#I am screaming into the void and hoping my voice reaches you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

an-idyllic-novelist · 10 months

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Hotaru Haganezuka with Chise!reader headcanons 🎐🪴

Warnings: OOC, aged up!reader (will be in their late twenties), foul language from Hotaru, mentions of enslavement, violence, blood, and the setting takes place five years before the main plot of Kimetsu no Yaiba/Demon Slayer, so Hotaru will be 32 years old instead of his canon age, 37.

If any of the following warnings might be a potential trigger, please hit the back button on your mobile device or computer and read something else.

This is a two-part collaboration with @deathmetalunicorn1 featuring the character!reader as Chise Hatori from the anime/manga series, The Ancient Magus’ Bride.

Our inspiration came from the magnificent Haganezuka x reader created by @yuki2sksksk. If you guys haven't check it out, do so because it is amazing and deserve more recognition! :)

Before we begin, here a few words from my dear colleague @deathmetalunicorn1:

"I hope you all enjoy the fruits of our combined hard work on this project. Please stay safe and don't hate us for the cliffhanger :P

With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy! ;)

PART TWO LINK IS HERE

PART THREE LINK IS HERE

PART ONE: HITSUZEN

Being in a romantic relationship with Hotaru Haganezuka is not simple, even after five years of marriage. [First Name] would not have it any other way, though, because this temperamental man makes each passing second worth it. If she was given the choice to go back in time and start all over again, she would still reach out to the swordsmith.

The two of them were acquaintances in the beginning, connected through Kanamori. [First Name] was one of two medicine peddlers who have set up shop in the village, selling their wares and providing treatment to ailing patients. Unfortunately, the chief was an occasional client due to his underlying medical conditions and old age, but thankfully his tenacity allowed him to bounce back to his cheerful self with the proper medicines. Haganezuka was the one who picked up the elder’s prescription when the latter caught a spring cold.

Their first meeting had been…awkward to say the least.

She had been in the back wrapping up Lord Tecchin’s order in thick brown paper to ensure the corked, glass bottles were protected if the package accidentally fell on the ground when she heard the front door slide open, followed by an annoyed voice calling out if anyone was around. [First Name] promised to be right out, grabbing the parcel and walking quickly to the shop’s front. There, Haganezuka stood; with his mask on, she couldn’t tell if she kept him waiting too long.

“Oi. You’re the medicine woman?” He asked curtly. Kanamori mentioned before that annoyed or slightly pissed off pitch in his voice is normal, so she didn’t mind it and bowed to him.

“I am.” She introduced herself with a polite smile, holding up the package. “You’re here to deliver this to Lord Tecchin, yes?” Haganezuka nodded. She gave it to him as she bowed to him again, wishing the swordsman to travel safely. He left without saying another word….and it was a good thing that he did.

If he could see them, he’d probably scream at the ayakashi hovering just outside of the shop. The wind chimes were enchanted to prevent them from coming any further and causing havoc. But it looked like [First Name] would have to ask the woodcutter to make at least three more to cover the shop’s outside perimeter. Maybe throwing salt twice a day, in the morning and in the evening, might help too.

These ayakashi, yokai, and the more friendlier ‘neighbors’, have been here since the dawn of time. They exist in the void, in stories passed down from one generation to the next. If they manifest in the human world, feeding on negative emotions, it was [First Name]’s job to purify and eliminate them.

But they were drawn to her like a moth to the flame because they know…they know this medicine seller isn’t entirely human nor a demon created by Muzan. [First Name] was something else, something she didn’t want others to find out or else she’d have to move again. She was really starting to enjoy living here, at least the outside of it while her shop was located a block away from the udon stand.

Everyone was nice to her, and the kids, at least some of them, liked to learn about the herbs she collected or how to use them. The swordsmen and their spouses would always greet her, asking how her day was going or to be careful on her next trip to search for herbs in the nearby mountains. [First Name] prayed that this monotonous yet peaceful life will continue.

Haganezuka had never noticed the medicine woman until he picked up the old man’s prescription. She wasn’t unusual in appearance or demeanor; [Hair Color] tresses falling past her neck, pulled back in a low ponytail, limpid [Eye Color] orbs. Coiled around her neck on a leather cord was a polished stone necklace with a natural hole in the center of it. She wore a dark green kimono with a yellow obi sprinkled with white spots, the color of the obi matching the ginkgo leaves of her black haori. She wore the same outfit every day. Definitely not unusual unless you’re from a noble house or rich enough to have more than two sets of clothes.

That brat Kotetsu seemed to like her well enough; he’d seen him and some of the other kids help her gather herbs in exchange for sweets, but she didn’t let them go too far in the mountains, only at the foot or surrounding fields. She acted as a mentor or chaperone to them, patting their heads when they did a good job and stepping in when things got too heated between them, whether it’s about finding the correct herb or something else a kid would be willingly to fight over with a friend.

The other villagers seemed to like her too. Even Kanamori and his wife, and old man Tecchin. He’d hear snippets of their conversation with the medicine woman, like how Kanamori said these words to her:

“Good morning, [Last Name]! Are you heading to the mountains again?”

“Mm. It shouldn’t take me too long this time though. Morinozuka will be giving birth soon, so I’ll be making another patch of pain reliever when I get back. How is your wife, Kanamori? Is she feeling well today?”

“Much better, thank you!” Kanamori said. “She would like it if you’d join us for dinner this evening.”

“Oh. I don’t to impose -”

“We insist!”

“....All right. I’ll close up early once the work is finished.”

“Wonderful! See you then, [Last Name]!” Kanamori waved good-bye to the medicine woman as she turned away and headed towards the gates, a large lacquered box strapped to her back.

No, he was not spying on them from behind a building. He just happened to be passing by, nothing more than that!

Honestly, Haganezuka isn’t sure what to make of the medicine woman. She was everywhere now - at Tecchin’s estate, traveling the streets to deliver her client’s prescriptions, with the children, and outside of her shop either watering her potted plants or fiddling with the wind chimes.

He wasn’t sure when it started..when she became a distraction.

After returning to the village once he’d completed a delivery, he began to seek out the medicine woman. He wanted to know what she was doing; organizing her wares, dusting those shelves crammed with glass jars filled with fresh or dry plants? What is she eating for lunch? Does she take regular breaks from her work, or did she keep going until the sun had gone down and went home?

If she wasn’t in town or resting at home, he’d immediately assume she went to the mountains and sit outside the sweets shop, munching on mitarashi dango until he saw she’d returned safely.

And he wasn’t doing all of this because he is worried about an unmarried, young woman who practiced medicine venturing out on her own in a dangerous world teeming with flesh-eating demons. Not at all. Clearly if she can handle almost daily trips to the mountains, she can take care of herself! She doesn’t need anyone to look after her.

That’s what he’s been telling himself, so why won’t this weird feeling in his stomach go away? Maybe he was sick…that had to be it. He couldn’t afford to get sick now, he’s got work to do, dammit!

Looks like he really has no choice but to go to the medicine woman’s shop. Get herbs for whatever ailment he’s caught, and see that she is safe and sound in her establishment today. A win-win situation.

However, even after he’d acquired an herbal remedy and took it twice a day as the medicine woman instructed, that bizarre, flip-flopping in his stomach and heart did not go away. If anything, it got worse when he was around her.

He wanted to put all of the blame on her…yet was it really her fault when she hasn’t done anything wrong? Normally he didn’t give a damn what others thought about him whether they were a respected elder or a snot-nosed kid, so what made [First Name] [Last Name] an exception?

The answer to this question came to him at the sweets shop. He had just finished his work for the day and decided to treat himself with several sticks of freshly made mitarashi dango with a cup of green tea, sitting outside on a bench. When he saw the medicine woman pass by with a weary expression on her face, Haganezuka’s body moved on its own, walking towards her and offering the confectionery he was just about to eat. The exhaustion in her eyes perked up at seeing the food in his hand…then uncertainty.

Like she didn’t want to be a burden and take something from someone, even when that person is willing to do so.

That’s probably what pissed him off so much that he pushed not one but two dango sticks into her hands before stomping away. He’d hoped that would be enough to calm his thumping heart, to forget about the medicine woman so he could focus on his craft, but that soft ‘thank you’ tumbled from her mouth to his ears…damn it!

If that hadn’t been enough to piss him off and send him packing to the mountains the following day, it was when Kanamori pressed five coins in his hand, saying the money was from their mutual friend. It was the equivalent of the mitarashi dango and tea plus enough to buy an additional stick of the sticky confectionery.

What is with that woman?!?

He was familiar with the trail up to the bone-white range of craggy cliffs. He’d first pass two rocks stacked on top of each other, followed by the god of safe travels on the right side of the road. He’d briefly pray to it and leave a pretty stone as an offering before continuing the trek.

He’ll soon see the vast evergreen wilderness stretching from the northeast, the scent of pine needles tickling his nose. Within forty minutes of traversing through the muddy road and wet vegetation, he finally entered the mountain’s gaping mouth. Haganezuka inhaled a deep breath, savoring the crisp air and the mild chill in his bones, already feeling so much better than being confined in the village.

Carefully removing the straps of his traveling bag from his shoulders, Haganezuka set it down on the ground and began pulling out the tools needed to carefully mine the ores he used to forge the nichirin swords for his clients without severely damaging the mountain’s interior. Double checking that he had everything he needed, the swordsmith allowed himself to forget the affairs in the outside world and immediately went to work.

He had only removed five very gorgeous pieces of ores when he heard pebbles shifting and sliding coming from inside the cave…as he recalled, he is the only one here. He paused for a moment, reaiming still as a statue for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, resuming the task of obtaining a sixth ore. He braced himself, ready to stand up and find another spot when he heard a low growl. Thinking it was a bear that had made the noise earlier, the swordsmith braced himself for evasive maneuvers and an escape route as he shifted a leg backwards. But when he looked up…all he could see, no, feel, was warmth. A burning sensation.

Turning around, his eyes widened in horror and confusion as his gaze fell upon the largest lizard he’d ever seen in his entire life. Its obsidian scales glowed beneath the flame that began at the crown of its head to the tip of its tail. Amber orbs flashed dangerously as it stared darkly at him.

For whatever reason, this thing was pissed.

In his shock, he barely managed to dodge a swipe of its claws when it raised its right leg towards him. His clothes weren’t torn, but his mask shattered onto the ground. Haganezuka rolled away to dodge another attack, though this time those claws dug into his back and it fucking hurt.

He pushed his body upwards, scrambling to put some distance between himself and this lizard as the latter crawled towards him, snapping its jaws and the earth beneath its feet melting. He felt his heart hammer rapidly in his chest as its throat began to emit an iridescent glow, growing brighter and brighter behind its rows of razor-sharp teeth.

“Get down!”

He snapped out of his trance, his eyes widening in shock and confusion as he saw the medicine woman race towards him and the lizard. The thing turned around too, its jaws widening and ready to attack when [First Name] threw a small, circular orb with greenish liquid sloshing inside right into the creature’s mouth. It screeched, throwing its head back as thick wisps of black smoke erupted between its teeth, body swaying until it collapsed into a boneless heap on the ground, right by his feet.

Although flushed and slightly out of breath, the medicine woman looked incredibly relieved before she looked at him with a pinched brow, anxiety and concern darkening her eyes as she kneeled by his side, removing the large medicine box from her back, setting it down and began opening its drawers, pulling out bandages, herbs, scissors, and tiny glass vials.

“Thank goodness I made it in time before something happened to you, Haganezuka. Are you alright? Did the salamander bite you? Hm, doesn’t look like it. No damage to your arms or front. Let me see your back. Oh, no. Oh dear, this is not good. I’ll need to use some of this and that, and bandage you up until we get back to the village. Haganezuka, I need you to stay as still as possible for me while I apply this medicine on, all right? It’ll sting, and it might hurt, but that’s a good sign. If the salamander’s claw had dug any deeper, it would’ve been a much more serious injury.”

He couldn’t speak, his eyes darting between her and the…salamander as the confusion in his mind deepened until he couldn’t contain his frustration and yelled, “What the hell is going on here?!”

She blinked, more startled at his raised voice than annoyed or terrified before she sighed, standing up with her supplies and kneeled behind him. “That was a salamander. As you saw, it can breathe fire like the dragons from those Western fairy tales. I’ve put it to sleep with a draught, but there’s no need to worry now. It’ll be out for several hours. Though, in theory they aren’t supposed to even be here. They normally live at a higher altitude in the mountains or make their nests around volcanoes.” She glanced over at the slumbering beast. “The fact there’s one here is alarming. No one from the village will be safe until it can be safely removed….and its babies.”

“Babies?!”

“Mm. The black ones are female. The scales of their mates are much brighter and colorful…no, more ostentatious. Almost like a peacock’s feathers. Beautiful to entice a potential partner in a dance, but not at all durable. Still…the fact that it showed itself to you….it must have wanted you to see something.”

“It wanted me to see something?” He asked, releasing a low hiss as he felt a stinging, white-hot sensation spread across his back. The medicine woman quickly apologized, squeezing his shoulder briefly before resuming her treatment. “Salamanders cannot be seen by normal humans because they are creatures attuned to magic. They’re what you’d call a ‘neighbor’. As for what it wanted you to see…I don’t know.” She said, carefully lowering his shirt once the bandages were secured around the torso. Her brow furrowed in contemplation.

“She might have known you weren’t a threat, but got scared when you were getting too close to her nest. If you respect the neighbors, they will respect you in turn. There. All done. Now, we need to get you out of here. Are you able to walk all right on your own?”

He nodded, standing up immediately before he hissed in pain. “Yeah. By the way…you’re not gonna stay here with this salamander, are you?” He asked. She might have knocked it out with that potion, but he was not going to leave her in the mountain by herself. It would leave a bad taste in his mouth, and Kanamori would get pissed at him for supposedly abandoning the medicine woman when that is far from the truth.

She shook her head. “No. Believe me, I want to help the salamander and its children…but this is a job I can’t do alone. Once we get back to the village, I’ll need to inform Lord Tecchin of the situation and get in contact with a few friends.”

Hagenezuka sighed, running a hand through his bangs when he saw something glistening on the salamander’s right leg. He raised his brow. “Oi. Is that….a chain?” He said. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw [First Name]’s face tense. She walked quickly to where the creature laid on the ground, only to take a step backwards when bright, orange blood began to drip down its scaly appendage. She examined it closely, leaning forward. He watched in confusion as the shine in those [Eye Color] orbs darken. Whatever she saw, he could tell that the medicine woman was angry. This is the first time he’d ever seen her like this.

She then stood up, walking past him, collecting his tools and bags, handing them to him before grabbing her medicine box, hoisting the straps over her shoulders. “We need to go while there’s still daylight left. Salamander blood is highly toxic and as you probably saw, resembles lava. It’ll burn anything it comes in contact with.”

He scowled. He didn’t like being kept in the dark and he knew that this is neither the time nor the place to interrogate the medicine woman. He quickly guided her out of the mountain, following the trail back towards the village. To his surprise, [First Name] went into more detail about these ‘neighbors’. They could not be seen by normal humans, but those that could see them were either chosen to be seen…or selected as its next meal.

The tales about them, the ones that parents told their children to keep out of mischief, held some truth. As she had explained earlier, by respecting the neighbors, they will respect you in return. But the ones who grow in strength by feeding off of negative emotions were the most dangerous ones of all: ayakashi.

She can see and converse with these entities because she is a Sleigh Beggy. The simplest explanation of a Sleigh Beggy is a queen bee, drawing others towards her unintentionally because of the power she possessed. The wind chimes around her shop and home were wards designed to keep out the neighbors and ayakashi. If either of these supernatural entities would try to harm the villagers, it was her job to slay the latter and chase out the former.

As enlightening as this conversation is, Haganezuka only just became more confused. “Right…but what was that shackle doing on the salamander? You said it shouldn’t even be here in the first place. Don’t try to deny it, you were pissed when you saw that thing on its leg.”

He did not miss how her shoulders stiffened nor the quickened pace in her stride. Was she still angry? Or was she nervous? Instead of interrogating her further, he decided to keep his mouth shut and just wait to see if anything happened. Several minutes later, his patience paid off when she inhaled through her nose, exhaling deeply before she shakily answered him.

“That shackle…it was engraved with the crest that I recognize. That salamander was from an illegal auction house. Instead of dealing with rare antiquities or other items that might draw in a very rich nobleman…the auction house sells neighbors. From fairies in the West to mermaids from the oceans, they’ll offer anything their client’s heart desires. But these people aren’t just buying exotic pets to brag about…they’re selling them as magical ingredients for potions, and even weapons to protect their household.”

Haganezuka was torn between feeling sick to his stomach and ready to hit something, but he forced himself to calm down.”And how do you know so much about that auction house?” He asked, gritting his teeth.

