to him, possibly to make things more comfortable for either of them, or both.

“This will be the longest I have been around a jedi that wasn’t Ben,” Luke muttered.

“It hasn’t even been a day.”

Well, considering he had only met one jedi before and that was for a very short time, it wasn’t exactly hard to compete. “I have met one other jedi and it was barely for an hour,” Luke replied with a huff. “I was in a galaxy so dark, so few jedi. But here, in this time, here I have been around Skywalker, Ahsoka, Master Tiin, Master Vos… I…”

“Quinlan was there?” Siri asked, suddenly interrupting and a bit surprised.

“He came to help Ben, I’m pretty sure,” Luke replied, his heart catching pace and moving a little quicker than normal. He liked Master Vos; he was very interesting and was the only other real jedi he had met in his own past. And Ben seemed to really care about and love him too. But if he was a danger to Ben… Why? Is that…bad?”

“No, not at all,” she shook her head, blonde hair swaying a bit. “They just haven’t hung around each other for a while.”

“They’re friends.”

“Yes. Very much so,” she paused and studied him, glancing down at her shoulder where he was resting near her. “You should take a nap.”

“What? Why?” he snorted but even he knew it was obvious. He was tired.

“You heal when you sleep,” she replied bluntly and then paused before continuing, like she needed to have some sort of explanation and clarification. “We have a medic friend.”

“Bant,” he hummed. Another person Ben knew and loved and talked about. He wondered if she was still alive; he didn’t remember when she died. If she was still around; he would like to meet her. They could probably exchange notes on their caring regiments for Ben.

“Yes.”

“She’s right,” a new yet soft and familiar voice creeps into Luke’s ability to hear. Both of them glance up in the door way where Waxer was standing, partially void of armor with his arms crossed against his chest, frowning disappointedly. He shook his head and was very clear about expressing how he felt. “And I’m not happy you didn’t say something about being hurt.” He barely gave them a moment before he walked over and asked for permission to sit next to them. Luke practically took his arm and dragged the trooper down to their level. He was so warm, and kind and his presence just curled around his. Even though there were only half a dozen troopers, it was an overwhelming sense of good feelings and warmth that Luke wasn’t used to.

Luke didn’t talk much, his brain becoming heavy and tired as the moments passed on until he was barely conscious. At some point, another trooper came in, but Luke’s eyes had already been closed as his mind started to move towards sleep mode. There was talking and footsteps. Luke tried to reach out into the force, towards that warm something that had entered, and he heard a door shut. A few chuckles.

By that time, he is sound asleep and knows nothing.

Fives

The second part of the explosion was what woke them as it was very audible and even shook the ground what they were laid upon. It shook them awake for certain, even before one of the former slaves – the woman that made them a meal before – ran in started spouting hurried exclamations in a language that Fives didn’t actually understand.

The younger jedi, Luke, was practically draped across any trooper he could get close to, as well as the other, older jedi, practically clinging to them. He was embarrassed when he awoke, tucked near Lieutenant Waxer but no one said a word. Only silently untangled themselves from the boy and got up as the woman continued to babble.

They were on their feet within moments, although Jesse’s legs were tangled in the scratchy blankets, and he fell over himself. Tup couldn’t help but chuckle as he and Checkerboard, from the 212th, helped untangle him and get him up.

“What’s happened?” Captain Rex asked.

The woman continued to speak but the Captain just glanced around helplessly. He, like the rest of them, didn’t know the language that she was speaking and apparently, she didn’t have a translator either; hand held or implant.

General – Master – Something Tachi stared at the woman intently and nodded. “She said that something has exploded; she is fairly certain that it was the palace.”

“Did you explode the structure?” Checkerboard choked out.

Master Tachi just scoffed. “No. The devices that Luke and I planted were of the smoke variety and they have long gone off. There is not a way that ours could have brought even part of that building down,” she insisted.

“Do you think it was the Republic?” Jesse asked, catching his breath after his battle with the blankets and pillows.

The jedi frowned but thought about this for a moment. “I doubt it. It isn’t generally the jedi way to just explode entire government buildings, even if they are the headquarters to a slaver queen,” she paused and said a few things to the woman. After an exchange, the woman left, although Fives wasn’t entirely sure what was said. “Get ready and get dressed. We have to figure out what is going on and how to get out of here. Or, at the very least, contact someone.”

Everyone nodded, readily. She had nothing to get ready about herself and said a few things to Luke, quiet and under her breath. He started to grab his robes and armor pieces and started to put them together as she strode out of the room.

Lieutenant Waxer glanced at the boy, curious with a silent question. “She’s going to try to see if she can get contact,” Luke replied as he worked with surprising efficiency. He did stumble over some pieces of the armor, not quite used to such things, but the 212th Checkerboard, quickly moved to help him.

After a few minutes, they were all ready to move and they excited the room towards the door in the front of the building. Master – General – ugh something (Fives had no idea what to call her) Tachi was messing with some radio, working intently. He didn’t dare to ask if she was having any progress with it.

Luke stopped at the door, keeping it closed, and reached out, with his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. After a long moment, something sparked, and the boy started to bounce on his feet. “He’s here!” he cheered, chattering excitedly as he continued to repeat the phrase.

“What are you talking about?”

The boy’s eyes were shining so bright, Fives almost felt like he was blinding but he bounced around the room, nearly flying outside of the door before holding himself back and spinning around towards them again. “He is here! I can feel him! Ben! Ben is here!”

“General…Kenobi…” Lieutenant Waxer tried slowly.

Luke nodded, vigorously. “Master Tachi! Siri! Ben…Obi-Wan is here!” he called out. The jedi glanced at him with a blink.

“I’ve got some lines,” General Tachi said, instead although she smiled faintly at him. “There are reports of slavers getting injured and stealing slaves. Someone with a light saber.”

Luke paused and frowned. “But I have his saber.”

“I’m sure he borrowed someone else’s,” General Tachi assured as she stepped closer to him. “You did say Quinlan was with him and well, Quinlan works just fine with a blaster too. So, I’m sure you are right, and it is Kenobi.”

He nodded. “We have to go.”

“Luke…”

“No! We have to get back to him!” Luke insisted as he started to move again. “We have to get to him as soon as possible. There is so much to do, and danger and I have to help him!”

“Iyah said it is chaos out there, we need to be careful,” General Tachi tried to reason carefully.

“I can’t wait,” Luke shook his head and before any of them knew it, he was out the door.

General Tachi cursed in a language Fives didn’t know but both the 212th boys had raced after Luke without a moment’s notice. The general groaned. “I have to get my equipment and pack it up. Can you…”

“We’ve got it sir,” Captain Rex nodded, curtly and glanced at the others left. “Let’s move boys. Cover the padawan commander’s back. Jesse, stay here with the general…”

“Not a general!” the jedi called back.

“Give her any help and protection that she needs,” the captain finished. Fives clasped his hand with his brother before Jesse tailed after General Tachi and the other ran off after the runaway jedi padawan youngling person.

It was chaos in the streets. So many were fighting. There were pieces of debris that had fallen even as far as they had gotten and some, slower, still falling yet. Ash and dust billowed everywhere, obscuring the skies. Luke and the 212thboys were already a bit far ahead, but they were rather easily noticeable to the eye in the off white and battered armor of the troops.

“He’s just as bad as Skywalker,” the captain muttered under his breath and ran full speed through the crowds in attempt to catch up.

Fives just grinned at Tup and pulled on his helmet before following.

Oh but those were the best kind.

*

Fives didn’t know when it happened but eventually droids started showing up. Getting through towards the palace is more difficult than expected and eventually, they even get a chance to catch their breath when they run into alley ways and abandoned houses and structures. Everyone seems to be fighting everyone, from droids fighting slavers to slavers fighting slaves to slaves fighting droids and slavers. It is a whole mess, and it is easy to get off track.

Which they do.

They end up out of the way of the palace which made Luke very frustrated. They could all feel it. Perhaps it was a jedi thing, Fives thought. He trusted Skywalker with a lot; he was a good man. There were times, however, Fives felt as though he could feel his emotions in any given situation. Well, he shouldn’t say that. In any high stakes or near-death situations. Or anything that involved Senator Amidala.

Luke’s frustrations are practically palpable, and it nearly makes Fives feel that way too. He is fairly certain it must be a jedi thing because no way is he normally feeling like this, even with the situation that they are embroiled in. He’s panicked and scared and desperate.

It is a lot more chaotic than even Umbara and often times, the group keeps losing one another for moments or even near hour at a time. There is no battlefield, no ground to take. There are no real sides. It is just unbridled and intense chaos.

Rumors begin to swirl around about lightsabers and the jedi. Some slaves from the palace running with panic, screaming about several men in light sabers fighting one another and the death of the queen. Fives didn’t think Luke could get anymore worried and desperate.

He was very wrong.

Fives wouldn’t blame Luke for what was to come next.

Brothers died in battle no matter where they were. It was a fact of their lives, and he knew that the jedi did their best. They just couldn’t save everyone and even then, sometimes they could – and did – lose their own lives in the process. This was a battlefield of a different breed, Fives thought. He almost thought they would survive this.

He should have known better.

Fives didn’t really know Check but that didn’t mean his death didn’t hurt.

And he knew it had hit Luke pretty hard too.

The moment he saw the trooper go down; they both knew it was over. There was no way the soldier could have survived that shot. But even though Luke had fought in the battle on Umbara with Lieutenant Waxer’s platoon, a group of soldiers that included Check, his reaction was not something any soldier should have advised.

He stopped and stared, frozen in place. Shocked and unmoving, as if unable to comprehend anything going on around him in the world. Captain Rex shouted something, possibly for Luke to get a hold of himself, possibly for one of them to get him out of the line of fire. Fives, of course, couldn’t do anything about the former as of yet, but he could do the latter. Running across the field from his cover, Fives literally tackled Luke down to the ground and behind a stack of crates near a door. Without a word or anything, he practically dragged the boy into the house.

They were lucky, no one was home.

Leaning Luke upright against the wall in a sitting position, Fives closed the door to give them a few minutes and gave the rest of them a short brief on the comms. As of currently, Luke was in no shape to keep moving. He asked for the jedi, perhaps she could help him, but General Tachi was a bit off with Lieutenant Waxer and Jesse. It would be quite a few moments before she could get to them. She simply ordered for them to find cover and stay put. They needed the break, possibly a nap, and for Luke to come back to them before anyone could make another run for the palace. It always seemed so far off; it would still take quite some time.

“Luke,” Fives tried with a frown, pressing a hand against the boy’s shoulder on his pauldron. Tears were starting to come from the boy’s blue eyes, steadily and finally, the first emotion finally came up. It wasn’t much but it was something. “Look, I know this is tough. Losing someone you care about, no matter how long you have known them, it’s…it’s heart breaking. And in war, where people die it’s even worse because you don’t…you don’t have a moment to stop and grieve. You don’t have a moment for burial or saying goodbye. It’s something you try to prepare for but… you can’t.”

He was in front of him before sitting down himself next to the jedi-in-training, or whatever he was, and sighed, taking off his helmet and setting it aside.

“I’m not trying to scold you or anything, but this is war, and we are going to lose people,” Fives tried, unsteadily. “And we don’t… it often happens so fast. There is no time for goodbyes and even less time for grief, in the moment. I lost…I lost my brother really fast. He did something…. something that I would have been the one to do and it just…one moment he was right by me and the next he was gone. Explosion and we had to move, there wasn’t a second to spare.”

Luke’s face started to scrunch up and Fives counted that as a win, although his feelings were mostly tied up in the memories. The boy blinked and stared at him, like he wasn’t completely sure. “Echo?”

Fives stared right back at him, his head whipping around, eyes wide. Because…he hadn’t said his name. “How did you…”

An explosion went off and the glass of the window above them shattered, spraying the contents and other debris into the house and over them. Luke threw himself over Fives in an effort to protect him from the flying debris which Fives, absentmindedly thought was a little amusing and ironic.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Fives muttered without his permission. The door busted through and both of them startled, soon to be relieved as it was only Tup and Captain Rex that came through.

“You guys good?”

“Yessir,” Fives grumbled as he got out from underneath Luke. The boy responded but Fives’ ears were ringing and he couldn’t quite make out what he had said.

“General Tachi wants us to wait for her, get some rest and so we can regroup,” Tup relayed.

“I heard,” Fives sighed and glanced around. “The place looks pretty abandoned, at least for now.”

“Most people who aren’t fighting are hiding in their homes,” the captain responded, also taking a look around. He gestured to Tup, who went to make sure and secure the perimeter. “So, my guess is that they are still out there fighting or dead. General Tachi shouldn’t be too long, but she also said we don’t have to wait up for her. Take a nap she said.”

Fives scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I guess I’ll find some blankets and pillows and a good large room to hole up in.”

It wasn’t that hard. The place wasn’t very big and eventually he found a living room space where the hard furniture could be moved to the walls, reinforce them and barricade any windows and doors. Unless someone came in with a full tactical team, it should hold out for at least a few hours. By the time General Tachi got to the house, flanked by Lieutenant Waxer and Jesse, Luke was half asleep but tried his best went they came in.

The Lieutenant was holding Check’s helmet and Luke burst into tears again.

They left the two of them alone for a moment. Well, it was a bit longer than a moment. Fives explained a bit on what happened with Check and Luke’s reaction. Luke may have been used to running and fighting and even conflict, but he wasn’t not used to the realities of war. Not like this.

They came back in after quite some time. Luke was already lightly snoring and fast asleep against Waxer’s shoulder, who was half asleep himself. And so, they made a perimeter around one another for moments of rest over the next several hours.

It is barely an hour in and already Luke is tangled up and cuddling with several troopers, as if reaching out and trying to be in contact with as many of them as he could.

“If no one else is gonna say it,” Jesse started, keeping his voice rather quiet as to not awake the young’un. “I ain’t gonna lie, is it strange that he is all…touchy and cuddly? I didn’t think jedi were…really like that.”

Everyone looked over at General Tachi, who frowned and took a breath, her lips twitching. “He is…touch started but not quite either. It is difficult to explain because jedi are very different. But one of the reasons the jedi start so young, adopted young and raised together is so they can form bonds with others like them. It is often necessary for healthy development.”

“But Luke…he wasn’t raised like that,” Waxer realized, glancing down at the child before looking back up at General Tachi. He looked quite worried and concerned. After only a few days of knowing this child, he was already so attached. Fives wondered if that was normal for him. “So he doesn’t have those bonds.”

“Luke’s presence is latching onto other jedi and connected beings,” General Tachi continued. “He has several fledgling bonds which help his… starvation but considering Obi-Wan and him were constantly on the run, Luke probably didn’t get much time with them and so they either faded or remained very thin; barely there. He’s already formed some type of connections with you.”

“All of us?”

“Luke’s presence in the force is starving for connections,” she added, and Fives could tell there was a hint of concern in her voice, although she mostly kept emotions out of it. “It won’t interfere with you or anything and if left unattended, it shouldn’t grow.”

“It helps him?” Waxer asked.

General Tachi nodded, a bit gravely. This was a rather serious topic, Fives realized. “It is partially why he is even more cuddly than normal, even for a jedi.”

Waxer held Luke close, as if that would help. The boy just huffed into his shoulder. “And…if the bond…if it does grow stronger? Is that okay?” he added, looking back up at General Tachi, eyebrows scrunched together as his concern became more and more evident on his physical features.

General Tachi just nodded.

