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tightsreport73 · 2 years

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Study Fb Adverts With Jon Loomer

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#seo

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cherrywoes · 3 years

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002 | CONTROL

002.

Strong language, some sexual references.

YOU DIDN'T SEE USHIJIMA for over a month after that particular incident. Between your various promotions in Brazil, Paris, and Venice by Akaashi's requests, you had no time for homebound work much less returning to Tokyo for a brief siesta with the man who was plaguing your dreams. He was a menace even when he wasn't there with you—not that you were necessarily complaining. Just the thought of him got you off faster than anything else you could have produced in the heat of the moment, and it surprised you every time the aftershocks wore off and you were trying to catch your breath.

If it were anyone else, you would have been ashamed every time thoughts of that photoshoot kept you awake until three in the morning or blindsided you in the middle of company meetings while Akaashi was briefing you on how you should do your runway turns and pauses for the crowd to show off the ridiculous slits in the gowns he'd designed for a summer collection.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was a different breed of man entirely, you'd give him that much.

Gnawing on the cap of your pen, you tapped your fingers on the corner of your desk and eyed the reference photos Akaashi had sent you so you would know how you would be appearing on the runway. A lot of them were primarily focused on shoulders, knees, calves, and hips, with an unusual emphasis on the curvature of your neck. You scribbled down a note to start your neck exercises to make sure the skin was taut and smooth before the show and, as an afterthought, sadly crossed out sugar from your diet plan.

Sometimes you hated your dietitian's planners. Your meals were planned out from morning to noon, with small snacks in between usually of protein shakes and fruit with a limited amount. While you sometimes cheated and drank soda or ate oatmeal with enough sugar to sink a battleship, you usually stuck to your diet even if it was something you didn't like—you eyed the plate of asparagus, spinach, and salmon sitting on your desk that you'd poked around at but had yet to eat. You'd most likely skip the meal entirely and replace it with something else later.

Before you could close your laptop for the night and squirm out of the designer shirt and pants you wore, the gaping slash from neck to navel leaving you chilly, a facetime call popped up on your screen, reading 'Annoying Ass Cat' or, simply, Kuroo.

You answered without a second thought. You hadn't had time to see either him or Kenma like you had wanted besides intercepting their bills and paying them yourself, even though the gamer was cautiously making his way back into the scene much to his fans delight. You would pop in the chats whenever you had the time, the time zone difference manageable for you. While it was 2PM in Tokyo, it was 6AM in Venice, right as you were waking up and eating breakfast, so you'd watch and interact with Kenma while you got ready for the day. Kuroo was there sometimes or was at work depending on the day, but you were happy to see your boys were okay even if it was through a gaming stream.

"[Name]!" Kuroo exclaimed as the screen came up, revealing your bare face and the backdrop of nighttime over Venice in the window behind you. He was sitting somewhere in the kitchen and you could see Kenma poke his head from around a corner when he shouted your name. "How's Venice? No, how was Paris? Your Instagram was full of pictures there especially."

You laughed and set your pen down on a notepad. "It's really beautiful here, I promise. I prefer Venice over Paris though, there's a tranquility here that Paris just doesn't have. But I only have one more show before Akaashi's letting me fly home for a while."

"That's good, me and Kenma miss you," he said with a wide grin. You watched the shorter male nod in agreement behind him and add,"I miss playing COD with you and ignoring Kuroo."

"Hey!" said male gasped, offended.

"I miss you guys too." You smiled and leaned back in your chair, picking the pen back up and twirling it between your fingers. "Kenma, have you gotten rid of your… uh… worm problem?"

He scowled at you briefly when you snorted at your little joke. "Yes, I have. The doctors said I should be perfectly healthy by next week."

"Finally," Kuroo guffawed. "I'm tired of thinking they're gone and then have them come right back and you get sick again."

Kenma just shrugged. You laughed lightly and opened your mouth to comment on the new clothes Kuroo was wearing since they were from Akaashi's collection when your phone pinged with a message.