She must have misunderstood his anger being directed towards her and not the despicable people would even think about selling these animals, no, neighbors, to the public so long as they could afford it, because she stopped walking. Her face paled, her eyes were wide with anxiety, and she was trembling like a leaf ready to fall off from a branch.

He took a step forward and cupped her cheek, using his thumb to tilt her chin upwards so she’d look at him straight in the eye when she answered him….if she was even ready to do that. As far as she might be concerned, they barely interacted with each other until now. When he noticed the color in her face turn magenta, he felt his own face burn with embarrassment as soon as he remembered his broken mask laid in pieces inside the mountain.

[First Name] swallowed, placing a palm over the hand that was on her face before she whispered softly. “Because…I had been there… as merchandise. I was the last item of the day, ready to be sold to the highest bidder for whoever wanted a new weapon, a new pet…or a bedside companion. I was young. Fourteen, fifteen years old. The one who bought me was my master. He rescued me, gave me a home, and taught me everything I know about the neighbors, the ayakashi, and…things about myself I still hadn’t been ready to accept. It’s thanks to him that I’ve grown to become who I am today, and the people I’ve met along the way…they’re amazing. I never knew that this world was so big, still so full of wonderful things to see and learn even when it may seem like bad karma is around every corner.”

Haganezuka felt his heart twist uncomfortably. She had been through a lot, probably just as much as the Kamado boy and his little sister…no, that wasn’t right nor fair to compare the suffering and the pains that these three have been through, separately or whatever made damned sense. He just…didn’t think that someone who smiled sincerely at others carried the responsibility to protect them from unseen forces beyond their comprehension. He hesitated for only a moment, pulling his hand away from her face to cradle the back of her head while the other palm rested on his left shoulder. He felt [First Name] stiffen at the sudden contact, then sagged against him.

She eventually pushed away, looking at him with a hesitant smile before she nervously rubbed the stone necklace. He watched as she swallowed nervously then turned away from him, trembling fingers starting to rub to the back of her neck.

“Unfortunately, despite my mentor’s immense power, this is something he could never erase. The auction house…they had a very unique tracking system. Even when the merchandise is bought, a tracking spell will be forever embedded even when the customer is satisfied. Think of it as….a fail safe if their purchase ever decided to escape and couldn’t be found by normal magical methods. No matter where I go or how far I was from him, the master would always be able to find me.”

Haganezuka frowned, opening his mouth to ask what she was talking about when the medicine woman pushed up [Hair Color] tresses, revealing an uneven, dark patch of skin shaped like a serpent eating its tail….no. Wait. This wasn’t something caused from being burned by the sun. He realized. This was created by a branding iron. The medicine woman had been marked like livestock.

As if she had lesser rights as a human simply because she had been bought by her master. This had to be the same mark she saw on the salamander’s shackle.

He didn’t know how long he couldn’t breathe or think…whatever he was feeling right now, it felt even more intense than the rage and frustration when he found out that Tanjiro had broken or lost another sword. The only way he had snapped out of it was when he felt [First Name] gently touch his forearm, looking up at him with concern.

Then for the second time today, he hugged her but it didn’t last as long this time. They had to get to the old man, and fast. That was his excuse. Haganezuka didn’t know what the fuck possessed him to act like this but damn it she’d better not breathe a word about this to Kanamori.

Not. A. Word.

[First Name] immediately informed Lord Tecchin of the situation once Haganezuka was left in the care of the elder’s doctor. She had, in so many words, explained there was an unidentified poisonous herb growing inside the mountains. Until she is able to determine its toxicity and create an antidote, it was too dangerous for the other swordsmiths to go there. If they require ores for their work, she will be more than happy to collect what they need so long as they stay in the village for three to five days.

Including Haganezuka, Lord Tecchin is the only other person aware of her true nature though this is only possible…because he had met the master so many years ago, when he had been a foolish and young apprentice. She did not know the extent of their history, only that her master saved Lord Tecchin from a fate worse than death at the hands of a shapeshifting ayakashi.

Now older and wiser, his main priority was the safety of the swordsmiths and their families. Lord Tecchin immediately sent word out to them all to remain within the village until further notice. She thanked him profusely for listening to her selfish request before departing his residence to make the necessary preparations to handle the situation. She’d asked about Haganezuka, but the tiny man reassured her that the ill-tempered swordsmith is in good hands, so there was nothing to worry about.

[First Name] checked on him early the following morning at his workshed before she left the village to meet up with the acquaintances she had contacted to safely relocate the salamander and its babies from the mountains. She did use a little of her magic to speed up his recovery once she finished applying more medicine to the lacerations on his back, and she hoped he never found out the truth about Sleigh Beggys.

The less he knew, the better it would be for both of them.

Haganezuka couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. He had gotten to the market and purchased a gift for the medicine seller with help from Kanamori’s wife. He told them it was because he felt gratitude towards her for helping him in the mountains, but that is it! Nothing more!

He inhaled a deep breath, grateful that he’d been able to find a new mask so that no one could see just how red his face was right now, standing outside of the medicine seller’s shop. He glanced down at the item in his hands. A potted plant with pale pink flowers. She should like them…right?

His grip on it tightened slightly before he stepped forward, pushing the shoji door open. He called out to her, and she heard him, yelling from the back that she’ll be right there. He heard the pitter-patter of sandals tapping against wooden floors, followed by a string of apologies as she stepped into the light, greeting him with a smile. He wouldn’t have minded so much if he hadn’t been caught off guard with how exhausted she looked; dark circles under her eyes, her fingers smeared with ink, and even the front of her pristine apron had seen better days. Is she really all right? She had kept her promise and gotten the salamander relocated to a sanctuary within three days, unless something else was troubling her?

“Sorry about that, Haganezuka. How can I help you today?” She said as if she didn’t look like shit.

He felt his eyelid begin to twitch rapidly. “What the hell is wrong with you?! When’s the last time you slept? Don’t you dare tell me that I work too much on my swords when you look like you’re about to pass out right now! That’s it! Where do you keep tea leaves in this place?!” He immediately began looking around the shop, irritation boiling in his veins as his gaze followed the verdant overgrowth of herbs to a dark wooden cabinet sitting just beneath the window. He scanned the labels on the first shelf, and to his dismay, there were just remedial plants. Nothing that can be used to boil water and make tea for the overworked medicine woman. When he looked back at her, there was a stunned look on her face. Why the fuck did she seem so surprised that someone’s actually worried about her?!

“Why aren't you sitting down yet?!”

“Haganezuka, there are no chairs to sit in here except for the back of the shop, which serves as my workstation.” [First Name] replied softly with a small smile. “I’m still studying the effects of the salamander’s blood samples that I collected, and I’m quite close to producing an antidote. I appreciate your concern, Haganezuka, and I promise I’ll make myself some tea when I go home tonight.”

He pouted behind his mask. Suppose that is fair. He’d never eat or drink in his workshed unless he sat outside on the veranda with sticks of his precious mitarashi dango, which itself was a rare moment of relaxation for him. Instead of trying to argue with her further, he just held up the pot for her to take. He felt his heart race at seeing her smile widen, stretching her small hands and taking the gift from him…

Chink.

His eyes immediately went to her wrist, where he saw the pieces of a jade bracelet crumbled onto the floor. [First Name]’s eyes widened before her complexion turned a sickly green, her hands trembling rapidly before they loosened their grip on the potted plant. It shattered immediately upon impact, soil and flowers flung in different directions as she lurched forward, hands coming to her mouth as blood spilled between her fingers. She pulled her palms away, looking up at the blood dripping from them in shock before staring at him.

“Huh?”

He watched in horror as she fell backwards and he immediately sprung towards her, barely managing to catch the medicine woman before she landed on the floor. He carefully lowered them to the ground. With one hand cradling the back of her head and the other around her waist, he shouted at her. “Oi, [Last Name], [Last Name]! [First Name]?! Answer me, dammit, this isn’t funny! [First Name]!”

Haganezuka stiffened when he received no answer from the medicine woman. Heart hammering in his ears and sweat beginning to form on his brow, he shakily inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled with his mouth. As he performed this calming method, he replayed the sound that wind chimes made in his mind for several moments until he could think clearly. He steadied himself, knees bending slowly as he lifted himself and [First Name] off of the ground. He turned, ready to bolt to Doctor Adashino’s hut but his feet stopped moving when he saw a figure blocking the shop’s entrance.

It was a boy, probably no older than fifteen summers, with lightly tanned skin and black hair with bright green eyes peeking from under sweeping bangs. He was dressed in different shades of charcoal, as if he were conjured from the darkness itself; from the yukata that draped over his broad shoulders to the socks and geta sandals on his feet. The swordsmith did not know why but there was something about this brat that rubbed him the wrong way.

“What do you want?” Haganezuka snapped, pulling the medicine woman closer to his body. The stranger didn’t seem to notice him, instead he gazed sadly at [First Name], sighing forlornly.

“You’ve done it again, haven’t you my dear?” He murmured. “You do have a way of causing chaos, even when you have the best intentions in mind for those around you. When will you become selfish and worry about yourself first?” Shaking his head, the boy turned his gaze to him, eyes glowing in the darkness of the shop. “Give me the child.”

Haganezuka felt his left eye twitch. “What?”

“I do not have time to squabble nor do I wish to waste my energy on you,” The stranger snapped, pointing at [First Name]. “She has collapsed from magical overexertion. She must be treated immediately, or her chances of survival will grow thinner. Sleigh Beggy children are not as strong as they used to be.”

A tremor of shock blitzed through his body at the stranger’s words, though thankfully it wasn’t so obvious with his mask on. “How do you know who she is?” He demanded, his mind scrambling with anxiety and memories he could barely recall in this situation, what he’d learned from the medicine woman when they walked away from the mountains that day. “You can’t be a demon. They can’t roam freely in the sunlight as apparently you’re able to, you’re not drooling at the sight of her blood, and they don’t know anything about Sleigh Beggys. Or ayakashi. They can’t be seen by others unless they want to be seen. So who are you? Are you a neighbor, some spirit that pities her? Or are you someone else?”

“Watch your tongue, boy -”

“Where did you buy her?” Haganezuka asked suddenly. The stranger went silent, raising a brow. “When and how did you find out what she is? Did she ask for her freedom or was that bought too?” The swordsmith said, firing question after question. The stranger looked at him with an expression of exasperation and annoyance, his eyes flashing yellow for only a brief moment.

“For a mere human who had survived the salamander’s wrath, you’re quite arrogant, but fine. I’ll play along.” He said. “I found out who she was from the moment she stepped onto the stage of the Fleeting Petals auction house in Kyoto’s business district, just when spring had arrived. A respectable antique shop during the day, and once a year, the only place in this country where you can find more than enough items to start a private army or create your own harem, whatever suited the customer’s desires so long as the money rolled in to pay the price. She was the evening’s final item, and I had gotten into a bidding war with two other contenders for her. An alchemist from the East, and a samurai. Both wanted a weapon, I needed an apprentice. It is through me that she knows everything about the ayakashi and medicine.” He crossed his arms. “Is that enough? Give me the child, now.”

Haganezuka ran his tongue over his bottom lip, heart quickening. There is no doubt that this is the master who had bought [First Name]’s freedom. How else would this bastard answer his questions so flawlessly, or even know where she is? The mark on her neck has magic that makes it easy for him to track her down, and it was the one thing he could not remove with all of the powers he possessed. When the shop suddenly became darker, he glanced around, and felt himself grow pale. On the wooden wall closest to him was a looming, horned shadow whose body stretched all the way to the ceiling. It stared down at him with luminous, bone-white orbs.

No. He didn’t want to give her away. He didn’t want her to go -

He yowled when the shadow suddenly peeled itself from the ceiling, grabbing the medicine woman from his arms before turning towards the master. Now cradling his apprentice close to him even when it looked absolutely bizarre for a child to carry a grown woman, bright green eyes stared at him.

“I don’t know why she has revealed her secret to you…but you must be something special. Regardless, she will return home with me. You will look after her house while we’re gone. No, I cannot tell you when she will return. This is the length of my generosity, human. Do not disappoint me.” The master and [First Name] were suddenly enveloped in billowing clouds of smoke, disappearing from Haganezuka’s sight.

It was only a moment later that the swordsmith realized there was a sudden eruption of noise coming from outside, people chattering and some distant echo of hammers slamming against metal.

The front door had been opened this whole time.

Taglist:

@saltyfruitbat

@13rurururi

@myrisan-melodies

@praisethesuuun

@sketchlove

#chise!reader #an idyllic novelist #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x female reader #kny x reader #kny headcanons #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #hotaru haganezuka demon slayer #hotaru haganezuka #hotaru haganezuka x reader #ancient magus bride #collaboration #collab work #mahoutsukai no yome #kny haganezuka #kny au

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starsfic · 1 month

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Way Home (Blocked)

So I've been tossing around some TADC fic ideas, including one where Pomni sacrifices herself to make sure that everyone else gets home first. Then I started re-reading some comics by @blorbosinmyheadcentral like this one, and got more inspired, especially with some theories about Abel floating around my head.

This is what I ended up with, please don't ask questions, sorry if it's confusing

-_-

"Pomni, please..."

Ragatha gripped her hand tight, eyes wide and full of terror. The way home glimmered around her like a beacon, the rag doll already one foot inside. Pomni could see hands, unfamiliar hands, gripping Ragatha to make sure she didn't follow Pomni.

The world was falling apart.

Pomni should've asked more questions, should've asked what the A stood for in C&A. The C hovered behind her, frantically coding, trying to prevent the world from collapsing before she could step through that EXIT door, now actually an exit. It felt like a cruel joke.

Pomni had just wanted to help. She had been happy to help Caine understand more about humans and how they felt, help him learn how to reach out, screaming to the world that the people missing for years were here, trapped. People had listened, and now they were getting home-

Except Able refused.

Pomni felt something jerk on her, deep inside her code, and she cried out as she felt her grip loosen. Ragatha cried out as well, releasing the doorframe and trying to grip her harder even as her feet frantically slipped. "AGGIE-!" What sounded like Kinger yelled, his voice distorted by the portal. A face began to poke through, grip Ragatha harder even as she began to slip-

It was now or never.

"Ragatha," Pomni said, hoping her voice didn't shake. "Ragatha, thank you so much. I am so sorry for what happened on my first day," Ragatha's eyes went wide. "I promise I'll find my own way home. Caine and me..." She heard a gasp from behind, probably Caine realizing the situation. He had insisted on her, his favorite, going through first, except she had refused. "We'll figure out a way, I promise."

Ragatha's eyes filled with tears. "No, don't you dare, P-"

She was already letting go.

The last thing she heard was "WE'LL FIND YOU!" as the door slammed shut. Darkness overtook cherry red, just as it had overtaken the calming blue of the Void. Pomni flew, desperately trying not to throw up, heads over heels-

She crashed into something.

Her revulsion at being touched rose up, but she bit down on it. Instead, she pressed herself close to Caine, trying to pretend like it was a normal day. Caine had gotten better at boundaries, but sometimes when he got excited, he couldn't help but manhandle her, something she found charming after a bit.

If she just pretended like everything was fine, like everyone had for years, she could survive this.

Caine would make sure of this.

#TADC #The Amazing Digital Circus #Pomni #Ragatha #Caine #Kinger #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #TADC Pomni #TADC Ragatha #TADC Caine #Showtime #it's background and mostly if you squint #my writing

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witcher-and-henry-cavill-stuff · 7 months

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Fragments of a Broken Heart: Geralt x Reader

The morning dawned, casting a harsh light upon the empty side of the bed. As y/n stirred awake, a sense of unease settled in their chest. Their hand instinctively reached out, searching for Geralt's comforting presence, but all they found were cold, abandoned sheets. Confusion and dread washed over them, and their gaze fell upon a letter resting on the bedside table, a silent harbinger of the pain that awaited.

With trembling hands, y/n clutched the letter tightly, their heart pounding in their ears. The words within held the power to shatter their world, and as they began to read, tears welled up in their eyes, blurring the inked lines that would forever change their lives.

My Dearest Y/N,

As the sun rises on this new day, I find myself compelled to set forth on a path that does not include you by my side. The weight of my choice bears heavily upon my conscience, yet I cannot deny the pull of destiny that binds me to Yennefer.

I have tried to fight it, to resist the allure of her enchanting presence, but her hold on my heart is unyielding. I cannot turn away from the connection we share, the deep bond that has been forged over time.

I know not how to apologize for the pain my departure will cause you, for the void that will fill your days. But I implore you to understand that this decision was not made lightly. The complexities of love and fate have brought us to this crossroads, and I am compelled to follow the path that calls to me.