“Even from a clone?”

“Especially from a clone.”

“What does that mean?”

“Obi-Wan could explain it better,” she confessed with a small sigh. Luke’s arm sleepily touched hers and she moved a little closer to him. “I don’t have a clone attachment or much experience with you.”

“Can you try?”

“I’m not sure if anyone, you or anyone really understands how well the clones and the jedi connect with one another, fit together, how easy it is to share bonds with,” she started, making sure to look between all of them. “Your warmth and light in the Force…as Obi-Wan tells it, although different individuals, is clicks very well with our own. This is rather quite unusual for non-force sensitives. Obi-Wan told me once it’s like we were made for you, that we were meant to be together in some way.”

“They used to say on Kamino,” Rex said quietly. He hadn’t been speaking a whole lot as of late, listening quiet and with purpose and the mention of Kamino brought both nostalgia and bitterness to all of the troopers. Their brothers were still there but it was not generally a good place to be. “We were made for the jedi.”

General Tachi thought about this and hummed. Perhaps it was agreement or disagreement or neither, Fives wasn’t sure. She was hard to read and hard to understand, much more so than their own general. “Perhaps. But I don’t think it is one sided,” she swiped Luke’s bangs to the side, gently. He exhaled again. “Many of the jedi will continue to choose you. Obi-Wan continues to choose you. It is a new galaxy and things are changing. If you will have us, we will gladly stay with you.”

“I don’t know anyone except the jedi who have cared anything for us,” Lieutenant Waxer confessed. “And I can’t speak for everyone of course, but I think we would rather be with you than any other people in the galaxy, if we had to choose.”

“You should get some sleep,” General Tachi said instead, glancing over towards the window that Fives and Tup had already blocked.

“We should set up watches for the next few hours,” Rex replied, leaving the previous conversation with ease and picking up the new one just as easily.

“Do not worry. I have it covered.”

“You can’t do it by yourself.”

“Oh yes I can. Just….trust me on this one,” she winked.

Luke

When Luke wakes up, he is drowning in a clone cuddle pile and practically has to claw his way out, his face completely red and flush with embarrassment. He is sputtering by the end of it but tries with all of his skill and work not to wake them up while trying to get himself out of the pile.

Master Tachi glanced at him from the side of the pile, out of the sleeping troopers and smirked at him, amused. “Sleep well?” she snickered.

Luke just blushed and glanced away, moving towards her as quietly and gently as he could.

“It is nothing to be ashamed of, Luke. You are an empath and crave connections naturally,” she pointed out. It wasn’t something that Luke didn’t know, in particular, but it was different here and now. Things were still dark but still so much lighter than the time he was from. There were others to connect to so close and actually around. It was so much. “It just seems so extreme now because you have never had so much before and now, there is much to have.”

“It…it’s been just Ben and me for a long time,” Luke confessed as he sat down next to her, hugging his knees. He glanced over at his armor piled over in the corner and reached for the closest pieces. “Before that it was just Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru but I don’t think they quite…understood.”

“Many do not,” she hummed.

“I love Ben,” he added, quickly. It was the truth; Ben was the only person he had with him, everyone else was gone forever or deceased. “He…he is pretty much all I have. It is hard without him around. I…I just have never been around so much….”

“Light, warmth?” she suggested.

“Hyperspace is cold, and we are not planet side a lot,” he explained. He tried to talk about a bit on their situation, in the future, past, whatever. It was easy to talk to her. Maybe it was because she was a jedi. Perhaps it was because Ben knew her and told him about her. Maybe she just was easy to talk to for him. “Ben is very warm, but this is different.”

“Everyone feels different, especially jedi,” Master Tachi assured. “You have been starved of that. It is why we raise out children in creches, together.”

“Ben told me about creches,” Luke hugged his knees tighter as he clipped the shin guards to his lower legs. He didn’t look at her, rather thinking about so much all at once. “I think I would have liked it.”

She nodded and the outer wall shook a little. They both glanced towards the little window on that side of the room. The conversation was over, Luke thought to himself. It wasn’t long; he wished he could talk more with her, but it was clear. “The fighting is getting close again,” she pointed out with a frown. “We should move.”

Luke nodded. “Any ideas on where to go?”

“I have been working on establishing communications with Obi-Wan’s ship,” Master Tachi explained as she grabbed some of her own gear and began putting it on. Her radio was in the corner, and she glanced at it as some kind of gesture to guide his gaze towards the appliance. “They are being pretty tight lipped, and I don’t have his codes.”

“Probably don’t want Dooku to get any information,” Luke added. Whether or not this was the truth, it made sense anyways. He wondered where the Count was now and if he was making problems for Ben and the troopers. “Do you think they have troops on the ground?”

Master Tachi paused and frowned again. “Not sure. This place isn’t Republic friendly or even wants to be,” she replied as she stood up, finishing putting on her own gear, so different from what Luke and the other troopers were wearing. “The Jedi have taken out the Zygerrian slave empire before but…everything was different then.”

He didn’t know exactly what that meant, in particular but he followed her, putting on his smaller pieces and Master Tachi helping him clip on the gorget. “If they take out the enemy ship, I think they can drive the Separatists away,” Luke said. “I only saw one up there, I don’t think they were planning for an invasion.”

“I think you are right.”

“I have no doubt the palace is in chaos, but I don’t think there is any order for power players. No one seems organized. We might be able to get there. That is probably where Ben would look since he was following Dooku.”

“That level of chaos could mean lack of leadership,” Siri murmured as she messed around a bit with her portable radio. “The queen may be incapacitated or dead, meaning there would be a power vacuum.”

“That would also mean less guards, we could probably slip through. No one is giving orders,” he added.

“Or too many are for any type or organization.”

“Even if Ben is done looking through the palace, he would still be around that area,” Luke said.

“He is not going to just give up,” Master Tachi nodded. “Especially not with Quinlan with him.”

“So, we head towards the palace then.”

“The closer we are, the easier it will be to get communications with the Republic – or better yet – Obi-Wan’s fleet,” Master Tachi added with a grin growing on her face.

“The closer we are, the more likely I will be able to feel Ben better,” Luke added with a matching grin as he brightened up, significantly. He just needed to find Ben. Things would be okay if he could just get to him. “Don’t try to lie to me and say you don’t have a pretty strong bond with him too.”

“He is one of my closest friends,” she admitted.

“Look at you two,” a new voice piped in with a chuckle. Both Luke and Master Tachi glanced around. The troopers were all at least awake with vaguely amused expressions. A few were even moving towards their armor piles to get ready for moving out at a moment’s notice. “Makin plans without us,” Jesse added.

“Thought you could use the extra beauty sleep,” Luke grinned, cheekily.

“You little brat,” Jesse teased.

They talk a little while everyone gets ready and dressed. Master Tachi gave them a short rundown of what they were going to be doing; moving back towards the Palace. There was some apprehension, going back to that horrid place. Luke completely understood, even just thinking about made him rather upset, skin vibrating for the need for justice. If it was his choice, no one would have to go anywhere near it again. But he had to find Ben. They had to find Ben and they needed to get off of this planet.

The little group had left soon after, quiet and out of the back door, away from the chaos outside. The fighting and struggling had not ceased exactly, as there were still slavers, slaves and droids still fighting amongst one another. Luke kept Check’s helmet clipped to his belt and no one said a word about it.

They couldn’t exactly avoid the fighting and conflict and eventually, they had to move towards the more main roads to make their way towards the palace. They avoided them, of course, whenever they could. By the time they had to get to the main road, which was a straight shot to the palace, they were about knee deep in conflict.

It kind of amazed him how easy they worked together. Master Tachi had never really worked with these troopers before barely – if any – either. Luke himself had only fought alongside Waxer and only for a few moments, the other troopers as well. But the five boys they had with him and Master Tachi, they had quickly adapted to the way they moved and the way they worked. Moving with the troopers was easy, even though there weren’t many of them. They didn’t a fairly good job keeping up with him and Master Tachi and although neither of them were actually used to working with troopers, they seemed to blend well together when it came to helping each other out and having each other’s back.

Master Tachi had a blaster on her, and he knew she wouldn’t bring out her lightsaber unless it was absolutely necessary. Ben had been the same way during their travels. It often times brought unwanted attention.

Luke, on the other hand, didn’t have another weapon and he had a much larger and passionate need to fight and protect. He made arcs with Ben’s light saber like he was born for it. Perhaps, in some ways, he was.

The loss of Check was a heavy weight, but they kept moving.

The young boy from the future wouldn’t let anyone die on his account, not with this. There were six others with him – he could keep them alive. He had to keep them alive. He did not leave them and kept them within his sights the best he possibly could. It was hard to keep them together as they seemed to have the same idea about one another. Luke caught a blaster shot with the force that came too close to Jesse’s face for comfort. Tup shot a slaver that was coming up on Luke’s six.

Getting so close to the palace, they stayed tight knit until the courtyard was in place. They paused in an out-of-the-way alley to come up with a plan, right outside of the palace perimeter. “It is absolute and complete chaos out there but I can feel Ben,” Luke said hurriedly, his voice rising in excitement and plenty of eagerness. “I can sneak in and since I can sense him, I’ll be able to find him quicker. I’ll bring him back.”

“I don’t think that’s a good…”

“Look, I got this, okay?” Luke insisted and didn’t wait for an answer. He ran out of the hiding place and leapt on top of the building nearby, racing across the rooftops up and away from the fighting crowds down below. Eventually he had to get back to the ground as he got inside the palace courtyard where the battle started to thin out a little.

He reached out in the Force and tried to concentrate. He could feel Ben. He knew he could feel him.

And then…

“Luke!”

The yell was raw, screeching into the stormy chaos of the battle, as if his voice alone was desperate enough to demand the person of his desire to be returned.

“Luke!” it tried again, near at the top of his lungs.

“Ben?”

Luke couldn’t help but perk at the sound of his name. Oh, how he hoped that it was real, that it was his voice and not his wishful thinking or the screams of another being. The being that he so desperately wanted it to be.

“Luke?” the voice called out tentatively.

It was real! It was Ben’s voice!

The youngster jumped back into the fray of disorder and conflict without a second thought. “Ben!” Luke shouted back as he fought harder against the chaos, clawing his way through anyone and everyone. His saber was off now, clipped to his belt. Because now, he didn’t need it. He fought through the crowd with his hands and the undeniable power of the force, forcing his way through them with enough strength to make others even jump out of the way.

Then he saw him. Because even though it had been fifteen years and Ben’s appearance was so different; not that weathered and oh so greying older man that Luke knew; he could recognize him. It didn’t matter that his hair was a brownish ginger instead of the grey and white. It didn’t matter that his skin was younger and smoother instead of washed out and wrinkled. It didn’t matter that he was in armor pieces and under robes rather than the larger cloaks and well-used clothes. It didn’t even matter that his eyes were bluer now, had more color instead of the tired and older gaze Luke knew.

None of that mattered. Luke would know him anywhere, no matter how much of his physical appearance may have changed. He would never forget. He never could.

Tears were pricking at his eyes then, but they weren’t quite clouding his vision. He choked out the name before charging towards his guardian. Ben may not have known what Luke was going to do but he quickly figured it out. Luke ran and leapt at him with no small amount of abandon, with all the excitement and relief coursing through him and all of the desperation and fear washing away, out from his bones.

He was pretty sure that he was crying, and it did not matter. In that moment, nothing mattered but him. Because Luke was no longer alone. Whether or not everything was real, whatever Ben knew or did not know, it hardly mattered. Luke was no longer alone and all he wanted was to be wrapped up in Ben’s robe in the way he did when he was younger. He wanted to tell Ben of all the things that he had been through and all the things they could do now. Now that they had this chance. This chance to change everything and save so many.

“I know you can catch me, old man! You don’t have any grey hairs!”

And he does; Ben catches him and wraps his arms around Luke so tight, he doesn’t think the older man will ever let go. He doesn’t really want him to. Because in this moment, he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Ben is here. It doesn’t matter if he remembered Luke or not. It doesn’t matter what Ben knew or what he didn’t. He held Luke like he always held Luke, with strength and love and compassion. Like Luke had nothing in the world to worry about ever.

“You remember me.”

He didn’t know if he was right or not. Rather, it was a guess, but Ben just chuckled and curled his arms around Luke, secure and tight. “I could never forget,” he whispered, and Luke held on even snugger, wrapping his limbs around his guardian and locking his face in the crook of his neck, brown ginger hair tickling his face. “Foolish child, running off into war,” Ben mumbled with a fond huff.

“I had to try and save Waxer,” Luke said, exhaling the best he could. He felt out of breath and like he may never get it back. “I’m not sorry.” He wasn’t, he couldn’t quite be. He just wanted to help them in any way he could. He couldn’t save Checkerboard and that was going to haunt him, but he tried to make sure he remembered about all the other ones that he had helped. He had kept Waxer alive. He helped stop Krell’s massacre. He had tried and tried and tried.

“I’m not upset,” Ben assured quietly. Distantly, Luke could hear a small explosion go off. He was glad that he had found his guardian in a spot where there wasn’t blatant battle going on. “You just scared me near to death. I’m an old man, Beacon, my heart can’t take such things.”

“You’re over 15 years in the past you dummy,” Luke choked on near tears, but his chest was bubbling with laughter, something of relief and amusement. “You aren’t even old,” he paused and snuggled just a bit closer, so thankful and unable to let him go at the moment. He would, soon, of course. There was a lot of work to do but he would keep the minute. “I’m so glad you are okay.”

“I will never abandon you.”

Something in his chest loosened which helped him loosen his grip, even if only a little bit. That reminded him, Luke thought as he gave out an actual audible chuckle. “I have the very best present for you,” he murmured with a smile, amusement swelling.

“Oh? How fortuitous,” Ben rumbled, just as entertained as him. Luke didn’t know if anyone was watching or around, but it didn’t matter. Not to him. All there needed to be was Ben and him. Even if only for a minute. “As it so happens, I have a gift for you as well.”

“You got me a present?!” Luke cheered, surprised and excited as he perked up and leaned back to look at him. Luke could see the smirk that was forming underneath Ben’s mustache and beard, a twinkle so apparent in his eye. “What is it?” he asked.

“You will have to wait until we get back to the ship,” Ben chuckled as he let Luke down back to the ground.

“I bet my gift is better!” Luke boasted, his smile sly and knowing as he leaned back on his heels with the slyest grin he could muster. He didn’t think there was anything that could be better than bringing Ben back a loved one and he knew it.

“Oh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in that way Luke had seen so many times before. “I don’t know…” he drifted off with the shake of his head. He sounded very sure of himself. “My gift is pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.”

Luke’s eyes sparkled and he took Ben’s hand, firm and secure. He was just getting more and more excited. He couldn’t wait to see Ben’s face when he showed him the person that Luke had come across because oh! He had brought back someone Ben cared about; someone he hadn’t seen in over a decade and half. “Come on! I left her with the troopers.”

“Her?” Ben echoed, questioningly, but Luke wrapped his hand tighter and practically dragged him across the courtyard, through some of the sides of the conflict before he brought him back to the little structure that his team was hiding in. He got down the alley and called out to the troopers. Waxer was the first to turn, the others following close behind as they realized who was coming up to them and putting their weapons down.

Waxer tore of his helmet and all Luke could see and feel was near absolute relief. “General!”

“Master!” Luke called out as Ben finally stopped, unable to move forward.

Because he saw.

