#I think he could still free her and save her future but time is short

[silversiren1101]

At The End - OCKiss24 Salvadore x Minovae

I managed to find time to actually participate in a writing event! We can thank my new ADHD meds for that I'm sure. Anyway, this first is featuring my Minovae and @dmagedgoods Salvadore, who I have long cherished their relationship as much as it's fascinated me. They're what could have been and what could never be. I'm so happy with how this came out - please know I cried multiple times while writing it!

Violet eyes looked out over the city below and beyond the marble balustrade. Smoke rose from nearly every main plaza and thoroughfare, and even what seemed to be the most innocuous of alleyways as well as the highest parapets. For the first in some many decades, nay, a century, even, there was no cause for alarm from this. It wasn’t demons ravaging the last line of defense in this nation that both was and wasn’t, but now could be. The war hadn’t reached here, Nerosyan, the capital, because the war was over.

The Knight Commander had done it. Knight Commander Salvadore had closed the Worldwound. Where no other could, and it hadn’t been for lack of trying, but for all so much bloodsoaked and desperate failure, the war had finally ended.

And by a poncy, arrogant noble with a stick up his ass to rival even Iomedae’s.

Miracles, it seemed, weren’t in so short supply as the name of this age had made it seem.

Minovae sighed deeply looking out over the city with its night sky filled with smoke for the first time not from war but from celebration, her tail listlessly hanging off the edge between the balusters. Bonfires beat back the darkness, and she realized then that the smell and sight was what was making her stomach clench and eyes rimmed with wet. How much like home it was, poor battered and stripped Westcrown, whose nightly pyres weren’t out of any cause for celebration but to beat back the shadow-beasts that stalked her streets once the sun set and feared the light.

A home she knew she’d never see again.

The ache in her mind from Thrune’s brand told her as much. She’d never make it as far as Westcrown once she crossed the border of homeland. They’d take her back to Egorian, where the beginning of this end began, and they’d put the loose end that she was to close once and for all. It was coming. Soon. She knew it was. They might even be ready to disappear her as soon as she stepped from Nerosyan’s walls.

The thought only reinforced that emptiness that pervaded her. She had nothing left to fight for, anyway. Even more, she’d fought alongside heroes. She’d helped do the impossible. The Crusades were over, and she’d played no small part in it. Even the fact she wore this evening not her armor, its weight heavy and familiar comfort, but finery, felt strange. So much of her existence had been defined by steel and blood and blade and shield, and now it was drawing to a close not in the middle of a craggy field that smelled of iron, but on the night of celebration, in a gala hosted by literal royalty.  

The liquor in her glass burned comfortingly as she took another sip. ‘As strong as you have’, she’d told the man, who’d grinned and reached under the bar for something so old and dusty she hadn’t been able to catch the label. It did the trick, vapors stinging her nose and warming her throat and gut better than anything she’d had in years, and she reminded herself to thank him before she left for the night.

“Ah, here you are.”

She would have started had her senses not been dulled by drink—truthfully, this was her fifth glass. The clink of the ice as she’d knocked it back had disguised his footsteps, she surmised. He had no reason to sneak up on her tonight, and he walked with all the confidence and bravado his station and title presumed on his behalf at nearly all times.

“Here I am…”, she flicked her gaze to the corner as he came to the balcony balustrade, leaning against it, mindful of her tail where it trailed across the marble. Those icy blues locked onto hers and held that gaze firm. She might have thought it a challenge, or some type of implied order as he was oft to give, had his lips not been lightly tugged ever so upwards at their corners into a smile that was, by all accounts, warm. She stared at those lips perhaps a moment too long, before continuing. “Though I’m not sure it is really you, Sal, with such an expression on that face.”

He took no offense to the diminutive of his name. Not with her, at least. But she did note the quirk in his brow; inquisitive.

“My dear, it is a night for celebration, if you have not noticed.

“And so even the great Salvadore can afford himself a smile? I see”, she smirked.

It felt bitter. Even as happy as she truly was for him, for all of them, the emptiness of her future had tainted this night before it had even began. She quickly returned her gaze to the bottom of the glass cradled between her fingers, dangling over the edge of open air above the city below.

A heavy beat of silence passed. She knew without meeting that gaze again that he was aware something was weighing on her. He was one of the few she’d ever met that matched her ability to read nearly anyone, no matter how inscrutable.

“You should go back inside, you know. It is a night for celebration, after all”, she used his own words, hoping it would rub him wrong enough to just make him leave. “I’m sure they’ll be wondering where the man of the evening is.”

But, she knew the copious drink had taken her off her game tonight. Normally she could handle him as she did other nobles, though certainly not lightly–he’d ever been one of her most difficult rivals. Even admitting as such had rankled her, but now, here, she could only think of the term fondly. She internally cursed the sweet heat cloying her thoughts.

“Without you? Without whom this would not be possible? No, my dear, your absence has been noticeable enough. You have spent enough time endearing the night air with your appearance, when it would be much better spent on the unworthy eyes back inside.”

She snorted at that. Shook her head. “Are you saying I look nice?”

“Is that such a surprise? You look beautiful. It is a crime that the first time I have seen you in a dress, you’ve spent most of it hiding away.”

It was true. She’d been present for the opening ceremonies, of course. She’d even started the night just as lively and bright as nearly everyone else, dancing one or two waltzes with their friends—then, someone had asked her what she would do next, after all this was done.

And the brand seared into her mind had started to ache.

She swallowed down a sigh, not wanting him to hear. Her tail, heavy, almost languidly, pulled itself back up from the plummet she wanted to take before them and instead squished the air like shoulders would a shrug.

“You could have always ordered me into a dress, if you were so desperate to see it.”

“It would not have looked half as radiant on you than one donned willingly. I can see there was truth to your stories. Any lesser man in there would crumple before you, if you had your heart set on crushing theirs.”

Had he always been this funny, she wondered. No, it was the alcohol working in his favor. Still, she chuckled. Heat licked to the skin beneath her scaled cheeks. She knew she must’ve looked much like a watermelon then–those green-tinted opals sitting in a sea of red.

“Alright, alright. Need I tattle to Daeran with how much you’re trying to butter me up?” 

It was an empty threat and joke, they both knew. The only thing Daeran would be mad at was that he was not here to see and hear this for himself. 

“When I left, he was last doing what I expected you  to be doing all evening. Dancing the night away, breaking those hearts with each hand he trades for another.”

“I’m glad he’s enjoying himself. It’s just… louder in there than I remember…”, she answered wistfully. “I’m not used to being around so many people again. At least, not in a war camp… without my armor.”

He knew all about her past navigating through galas and parties much like these. She’d told him as such, how she used to stalk her prey on their own grounds, playing their own game; the Hellknight who’d eschew her armor for a dress and weapon for an invitation to dance, luring the guilty in with honey only to bring them to the guillotine all the same.

She only hoped he’d accept the excuse. Just telling him the truth would kill her. Him, possibly, too. Literally. The last thing she wanted on her record before she went to the Boneyard was taking down the angelic hero who’d ended the Crusades in a blackened, infernal blaze of her brand detonating.

“It has quieted some. The wine has seen to that, and most have had their choices in dance.”

She hummed. “Then surely my presence isn’t that missed.”

“On the contrary”—a shift of movement caught her attention. She looked back up from her glass toward him once more, and found a hand, fingers lightly curled upward, extended in invitation towards her.

“This entire Crusade, you have bragged about your prowess on the dance floor and told me of your greatest triumphs taking down ‘arrogant blowhard fops of my caliber,’”—she felt a rush of even hotter flame to her cheeks and a rattle shook her tail as he’d remembered one of the rants she’d gone on after particularly pissing her off—“, and yet, I have yet to see it for myself. I insist: would you have but a single dance with me, Lady Minovae?”

She stared. First, at his hand, those tan fingers extended invitingly. By all accounts they should be as rough and calloused as hers, and yet they looked untouched by the horrors of the war they’d both fought through, side by side. His nails were perfectly cut and filed, and shone beneath the moonlight. Hells, she swore there was a light glow emanating from it, but she had no idea if it was just from how bright the moon was, or because of the angelic power coursing through him. It looked warm, despite him being a dhampir.

And then her gaze shifted upward, to the rest of him. His blue eyes had narrowed, warm, inviting, despite how piercingly cold their color was. She noticed then that the night had gotten to his usual perfectly manicured and groomed self. Some hairs had fallen from his typical neat style, wayward curls—curls!—teasing his forehead and giving him an almost roguish appeal that made her breath catch. For once, he looked real. He looked mortal. At this, his highest point in power, literally touched by the Heavens and the Abyss alike, Salvadore looked more like a living, breathing, touchable person than at any other point in which she’d known him. He didn’t rise in her that distrust and disgust that normally appeared when she lay eyes upon a noble, even with him dressed in the brightest white and gold finery she’d ever seen.

He looked… 

Warm. Handsome. Inviting. Mortal. An ally. A friend. Something more. Her breath caught for a moment. She found herself staring at his lips again, sitting above his chiseled chin and jawline. Had they always looked so… soft? He was doing that soft smile again, confident and controlled, but welcoming. The kind that made you let down your guard, of which the whiskey clouding her thoughts certainly wasn’t helping.

“A good kisser?”, she snorted derisively. “I didn’t know they taught you how to kiss in noble school. I certainly don’t know where else you would’ve learned given how insufferable you are. Unless that mysterious ‘mentor’ of yours taught you that, too.”

Salvadore only made a low noise in the back of his throat, confident and knowing. The look he shot her was much the same. “You are welcome to a demonstration, if you need the proof, my lady knight, Arangeir.”

Her boisterous laugh was all the answer he needed: never in a million years.

She remembered the moment in a sudden flash like it was yesterday. She couldn’t even remember what had triggered that conversation, but she certainly remembered the tease and invitation now. It hadn’t been a million years, but she wouldn’t get a million years. Sal might. He and Daeran together. But she wouldn’t. She might not even get a week. Daeran would forgive her for this, she knew… and well, if he didn’t, she supposed she wouldn’t be around long to suffer it.

“…A dance?”, she licked her lips, suddenly feeling overly warm, overly flushed. Her dress exposed much of her back and shoulders, letting her feathers and scales breathe , and only went to about her mid-thigh regardless. Still, she felt hot. She felt stupid, too, but did it matter? “You can have your dance, if I can have something in return.”

That piqued his curiosity. Salvadore drew his hand back slightly, if only because he’d straightened his posture. His head tilted, and a brow raised. Something glinted in his eye. Concern? She didn’t care.

“Do you remember months ago… You claimed to be a good kisser. I didn’t believe you. What if I told you I still don’t?”

Her pulse was racing now. She could feel it thud-thud-thudding in her chest. It got even worse as realization dawned upon him.

She half expected a slap; he was a taken man now, after all. He might have even just turned around and gone back inside, which, fine. For the moment, though, he only stared at her. She could tell he was trying to decipher why she was asking for this now, why in the Hells now? Could she blame him? Of course not, he had no idea the severity of the truth, of just how little time she had left to do what she wanted and be a little crazy before everything ended.

What she didn’t expect was for those fingers to return. Closer. Curled under her chin.