"Who's that?" Kuroo asked when you reached over to pick up your phone, flipping the screen face up to scan the contact name. He watched your eyes slowly widen and a dark blush creep up your face, darker than he'd ever seen it in normal lighting, and a strangled squeak force its way past your lips. "[Name]?"

You worried at your bottom lip, glancing at the name 'Ushijima' sitting innocently in your notifications and then back to Kuroo and Kenma, who were both silently waiting for your answer to who it was. You could tell them, of course, and you would feel guilty for it—because Ushijima was your best kept fantasy, as much as you'd deny it, and the incident at the beach wasn't something you wanted to share with either of them. They were your best friends, but you had to draw the line in the sand somewhere…

And you were drawing it at Ushijima Wakatoshi.

"Akaashi has a dress he wants me to model," you choked out, ignoring Ushijima's text and opening up Akaashi's contact to pull up the risque dress he'd sent you when you landed in Venice. It didn't bother you but you needed an excuse for the flush on your face; Kuroo wouldn't know the difference. It was a bright orange number, more akin to two banners of silk wrapped around your throat and taped to cover your breasts and angle between your legs, held together by a heavy jeweled belt. You held your phone up to the laptop camera and heard Kenma let out a surprised grunt. "I know. It's not his usual work, but he wanted something for summer and… well. That's summer."

Kuroo seemed appeased by your answer, at least. "I think you could pull it off. I'll have to watch the show when it airs."

You felt relief too soon. If there was anything you didn't want either of them to do it was watch this particular show, filled with more skin and silk and nudity than you'd ever show them in polite company, your current shirt aside. It was almost like showing yourself to two overtly awkward boyfriends and expecting them to ignore you, which they wouldn't, and try not to evoke certain reactions, which they would. But you couldn't exactly tell them that, now could you?

"Way to inspire anxiety," you said, instead, fingers hovering over Ushijima's unread text. You sorely wanted to read it, but you couldn't in front of them. It felt too secret, too intimate, even though you hadn't exchanged another word with the man besides the text he'd sent you as you had left the shoot that day. "If I trip and fall it's your fault."

Kuroo grinned rakishly. "I'd bet on it."

You spent a few more moments talking to them before excusing yourself for bed. It was midnight where you were and you were getting drowsy, but the thought of Ushijima's text was enough to get you going. You would probably crash later, but your curiosity was killing you.

With a few air kisses to them both, you ended the call and stared at your phone lying on your desk, as if such a simple piece of technology didn't have the capability of turning your emotions upside down.

"Here goes nothing," you mumbled and opened the text, holding your breath and your hand over your mouth.

'Congratulations.'

Underneath he'd attached an image, and it took you a few minutes to realize what you were looking at. The main piece, which he was referring to, was a glossy magazine cover with you plastered on the front in Akaashi's lingerie line, where you'd been seated on a throne, given a scepter, and a crown that was tastefully askew on your head. You had the same photo printed and framed in Akaashi's office, one of his favorites, and your first front cover for this magazine. The magazine was laying in his lap, legs spread in what looked like an expensive leather chair, and you just barely made out the toe of his shoes and the pinstripes in his pants. You did see Nox's ear in the top corner, making you giggle just a bit.

You felt just a little pathetic at analyzing every facet of the innocent photo, but you assured yourself that you were just curious and you could learn a lot from how someone took photos.

'Thank you,' you typed back, then pulled your lip between your teeth. What else to add? 'I didn't think you'd see that, haha.'

Too nervous to watch him potentially reply, you tossed your phone on your hotel bed and pulled on your pajamas, ignoring the ping of his text back while you pulled your t-shirt over your head. When you were comfortable and felt somewhat more calm, you burrowed underneath the heavy hotel sheets and opened the text.

'Why wouldn't I?' He'd written. 'You're very eye catching, [Name]. Although that isn't what I texted you for.'

Anxiety hit you like a truck.

'Then what did you need?'

You gnawed on your nail, careful not to leave marks on the filed tips, and watched as three little periods popped up as he typed his reply. He took his time, that was for certain, and you were expecting a paragraph by the time he'd finished, but to your surprise—your heart fluttered and dropped down to your belly when you read it—it was just one simple word.