Ben was staring, Luke noticed. His glanced between the two of them, uncertain about what would happen next, but he couldn’t help but feel excitement nearly overcome him. The female master grinned at the sight of them and walked, firm and with purpose, her face scraped up and dirty from fighting and finding rest in the little, out of the way places they could. As she came up to him, Ben reached up, hesitant and rubbed some of the light layer of dirt from her cheek.

“May I?” he murmured under his breath.

Luke’s own caught.

“Of course.” Even though she was expecting it, Luke could tell she was surprised by Ben’s hug and how tightly he wound around her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Kenobi?” she hummed as she relaxed a little into the embrace.

“You have no idea.”

“I do. At least a little. Luke told me.”

“Tachi!” a new voice cheered, and Luke glanced around. It was Master Vos, and he was jogging towards them with a couple others, a mix of troopers and jedi. Well, one jedi. He hadn’t even realized that there had been troopers and the jedi master around when he found Ben, much less of them following the two of them. “I knew it had to be you,” he snickered, turning to lean against the wall, as if he needed a brace to prevent himself from falling over with his laughter.

“Vos,” Master Tachi replied in a mock flat tone but even Luke could feel and see that she wasn’t nearly as unimpressed as she made herself out to sound. “At the very least, you kept Obi-Wan alive.”

“Hey! You weren’t there when I was trying to convince him this was time travel and not a Sith trick or torture,” Master Vos shot back, grinning wide. Neither of them was actually upset or mad or anything negative really at one another, but it was rather amusing to watch them all interact. It was funny; Luke had a bit of a hard time seeing them as such close friends with Ben.

“Well, you seemed to do that at the least,” Master Tachi huffed with a smile as the two of them leaned back and she crossed her arms over her chest for some kind of effect.

“Is everyone here?”

“We lost Checkerboard in the fight,” Waxer stepped up for a short report as Luke glanced away, his chest heating up in grief and shame. Ben put a hand on his shoulder, warm and soothing. “The other troops that were taken are accounted for.”

“Commander Cody went back up to the ship to help Sergeant Barlex fight off the Separatist ship and it appears they are doing well,” Master Vos explained, pointing upwards into the sky where they could just make out two ships, mildly obscured by the clouds and atmosphere. There may have been others, but they couldn’t be seen from the ground. Luke didn’t know.

“The Zygerrians are winning the fight with the droids too,” Rex mumbled as he looked between the jedi masters. “But they are an absolute mess. There is no organization; just fighting for fighting’s sake.”

“We have a lot of work to do,” Luke added in, firm and determined. He wasn’t wrong. Beyond this, with their chance, there was so much to do if they were going to save the troopers, the jedi and the galaxy. “We should convene with the Jedi Council, create a plan and get to work on saving the galaxy from the Empire and the Sith.”

Ben chuckled, lightly as he shot Luke a glance, a single eyebrow raised a bit curiously but Luke could feel his shields tightening a little more. “Oh, should we?”

“We do need the help,” Luke pointed out, red with embarrassment as he looked away as he realized what he said and how he said it. “R-Right.”

The jedi master just kept snickering. “Yes,” he glanced back at the others and got a look at the other jedi behind him. Luke hadn’t even noticed him come up and his breath caught in his chest. Ben perked and looked back at Luke, looking so genuinely kind and nice. Luke’s heart fell a bit. “Luke, I’ve heard you met your…”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Luke interrupted, rather loudly, in a rare show of disrespect. He tried not to let much of anything slip past as he tightened his shields as best, he could, staring at his father with his jaw set. He had to figure out how to play this. Honestly, he had to figure out how to deal with this, especially now, in the time and situation that they both were in. Ben didn’t know that Luke knew. Knew who Anakin Skywalker, his father, became. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

Ben turned confused and it was so wounded and genuine that it near physically hurt Luke to see him respond like that. “Luke…you…know who he is,” Ben said, his response slow and measured, deliberate. Cautious.

Luke hated it. “I do,” he nodded, staring just barely at Anakin.

“I am rather, confused, Luke, why…”

“Could we talk about this, later? Perhaps in private?” Luke fidgeted, glancing down at his gloved hands, his voice quieting into something that others, unless standing right by them, wouldn’t be able to hear. Luke never thought he would have this change, to have to be in this type of scenario. Luke never thought that he would meet his father as Anakin Skywalker, not after knowing what Vader had done and how many times, he had chased them, nearly killing the both of them. He had to figure out how to deal with and what to do with the change and knowledge that he had.

Ben’s brows were drawn but he nodded, solemn. “Of course. Later,” he responded, still careful and curious and worried. “But we will talk about it. This is most unlike you.”

Luke sighed, inwardly in relief. This was not the time or the place or in the right company. He couldn’t talk about this with his father actually in the vicinity. He didn’t know how he would react and there was so much more to do. “I know,” he flipped the hilt of Ben’s saber towards its owner. “This is yours. I’m sorry I borrowed it without asking.”

“Keep it for now,” Ben replied, pushing the hilt back towards him. “I’m glad you did. My crystal is willing to work with you, as always. Hopefully, in this time, you will be able to create your own.”

Luke perked subtly.

They all caught it.

“I think it is about time that we got off of this…. planet,” Ben said, carefully, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice.

“Agreed,” came a chorus of voices in near unison.

“Commander Cody can get a ship down here within a few minutes,” Master Vos announced, already messing with his commlink. “But we have to get to a nearby landing platform.”

“Shouldn’t be toohard,” Luke replied. “We’ve got four jedi, a handful of highly competent troopers and a guy who is not half bad with a lightsaber.”

“That…is how you are describing yourself?” Ben said, an eyebrow raising curiously. Luke shrugged as the troopers made a quick perimeter around them, ready to move out whenever given the order. “You know, with where and when we are, the Jedi Order is still around,” he pointed out.

“I want to help you keep it that way.”

“I know,” Ben nodded, solemnly. “I am fairly certain I can convince the Council to let you in the Order, if, of course, we happen to stay here. You’d have some catching up to do but you have been trained quite a bit and I think you have enough training to be picked up as a padawan.”

Luke felt his entire body freeze. “Picked up?” he choked out.

Ben kept his gaze completely void of any telltale emotions or thoughts; his shields as tight as they could be. “Of course. You are very talented, Luke. Kind, compassionate, determined and so eager to learn. If this is still what you want.”

He just stared back at him because…because he inferred that he wouldn’t be Ben’s padawan. That just…he wanted to be Ben’s padawan. Luke remembered the vision and trial he went through in the Lothal Temple. This was…it was always supposed to be them.

He would just have to prove himself. “I still want it,” he stated, firmly.

Ben nodded.

“We should get going,” Master Tachi popped in, speaking slowly, glancing between them with a varying range of emotions screaming across her face. They agreed and without another turn of phrase, they ran off.

Getting to the landing pad was easy. There was Luke, four incredibly talented jedi and a handful of insanely amazing troopers that could practically carve a path without hardly breaking a sweat. And it was right in time. The gunship landed just at the moment they came into view. They jumped in and off they went up towards the flagship which was beating down at the lone Separatist ship it was battling.

Commander Cody was waiting for them, along with a few others, most of which Luke recognized. There was Kix and Helix and…

“Boil!” Luke grinned with all the happiness and eagerness and relief he could project into the name. The trooper always looked surprised when Luke said his name like that and sure, this Boil didn’t have the same experiences with and without Luke that the older one did but he was still Boil. It didn’t matter.

He smiled though, warmer than most would expect with his shoulders sagging just a bit. “Hey kid. Sportin’ the armor pretty good.”

“I’m sorry I took it, but I had to sneak onto a gunship,” Luke shrugged before practically bowling the trooper over, Waxer hot on his heels. He was laughing and clasped Boil’s shoulder in greeting as the latter tried to get a handle on the squid-like hug that Luke gave. “I had to keep Waxer alive.”

When he got back to the ground and stood back, Boil’s brows were furrowed, and he frowned in realization. He glanced at Waxer, and they exchanged looks. Luke wasn’t entirely sure what they meant.

“All of you are going to need a check up and scan,” Helix butted in, Kix right at his side. They looked almost like twins. Well, really only for the fact that they had the same displeased expression on their faces. Luke tried to hush down his laugh.

“I will hand them all over to your capable care,” Ben assured as he walked closer to the group. Master Vos was whispering to Master Tachi which ended in them both snickering, almost uncontrollably. “But I do have a gift for Luke, if you don’t mind waiting a moment to take him.”

Helix shrugged. “Fine.”

Ben glanced around at the other troopers. “Did Gearshift come with you?” he asked as he got closer to Luke and wrapped a thin cloth around his eyes, making sure he could see a thing. Luke just scoffed good naturedly.

“Gearshift!” someone called out.

There were footsteps from a human and…something else. A clacking noise. A lot of them actually. It stopped and there were a few other quiet noises. “Can I loooooook??” Luke’s voice came out in a near whine. A few chuckles erupted from those around him.

Ben was standing next to him as someone untied and took off the blindfold. And in front of Luke, in Ben’s hands, was the cutest little BD explorer type droid Luke thinks he had ever seen. Washed in grey and gold, it’s little head looked up at him and squeaked in a binary Luke wasn’t entirely sure he understood but the meaning was clear. Plenty of curiosity.

His heart practically stopped. Could it be? No way.

No way.

“Is this…” he drifted off, unable to form words. He glanced at Ben, eyes wide and near pleading. “Are you serious?”

“I happened to have found her on the ship that we hijacked on our way here,” Ben explained with one of the fondest smiles Luke had ever seen up on him. “I helped fix her up, Anakin helped fix her up and she needs a bit more tweaking and probably a program update, but I thought you might like her. We talked a bit and she claimed she will give you a chance. She’s had a bit of a difficult time and would like a memory wipe, but I think you two will get along.”

“You got me a droid?!”

“I’m not sure if I would say got. I didn’t exactly pay for her or anything. Rather…liberated, in a way,” Ben pointed out.

Luke reached out his hands to let the little droid hop into his palms. He nearly felt like crying. “She’s so cute,” he whispered as she beeped at him, quick and excited. “I…can’t understand what she is saying though. Not fully.”

“It’s coded binary. Don’t worry, that can be changed in the programming.”

“Can we keep both?”

“Yes? But why?”

“I’d like to learn it. I think it would be fun. What’s her name?”

“Her designation is BD-42, but she claims to be amendable for changes.”

Luke hummed and stared at his new little droid friend. This was just… a dream. There was no other explanation. “Hmmm. We will have to brainstorm, won’t we, girl? I’m sure we can come up with something fantastic that is very you.” He looked up at Ben and he knew his eyes were sparkling because, well, they had to be. “Thank you, Ben.”

“I did promise you a droid at some point.”

“I think…. I think we might be a good team,” Luke agreed. “And we have a lot to do with an uncertain amount of time to do it.”

[akampana]

Prompt n.24 sounds very interesting. Arturia is a king, but also a knight. And the one thing a knight has by their side, is their trusted weapon...

But we know that sometimes, a weapon is not just a weapon. Sometimes its much more...

Right, Cu Alter?

24. “You will never lose me. I will always be right here beside you.”

Cu Alter x Arturia

One-shot, set in a world where Cú Chulainn and King Arthur exist in the same time period. Enjoy! Thanks for the ask!

___

A loud clang resounded within the stone confines of the throne room, and yet it was quiet compared to the storm raging hell outside, and quieter still to the turmoil that wracked King Arthur’s mind.

Tristan’s desertion was followed by those of a number of knights. The first crack in the glass foundation that kept Camelot’s flag flying high. The exposure of Lancelot’s affair, however, was the hammer that finally smashed it to smithereens. Now here she was left amongst the rubble, with an aggrieved Gawain, a conflicted Bedivere and the cold, dead body of poor Agravain, who fell victim to her excommunicated First Knight. Arturia did not know where Merlin was. Kay had left months ago with all his fortune. She needn’t be a genius to know he wasn’t coming back.

What the people demanded was revenge for King Arthur’s cuckolding: the hunt and execution of the treacherous French knight that fled to his homeland, to whom Arturia held no grudge. Her logic demanded she carry out the farce, but what remained of her sealed-up heart did not.

From this derived her conflict, which she wrestled in solitude, here at the glaringly empty Round Table that used to seat her comrades.

Pursue the man she’s forgiven or stay her hand? Give the people what they want or stand by her own beliefs?

Arturia flinched as cool metal brushed against her fingertips, her startled eyes climbing to meet orbs the color of the wine she just spilled.

“King—!” the glare he sent her stilled her tongue at once, his inhuman crimson eyes glowing in the dim candlelight.

“Cú,” she corrected herself, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. Her thinner night garbs did little to hide the secret of her sex. In the dead of night, she wasn’t expecting any visitors. Especially not at the Round Table, which was devoid of all life at this hour.

“Has your fire gone out for the night?” she said, twisting her father’s silver ring around her thumb as she spoke, “I will arrange for a servant to assist you at once—”

“Forget it,” interrupted the brutal warrior, reclining himself into Lancelot’s former seat as he poured his own goblet. “Can’t sleep in all this racket.”

She knew instinctively he didn’t mean the storm. Regretful green eyes inspected the mess in the corner, wasted wine that was a victim to her ire. Briefly, she wondered how the foreign king could hear her from all the way in the east wing, but it was hardly important. Cú was already a man of few words. He wouldn’t waste any on small talk.

“Yer gonna chase the bastard, aren’t ya? It’s what yer subjects want,” came his raspy declaration, cutting in through the silence just before a crack of lightning illuminated the room. Their eyes clashed in the glaring white light, blood orbs against evergreen.

“I can...I cannot deny them the justice they expect of me,” she answered, grief lacing the small voice that barely carried itself through the thunder.

“So you deny yerself. Just like you’ve done all yer life. Ain’t that right, Arturia?”

It took King Arthur a moment to fully grasp what had come out of his lips. Her breath began to labor as she wracked her brain for an excuse. Panic settled into her bones faster than the snow outside seeped into the grass. Before she could formulate anything, however, she felt Cú’s fingers encircle her wrist.

“Relax. I ain’t telling no one. Weapons don’t talk, remember?” he soothed, as much as an emotionless killing machine could, anyway.

“You are not just a weapon. We have been over this.” Arturia shot back, momentarily forgetting the source of her stress.

As her frantic breaths began to still, she managed a small question. “How long have you known?”

His claws released their grip, lamenting the small indents they left on her skin. “Since ya wasted yer fourteenth seat on a foreign king that once would have torn yer land asunder.”

Cú reached past her arms, lifting the wool cloak from the short king’s chest. Sure enough, he now had his confirmation, a modest chest that was so cleverly hidden behind her armor plates.

“‘Tis of little consequence to me,” he voiced, replacing the garment she pulled so closely around herself. She watched him as he gave her another glass of wine, trying to discern if he spoke the truth.

“I don’t bloody care about what’s between yer legs, the same way you never cared for this fucking tail that trails behind me. All I need to hear are yer orders,” her allied king continued, flicking away a loose strand of hair with the scaly appendage.

“If ya wanna kill Lancelot, Arturia, I’m with ya. Point me in the way of France. But if not, then gimme some other fucking command. I don’t give a shit, as long as it’s what ya want.”

The King of Knights pursed her lip, still unaccustomed to hearing her real name from one who wasn’t supposed to know her secret. Especially when the one who used it was someone she did not expect: the displaced King of Connacht, who was more frequently an envoy serving at her court as an allied Warrior of the Round Table than the ruler of his late queen’s territory. The latter job, Cú had delegated to Fergus, as the “Mad” King had chosen to dedicate his freedom to the one that liberated him.