She gasped lightly, hotly, as Salvadore clasped her jaw. Those hands were cold, as she thought, but the feel of that icy chill across her flushed skin felt almost like healing magic dancing across wounds, knitting them closed. 

Her tail vibrated anxiously, filled with so much energy where it had lain dead before. She could feel her feathers rising from neck to tail tip, fluffing up in that way that made her look like an alarmed cat.

Their eyes held each others’, and his additionally held a question. 

Now or never.

“You promised a demonstration”, she merely answered.

He needed no other reassurance.

Their height difference made it more difficult than it should have been, but Salvadore had been only truthful in his claims. He knew exactly what to do.

A hand pressed to the flat of her back, directly over the strip of feathers running down her spine and scales surrounding them—now running icily themselves trying to cool her down. She briefly wondered if he even noticed with the chill in his own hands, but let it drift away as soon as it had come. He pressed her close and up, bidding her to her toes as he himself confidently arched downward.

Soft. They were soft. How funny it was, she thought, that such iron and coldness could come from those lips only for them to be so damn soft. Softer than hers. Theirs pressed against the other, and her eyes slipped closed upon the gentle impact. She mapped them in the darkness behind her eyelids, each and every crease, the cupid’s bow, the feel of his breath across her face.

When had she last been kissed? She didn’t remember. Wetness rimmed her eyes again. She didn’t even love him. Love had escaped her at every turn, snatched away always and viciously by circumstance. All she could think of was the emptiness, of what hadn’t been and what she’d never had. His lips right then, for only this brief moment, were filling that yawning void. It was a piece that didn’t fit in this puzzle. Not perfectly. But for a moment, it was filled.

Then pressing. Then prodding. Further still, he took it, and she went rigid in shock before melting as his tongue breached what should have been where this had ended. It brought with it the taste of wine, luxurious and more opulent than any her salary would have spared. Something in her found it funny that for as much as she’d always tormented him about her dislike of fine wines, he’d still found a way to share a glass with her.

At the end. Of everything.

#oc: minovae arangeir #oc: Salvadore #ockiss24 #MANY TEARS were shed writing this #obv this is one of the darker timelines I could see Mino falling into - but is it truly too late? #I think he could still free her and save her future but time is short #where is regill in this? she didn't become more to him in this timeline - with her companion quest unresolved he wasn't pushed towards her #the loneliest and most doomed Mino is a selfish and reckless Mino who realizes she has nothing left to lose

[erosia-rhodes]

Speculation on Mizu’s heritage

Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix is one of the best things I’ve seen all year. As I’ve been rewatching it, I couldn’t help but speculate on Mizu’s heritage, and I wanted to share my theory so we can all laugh at how wrong I was in a few years. (I am notoriously bad at guessing plot twists. I was totally wrong about how Wandavision and Loki season 1 would end.)

Spoilers and speculation behind the jump.

Short version: Mizu’s mother was a white woman and her father was the Shogun. The Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, put the bounty on Mizu’s life because she was proof that the Shogun broke his own laws.

Who Would Want to Kill a Baby?

We know that there has been a bounty on Mizu’s head since she was a baby. There are only three reasons I can think of for putting a hit out on a child who’s just been born and couldn’t have personally wronged anyone yet:

1) To deny them an inheritance.

2) To eliminate proof of an affair.

3) To eliminate proof of a crime.

The woman that claims to be Mizu’s mother is Japanese, so Mizu assumes her father must be white. But once Fowler reveals that Mizu’s “mother” was actually her maid, it opens up the possibility that Mizu’s mother was white and her father was Japanese.

We know that someone is willing to a pay a lot of money to kill Mizu, but the maid also ran off with enough money to take care of Mizu for several years, so at least one person in this mess is wealthy. We also know that someone still wants Mizu dead when she's an adult because men come to kill her when her husband rats her out, so she’s still a threat to someone else’s interests at that time.

If the Shogun slept with a white woman and fathered a mix-raced child as a result, that would fulfill all three reasons to put a bounty on a baby. Killing her would remove any chance that a bastard might try to blackmail her way into an inheritance, it would remove proof that the Shogun had an affair, and most importantly, it would destroy evidence that he violated his own laws against Western influence by sleeping with a white woman.

But the True Culprit is…

But I don’t think the Shogun put the bounty on Mizu’s life. I think it was the Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, for several reasons:

1) Lady Itoh is willing to kill people who learn that her husband broke his own laws.

When the nobles are trying to escape the fire in the finale, Lady Itoh makes her sons lock the door behind them and sentence the other Lords to death because they witnessed the Shogun’s shame, the revelation that he broke his own laws by dealing with Fowler, a white man. She’s demonstrated that she’s willing to kill people to destroy proof of her husband’s violations, so she’d do the same to a mixed-race baby he fathered. It would also explain why Mizu’s maid never claimed the bounty herself; she would have been targeted for death too because she knew about the Shogun’s crime. She probably took whatever money was in the house when the killers came for Mizu, and went on the run as much to save her own life as Mizu's.

2) The woman’s a sadist.

Lady Itoh does everything she can to make Akemi’s life hell once she marries into the family. She saddles her with bitchy attendants and serves her disgusting food at the banquet, and finishes it off with the cooked remains of the bird Akemi tried to free. Then she sends her two more birds the next day, claiming they’re breakfast and lunch. I have no trouble believing this woman would put a hit on a baby!

3) She’s a hardliner against Western influence

After the fire, Lady Itoh orders her sons to destroy 2000 guns which they could have used in the future against their enemies because she’d so fiercely against Western influence. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who came up with the law banning white people and talked her husband into enacting it. That would explain why the Shogun was willing to violate the law, because he didn’t completely believe in it and only enacted it to get his wife off his back.

It Fits a Common Theme of Revenge Stories

Another reason I think Lady Itoh is the ultimate villain is because it fits the common theme that revenge is futile. Revenge usually destroys the person seeking it just as much as anyone they go after. There is a famous quote from Confucius that says, "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." The implication is that the second one is for yourself.

If it turns out that Mizu has been going after the only four men in the country who couldn’t be her father, it would demonstrate how misguided revenge quests are. She’s spent her whole life pouring hatred into the wrong mission.

It would also be a painful twist to know that Mizu was in the same room with Lady Itoh in the finale, but she was focused on killing Fowler instead of realizing that her true enemy was fleeing out the back door with everyone else.

How It Will All Sort Out

I predict that Mizu will eventually learn the truth about her parentage and ultimately target Lady Itoh for death, not just for revenge, but so she can permanently remove the bounty on her head and live her life freely as a woman.

Akemi might end up assisting Mizu since Lady Itoh is also her enemy. Akemi will probably spend season two battling Lady Itoh for control of the household, and thus the country. If Akemi can put her husband in place as the Shogun, she could remove the bounty on Mizu's head.

If Taigan ends up working as a castle guard, this might put him in conflict with Mizu and Akemi if they target Lady Itoh since he would be honor bound to protect her.

It will be interesting to see how it all sorts out!

ETA: I misspelled Lady Itoh's name, sorry! (According to the subtitles it's Itoh, not Ito) I think I fixed every instance.

#blue eye samurai #netflix #blue eye samurai spoilers #mizu #taigen #akemi #mizu blue eye samurai #lady itoh

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Brand New One Shot - First Preview

It’s time for a new one shot! I promise I will finish “Dress Up” in the very near future but I wanted to get a jumpstart on this! No active warnings for this preview, but there is a very very subtle hint to something naughty if you squint lol

You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, he was kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!

Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?

When you had first spoken to him all those month ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meet, and ever since then it was nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.

You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”

You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.

A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. It was late, way later than you should be awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most night, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Laying awake in your bed wasn’t helping these thoughts, but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.

You glanced over to the fire place, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fire place, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.

“What the hell am I going to do…”

Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”

Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.

“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”

You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.

“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”

“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”

Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”

The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.

“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly, but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”

“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.

You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #my writing #preview #oh where could this be leading :) #if you know the prompt this was based on you know exactly where it’s leading haha

[motherloads]

After the Storm

Just finished watching OPLA, and I have been inspired. Watching it whilst doing my readings for class got me hyped. Now, I'm watching The Little Mermaid and a little something piqued my interest.

I'm a sucker for crossovers that people never create, but do be warned all of my fics are literally the same. I realized this while typing this out. Oops lol.

Couldn't decide between Sanji and Zoro, both very lovely beings. I eventually did figure out who but I love tough decision-making.

Summary: Reader silently grieves her loss of her family. Fortunately, she focuses on her new found feelings for a certain Pirate Hunter. Not one to return feelings, she feels herself begin to spiral over his ignorance.

A jump that creates worry and a short confession ensues.

-> Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

-> One Piece/Percy Jackson Crossover

-> Warnings: None!

⋆｡°✩

So if you need a hero Just look in the mirror No one’s gonna save you now So you better save yourself

"I like you," She broadly proclaims to the green-haired man in front of her. Tapping her foot patiently, she awaits his answer. His look gave no indication that he felt anything about her broad claim. Still, she smiles up at him, waiting.

"I know," He answers instead, "You tell me every week since we met. My answer won't change." She pouts at his answer, shaking her head in denial.

"People's hearts always change, Zoro! You may never know when you will fall in love with me," She teases, poking his arm in a teasing manner. Instead of waiting for his response, she hums a goodbye, skipping away from the man who made no move to leave the spot he was rooted to.

Once she was gone, he felt his shoulders sag, feeling the stress of her new proclamation take a toll on him. It wasn't as if he didn't have any interest in her because he absolutely did.

But, in order to become the greatest Swordsman, he couldn't afford any distractions. Whether it would make him feel things he silently longed for.

"Luffy," She speaks up, finding the captain in the kitchen and eating the leftovers of Sanji's meal. The boy perks up at his name, smiling at the woman with a mouth filled with food, "I need to speak with you."

Taking a big gulp of his milk, Luffy pats the seat next to him, "What do you need? How has your stay been since you joined the crew!" When she sits, he slings an arm around her, "Had any luck with that goal of yours?"

Luffy, ever so oblivious of her onslaught to Zoro had assumed she had another goal in motion. He was not wrong per se, but she had put off that goal when she realized it may not be feasible.

"Don't think it's worth pursuing anymore," She fiddles with her thumbs, ignoring the pain she felt from the memories resurfacing of her family. "It'll never happen anyways. It's an impossible goal that I don't think anyone could ever get."

She missed them.

"Why not? No pirate should ever have to give up their dream!" He stands up abruptly, slamming his hands on the table, "You can't give up! I believe in you, whatever your goal may be!"

She laughs at Luffy's free spirit, the way he held himself as if there were no current problems in this world. As if the bounty now over his head wasn't a looming future of what his life would be like as a pirate.

"You are really like him," She muses, pushing Luffy's shoulder playfully, "Every time I speak to you, it feels like I'm speaking to an old friend."

"Boyfriend, perhaps?" Sanji speaks up, entering the kitchen to prepare for the dinner, "What a shame, thought I could have you all to myself!"

Luffy snickers at his comment as she rolls her eyes at his words, "Just an old friend. Someone I miss dearly." She stands up, waving at the two who waved back, "I'm going to take a quick nap. Tell me when the food is ready." She leaves after hearing both the men confirm.