'You.'

You never regretted falling asleep more in your life. Somehow you'd gotten too comfortable and your eyes had slipped closed against your will. You'd slept until your alarm woke you and you'd sworn it was just a dream, except you nearly spit out your black coffee when you went back to the texts that morning. You felt bad about not replying, but soon it left your mind in a flurry of silks, chiffon, and lace and the chaos that was Akaashi's fashion show.

The next time you thought about those texts, it was on your flight home to Tokyo. You'd had a few glasses of champagne to celebrate not tripping on the runway, much to Kuroo's disappointment, and had typed a reply without a thought to the consequences of replying over a week later.

'Why me?' It was simple but you'd lost the nerve to type anything more. You'd have to have more to drink to type up anything more than that. Surprisingly, he was awake so early in the morning: a glance at the clock revealed it was 2 A.M. What was he doing awake so late?

'Why not you?' Was his reply, as if that explained anything.

Frustrated, you downed the rest of your champagne and requested for something stronger from the flight attendant. She blinked at you in surprise, but went to retrieve a bottle of whiskey like you'd asked while you typed up another alcohol fueled reply.

'You don't even know me,' you typed, nails clacking against the screen,'and other than nearly cumming on your leg in front of fifteen photographers, I don't know you either.'

With a huff, you slammed your phone down right as the flight attendant returned with a bottle of high grade whiskey. You drank straight from the bottle instead of using a glass, praising the perks of flying first class, and watched as Ushijima's response lit up your phone.

'I know more about you than you think, [Name].'

Eyebrows furrowing, you sat back in your seat and stared at the screen, dumbfounded and a little buzzed.

'What the hell does that mean?'

He never answered you after that. You pounded back the rest of the bottle in less than an hour and curled up on the couch near the back, knowing fully well that you'd wake up nursing the worst hangover known to man. You never did handle alcohol well, or at all. But you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was an infuriatingly handsome enigma wrapped up in a quiet, stern package with a dash of mischief that seemed rare and unseen. You wanted to unwrap this mystery and with every interaction he just seemed to add more layers, more mystery to himself, so much so that you couldn't help but wonder who he really was, or what he wanted with you.

By the time you got back to Tokyo, it was six in the morning. The airport was unusually empty and besides the paparazzi catching you and snapping a few photos of your "airport outfit"—a loose Gucci Oxford button up (which was Akaashi's and somehow made it into your bag, probably after he'd given it to you when you spilled tea all over yourself last week) half tucked and draped over a pair of leggings with tasteful ladders cut into the thighs and knees—and shouted several questions at you even though your hangover made you want to beat the hell out of your skull.

"[Name], you look awful." Ayano greeted you at the exit, wearing designer everything from head to toe and looking exceptionally glamorous for it. You could faintly smell men's cologne on her and automatically assumed she had been on a date—or was just finishing up a hookup, judging by how she'd tried to fix her makeup and failed. "Don't you have breakfast plans with that famous dietitian?"

"Who?" You squinted into the dawn sunlight and fumbled for a pair of sunglasses in your purse, slapping them on your face with a grimace. "You mean Iwaizumi Hajime? One, he's a sports dietitian, and two, I'm only doing it to track down where the hell Oikawa went so I can wring his pretty little neck."

"That sounds like an unexplored kink," Ayano teased. She snickered when you slapped her lightheartedly; she seemed much better off being able to go home earlier than you had. "I'm joking. I don't know where exactly in Argentina he went. I'm sure if anyone knows it's Iwaizumi."

You hummed in agreement. "Which is why I need you to figure out his schedule so I can jump in on his breakfast or lunch."

She sighed. "I knew there was something you weren't telling me."

"But you love me," you grinned, blowing her a kiss and hopping in the passenger seat with renewed gusto despite your pounding headache.

Ayano stepped into the driver's seat a moment later with an even more exaggerated sigh. "Unfortunately."