Arturia shook off his crass manner of speech. After nearly a decade of having him by her side, she’d grown accustomed to his language, even if he was frequently scoffed at by Agravain and Gaheris when the siblings still lived.

The reminder of her knights’ deaths led her gaze back to her table and its empty seats. There were so few that still belonged to the living. Some of them were never to be filled again. Arturia turned to her right, to where Lancelot once sat, meeting ruby eyes instead of onyx ones.

“Then how about this,” she suggested, imprinting the Irish King’s face into her memory the same way she’d done for the rest of her knights. Slowly, she slipped off the silver ring she’d been fiddling with and slid it onto his pinky.

“Return to your homeland with as much gold as you can carry and my eternal gratitude. Take a fourth of the cattle. Reward each of those in your service with one and keep the rest to enrich Connacht.”

Thunder raged on outside the castle walls, but it was the silence of the king before her that unnerved Arturia to a ridiculous extent. For while neither were as talkative as her remaining nephew, the quiet had never been quite so tense.

“The hell?” Cú finally asked, glaring at the Pendragon ring with disgust instead of honor. “You’d have me run? Do ya think me a coward—”

“—I think you are a king that should not die for the flag of a kingdom that is not his,” she cut him off, grasping his hand before he could tear her father’s ring off. “You asked for an order. This is it.”

Cú Chulainn’s claws dug into the collar of her cloak, as he pulled her to his face, a menacing look upon his countenance.

“An order?” he grunted harshly, “Or a feeble attempt at driving me away before I can leave you?”

Arturia’s struggles suddenly ceased, her limbs going limp before the foreign king finally let go of her clothes. The chairs screeched as each ruler fell back onto them, the older one far more irate than the younger.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Cú murmured, his voice soft as his fist thudded onto the circular table. “Ya’ve been an absolute tool since that depressing redhead turned in his rank, and some thoughtless fools followed. Then ya let Lancelot leave, don’t even bloody try to tell me he got away.”

Arturia turned her head, hiding her eyes behind her hay-colored hair. It mattered not how her charisma could sway crowds, her tongue knew not how to lie. Green eyes searched the empty room, counting the few chairs that would be occupied tomorrow. Her sister’s remaining sons’, Bedivere’s and...oh, how very few.

Arturia rested her hand on his fist, urging him to keep the heirloom as proof of the great service he gave Camelot.

“Go home, Cú. I cannot...I cannot lose you, too.” the British king sighed, getting used to the chill of solitude. She’d always known that a life as king was a life alone. At least with Cú, she could choose the day he left, instead of spending her time counting the days till he made his exit, just like her knights, her wizard, her brother.

“Don’t ask something so fucking stupid then go looking so damn pitiful,” he responded, flipping their hands and dragging her into his space till her lips touched his.

There was a reason Cú had stayed, pawning off Connacht to someone else that deserved it more and joining Camelot’s court instead. Not only had Arturia broken the geis that kept him tied to Medb, but she also gave him purpose.

Cú never spoke of it, but he remembered their first meeting like it was yesterday.

It was on the battlefield, back when he was still bound by geis to serve another mistress. Medb, the sly vixen, had tricked him into her service, forcing him into the frontlines till he’d slain every single one of his former comrades.

Bathed in the blood of his friends, the red clouding his vision, the man who was once Ulster’s proudest warrior was no more. His valiant face was replaced by a monstrous visage, his armaments were stained black. Upon his head sat a crown of thorns, forced onto his head by a queen who knew nothing but chaos.

Before long, the name he was proud to take up had been given new meaning. He was no longer Ulster’s guard dog, but Medb’s rabid hound, who sunk his teeth into anything and everything that so much as irked the devilish queen. Cú Alter, she called him, now that she’d bent him to her tastes. Cú Alter, a fitting name to a warrior forced to tarnish his own title.

As the bodies piled up around him, no rhyme nor reason for their slaughter, Cú began to see himself in a darker light, grasping at straws for some sort of purpose behind all the mindless killing.

He must have been a monster. A monster that massacred all that stood in his way regardless of honor and glory. Yes, that must have been it, he convinced himself, finally submitting to the dark cage that his hated loathsome queen had put him under.

As the black chains dragged him deeper and deeper into his own personal hell, he took up his spear once again. It lashed out whenever he touched it, staining itself dark till the vibrant red he used to wield was nowhere to be found. Once more, to the battlefield, said Medb. Once more, he tore across it with a godlike ease.

Then suddenly the cursed spear collided with its match, a sword of shining light that glowed as bright as its wielder. He remembered the moment so clearly, his breath hitching at his throat as his strikes were pushed back, the wind pressure whipping his hood out of his face. His heart pounded with adrenaline as his gaze fell down to his opponent: a tiny little thing, so small they should have fallen to his last strike, but there they still stood, defiant green eyes staring up at him with no fear.

Rage overtook his figure, fueling his strikes as he tried to cast the small warrior back, but all his efforts were met with equal force.

“My name is Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot.” a small voice, too fragile to have been a man’s, rung out across the battlefield. Spear met sword once again, pausing in their dance.

“Your name, knight.”

Even though he stayed on his feet, it was like the king had pulled the rug from under him. Their eyes locked once more, and he saw himself within the green irises, staring mouth agape at his opponent.

His name? His name? How long had it been since he’d been asked for his name? How many foes had he slain since then? How many nameless faces had he sent to the grave? How could this person, this puny king, take one look at his monstrous form and face him like a knight regardless?

“Cú Chulainn,” came his raspy voice, which too often had been used to roar like a beast. It felt foreign on his lips, which had ‘til then spoke nothing but bitter resentment.

That day, Arturia saw more than the monster. More than the weapon he’d disillusioned himself into being. Cú followed the king after Medb’s defeat, intending to find some proof that it was all a fluke, but it never happened. Arturia never treated him or her knights like a weapon or a tool. Arturia treated him like an equal.

And now, years spent the line, she was robbing him of that feeling, sending him away with glory and riches. If he were younger, he’d have jumped at the prize of heroic fame, but that was no longer what he wanted. What he wanted was to be right here, right next to the person that made him feel human again.

As their lips parted, Cú sent a glare through the empty seats of each of the deserters. He’d never understand how they could leave their king behind. He’d met his fair share of monarchs— hell, he technically was one—and even as belligerent a person he was, he wouldn’t wield his spear for any other.

“You will never lose me,” Cú declared in between rough kisses. “I will always be right here beside you. Understand?”

The Irishman returned her ring as she nodded, breathless, into his shoulder. She had one. Even if the world were to turn on Arturia, she still had one. One that would stay forever beside her.

Beside her...

Beyond Cú, the shorter king saw the backrest of Lancelot’s former seat, and finally, she knew just what to do to settle the people and follow her heart at the same time.

“Disregard my previous orders. Heed this instead…”

As the words left his king’s lips, Cú Chulainn proudly grinned.

[fattazzcat]

TFOTA Short Review (More like Rant so if you don't agree with my opinion then that is completely understandable ❤)

ACTUALLY, IT’S A RANT SO TURN BACK AROUND BECAUSE I DON’T LIKE THE SERIES 

INTENSE RANT REVIEW

I just want to say that this book series is...uncanny and idiosyncratic in both good and bad ways.

The book series was fine with its cool looking fae because I was tired of seeing those white/tan broody, cishet and pointy-eared people (Cardan is that but I'm just going to let his tail be the exception)

The worldbuilding is fine, the plot is fine, the plottwist was a really quick turn, the pacing is fine but the trope with the love interest is not fine. The damaged, abusive, bad boy Cardan Greenbriar gets on my nerves because I didn't like the way the fandom just excuses his bad actions towards Jude (since the first book) because of his dark history.

And I don't care what letters Cardan wanted to let her read but didn't. Cardan just didn't have enough book time to work with an emotional connection with Jude except just pure...lust. I apologize but that's how it just looks like, and besides them being enemies seemed like those elementary bullies we once had but way worse and I don't like to just excuse someone's inhumane behavior because of their abused past.

Jude Duarte is written well.

But Cardan not being in the books would've been way better because no offense but Holly Black made him look like a teen who has severe mommy issues and just takes out on this physically violent girl. The dagger scene in book one did nothing to me because the way they are enemies and the way they are attracted to one another is just weird and messed up. But of course, it's still enemies to lovers because hey! They tell each other they hate each other, he tells her that she's hideous and that hey! They want to kill each other for no valid reason! 😐

This book series is not for everyone but I just hope that this kind of book series won't repeat because I'm this 👌close to burning the Cruel Princes series I have when someone says they are goals because their romance turns into violence.

Like he humiliated Jude for a decade, constantly demeans her with insults, just stands and watches while his friends try to harm her and abuse her, shoves her, slaps her, pulls her hair, and threatens her but hey! "He's a prince and he's hot and had a dramatic past so let's just ignore that uwu 😚"

Jude says so many times that he hates him but this bitch will surely break down once he tells her that he finds her attractive. And that makes sense since he has mommy and daddy issues and this girl is just touch-deprived to the bone.

Then Cardan tells her that he hates her because he can't stop thinking about her and that disgusts him. In my POV that seems like a man that finds his attraction to her disgusting then becomes the love interest. I just hope that this romanticization of relationships from men whose so-called "love" is joined by cruelty, humiliation, and hate will end after 2021 and until the Universe dies. And in my POV of Taryn justifying his actions by saying that faeries love differently than mortals and that their love is a test blah blah blah blah shut up 😐

The worse than he treats the main character the more she's enthralled by him but of course, this behavior is overlooked because of his swagger, good looks, and the fact that lusts after her. Like Jude doesn't care about whatever horrible things or actions he does towards her but as long as he finds her attractive and handsome she has complete power over her.

Their relationship throughout the series is just abusive in my POV because cruelty does not equal secret affection. Like this is the kind of boy that our mothers told us that if he pulls our hair it means that they like us and when we grow up we find out that behavior is fucking immature.

Seriously guys? But it's fine because we'll never know what it's like to have someone loathe you before now tell you that they love you even when their actions don't match up with what they say. Sounds like an abusive relationship eh? But it's alright since he's hot and he's the love interest right?

Wrong, so feel free to continue making fan arts and fanfics because I'll just keep my opinions with because everyone seems to like it and I'll probably get death threats and countless 14-year-old stans explaining to me why their love team is the epitome of YA.

Jude deserves so much better because she is so ambitious and so brave she deserved to be courted by a man that is kind, loving, compassionate, supportrtive and one thing that Cardan lacks which is MATURITY.

Anyways I apologize for promising that this will be a short rant review so I'll stop now. But I hope you get it 💛 Because I'm sick of overhyped books romanticizing things that aren't love. After all, if a man hurts you intentionally, that is not love. Abuse and love cannot coexist. Jude and Cardan just follows the cycle of abuse and I hope I'm not being delusional to be the only one who doesn't like the book series and should just dissipate like the Mortal Instruments. But if you like the book series that's good and I respect your likes babe! Like if you're a stan and you're reading this I have no grudge towards you and ily 💜

Anyways buona giornata 💛💛💛

[stusbunker]

AGA: Word to the Wise

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Denny AU Series

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte, past Dean/Jo

Other characters: Sam, Bobby, Cas, Mick, Ash, Jo

Word Count: 3000 (whoa)

A/N: Sam gets on Dean’s nerves and Dean ends up taking a late night detour. Big talks ahead.

Special thanks to my beta @cracksinthewalls​ who puts up with my whiny ass. Also grateful for @there-must-be-a-lock​‘s insight.

The bowling league was in lean attendance due to a surprise snowstorm, but that didn’t keep Singers’ Slingers from mopping the floor with their competition. Dean ended on a spare in the last game, putting him just over his average for the night. State bowling wasn’t until spring, but if they kept up their momentum Dean was sure they could place well. And a weekend away would be a welcome break from his usual exhaustion. 

Dean still owed Mick a rematch from last year’s trip. Mick drank him under the table and Dean didn’t want to lose two years running, he had a reputation to uphold afterall. Bartending had cut into his training time, among other things.

Ash was the first one to bow out for the night, knowing his side towing business would be busy with vehicles in ditches for however long the storm lasted. Cas bummed a ride with Mick, since his car had never done well in this weather and he was still dragging his feet on upgrading. Dean knew he had been hinting at shopping around, but Dean wasn’t going to push the topic and get dragged into helping or finagling with the salesman for the guy. Cas could figure it out on his own, and Dean was finally in a place where he felt comfortable letting him. Huh.

Sam had been quiet all night, but Dean hadn’t mentioned it, attributing the sour mood to post-break up blues. They bought Bobby his weekly drink, “team dues” as he called it and settled in along the bar. 

Dean kept the conversation going, trying to keep the mood light, but Bobby was too tired to ham it up and Sam was not amused by his brother’s antics. Once Bobby polished off his last beer and headed home to Ellen, Dean was rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Fine, you know what, I’ll reel it in, don’t want to interrupt your sulking,” Dean muttered after another joke fell flat. Sam winced at Dean’s jab, which Dean instantly regretted. Though it did seem to shake Sam out of his funk, if minutely.

“So, tell me about Benny,” Sam brought up with elephantine grace.

Dean stared at Sam like he proclaimed he was quitting the law firm and joining the circus, coulrophobia and all. 

Sam huffed. “What?”

“Nice segue there, counselor,” Dean grumbled. “What about him? Hmm, you want a new bowling bag? Because that was already on my list for you for Christmas.”

“Dude, you don’t have to do that. I mean, that’d be great, but no, I was kind of wondering what your deal was? Like do you hang out a lot?” Sam started fishing.

“Yeah, totally, everynight,” Dean deadpanned. “I mean I only work two jobs when I’m not moving your sorry ass back into Mom and Dad’s.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sam said, waiting to figure out where he was going with this line of questioning and just shot in the dark. 

“What I’m trying to say is, is this, like, a Cas thing?” Sam choked out, unable to put it any more delicately. 

Dean burned with shame as his hackles raised in defensiveness. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Sam cocked his head and pursed his lips, unamused and unimpressed. “You know what I mean, man. Don’t make me spell it out.”

Dean wouldn’t budge, he dropped his beer with a thud. “Well, you’re gonna have to, because I have no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about.”

“Dude!” Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“The fuck is your problem? You got something to say, just say it, Sam.” Dean fumed, daring him with a murderous glare. Sam inhaled pregnantly, face still inching towards bitch mode. Sam eyed the bartender who was trying not to listen and the late game bowlers who suddenly decided they could catch up lane side instead.

What Dean didn’t realize was that he needed Sam to say it. He yearned for it, for his truth to be spoken, and known without him having to say it himself.

“Look, I know this isn’t something we talk about. But, I just want to make sure you’re okay. Alright? In the beginning with Cas, it was like you were obsessed, man. And since he just always seemed to need something from you. I just want to make sure you’re not getting used, I guess,” Sam unraveled the heart of his concern without saying too much, which Dean was not expecting, at all.

Dumbfounded, Dean retreated, annoyance trumping any chance at relief. 

“I think I can handle myself, thanks,” Dean spat. Petulantly, he took a sip from his beer, the cold glass solid in his hand, giving him something to clutch or even throw, if it came down to it.

“I didn’t say---,” Sam broke off. “Fine! You know what? You’re on your own. Just remember that I should have listened to you about Ruby and now I’m paying the price for my own stubbornness.”