I leave you now in the tavern, alone and adrift. It is not a fate I would wish upon anyone, yet it is the consequence of my choice. May you find solace and support among the strangers who pass through, for they will be your companions in the days to come.

Please know that my departure does not diminish the love we once shared. The memories we created together will forever hold a place within my heart. But in this moment, I must prioritize my own happiness, even if it comes at the cost of yours.

I wish you well, Y/N, and hope that time will heal the wounds inflicted by my absence. May you find love and joy in a future that is no longer intertwined with mine.

With a heavy heart, Geralt

With each word, a fragile piece of their heart crumbled, until the weight of the letter became unbearable. They held it close to their chest, as if trying to hold onto the remnants of the love they once shared. The tears streamed down their face, intermingling with the inked confessions of Geralt's choice.

A scream of anguish erupted from deep within Y/n's soul, tearing through the silence of the room. It was a raw, primal release of pain, a cathartic burst of emotion that echoed through the empty space. They cried out, their voice laced with heartbreak as if the sheer force of their screams could turn back time, undo the devastation that had been wrought upon their love.

Their cries reverberated through the room, the sound a haunting melody of despair. With each sob and wail, they expelled the anguish that threatened to consume them, their body shaking uncontrollably. The weight of betrayal, loss, and abandonment hung heavy in the air, mingling with the echoes of their shattered dreams.

As the waves of grief subsided, the reader crumpled to the floor, their body trembling with exhaustion. They clung to the letter, their knuckles turning white as they held onto the tangible remnants of their pain. The room felt hollow, a cavernous void that mirrored the emptiness in their heart.

Yet, even in the depths of their despair, a flicker of resilience bloomed within the reader's broken spirit. Through tear-stained eyes, they gazed upon the letter one last time, silently vowing to forge a path forward from the ruins of their shattered love.

With trembling hands, they released their grip on the letter, allowing it to flutter softly to the ground. Their tears became a bittersweet testament to the depth of their emotions, and as they took a steadying breath, they resolved to rebuild their life, to find solace and strength within their own being.

In time, y/n would rise from the ashes of their pain, their cries transforming into expressions of growth and empowerment. They would seek healing, leaning on the support of trusted allies and discovering the resilience that lay dormant within them.

As they stepped out into the world, y/n carried with them the fragments of a broken heart, their tears now mingling with a newfound determination. They would find their own path, reclaiming their worth and embracing the possibility of a future where love and happiness were not defined by Geralt's presence.

And as they walked away from the echoes of their screams, they set forth on a journey of self-discovery, knowing that in time, they would find a love that would cherish and value them, a love that would never leave them alone in the depths of a desolate tavern.

#henry cavill imagine #witcher x reader #against #imagine #one shot #henry cavill one shot #x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #henry cavill x reader #witcher imagine #yennefer of vengerberg #Heart break

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iamyoursonly · 2 months

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The ghost inside me (17/02/2024)

I may not be active again for awhile because it’s almost the end of the holidays and school will be back :(( This is a story I wrote when I felt really confused and didn’t know what to do so, if you ever felt the same, I think you’ll like it.

Sometimes I feel like there is a ghost lurking inside of me, like it wants to devour me starting with drinking all my positivity away. It’s like a shadow that you can see but cannot touch, one that just follows you through every step of your life, unconditionally. But this time, in a bad way. It’s feels like I have lost touch over everything, and there are no ‘sparks’ between anything that comes in my way, no matter my hobbies, my favourite people or even my comfort show. I couldn’t even feel the tears leaking past the boundaries of my eyes. I just sit there, emotionless, just like a puppet put up for show, questioning myself, ‘Who even am I?’

I breathe as I walk down the streets while I was on a midnight stroll, the wind feeling extra chilly in Autumn made me shiver. Even so. I kept on walking. I held on a can on alcohol, talking big sips out of the can, just trying to stop myself from feeling numb. I couldn’t feel anything despite my stomach burning in opposition. I just kept on drinking, until I felt like I could see that ghost inside of me come out.

“What do you want from me?” I ask it, trying to maintain my posture and a proper mind.

It just looked at me, its glance chilly and cold as ever. Like it’s staring into my soul and was trying to eat me whole. Its existence alone was enough to make me freeze and not ask more.

“What do you want from me?” I repeat, hoping it would respond. But its gaze still cold as ever, and all I could see was its eyes. Black, so black like it was reflecting the depth of the sadness within me. The overwhelming amount of feelings inside me started to explode as tears started gushing out of my eyes. I cried my heart out until the streets echoed my cries.

The ghost walked over to me, its steps heavy yet it can’t be heard at all, only its footsteps can be seen on the wet concrete. As if it could understand my feelings, it wrapped its arms around me, hugging me tight, just like how a parent would while comforting their child. Yes, that’s what it feels like right now. Like future me telling me everything will turn out fine and I will be okay.

I cried and cried, but the tears only fell through it as I try to return its warm embrace.

“Who are you?” I croak out, my voice hoarse and heart sore. Then I just attempt to scream out all my pain and sorrow into nothingness, into a black void no one could reach. Though the ghost’s stare is cold, its embrace is warm and soothing… How I wish to be held by someone like that.

I lie down on the concrete, tired eyes looking up into the darkness of the night. I could feel the ghost do the same as me, it holding my hand as we lie in silence. I didn’t say anything, we were just enjoying each other’s calm serenity, our calming atmospheres. I almost dozed off after lying down for so long, why is the feeling of home lying within the ghost, one so mysterious I can’t even learn anything about it.

“Who are you?” I ask again, my tears have stopped, though my mascara has been ruined already.

It still did not respond, its eyes just looked into mine, as if it were exploring mine, and uncovering my deepest secrets and insecurities. The terrifying silence seemed like it was wrapping around us, but I loved every moment of it.

Being alone and feeling alone are two different things, I believe. Being alone is like when I am actually alone, but feeling alone is when I am in a crowd but I still feel like no one is around me. And I feel alone. Not because I have no one around me, but because I have no one that understands me, no one that I can truly trust and confide in. Sometimes I don’t know if I want to be in love or do I just like the feeling of love. Is it just for me to numb away all the loneliness and to drive away all this soreness in my body and soul?

As I sit straight on the ground, tired from all the lying down. I feel the cold on my legs as I slowly try to stand up. I took a breathy sigh as I looked up again, checking if the stars are still around. They were, of course, still shining brighter than ever. The view of the night sky was simply divine to spectate when alone, and most importantly with a can of alcohol. I spin around a few times, twirling my knee length dress as I try to dance. I sang so loud I feel like people would file a noise complaint against me. But who cares? I was having so much fun!

“You have definitely had too much to drink.” I hear a voice, then footsteps nearing. The ghost near me seemed like it disappeared, leaving me again in the terrifying loneliness.

“Wait!” I try to call out to the ghost. The cold wind blew as if it was never there, and I felt alone again.

“Love,” The voice called again, then I feel them put their jacket onto my shoulders. Oh this scent, I remember it oh so well. It only belonged to my one and only, and he was so beautiful I swear. “How are you feeling, my love?”

His blue eyes as if reflecting the beauty of the sea looked into mine. And I just stared right back at him, just like what the ghost did to me. I have never noticed how much detail there is in his eyes, the blue may have been alluring at first glance, but after a lot of searching into it, you could see its sorrow inside. He reminded me of the ghost just now, the amount of sorrow in their eyes seemed the same, and how they both make me feel like I was home.

“Hey,” I looked at him and finally smiled, “What’re you doing here?”

Instead of drowning in loneliness, I wish I could drown in his arms, his touch, and his love. His eyes captivating, like he could draw all the attention in a club just because he walked in. And his white hair, it was so unique I wish I could have that… But I guess I can’t.

“You’re so gorgeous,” I tell him, “I wish I could have that kind of beauty.”

He chuckled, and then played with strands of my hair, “You’re even more beautiful, I swear. You’re just saying all this because you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not, I’m serious.” I tell him, then he smiles even more, pulling me into a hug.

After a long pause of silence, where I just let him embrace me, trying to remove myself from this feeling of being alone. He was helping though, he didn’t even make a sound, and just hugged me tight. His smell filling my lungs. I swear even the ghost inside me could feel warm just from this scent of his. That’s how intoxicating it is.

“Satoru.” I whisper, he hums in reply, “Remind me why do you love me again?”

He laughed, then rolled his eyes playfully as if he was trying to be sarcastic, “Do I not make it obvious enough for your liking?” That smirk on his face when he said this made everything very vivid in my head. His scent, his gaze… All of it. He was definitely trying to make me flustered, though I’m not letting him win.

He starts speaking again, “Well to start with I really love your smile, your beauty and your features. Also the way your eyes brighten when you do something you enjoy, and the way you laugh even though you fail. I love how you are so humble towards everything and try not to burden anyone with your problems. Though I’m right here for you, love. And then it’s just you, you’re literally perfect. Even the way you sing so loudly in the shower. I should say I don’t deserve you because of how amazing you actually are.” He pauses, and I took in his words. Then he continues, “Butterflies can’t see how beautiful they are either, and I’m just one of the flowers for this beautiful butterfly.”

He smiles at me, that contagious smile put a smile on my face too. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud uncontrollably. It was so unexpected but really genuine.

“Stop laughing would you?” He said with a very visible blush on his face, “Let’s just get you home, yeah?”

I nodded and he held my hand so tight like he had no intention of letting go of me. We just trailed down slowly down the road, the wind continued blowing towards us. I skipped and skipped then almost tripped, though there was nothing to worry about because my big strong man is with me. For a second, I felt like a fairytale princess, but I felt bad about leaving all my sorrow behind with the ghost.

I grabbed his arm, leading him to stop for a second, “I just wanted to bid my ghost goodbye. Can you wait for a second?” He didn’t object, so I just walked back to where I first sat down, and the shadow was there again. Though this time its eyes were less dull, it had this little shine somewhere inside. “Bye bye.” I waved, and it waved back, as if it was happy that I have found my own pillar of joy. I walked back to Satoru, and he held my hand as we walked home.

Despite it was so late there was barely any light source, the joy within me while walking with Satoru seemed like the lighthouse for going home. The joy reflected in his and my eyes led the road back home. Just from this I knew that he’s the one for me, and that we could overcome any difficulties in life together. Because all I could do when I am around him, is smile.

I walked home only by myself, but I arrived home with another person, one that I love and treasure so much.

master list

#jujutsu kaisen #drabble #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo and you #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #gojo x y/n #alone with my thoughts #loneliness #im sad

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simpforbutchwomen · 9 months

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May I ask for a one shot of Junker Queen’s fem! S/O comforting her after another one of her nightmares? Like the one she had in her cinematic, about her past during the wastelands! I adore how you write Junkerqueen <3

'Nightmares' Junker Queen x Fem!Reader

hope this is okay <3 !

tw: Death, Depictions of death

' "Take 'em out, the kids don't need to see me like this." Her fathers voice echoed in the chambers of her mind. Everything hurt.

All she could see was her father, looking dreadfully.. ill...

Recurring memories of being exiled waved in and out. The pain, sorrow, and confusion were ever so present in her mind.

Echo's of her parent's pleading rang loudly in her ears before she had come to the realization of what was happening before her eyes.

Her father was dying. She didn't quite know how, or why, but she could tell. Could it have been the lack of food... or perhaps the ever present radiation. Heat exhaustion perhaps.

Odessa hadn't noticed that her other siblings had been swiftly shooed out of the room by her mother.

She felt a hand rest upon her shoulder, turning her head upwards to see her mother. Everything became blurry...everything except the stream of tears pouring down her mothers face.

Odessa snapped her head towards her father, skin puffy and yellow. Eyes bloodshot and lips pale.

Rapidly he began to decline becoming more pale, veins more prominent. His eyes sunken in and grey, drooping down.

Terrified she turned back only to be met with screams.

"I just hope that the youngin's are old enough to remember me." That echoed in her ears as visions of death and decay flashed before her eyes. It was all moving so fast.

The void surrounded her and all that was in her vision was her fathers corpse. Every little detail enhanced. No matter where she turned or look it's all she could see. Odessa fell to the ground covering her ears with her tiny hands, eyes sealed shut trying to shut the visions out. '

You woke up to the sound of Odessa gasping for breath. Her face looking distraught, eyes sealed shut and eyebrows furred together. Her chest heaving up and down, struggling to breath.

You sat up, brushing the hair out of your eyes before shaking her. "Dez?" you whispered. "Dez, love, wake up." you continued to shake her. You could hear grunts coming from her as she tossed her head to the side.

You persisted on, attempting to wake her up. "Odessa." you spoke louder. "It was all my fault!' She shot straight up, her hands covering her head.

You scooted your frame closer to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulder. "Dez, sweetheart, it was just a nightmare. It's okay." She was drenched in sweat, yet shivering at the same time.

This was unfortunately a reoccurring thing for her. Some nights were better than others. Most of the time she would just jolt up out of bed and head out for a smoke to clear her head before coming back to bed. Other nights, much like this one, was a completely different story.

You leaned in, giving her a kiss on the cheek. You could feel hot streams of tears coming down, gliding across your skin. It was rare to see her cry. Extremely rare.

Her breathing calmed down slowly. She brought her hands up to her eyes to wipe away her tears before letting out a sigh. "It's alright love...I'm fine. You should go back to sleep."

She pulled away from your hold, scooting towards the edge of the bed before standing up. You looked up towards her, worry filling your mind. You couldn't stand when she pulled the ' I'm fine ' stunt. She clearly wasn't.

Dez stretched her shoulders a bit before reaching into her nightstand drawer, grabbing a cigarette and her lighter. She swiftly headed out of the room, gently pulling the door shut behind her. You got up out of bed, rubbing your eyes. You checked the clock sitting on the bedside table, ' 4 : 00 AM '. You let out a sigh before heading out of the room to hunt her down.

It didn't take long to find her. You walked up behind her, about to sit down before she spoke "I thought I told you I'm fine."

"Your not." you kneeled down behind her, wrapping your arms around her torso. You heard the flick of her lighter, feeling her chest rise with the inhale of smoke. You buried your face into her back, feeling the warmth radiating against your cold face. "It's not your fault Dez....none of it was."

"Sure as hell feels like it was." she said before taking another puff. You crawled over to her side, resting your head against her shoulder. "I thought you couldn't stand the smell of these things?" she questioned before flicking the buds to the ground. "I can't. I hate that you smoke but I'm not here to lecture you."

"Well that's a first from you Y/N." she chuckled softly before putting the rest of her cigarette out into the pavement. "Your parents would be proud of you....you know?" . You felt her tense up after you spoke. "I love you Y/N." She said, leaning he head on yours. "I love you too Dez." You two sat outside for a while in silence. Looking up at the stars. She grabbed your hand, rubbing your soft skin with her thumb.

"Do you think you will be able to get back to sleep?" you asked, hoping the answer would be yes. She needed sleep, it was a miracle she had gotten as much as she did. "I'll at least try, if not do you reckon you'd stay up with me?" You smiled, leaning up to give her a soft kiss. "I'll stay up for days if you need me too, Dez."

#junker queen x reader #junker queen #overwatch imagine #odessa stone #i'm sleep deprived so if there's any errors please excuse me #@-@

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kimeow7 · 7 months

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Eternal Shadows ch.4

Eternal Shadows (m) Chapter 4. The God

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Rating: Mature (18+) Please do not read if you are underage.

Word Count: 3323

Incomes YOONGI! Long chapter and we have reached "The God"

Warnings: Hospital. Talks about death. Mentions of gods, angels, and demons, not diving into any specific religions, and maybe just mixing several believes. Some mentions of anxiety, a poor attempt at humor, and 'Lilith Yoongi' That's a warning on its own.

If you are uncomfortable reading this story please refrain from doing so. Warnings will change according to the chapters.

Again this chapter hasn't been revised. The grammar might be off and certainly, I am not a medical professional so the descriptions of the procedures and the hospital itself are simply based on watching way too much Grey's Anatomy. ¯\(°_o)/¯

Also, the way of speaking of Yoongi changes from sounding ancient, or my attempt in making him sound like it, to normal... it is intended to give the character that feels of "Eternal".... Some scenes also feel -at least for me- a bit repetitive, but it all makes sense... I think. I doubt myself too much, but either way i want to put it out there hoping that there's someone who can enjoy my gibberish.

Enjoy. :)

And Thank you for reading.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are used as inspiration for the characters in this story. However, this is a work of fiction and should not be seen as a projection, representation, or judgment of the real-life individuals. The scenarios and representations depicted in this story are entirely fictional and do not aim to convey any aspects of real life.

Chapter 3 Masterlist

"Who are you?" you wondered, your eyes still tightly shut.

This must be a dream, another one of those hallucinations, you repeat to yourself like a mantra, attempting to steady your racing heart.

"I am your savior," a low voice replied. "Come on, open your eyes and look at me."