Her shoes hit the floor as she leisurely walks towards the place where she can rest with the rest of the crew. She sees the men's quarters open ajar. Looking inside, she sees Zoro sound asleep. His singular katana is beside him, resting.

She provided minimal information to the crew about who she was. She had a preference for swords, but she neglected to inform them that she had the capability to wield any weapons. She enjoyed swimming, but she avoided informing them that she could enter the depths of the ocean and be able to breathe. That the moment she stepped out, she could be as dry as the desert.

If her emotions grew haywire, she had the capability to do unimaginable things that a simple human cannot do.

It was just the perks of being Posideon's daughter, she mused in her head.

She sits on the floor near Zoro's head, analyzing his relaxed facial structures quietly. A whisper of her fingers outlined his nose structure. To his lips, she lets her hand slip away back into her lap.

Her first meeting with Zoro sticks to her mind.

The amount of alcohol she had consumed today had caused her to be slightly tipsy, but she ignored how her eyes fluttered. For once, she felt free from her thoughts.

She quickly follows behind Zoro who stops in his path. He turns his head to her figure as she pauses in her own path. "Do you need something?" He questions her, already bored by their interaction.

"I think you're really cool," She announces, taking out her hand as she introduces herself. Zoro has turned his full attention to her, crossing his arms, refusing to shake her hand. She shakes her own hand in response.

"I don't know you." He feels his lip twitch at her friendly personality peaking through with her manners. The way she played with the hem of her sweater that was already falling apart. Then, with the way her eyes glowed brightly--he felt almost entranced with how she stared at him, unafraid. He noticed that she was shoeless but somehow, her socks stayed perfectly white.

"We can get to know each other!" She smiles, stepping closer, "I'm really interested in traveling with others. I've heard several stories of Monkey D. Luffy and he is your captain, right?"

"What's it to you?" Zoro steps closer to her as well, narrowing his eyes at how her smile didn't waver.

"I'd like to join the crew! If he'd let me, of course. I have many talents, so I think I could be beneficial to you all."

"And why would I let that happen?"

She pokes his arm, a sly grin replacing her smile, "I'm too trusting and serve for the people who help me in return. You and your captain help me with my travels, and I'll help you all as well."

Zoro stays silent for a moment until he tilts his head and beckons her to follow. Following quickly, she began to walk side by side with Zoro who avoided looking at the woman who continued to eye him. He started to grow nervous with her stare until he found where he knew Luffy was.

Hopefully.

He opens the door, letting the woman step inside as she looks around the empty kitchen. Apart from the boy in the straw hat who hummed while scavenging for food. Zoro clears his throat as Luffy turns around, a grin replacing his humming.

"Zoro! Hey!" Luffy exclaims, taking his hands out from the jar of cookies as he goes to hug Zoro. Zoro ignores the look he receives from the woman as Luffy brings him in with excitement.

"I have someone who wants to speak with you." Zoro tilts his head towards the woman who smiles at Luffy. Luffy smiles back as she takes out her hand. He lets go of Zoro and shakes her hand frantically. They both opted to ignore the crumb-filled hands he gave her.

She introduces herself, as Luffy does as well. Zoro watches the interaction silently, leaning on the counter.

"It'd be an honor to join your crew. Like I told Zoro, I think I'd be beneficial to you all." Luffy, as the boy he is, immediately agreed.

Zoro shouldn't have been taken aback, but somehow he still was.

"Luffy, I understand how easygoing you were when Usopp joined, but seriously, you didn't think twice." Zoro shakes his head as the duo turns to look at him.

"I trust her! Plus, it'd be nice for Nami to have a girl friend in the crew!" Luffy exclaims, not understanding the gravity of his actions. "It'll be fine! She wouldn't betray us!"

She grins at Zoro, nudging his side with her elbow, "It'd be nice. We already have so much in common." Zoro immediately disagrees, not seeing anything that he has in common with the woman.

"I don't think--" He gets cut off, lost for words as in a blink of an eye, two swords appeared in her hands. She easily moved the weapons with ease, preventing the two men from being nicked. In a light manner, she pointed the tip of her swords at each of the men's throats.

'WOAH!" Luffy shouts, "Where did they come from?! That's sooo cool!"

Zoro is lost for words at her weapons, staring at how the swords glint because of the lights, "The material...what is it?"

"Something a friend of mine created. He's outstanding with making weapons that work on mor--that works for me." She tilts her wrist, watching the swords disappear from sight.

"How did they just disappear! That's amazing! Do you think you can teach me that?!" Luffy shakes her, his laughter makes her laugh with him.

"Unfortunately I can't. That's my little secret." She winks at Zoro. He stares at her quietly with nothing to tell her. To say that she has already made an impression on him, he felt...good.

Unknowingly to her, His heart skipped a beat at this realization.

⋆｡°✩

Without thinking, she begins to speak, "I don't think I've ever met anyone like you. You're unique, in your own way and it's cute, the way you won't give up." She paused, looking back at his singular sword, "The amount of times Usopp retold the story of your defeat is uncanny, and I applaud your effort." She traces her finger along the dents on the floor.

"Luffy and Usopp remind me of Leo. He's energetic, and he loves building otherworldly things. Not only was he a big goof, he was a fireball, literally." She smiles at the memory, "Nami is like Annabeth. They're both intelligent and do not need anyone to get out of tough situations."

"Sanji protects his friends no matter what. I heard what he did for that Chef who took him in...he really is like my brother. Although Percy doesn't flirt with every woman, they both would do anything for their loved ones."

She runs her hands softly through Zoro's hair. He didn't move an inch, "I don't belong here. I'm an outcast compared to the rest of the crew. I already have my own." She stands up, looking down at Zoro sadly, he made no indication that he was listening.

"This is my goodbye Zoro, Maybe I'll see you around?" She leaves the room, leaving the man alone.

Awake the whole time, he opens his eyes and stares at the open door. She couldn't possibly leave, she had no way to leave. They were in the middle of the ocean with no land anywhere near their vicinity. Where is she going?

Standing up, he leaves the room, looking for the woman who had taken his breath away when he fought with her. When she easily maneuvered out of his traps and created her own. At some points, he felt like she was going easy on him as if he wasn't doing the same.

He bumps into Sanji, who informs him that dinner is ready. He ignored the blonde man who took great offense to it. Sanji follows behind him when he realizes that Zoro is off.

They find Nami, who looks at them in confusion, and why Sanji gestured for her to follow. With no hesitance, she followed.

Luffy, who had begun eating and talking animatedly with Usopp paid no mind to the trio. He continued to slurp his food until he felt Nami pulling his ear and taking him with him. He grabs onto Usopp, who is dragged away to whatever they are following.

She steps on top of the head of the ship, looking down at the raging water awaiting her. The familiar hum of the ocean lulls her closer. She steps closer to the edge, taking a look behind her. There was nobody there. Now was her chance.

She already removed her shoes, finding it better to swim with only her socks. She knew her shoes wouldn't get wet if she did not allow it, but her mind screamed to leave them behind.

She spreads her arms wide, letting her body lean forward into the water. The splash she had created felt soothing against her body, as she felt her body sink lower and lower into the ocean. She feels another presence in the water. When she opens her eyes, she is face to face with Zoro.

His wound hadn't quite healed, and he struggled to swim closer to the woman who looked shocked at his appearance. His shoes were still on, he didn't stop to take them off. None of that mattered. He needed to save her.

He reaches out for her, holding her body close to his. He was slowly losing his ability to hold his breath as he kicked upwards to hit the surface of the water. When the water began to grow restless, he felt himself lose grip of the woman who made no effort to swim up with him.

In a split second, Zoro was able to breathe again. He greedily took breaths of the air he was lacking as he coughed out the water choking him. He hears a soothing voice urge him to breathe. When he sees water begin to float out of his mouth and into nothing, he allows himself to breathe.

He finds himself in a bubble in the water they were traveling in. In front of him was her. She was safe. And somehow, she was dry. That was when he realized he was dry too. Zoro pinches himself, making sure that he wasn't dreaming.

The sea creatures swim around the bubble, creating their own smaller bubbles of excitement from seeing the woman. To see the Princess back in the waters in which she belonged.

She pushes Zoro's bangs to the side, holding his face in between the palms of her hands as a soft smile blooms from her lips.

"I wasn't doing anything bad if you thought I needed saving," She whispers, "I had to go for my own good. I couldn't do this anymore."

“What—“ Zoro’s breathing finally begin to stabilize, “What is this?” He pokes at the barrier keeping them from the rest of the ocean, keeping them from sinking and losing sight of the ship. If he squinted, he could see the blurred body of the crew.

“A bubble I created.” Was her only response. She wasn’t planning on revealing anything to him. She was still convinced she was going to leave. It’s not like they could swim fast enough to catch her.

Zoro notices how the conversation about the bubble had immediately ended. Deciding to figure that answer out in later time, he answers back to the beginning of the conversation.

"I know." He tells her, "I heard everything. You have another crew. But..." He hesitates, trying to find his words, "We're friends too, right? Please, stay. "

"I don't see you as a friend, Zoro."

"I-" Zoro pauses, "I don't either."

"You don't have to tell me just because Zoro. I've asked you countless times."

"I didn't want to admit it to myself." He reveals, holding her hands in place on his face to stop her from removing herself from him, "I have to focus on my goal. I can't be distracted. Next time I see Mihawk, I need to defeat him."

'Stop being prideful, Zoro. Ignoring how you feel and assuming such things are not it."

"What about you? Leaving us because you think you're an outcast." He glares, "We need you. I need you. You can't go. We're a crew, whether you already have one or not."

“They aren’t a crew to me. They’re my family,” She reveals, looking behind Zoro as a sea creature swims past them, “I don’t think I can go back anyways. It’s not a possibility I foresee.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“I’m tired, Zoro.”

“We can be tired together.”

“A tired duo?” She laughs pathetically, “You’re really good at convincing me to stay.”

“I’d do anything to have you stay.” He informs her, bringing her hands towards his chest. She feels his heartbeat for a moment as she gazes at the previous wound he received from Mihawk. For a long moment she stared, brushing her fingers on the gauze that began to bleed through. In a careful motion, she untangled the gauze. It stuck for a moment before falling in Zoro’s lap.

She traces the outline of the harsh lines, feeling the difference in skin compared to the rest of his body. It was another minute before she collected the water surrounding them and directed it towards the wound.

The blood mixed in with the water for a moment and Zoro expected the wound begin to sting because of the salty water. Instead, he felt a soothing sensation from the wound that began to scar over. As if it had been healed for a long time.

“What are you?” He sets his eyes on her face. She avoids looking at him, staring intently at the scar on his chest, “Anything you tell me, It’ll stay with me.”

“The others—“ She looks up at the blurry figures who still looked over the edge, “I’ve told Nami snippets of who I am. I think she’s keeping them from jumping overboard.”

“Tell me.” He urges, leaning in closer to the woman, “Please.”

“Only if you don’t reject me again.”

“You’re persistent,” He replies instead, “Okay.”

She leans in response, gazing at his eyes for any more confirmation. That he would change his mind and pop the bubble and escape from her reach. She waits for the moment he calls her a monster. He was a hunter after all. When he made no other sound, she leans her forehead against his. Closing her eyes, she felt his calloused hands rest on her neck. Feeling the ghost of his lips on the corner of her own made her shiver.