Sam stood and reached for his money clip, tossing an extra five on the bar for the dramatics. He gave Dean one last chance to come clean, to own up to what they weren’t saying. Dean stared straight ahead, eyes unfocusing on the liquor labels behind the bar as if Sam had already left. So he did, just as he came: pissed and questioning his brother’s motives.

    Dean didn’t go home after that. Instead he absently followed a plow down the main road until he happened upon a familiar turn off. Which he took slow and steady until it ended in a T. The little brick ranch at the end of the lane held a lot of memories. And it was more inviting than ever with its Christmas card perfection in the falling snow. Dean put the Impala in park and let the radio play, wishing he had a joint just for the sake of something to do. 

He wasn’t there ten minutes before his phone rang, which he answered without processing the caller ID.

“You gonna come in or you just gonna sit out there feeling sorry for yourself?” Jo’s voice sliced across the line.

“Didn’t know if you were still up,” Dean bullshitted.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say. Backdoor’s open,” her unimpressed reply. She hung up before Dean could make up an excuse to leave. He slouched out of the car and trudged down the long country driveway. As soon as he had stomped the snow off his boots, Jo welcomed him in with a firm hug and an appraising glint in her eye.

“Thanks, it’s a real mess out there,” Dean explained.

Jo just shook her head at him. “How’d ya bowl?”

“619 series, finished strong in the last few frames,” Dean answered. “Were you at your folks?”

“Nah, just know it’s Wednesday night, which means the boys were at the alley,” Jo smirked as she reached atop her fridge for the good stuff. 

She held up the whiskey in offering and Dean nodded, bending out of his coat. He slipped it over the back of a chair and settled in at the vintage kitchen table. She poured him a glass and watched as he inhaled the first round like he had been outside for hours and needed to fight off a much deeper chill.

“Well alright,” Jo resigned herself to playing shrink and poured Dean another drink. “So, what’s got you stuck in your head, hm?”

Dean weighed his head from side to side as he let the whiskey roll over his tongue. He never got far into a pouting session when Jo was around, but he also didn’t know which chamber of his heart he could stand to prop open for her inspection tonight.

“How’ve you been, Jo? You still schooling those truckers on taking care of their own rigs?” Dean sidestepped with ease.

“You know it,” Jo confirmed. “Not a day goes by that I don’t have to put another asshole in his place. Pays good, though.”

Jo had followed in Bobby’s footsteps and became a mechanic, but two Singers were already one too many for the shop and salvage yard. So she took her skills out to the interstate and made a name for herself as the only female diesel technician in four counties. Dean used to hate it when she would fix something faster than him, but it had been more than a decade since her skills had made him feel inferior. Dean knew Jo’d be his boss someday, but he wasn’t too worried about those far off futures; Bobby wouldn’t retire unless Ellen made him or killed him first.

“How’s Rufus holding up?” Jo teased, knowing her dad’s old friend was getting worse for the wear, much like John had.

“Stubborn, and as glib as ever. Good thing your dad rehired him, because he’s a bit too mouthy for most customers,” Dean admitted.

    Jo hummed with nostalgia. “I gotta swing by and bug you guys sometime, but it just keeps getting busier.”

    Dean sighed. “I hear that. What’s it been? Labor day? No. I haven’t even seen you since the Fourth. Christ!”

“Yeah, well, you’ll see me next week for Thanksgiving, don’t get too sentimental about it now,” Jo quipped. She took a short sip off the bottle as Dean swirled the last of his second helping.

“I’m seeing someone,” Dean staggered the words, like he wasn’t sure if their meanings and sounds fit together.

Jo sighed dramatically, “Finally, the truth is revealed! What’s up? She’s not pregnant, is she?”

“No.” Dean had to bite back his guffaw. “Definitely not.”

“Okay, then why the sad face? Not pulling a Ruby on ya, I hope?” Jo tested the waters.

“No, it’s--uh--- it’s been good. Really good. I just, kind of need to make up my mind if I’m in it for the long haul. Ya know?” Dean clarified, relaxing with each little confession. 

“Uh-oh it’s getting serious,” Jo mock whispered.

Dean rolled his shoulders. “No, well, it could be. I don’t know.”

Jo giggled. “I can’t believe you! You’re fucking twitterpated, aren’t you?!”

“Jo, if you start making Thumper jokes, I’m shutting up right now,” Dean warned with a pointed finger. “Care to top me off while you’re at it?”

“Okay, okay, gosh.” Jo rolled her eyes dramatically as she poured him another drink before pointedly putting it back on the fridge. “But you’re in deep. You’re all blushy about it.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m ready to go big. It just means they’re willing to put up with me until I say the word,” Dean tried to downplay his feelings and Benny’s confession.

“So do it! Bust out the grand gestures already,” Jo encouraged.

Dean scoffed, “I’m not built for commitment, you know that!”

“Except you kinda are! You’ve changed, Dean,” Jo insisted, head hung to pour her honesty from her eyes. “I don’t know when it happened, but you’re not that reckless boy that I knew. You’ve always been a good guy, but now?---- Maybe it’s been since Sam came home, I don’t know. But somewhere along the way you grew up.---- It’s okay to let yourself want something more, you know.”

Dean grumbled and rolled his neck, breaking the eye contact. She always could do this to him, just like her mother, see straight through his every defense. “I always thought it’d be you, you know?”

Jo smiled without teeth. “Firsts can do that to people. But, we’re not those kids anymore, Dean. So, if you’re asking for my permission or seeking my approval---?”

Dean dropped his head to his hands, thick fingers poorly hiding him from Jo. “It’s a guy, Jo. I’m--- I don’t know--- Bi? I guess?”

“Dean?” Jo waited until he stopped being sheepish and looked at her, even if it was only out of the corner of one eye. “You’ve been head over heels for Cas for years. If you dare tell me this is about him, so help me, I will throw you out right now.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh ruefully at that and toss back what was left of his whiskey. “You saw that, huh?”

She didn’t answer, waiting for him to work through it on his own.

“It’s not Cas.” Dean smacked his lips and held up his glass for a refill. Jo stood and brought the bottle back to the table. Dean poured himself three fingers worth and pondered the sloshing liquid before he continued. “Your mom know?”

Jo licked her lips, cocked her head, and sighed.

Dean closed his eyes and asked, “Bobby? Fuck!--- my mom?!”

“No one has ever said it out loud, Dean. I don’t know who knows, honestly. But we’re family, that doesn’t change.” Jo grasped his wrist firmly, he held her hand to his and then she slapped her other one on top. Time stopped long enough for Dean to accept that his secret was finally out, but also that it was safe.

“I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you, of all people.” Dean thumbed her knuckles, staring into eyes he knew as well as his own.

“Really? Who else would you be talking to about it? Sam? Ash, maybe?” Jo giggled. “I’m honored, actually. It means you stopped hating me.”

Dean pulled his hands away and took another drink. “I never hated you.” 

“Okay, well, maybe it means you stopped hating yourself,” Jo corrected.

Dean’s brows crooked incredulously.

“Too much?” Jo asked apologetically.

Dean shook his head and sighed. “You are your mother’s daughter.”

“Now you’re the one being rude,” Jo muttered before taking a solid drink off the bottle this time.

Dean let himself relax, let the whiskey and conversation work into his muscles and set his worries aside. They talked like the old days and about the old days. Those in between years after high school and before anyone was ready to face responsibility. When half their friends went to college, they had just kept on working. After another hour, Jo leaned back in her chair and started scrutinizing him once again.

“You know how I know you’re happy with what’s his name?” Jo teased.

“Beh--- I didn’t tell you, fuck! Benny, his name is Benny. Goddamnit Joanna Beth,” Dean cursed through a chuckle; more details dragged out of him than he had planned on.

Jo cocked her head and considered the name.“Benny, right. You wanna know how I know?” Jo pushed.

“Fine, how?” Dean held up his hand, beckoning for her to hit him with her response.

“Because this is about the time of night you start giving me the lazy once over. But not tonight,” Jo proclaimed, chin out condescendingly. She had him, every few years they’d find themselves back in each other’s beds, for a night or a weekend and then they’d move on. He always thought of her as his home, his starting point. But maybe they weren’t the same thing at all.

“You still look good, Jo,” Dean replied, trying to save face.

“That’s not what I meant, Dean. Besides, I know!” Jo snarked, straightening her spine and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Dean couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore and it spilled out over a toothy grin, making Jo almost choke on her drink. God, Dean felt like anything was possible. That life was good. 

After the hysterics had calmed down, Dean exhaled. “Thanks, Jo. I needed this.”

“You sure did, nobody else was gonna hand you your ass so kindly,” Jo agreed, standing and taking the bottle and Dean’s glass with her to the counter that held the sink. He whined comically, but knew her timing was right. She leaned back and smirked.

Dean grew quiet and Jo waited to see if it was exhaustion, the alcohol or something else. She didn’t have long to prepare.

“How’m I gonna tell my dad?” Dean asked, the pain and panic pulling at his face until she saw the telltale tears well up.

“Fuck ‘im. I mean it, if your dad can’t get his head out of his ass to see how happy you are, he isn’t worth your time,” Jo said adamantly.

Dean let his thoughts roll to the side of his head and licked his lips, biting against the tremor. He quickly wiped away the tears that escaped and inhaled wet and ragged. Jo slipped to his side and ran her hand through his hair, letting his face fall against her chest as he breathed through the onslaught. Dean couldn’t help but think how motherly the affection felt.

She pulled back to look him over at arms’ length. 

“So what now? You want the couch? Or should I call you a ride? I’m sure Sam owes you one,” Jo asked, as no nonsense as ever.

“I’ll be fine,” Dean dismissed her concern, rubbing up his face to wipe off his nose.

“Well, you ain't driving.” Jo held up his keys. Dean blanched, feeling his pockets for them, fruitlessly. He stood to snatch them, but she had already skipped across the kitchen, too far to catch. “Nuh-uh, no way I’m letting you risk your baby. Or your thick skull in this weather.”

 Dean put his hands on his hips, and blinked through the dizziness. He realized he hadn’t stood in a few hours. “Sam.”

“What’s that?” Jo prodded mischievously, ear leaning in as if she couldn’t hear him.

“Very funny. Call Sam, will ya?” Dean rolled his eyes as she scrolled through her contacts, murmuring the names under her breath. His keys were raised in victory, as if he couldn’t reach them above her head. He could have snagged them in an instant, if he wanted to.

 While Jo woke Sam, Dean checked his own phone. Ignoring some texts from his mom and Cas, he selected the conversation with Benny. There were no new messages since that morning. Dean hesitated before relocking his screen.

“Sam’ll be here in twenty. You want something to eat? I’ve got chips.” Jo offered, opening the cupboard.

Tagging: @flamencodiva​ @dolphincliffs​ @dontshootmespence​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​ @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja​ @defenderrosetyler​ @ericaprice2008  @crashdevlin​  @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @there-must-be-a-lock @tatted-trina6​ @cracksinthewalls​ @atc74​​

Series Masterlist

SPN Masterlist

Tell me what you thought?

Part 10: Spit it Out

[bdamanlover4ever]

Okay but...BakuDeku fluffy fanfic idea, where Katsuki has always been struggling in school and Izuku one day picks up on it. 😶It would be told in parts because Izuku picks up on it over time, it’s probably set between the end of season 3 and start of season 4?

~

Part 1

“I hope you all are paying attention.” Mr. Aizawa stopped writing on the board. “I’m only going to say this once.” He tapped the chalk over the word: report. “Your midterm report should be over how your favorite hero operates and how you can learn from their actions to create your own rescue style.”

Izuku stopped tapping his pencil against his notebook. His brain slowly drifting back to reality—the classroom, his desk, his backpack. He had been already thinking of a way to prove his fighting style. Maybe if he rewatched a few of All Might’s old rescue scenes.

“Also I must stress this will be a book report.” Mr. Aizawa said.

The class erupted in a few groans and complaints.

“Don’t act like that. You’re all very capable of writing an four page report. If you’re not capable then you’ll wish you were by the time I finish calling home.”

Denki raised his hand. “Um, so...can the paper be double space?”

“Double spaced, 12 sized front.”

Izuku scribbled a few ideas down. He’d go by the library to check out some books. His pencil stopped moving to the sound of Katsuki cursing under his breath.

“Damn it.” Katsuki said.

Izuku couldn’t help but turn towards his direction. As always there were no notebooks or pencils on Katsuki’s desk. An empty space. Not even a textbook open to the correct page.

Lazy—as some people would call it.

But it wasn’t like Katsuki wasn’t smart. He somehow managed to understand everything without taking notes.

A part of Izuku admired that.

“I already turned off my recording.” Katsuki pulled his phone from his pocket and slipped it between his legs as if to hide it from the teacher.

“This is a very important report. It will be a midterm grade that will make or break some of you.” Mr. Aizawa placed down the chalk.

“Can we really call this hero work?” Mina asked.

“Everything is hero work. Even the books.”

Izuku found himself nodding. There were multiple things that went into being a good hero. Charging in blindly without a strategy might let you get lucky and save a few people due to a stroke of luck, but a good hero always has a way to save everyone. He wrote in big letters: PLANNING.

“What’s so interesting?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku blinked.

“Ya nodding your head over there so much.”

“I’m just brainstorming over my report.”

“Why do you keep glancing in my direction, then?”

“I ju-just zone out.” Izuku didn’t think that Kacchan ever noticed him in class. How long had Kacchan been watching him? He took an uneasy breath. Now that he knew Kacchan was watching, he could feel it. Just focus back on the teacher. Don’t worry about him. Don’t—

“Ignoring me?” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “What a joke.”

“Again some of you SHOULD be taking this seriously.” Mr. Aizawa glanced over in Izuku and Katsuki’s direction.

Izuku lowered his head and picked up his pencil to scribble down some more ideas. Plan? Execution? Dealing with a hostage situation. Those were good places to start.

Part 2

The library was old in comparison to the rest of the city. Sure, the old wooden and brass door had been replaced by automatic doors, and all the renovations had fixed up the inside, but the old smell never left. Maybe it was the smell of books? The books in this library dated back decades.

Izuku walked past the shelves, each one filled with knowledge and epic battles that transcended through time. The old walls were brightened with murals of heroes and stained glass windows give it an old-fashioned elegance. He hugged his book close to his chest, eyes focused on the backpack hanging off the back of the seat.

“Isn’t that like a 6th grade level book?”

“Shut up, man. No, it’s not.”

Izuku overheard two familiar voices whispering among themselves—Kirishima and Katsuki. He figured they must be trying to choose a book to write their report on as well. He sat down at the table, placing his newly discovered book next to two others and his notebook. He opened up the book to a chapter titled: How to Identify: High Priority Rescues in a Hostage situation.

The topic wasn’t one he particularly agreed with. He felt like everyone deserved to be saved, but if there was a high risk situation where not everyone could be…

“It is. Hey, isn’t that Izuku?”

Izuku looked up to see Kirishima waving at him. He waved back.

“Look at this.” Kirishima ripped a book from the shelf and pointed at it. He walked over to Izuku’s table.

“Don’t tell h—“ Katsuki got hushed by an angry passerby. He grit his teeth, his right hand clenched in a fist.

Izuku read the book title, The Adventures Of All Might And Friends.

“Check it. There are like pictures on almost every page.” Kirmisha flipped through the book. “Tell him there is no way he can write a good book report with this.”