Shaking your head, you clutched the thin fabric even closer to your face.

The man chuckled, his deep laughter almost resembling a growl. "Little doll, I have no intention of hurting you. Quite the opposite, I assure you."

"You're not real. You... my tumor is creating you. You're not real!" you exclaimed loudly.

"Wrong," he responded.

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of his touch on your cheek. What should have sent shivers of fear down your spine instead felt like a compassionate caress, comforting and inviting. So much so that you instinctively tilted your face to prolong the contact.

"Who are you?" you asked once more.

"I am here to either take your life or give it back to you. Those are your only two options," he replied, his hand still resting gently on your cheek.

You wanted to scream; you were terrified, yet strangely comforted. A thick fog of confusion enveloped your mind.

You tried to recollect your previous encounters with this mysterious being, whether a creation of your mind or something more. He had always mentioned the same thing: the ability to return your life to you. And then you remembered "Your condition... what is it?" he had told you. He could grant your wish, but on one condition Now, you wondered what that condition might be.

You heard him chuckle again, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. But these shivers were not of fear; they were of a different, a very unfamiliar sensation.

"Impatient little thing," he mocked.

Desperation washed over you. If he was real, if he was some sort of demon or magical creature, it felt as though he was toying with you now, as if his sole purpose was to torment and play with your emotions. With these thoughts racing through your mind, your eyes flew open.

You were still in the hospital bed, the man sitting beside you on the same chair. However, the rest of the room seemed to have vanished, swallowed by darkness. You found yourself surrounded by an inky void, with only you and him existing in this eerie space. You locked eyes with him.

"What do you want from me?" you yelled, your voice filled with both fear and defiance.

The man wore a devilish smirk on his lips. "I knew I was going to like you," he said, causing you to furrow your brow at his words. He chuckled deeply once more before getting up and taking slow, deliberate steps away from you. The sound of his shoes hitting the floor seemed normal, except for a faint wet noise that muffled it. This was all too strange.

Raising his hand, a table materialized in front of him, accompanied by a pitcher of what appeared to be water and a clear glass. He filled the cup with the liquid and approached you slowly. "Drink," he insisted. "You're thirsty."

"I'm not going to drink that," you refused, your voice filled with skepticism.

"It's just water," he assured.

"How can I trust you? You won't give me any answers, won't tell me—" you began, but the man sighed and dropped the cup. You expected to hear the shattering of glass and the splashing of water, but nothing happened.

"Yoongi. The name you should know is Min Yoongi," he pointed to himself, and you repeated the name, silently mouthing the words. "Although I have gone by different names throughout many centuries, eras, and cultures, for you, I am Min Yoongi."

Confused, you furrowed your brow. "W-what are you?"

Yoongi chuckled deeply once more. "A god, a villain, an angel, a demon, and many others in between. But for you, little doll, I'm just Yoongi."

Yoongi.

Looking around, confusion still clouds your mind, and you remain uncertain about whether this is just another hallucination or if reality is truly hitting you. The once bright hospital room is now shrouded in darkness, creating a surreal atmosphere that leaves you bewildered.

"Where am I? Is this a dream?" you inquire once again. Tentatively, you move your arms, feeling the tangible reality around you. The thin fabric of the hospital sheet brushes against your skin, the pain from the IV needle throbs in your hand, and even the cold breeze from the air conditioning reaches your senses. It can't possibly be a dream, can it? Could your brain conjure up such vivid details?

"Not a dream," Yoongi responds, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nod grateful that he is finally providing some answers, even if they only serve to deepen your confusion. "Am I dead?" The thought lingers in your mind, fueled by Yoongi's mention of angels, demons, and gods. Perhaps you have passed away, and Yoongi is simply the grim reaper. It would make some sense, wouldn't it?

"Not dead either. Not asleep, nor awake. Somewhere in between," he explains.

Frowning, you admit, "I don't understand." Yoongi nods and chuckles softly, moving his hand to rest on your shoulder. The weight of his touch, the warmth of his skin—it all feels undoubtedly real.

"Come with me," he urges, causing further confusion to cloud your thoughts.

"Where do I go?" you ask, lifting the sheet from your body, and preparing to stand up. But Yoongi gently pushes you back down.

"Just your soul, darling. Accept me, surrender yourself to me, and follow me," Yoongi responds, his voice sweet and inviting.

"How?" you inquire, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

"Take my hand and let go of doubt. I'm here for you, whether you're alive or dead. I'm here for you," he reassures.

If this is a dream, you tell yourself, you'll be able to wake up. If it's not... Well, what could go wrong? After all, you are one step closer to death with every passing minute. With this realization, you reach out and grasp Yoongi's hand, and a smile graces his lips.

Suddenly, you feel an intense pull, so strong that it immediately pulls you into Yoongi's embrace. Your hands rest on his chest as his arms envelop your fragile frame.

"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, a mix of apprehension and curiosity coursing through you.

In an instant, the darkness transforms, and the bright hospital lights reappear, You turn around, only to see yourself lying in the hospital bed, eyes closed, machines beeping incessantly. Confusion floods your mind once more as you gaze at the doctors and nurses scurrying around.

"Doctor Kim?" you call out, seeking answers. You observe their frantic movements and hear their voices, but it's all a blur.

"We are in the in-between. You have fallen into a deep sleep. Your doctor is trying to figure out what's happening. You are in no danger, my dearest. I promise you this," Yoongi explains, his voice filled with reassurance.

You contemplate the reality before you, your physical body lying in the hospital bed while your soul remains in Yoongi's grasp.

"What's going to happen now?" you inquire, unsure of what to make of Yoongi, still uncertain about his true nature.

"Now, we shall discuss my terms, and you can make your decision. Agreed?" Yoongi's tender smile reassures you, and you respond with a nod. "Good girl," he murmurs, his left hand rising as his fingers interlock with a resounding clash. Suddenly, everything around you freezes— the doctor, the nurses, the incessant beeping. All movement comes to a halt, and Yoongi releases his hold on you. His hand gestures conjure a chair out of thin air. "Please, have a seat, dearest," he invites, and you obediently walk towards the chair, quickly taking your place.

You gaze at Yoongi, taking in his appearance. Only now do you notice the subtle changes in the way he is dressed. In the elevator, he had on a don sleek, elegant suit. During his second visit, your memory is hazy, but you recall him in a simple white dress shirt. Now, however, he exudes a more mystical aura. Clad in black leather pants and a satin or silk black blouse, adorned with silver jewelry on his ears and neck, he dons a cloak that adds an air of enchantment to his presence. He appears mystical, magical, and undeniably dangerous.

As Yoongi effortlessly conjures another chair, a sense of awe washes over you. This chair, unlike the one you are currently seated on, is larger and grander, exuding an air of royalty. It stands in stark contrast to your humble seat, almost as if it belongs in a different realm altogether. The sheer opulence of the throne-like chair captivates your attention, drawing your eyes to its intricate design. The wood is adorned with exquisite carvings, each stroke telling a story of its own., The rich deep red velvet cushion beckons you, promising comfort fit for a king or queen.

At this moment, you can't help but feel a pang of insignificance. Your simple chair, reminiscent of those hastily set up at corporate events, appears feeble and unremarkable in comparison. It's as though the stark contrast between the two chairs symbolizes a looming judgment about to be passed upon you.

"Nothing like that," Yoongi quickly dismisses, his voice laced with humility. "This is not a throne, for I am not worthy of such grandeur. I am merely a pawn in a much greater game." His words strike a chord within you, resonating with a sense of vulnerability.

A surge of curiosity and astonishment fills your being as you gaze into his eyes, searching for answers. "You read my mind?" you ask, unable to conceal your astonishment.

A knowing smile plays upon Yoongi's lips as he nods gently. "I see it all," he admits, his voice carrying the weight of ancient wisdom. "Your dreams, your nightmares, your deepest desires, and even your darkest curses. They are all laid bare before me."

As his words sink in, a mix of wonder and trepidation courses through your veins. The realization that Yoongi possesses the ability to delve into the depths of your consciousness leaves you both intrigued and vulnerable. It is as if he holds a key to unlock the most intimate corners of your soul, a power that both fascinates and unnerves you.

"You are like... omnipotent?" you ask, your voice tinged with a mix of awe and curiosity.

Yoongi's lips curl into a smirk once again, his finger lightly brushing against his bottom lip. His demeanor seems to shift, almost appearing shy for a moment. "You could say so, yes," he responds, his voice carrying a hint of mystery. "I possess a series of abilities, and while I am indeed eternal, I am not immortal."

The revelation leaves you momentarily speechless as you consider the implications. "So, you are a god?" you question, seeking clarification.

He chuckles softly, the sound carrying a sense of nostalgia. "A god, perhaps, yes" he muses. "There are several others like me. It has been many yesterdays since someone called me by that name."

The realization that Yoongi is not just an ordinary being, but a being with god-like powers, fills the air with an aura of enchantment. You find yourself in the presence of something beyond mortal comprehension, an entity that has witnessed countless ages and is now sharing its presence with you. It makes you feel somewhat special. Yet confused even more.

"What do you want from me then?" you wonder aloud. You can't help but question why someone like you, who is not particularly special or remarkable in any way, has been chosen for this encounter. Even your current condition, though unfortunate with the looming presence of a brain tumor, doesn't make you stand out among the many other humans out there. So, you find yourself pondering the reason behind it all.

"Call it fate, or maybe I'm just a bit bored with the routine. I don't know," Yoongi chuckles, his amusement evident. "I say fate, but I wouldn't attribute our encounter solely to my brother."

"Your brother? Fate... your brother is fate?" you ask, seeking clarification.

Yoongi nods, his expression serious. "One of the other... gods, as you would call us. Fate, or as I personally know him, Hoseok. I would like to believe that he didn't meddle in my affairs, but I can't be completely certain."

The revelation that Yoongi's brother is intertwined with the concept of fate adds another layer of intrigue to your conversation. Gods. Fate. It all feels like a whirlwind of surrealism, a tale that surpasses even the wildest fantasies you've ever encountered in books. Your mind is brimming with so many questions, and a thirst for understanding that seems insatiable.

"How many gods exist out there?" you inquire, your voice filled with curiosity and anticipation, eager to unlock the secrets of the divine.

"Many..." Yoongi's response is brief, yet it reverberates with an air of mystery and untold tales, leaving you even more intrigued.

"And what role do you play in this world of the divine?" You ask with a twinge of sarcasm "If your brother Hoseok is the god of fate, what are you the god of?" you press on, unable to resist the allure of Yoongi's presence and the enigma that surrounds him.

A mischievous chuckle escapes Yoongi's lips, weaving its spell around you, captivating your senses and drawing you deeper into his world.

"Lost souls, death, life, and everything in between," he reveals, each word dripping with an intoxicating blend of power and mystery as if he holds the keys to the very essence of existence itself.

"Like the Grim Reaper?" You ask "Do you gather souls and guide them to the underworld?"

"Grim reaper?" Yoongi chuckles, a sound that resonates with a captivating enchantment, his smile revealing a glimpse of his delicate gums, making his appearance more human, and less dangerous. "You could refer to me as such. I am indeed the collector of souls, but only those deemed deserving."

"And who determines who is deserving? What must one do to catch your attention?" you press further, eager to unravel the intricacies of his divine judgment.

"My dearest... I fear these inquiries lead us down a path we should not tread, at least not in this moment," Yoongi's voice takes on a mystical hue, his words carrying a weight of wisdom and caution. "I have halted time, solely for you. But this recess is finite. I cannot halt its flow indefinitely."

You gaze upon the frozen figures of the people you know, their movements suspended in time, a testament to Yoongi's power. He has orchestrated this moment, this pause in the world, for you to truly listen, and to make a decision that will shape your future.

"Okay, I apologize. It's just that all of this feels..." you begin, your voice trailing off, struggling to find the right words to capture the surreal nature of the situation.

"Surreal?" Yoongi interrupts, his eyes penetrating your very being. You nod in agreement, unable to deny the overwhelming sense of wonder that engulfs you.

"Indeed, my dearest. Even for a creature as inquisitive as yourself, this world is a boundless tapestry, far too vast to comprehend in such a fleeting moment," Yoongi's voice carries an ethereal quality, the way his words move, as if he holds the key to unraveling the mysteries of the universe, and probably he does. "But don't you worry my dearest, for I shall guide you, help you grasp the unfathomable. That is, of course, if you accept my demands and allow me to take your hand, returning your life to its rightful course."

You nod, a heaviness settling in your throat as you become acutely aware of the gravity of the moment. This is the turning point, the opportunity to alter the course of your life forever.

"I am here, listening," you utter, gathering your courage and taking a deep breath.

Yoongi, the embodiment of mystique, acknowledges your readiness. He leans forward, his body curving with an otherworldly grace, resting his elbows on his thighs and cradling his chin in his hands. A profound aura surrounds him as he speaks, his voice carrying the weight of countless ages. "If you seek to rid yourself of this... affliction, I require a payment," he states, his words dripping with enigmatic power.

Confusion etches across your face, your brows furrowing in perplexity. "A payment? What can I possibly offer to a god?" you inquire, your voice trembling with a mix of awe and uncertainty.

A chuckle escapes Yoongi's lips, its resonance carrying the echoes of forgotten realms. "Ah, my little doll, I have grown weary and bored. Centuries have passed since I last tended to a human," he muses, his voice the carrying weight of countless experiences. "I have been called by many names, subjected to curses and accusations. It falls upon me to discern who is deserving of my care and who shall suffer in Mingyu's grasp."

"Mingyu?" you interject, your curiosity piqued.

Yoongi chuckles once more, the sound tinged with a mixture of amusement and wisdom. "The god of the underworld, darling. The almighty protector of those souls deemed unworthy, those who find no solace in death," he explains, his words painting a vivid picture of the divine realm.

Your mouth forms an "o" of wonder, the revelation of a vast and intricate divine world leaving you in awe. "And what is it that you want from me?" you inquire, your voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

"To judge," Yoongi declares, a mischievous smirk adorning his face.

"Judge? Whom?" you ask, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

"The souls. It is you who shall decide, on my behalf of course, who is deserving of my attention and who shall wither in Mingyu's realm," Yoongi reveals, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity. "And I will take care of you; body and soul my dearest"

Your eyes widen, overwhelmed by the weight of such a responsibility. "I... I cannot do that! How... no! It's beyond my capabilities, I could never... such responsibility, no" you protest, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief.

But Yoongi doesn't falter; his eyes fixate on your trembling form with an intensity that feels like a storm brewing. The mischievous smirk on his lips fades, replaced by a gaze that holds the weight of ancient secrets. "Shall I grant you some time?" he asks, his voice carrying a mystical undertone.

You shake your head, your voice filled with desperation. "No! I... I cannot do that. I could never..."

Yoongi lets out a weary sigh, his breath mingling with the ethereal air around you. "Very well, then. I shall grant you a week," he states, his words resonating with an otherworldly power. "For one week, you shall be spared from the grasp of death."

"What?!" you exclaim, your voice a mix of disbelief and astonishment. "I don't need a week. I can't do that I–"

Yoongi raises his hand, adorned with a ring that seems to hold a glimmer of ancient magic. His finger points behind you, towards your motionless body lying on the hospital bed. "You were destined to meet your demise in precisely 24 hours. I offer you this week to contemplate my demands. Should you reject them... I shall not claim your soul, my dearest."

Your eyes widen in horror, the realization of an eternal decay settling upon you. "So, you would condemn me? To suffer forever?"

"Indeed," Yoongi replies, his voice a whisper that sends shivers down your spine. Your heart races and a wave of dizziness washes over you. "One week, my little doll," he declares, and with a swift snap of his fingers, you are pulled backward into the unknown.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #bts fic #bts #bad writing #sorry if my grammar is bad #anxiety at its finest

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kirabewriting · 9 days

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The Maze in My Mind

TW: There is a portion in the middle of this piece where I seem to refer to the urge to s*lf h*rm, but I am not referring to that, I am referring to metal music in a very violent way and graphic way as it’s where my passions lie.

To walk through the dark corridors of the mind, a maze of endless hallways with no escape. The promise of freedom at journey’s end, but no way of reaching it.

Someone who you should be takes control of your body, and without realizing you embrace the facade of being her, “I am her” you say to yourself “I have always been her. Who else could I be” you don’t even notice the tears falling down your face as your arms move to the dance of the wrong symphony.

And yet you cannot curse the puppeteer, for you know she has no way of knowing that you are there, she thinks she is you and that you are her after all, and she has every right to be there as you do.

What brings you joy in the darkened corridors of the unconscious is the sound of anger and rage, of the screaming of crowds for the people so free that they made their freedom into their creative passion. The lyrical grime of vocal cords being scraped with knives into a microphone, the pain part of the freedom. Oh how you crave that pain, but with no voice, how can you bring your song to the world? With no hands of your own, how can you guide your fingers across the guitar strings as they do? How do you scream with no mouth?