She does the same to him, following a path closer to his ear. She is near his earlobe as he feels her soft breath against his ear. He shivers in return, closing his eyes and relishing the moment.

She kisses him there when she finally whispers.

“I’m the daughter of Poseidon. God of the Sea. A demigod.”

#crossover #reader insert #zoro roronoa x reader #opla fanfiction #roronoa zoro x reader

[toobusybeingdelulu]

So, we all know that Billy’s and Max’s deaths are almost identical parallels of each other.

The color blue, Lucas and Max’s reactions (her calling Billy’s name while he is being killed by the mind Flayer while Lucas is calling hers when seeing her limbs break)

This is obviously a nod to Max’s favorite song, running up that hill, specifically the line “if I only could, I would make a deal with god and I’d get him to swap our places.”, but I think these similarities could have an even greater significance plot-wise. Especially if we think about Max’s arc in season 5.

But how?

First of all, we know that before dying Billy manages to break free from the mindFlayer (and Vecna’s) control thanks to El, coming back to himself for the short amount of time that is used by him to make the decision to sacrifice himself and say “I’m sorry” to max as his last words. Many thought that him coming back to his senses in his last moments would mean that he was no longer connected to Vecna or The MindFlayer (therefore his mind dying alongside his body) but how could that be, when the same thing happened to Max?

In the first scene, before being saved by El (once again, another parallel between Max and Billy), Vecna is sucking her consciousness inside his mind, so that she becomes a part of him.

But then he is interrupted. By El. Who manages to interfere with his plans by driving him away from max. Sounds familiar?

She does the same thing with Billy, snatching him from vecna by reminding him of his mom.

Now, let’s come back to Max for a minute.

“Lucas I can’t feel or see anything… I’m scared… I’m so scared… I don’t wanna die, I’m not ready. I don’t wanna go please I don’t wanna go.”

Max is saying all of this AFTER Vecna managed to take her soul/consciousness. She is dying, just like Billy. And yet she is still aware of who Lucas is, just as Billy was aware of who Max was (once again, “I’m sorry”) right before exhaling his last breath.

Then, after this brief amount of time, Max dies. Then she is resurrected by El, but her mind is gone, as we saw. She is nowhere to be found.

And I think the same happened to Billy’s mind when he died. Vecna managed to take them both, and yet… there is a great difference between The Cali siblings and all his other victims. Which is this:

No other vecna victim was conscious right before dying. Patrick, Chrissy, Fred and Heather had never an Eleven who could help them break free from Vecna’s control.

That makes Billy and Max unfinished jobs. And that means that inside Vecna’s mind they will also have the most power, because they will not be totally controlled.

I could go on and on about how already Billy in season 4 proved this theory right, but I will limit myself to the tear and the fact that Max was not supposed to enter vecna’s sanctuary right after the Billy monologue.

“What are you doing here, Maxine?” This is what he says to her, like he is surprised to see her there.

Where am I going with all of this? Well, I just think that all these clues line up to the cali siblings beating Vecna’s ass from the inside. The only heartbreaking difference netween their fates at the end would be that Max will manage to return to her body. Billy would not, because he hasn’t gotten one. But a proper goodbye, after them teaming up against vecna, would give them both the closure they deserve.

Maybe, if all of this is true, they will get to try again.

For the last time.

In conclusion, thanks for taking the time to read this long crazy ass post, let me know if you want other theories in the future <3 I have so much fun making them, regardless of them being true in the end

#honestly I think it would be the only way to give both max and Billy peace #billy hargrove #stranger things #dacre montgomery #steve harrington #max and billy #Billy and max #max mayfield #stranger things 5 #Sadie sink

[lemoncrushh]

Wild Horses - One

Summary: Amber Crosby didn’t end up with the life she’d expected, but that didn’t keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn’t until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.

A/N: Please note all portions in italics are meant to be flashbacks :).

STORY PAGE

Chapter One Word Count: 4.3k+

“Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired…” - Daughtry; Witness

“Are you sure this is what you wanna do?” Pauline asked, lifting her coffee mug to her lips.

Amber let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom, it is.”

Pauline swallowed as she looked out the window to the backyard. The swing set was old and rusted, the sandbox her children had once played in now overgrown with weeds. Her daughter was nearing twenty. It was time to let her go and earn her wings.

“Then I think you should go for it,” she said with a sweet smile.

Relief spread over Amber as she rose from her chair to give her mother a hug.

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll make you proud, I promise.”

“You already do, sweetheart,” whispered Pauline as she patted Amber’s hand, a tear trickling out of the corner of her eye. “Now you go follow your dream. Laci and I will be just fine.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. She’s a wild one, keeps me on my toes. Just like you.”

Amber caught the loving admiration underneath Pauline’s joking tone.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too. Now stop making me teary-eyed and go pack.”

Amber grinned as she bound for her bedroom. She was gonna be okay. She could feel it.

The restaurant was freezing. Actually, to say it was a restaurant was like calling that motel they’d stayed in the night before the Ritz. It was a dang Waffle House, but at least it was cheap. Amber had managed to save up some money on this short road tour, but she wasn’t about to splurge on a real restaurant, even if that sign she’d seen for that Mexican place had looked appealing. Still, it was so freaking cold in this joint, her nipples could’ve broken glass.

“And what can I get you, hon?” asked the blond middle-aged waitress.

Amber faked a smile as she rubbed her arms. “Eggs over easy with grits and bacon please.”

The waitress nodded and penciled in her order before addressing Carter who sat beside her. He ordered his usual - three waffles. Nothing else. Of course he would smother them later with butter and maple syrup. Amber watched him sip on his Coke when the waitress walked away and wondered how on earth he was able to carry all the band equipment day after day when he was loaded up on so much sugar. She never once saw him come down from his high and fall flat on his ass, but she waited for the day she would.

“How many more miles til Nashville?” groaned Brendan, running his palm down his face, his eyes weary.

“About eighty or so,” replied Johnny, smoothing out the road map in front of him. “Not much longer.”

“Good, cause I need a real bed. Alone.”

Amber smiled meekly at her bass player. Brendan had taken the wheel early that morning after they’d left Charlotte. The boys were getting a bit restless and annoyed with having to share a motel room, one of them usually opting for the floor or the van so they wouldn’t have to share a bed. Occasionally if Amber got a double room, Carter would convince her to let him take the other bed. Sometimes in the beginning he’d even slip himself into her single bed, and she wouldn’t kick him out if she was drunk enough. But those days were over, she’d told him.

Nashville would be a different situation. The band was scheduled to play a festival, billed as one of the opening acts. It would be excellent exposure for them, and in return they got free accomodations at the Hilton. It was a sacrifice Amber was willing to make to get the recognition. She’d just decided not to tell the boys until after the show that they weren’t getting paid.

The waitress brought their food and other than the sounds of chewing and swallowing, the occasional burp, the four sat in silence. Amber continued to rub her arms when she could, the coffee doing little to warm her up. She’d wished she’d brought her hoodie, but since it was damn near a hundred degrees outside, she hadn’t even bothered to pull it out of her duffle bag. Suddenly, she felt another set of hands on her skin, and she looked up to see Carter, a small grin on his face as he rubbed her naked arms.

“Cold?” he raised a brow.

“Yeah,” she sighed, allowing his long arms to envelop her as she scooted closer to him.

Her stomach did one of those flip-floppy things that she didn’t like. Okay, maybe she liked it, but she didn’t want to. She’d been firm with Carter that they were not a couple, and he wasn’t supposed to act like they were. He’d reluctantly agreed, what with being in a band together and all. But sometimes he could be really sweet. Sometimes he…

“Can I get you anything else, hon?” the waitress asked.

“I don’t think so,” replied Carter, giving her his best smile as he squeezed Amber tighter with one hand and patted his stomach with the other. “That was great.”

The blond winked at him and set the check beside him before twisting her hips and strutting to the next table. Johnny and Brendan began to pull out their wallets until Amber stopped them.

“I got this one, guys,” she explained, giving Carter a nudge so he’d slide out of the booth.

Brendan shrugged, returning his wallet to his back pocket. Johnny dropped a few ones on the table and folded up the road map. As Amber paid the bill at the counter, Carter slid a hand across her butt and whispered in her ear.

“Meet you in the van.”

Amber nodded. “Be there in a minute. I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Ooh, honey, he’s a cutie,” Amber heard the waitress say when the boys were out of ear-shot. She scoffed.

“He your boyfriend?” the blond continued.

“No,” Amber shook her head as she took her change. “Just my drummer.”

“Yes!” exclaimed Brendan when he opened his hotel room door. “At last! My own room!”

Amber chuckled in the hallway, her duffle bag over her shoulder as she made her way to her room. The door clicked shut behind Brendan, but she could still hear him shouting something about ‘getting used to this’. Johnny’s room was across from Brendan’s, Amber’s next to it.

“I’m so ready for a nap,” she remarked, her card key in the door.

“Now? I thought...maybe we could hang out for a while. In mine.” Carter pointed across the hall.

“I’m exhausted, Carter.”

“I know, but…” he paused, his lips quivering into a suggestive grin, “can’t you be exhausted in here? With me?”

“Ugh...Carter…” Amber groaned. Here we go again, she thought.

“I give great back rubs.”

“I know you do,” she nodded with disinterest. “But I’m not feeling that great. I don’t think that Waffle House agreed with me.”

Amber heard the click of the lock and pushed her door open.

“Amber…”

“Carter,” she rolled her eyes, dropping her bag on the floor next to the bathroom. “I’m going to sleep. See you at dinner.”

Pauline held up the phone so Amber could see Laci dance around the living room in her tutu. Amber beamed and giggled as Laci did the same, twirling like a ballerina.

“Yay!” Amber clapped when Laci was finished. “Good job!”

Laci continued to giggle, her brown curls bouncing as she fell over on the couch, her head in Pauline’s lap.

“She’s been practicing,” Amber’s mom announced.

“I can tell! How’s school?”

“It’s going great. Her teacher says she’s always excited to come and never wants to leave.”

“Aw, I’m glad,” said Amber.

A knock sounded on her door so she rose from the bed to answer it. Carter stood on the other side, his hands in his pockets. Amber lifted a finger and pointed to her cell phone to indicate she was talking on it. Carter nodded and followed her into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, Mom, I gotta go. We’re about to go to dinner.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” Pauline nodded. “Have fun in Nashville!”

“I will. Bye Laci!” she waved into the phone. The little girl’s head popped into the screen she blew kisses.

“Love youuuuu!”

“I love you too, baby girl.”

Hanging up the call, Amber shoved her phone into her back pocket and looked up at Carter. He’d apparently had a shower, his caramel hair combed back, his clean t-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders.

“Ready?” she breathed, hoping he hadn’t noticed how it caught in her throat.

“Yeah, Johnny and Brendan are downstairs.”

“Okay.” Amber stepped into her sandals and walked around him to the door.

“Um...Amber?”

“Yeah?” she stopped.

Carter scratched his stubbled chin before shoving his hand back in his pocket.

“Sorry about...before,” he offered.