Thirty minutes and a few well placed bribes later, you had a printout of Iwaizumi's schedule from Monday to Sunday, with even fine details written in the margins. You flicked the paper out and pushed your sunglasses up, holding it up against the sunlight so you could read and block it at the same time.

"Breakfast at Onigiri Miya," you read slowly, eyebrows raising. "Orders the plain Onigiri and soy sauce with water to drink; later has a twenty milligram protein shake and salmon patties for a snack. Who wrote this, a superfan disguised as a pseudo secretary?"

Ayano groaned and turned the music down at your observation. "Are you going to go or not? Because we're here."

Your gaze darted forward to look around. "Where?"

She gestured to the small building she'd parked outside. "Onigiri Miya."

It was a cozy little shop, you'd give that. Ayano had allowed you to change before dropping you off, so now you wore a pair of Louboutins, a stylish pair of washed jeans, and the same button up but tucked in tight underneath a plain Chanel belt. A few of the morning customers eyed you as you walked in, but to your surprise no one was at the counter.

You spotted Iwaizumi Hajime out of the corner of your eye while you waited, completely oblivious to your presence and enjoying his Onigiri and soy sauce. The schedule had been right after all. You pursed your lips and turned your head back to face the menu, except there was now a man standing in front of you—and judging by the way he was looking at you, he recognized you, his eyes slightly wide.

"I—Uh—How can I help you?" He blustered, running a hand through his yellow hair. His nametag read 'Miya Atsumu' and underneath, scrawled in permanent marker, was an angry 'Part-Timer'. "Would you like to know the specials for today?"

"No thank you. I'll take the plain Onigiri, please, and water." You smiled and took pleasure in the way he blushed all the way to the roots of his hair. He was a handsome man, you had to say, if a little awkward.

"Sure thing!" Atsumu put in your order and you paid with your card. When he went to the back, he said,"Switch!"

You tapped your fingernails against the counter and observed the scratches in the cheap tile. When you looked up again, a bored grin on your face, you felt your stomach shrivel up and try to escape to the floor at the familiar face before you.

"Terushima Yuuji," you said sourly, grin fading to a harsh line. "What a surprise."

"[Name]?" He had the balls to look surprised to see you standing there—and really, he should be. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of you since you'd ended things with him when he cheated on you several months ago. "Wow. You look… good."

"Of course I do." You scowled and held out your hand. "My change?"

"Oh. Uh… Here. Three sixty." He dropped it into your waiting palm. "What are you doing here?"

"What? Am I not allowed to be here?" You questioned, your voice acidic. Your plan to ambush Iwaizumi was put on the back burner so you could rip Terushima a new one. Seeing his face after all this time made you want to beat him to a bloody pulp. "Whatever. Give me my Onigiri and I'll leave."

"But—"

"Goodbye." You twirled on your heel and headed for the door to sit outside where you weren't in the same room as him.

What you weren't expecting was the warmth of soup being tossed at the back of your head, or the feeling of hands clawing into your hair.

Six years of Taijutsu training kicked in and before you knew it, you had a girl sprawled out on the floor, her nose streaming vermillion rivers and her lip swelling up to concerning proportions. Your knuckles burned with the force and before you could nudge her body away, Yuuji leaped forward to check on the girl with panicked eyes.

"Babe?" He shook her, only receiving a groan in reply. "Answer me!"

Oh, this day just couldn't have gotten any worse could it? And it was all Oikawa's fault.

003.

MASTERLIST.

TAGLIST: @momowhoo | +++

Feedback is appreciated! 💕

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#ushijima x you #ushijima x y/n #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi

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askhubertvonvestra · 3 years

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💅/❣️, bonus if hubert's rival is his crush

[Good question! I do love the rivals-to-lovers energy, what can I say? Haha. I elected to answer all three. Because I am a menace.

Rival

If it’s strict rivalry, Hubert’s response is to watch carefully for an opening to get under their skin because he really can just be Like That sometimes. He’s not easily made into a rival, generally speaking, but he will not go halfway if he’s reached rivalry status.