And when the puppeteer does find you, and you realize she is no puppeteer but a victim of the same heinous crime as you, the crime of the unself, how do you greet her? Do you greet her as she would greet herself, or would you greet her as you would as yourself? Can you even be yourself, knowing that others perceive you so differently, have you even the ability to after so long pretending to be someone you weren’t without even realizing?

Who knows.

Perhaps with time it will come easier, it has so far.

That’s what got me through the void of the mind, hope.

And I hope one day I can learn to show my face with no filter.

Written by June

#writing #plural system #plurality #did alter #dissociative identity disorder

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blackbutler-sideblog · 6 months

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Dadbastian Week Day 2: Identity

Hey y'all!

So I missed day one but I really wanted to participate! I'm not sure if I'll be able to write for any of the other days but I'll try my best! It's currently 12:49 AM over here so I'm considering it Day 2 lol!

I hope you all enjoy it and remember that constructive criticism is always welcomed! This is also being posted on my ao3 so don't be alarmed if you see it on there as well lol

—————————————————————————

He couldn't see anything.

All that stood before him was an endless black void filled with nothing but deafening silence. Was he blindfolded? He didn't feel blindfolded. There was no tight pressure around his face that usually came with a piece of fabric being tightly forced around his head. But then why couldn't he see?

He reached forward, feeling his hands shake as he tried to navigate his way through the darkness. However, no matter how long he walked, no matter how far he extended his reach, his hands continued to grasp at nothing. How big is this place? Why is it so dark? How did he get here?

His thoughts raced as he stumbled through the unforgiving void, disoriented and increasingly terrified. The questions weighed heavily on him, their answers remaining elusive. Was he the only one here?

"Hello?" He tried to call out, but all that he could manage was a muffled, incoherent sound as if he had a mouth filled with rags. He opened his mouth again, and again, the same pathetic noise emerged. Was he gagged as well?

Panic surged within him as he reached up to pull the offending object from his mouth. He needed to call for help!

But, to the boy's horror, there was nothing there.

There was no blindfold. There was no gag.

No. Instead, his fingers clawed against a completely smooth, featureless surface. His eyes, his mouth, his nose, his eyebrows, his...everything! They were all gone!

All of a sudden, he realized he couldn't breathe. He fell forward, desperately trying to open his mouth to inhale, but he couldn't. There was nothing there for him to open. He dug his nails into his skin; clawing and clawing, but nothing worked. His muffled sobs turned into full-blown screams as he felt his flesh tear away into new, equally blank pieces of flesh.

"It hurts! Oh god, it hurts!"

" —Young master!"

He gasped, a rush of air finally filling his tired lungs.

A familiar voice pulled him from the void like a rope thrown to a drowning victim at the last possible second. Ciel blinked, the candle-lit room slowly coming into view. The sharp contrast between the black abyss he was in only moments ago and his parents' bedroom was jarring, to say the least, and the memories of his ordeal remained vivid.

A cloth was suddenly pressed to his skin, causing Ciel to flinch away.

"Please, my lord. You are bleeding," the voice said with evident concern.

'Don't touch me!' He wanted to scream, but any power in his voice was used up by his desperate cries for help while he was trapped.

"Twas only a nightmare, young master. Everything is fine."

Ciel rolled his eye over to the left side of his bed where the voice was coming from, the lack of movement from his right eye was not unnoticed. He jumped.

Next to him stood a strange man dressed in all black, holding a bloodied handkerchief to the side of his mouth. He gasped at the sight of him, pushing the gloved appendage away as fast as he could possibly manage.

The man was wearing Ciel's face!

That was his face! He took his face! That was his nose! His hairline! His...His...No, wait.

A shaky hand reached up, his fingers once again touching all over. He could feel his nose, his eyes, his mouth...No. No. Ciel had his face back.

"Ah! Don't touch it." the man said quietly but urgently, bending back over to place the cloth on his cuts.

Ciel looked closer, his singular good eye squinting through the dim lighting. No...it wasn't his face that this stranger stole, but a familiar face nonetheless. He recognized those sharp, concerned eyes and furrowed brow. He's seen those thin, downward-turned lips and tight, clenched jaw.

A sudden memory flashed through his mind. He was little. Well, little-er. He had been running, trying his best to keep up with...someone. He couldn't remember who. Out of nowhere, it seemed, he had tripped over his laces and came crashing down, his face scraping across the ground.

He remembers wailing as he clenched his bloody cheek. It wasn't that painful looking back on it, but it was scary; at least for a nine-year-old. It was the first time he was in pain not due to a sickness.

"Oh, now what are you crying for, hmm?" a deep, gentle voice came, cutting off the boy's cries.

"I-I fell down..." he sniffled.

"I see." He bent down to take the boy's face into his hands, turning it this way and that, checking for bruises and scrapes. The boy looked up, but for some reason, he couldn't remember what he saw. He couldn't see the voice's face.

After a moment, the hands disappeared from his skin, being replaced by a soft handkerchief.

"You'll be fine," the voice declared. "We all fall down sometimes. What's important is that you get back up."

The boy didn't respond, only sniffling as he looked back up. Sharp eyes with furrowed brows came into view. But this man was smiling.

With a determined nod, the boy gently pushed the handkerchief away before slowly rising, his knees still wobbly from his sudden fall. Vincent returned the nod, an air of amusement swimming through his eyes. The boy stepped forward, ready to continue his chase after his brother, only to fall forward once more. His cursed shoelaces had struck again, leaving the boy with a face full of dirt and his pride decimated.

"Hahaha!" Vincent couldn't help but laugh, already bending forward to help his youngest off the ground. "Maybe I should teach you to tie your laces first!"

—

"You took his face," Ciel's voice suddenly came to him. It was trembling and hoarse, but it was his voice.

Sebastian's hand stopped prodding his cuts, a single eyebrow arching up in a rare moment of confusion for the butler. "What do you mean, my lord? I have always had this face. At least since I have met you, that is."

Ciel didn't answer.

The room became quiet once again as Sebastian pulled out some sort of cream, smearing it across all of Ciel's self-inflicted wounds. It stung and smelled weird, but the boy didn't complain. He didn't have the energy to.

"Did anyone come tonight?" He broke the silence.

"No. It was another quiet night, my lord."

"Good."

The conversation died there. Sebastian gently placed bandages, at least five, onto Ciel's features before placing the rest back into his coat pocket. He moved back and stood tall in one fluid motion that couldn't be described as anything other than uncanny and so uniquely Sebastian.

"Are you alright now, my lord? Do you require anything else?"

"...No." Ciel flopped back down onto his mattress, exhausted and wide awake at the same time. He turned over, away from the demon that stood only meters away from him, trying to will himself to relax.

There was a pause, then the rustling of the duvet that had long been thrown to the floor. Ciel remained as still as the dead as Sebastian delicately covered him once again in the cool and soft fabric. Wordlessly, his butler tucked him in with an uncommon amount of tenderness that gave the Earl goosebumps.

"If you need anything else, simply call my name," Sebastian reminded him, his voice so calm and still. And with that, he grabbed the candelabra and quietly made his way to the door, allowing his footsteps to actually sound for once as he retreated from Ciel's sleep quarters.

"Sebastian," Ciel called, his own voice startling him.

"Yes, young master?"

Ciel took a second, digging himself further under the covers. "Stay. Until I fall asleep."

"Yes, my lord."

Ciel didn't have to look to know that Sebastian was bowing, a hand placed over where his heart should be. Sebastian blew out the candles, the room now becoming dark, but not pitch black. The moonlight creeping through the window gave more than enough light for him to make out where he was. It was quiet, but he could make out the sound of mild rain tapping on his window and leaves gracefully blowing in the wind. His hand crept up again, tracing across his features...just double-checking.

"Sebastian?"

"Yes, young master?"

"Tomorrow...Tomorrow, will you teach me to tie my shoes?"

A pregnant pause filled the room, Ciel regretting the words that just fell from his mouth. Why had he said that? What was wrong with him? He should have—

"Of course, young master. Right after breakfast."

Ciel let out a breath that he had not known he was holding. The hand retreated back under the duvet, his eyes finally able to close again; his bed undergoing an abrupt transformation, becoming irresistibly comfortable once again. Something washed over the boy, something he had not felt in a long, long time. He couldn't describe it, but it was...good.

"You took his place." He mumbled, drifting off into a welcomed dreamless sleep.

#dadbastianweek2023 #dadbastianweekidentity #dadbasitanweek #dadbastian #dadbastianidentity

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stevesxyellowxsweater · 8 months

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Lost in the shadows

Pairing: no pairing just Eddie Munson

cw: None really, Eddie in the void, Vecna in his head.

summary: Eddie Munson died, he died in Dustin Henderson's arms. Yet fate has given him another chance, does he dare take the offer to join the dark side?

author notes: I wrote this some time ago, it's about Eddie turning into Kas

“ Wake up, wake up Eddie. " A deep husk of a voice called to Eddie as he walked through the void. Turning around, he looked through the darkness trying to find who or what was calling to him. "Henderson? Wheeler? Anyone?" He called as he started to move faster through the darkness, trying to find a way out. "Dustin!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, desperate to find him. Collapsing to his knees, he looked down at the water that seemed to cover the floor. It was strange, he could touch it but it didn't make him wet. "Where are you? Where am I?” He asked, his voice cracking.

“ Wake up Eddie. " The voice came again, calling to him through the darkness. “ I need my lieutenant. " Goosebumps ran up Eddie's arms as he stood up. This place was strange, he had no idea where he was or what was happening. He scanned around the darkness once more, hoping to see something. “Henderson?” He said as he slowly approached and looked at the person in front of him.

It was Henderson, he knew Dustin. Eddie reached out and saw his hand go through Dustin, a perplexed look appeared on his face. “ I thought you'd like to see what they're saying about you. ” That damn voice came again, Eddie glanced back looking for the sign of another life here. No one. “He's dead. I don't care! He should've listened to you, he's gone.”

Dustin disappeared and was replaced with the rest of Hellfire. “I can finally be King of Hellfire, he didn't deserve it!” Gareth said as he took Eddie’s seat. “That and we can take the band in the direction we want!” Jeff commented happily, then high-fived Gareth before they disappeared.

“They didn't like you Eddie, they cared only about themselves. They didn't defend you, or try and protect you when they thought you killed. Just look at how the town treated you Eddie.” Eddie stood watching as flashes of the town meeting appeared, everyone calling Eddie a freak and different names. Saying he needs to be stopped. Everyone was there, including his Uncle Wayne.

“ Join me Eddie, they never cared about you. None of them did. ” The last thing Eddie saw was his Uncle in the town meeting yelling that he'd always been strange and he wished that someone else had been his nephew. As he disappeared, Vecna stepped out from the shadows and looked at him offering him a hand. “Join me.”

Eddie stared at the man… creature… thing in front of him. Did he want to take him up on his offer? “They will never call you a freak again, they will either respect you or die.” Vecna told the young man, hoping that his manipulations would be enough. “You never even got a funeral Eddie, no one mourns those they decide are wicked. But you are like me, you are simply misunderstood.”

Eddie looked down, the words freak, loser, asshole, killer, weirdo. So many words were thrown at him that were just hurtful, sighing he reached out and took hold of Vecna's hand. He smiled and disappeared, leaving him alone in the darkness once more.

Turning around, he searched but found himself unable to find anything. He started to walk again, was this what Vecna meant by joining him? Just be in the darkness, be alone forever?

The noise reached him before he saw anything, then he saw them in the distance rushing toward him. Stepping back as he realised it was A large group of bats flocking toward him. He began to run, fear consuming him as he tried to get away. He'd already died fighting them, not again, not alone.

The bats were fast though, and Eddie found himself being cut off. Stopping dead, he turned in a circle watching as the bats surrounded him. He stood frozen in fear on the spot. He was just a tiny dot in the Center of a bat forest.

" Don't fight it Eddie, they are helping you reach your full potential. " Bats flew around him, faster, and faster creating a vortex. One at a time bats flew down and began to rip at him in different places, his neck, his chest, everywhere. But then they just suddenly stopped.

Eddie watched as the bats flew up into the air, merging together and seemingly turning into one very large bat. Taller than anything he'd seen in his life, and something he couldn't stand the idea of being close to. “No.” He uttered before he started to run, he wasn't going to let it consume him. He couldn't! Looking back he saw the bat beginning to fly toward him. “Shit!” He exclaimed, pushing himself harder to get away.

“Face it Eddie, it's your destiny .” The words caused him to stop. “I didn't run away this time.” He repeated some of the last words he said to Dustin, Dustin who he thought was his friend but really didn't care about him. Eddie stopped running and turned back to look at the bat. “Bring it on, I'm not afraid of you!” He announced as the bat flew toward him. “I'm not afraid! He screamed, his arms opening and welcoming the bat. Eddie screamed loudly, as the bat flew into his chest and made him fall backward into the darkness.

His eyes shot open, a deep gasp fell from his lips as he sat up. He pushed his hand through his long curls to get them out of his face. His head hurt, his body hurt, every bit of him hurt. Reaching for his shirt he pulled it up to find scars and nothing more from the bats. He looked around, he knew this house, it was the Creel house. Standing up, he stumbled to an old broken mirror.

Gazing into the mirror, he gasped as he saw his eyes. They were red, not bloodshot, but red pupils. He saw his fangs too, and quickly reached for them. “What the…” He questioned before touching his teeth trying to understand what was going on. "Hello Eddie, me and my bats brought you back, with a few... modifications. The upside down does wonderful things to people."

Eddie looked at the creature… man… thing who stood behind him. He looked like he had been burnt to a crisp but somehow still survived. “Vecna…” He said, gasping gently as he went to step back. He was real this time, he knew he was real and it caused him to feel very nervous. “I wouldn't try to run if I was you Eddie, this is my playground and you are now my puppet.”

Eddie swallowed hard, his eyes focused on the pair of evil eyes in front of him. “What do you want from me?” Eddie watched the burnt man make his way toward him. Stepping backward, he found himself hitting a wall. “You are to lead my army.” He said his hand moved close and hovered over him. “It's only fair when I've chosen to let my bats turn you into the undead.”

Eddie stared at him, he understood. He was going to be his puppet, Vecna was his master and whatever was coming next terrified him to his core. “You will join me won't you?” He asked as he held out a hand to him. Eddie wasn't sure, a moment of conflict ran through his body. It soon disappeared as he remembered all that had been done and said to him.

The vampire looked up at Vecna, the conflict disappearing. “Yes.” He said sternly. A small smirk appeared on Vecna’s face as he shook his hand. “Welcome to my team Eddie, I have big plans for you.” Vecna told him, an evil glint in his eye.

His plan was coming together, he had all his pieces falling into place. He'd destroy Eleven and the rest of her team, using one of their team members against them. His pieces were set on the board, and Vecna was going to make sure that Hawkins would fall.

#Kas!eddie #Eddie Munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #Kas!eddie fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

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calypsos-siren · 5 months

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Chapter Three- Calypso's Siren

plot: Annie x Finnick, my personal love note to every broken woman out there. I genuinely believe she was strong and capable, and still is, and want to give her a background that honors her.

a/n: it would mean the world to me if you could follow me here for updates on the story, or follow the story on fanfiction.com. I feel like I'm writing into a void sometimes, but I'm in love with this story, I hope you are too.

The train car felt stiflingly tight, its walls adorned with faded Capitol insignias resting on gaudy green walls. I'm not convinced that the room isn't closing in on me - I swear every time I blink they inch closer and closer and whisper, you're not welcome here. Every ounce of the interior was representative of the Capitol - and every bit of it reminded me of how I do not belong. I shift uncomfortably but am met with a wave of nausea. My body is not quite sure if it's truly in motion; it groans, my stomach twisting. I question if it's upset at the vibrations as the train runs over the tracks, or if it was suddenly reminded of how alone we are.

In need of a distraction, I turn my attention to the delicate bracelets encircling my wrists. They're dark, loosely fitted, and emit a faint hum in the rare moment that the cab is completely silent. Tugging at them once, then twice, they twist and contract. The initial sense of claustrophobia amplified. Why are they tightening - and why are they so heavy? My throat constricted, tears welling up, threatening to spill over. Every fiber within me screamed to escape, as if there was any sort of possibility. Ragged breaths echoed as I pulled harder, desperate for control over my own body. This is the only thing that still belongs to me, please don't take this too. Why is this happening? But they remained steadfast, resisting my efforts until my hands began to lock up in their own twisted contortions.

That's when the tears flowed freely.

"Shhh."