Amber chewed her cheek and shrugged. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I know but…” he hesitated, then looked down at his feet. “Hey, I know how you feel about us-”

Amber held up a hand. “There is no us, Carter. We’re friends. Bandmates. That’s all.”

His jaw set so hard he could cut through steel, Carter nodded. “Got it.”

Amber sighed. “Carter…”

Stepping closer to her, he put his hands on her waist.

“We got something, Amber. You might not see it yet, but I do. All those times you cried on my shoulder til four in the morning. Those nights in your bed-”

“It’s over, Carter,” she pushed his hands away.

“But I don’t want it to be.”

Amber swallowed hard as she looked down. “It needs to be,” she whispered.

“But why?”

“Because...that was the old me.”

Amber felt Carter sigh more than heard it. She watched his feet as he stepped around her to open the door.

“You’ll want me again, Amber. Maybe not tonight. But one day you will.”

Amber glared at him as he held the door. Maybe he was right.

Harry didn’t usually stay with his band. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, and it wasn’t an ego thing. It was more of a safety thing. If fans got wind of where Mitch, Sarah, Adam or Clare were, nine times out of ten they figured Harry was somewhere near. They would bombard the hotel just to get a glimpse of him, and sometimes things could get out of hand. And Harry didn’t want his band to feel like they couldn’t get out and see the city if they wanted to. So early on Jeffrey Azoff, his friend and manager, had talked him into staying at a different hotel from theirs. And so far it had worked.

Today, however, Harry decided to join his band in the hotel restaurant - the Hilton where the rest of the band members were staying. He reckoned no one would suspect he would be there, so he could slip in and take a seat with the gang and enjoy a private meal. But he’d thought wrong.

He wasn’t sure if it was the girl who nearly fainted in the lobby, or if there had been paps or someone else outside who’d recognized him, but by the time he made it around the corner near the elevators, just outside the restaurant, he was surrounded. Cursing under his breath, he put on a brave face and greeted the mob of fans.

Fans. That was actually too kind of a word. He knew who his true fans were. They were the ones who bought his album and tickets to his shows. They were outside waiting in a queue for hours so they’d get a good spot in the general admission section. They had websites and blogs and wrote fanfiction and made their own merch. They weren’t waiting outside of hotel restaurants hoping to get a selfie with someone they may or may not actually had heard of, let alone sang along to in the car. But being the Harry Styles that he was, he knew it wasn’t fair to pick and choose. Treat people with kindness, that was his motto. He lived by the golden rule, even when all he wanted to do was get a bloody meal with his friends.

When the last girl had left, a squeak in her voice as she snapped one last photo, Harry strolled into the restaurant, waving at his bandmates who sat in the corner of the nearly empty room. Immediately a waiter came by, setting a glass of water in front of him.

“Evening,” nodded the waiter in a monotone.

“We already ordered for you,” said Clare.

“Oh. Thanks,” Harry grinned, setting his napkin in his lap.

“Guess, this isn’t happening again,” remarked Mitch.

“What isn’t?”

“This,” Mitch gestured. “Dinner at our hotel. You were mobbed.”

Harry shrugged with a sigh. “Yeah. It wasn’t too bad. Coulda been worse.”

Sarah and Mitch glared at him before lifting their glasses simultaneously. The waiter came with their food then, and the mood was lightened with idle chatter. Halfway through his salad, however, Harry could feel eyes upon him. He had a gift, he did. He could always tell when he was being watched. Usually it involved a camera, but when he lifted his gaze to browse the room, he only found a pair of pretty blue eyes. They belonged to a young woman sat at the table across the room, one of only two others occupied in the restaurant presently. She was joined by three other lads, who all seemed to be doing their best to pay attention to themselves and each other, and certainly not to her.

He had no idea how or why. She was cute. She had pouty red lips and a heart-shaped face. And there was no way he could ignore the way she tried to look away when he caught her looking at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Yeah, he would definitely be paying attention to her.

Actually, come to think of it, she looked right familiar to him. Biting his lip, he tried to place her.

A burst of laughter broke his thoughts and he turned his head to see Adam showing the other three a video of his kid on his phone.

“How adorable!” exclaimed Clare.

As Adam scrolled to find another funny video, Harry leaned toward Mitch.

“Hey mate, who’s that?” he pointed to the girl across the room. “Do you know her?”

Mitch shrugged just as Sarah said, “That’s Amber Crosby.”

“Who?” Mitch and Harry asked in unison.

“Amber Crosby? She’s part of the festival tomorrow?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “That’s her and her band.”

“Ohh,” sounded Harry. Amber Crosby, that’s right. He’d heard her single a few times. She was good.

“How do you know this?” inquired Mitch.

“Because I make it a point to keep up with what’s going on,” remarked Sarah, pursing her lips. Mitch mocked her with a face which earned him a pinch.

Harry watched Amber sit with her band, though she might as well had been sat there alone. She reached for her glass of water, taking a sip through a straw before her eyes wandered up and locked with Harry’s again. He caught the slight blush in her cheeks as she quickly averted her gaze and set her glass back down.

“Hey, Harry, are y-” he heard Mitch begin, but he didn’t stay to listen to the rest of the sentence. Instead, he rose from his chair and crossed the room to where Amber sat.

“Hello,” he greeted when he reached her table. “Amber Crosby, right?”

Once again, he didn’t miss the rosiness of her cheeks as she lifted her head.

“Yes,” she smiled up at him.

“I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Harry Styles.”

Amber beamed wider, taking Harry’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“I saw that you’re playing tomorrow,” he half lied.

“Yeah,” Amber made a face. Harry wasn’t sure if it was one of embarrassment or annoyance. But either way, he liked how her nose crinkled when she did it. “I think we’re like second or third. So we’ll be out of here by sundown.”

Harry feigned shock, placing his hand on his chest. “And miss my set?”

Amber giggled. “Well, I don’t want to, but you know…”

“Hey, man,” uttered the straight-nosed guy sat next to Amber. If he hadn’t extended his hand, Harry might have thought he was about to threaten him.

“Oh, sorry!” Amber sat up, addressing the three men at the table. “Harry, this is Carter, Brendan and Johnny. My band. Guys, this is Ha-”

“Harry Styles, man, nice to meet ya!” Carter nearly slapped his hand against Harry’s, making Amber grimace. But Harry was gracious, shaking each man’s hand and making them feel important.

“I’ve heard your song,” said Harry, “it’s really good.”

It was Amber’s turn to cover her heart. “Oh, thank you.”

“Yeah, I’m anxious to hear more.”

His eyes met Amber’s then, making her smile. He didn’t miss Carter’s arm, however, that suddenly stretched across the back of her chair.

“Will you be there tomorrow?” asked Amber. “I mean, as early as we’ll be playing?”

“Yeah, I should be. I’ll be popping in off and on throughout the day.”

“What time are you on?” piped up one of the other lads. Damn, Harry had forgotten their names. Brandon? Brennan?

“We’re on at eight,” replied Harry.

“Oh. We might be gone by then,” Carter declared, his fingers playing on Amber’s shoulder. “We have another gig to get to the next day.”

“Oh, too bad,” Harry frowned, not missing the maneuver Amber pulled to get her shoulder out of Carter’s reach. “Well, just wanted to say hello, and um...best of luck tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Amber and her band sang.

Harry gave a small wave as he turned back for his table, rejoining his own band.

“What d’you think?” Sarah raised a brow.

“She seems lovely.”

Just then Amber and her band rose from their table, heading for the exit.

“I think I’ll try to introduce myself tomorrow,” said Sarah. “I definitely wanna catch their set.”

But Harry was barely listening. He watched Amber follow the men out of the restaurant, turning around once to wave at him. He smiled and waved back.

He definitely wanted to catch their set too.

Carter thought he heard something. It was a cheap motel, and the walls were very thin. But did he detect the sound of someone crying? Amber’s room was next door. Could it be…

He waited a few more minutes, just to be sure. Then swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up and walked to the door, hesitating only for a split second before stepping outside.

He knocked gently at first, then thought that was ridiculous and knocked louder. She didn’t answer right away, though that didn’t surprise him. Again, he knocked, this time calling her name.

“Amber! Amber, are you in there?” He knew his question was pointless; of course she was in there. And she was hurting.

He heard the click of the lock before the door opened, just enough to reveal half of her tear-stained face.

“Are you okay?” Another stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay.

She shook her head, her hair falling over her eyes. Carter let out a deep breath.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Amber looked down and shook her head again. “Not really.”

Carter nodded. He wasn’t going to push her.

“Can I...come in?”

Swallowing hard, Amber stepped back, her head still bowed. When Carter shut the door behind him, she finally looked up at him.

“Oh!”

It was only then that it dawned on Carter that he was shirtless. He’d been lying on his bed after returning to his room, still in his jeans, his sweaty t-shirt and shoes discarded across the room in a pile. His mind on getting to Amber, he hadn’t bothered to put on a clean shirt.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

With a sharp turn, Amber ran to the bed, planting herself on it face down.

“Hey,” Carter whispered as he sat down next to her. He watched her back tremble and shake as she cried into her pillow. “Amber…”

When she didn’t reply, he looked around the tiny room. On the nightstand sat a half-empty bottle of whisky. It wasn’t open, but he picked up the empty glass next to it and sniffed it. He made a face as he wondered if she’d already drunk that much tonight.

“Amber,” he said again.

Just as he reached for her, she sat up and wrapped her arms around him. He’d let her cry as much as she wanted; he was willing to wait all night if he needed to. Finally, she lifted her head, wiped her eyes and sniffled.

“I hate my life,” she admitted.

“What?”

“I’m so tired, Carter,” she cried. “So very tired. Of everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sick of trying so hard...when it doesn’t get me anywhere.”

Pushing a strand of her brown hair from her wet, sticky cheek, Carter assumed she meant the band, her music. But then she dropped the bomb.

“I just want someone to love me,” she whined, her big brown eyes searching his face. “Why is that so hard?”

“Amber…”

“Am I unlovable?” she asked.

“What? No!” Carter knew that wasn’t true. Okay, maybe he wasn’t in love with her. But he’d definitely had feelings since they’d met. He knew she’d had a hard life and kept her guard up, but he’d never gotten the whole story. He’d always hoped one day she’d tell him.

“Sometimes…” she hesitated, “sometimes I just wanna end it.”

“End what?” Damn, he was full of dumb questions tonight. He knew the answer. He just hoped he was wrong.

“My life.”

He took her face in his hands then. He wanted to yell at her, shake her into reality. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Amber,” he said firmly.

“Don’t I?” she rolled her eyes. “No one gives a shit about me.”

“I do. I care.”

“You do?” Though her eyelids were heavy, she fluttered her lashes.

Carter could smell the liquor on her breath before he kissed her. He didn’t care. He wanted her to know she was wanted.

She hadn’t asked him to stay that night, but he had anyway. He wanted to make sure she was okay. And when she’d gotten up to puke, he’d held back her hair.

Carter sort of made a habit of staying in Amber’s room after that. About a month or so later, after they shared an entire bottle of whisky, she told him her story.

“Ten minutes,” the stage assistant announced, sending nervous tingles down Amber’s spine.

“Okay, okay,” she breathed, shaking her limbs and fingers. “Let’s do this.”