He puts that sharp intellect to good use as quick wit, ready with one-liners and devastating criticisms all too easily. As sort of an extension of his ability to see the worst in things, he can turn even accomplishments by a rival into shortcomings or lackluster achievements. In terms of his reaction just seeing his rival, it probably starts with scowling at them and gradually turns to a calculating smirk. When he can’t come up with suitable taunting, he will be civil, and important matters will take priority over mocking them.

Crush

Because he’s Hubert, it’s very possible that his crush will get a similar expression, actually. His expression changes from his RBF to something neutral or even displeased (because Feelings, ew), then to something more collected. This is partly why it’s so hard to tell when he’s catching feelings, since he generally assumes he shouldn’t have those emotions or doesn’t deserve the object of his interest/should devote his focus to the task at hand.

Any teasing will be more playful in nature, not as mean-spirited, and praise will be given sparingly when it’s easy to dismiss as “it’s only an observation”, etc. He’ll definitely be more polite rather than just civil, and he’s much more like to go to bat for his crush if he feels compelled to do it and no one else does. His priority with a crush is not letting them know, all in all. (There are some exceptions to this, though. If he’s got a crush on someone he already feels at ease with, that makes it a lot easier to get swept up in the feeling inevitably and confess before he gets caught up in his head and in his own way.)

Rival-Crush

My favorite, best for last~

It’s very interesting when he goes from rival to crush, because a begrudging respect can definitely evolve from general distaste, depending on the rival. Hubert can be very set in his ways and certain that there is only one path to achieve something, and if that’s ever proven wrong by a rival, it has the effect of making him see them in a different light. A more flattering one, all in all. This is his slippery slope, as respect can turn to appreciation and then fondness. The taunting may stay just as harsh, and they’re probably giving him as good as they get, but it’s more good-natured after he starts crushing on them anyway.

The feelings sneak up on him, though! He’s usually pretty self-aware with his perception of others, but having romantic feelings is a very different story. With how he thinks of himself as an instrument of vengeance and a protector for the most part, thinking of himself with a crush can blindside him.

Most likely, those feelings will build up piece by piece until he has a sudden epiphany. It could be as harmless as praise freely given or an idle smile in their direction or as monumental as a close call in battle making him realize how much value his rival has to him. Either way, he really does feel compelled to circle it and analyze it and come to the best possible conclusion before acting. Unless he sees an opportunity slipping away, like another person getting their romantic interest, he won’t act hastily. Or even promptly.]

#adamastus #a reasonable response would be to answer just one BUT HERE WE ARE I have no chill #this one is a fun one bc Hubert can get an interest in sweethearts like Bernie and sarcastic little gremlins like Yuri #so there's a whole range of opportunity! <3 #hubert von vestra #fe3h hubert #fe16 hubert #fe hubert #fire emblem hubert #headcanon #fe3h headcanon #fe headcanon #hubert von vestra headcanon #fe16 headcanon #long answer #mun speaks

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let-me-write · 4 years

Text

The Truth Untold

Find chapters 1 2 3 here

Chapter 4: Blindsided

Drusilla Blackthorn looked forward to finally be a part of a mission but that came second only to meeting her brother again. What awaits her at the New York Institute?

The black car rolled determinedly through the Manhattan traffic, making lethargic progress, in an endless sea of cabs.

Though it has been two years since Dru had joined the academy, she has been to the New York Institute only once before. She was excited about the mission obviously but not as much as for seeing her brother again.

She and her brother Ty had gotten closer since the unfortunate events at Idris. She would be meeting him after a long time; what with their breaks never aligning.

Beside her, Thais was immersed in her book, occasionally glancing up to notice their progress on road.

Louis, on the wheel, was trying his best not to hit the cab in front of him, despite its erratic manoeuvres. He must be regretting this new American experience, Dru thought.

Of course, this miserable journey of theirs could have been avoided, if they had come through a portal. Well, hard luck for them, since portals were being regulated and they stayed within the state, unlike the centurions.