Though blurry and out of focus, I recognize Mags gently shushing as she approaches. Her curly hair covers a portion of her aging face, but her eyebrows are scrunched in obvious confusion. Does she know what's happening to me? I cry so hard I can feel it in my ribs.

"I - I just need them off," I stammered. It's breathy and hardly audible but she seems to understand nonetheless.

She nods, raising a frail hand to gesture a Peacekeeper. It seems as though it was more than we are allowed to demand, but Mags reins an authority that is quite rare outside of the Capitol. They fell away.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't breathe. What are those?" My voice does not sound like my own.

Mags stays silent, instead choosing to reach up and fix the mess that I created. Her hands run smoothly through my hair, patting it down with ease and twisting it at the ends. I opened my mouth, to almost say something. Almost. But my voice is stuck in a part of me that I wasn't sure still belonged to me. I'm not sure that I have anything that can show my gratitude, so I bow my head and pat my hand to hers. She understands.

"Handcuffs. That's all." Mags finally answered, satisfied with her work to bring me back to a presentable state.

"My name is Mags, winner of the 11th Hunger Games," she chuckled softly, "That's how old I am." Despite her age, she moved and spoke without falter. I'm increasingly thankful for her poise - as if she had never seen anything out of the ordinary.

"I'm Annie."

She grinned before taking my hand and leading me to a table in the room's center. Gesturing to a seat across from her, she settled in, albeit slowly. This is the first time that I see her struggle.

"I find it best to chat over a meal."

I nodded.

The room was abuzz with activity as the meal was set on the table, each dish more decadent and alluring than the last. Biscuits with a golden crust, cakes adorned with fruits I couldn't name, and fish cakes with heaps of colorful rice set beneath them. I analyze her, watch her look across the display, and wonder if this is something she ever got used to. Did she ever miss our bread? Did she forget the taste of crabs after a full day of arguing with the ocean?

Before the food was fully arranged, Finnick and Oleander entered - though I hardly noticed at first. Finnick seemed to be the first to notice the tension in the air, stopping to assess the situation. Upon inspection of my still-wet cheeks and puffy eyes, he let the air out from his lungs. I made a point to avoid eye contact.

"Not a fan of the Capitol's fashion?"

I flinched.

"They weren't my style, but you're welcome to borrow them if you'd like."

A second passes before he lets out a chuckle and pulls out the chair beside me. He's already in the trenches with Oleander, discussing strategies on how to gain sponsorships - when to smile, what to say, who to align yourself with early on. This doesn't feel like a conversation for me, so I ignore the men piling food on their dishes and opt to pour a tea. It's warm and purple and dances with blue on the edge of the teacup. It seems as though the Capitol needs to be entertained by things as simple as tea to be happy, but this is not happy. Not truly.

I wrap my hands around the porcelain and pray to feel a piece of home, a self-directed kindness in the middle of a place that offers none of it. The warmth is a different heat than of the sun, but if I close my eyes long enough, maybe I'll wake up with burnt palms and a honey-coated tongue. At night, this will be nothing more than a bad nightmare.

When my eyes snap open, it's very much real. Finnick is finishing the description of his games to Oleander. Oleander is leaned forward, grey eyes intent on listening to each detail. He's analyzing, planning, already creating ideas of how to impress the crowd. Mags looks worried, but her eyes dart away when I meet them.

"Training helped. Are you ready?" Finnick questioned Oleander, but I couldn't help but notice the awkward shift. This would be number nine and ten for him. Ten people sent to death at the hands of Careers who found District Four too threatening since his win. Does he feel responsible?

They continue chatting, though I'm too busy watching Mags work on weaving some sort of personal project. It's small and the color of seaweed, so easily disguisable that it's gone unnoticed until now. She must have brought it in the pockets of her olive sundress, or perhaps hidden in her cardigan. Her movements are minuscule, precise. I take it in, trying to understand how she's weaving with such ease despite the size.

"Would you all prefer to train together or separately?" Finnick's voice breaks my thoughts, finally addressing both of us.

I bite my lip and wait patiently, fully prepared for Oleander's declaration that he would like to be trained alone. After all, he has an inherit right to Finnick and a blood right to Mags. But that declaration never comes. I turn to face him, only to come to terms with his internal battle. For the first time, he looks terrified. The corners of my mouth curl slightly, temptation to raise an eyebrow and ask, are you finally realizing you'll have to kill them - kill me?

"I think we can train together, if Annie is cool with that."

I know that he likely made his decision to include Mags, but I can't help but feel grateful that my death won't be personal.

"Yeah, that would be fun. A little bonding time." I hope it doesn't come out sour, but it does. I sip on my tea - it tastes like hibiscus and honey and my stomach flips. Can I stomach it? I swallow it anyway.

"We'll stick together until we can't anymore. I promise." Oleander reaches forward, stopping inches from my remaining hand. I tense - and then I lean forward barely, hardly breathing, and meet him.

"I swear." I lean back and pretend to not notice Mags staring at the ceiling. Her blood lives immortalized in one arena and now it will be on display in another. I make a personal note to wrap my arms around her as many times as I can before I die. She's too busy comforting us - but we won't be the ones to carry the pain. For seconds, maybe, minutes if we're really unlucky. Hers will last much longer.

"Oleander -", I begin.

"Ole is okay, I'd prefer that if we're going to be friends."

I smile, the first real smile since I volunteered.

"Ole - which part of the district did you grow up in?"

He pauses, though I doubt he has much to hide. His eyes shift to Mags, having a silent conversation that I cannot understand. Then, he brushes his reddish curls out of his face and leans forward. I make a silent bet on whether Mags used to own the same color. With a gentle pause, he begins.

Ole's story starts with his upbringing in the Northern part of our District, one known for it's wealth and the Victor's Village. He enjoyed training - which confirms that he has indeed prepared for the possibility of being drawn - and I shudder at the thought that Mags anticipated this. A girlfriend named Isla and a dog named Bones. Two sisters that he hates in the mornings because they take too long in the baths. He loves them the rest of the day.

He describes the life that anyone would hope for in our chaotic and still-recovering world, one filled with days spent burning in the sun and trading fish for oysters. In another life, maybe I am in the background.

Finnick cuts in, asking him specific questions that confirms that he grew up in the same area. Mags pours me more tea.

"Where did you grow up?" I ask under my breath, enough for Mags but not enough to interrupt the conversation swirling in my left ear.

"I suspect the same place that you did. I was born in the revolution. Things were much different." For a moment, I catch pain. But then I look at her, and she's covered in wrinkles and her hair has lost its color and she's here, alive. For a fleeting moment, I am half agony - but I am half hope.

Ole stands and offers his hand to Mags, who looks reluctant to take it but gives in when she looks up. This time, I know what the conversation is. Let me take care of you for as long as I'm here.

I watch them retreat down the moving hallway and grasp the tea that she poured for me. I wonder how many people she has given kindness to in their last moments. Finnick doesn't get up.

"I cried on the train too." It's quiet, the dynamic shifting as Mags and Ole are out of sight.

I look at him directly for the first time since his arrival. He claims rustic hair and a smile that has the Capitol tangled around him in obsession - but he has bags beneath his eyes and shoulders that round forward as if in prayer. This isn't the man that I've heard so much of. Not a playboy, just a boy.

"Are you just saying that?" I raise an eyebrow. He looks sincere, but I'm not quite trusting of whether he's offering solace or honesty.

"No, I wish I was. I could brag about how strong I was," He laughs, as if he doesn't have enough to brag about already, "But I wasn't, I thought you should know that."

I nod and offer a small smile before standing up, hesitating as soon as my knees straighten out.

"It's okay if you're not ready. I can answer any questions you have." He reaches out, taking the cup of tea that I've had a death grip on. It's cracked at the handle. He grimaces. Instead, it's replaced with a glittering amber liquid that I suspect will make the room spin.

"Does it get easier?"

"With time. Yes and no."

I accept this. The silence that blankets us is comforting and I bask in it. Maybe I'm not so alone - and maybe I don't have to do this alone. I let my shoulders drop and unbuckle my knees, turning and offering the same hand that Ole offered Mags. It's rewarded with a crooked smile and much smoother laugh.

"You can do this. It doesn't feel like it," His voice sounds like velvet, "but you can. I promise."

This makes the second promise of the night and I question how well everyone is at keeping them. He reaches forward, pauses, then lets his arm drop. When he looks away, I catch a glimpse of pity that causes fury to ignite beneath me.

"I'm not dead yet," I swallow my tears, "but why is everyone looking at me like I am?" My body begins to shake and tremble, my lungs begging for air that seems to be stuck in my throat.

Finnick shakes his head, his silhouette hardly visible in the low lighting that now encompasses the cabin. He gestures towards a couch in the far corner of the cabin. I suspect it's the furthest place from the littered microphones and cameras, the only refuge that offers any privacy. The way he moves, the way he blocks me at certain angles, the pieces fall into place. I comply with it all, moving slowly to make it easier.

The couch is plush and soft, my entire body sinks into it as though it's consuming me. I debate whether the Peacekeepers would put the bracelets back on if I refused to go back to my room.

"I think you have a chance if you can get over this melancholy." His voice is hardly above a whisper as he settles in on the opposite end. Always leaving space, always distant. Not that I want much to do with Finnick Odair, but the idea of not being so alone is compelling. Just to have something, someone who has an understanding on how to sort these thoughts.

"You have so much confidence, Finnick Odair." I grin. It feels foreign but genuine.

"Of course, because I'm always right." The crooked smile is there again and I can see his own shoulders begin to roll back.

"Oh yeah? That must be nice, but doesn't that make things boring?" I retort, though follow it with a laugh when his eyebrows begin to knot, "There's a beauty to the things that creep up on us, isn't there?"

Finnick's lips curl in the corner of my vision, it's lopsided and intriguing and addicting. We leave it at that and watch the moon rise through a canopy of trees we don't recognize. Everything is moving so quickly, though time feels like it's not passing at all. My mind fights against any idea of sleep, though my body screams for it.

"Can we stay here a little while longer?"

"As long as you'd like, Annie."

I sink into the plush of the sofa, accidentally resting my feet against his as I slide further down the arm. In the dark, my heart is pounding. I expect him to pull away, to flinch back as he did before, but instead he seems to lean into it. Is it as lonely being a victor as it is being a tribute? To be passionately and voraciously desired by the people who did this to you - how do you carry everything that has happened to you? In that fleeting moment between wakefulness and sleep, I make him a promise back. As long as I am alive, you won't be alone. You paid for your life in blood and silver, this small kindness is deserved.

#annie cresta #annie x finnick #finnick odair #finnick x annie #the hunger games #thg #thg fanfiction #thg finnick #thg series #thg fic #finnick imagine #finnick x you #finnick x reader #hunger games catching fire #hunger games finnick

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galacticwildfire · 2 years

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Illicit Affairs | Obi-Wan Kenobi

One

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Naberrie!oc

Rhea Amidala meets Obi-Wan Kenobi when he and his master come to her younger sisters aid and he discovers the queen's sister was once a Jedi, expelled from the order for her unwillingness to forgo love and attachment. The two stranded together on Tatooine find common ground despite their differences, and above all a hope within the other for something greater than themselves.

Word count: 4.8k

Tags/warnings: invasion, attachment issues, some arguing over ideology, not many warnings for this chapter, family issues

A/N; Hey guys, this series is basically going to be a love letter to obi-wan kenobi, from episode I to his show, with Padme's older sister being that constant in his life. You all bet your asses we are gonna have two Jedi’s with healthy relationships with attachment who want to be together who get fucked over anyways.

32 BBY | The Phantom Menace

Every last instinct I have screams at me that something is terribly amiss, even if it's fallen on the deaf ears of my sisters council. She has the title and the ornaments that force them to listen, she is young and wise, in their eyes I am merely a failed Jedi whose council is void, and so I'm left to anxiously watch as she gives her address to the Trade Federation.

"Again you come before us, your highness."

"You will not be so pleased when you hear what I have to say, Viceroy. Your trade boycott of our planet has ended."

Her voice is deep and strong, it is still strange to me seeing her like this, a queen. She is far too grown up to be fourteen, but then again so was I at her age.

"I was not aware of such a failure."

"I have word that the chancellors ambassadors are with you now, and that you have been commanded to reach a settlement."

"I know nothing of any ambassadors," the Viceroy denies, a clear lie. "You must be mistaken."

"Beware viceroy," she warns. "The Federation has gone too far this time."

One thing I truly admire about my younger sister is her clear headedness. Her firm resolve without becoming emotional, something I lack despite my years of trying to master it.

"We would never do anything without the approval of the senate," he says and I could laugh, knowing what a mess all that has become. "You assume too much."

"We will see."

The address cuts off and she gives me a look, allowing me and only me to see her frustration. One of her first acts upon becoming queen was to name me as both her protector and her military advisor considering my involvement in intergalactic affairs whilst with the order, a new role for a new era of uncertainty, and the second was to change her name to protect our family. I had already changed mine long ago from Rhea Naberrie to Rhea Amidala, but while hers was to protect our family, mine was out of shame.

The great failure of our great family.

Oh how my mother looked at me in horror when Padme decided to change her name to the one I had chosen years before. The family pride and the family disgrace. The Amidala Sisters.

The great Queen, and the great scandal.

I sit by her side as we receive a hologram from Senator Palpatine, and further admire her brilliant patience, it's a shame the roles weren't reversed as she would have made an excellent Jedi. But I was the one with the midichlorian count much to the disappointment of our family.

"Negotiations haven't started because the ambassadors aren't there? How could that be true?" Palpatine asks us. "I have assurances from the chancellor his ambassadors did arrive."

"It's because it isn't true," I answer for my sister, having accompanied my own master on many such missions to know how they work. "The viceroy is conducting dirty business, he-" I stop as the connection becomes disrupted, the hologram distorting before disappearing.

"Senator Palpatine?" Padme asks and we share a confused look. "What's happening?"

"Check the transmission generator," Captain Panaka orders. "A communications disruption can only mean one thing, invasion."

"Dirty bastards," I curse under my breath at the Trade Federation, getting to my feet whilst Padme sits in denial. "We need to intervene, now."

"The Trade Federation would not dare go that far."

"Well, they have," I say frankly, the only one Padme allows to speak so bluntly in her presence. Whilst she took on a new name to protect our families identity it's known by all that I'm her sister and sworn protector as well as advisor.

"The senate would revoke their trade franchises," Panaka argues. "They'd be finished."

"Unless the senate is well, the senate," I reply, unlike Padme having little hope in their running of things. "We cannot sit and argue consequence when they are clearly not thinking of any."

"We must continue to rely on negotiations."

"Negotiations?" One of the ministers questions. "We've lost all communications, and where are the chancellors ambassadors?"

"He's right," I say to Padme, feeling it in my gut. "We must act quickly."

"This is a dangerous situation your highness," Panaka agrees. "Our security volunteers will be no match against a battle hardened federation army."

Her eyes immediately go to me, fourteen and yet still my little sister. "My sister will keep me safe, I trust her instincts, but I will not condone an action that will lead us to war."

I lean in towards her, trying to get her to see that this will not end how she wishes. "We may not have a choice."

She looks at me with the brown eyes we both share and I know she will let this go to war over her dead body.

Alone Padme and I watch as the Trade Federation's army comes, and I plead with her to reconsider her strategy.

"Padme, I know you do not want war but when they bring it to our doorstep we cannot just silently resist," I tell her as she stares out the window. "We must fight back."

She shakes her head. "No, fighting will only lead to death."

"So will this," I tell her, remembering what I was taught. "There is a reason the Republic for all its pacifism has the Jedi as its army, they are peaceful but know when to fight to protect it."

She looks at me, knowing I would not dare defend them unless I was desperate. "The Republic would refute the idea the Jedi are its personal army."

"But it is the truth," I tell her, knowing it better than she ever could. "You were not raised for battle, I was, so believe me when I say we are facing one."

She looks forward again, at the army closing in on the palace. "We only have our security force, we have no army. If I send them to fight they will be slaughtered."

"Then send me," I say and she stills. "If I'm all that stands between the Trade Federation and this planet then so be it, I will not sit by and watch it fall."

She looks at me, her emotions disguised behind the heavy makeup she wears, her handmaidens preparing Sabe to take her place as she reluctantly agrees. "Then you will fight."

I hide in the shadows as she gives herself over in surrender, her security detail disarmed, but someone on Naboo has to be still armed. Someone has to be waiting for the right moment to get her off this planet. I didn't spend my childhood training for a moment like this to fail, not again.

It's been five years since I came home from Coruscant expecting my family to welcome me with open arms only to find them horrified that I had failed what they saw as the ultimate honour. I left the order after watching in horror as they ripped children screaming from their parents arms, after countless fights with my own master and the council over the Jedi's ideology. Because I believed love was more important than what they preached to me, believing I would find it home on Naboo, only to be sorely wrong.