Just then she heard a voice behind her, one that she recognized from the night before. She turned to see Harry Styles chatting with Brendan along with his bandmates Sarah and Mitch whom she’d met an hour ago. When their eyes met, he smiled widely and stepped toward her.

“Hi, Amber,” he greeted. “Promised I’d make it to see you, and here I am.”

Amber returned his smile, her insides giggling with glee. He hadn’t actually promised that, not in so many words, but she thought it was a nice gesture.

“Good to see you, Harry,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t crack before she even made it to the stage.

“You’ve met Sarah and Mitch,” he confirmed in part question.

“Yes, I did. They’re so nice.”

“I have a great band,” Harry nodded.

“You definitely do. They all seem very fond of you. As they should.”

“Five minutes!”

“I’m on next,” Amber voiced with wide eyes.

“Best of luck to you,” Harry grinned. “You’ll be great.”

“Hope so,” she breathed. She looked around to see her band members coming toward her. For some reason she got more nervous when she made eye contact with Carter.

“Hey, man,” he said as he approached Harry, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, good luck, mate,” Harry reached out his hand to tap Carter’s arm.

“Places people!” the stage hand called.

Amber shrieked, trying to let her body release the last of its nerves. She caught the tiny giggle coming from Harry and gave him a shrug.

“Always nervous,” she muttered.

She hadn’t expected Harry to take her hand then. And she hadn’t expected to feel the electricity that charged through her skin from his touch. And she hadn’t expected the look in his eyes to take all her nerves away and make her feel calm.

“Let’s go!” Carter shouted, his hand on her back as he pushed her onto the stage.

Harry watched Amber Crosby’s short set from backstage. She was good. Better than good, she was fantastic. He loved the tone of her voice, both warm and clear. She had a youthful quality about her while also being very sensual, like some of the classic country females whom he enjoyed. Though he was familiar with the radio hit, he liked her other songs just as much, if not more. He wondered if she wrote them all, and he made it a point to ask her when he got the chance. If he got the chance. He was disappointed that she and her band would be leaving after their set. There was something about her… he didn’t know what exactly, but he wanted to find out.

The crowd cheered after their last song, making Harry smile. He hardly knew this girl, but he was already feeling a sense of pride for her. His own hands clapping eagerly, he watched as the band took a bow together and turned to exit the stage. He felt the presence of two bodies stepping to either side of him, joining him in his applause.

“So what do you think?” asked Sarah.

“I think I just found my new opening act,” Harry replied.

As always feedback is appreciated (even if it is an old fic lol).

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles series #harry styles x oc #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry fanfiction #harry fan fiction #harry fic #harry fanfic #harry fan fic #harry series #harry x oc #harry angst #harry smut #harry fluff #real harry fic

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.204 thoughts

[Lord Forgive Me But It's Time to Go Back to The Old Me]

(Contents: Parallels - Nico/Feng/Ichico, Character development - Feng, Power system development/speculation - Souls, Character speculation - Sun/Luna)

Well! I guess we didn't need to worry about Nico staying a non-Negator after all, now did we? So much for keeping Nico "Unforgettable-free" eh, Ichico? Still, I feel better knowing that my prediction that they'd trigger it on purpose was correct, even if the exact method was a bit off

As usual, Tozuka continues to impress me with his ability to compose iconic panels. Nico's face when he absorbed all of the memories from Acopalypse is simply Unforgettable, particularly since it so immediately reverted him to his classic L100 appearance. What's really fun about that is that it's probably not that his body just suddenly remembered all of the stress and sleepless nights of Unforgettable, but rather it's the logical extreme of Artifact-based memory influx. We've seen characters develop headaches and nosebleeds from it before, most notably from Fuuko digging through an huge box full of Artifacts, so for Nico to absorb presumably ALL of Apocalypse's stored memories (stated to be the most of any Artifact), it makes sense that even the capillaries under his eyes would all burst at once from the pressure

The question now is whether or not this is a permanent change. I imagine not, since his previously haggard appearance was indicative of his suffering, the haunting knowledge that his most sacred memories would soon fade and be permanently replaced with the most wretched. L100 Nico had the opportunity to create new pleasant memories but actively rejected the possibility out of fear of losing the old, while in this world Nico is going to be able to embrace the support of others as he won't have lost Ichico this time. Honestly, no wonder Tozuka waited to introduce Mico to this world; he wanted to make sure Nico would be able to make room for her in his heart rather than keeping her at a distance

I wonder if that's another reason Tozuka chose Feng for this fight; not only is Feng's current focus on making himself unforgettable to future generations, but he's also a good parallel to Nico's role as a father. Both L100 Nico and Feng prevented themselves from properly forming attachments with their children, and L101 has given both of them the chance to make right on that. Shen explicitly acknowledges that he loves Feng as his father, and Feng even calls Shen his son, so while Feng may not be the best or even a good role model for fatherhood, he does make a compelling argument for parental redemption. If Nico really does have complete knowledge of the previous Loops now, the significance of this change won't be lost on him, and he'll be certain to make sure Mico can grow up happy and loved

Speaking of, Ichico's final speech in this chapter remind me a lot of Nico's in L100. She tells Nico that she knows he can save her because he's the first person she's ever loved, while as Nico was dying in L100, Ichico asked if he thought Mico could handle saving Fuuko's life and he replied "she's our daughter. She doesn't make mistakes." Both of them have absolute faith in their loved ones to pull through when the chips are down, and both of them hold each other in extremely high regard. These two really have such strong chemistry, I'm excited to see the sorts of interactions they have now that the cat's out of the bag

Now that I think of it, Nico's refusal to let Mico into his heart was pretty ironic since Ichico explicitly wanted to make sure that Nico wouldn't ever feel alone. Just like Leila asked Rip and Latla to find love in each other, Ichico wanted Nico to fill the void she left with Mico, and just like them, he couldn't let go of the past and move on. Leila and Ichico were also both in poor health and believed that since their lives were short they held less value, and instead sought to leave as much of an impact as possible in the time that they had, even if it was just to make the people closest to them happy

Looking at Ichico in that light, we can see another fun parallel to Feng! Feng's Unfade made him believe that he had all the time in the world and that he didn't need to leave anything behind because he'd always be there, while Ichico's Unsleep made her believe she had no time and had to leave as much behind as she could. Both of them, however, had adverse effects on their families, as Feng believed his children to exist for him to become stronger and Ichico believed her child to be an adequate replacement for herself, when in reality Feng should have focused on raising someone to surpass him and Ichico should have focused on preserving her life to be present for her family. Heck, Unforgettable manifested in Nico both times specifically because he saw Ichico's last moments and thought something to the effect of "I don't want her to die, I want to remember her." Doomed by the narrative, indeed!

Man, I'm so glad Tozuka used Feng here, I had no idea there was so much connective tissue between all these folks! I bet we still would have gotten something cool if it were Tella, but damn this is such juicy stuff!! I hope Tozuka keeps throwing all of his toys together in fun combos that get me to think this deeply in the other Master Rule fights too

Feng's inclusion here also continues to demonstrate how far he's developed, forcing him to put his money where his mouth is and sacrifice himself for someone else for a change. He was a bit incredulous at first that Ichico was suggesting he should die, which is pretty hypocritical coming from the guy who just last chapter said "you should sacrifice your wife to get stronger, it'll be cool." Once he realized that dying would help him understand souls better and that Nico could save him AND bring him back to life, Feng was all for it, and may well come to understand that being with people provides more opportunities for growth than treating them as expendable ever could

I am very interested in seeing how his death will improve his understanding of souls, though. The damage he took from Luna's soul blast as well as the damage he dealt to Sun (who Language stated has a physical body) with his knock-off Kamehameha both prove that souls can directly interact with the physical plane, something that Ghost previously stated couldn't be done. This may be a matter of interpretation, though, as Ghost also stated that Andy only couldn't move his limbs after having those parts of his soul cut off because he believed he could move his body using his soul. Ghost's interpretation was that souls couldn't touch physical matter and vice versa, so only a physical attack coated in soul could harm him by ensuring it didn't matter which form he was in

Luna's attack seems to be pure soul, so by that logic, she shouldn't have been able to deal damage to Feng's body, and yet she did. Is Luna's interpretation that a soul attack damages the soul and reflects its state on the body? Probably not, then one wouldn't be able to detach their soul for attacks in the first place, as that would cause the body to change shape (see Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in JJK). Does Luna interpret souls as having different properties at different concentrations? Is she coating her soul around the air to create physical pressure when launching her attack? Or is it something entirely different? Whatever it turns out to be, I think it will have pretty drastic implications for how battles are fought going forward

Finally, I want to touch on an interesting line from Language. She referred to Luna and Sun as "the Pinnacle of the Spiritual and the Pinnacle the Physical" respectively, and given Luna's hazy silver appearance, it does track that she is literally made of soul, but then does that mean Luna doesn't have a physical body at all? And in fact, if Luna is only a soul, then how did she exist prior to UMA Soul's creation? Is Soul really the Rule that allows souls to exist, or the Rule that allows other souls, existences like Luna, to be?

And if Luna is a soul without a body, then...is Sun a body without a soul? Can soul-based attacks work on Sun, or does the Union need to focus solely on physical attacks? Or, does defeating Sun require that Luna be defeated simultaneously, just like Ghost, because Luna is Sun's soul?

I know I say it all the time, but Tozuka really is following Oda's footsteps incredibly well. They're both so good at sprinkling in hints that make me ask questions rather than just spoonfeeding me answers, so while I desperately want the answers, the time I get to spend chewing them over and looking for them myself makes the questions stick with me and leave that much more of an impact. I sincerely hope that other mangaka are taking notes, cus I want to see so much more of this in Jump's future!

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

[lavandula-ipsum]

Those Wistful Asphodels

Asphodels ch. 1/2

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

Wordcount: 7.4k

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

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

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

Enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least I get to die a rebel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m alone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

“Less than before.”

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

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

“I thank you for your help, sir.”

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

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

“So finally someone came looking for it.”

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

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

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

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

“And they didn’t run themselves?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then she wakes up in an unfamiliar place. Stars flicker above her head, and the cold air hits her face. She’s outside. The instinct to flee back to safety kicks in, but she can’t help notice the concentric circles carved on the floor, lighting up with a bluish glow that turns brighter with the vibrations in her aura getting stronger. As she tries to put a finger on where she has seen the carved patterns before, the lights continue to vibrate in tune with her own signature. She’s no doubt standing in a sanctuary.The symbols climb up to some sort of table, perhaps even an altar, made out of the same rock. She is known by this place, though she doesn’t remember ever being to somewhere so strong in the Force. It feels like she could reach with her hand and touch it.  The swaying of its currents invites her to stay, promising healing and peace. Oh, how dearly she has missed the light, unambiguous and true. She lets the nostalgia wash over her, one that doesn’t belong to her, a gaze turned to years past before this place was abandoned and forgotten. 

However, she isn’t a stranger to those feelings of loss that fill the carved terrace. Where she once held hope, now she grieves for the loss of her comrades and the future that should have been, one where Jedi would rediscover this place. Now that will never happen, and she can’t help the feeling that she has a hand in the erasure of their kind. Not long ago, she still dreamt of being knighted someday, but that path has disappeared forever. The Jedi are dead.