It was fifteen more minutes before they reached the gothic cathedral, which was the New York Institute. She had loved it on her first visit. Now, she observed it admiringly, captivated by the building's mystic charm.

Thais joined her behind the car, to collect all their belongings. Louis offered to carry their weapons trunk. They didn't refuse as he could get pushy, in an awkwardly polite way. It's best to let him carry on his "gentlemanly duties".

Dru followed her friend through the entrance. Thais whistled, amazed, now that they were closer.

"This place seems right up our alley, doesn't it Dru bear ?"

Dru scoffed at the new nickname. She could count on Thais to be ridiculous, irrespective of the place.

She replied to the other girl, "Oh, we're definitely watching that slasher film here. There's no other perfect setting". Dru was glad at the moment that she had a friend, who appreciated her morbid interests.

As soon as they pushed the door open to the institute, they were greeted with the sight of four shadowhunters - all in gear and immersed in a serious discussion.

Isabelle noticed them first and greeted them with a smile. She placed her hand on Simon's arm to stop him from speaking further.

Of course, the adults didn't want to traumatize them, she thought sourly.

Meanwhile, Jace and Clary rushed towards them in a coordinated manner. Clary pulled her into a hug which she returned awkwardly.

Thais Pedroso, to her right, was comparing her biceps with Jace, who was equally indulgent.

This wasn't new for them both...well, Jace had been to the academy for guest lectures before, and Thais-for reasons unknown-had declared her intention to best him in muscle building, of all things.

Dru shook her head. She must give up analyzing her friend's actions, gradually.

Soon, Isabelle and Simon joined them. Simon inquired about Beatriz and Catarina, and sincerely empathized with their travails at the academy.

After a few minutes of these formalities, Dru and Thais were shown to their room. It was a huge room with two beds in opposite corners. The two girls settled in and wondered if Louis made it into the institute.

Louis Rayhorn was from the Brussels institute. He had an easygoing and helpful attitude which should have technically made him popular...but sadly, he was also nosy and emitted an uneasy aura.

He was an able shadowhunter but an okayish companion. They were one of the only ones, who didn't mind his company. Because, Louis, for all his eccentricities, was their well-intentioned friend.

Thais worried now, " What if he got into trouble or worse, lost?"

Dru frowned, " I don't think Clary and Jace would abandon him. They knew he was coming too."

The other girl continued as if Dru hadn't spoken, " Let's go explore the institute. Find the weapons room. Maybe we'll find him there"

Dru nodded. She was still in the process of figuring out her signature weapon. Maybe, a look at the extensive collections of the New York Institute would help.

They roamed two floors aimlessly before stumbling upon a metal door with seraph blades carved on it.

" Very subtle" observed Thais. She pulled the handle and let herself in. Dru followed.

At once she stepped in, she heard her friend exclaim " Oh there he is!! I'm glad you made it here intact!! "

Dru followed Thais' gaze to the back of the room.

In front of a huge wooden trunk stood two figures; Louis was facing them and beside him, she saw a blond head diving into the trunk.

Must be Jace, she thought, but then realized that there was something odd about his physique.

Louis interjected her thoughts with his " Oh hey girls!! I was about to ask Christopher here to show me to my room. If not for him, I would have been wandering cluelessly"

Dru was perplexed, Wait, Christopher!?

Just then, the blond boy pulled himself upright and turned towards them.

Dru gasped...her mind was reeling.

The boy in front of her was taller, muscular, and held himself in an unmistakable Shadowhunter gait.

But his eyes; they gave it away...he was Kit...Kit Herondale was standing before her, older but still the same.

Kit Herondale looked equally unnerved as her, his blue eyes widening in surprise. 'Dru ' he mouthed.

Dru wasn't going to let him continue. She stormed towards him.

" What are you doing here?" she asked not too politely.

Kit's face was imperceptible. He seemed to be mulling over this question. He sighed before answering " I am here to be a part of the mission, same as you Dru "

He tried to avoid her eyes while talking.

Of course, he's lying! she noted with frustration; He hasn't changed at all since then.

Suddenly a warm hand pressed against her left arm. She turned around to see Thais looking concerned.