“Shut your shitty mouth!” Katsuki snatched the book back and slammed it closed. “I do whatever the fuck I want and my grade is going to be good as fuck!” He tucked the book under his right arm as if to hide the childish cover.

The librarian looked at the three of them harshly.

“Sorry.” Izuku whispered.

“Mr. Aizawa said the report had to be 4 pages. I’m not trying to piss you off, just chill and listen for a second.” Kirishima lowered his voice. “Look at Izuku’s book. It is about 300 pages and—“

“Deku is the last person I want to look to for anything.” Katsuki put his hand on Izuku’s face to push him to the side. “I’ll never be that desperate.” He roughly bumped past Kirishima.

Izuku lifted his hand from holding his place in the book.

“You’re both doing All Might.” Kirishima must have noticed the books on his table. “You should get together and swap notes or something.”

Izuku sighed. It would be nice if he could collaborate with Kacchan. If Kacchan wasn’t always being…”It’s a nice thought I guess.” Even though it was true, Kacchan would get nowhere using a childish picture book. He wasn’t even sure anything in that book was researchable.

“You have his number, right?” Kirishima asked.

“No.” Izuku said. Why would he have Kacchan’s number? They might have been childhood friends but never had they once exchanged contact info.

“I’ll give it to you.” Kirishima pulled out his cellphone. “Text him. You always have this weird effect that pushes Katsuki to do his best.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. Ah, maybe I used the wrong word. It’s not weird. It’s a good thing actually. Katsuki always gets hyped up about you.”

“Hyped up or aggressive?” Izuku pulled out his phone. He didn’t think Kacchan thought that hard about their interactions.

“That’s just his way of respect.” Kirishima grinned.

Izuku would really like to believe that.

Part 3

The walls in the dorm were paper thin. Everyone could hear everything. Izuku could constantly hear the people above him and below him. Either they were goofing off or talking loudly, their voices carried. It was as the saying goes, the walls have ears.

Izuku didn’t try to overhear gossip, but it happened sometimes. Even now, when he was walking through the common area. He heard some yelling and shouting. It encouraged his feet to move a bit faster. Today had been a long day, he spent most of it trying to write the first two pages of his report. Not how he wanted to spend his Saturday. He turned the corner to reach his dorm room. The sound of footsteps closed in on him. Then a sharp pain forced his shoulders back as the weight on his back shifted. One second he was facing the door, the next he was staring into enraged red eyes.

“Kacchan?” Izuku croaked.

Everything had happened so suddenly, he thought a villain had broken in and attacked.

“They’re talking shit about me, aren’t they?” Katsuki shoved the paper in Izuku’s face.

“Eh?” Izuku jerked his head back.

“Answer the question, shitty nerd!”

“I wasn’t really focused on...on...hear them. Why are you asking me?”

“Because they were laughing at this. I’m not a fucking dumb ass, I can tell that’s a poorly drawn picture of me.” Katsuki pointed at the stick figure with explosions around them.

“Oh—oh…okay?” Izuku took the paper. He still didn’t understand what Katsuki wanted from him. Some kind of confirmation? The wrinkled paper had a stick figure and the words: Kiss Ass.

Katsuki wrinkled his brow. His mouth made a tutting sound as if dissatisfied, “You’re such a freaking, Deku.”

His eyes shifted, as if scanning over the paper. “This is all shitty hairs fault. He was so loud in that library everyone probably knows…”

Izuku held the paper out.

“Don’t give me that garbage back! What the hell am I going to do with it?”

“Report it.”

“So they did write some mean shit about me?” Katsuki created a few explosions in his palms. His already pissed expression seemed to darken. “I’m going to kill them!” He released his iron grip on Izuku’s shoulder and grabbed the paper.

Izuku felt his heart race as Katsuki turned his back on him. Had Kacchan come to him because he was the only person in their class dorms? No. He was sure he heard Denki in here. Did that mean…

“Kacchan!”

“What?” Katsuki paused. He didn’t face Izuku or make eye contact. His one word response was blunt and straightforward.

It was so blunt it made Izuku feel a bit stupid.

He blinked twice. Why had he actually tried to say anything?

“I don’t like my time being wasted, nerd.”

“Then you could have just kept walking and ignored me, but you didn’t!” Izuku said.

Katsuki slowly turned his head to face him. “Guess I’m stupid for always making time for you.”

Izuku felt like he’d gotten punched in his chest. The oxygen fled his lungs and he couldn’t breathe for a few seconds.

“Be careful.” Katsuki said. It looked like a smug smirk tugged on the corner of his lips. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked forward. “About wasting my time on nonsense.”

Part 4

The bell for the end of the school day couldn’t have come sooner. Izuku closed his notebook and began to gather his things. He could hear the chatter among his classmates as they left out the door. Most of them were talking about the latest tv shows or gossip. It was a good change of pace compared to all the hectic things happening.

Uraraka’s skirt brushed against his desk, “Hey, Izuku. How’s your report doing?”

“It’s going.” Izuku began putting his stuff in his backpack. “How about you?”

“I’m doing mine over Mt Lady.” Uraraka fumbled with her backpack straps. “Hard to find many articles about her, rescue style though.”

“Yeah. I feel like Mr. Aizawa and the other teachers really wanted to give us a challenge. I went to the library a few days ago and got some books.”

“You’re doing All Might?”

“How’d you know?”

“As if you’d choose anyone else!” Uraraka laughed.

“Haha.” Izuku nervously tapped at his chin. Was he really that obvious? If so does that mean Kacchan had noticed? The more he considered what happened yesterday, the more he thought about what he really wanted to ask Kacchan about. He wanted to know how Kacchan’s report was going. He shifted his eyes over to see Katsuki. Katsuki had his book opened, eyes glued to the page with his brow furrowed.

“There’s a reason why they’re making it so difficult, ya know.” Uraraka leaned in closer to him and mouthed, “To weed out the posers.”

“A rumor started by Stain’s sympathizers?” Izuku raised a brow. Even though they fought Stain a year ago, his ideology hadn’t died out. There were still many people who seemed ready to follow his words from his grave.

“Actually it was more so around the sports festival when everyone was watching. But it came up again after the attack during our summer training.” Uraraka pulled out her phone and opened social media. She showed him a few angry posts and discussion boards all about U.A.

Someone or a group of people out to tarnish U.A’s good name? It sounded like a rumor started by villains. But then again there were some salty students who got rejected and had to choose a different school. Rumors were easy to grow and hard to stomp out.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that a person can score low on the written and multiple choice part of the entrance exam but still get into U.A?” Uraraka asked.

“Well I suppose that’s what makes it fair. A combination of fighting and knowledge.” Izuku never really thought about it. He had been too focused on meeting the requirements. That should be all that mattered. A passing grade no matter what.

“I suppose, but a bunch of other kids who got rejected were pretty pissed. I heard they started spreading rumors…” Uraraka dropped her voice, “Saying they sucked up to the teachers before time.”

Izuku didn’t know why but he suddenly got reminded of the note from yesterday. The poorly scribbled words written with malice and directed at… His eyes shifted back to a truffle of blond hair.

Katsuki was still sitting at his desk. A cheek in his palm and the book from the library resting next to his elbow. He hadn’t flipped from the same page he’d been staring at for minutes.

“If anything I don’t think it should matter, since if you can’t keep your grades up you get kicked out of school.” Uraraka said.

“Kicked out? U.A. does that?”

“It still operates like a regular high school.”

Is that why Katsuki was…? Izuku pulled out his phone. No. Texting him now would do no good. He walked past Katsuki’s desk, talking loudly. “I guess, whoever those people are will have to work really hard to prove them wrong!”

Katsuki lifted his head. His tired eyes met with Izuku’s. No words were said, but his blank expression was self-explanatory.

Part 5

Texting would be the true decision factor if Izuku’s guess was true. It would be a risk, sure. There was no guarantee that Katsuki would even respond or that he could respond.

Izuku rested his head against his pillow, the glow of his phone screen made his eyes water slightly as he typed away.

Izuku: Hi Kacchan (^*^)/ It’s Izuku

He double checked the time stamp. No read receipt just delivered.

Welp. Not like him and Kacchan have been close. Sure once upon time they were going to be the best...but now… Sometimes Izuku felt like there was a lot of animosity between them. A part of him wished, Katsuki would view him the same way he did when they were younger. Maybe that was the ignorantly blissful side that believed getting a quirk would let him earn Katsuki’s respect. Hmm... Kirishima was probably closer to Katsuki than he would probably ever be.

That fact made Izuku feel funny. It made his head hurt. It made his heart race. It made his stomach fill with butterflies.

He didn’t know how to act around Kacchan.

He didn’t know what to say around Kacchan.

After their team up on the final last year, things seemed good. Summer had come and gone. But not without leaving a few mental scars after their fight.

No wonder Katsuki was doing his report on All Might. His feelings. His way of taking responsibility for...

Maybe no response was for the best. He locked his phone and set it on his nightstand.

Vrr

His phone?

Vrrrrrr

Izuku grabbed his phone off the nightstand.

Kacchan: Who?

Kacchan: Oh wait.

Kacchan: Don’t text my phone with that Izuku crap, Deku.

Izuku: Deku is mah hero name

A response came quicker this time,

Kacchan: that’s the damn name I gave you don’t forget it.

For some reason, Izuku felt his face heat up.

Kacchan: How did you get my number?

Izuku: Kirishima

Kacchan: Damn him.

Izuku found it strange how proper Katsuki typed. He even added PERIODS. But if Katsuki could type, maybe his assumption had been…

Izuku: How ur report

Kacchan: That’s what he wanted you to ask me?

Izuku kind of wanted to say that he personally wanted to know. Kacchan seemed to withdraw himself from talking a lot about All Might after their fight.

Izuku: We r doing All Might! share ideas??????

Kacchan: Never figured you were a cheater.

He was a WHAT?

Kacchan: Delete my number.

Izuku had no clue what just happened. He shaky typed: We don’t need to fight, before he could press send another message came.

Kacchan: Didn’t I tell you not to pity me?

Izuku quickly back spaced his message. He wrote a new one: Sharing ideas is wat friends do

Kacchan: You think we’re friends?

Ouch. Izuku didn’t know how to respond.

Kacchan: I can’t be friends with you.

Izuku: WHY

Kacchan: You know.😈

That’s right…Kacchan probably hated him. He was dumb to think that fight was any type of heart to heart.

Izuku: srry

He shouldn’t tell how he was worried. Kacchan would hate the idea of that. Kacchan hated the idea of weakness.

Izuku: good night

He was surprised to see, Kacchan is typing…

Kacchan: Did I give you permission to sleep, nerd?

Kacchan: WAKE UP! I know there is a reason you texted me. You were looking at me strange.

Izuku: ……..?

Kacchan: Don’t make me walk over and pound on your door in the middle of the night.

Izuku: Huh?

Kacchan: You know I’m reckless enough to do it.

They were already on shaky terms with the teachers after their fight. The last thing Izuku wanted was more trouble.

Kacchan: Walking over.

Izuku: Wat do u wanna know?🥺🥺🥺

Kacchan: I should be asking you that.

A few minutes ticked by. No follow up question.

Izuku: How can you type?

A knock came at his room door.

“DEKU!!!!” Katsuki shouted.

Izuku jumped out of bed. Sometimes he questioned Kacchan’s sanity. He cracked open the room door, light spilled into his bedroom over his All Might figures and posters.

“You tell anyone, you’re fucking dead.” Katsuki hissed.

Izuku rubbed the tears forming in the corner of his eyes and yawned. What was Katsuki talking about?

“Are you going to play dumb?” Katsuki asked.

“I...uhh, did you see my text or—“

Katsuki pushed Izuku backwards into the dark room. He felt himself almost trip over his feet. A strong hand over his face forced him into submission as the sound of a click signalled the room door locking.

“Did...did...did you just lock me in my own room?” Izuku choked over his own words. He felt his stomach flip flop as the scent of Katsuki’s cologne filled his nostrils.

“Don’t play with me, Deku. You know not to fucking play with me.” Katsuki’s voice dipped into a growl.

Izuku felt Kastuki’s sweaty palms move from his face to comb through his curly green hair. He felt his breath hitch, “What are you so paranoid about?” He couldn’t see Katsuki’s face but he sensed his reaction—anger.

“You...do you have to be such a smartass all the time? You’re so damn smart! You look at me. You see me. You know me. You’ve known me longer than anyone so...Just! Just shut up about it!”

“I’m not talking about any—Mmm!”

Hot lips pressed against his own.

Was Kacchan kissing him?

Izuku’s lips moved to kiss Katsuki back. It was only for a few seconds, sharing the same breath with each other. He shifted upwards on his toes, as Katsuki held his head in place. So warm. So soft. Gentle? The kiss was so light.

Okay. Don’t freak out.

“You tell anyone my secret and I’ll tell yours.” Katsuki whispered.

Okay. Now freak out.

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Izuku shouted. He opened his mouth to say more but Katsuki’s finger pressed against his lips.

“I’ll tell everyone you’re my boyfriend.” Katsuki said.

“You’re the one who kissed me?” Izuku couldn’t speak above a whisper. Someone would hear. Someone would get suspicious. Someone…

“And I’ll do it again.” Katsuki didn’t say it like a threat. It was said like a promise. He lowered his hand from Izuku’s head. “I’ll kiss you stupid.”

Izuku was so thankful the lights were off. He could feel himself blushing. His heart felt ready to burst. Katsuki couldn’t be his friend but his boyfriend?! What exactly did Katsuki think he…

“Recordings. Picture books. Speech to text.” Katsuki unlocked his phone with a pattern. A comic book of All Might pulled up in a web browser. “I doubt this counts as a reliable source.”

Izuku’s eyes widened slightly. But that meant… How had Kacchan...just using those same tools?

“Simple repetition really helps. Plus the world is filled with shapes and pictures. Ramen shops usually have a sign with a bowl of noodles next to them. Bus stops are round signs and have a picture of a bus.” Katsuki tapped the search bar and automatically the microphone icon appeared. “I never had a need to seriously learn beyond writing my name for a while.”

“I’ve seen you write before.”

“I didn’t say I was dumb. I learn words from tv sometimes.”

Considering how Katsuki’s first choice of a hero name was Lord Explosion Murder, Izuku could believe half of Katsuki’s vocab came from tv.

“When texting, I have my phone programmed to read every message I receive from people outloud.”

Something about the tone Katsuki spoke in, made Izuku’s heart clench. The overconfidence was gone. An unrecognizable tone had replaced it. Not emptiness or disappointment, no sadness or regret. Katsuki stated everything as it was—fact.

“My mom yelled at my teachers to pass me along.” Katsuki sighed. “Because I’d be damned if I ever fell further behind you.”

Izuku noticed the book on his nightstand. A book filled of knowledge about rescues in high risk situations. In a way Kacchan was at high risk of failing. Poor Kacchan held hostage by his stubborn ideals. But Kacchan wasn’t so arrogant not to know—that he was behind him...FAR behind him.

“You want me to teach you?” Izuku knew he couldn’t save everyone. There were probably a bunch more people who’d been pushed along through school. But if he could just help Kacchan.

“I don’t want you to do anything. This isn’t a cry for help so don’t twist things up in the one track mind of yours.” Katsuki lowered his phone. “If you tell anyone I can’t read pass a 3rd grade level, you know.” He leaned in closer to Izuku till their lips brushed. “What everyone will learn.”