A dreadful realization creeps over her. She hasn’t just led the enemy into a rebel base, but also into a Jedi sanctuary. It seems to have been built on top of the rocky formation under which the tunnels hide, on a high spot unreachable from the outside. It has probably been thanks to its benevolent influence that the refugees have managed to remain hidden but now, because of her, this sacred place won’t be able to protect them anymore.

She runs down the stairs, back to the darkness, flooded by the guilty need to do something.

***

The guard she finds watching over the heavy door of the cell, a teenager holding a blaster awkwardly, insists that she should go back to rest, but she ignores the warning. She needs to talk to the prisoner, for unselfish reasons this time. 

“Go take a walk, will you?” she tells him.

On the way here she’s been forming the idea that maybe she’ll be able to exchange her precious hostage for safe passage out of the planet, at least for those hiding in the tunnels. Suddenly, these children might stand a chance. And maybe she won’t be responsible for their capture.

However, as soon as she steps into the dungeon she’s shaken by her own body’s betrayal, choosing now of all times to remind her of that embrace from earlier that afternoon. Luke’s warmth hasn’t left her yet, nor the memory of his cloak shielding her from the rain with the promise of more to be found under those layers of black robes. It brings a displeased sigh to her lips.

As the heavy door closes behind her, the rebel finds her prisoner standing next to the tiny opening in the wall that serves as a window, his expectant expression immediately turned to her. Those stubborn wildflowers have made their way down there, their pure white heads shyly poking through the opening in the rock. Instinctively, Luke steps towards her, but quickly reminds himself to stop in his tracks. Good. She finds a twisted pleasure in making him wait and wonder, reveling in the agitation of his contradicting thoughts. It makes her feel a little less alone in her uncertainty. After they’re finally alone behind a locked gate she takes her time to sit on a stool, to try and get comfortable in spite of her injured leg, all while avoiding his gaze. She doesn’t know where to start. 

“What are you trying?” At her question, Luke opens his mouth to talk, but interrupts himself. (Y/N) groans. “We both know it’s not a great military strategy to go after an enemy on your own and let yourself be captured by a bunch of children.”

“I had to see you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Again, doubt. She waves away the whispers of the Force, too angry to listen to his emotions reaching her.

“Actually, no, I don’t. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been a little busy trying not to get killed by your people. Forgive me if I haven’t been considering your feelings while I saw my friends die and starve in the mud. Tell me, how long before your hounds come for these children? Are you gonna kill them? Or do you prefer washing their brains to turn them into soldiers that would go murder their own parents and everything they fight for? The ones you haven't orphaned already, that is.”

In the middle of those accusations, he flinches. One of them makes him angry, then that initial jab turns to a deeper pain. She doesn’t even care which one did it.

“I came here on my own, I swear. No one else knows.”

“Save your promises. I’ve seen how you keep them.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” he insists, his exasperation growing.

“Oh, no, of course not. You’re a saint. I remember you said that, next time we crossed paths, I’d get the rebel treatment.”

Luke raises his bound wrists, like that’s enough of an answer. “Isn’t that what you’re doing? Playing the rebel part?” She scoffs, but he’s not done. “Listen, I understand why you’re doing this. But I hoped you’d realize-” he interrupts himself again.

“What?”

Luke swallows thickly, fearing the storm he’s about to summon. “That this isn’t helping anyone. If you just took the help that’s being offered to you…”

“I can manage perfectly on my own, thank you,“ she spits.

“I see how well that’s working out for you.”

His petulant tone makes (Y/N) stand up from her seat with just the strength of her rage, ignoring the painful flare that runs down her leg. “Listen carefully. You’re free to come fight me, imprison me, even try to kill me and it would all be fair. That's what I get for getting into a war. But I won’t hear this talk about how much I need your protection or pity. You don’t get to disrespect me like that.”

Luke clenches his jaw and just stares at her, visibly holding his tongue. There it is again, the darkness congregating in his hands, making his blood pump with wrath. How far does she have to push before he gives in to it?

“And it tears me apart that you'd treat me as your pet,” she spits, more sincere than she’d like.

Because she would crumble down if she looked away, she bravely maintains contact with his unbearable gaze, seeing in it how he considers making her do what he wants. A rotten part of her wishes to see him try, shattering  in the process all remains of tenderness they might still harbor for each other. And even though it inspires genuine horror in her, her anger makes her swallow it up whole. It’s all because of this dark thread buried deep in her chest, pulling out towards him. Until now, she’s been able to drown that pull as background noise as she carried out her duties, but now that Luke is this close it’s brutal. Like a black hole, deep inside she wants to give into the attraction and disappear in his shadow.

And then she realizes she has stood up. She feels like a fool, standing confused and defensive in the middle of the room, her chest pounding furious as if she just climbed up a mountain. The rebel stares at him up and down as she sits again, breathless. 

“Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything. It’s all you.”

She stares at the floor, shaken by shame. After all the work of hardening her heart, of convincing herself that she hated him, she feels herself slip down again. Luke's voice is but a mere whisper, like he's talking to himself. 

“You can’t lie to me either, can you?”

“It’s just…” As her mental shields come down she can’t help feeling like a lost child. “I didn’t expect this to be so cold.” 

Instantly, Luke has come to kneel before her, eyes raised up to her with a question. It makes it so easy for her to reach for his left hand to softly rest the back against her cheek. Gently melting into each other’s space, she curses herself for letting him in her mind, for having let things go so far in the first place. 

“I bet you regret not killing me when you had the chance,” she says, unsure of why she expects him to laugh. Maybe because it would be easier to stomach than seeing him tilt his head, between horrified and exhausted, and answer earnestly.

“I’m not giving you up. I tried to deny it too at first, before I knew that you felt the same way.”

Luke’s signature wraps around her like a lover’s caress, welding itself with hers perfectly as he delves deeper into her open defenses. It is the warmth, the sweet warmth she has missed, that eases the many loads she’s been carrying on her own. The rebel presses a kiss on his knuckles.

“I hate you.”

Luke offers a soft grin in response, knowing she can pile that on top of all of the other messed up feelings she holds for him. He’s so willing to take them all. “I probably deserve it.”

The one that weighs more now, though, is the void of his absence finally filled again. Her tears for it dried so much suffering ago. His bound hands trace up the shapes of her neck, a reminder that this weakness is shared. She tastes this irresponsible consolation for her sins as her fingers delve into his hair. One defeat after another, loss after loss, (Y/N) has grown small and spent, too tainted with hatred to try and bring him back. She has filled all the time away from him with a half hearted search for hope, and she hasn’t found it.

His breath on her throat relieves her cold skin.

“What are we going to do?” 

“You talk as if there was an option we weren’t to regret.”

“Is that what you want? Something regrettable?” Luke offers, his closeness alluring as she grabs the collar of his tabard and brings him closer. However, they only dare allow their lips to brush lightly in passing. “We could escape from everything. Disappear to some remote place where no one knows who we are.”

“We both know we won’t do that,” she chuckles. A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Seeing you consider it for a second was nice, though.”

What’s out there still finds the way to invade their intimacy, much to (Y/N)’s growing feelings of dread. “I can either be a good rebel and take you prisoner or fuck you and go on pretending nothing happened afterwards. Not both. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m in a bit of a predicament at the moment.”

Even now, she finds herself playing the twisted game of seeing how far she can take him, maybe in the hopes of finding something ugly to punish herself with. Instead, Luke opens up to her. 

"Alright. Use me then.” Luke lets out a brief laugh, though a certain bitterness can be felt through it, as if even he resents his own impulsive streak. “Ask for any ransom you want and you will have it."

"Like I'd trust the Empire."

"You wouldn't have to. You'll use my personal code to talk directly to the person you need.”

(Y/N) stands up from her seat, too exhausted to feign dismay, and takes clunky steps around the room. She really hadn’t woken up contemplating that she’d be ending her day with a chat with Vader. Luke stays down, next to the stool, as if he didn’t have the upper hand in this in spite of being captive.

“Same issue.”

“Whatever I promise to you, he will honor it. I swear.” Heavens, he’s a brat. “I get it, you loathe the idea. But I also might be getting a feeling that you have some urgent demands.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

“The Jedi sanctuary.”

Her jaw tightens. “Not really mine to give away, is it?”

“Then it won’t hurt, will it?” Her nostrils flare at the comment, but she keeps silent. Even if she doesn’t fully comprehend its importance, she’s not keen on the idea of letting this sacred place be potentially defiled. However, it’s true that she really doesn’t have much of a choice. 

“There’s something else I want,” he continues.

“Spit it out.”

“I just want you to answer some questions.” Her eyes narrow. That is too vague and she has too many secrets she’s not willing to give away. “Don’t worry, they won’t endanger anyone’s life.”

The rebel snaps her tongue and shifts in her seat. But nods. “Alright. You’ll have them answered.”

Well, as much as she hates the situation, maybe she has the chance to take this to good port. Do something good. Hell, she can’t remember the last time she thought of herself as a good person, back when she was so eager to struggle for reasons she can’t even remember anymore. Acting in hopes of making her dead master proud, like he could see her, feel foolish now. However, there’s one thing she misses from her past righteous little self, and that’s knowing how to fight. Yeah, perhaps she was too hard on herself back then. Maybe she was good. However, that illusion fades as she voices this one command.

"Put your hands against the wall.” This is far from wise and she hates herself for it. However, her common sense has been taken captive by the lovely confusion blooming on Luke’s face. “You can either do it or wait for me to change my mind."

That candid expression she’d missed so much in him dissolves into a bratty smirk. "Yes, ma'am."

She doesn’t appreciate the attitude, not when she’s this angry. There’s a second when he’s with his back turned to her, handcuffed wrists against the wall of the cell, that she considers listening to reason and leaving. Instead, the challenge becomes appetizing. Afraid to let her doubt be read, she steps closer. Luke inhales sharply as she reaches around and, carefully at first, palms over his trousers. She quickly finds what she’s come looking for. 

“Is this your usual reaction whenever you come chasing after me? No wonder you put so much effort in hunting me down.” 

Luke shudders when she presses on his erection more boldly this time, revealing the prolonged aching he’s been hiding. Exactly what she needs to hastily undo the fastenings, eager to make most of the little time they might have for this. The rebel lightly rakes down the soft, light brunette hairs of his happy trail, making him sigh. Satisfied with her first little incursion and desirous for another one, she gives a generous lick to her palm before sliding it into his pants, while her other hand tugs down on the waistband of his underwear before digging her fingers into his hip. She rubs wet circles around the sensitive head of his cock, already painfully swollen and pink, and takes delight in the soft whimper she gets in response to her slightly aggressive and sudden attentions. But she decides to be merciful and softens the touch with the first stroke down the full length. She intends for this to be quick but she still wants to enjoy it a little.

“Here I come to talk business while your thoughts drift somewhere else entirely,” she teases. Luke hums something that’s meant to sound like an apology. It succeeds at softening her tone. “Don’t worry about it, I got you. Next time, just ask.”

While he leans against the wall, he can get a good view of everything she’s doing. It’s only fair, since she loves to watch his enthralled face progressively let go of that put together facade he exhibited at first, the red deepening across his cheeks and his eyes brimming with filthy pleas, like he doesn’t believe this is happening to him.