Dru inhaled sharply. She didn't want to do this here. Not now...

She turned around abruptly and left the room, hurrying down the hallway.

She had wanted to ask Kit: Why did you leave without a farewell? Why did you lie to me about my sister?

But they got lost in the thoughts that bombarded her now...

What if Ty sees him? He's going to get hurt again...Oh, what should I do? What should I do?

In the past, she had wanted to punch Kit if she met him again...for hiding the truth from her...and later on, for abandoning her brother.

Her brother, Ty... he might be here already!!

What if he's shocked by Kit's presence? He wouldn't know, just like her, and he won't handle such surprises well.

Maybe she could get to him before he stumbled upon Kit.

She was walking fast and unaware of where she was going until she reached the end of a hallway. There was a massive wooden door.

She was about to turn back when she heard tense whispers from behind the door.

Dru inched towards the door warily.

She heard a female voice " I am quite sure of my source"

Then, a male voice commented, " 'Something precious' huh?...the last time that was used, it turned out to be Ash Morgenstern"

It was Jace.

Clary's solemn voice added, " It won't be him again, obviously... Emma and Julian saw him stay in Thule."

Ash Morgenstern...

Dru remembered Jules and Emma talking about the Seelie Queen and Sebastian's son-after they had returned from Thule.

What does he have to do with anything now?

She was startled from her thoughts by fast-approaching footsteps.

She looked up dubiously.

Sigh...It was only Thais. Dru pulled her away from the door and into a dimly-lit corridor.

Thais looked at her with indignation. " I came looking for you, Dru!!", she said.

And continued, " By the way, are you alright? I guess you've met Christopher before...I was worried there...I've never seen you act this way"

Dru took a deep breath and looked at her friend's dark brown eyes, filled with concern.

She answered " Don't worry, I'm quite alright, Thais... Yes, I know him. And his name is Kit by the way"

"Okayy...what's really up with you and mini-Jace there?" asked her friend.

Dru wasn't ready to talk about this. She had to look for Ty anyway.

She asked instead, " Thais, do you know when the centurions would be arriving?"

Thais nodded, " Oh, I'm pretty sure they're here already. In fact, I saw a glimpse of a portal in the entrance, on my way"

By the time she could finish, they heard a loud bang from the front of the institute. They jumped in surprise and moments later, both of them were hurrying towards the foyer.

Dru exited the hallway first, only to find a huge commotion.

There was a pileup of scattered weapons, interspersed with people on the floor.

She saw Louis in the dead centre, with a couple of centurions lying beside him. He seemed to be unhurt.

None of them looked injured, only bewildered.

She suddenly realized, her brother must be in this chaos.

Before she could scan the room for him, she caught a glimpse of a flash of light and a hiss of pain.

She turned impulsively towards her left to find Ty in the corner, standing behind a pillar.

She noticed him holding someone towards the wall, away from a metal shelf that had fallen to the floor. The heavy shelf had made a substantial dent on the floor. It could have severely injured the person.

She walked towards him, only to find that Ty had pushed none other than Kit- away from the shelf's path.

Besides, Ty looked visibly anxious... Dru then noticed with dread that Kit Herondale had slumped down against the wall.

Tagging @tsccreatorsnet and @uzumakiswaathi - Thank you for beta-reading and being wonderful 💕

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reallystellacadente · 6 years

Text

I felt it. You know what I mean.

Fictober Day 28

[Rissa Quinn D’Arville is Malavai’s younger sister by 10 years. She has always idolized her big brother, even though in some ways she barely knew him -- she was a toddler when he was bundled off to prep school and he left for the military academy right after. But in other ways, she knew him maybe better than he knew himself. She has always been his biggest champion.]

Quinn’s head thrummed so hard he thought the beeping was just his brain’s way of warning him of an impending aneurysm. He’d spent the past four days camped out in Moff Lorman’s – correction, Minister Lorman’s – office, hoping to get a meeting. Hoping to convince him that The Empire’s Wrath wasn’t dead and to just give him a small military contingent to go searching for her.