The greatest irony was leaving Depa Billaba, the closest thing to a mother I ever knew for one I hardly remembered. It was only my sisters who welcomed me home with open arms. One who I grew up alongside and another who did not know me, but nonetheless accepted me as her own.

And so in shame I became Rhea Amidala, the lost Jedi who shamed a proud family

Padme is the only purpose I have now, and while she chooses to surrender peacefully the Trade Federation's intentions are nowhere near as peaceful as hers. If I can't get her off this planet then I have to escape alone, I have to call to our allies in the Republic for help since the communications have been lost and the Chancellors ambassadors are nowhere to be found.

Naboo cannot resist an army of battle droids, not alone, and I have no qualms about walking into a room of politicians on Coruscant and demanding action.

From the upstairs balcony I watch our people being herded and rounded up until a movement in the river catches my eye and see a submarine surface that does not belong to the Trade Federation, and my eyes narrow in disbelief at the man who emerges from it.

Qui-Gon Jinn?

It seems we have not been abandon afterall.

Quickly I move from the balcony to follow their movements and catch voices from the stairwell where the Viceryoy is arresting Padme.

"How will you explain this invasion to the senate?"

"The queen and I will sign a treaty that will legitimise our occupation here."

Now that she certainly won't do.

I feel for the blaster at my belt and debate opening fire, but I have no saber to deflect the battle droids fire and no clear path of escape for Padme and her handmaidens, not yet at least, and so I sneak along the open corridors above the courtyard, following them until I catch movement just nearby, two Jedi and a Gungan.

Taking a risk I poke my head up and they spot me, the younger man a few years older than myself sees me first, not a Jedi that I recognise, but he taps his master on the arm to bring his attention to me with wide eyes, clearly not having expected anyone to still be walking free, and point for them to follow me.

They meet me along the overhead pass where Padme and the others are about to pass below surrounded by battle droids. The younger one raises his saber, as if in question, and I nod raising my blaster. Not a moment later we jump down onto the street below, the sound of sabers so strange to me after so long as I take out the remaining droids with my silenced blaster.

"Your highness," I say, checking Sabe over to not give anything away before I check on Padme and she gives me a nod to assure me she's alright.

"We should leave the street, your highness," Qui-Gon says and I keep my head low, knowing he is one of the few masters who could still recognise me, Jedi like ourselves who cause as much trouble for the council as we do, or rather did, tend to become acquainted.

"Get their weapons," I order what's left of Padme's security, Sabe disguised as Queen Amidala is ushered forward and I check on Padme again as I hand her a blaster, knowing I taught her how to use one and to use it well.

"Jedi?" she asks and I nod, briefly meeting the eyes of the padawan as we keep moving forward until we are out of sight. "Do you know them?"

Quietly I hush her despite the looks we get and Master Qui-Gon tells us as we reach cover "We're ambassadors for the Supreme Chancellor," Qui-Gon tells us.

"And I am the queen's protector," I reply and search his eyes for any sense of recognition, if he remembers me he doesn't give it away. "I take it negotiations didn't go as planned?"

"The negotations were short," the padawan remarks and I meet his eye again, still not recognising him but he looks to have been a few years above my class.

"In fact they never took place," Qui-Gon tells us. "It's urgent that we make contact with the Republic."

"They've knocked out communications," I tell him, right now wishing her damn council had listened to me when I warned them something wasn't right. "They have no plans to allow us to contact the Republic until the queen has signed a document legalising the invasion."

"Do you have transports?"

"In the main hanger," Panaka answers and points. "This way."

I walk beside the padawan as Panaka guides Padme and her detail into the hanger where others have already been gathered to talk strategy.

"There seems to be no actual fighters on the Federations side," I tell the two Jedi. "Just battle droids."

"There's still too many of them," Panaka says but he doesn't know what Jedi are capable of.

"That won't be a problem," Qui Gon says and turns to Sabe. "Your highness under the circumstances I suggest you come to Coruscant with us."

"Thank you ambassador," she replies while I shake my head at both of them in warning. "But my place is with my people."

"Queen Amidala, I must protest," I say, looking both of them in the eye. "You won't be much good to your people dead, you need to address the senate."

"They need her to sign a treaty to make this invasion legal," Panaka reminds us. "They can't afford to kill her."

My voice is harsh. "No but they can torture her into signing it."

I feel a coldness wash over Padme

"There's something else behind all this," Qui-Gon says to Sabe. "Your Highness there's no logic in the Federations move here. My feelings tell me they will destroy you."

"I agree," I say jumping in before anyone else can. "I feel it too although none of you were willing to listen when this blockade began."

"Now is not the time for hysterics Lady Amidala," Panaka chastises.

"And now is not the time for the queen to become a martyr," I retort. "The queen trusts my feelings even if you may not and I can assure you now is the time to act and survive."

None of the handmaidens react, each of them knowing my past, but I get a strange look from the padawan, Qui-Gon simply looks amused.

"Our only hope is for the senate to side with us," Padme's advisor says. "Senator Palpatine will need your help."

"Either choice presents grave danger to us all," Sabe says and looks to Padme for guidance.

"We are brave, your highness," Padme replies.

"If you are to leave your highness, it must be now," Qui-Gon says and Sabe looks to me, knowing Padme looks to me as well, and I nod in agreement.

"Then I will plead our case to the senate."

"Thank the maker," I murmur under my breath. "Now let's leave."

I follow the Jedi into the hanger, walking in front of Sabe with my blaster in hand as Panaka instructs "We will need to free those pilots."

"I'll deal with that," the padawan says and I follow him, firing as he ignites his saber, freeing the pilots and directing them to the ship as he finishes off the droids. "That should be it."

"No, it's not," I say grabbing him by the wrist as another squadron of battle droids emerge and order him "Cover me until we get the pilots on board."

He gives a quick nod and does as I ask, using his saber to deflect the blaster fire, covering me for long enough I can take out most of the droids by blaster until everyone is safely on board the ship.

"Come on!" I say and we finally jump onboard as more droids come, electing for escape rather than fighting and Qui-Gon who's been protecting the others follows us onboard, the last to get on before the ramp raises.

I put my blaster back in its holster as it shuts and we take off, meeting the padawan's eyes as we let out a breath of relief and everyone collects themselves, thankfully Qui-Gon doesn't stop to ask questions as he heads to speak to the pilot, leaving his apprentice with me.

He's handsome, certainly on the brink of becoming a Jedi Knight judging by his age and I clear my throat before I say "I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," he answers shaking my hand, the name still not familiar. "Jedi Padawan."

"Rhea Amidala," I reply. "The Queen's sister."

"Ah," he says, it now making sense to him why I'd be the one trying to order her about. "I take it you didn't agree with the surrender?"

"Someone had to be armed," I reply at how he found me but know it's a miracle no one but I spotted them arriving. "Nice submarine by the way, stealthy."

"You saw that?" he exclaims, now slightly embarrassed as he picks up the sarcasm in my voice, and I just laugh.

"Not as sly as you thought huh?" I tease with a raised eyebrow and immediately know by how he stiffens up at being jested with that he truly is one of those who's painfully devoted to the code, surprising considering who his master is. "Come on, they'll need us in the cockpit."

He follows me into it and I come to Panaka's side as he shows us the blockade, only to find myself hanging on to the back of a chair as an alarm starts blaring and the Federation launches their attack.

"Shield generators been hit!"

I try to stay calm as the droids are dispatched to the roof, but it's not a pretty sight as they continue to be shot off and I find myself looking at Master Qui-Gon, he doesn't seem awfully worried and I have to trust his judgement more than my own.

"We're losing droids fast," Obi-Wan says and we share a brief look of concern at the dire situation we've quickly found ourselves in.

"If we can't get the shield generator fixed we'll be sitting ducks."

I jump as another droid is blown off and they announce. "The shields are gone."

Immediately I turn to security. "Get the queen and her handmaidens towards the escape pod, and don't tell them why otherwise she'll fight with you, go!"

But before they can go to Padme we hear "Power's back! That little droid did it, he bypassed the main power drive."

"Never underestimate a droid," Qui Gon tells the captain, ironic considering its battle droids we're facing.

"Now get us out of here," I say but before we're in the clear there's another problem.

"There's not enough power to get us to coruscant, the hyperdrive's leaking."

I just shake my head as Qui Gon says "We'll have to land somewhere to refuel and repair the ship."

"Here master," Obi-Wan calls out. "Tatooine." I walk over to look at his screen. "It's small, out of the way, poor. The Trade Federation have no presence here."

"How can you be sure?"

"It's controlled by the Hutts."

"Do it," I agree and tell the captain. "Tatooine, we have no time to waste."

"You can't take the royal highness there!" Panaka argues. "The Tutts are gangsters."

"They still bleed like the rest of us don't they?" I argue, knowing the Federation will be scouring the sector for us and I'd take my luck with them over battle droids. "What would you rather? Hutts or her being captured by the Federation?"

"Lady Amidala, you might be her protector but I am her chief of security-"

"I am her sister!" I snap back, having been sent to negotiate in enough diplomatic messes to know what awaits her if captured. "Her safety is my only priority and you are taking your orders from me, we are landing on Tatooine."

Qui-Gon puts a hand on my shoulder, his voice calm as he speaks to Panaka. "It would be no different than if we landed on a system controlled by the Federation. Except that the Hutt's aren't looking for her, which gives us the advantage."

And with that it's settled, no one would argue with a true Jedi and feel Qui-Gons eyes on me, knowing from the careful look he gives that he does indeed remember me.

"I'm sure the queen's sister was not questioning your authority Captain Panaka," he says, even now sticking up for me as he often did then. "But merely acting out of love."

"And what is more important than love?" I find myself saying.

"Balance."

Obi-Wan looks between us confused but I find relief in Qui-Gon being here, of all the Jedi that could have come I have faith in him.

"Exactly, which is why love is just as important as apathy," I say, remembering the words I spoke five years ago. "For balance." I look between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan and clear my throat. "Thank you for coming to my sister's aid."

"I dare say you had it half-handled by the time we got there," Qui-Gon says. "You are a talented combatant."

"Well, I'm not much else but that," I say almost bitterly and look at the radar. "Come, we better get the R2 droid who saved our lives before he's blown off like the others."

I stand back with Obi-Wan as Panaka presents the droid to Sabe, despite Qui-Gon recognising me instantly his padawan is still oblivious to the fact he's standing beside one of his own.

"Without a doubt it saved the ship as well as our lives."

"It is to be commended," Sabe says. "What is its number?"

"R2-D2, your highness."

I can't help but smile. "Thank you, R2-D2."

I can feel Obi-Wan's eyes lingering on me, confused by my exchange with Qui-Gon but it's hardly as if he'd assume I was once a Jedi. It's something I've tried to forget myself despite just how integral it is to my very core.

"Padme clean this droid up as best you can, it deserves our gratitude."

Padme takes the R2 unit while Sabe gives permission for Qui-Gon to come forth and speak.

"Your highness, your sister Rhea has already given her approval and with your permission we're heading for a remote planet called Tatooine. It's in a system far beyond the reach of the Trade Federation."

"I do not agree with the Jedi on this," Panaka argues and I speak up.

"I do. I trust Master Qui-Gon's judgement."

Panaka knows well my past, as to the most important members of padme's security, and whilst he's hesitant to listen to my judgement Padme trusts it completely and with that it is settled but I still feel the Padawan's inquisitive eyes on me and so I meet them, holding his gaze as I leave the room.

I sit alone with Padme, helping her clean up R2.

"Do you know the Jedi?" she asks me now we're alone.

"Master Qui-Gon is a Jedi I respect greatly, he has views different to the council, similar to mine," I tell her, remembering him well. "He was not my master but he took it upon himself to mentor me at times, and so he no doubt recognises me although he has not said anything. As for his Padawan I can't say I do, although there we many of us and he seems to be older than I."

She nods and asks "Do you still regret leaving?"

The question surprises me, it's always been a forbidden topic amongst our family, but it's just us now. She was just a baby when I was taken by the order, whilst Sola and I reconnected with tears I was a stranger to her, but thankfully five years have remedied that.

"Sometimes," I admit to her. "I miss having a purpose, in some ways I miss the family the Jedi are at its core, but its ideology... it was my master who in fact encouraged me to leave. She said how I viewed things was not wrong, and that I had the potential to be a great Jedi but that my mind and heart were too strong for the council." I reach across and squeeze her hand. "That is one thing we have in common, our headstrong minds and hearts, it's like arguing with a stone wall. Even at fourteen they knew I'd be too much trouble. Just like you are now."

She smiles. "I wouldn't call myself trouble."

"Oh but you are," I smile fondly. "Be proud of it."

She looks behind me and I follow her eyes to find Qui-Gon. "Rhea, may I have a word?"

"Of course master," I say and Padme leaves us.

He's unsure of what to say at first, still surprised to have come across me. "Sister of the queen, is this what you're doing now? Causing trouble for yet another poor unfortunate council?"

"I don't intend to but somehow I always seem to, much like yourself," I say, smiling to myself. "It is a relief to see you Master, it truly is."

"I'm surprised you were so welcoming, considering how you left," he tells me and my smile fades. "You were five or so when they found you weren't you? Many argued you were too old to be trained."

"To be indoctrinated," I correct. "I was six with two loving parents and two sisters. My parents gave me up seeing it as an honour but I was taken from everything I'd ever known and loved only to be told I was not allowed to love anymore, that my very emotions were poison."

He nods in understanding. "Yes, that is the great irony isn't it? We are meant to love all, have unlimited compassion and yet not for anyone in particular."

"You see," I breathe out in relief. "It's madness."

"It's order," he quickly corrects, but does admit. "Too much order. Even Obi-Wan my own padawan pleads with me not to go against the council. Do you remember him?"

"No," I answer, shaking my head. "At least I don't think so."

"That's fair, he is older than you," he says and tells me "I'm afraid he does not have much left to learn from me, and I know your Master Billaba still feels the loss of her own padawan."

I let out a humourless laugh, trying to push back those feelings of regret. "I left to find my parents and yet they didn't want me back, I loved them and they loved me but viewed me leaving the most prestigious order in the galaxy as a great shame whilst grooming my sister to be queen."

"You love her greatly," he states. "But you feel no purpose."

His words cut deep because they are true. "Are my emotions so obvious?"

"Very," he says. "But you always did feel greatly, you had a great passion for justice that I remember well, a instinctual need to protect."

I look away, knowing it was that very thing that caused me to be expelled from the order, even if I said I left, even if that's what I told my parents and everyone else, I know the truth and so does he.

"We must be getting close to Tatooine," I say clearing my throat and he follows me into the cockpit where Obi-Wan sits with the pilot as they prepare to land.

"That's it, Tatooine."

"There's a settlement."

"Land near the outskirts. We don't want to attract attention."

Qui-Gon takes over and I follow his padawan to the see the state of the shield generator for myself, not liking any of this but knowing she is safe enough here until we can get it working.

"I'm afraid I'm not one for mechanics," I tell him as we examine it. "But it's not good is it?"

"The hyperdrive generator is gone, we'll need a new one," he tells me and I sigh knowing in the outer rims very little is done for the Jedi out of the kindness of peoples hearts.

"Ilooks like we might be doing business with the Tutt's after all," I remark as Qui-Gon walks in.

"Well that will complicate things," he says and warns "Be wary, I sense a disturbance in the force."

Obi-Wan nods. "I feel it also master."

I look away, surprised despite my years disconnected to also feel that something isn't quite right. The one thing I've retained from my training is my gut instinct and talent for combat, a warrior on a pacifist planet.

"Don't let them send any transmissions," Qui-Gon instructs and says to me "Rhea, I recommend you stay with the ship, if any troubles come this way two Jedi are better than one."

Obi-Wan's head whips around to me "What?"

Qui-Gon leaves as quickly as he came giving me a look that can only be described as a very intentional oops, leaving it for me to explain.

"I'm sorry did I hear that right?" Obi-Wan asks me. "Jedi?"

I hang my head, finding it difficult to confess after so long. "I was."

His eyebrows narrow together, his voice softening. "Was?"

"Rhea Naberrie," I tell him, the name I was called then. "I- Qui-Gon was just pulling your leg, I was a padawan but I was never a real Jedi."

Many younglings and padawans do not make it to the rank of Jedi, many are sent to the service corps if the council does not believe they have the aptitude despite having the force so it's not unusual for there to be failed Jedi, but he's intune enough to know it's not that type of situation.

"But you know him," he says and presses "And he knows you."

"Yes, you're correct," I stiffly acknowledge but thankfully we're interrupted by Rabe before I have to explain anything. "Yes Rabe?"