Izuku grabbed onto Katsuki’s shirt before he pulled back. “Is this why you can’t be friends with me?” He felt Katsuki try to yank away but he held tighter. “Cause you're embarrassed? I don’t care about that stuff.”

“No. I just can’t view you as a friend. Not after everything before and this. Getting kidnapped gave me time to rethink my life.”

“You’re blackmailing me out of your life?”

“Only if you can't keep your mouth shut.” Katsuki used his knuckles to tilt Izuku’s head up. He seemed to be inspecting those pink lips he kissed. “Think of it as a test of loyalty. It’s only fair I know a secret about you in exchange for one of mine.”

Izuku released his hold on Katsuki’s shirt. He didn’t try to know Kacchan’s secret! It was just a guess. Kacchan had stormed in his dorm room, kissed him, then twisted all the events to make it sound like a damn scandal.

“Not even Kirishma knows, count yourself lucky.” Katsuki walked over and unlocked the door. He slipped out into the hallway and closed the door back much quieter than how he had originally entered.

Izuku was left alone in the darkness. The only sound he could focus on was his heart as his fingers ran over his lips. Kacchan. Was it normal for people to trade secrets like that? Did a kiss seal the deal or...did he kiss him just to tease? He laid back on his bed, trying to ignore the confusion fluttering around in his stomach.

~

Just an idea.

Yes BONUS—Katsuki being stubborn about confessing his feelings so acts in the most annoying way to just get under Izuku’s skin. Izuku still tries to teach him how to read properly, while dealing with his newly discovered crush on Katsuki. Imagine how they could confess!?

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar (Ch. 10)

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic

First two chapters

Previous (Ch.9)

Chapter 10: Indebted

“You told Knuckles, right?” Amy nervously held her communicator at eye level as she adjusted her scarf in the camera.

“I told you I did,” Tails responded. He was making the final preparations to his plane for takeoff. “Can you just come over already?”

Amy groaned. “I don’t want a repeat of last time!”

“Knuckles isn’t going to kill Metal.”

“Right…” she looked over to Metal, who was shifting his weight between feet impatiently. His jacket was draped over one arm.

“Just fly over. I’m almost ready for takeoff.”

“Are you sure you can fly with one hand?”

He shrugged. “Probably.”

It did little to ease her stress. “Okay, we’ll be there in a few.” Tails gave her a thumbs up before disconnecting, leaving Amy to look at her own troubled reflection in the dark screen. She sighed deeply, worried for what was to come. “Are you ready, Metal?” 

Sensing her distress, he stopped his fidgeting to give a nod. They would be flying to Angel Island that morning to meet with Amy’s friends- no, her team. Metal had already met most of them individually, but as a team, they had been his enemies for nearly a decade. It would be tense. First, however, they had to get Tails’ lab so she could board his plane.

Amy returned the nod and the pair got ready to take off outside. “I’ll take that for you.” She reached out for Metal’s jacket. “So it doesn’t wrinkle.” He handed it to her to fold neatly, though she held it so tightly that it creased under her anxious grasp anyway. 

Metal picked her up delicately. Since their encounter with Sonic, he treated her with kid gloves, afraid of causing another injury. Amy had noticed this and was tactfully avoiding bringing it up, even going as far as to cover her bandaged arm whenever they were together. It was sweet that he was being considerate, but his gingerly grip on her made her more nervous than a silly cut on her arm. “Metal, do you think you could hold me tighter?” Color rushed into her cheeks when she realized how forward it sounded. “So I don’t fall, I mean! Oh, not that I think you’ll drop me-” Take your foot out of your mouth, she scolded herself.

The same nervous excitement from a day earlier hit him and he stiffened suddenly. She was right, the fragility with which he was holding her could cause him to lose his grip if he wasn’t careful. Metal’s arms tightened around Amy as she settled into him, her red face buried in his jacket. She looked oddly… endearing that way- what a clumsy feeling.

“I’m ready when you are,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the fabric.

They propelled into the sky at a much slower pace than usual. Amy peeked out from her satiny hiding place when she noticed. They were running late as it was. “Um, you can go a little faster. I’ll be okay,” she assured. Metal obliged, though she was well aware that they still weren’t moving as quickly as they could. Luckily, their destination wasn’t far.

Tails was already hurrying Amy along the moment they landed on the runway. “Come on, you know how Knuckles gets,” he insisted. 

“Okay!” she huffed, climbing into the back seat of the small plane. Amy was still scrambling to get her goggles on as the engine started.

“Ready for takeoff. Try to keep up, Metal,” Tails grinned.

“Tails!” Amy snapped before Metal could so much as make a noise.

He snickered as the plane accelerated forward and lifted off the end of the runway, Metal following closely. He hovered near Amy’s seat as they flew, though she nervously looked straight ahead for most of the flight. As they approached their floating destination, Tails pointed out the landing site- a spacious clearing at the edge of a dense forest. Metal cut ahead of them, doing a flashy set of loops in the air before spiraling to the ground and looking back up at Tails expectantly. 

“Psh. Show-off.” Tails remarked. “Think we can beat that?”

“No!” Amy felt sick enough as it was. Tails seemed to be enjoying himself though, laughing in response.

Once on the ground, Amy unbuckled herself and exited hastily. The tall plane was harder to jump out of than it was to climb into, but she’d done it dozens of times- not that knowing this would have stopped Metal from hurrying over to offer her a hand. 

“See?” Tails said smugly. “Told ya I could fly with just one hand.”

Amy rolled her eyes at Tails as Metal helped her down. “Thanks. Here,” she offered Metal his jacket and smoothed down her hair and scarf while he slipped it on. She moved on to smoothing out the wrinkles in the satin across his shoulders and adjusted the collar, looking Metal up and down. “There. I think you look pretty friendly.” Taking each of his hands in hers, her brow curled anxiously. “Remember what we talked about, ‘kay?”

Metal had spent much of the morning listening to Amy as she got ready, rambling the team dynamics and how their meetings usually went. “We work with some other people, but usually discuss things between ourselves before getting anyone else involved,” she’d told him. “So it’s kind of a big deal that you’re coming. Thanks for agreeing to it.” Then she’d flashed her usual sweet grin, though she let out a sigh at the same time. “So, just sit and listen, and get to know everyone! I really think you can get along well.” Metal wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

Just having someone new at the table might cause tension, but he had a feeling that who that someone was would factor into the strain more than anything. He couldn’t remember any of their encounters or battles- but they could. What’s more, the threat they were discussing was Metal’s very creator; he didn’t know how he would feel or if he’d agree to help if asked. There were too many unanswered questions and he knew he couldn’t follow Amy around forever; at some point he would have to learn about his old life. It was only fair to be informed about how it could affect the people that showed him kindness. How it could affect her. 

Now they were minutes away from this meeting, the importance of which couldn’t be overstated for Amy. She wouldn’t say it directly, but she was anxiously putting her faith in Metal, hoping he wouldn’t have another outburst akin to their encounter with Sonic. After recalling how they’d all met, his actions, though well-meaning, were admittedly threatening. He would have to show more restraint.

“Oh! Here,” Amy fished a little notebook and pen from her coat pocket. “In case you need it. Sorry, the whiteboard was a little cumbersome for the flight.” Metal took them with a nod, tucking them away in his jacket. 

A gust of wind blew Amy’s hair over her face and caused her scarf to whip around uncontrollably. Sonic had rushed in, skidding to a halt just past the trio. “Hey! What took ya so long?” 

“I just fixed this,” Amy groaned, combing down her quills. Tails made his way over to greet Sonic as she readjusted her scarf for the third time.

“Don’t worry, Ames, it’s just us.” Sonic turned his attention to Metal momentarily. “And you, I guess. Hey, isn’t that Amy’s jacket?”

Metal crossed his arms and chimed indignantly. “It’s, uh, his now,” she replied sheepishly.

“Oh-kay. Hey, Tails, why don’t you take Metal and go ahead. I wanna catch up with Amy real quick.”

The two hadn’t spoken since the incident. Neither of them wanted the meeting to be any more uncomfortable than necessary, and apologies were no doubt in order. “Do you mind, Metal?” she turned to him with her gentle request. He shrugged nonchalantly with a hand at his hip, doing a poor job at concealing his annoyance.

Tails beckoned to him. “Come on, it’s not far.” Metal joined the boy, following him on the path ahead. He took a quick look back at  the pair just in time to spot Sonic placing a hand on Amy’s shoulder.

“You alright, Amy?”

She nodded, her cheeks turning rosy. “Mhm. I’m sorry about the other day- I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that...”

“Come on, we both know I’m used to your temper by now,” he teased. “But, you know, sorry if I sounded  like I don’t trust you.”

“Do you, though?”

“Of course! But Metal Sonic- I mean, he just flew off with you- like before. I was worried, Ames.”

It was reassuring to hear him admit his concern. Amy understood that Sonic cared for her- but after all their years of friendship, she wondered if he’d ever feel any other way about her. When she recalled the hand she’d drawn at her reading so many years ago, Amy couldn’t help but ponder over her interpretation of it. Lately, it felt more and more like her crush would never be anything more than that. Still, hearing him admit any kind of affection for her made Amy melt. She met his eyes and smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, Sonic. I know you’re worried, but Metal’s been doing great. It sounds silly, but I think he was trying to protect me.”

“That so?” 

She shrugged. “Well, he didn’t do it for shock value.”

Sonic’s usual grin returned to his face. “Well, either way, I can’t be too worried; I’ve seen you knock him around pretty good since the first time he kidnapped you,” he snickered. 

Amy smiled along, though being reminded made her uncomfortable. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Look, I think what you’re doing is great. Just promise you’ll keep your guard up, alright?”

“Sure,” she agreed. Amy sincerely felt that she was safe with metal, but it wasn’t worth continuing the argument. She was sure that Sonic would see that soon enough.

“Anyway, we’re late. Let’s get going before Knuckles loses it.”

The two set off on a well-worn path through the thicket of trees that grew denser as they went. A rocky clearing led into a burrow, where they found the others waiting for them. A pile of pillows and cushions were laid out against one wall in a circle- their usual seating arrangement on the floor. Knuckles and Tails had taken their usual seats, studying some documents that lay before them. Tails picked up a map to take a closer look. Metal was standing cross-armed near the entrance as the chilly air spilled in from the outside. Though Amy was strung tighter than a mandolin, she still did her best to give him a reassuring look on her way in.

Knuckles looked up as the duo entered. “About time. Amy, c’mere and sit next to me.”

“Oh, um, sure.” She usually sat next between him and Sonic anyway; it was odd he asked her to sit with him specifically. She took a seat on a cushion next to his and he immediately threw an arm around her, pulling her in close. Amy sensed Metal was putting his guard up.

“Amy, care to tell me why you’ve brought a killer enemy robot to my home?”

Despite the chill, Amy was beginning to sweat. She laughed softly in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Stop kidding around, Knuckles. We’re all friends here.”

Knuckles didn’t find it so funny. “Am I the only one who remembers when your ‘friend’ stole the Master Emerald and sent my home plummeting to the ground?”

Sonic sat next to her, grinning. Amy ignored him, looking instead toward Metal and making a patting motion with her hand, signaling to keep calm. “Come on, Knuckles, that was years ago. Besides, Metal doesn’t remember doing that.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

She pushed him away. “Ugh! Would you calm down? You’re yelling in my ear.” 

“I think the situation warrants some yelling, Amy!”

Sonic was snickering nearby; payback for all the times she and Tails teased him and Knuckles about their petty bickering. If looks could kill, she would have harpooned him with her eyes. Sonic cleared his throat, quickly gathering himself. “Relax, Knuckles. Amy says Metal’s safe, so he’s safe. Right, Tails?”

“Huh?” Too entranced in the map to notice the argument, Tails looked up upon hearing his name. “Oh, yeah. We took his weapons, anyway,” he shrugged.

Amy turned her deadly glare to Tails, who quickly hid behind his map again. “Who’s ‘we’? You did that.” Trying to avoid antagonizing Metal, Amy hadn't exactly made it known that Tails went beyond repairs when he was working on him. This wasn’t the gentlest way for Metal to find out. 

“I think it was a good call,” Sonic remarked. She scoffed back indignantly.

Metal was looking to Amy, who turned back to him with an apologetic expression. They hadn’t been there for two minutes and the meeting was already a trainwreck. He’d expected the heightened reactions, but learning that whatever weapons he was once equipped with were just taken from him without consent was an unpleasant surprise. Despite not remembering what he’d lost, he felt somewhat betrayed. Perhaps Amy still had her guard up along with the others.

Taking a deep breath, Amy addressed the room. “Guys, let’s settle down, there’s business to discuss. Metal, come sit with us,” she motioned to him. Narrowing his eyes in Metal’s direction, Knuckles grumbled something under his breath.  “Quit it already,” Amy elbowed him. He conceded, letting out an exasperated breath as Metal sat across from them, remaining further out of the circle than the others.

The team all turned to Sonic expectantly while Metal sat watching Amy. Her anxiety grew again as she felt his eyes on her and she was reminded of their first meeting. 

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Sonic began, “Let’s talk shop. Tails?”

He nodded. “So, last time we encountered Eggman, he ran off before the fight was finished.”

“So, we decided to go after him,” Sonic interjected. “I went looking for him the next day, but there were no flashy hideaways or ‘secret’ factory- none of his usual antics.”

“Then I saw this.” Tails tossed a newspaper into the center of the circle and Amy and Knuckles leaned in for a closer look. Magic City Under Way, read the main headline. Concept art of three tall, tower-like buildings was illustrated, followed by a smaller photo of a crew breaking ground at a construction site. A familiar rotund figure stood at the center proudly.

“Eggman?” Knuckles picked up the paper for a better look. “What’s he building?”

“Some kind of theme park by the looks of it,” Tails suggested.

Knuckles scoffed, tossing the paper aside. “That’s his usual schtick- let’s just go after him already.”

“Nothing to go after,” Sonic replied. “He’s usually building these things in secret, right? Using some weird tech to pull off his evil scheme. And now, he’s just out in the open. What’s that about?”

Amy picked up the newspaper, skimming through the article. “Magic City. I heard about this project- is Eggman really behind it? He usually sticks his face on everything, but this looks normal.”

“Yeah, that’s cause there’s nothing out of the ordinary going on there. I spent the better part of a week hanging around that construction site. I even talked with some crew members and snooped around the place, but it was just your average build site. Everyone acted totally normal-”

“Pah, sounds like some mind control junk to me,” Knuckles interrupted.

Tails leaned in. “That’s what we thought, too. But none of the crew seemed brainwashed. And look at this,” he pulled up some photos on a digital tablet, scrolling through. “Budgeting sheets, payroll…”

“Just like any other jobsite,” Sonic confirmed. “Why would you need HR if you’re using mind-control?”

“Sonic even found blueprints for the buildings. The one on the left is basically just a hotel. There’s a few restaurants, a casino on the bottom floor... This one has a nightclub and an indoor amusement park,” he pointed out. “And none of his usual traps, either. Everything looks totally normal. It’s just… an entertainment complex?”

Amy looked puzzled. “So, what, he’s an entrepreneur now?” 

Knuckles leaned back against the wall, looking up in thought. “He’s gotta be hiding something.” 

“Yeah,” Tails agreed. “And by the looks of it, this photo was taken on the day we battled- you know.”