Finally, he’d come home to shower and sleep and regroup. Lorman and his staff, an unusually incompetent group, were not going to be convinced by the direct approach. Reminding them he was Darth Marr’s liaison was useless, now that it was confirmed that the Empire’s guiding hand was dead.

It had only been two weeks. He knew Xhareen was alive. There was still time to track down all the escape pods. Three survivors had been identified as prisoners of war by the Republic just yesterday.

More importantly, he could feel her. Their Force bond was stronger than ever, like she was reaching out to him. It was especially strong at night as he slept.

He’d done the research and it was clear that a powerful Sith could form a Force bond with someone close to them regardless of whether the target was Force sensitive. He carried a special data spike with him citing all the old texts so that no one, especially not a cretin like Lorman, would think Quinn was suggesting a 40-year-old man had spontaneously developed Force powers.

“Fucking Lorman,” he moaned as he sat upright, realizing that it wasn’t his head buzzing, but his holocomm. He slapped the on button and growled, “What?”

“Mal, are you OK?” It was his younger sister, Rissa. “I was going to end the call and just come over. You had me so worried.”

Rissa had not been doing well, either, although she was hiding it with great skill. Her husband, Callen, was killed fighting the unknown power that attacked Korriban – the one that turned out to be the Eternal Empire, somehow connected to Vitiate, and to Xhareen’s disappearance, and Darth Marr’s death.

“Sorry, Rissa, are you OK? How’s my nephew?”

“Little Malavai is fine. He never really even knew his father. He’s napping like nothing’s wrong.”

But something was wrong. Everything was wrong. The Empire and the Republic had stopped fighting, each regrouping and licking their wounds after a merciless throttling by a clearly superior power.

But his baby sister was taking her husband’s death well – too well, Malavai worried. She didn’t even cry when the word came, his mother had said. She stood stoically during the funeral. Kayda got her drunk and she finally let her grief loose, but they all accepted this was not an ongoing coping strategy.

“And you? I asked about you,” he said.

“I’m fine, Mal. I know Callen is gone. I’m more worried about you.”

“Don’t be. Xhareen isn’t dead and that’s not me being in denial.”

“I know. She told us when you two were separated about your bond. I believe you, that you can sense she’s still alive.”

Something in the tone of her voice, the way she upturned her head – what did she know? Her preternatural calm in the wake of her husband’s death, leaving her a young widow with a small child …

“How have you managed to be so collected, Rissa?” Kayda had informed him that, despite them being separated by Callen’s deployments, they were a strong, loving couple. He had been looking forward to an extended leave to get to know his son when the Eternal Throne blindsided the entire galaxy. His entire battlegroup had been eliminated on a routine patrol.

“I felt it. You know what I mean,” she said, barely a whisper. “I knew he was gone before the call came from High Command.”

Was she suggesting a Force bond? How could that be? “Rissa, are you saying …?”

She nodded and sighed. “I’ve known for a while that I was slightly Force sensitive. It manifested too late to be of much use, though. And by then, the Empire had opened up Sith training to gifted aliens, so condemning Imperials with just a trace of Force power to certain death at the training academies was no longer a thing.”

Was there a more direct Sith lineage than anyone in the family had known before? This was more than his starved body and brain could handle.

“And before you ask, brother, I believe it’s from Mother’s line but as you might be able to guess, I’m not probing any further.”

No, she wouldn’t. Rissa always kept everyone else’s well-being at the forefront.

“So, you can read minds then?” he asked, a smile creeping across his unshaven face.

“I can read you like a book. The rest is just analyzing data.”

“Can I come over instead? I need to be with family right now,” he asked, practically pleading.

“Of course. We can talk about a better way to convince the powers that be that they should let you find your wife.”

“I will be there shortly,” he said as they signed off.

It was good to know he still had a family to lean on. He hoped it wouldn’t be for long, but for now, he wasn’t going to turn down their help.

#swtor #fictober18 #swtor fanfiction #malavai quinn #quinn!angst #blame it on the rain

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