"Lady Amidala," she anxiously begins. "Padme has gone with Master Qui-Gon."

"What?" I blurt out and she stammers.

"She insisted upon going with him."

"Of course she has," I sigh, knowing she wouldn't just sit on board, that she has to be out there doing something to help remedy this situation and bite back my frustration. "Thank you."

She leaves and I bring a hand to my forehead, wishing she at least told me first so I could go with her, but Qui-Gon is right in needing us to protect the ship.

"Rhea?" Obi-Wan asks, concerned.

"Sorry she-" I laugh at the irony. "I was just telling Padme she's just as much trouble as I was at her age and to be proud of it, but oh it's not as fun being the one dealing with trouble."

"Do you want to go after her?" he asks me and I shake my head.

"No, Master Qui-Gon is right, we need to stay with the ship," I decide, for once in my life following orders considering all her handmaidens are on board and Padme would be devastated if any were to be harmed. "She will be safe with them, and it's best I'm here in case there's any trouble. I trust Qui-Gon's judgement."

"So you do know him," he says and notices how I tense. "You were a Jedi."

"A padawan," I correct and realise we are indeed having this conversation and so I spit it out. "I left the order."

He's absolutely bewildered and can't hide the judgement in his voice. "Why?"

I let out a dangerous laugh, knowing not to get into this. "Oh no, today is not the day for an ideological argument."

"Ideology? You sound like my master."

"Good, because he's the one who mentored me," I reply much to his surprise. "Oh come on, a troublesome young padawan with a big mouth and tough head, someone had to."

He sighs, indeed matching what Qui-Gon told me. "Of course he did, but- but why didn't he train you then?"

"He had you it seems and I already had a master, Master Billaba," I tell him and lean against the broken generator. "She was like a mother to me, wise and strict but fair, she wasn't as wrapped up in the ideology as much as some of the others."

"Like who?"

"Yoda," I answer, almost scoffing at how obvious it should be.

"You can't insult Master Yoda," he scoffs back at me.

"I can insult anyone I like, and Yoda might be old and supposedly wise but he's too caught up in the nonsense to allow any sort of reform," I argue, having indeed stumbled into an ideological argument with this padawan. "The Jedi Order needs to grow and evolve instead of being stuck in its archaic ways, being Qui-Gons padawan I know you know what I mean."

He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Of course I know what you mean and I don't disagree, but to leave the order over it-"

"I didn't have a choice," I grit out, reliving the argument I had with my mother years ago and back track. "I was taken older than most and from the moment I was taken there all I heard from the council was to cease attachment, 'oh the girl is dangerous because she misses her mother.'"

"But attachment is dangerous-"

"I was a kid!" I end up snapping at him.

"We all were," he argues back. "We all had family but it was our duty-"

"Duty? What duty did we have as children? We were kidnapped and indoctrinated, I was old enough when I was taken to remember it. If it was up to them they'd have us no more sentient than those damned battle droids!"

He scoffs. "Battle droids? You mean what the Jedi have just saved you from?"

"I was doing perfectly fine before you came," I refute.

"Is that why everyone had been rounded up by the Trade Federation?"

I laugh dangerously. "Classic Jedi, thinking you know everything, so frustratingly arrogant, and wasn't it your job as the Chancellors ambassadors to prevent that from happening in the first place?"

"I'm sorry, but as a military advisor isn't it your job to prevent us from having to get involved?"

"It's a little hard when my planet won't allow a military to be built!"

"And that's my problem?"

"Yes!" I exclaim. "It is the Republic's job to protect the planets within it and it's your job as their army to enforce that!"

"We aren't the Republics-"

"Then why are you here?" I retort, gesturing about to our surroundings. "If it isn't your problem, and you aren't doing the Republics bidding then why are you here?"

"Because it is the job of a Jedi to protect the innocent," he finishes and I clamp my mouth shut. "Only someone consumed by their hatred would think otherwise."

"Hatred?" I repeat, truly astounded that he sees everything so black and white to interpret justified anger as hatred. "My home has just been invaded and my sister's life is in danger and we are stranded on a planet in the outer rims hoping we'll come across what we need to fix the engine to get off here before the Trade Federation begins killing people." Now he's the one who clamps his jaw shut. "And I would rather not be standing here being interrogated by a padawan who should be doing his job instead of criticising me for leaving a corrupt organisation I don't agree with."

He sighs, realising fighting with me will only lead to more fighting rather than a victory and says "My master sees its flaws but he doesn't leave it, he works with them to help people."

"Then I applaud him, he is a good man," I say, our respect for Qui-Gon being the only common ground between us. "But I help my people in other ways, which is what I'm trying to do now."

I turn my back on him and he reluctantly follows as I march back through the ship to the cockpit for an update. "Have you heard from Master Qui-Gon?"

"Not yet my lady," they answer and I'm tempted to go after them but remember why I must stay.

"So we sit and wait," I find myself muttering.

"Yes," Obi-Wan says and his sarcasm is enough to make me want to leave this ship regardless. "Perhaps you could meditate, maker knows you need to."

"Or perhaps you could keep your nose where it belongs."

"Gladly," he says but before either of us can leave the cockpit a transmission comes through from Qui-Gon and we reluctantly share the same air as we listen to their dilemma, realising we lack the currency to negotiate with the Tatooine.

"Are you sure there's nothing left on board?"

"A few containers of supplies," Obi-Wan says, calmer than I am. "The queens wardrobe maybe but not enough to barter with, not in the amount you're talking about."

"There's little on board, everything of worth remains on Naboo," I say, frustrated. "Can you force their hand?"

"I'm afraid I cannot," he answers as Obi-Wan shakes his head at me for suggesting methods that are not the Jedi way. "But it's alright, I'm sure another solution will present itself. I'll check back later."

It goes silent and Obi-Wan and I sit there together, the tension between us thick as I wish I'd just gone with Qui-Gon, knowing I'd be better use there than arguing with his padawan.

Obi-Wan's the first to break the tension "Are you sure there is nothing we can barter with?"

"Not enough to buy a shield generator with," I mutter as the direness of the situation truly hits me. "We need to get the queen to the senate."

"I know," he assures me, his voice becoming lighter when he feels the pure anxiety that begins to fill me. "And we will and in the meantime, like you said, she's safer here than on Naboo."

"Well, I'm not wrong," I say but still shake my head. "I don't like sitting here and waiting for a solution to present itself."

"You said you trust Master Qui-Gon's judgement," he says and implores "I myself question it at times but we must both trust it now."

"It's not your master's judgement I question," I assure him, my anger forgotten. "It's the senates will to act on this invasion."

I expect him to blindly defend the senate but he surprises me "Politicians will be politicians, I don't trust him and you're smart enough not to either, but you must have faith that we will find a solution to the Trade Federations attack."

"My sister's only been queen for a few months, she's fourteen and facing the worst catastrophe in living memory," I lament, knowing this is not what she should be dealing with and yet she has taken it upon herself with nothing but grace. "She's brilliant and I have full faith in her, but I worry others will not listen to a fourteen year old girls demands for action."

He doesn't dismiss my concerns and instead says "Well with you advocating for her I dare say they'll be forced to listen or else be brutally rebuked until they have no choice but to agree to your demands."

I smile to myself and see a glimpse of one on his own face as I admit "Well, you aren't wrong."

Our eyes meet and this time it's different, there's no distrust or hostility and he's the bigger person in saying "I'm sorry for arguing, I should have listened when you warned me against it."

"Don't apologise, you didn't know what you were getting into," I admit and force myself to follow his example. "Although I am sorry as well, you have not faulted in your duty to help us."

I reserve my temperament for those who refuse to listen, I thought he was one of those until now but he's proven me wrong in my own misgivings.

"Let's start over," he says and I wonder if he's thinking the same about me as he extends his hand. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

I look at it still slightly hesitant but trust my instincts when they tell me to trust him. "Rhea Amidala."

He offers me a gentle smile, and as I take his hand I can feel the force, can feel a good old soul in him, a light that's so rare even amongst the Jedi that it stuns me. A light I'd convinced myself wasn't real, but here it is in front of me.

And perhaps for the first time I care what someone else thinks of me as I hope he sees the same in me.

#obi wan kenobi x oc #illicit affairs #wildfirewildflower #obi wan kenobi x amidala!oc #obi wan kenobi x f!oc #obi wan kenobi x original character #obi-wan kenobi x oc #obi-wan kenobi x original character #obi-wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan kenobi fanfiction

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dreaming-of-the-endless · 1 year

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The Endless Outsider - Chapter 2

“I can spend an eon listing the numbers of how little chance you had to slip through the crack of one universe and slipping into this one but you are here, where you are not wanted nor belong. Until this universe breathes its last, it’s your curse to remain here – an Outsider in this realm.”

You didn't want to die and slip into the Endless Universe, but stuck you are. In a time where the universe was still young, you're forced to forge a bond with a certain Dream Lord. Part of you fear it will end in tears but another is eager to see how much you can deviate from destiny. And if he's unhappy about that, boo for him.

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

It was impossible; he should not have been imprisoned so easily – in his own realm.

But Dream stared at his cell, the bars won’t bend, the walls remained steadfast and firm and no matter how much he tried he could not will himself out of it. He was trapped. He had barely reached for his tools: his ruby and sand before they threw him into the loneliest corner of the dreaming. Far from the heart of his realm to be forgotten like yesterday’s refuse.

He stared at the sigils he had carved into his walls. He had not wanted to do this but as soon as he heard the first screams, he knew he had to beg for help. By right he should have been untouchable, a master of his domain but these gods, so old and coming from the Void – the home of his mother ensnared him thoroughly. They knew his weakness, they knew the magic that would bind him and so he was bound.

Was this a punishment from Mother Night? For leaving her realm and entering into the universe as all of the Endless were ordained to govern over? He remembered how she had shouted and yelled even as Destiny tried to placate her. He had not seen her so angry not even when Time and Night first separated and she took them all to hide in the Void.

His hand brush over Destiny’s sigil and so he called.

“Brother, I am not in my gallery and this is but a carving but I touch your sigil and I call upon you for aid.” He rasped, forcing down whatever power he could into this summons. It should not scare him just how draining it felt.

For a moment he heard nothing but silence and then Destiny appears, like a faded shade, “Brother, I hear your call but I cannot aid you,”

Despair flooded him, “Destiny, my subjects are suffering and my realm is in chaos, I beseech you to aid me. I humble myself before you.”

“The usurpers of your realm have broken no laws and have bound you in accordance to the laws we agreed upon. I am bound to obey and cannot aid you.” His brother answered back, each word pierced his existence as he heard it. Yet he knew; he knew Destiny would not aid him, not in this but he had hoped…

“Destiny, please, I am your brother –” he added, trying to mask how his voice wanted to crack.

“I cannot aid you, not in this. Forgive me, brother.” And then he was gone.

More screams echoed in his cell and it was all Dream could do not to join them. Destiny may not help him but he has other siblings. So he steeled himself and brushed his hand upon Death’s sigil.

One by one they refused – Death coldly warned Dream that they were not to interfere in each other’s realm, Destruction and Despair echoed sympathies but could not offer any aid. As Despair’s voice faded away, Dream stared at the last two sigils. He turned away from Desire’s and placed his hand upon Delight’s sigil – he had not wanted to and he knew Delight was not the sort to involve in combat but he was desperate.

He could feel each of his peoples, dreams, nightmares and denizens of his realms crying out for him, praying and begging for his help.

He thinks of them and summons Delight.

Except it wasn’t her; Dream watched as Delight -? Appeared but she looked…different, no…she was different.

“Delight…?”

The being that was once Delight spun on her feet, her eyes change colours and she had a wild expression on her face – not joyful giddiness but something deeper, something...unsettling.

“Hm…hello Dream…Dream – Duh – REAM, you’re stuck and that’s new.” Her voice floated, sing-song and he could see it melt.

“Sorry, I can’t help you – ” her eyes suddenly settled on one colour, “I am changing.”

Changing? “What do you mean, changing?”

Her eyes changed again, green and blue, brown and red, and her form morphed as if undecided, “I drank the void, from this poor mortal but she’s not mortal, not anymore, mother made sure of that. She was so lost, so - so I drank it all and now…now I am changing.”

Dream wanted to ask what she had meant, why she felt…strange but Delight twirled and vanished from his cell.

He stared at the empty place where his sister had been – what happened to her? She felt…different, odd, strange. And she was changing? What did that meant? Did it have something to do with him being imprisoned? Also, what did she meant by a mortal? A mortal and their mother? That could not be, Night did not care for the lives of the beings outside the void, it mattered not to her if they lived or died; they were never her concern.

Another piercing scream and Dream decided this was one mystery he would handle once he was freed. With great reluctance, he turned to Desire’s sigil.

Killala’s face came into his mind, her and Sto-Oa kissing each other as he watched. Then Desire, the one sibling he thought was his closest, his best friend, laughing as they recount how Sto-Oa and Killala were in each other’s embrace and finding Dream’s anguish funny.

He had not spoken to them since.

His finger traced the heart he had carved and he tried to remember that he was not the only one hurting, his subjects need him and if he had to beg Desire’s help? So be it.

“I do not stand in my gallery, but I touch your sigil, sibling.” He said, swallowing his bitterness, trying to remove Killala’s expression his mind.

Desire flickered into his cell, their face frowning as they stared at around his cell.

“Well, what kind of trouble are you in now?” they asked – as if Killala never happened, as if they had not betrayed him in the worst kind of way. As if he was at fault for being imprisoned!

Dream said, quietly, “I have lost my realm. I need to get it back.”

“Whyever in the world would I help you?” His sibling scoffed.

“We are siblings. I plead for assistance,” he responded before adding, “I am humble.”

And he was, Desire was his last hope, his other siblings were rule bound and he knew Desire tended to do whatever they please, looking for loopholes to exploit, flaws to bend to their will. It was why he had loved them, enjoyed their company above the others.

In another timeline Desire would have been asked first without hesitation.

For a moment said sibling pondered upon Dream’s predicament before sighing, “Oh, my foolish brother, I am Desire,” they said, emphasizing on their name. For a horrifying moment Dream thought that that was it, he was on his own; all his siblings had forsaken him and he felt Despair’s cold embrace around his very being.

Instead Desire shook their head and stared down on him.

“I cannot send you an army,” they continued, “but I can send you a lover.”

A lover? No! The last thing he needed was a lover, and he said so angrily, “I do not want a lover.”

“I can make you one,” the continued, ignoring the glare at their way. Desire lets out a laugh, “Oh, poor brother, you are too shadowy, too dark and broody. I shall send you someone to lighten things up.”

“I want my kingdom. I do not want to lighten –”

“Good luck. Don’t hurt her,” Desire added and before Dream could make them stop, drop this foolishness, Desire vanished with a wink. Dream barely had enough time to call them out when his cell was filled with light.

She was beautiful, her whole being glowed with light and such power. Even for an Endless like Dream, he could feel the strength in her very being, the force of her might as she came into existence.

“Hello,” oh, her voice, her voice was so sweet, like a babbling brook and the angels singing in the air.

She tilted her head, eyeing him inquisitively, “What are you called?”

“I am…I am Dream.” He said, unable to look away.

“Is this a dream?”

“Yes, this is a dream.”

She hummed quietly, “Nice to meet you Dream. I need a name, by the way…can you give me a name?”

There’s power in a name.

Dream thinks of the many names he knew, but many felt inadequate in face of this creature. She waited patiently as he thought and thought, before finally he chooses:

“I will call you Alianora.” Of light, of purity, of constancy.

The smile she gave him would have blinded him if he were any other being. She knelt down to him, her fingers brushing his hand.

“And so I am named but you are bound here. Although surely reality here is what you wish it to be?” she noted.

“…there are rules…” he said sheepishly – rules that he would have to find a way to remove once he gained back his kingdom.

Alianora hummed, “Oh, if you’re going to worry about rules –”

Whatever Alianora wanted to say was drowned out as loud thunder cracked in his cell. Dream felt Alianora push him behind her as light flooded once more into his cell. Dream could feel the universe tears itself open and then something – someone fell into his prison with a loud thud.

The light dimmed as the air crackled with leftover energy and the two of them stared as the being lying on the floor.

Dream could taste the void lingering around the creature and for a moment he thought it was one of his jailer’s minions, come to torment him but the being – no, woman – groaned as she turned on to lie on her back.

“Fucking Dest – ow –” she winced as she lifted her head. She was dressed oddly and seemed to be wearing a crown of thorns around her head that would not have looked out of place on one of his nightmares.

But she wasn’t a subject of his realm, for no subject of his would have dared look at him in the eye, groan and mutter:

“Fuck me, not you.”

---

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

#the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #alianora #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #delight of the endless #desire of the endless #destiny of the endless #my fanfic #my writing #own post #txt post

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