The team turned to look at Metal. He gazed at each of them momentarily, noting their concerned expressions. “Metal,” Amy said, “Do you remember anything from that day? Before Tails and I found you?” He’d scanned what little was left of his memory enough times to know the answer. Metal shook his head right away, being met with disbelief from Knuckles.

“I don’t buy it. Metal Sonic has to be a spy- why else would he be here?”

“Knuckles, there's no way,” Amy looked to Tails for support. “You searched through all his stuff, right? He doesn’t remember anything.”

Tails half-nodded. “Well, yeah- to my knowledge. There was a lot of encrypted data- but it’s inaccessible in theory. He definitely can’t be tracked, though.”

“So how can we be sure then?” Knuckles returned.

“I trust Amy’s judgement,” Sonic said with a matter-of-fact tone. Surprised to hear him admit it to the team, Amy’s face softened into a look of admiration as she faced him. He probably should have felt grateful for the support, but Metal was displeased with Sonic’s playful wink back at her. “Besides, what’s Eggman gonna find out if he is spying? That we have no clue what he’s up to?”

Sonic had a point. There was silence as the team sat in thought, each pondering about possible scenarios or trying to come up with a plan of action. Metal could see this going on for an hour. He didn’t remember anything from that day, but he might if something jogged his memory. So, he tapped his sharp fingers against the ground and Amy’s ears perked up.

“Oh! That’s right,” she sat up straight. “Metal was able to remember the day Sonic and I met him when I told him about it. Maybe we can tell him about...” Her posture immediately became hunched when she realized what it meant. She recalled how broken his body still was inside, a sense of guilt casting down on her.

Tails’ eyes widened with excitement. “No kidding? I gotta take a look at him again!”

“More importantly,” Sonic added, “we gotta tell him about that battle and see if he remembers anything.”

Knuckles chimed in. “How do we know Metal Sonic won’t suddenly remember some objective to, I don’t know, kill us?”

The way they spoke about him like he wasn’t in the room did nothing to make Metal feel welcome. He knew he’d be far from their acceptance, but being viewed as an object to be poked and prodded was far more demeaning. Trust could be earned, but would they ever see him as something other than a machine? Amy kept calling him a friend. So what did it mean that she kept his “modifications” a secret?

“Metal,” Amy interrupted the boys’ musings, “would you be okay with that?” She side-eyed her teammates as she continued. “We wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He returned with a lazy shrug, looking away from the others. Reliving a defeat at the hands of these people- the people he was meant to associate with, who were suddenly giving him reasons to be distrustful- he wasn’t sure how he’d feel. It wasn’t about losing his weapons; after all, he hadn’t needed them since Amy found him. If asked now, he would disarm himself willingly as long as he was staying with her. But perhaps his debt of gratitude amounted to more than accompanying her on trips and helping her down from high places. Now, it felt like Amy’s kindness could come at the expense of his autonomy. It was hardly a fair choice. Metal wished he was anywhere but that burrow.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Amy assured him. Knuckles looked like he was about to say something but she jabbed her elbow in his side again, rendering his complaint into an intelligible grumble. Metal wasn’t responding. He looked aloof, casting his gaze sideways to avoid eye contact. Amy had seen that look in him before, quickly recognizing his discomfort. She picked herself up and crossed the circle to meet Metal at the other side, kneeling next to him. “Hey,” Amy placed a hand on his shoulder, “remember that you can choose from now on, right?” She leaned in close to whisper. “We’ll talk about the other stuff after the meeting, promise.”

There was something in her kind voice and gentle touch that continued to stir him. Amy’s warmth seeped into Metal’s steely joints and melted his icy façade until he could no longer guard himself against her. She could give him all the choices in the world, but obliging Amy was quickly turning into a compulsion; one that, he suddenly realized, was about more than just his gratitude. Pleasing her seemed to bring him an unexpected and immeasurable satisfaction; It was inexplicable. He would endure any manner of painful memory if she only asked him to- but she wasn’t asking. She wouldn’t. Metal had to decide for himself. He considered all her kindness, yet wasn’t any happier about the “other stuff,” as she put it. It was as painful as it was confusing.

Tails’ worried voice shook Metal from his daze. “Hey, is he okay?” The uncomfortably long silence that had filled the room was impeded only by the whirring crescendo of Metal’s engine. He caught sight of Amy’s concerned stare first, then the vexed faces of the rest of the team. 

“Do you... need a minute?” she asked hesitantly.

Metal quickly shook his head, wanting to get all their peering eyes off of him.

Amy sighed as her hand left his shoulder. “Metal, do you want to hear about the battle the other day? It’s okay if you don’t.” He nodded hesitantly to no one in particular, reasoning that he may as well remember what he could. It wasn’t the answer Amy was hoping to hear. A grimace spread across her face as she immediately began thinking of tactful ways to approach the story. Before the pause had a chance to become awkward, Sonic chimed in.

“Alright, so here’s how we kicked your-”

“Sonic!” Amy sent her piercing glare at him once more. 

“What? That’s what happened,” Sonic grinned. He caught Metal rolling his eyes.

“I can tell it, Amy,” Tails chimed in. Amy responded with a begrudging nod and he continued. “So, late afternoon, we received a distress call about Eggman and Metal causing a fuss close to town. We expected to find more of his badniks hanging around, but it was just you and him there. You’d set off a few missiles at some rocks-”

“Eggman said you were just doing ‘target practice,’ trying to sound innocent” Knuckles scoffed.

“Right. So, we told him to get lost, but he said he wasn’t doing anything wrong and ordered Metal to continue-”

“I intercepted and shot the next missile right back at you,” Sonic cut in with a smirk. “Really set you off.”

Tails nodded. “Then you two started fighting. Eggman said something about you finishing practice on your own and took off, which was weird, ‘cause he usually sticks around. Anyway, Sonic and Metal headed into the valley, so I sort of followed you…”

“Then you broke Tails’ wrist,” Sonic commented, looking directly at Metal. “Right, Ames?” Amy frowned apologetically and answered with a shrug. 

“Yeah...” Tails continued. “But anyway-”

Knuckles interrupted impatiently. “You flew up the hillside and Amy knocked Sonic into you with her hammer. End of battle,” he grunted. “So do you remember anything or what?”

An immense guilt befell Amy the moment her name left his lips. Metal watched as she avoided looking at him, fidgeting with the tassels on her scarf anxiously. Battles aren’t friendly- Metal didn’t fault her for attacking him when they were enemies. The story actually impressed him where she was concerned, but it didn’t give him the epiphany that Amy’s tale had. He remembered nothing.

“Well?” Knuckles insisted.

Metal turned to him and shook his head plainly.

“Tch. What a waste of time…”

“Back to the drawing board,” Sonic remarked.

Tails looked back at the newspaper with a smiling Eggman on the cover. “The battle was probably just to keep us from crashing this party. Eggman knew we’d come after him if he caused a racket, then he ran off when we were distracted so we couldn’t interrupt. I guess he really wasn’t doing anything other than making noise, though.”

Sonic yawned lazily. “You make it sound like we started the fight.”

“We kinda did,” Amy mumbled under her breath.

Sonic stood up, stretching his arms. “Well, nothing we can do about this now. We’ll just have to keep an eye on it.”

“Calling a meeting with no plan,” Knuckles followed, “typical.”

“Hey, I want us all to be on guard. There’s no telling what scheme this could lead to. We’d better be ready.”

“I’m always ready!” Knuckles boomed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been away long enough waiting for all of you to show up.” He marched across to stand over Amy, offering her a hand. She pulled herself up with Metal following her lead. “So you’re keeping an eye on Metal Sonic.” he grinned at her proudly. “Pretty brave, kid.” She clicked her tongue at him, giving him a lighthearted shove. Knuckles turned his attention to Metal’s looming figure with narrowing eyes. “I’d better be wrong about you.”

Metal knew that her teammate’s suspicions were justified and it would be hard to prove him otherwise. He crossed his arms and gave Knuckles a single nod. Knuckles returned with a nod of his own before glancing down at the rose-shaped patch on the front of Metal’s jacket with an amused scoff. He waved himself out before Amy had a chance to become aggrieved over it.

“Long way to fly for such a short meeting,” Tails sighed from across the room. He gathered his things hastily and booked it toward the front. “Let’s head back, I have something I gotta finish.”

“Right behind you, buddy.” Sonic made his way across. “Ames?”

She leaned her body towards Metal. “Actually, could you give us a minute?” 

Sonic’s brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t you guys get going?”

Before Amy could respond, Metal draped an arm over her shoulder. Their eyes met and he cocked his head sideways confidently. Amy got the message. “Well, if you’re sure…” she turned back to her teammates. “Why don’t you guys take the plane? Metal can give me a ride.” 

Tails and Sonic looked at each other in confusion. “I guess,” Tails said. “Do you want a ride?”

Sonic shifted to look back at Metal. How the robot managed to look cocky even with his usual expression, he did not know. At the risk of losing another staring contest, Sonic gave Amy a wave and started toward the exit. “Sounds good. Catch ya later.” Amy returned the wave as he and Tails went off,  Metal straightening himself back up once they were out of sight.

Amy then exhaled so severely that her entire body slumped. She didn’t think she’d ever feel so tense around her friends, and having kept the meeting mostly civil was an incredible relief. Unfortunately, there was another can of worms to deal with. She just managed to suppress a groan before addressing it.

“Thanks for coming, Metal. You did great today; But I thought Knuckles was gonna lunge at you for sure,” she chuckled. In a rather puffed up manner, with a hand at his hip, Metal gave her a sly shrug. Amy couldn’t keep from snorting at how pleased he looked with himself. “Don’t look so smug, he’s beat you up before,” she teased. He turned back to her with a resentful chime. It was incredible to Amy how comfortable they were together- she never would have expected to become such fast friends with a former (and very recent) enemy. But there they were, a few days into their new relationship, cordial and playful as if lifelong friends. All this even as they both knew a serious topic was approaching. She braced herself, her eyes cast down nervously.

“I’m sorry, Metal. I know taking your things was wrong. I blamed Tails, but I never really said anything, and then I kept it from you- but I’ll make sure you get everything back.” She twiddled her fingers together.

The sincere apology made Metal want to forgive her immediately, but the strange hurt he still felt didn’t allow him to. It didn’t make sense- he wasn’t angry anymore, she apologized, he understood their fear was not unfounded; so why couldn’t he feel okay about it? It may have been the realization that being autonomous wouldn’t be the same for him- how could it be? As quickly as she warmed up to him, even Amy didn’t see him as a person right away.  Maybe some never would. It wouldn’t be fair to rely on her advocacy, either- counting on her to mediate every tense situation was hardly freedom. And then there was the worry that his only affection for Amy was out of an innate need for guidance. 

Pulling the notepad from his pocket, Metal scribbled some words down. He ripped the leaf from its binding to hand to her. Amy glanced up at him momentarily before taking it. “You didn’t ask,” it read.

“I know I’m sorry,” she sighed. “Do you think you would’ve said yes?”

Metal pondered for a moment. He would have weighed his options at the time, but the moment had passed and he wasn’t so sure now. One thing was certain, however: if she’d asked him now, he wouldn’t think twice before agreeing. Metal handed her the next note with some hesitation as he admitted this. “You can ask for anything” was written neatly on it.

Amy didn’t know what to say. It was incredibly kind, but only made her feel more guilty that she had betrayed his trust early on. “Then, I guess I’ll ask you to forgive me- if you can.” Her ears drooped as the words grew ever remorseful. “And for hurting you, too. I feel like it's my fault you lost your memory in the first place.”

But that wasn’t something he would have to forgive her for. Instead, he carefully wrote his feelings, tearing the leaf from its binding gently. Metal locked eyes with her as he nervously placed it in her hand. “Thank you for finding me.”

She didn’t have an opportunity to respond. The second Amy looked up, Metal closed the gap between them, pulling her close into a hug. Her face flushed as a small gasp escaped her lips. Before she knew it, she was returning his embrace tenderly. “Dummy- I’m trying to apologize here,” she protested, though her swishing tail seemed to contradict any complaints. There were few things Amy enjoyed more than friendly affection, and considering the incredible embarrassment she felt after their last hug, she relished in his readiness to hold her. “I’m glad we found each other, too.”

As they slid away from one another, Amy combed through the front of her hair, pulling it over to conceal her blushing cheeks. “You know, this isn’t even the first time I find you in the snow…”  Metal tilted his head curiously, so she continued. “Well, first time, it was a couple of years after we met. You’d been laying there a while- actually, I think it was after Knuckles took back the Master Emerald from you. He can really throw a punch,” she chuckled. “But you know, you seemed so sad. We were enemies then, but I helped you get back home because, well, I guess I thought it would change things. Don’t know if it really made a difference, though.”

Defeat. Snow. Amy’s mercy and kindness. It was like déjà vu; Metal could suddenly remember each encounter individually, the earliest of which was just as vivid a memory as the most recent. He dropped the notepad and pen and took her hands excitedly, looking into her widening eyes. An exuberant smile spread across Amy’s face in realization.

“You remember!” Her fingers tightened around his delicately. “I don’t know what happened after that, but, I hope it’s a happy memory for you.”

He recalled how indifferently he acted toward her help then. He knew who Amy was, but whatever memory he possessed of their first encounter had been gutted. All he remembered as she dragged him through the snow was holding her captive and being defeated. No empathetic smile, no tarot reading, no kind words- she was just a footnote in his files by the time she found him; just like had been a few days ago. Though he had scarcely tried to communicate with her, the unfamiliar comfort her care provided compelled him to relent. And despite how unresponsive he had been Amy still lent him her aid. She’s offered him a hand time and time again without holding it over him. Perhaps that was why all the small ways in which he returned the favor brought him such pleasure.

Metal nodded. He didn’t remember anything after she left his side then, but finally understanding the mixed emotions that went through his head that cold day did bring him joy. It was close enough.

“I’m glad…” Amy sheepishly unlatched her fingers from his and clasped her hands in front of her face, concealing her rosy cheeks. “I guess… we should head home? We can take off from where we landed.”

Metal turned toward the exit, impulsively offering Amy his arm. She looked astonished for a moment before latching onto him with a giggle.

“Where did you learn to be a gentleman? I’m surprised you have it in you.” 

Metal’s smug tones and exaggerated head-bobbing gave her more to laugh and tease him about as they made their way out and through the forest. He didn’t mind. Every time they started back to Amy’s house together, it felt more like home.

---

Everything in the burrow echoed and could be heard from the outside if one knew where to listen from; And Knuckles knew just the spot. “About time,” he grumbled, watching as the pair sauntered out of sight from behind a thick tree trunk. He re-entered the space to find Metal’s pen and notepad left behind on the ground. So that’s how he was communicating. Annoyed that they had left their trash behind, Knuckles picked up both items with the intention of throwing them in the bin, but stopped when he noticed a short note written on the first page. He grinned as he read it. Probably knows I was listening, he thought. It didn’t really come as a surprise that Metal left it behind for Knuckles to find, but the words and their sentiment were unexpected.

He ripped the page out of the book to keep. Knuckles would have to hold Metal to his word: “I will prove you wrong.”

..................................................................................................................

hi babes~ how are you all doing this cursed election week?

i’m uhhh not 100% satisfied with this chapter but i’m sick of looking at it so here she is! also obviously i’m obsessed to death with the mania adventures short because where else are we getting our canon metamy crumbs

((yes i could have picked one of several canon names for the amusement park yes i decided to call it magic city because i’m from miami (: fight me abt it))