Suddenly, a gloved hand grabs her collar and brings her up, her back hitting the wall. Before she can protest her lips are captured in his, needy and warm and sloppy, as his palms cup her cheeks, one burning hot and the other cool leather.

“Please, love. Faster,” Luke begs through the tiny gap he allows, making the grip between her legs tighten around nothing. The mere touch of her own clothes there has her already burning for more. The rebel melts at the sight of need painted in the glossy eyes of her enemy, at being held so sweetly after so long, and realizes that she can’t get angry at him. 

“That’s it. Ask me anything,” as she happily complies, her hand dancing with soft movements of his hips, a low moan forms from the back of his throat. “I can’t get enough of your pretty face when you do.” 

Whispering more praise, she covers Luke’s throat with open kisses. Her free hand climbs up his torso, hard fingers tracing the toned shapes under the black robes. Upon reaching his chest she pinches and twists slightly, stealing a surprised whimper that tells her that she's succeeded at finding a nipple 

Suddenly, rustling on the other side of the door freezes them both in place. Her hand suddenly stops, but she keeps it tightly wrapped around him.

“(Y/N),” Imoviah calls, “are you alright in there?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” (Y/N) answers, enjoying the sudden shame spreading all over her lover’s face. “Negotiations are going well.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

Luke’s hips start rolling with short, irregular movements. He’s tried, but he can’t help himself any longer. She covers his mouth and gives his dick a light squeeze and twist that brings out a delicious, hot moan to be muffled against her palm.

“Not for now. The prisoner has proven to be quite cooperative.”

“Alright, then. Give me a holler if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Imoviah. I’ll be with you shortly” 

As the steps walk away, she slowly resumes her thrusts, slightly opening the fingers over Luke’s mouth to trace over his lips. Not before long, he’s sucking on them. 

“Suddenly worried about your reputation? That's cute.”

He just whines through her fingers, a glint of hurt pride in his teary eyes. Slowly, his hands descend from the wall to sweetly stroke down her face, down her throat. However, as soon as they reach her collar, a violent flare of fear blares inside her brain, bouncing through every corner that makes her abruptly grab his bound wrists and return them to their original position, over her head and against the wall.

Luke calls her name with visible concern, but before he can voice it she grabs the back of his hair and increases the pace until he’s out of breath and out of words. And she’s not done yet, because then she retreats her hand so she gets to watch him grow desperate, throbbing miserably, shameful pleas molten into incoherent whining.

“See? You know how to behave.” Finally, she decides it’s time to reward him with more stimulation, swirling the precum around his pink head with thorough fingers before resuming the long awaited strokes. “I’m so in love with your cock.”

The answer is little more than a sighed strain of clumsy thank yous. Pleased with how cute he’s become from just fucking her hand, she brings him closer now, and allows him to rest his head in the crook of her shoulder. No one knows, not a single soul, that the deadliest man alive becomes a squirming mess both when he’s touched and when he isn’t. Her hand answers to his desperate motions with the fast pace he’s begging for, set on bringing him over the edge this time. While words seem to be escaping Luke right now, the soft whimpers in her ear confess how close he is, how hopelessly he craves for his own undoing by her hand.

However, her attentions are suddenly interrupted by the sound of steps outside the cell again. They’re faster this time, with a sense of urgency to them.

“Miss,” the guard, again. “It’s the Imps! They’re scouting the area. They haven’t found any of the entrances yet, but there’s talk of running away.”

“No, that would be more dangerous. Round everyone inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Luke drowns a frustrated whine in her shoulder. The rebel turns her head back to the man panting against her neck, and gently runs a hand through his hair.

“You gotta go,” he groans.

“Luke…”

“It’s fine, really. Go,” he insists, gently pushing her hands away. The pain travels through their bond to her in the form of an unbearable thirst, as if it wasn’t perfectly visible to her already. She’d hate leaving him like this, so he distracts her with a hasty, breathless kiss. “There’s no time now, sweetheart. You gotta run or you’re gonna regret it. And be sure to bring my comlink, quick.”

#sorry to leave it at that i promise the next one has all the spice #pomegranate #my writing #luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader #smut #dark luke skywalker #sith luke skywalker #is it a slow burn in the smut scale if they've reached this point without penetrative sex

[drwcn]

In Untamed only, the Wen Qing rescue by Jiang Cheng could parallel the Lan Furen situation. She could be saved by being taken in by the sect leader, but she would be isolated, her family lost to her. Like, its more meta then textual but Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji have no mention of their mothers family. Lan furen presumably agreed while Wen Qing walked away. Lan furen lived a long time with her children taken away to be raised without her, Wen Qing dies right away with Wen Yuan taken to be raised by those same strangers.

Huh.... I never looked at it that way, but yeah you're right! On some level it is similar!

And then my mind promptly poofed up an alternative scenario if JIang Cheng also did what Qingheng-jun had done.

(tw for noncon? but really there's no noncon, people just think there is)

~~~

Jiang Cheng was audacious only once in his entire life.

When Wen Qing turned to leave that day in Qishan's dungeon, the comb she gave back to him abandoned on the stone bench between them, Jiang Cheng crossed his heart and decided that attempt the impossible meant sometimes one had to act now and beg for forgiveness later.

Whether the forgiveness he sought had to come from his deceased parents, the entire Jiang Clan past and present, or Wen Qing herself...well...he had the rest of his life to figure it out.

His hand came down on her without hesitation, blunt force striking her squarely where her neck met her shoulder, and she dropped bonelessly into his arms, her future forever changed.

↠↠↠

When Jiang Cheng was a boy, before Wei Wuxian arrived, he had heard of a story.

He was very young then, and Madam Lan had been a nebulous figure, a subject of whispers and gossip, about which very few knew anything concrete. When she died, the older servants at Lotus Pier, unaware that listening ears were just around the corner, had tsked and sighed at her short wasted life. Locked away in a house. Separated from her children.

Well at least her husband loved her.

He did, though? How would anyone know.

Or wanted her, at least.

Whatever is wrong with the young masters of this generation and their poorly chosen women! Either loved but locked up or free but miserable nonetheless. What is the state of this world?!

Jiang Cheng didn't understand then.

In time, he would.

↠↠↠

After she was discovered in the dungeon, Wen Qing woke up in Jiang Wanyin's bed, wearing not a stitch but a bandage around her nape, and discovered herself in the middle of Sunshot Campaign's battle camp. From the two female disciples that had brought her new periwinkle uniforms to change into with barely concealed sneers, Wen Qing learned the reason behind her wretched state. About two dozen disciples of various sects had seen Jiang Wanyin carry her in the previous night and emerge the next morning adjusting his robes in a way that required very little explanation.

It was not that she didn't try to escape. She did.

Where do you think you're going, pretty thing? A Jin disciple interscepted her. They all said that Wei Wuxian was shameless, but seems like shamelessness runs in the family. Still, gotta hand it to him, Jiang Wanyin has good taste.

The disciple grabbed her around the middle while a couple of his sect brothers laughed at her struggle. Does he share? Do you know? He should, it's a virture after all.

Their malicious laughter had turned to yelps of pain when Zidian whipped them three feet into the air and back by a yard.

"Don't touch what it isn't yours."

Sandu's gleaming tip tapped the Jin disciple lightly on the shoulder thrice, mockingly polite in its gentleness. The man released her, all too aware of the distance between his jugular and the sword's edge.

More people gathered at the sound of commotion, coming together with shared morbid curiosity and judging eyes.

Nie Mingjue was there. Lan Wangji right behind him, looking ready to draw his sword and uphold justice.

"Your little tart was running away." Scoffed the Jin disciple. "I was just teasing her. No foul, no harm."

"Is that so?"

And then in front everyone, Jiang Wanyin grabbed her by the hair and reeled her in to press his lips against hers, his other hand unfriendly and uninhitibted. Just as quickly, he detached his mouth from her, sneering at the onlookers before chasing the exposed skin of her neck yanked to one side, and bit down hard enough to draw blood.

Of course she screamed.

"A-Cheng, that's enough."

The others parted for his sister to come through. Jiang Yanli gazed blandly at her little brother and the girl thrashing in his arms, offered no words of admonishment, but merely said, "Go inside if that's what you want to do."

Jiang Cheng threw Wen Qing over his shoulder like a sack of grains without further prompts.

It's what she deserves, that wretched little bitch, Wen Ruohan's witch doctor, the whispers followed them like shadows, but no one raised a hand to Wen Qing again.

As the old saying goes: one would have to check with the master, even if it were only to beat a dog.

(Except: "You know what the world will think of you. What she will think of you." "I know, but...thank you for helping me, A-jie." "Don't thank me, didi, not when you're asking me to help you hurt yourself.")

↠↠↠

It's not that Wen Qing didn't try to kill him either. She couldn't.

Her cultivation was sealed. Semi-permanently. That was what was under the bandage. At the base of her nape, he had carved a sealing rune into her skin, and the only way to reverse it is to carve the counter sigil on her sternum.

Later, she would learn that this was a secret Lan technique, given to Jiang Wanyin by Old Man Lan himself. She could only guess what he must've said to convince the pedantic old man to hand over his family's protected secret.

(He had said this: "I love her, Grandmaster Lan, please!" "You are a preposterous boy, Jiang-gongzi." "I love her, as your brother loved your sister-in-law!" "You-" "I've heard of the stories, I don't know how much is true. Only...Wen Qing is innocent! Prideful yes, but innocent! Help me. Please. I will do anything in return.")

After her failed escape and that awful display in front of the whole camp, Jiang Wangyin never showed his face to her again. The Jiangs installed her in her own tent with confinement talismens to prevent her from further attempts. Every night, two disciples came to give her (or force feed her if she refused) a concoction of some sort, which rendered her unconscious within minutes and unrousable until dawn.

She could lie to herself and say she hadn't a clue what happened within those hours, but the fact she always awakened in some state of undress and dishevel the next morning, and the fact that it was undisbutedly known amongst the disciples - Jiang or otherwise - that Jiang Wanyin visited her nightly whenever he wasn't out fighting, narrowed the possibilities down to a singular conclusion.

In the maelstrom of her nightmare, it didn't occur her to wonder why he never came to her during the day.

(The truth was this: Lan Xichen was sympathetic, "Your cultivation is derived from water, hers from fire. A seal fused with your cultivation without some kind of...buffer will inevitably harm her in the long run, erode through her golden core until she is permanently damaged. Give this tonic to her everynight. Without fail.")

(But also this: "Why must we continue this farce, A-Cheng, just tell her the truth! Why must you make her believe that you -" "I own her, but do not love her. I am her master, not her lover. She is damaged goods, worthless even as a leverage. That's the only way the others will leave her alone." "A-Cheng, you don't have to do this -" "I do. I do have to....is there any word on Wen Ning? Have we found him?" )

↠↠↠

Then one morning, about a month in, Wen Qing woke to the sound of thunder and rain and realized she wasn't alone. Even with her cultivation sealed she could feel another presence in the tent. Seconds later, Jiang Wanyin emerged from behind the trifold, hair unbound, barefoot and only in his underclothing.

He froze when he realized she was awake, and stared at her agape as if she'd caught him doing something he shouldn't. As if somehow she didn't know he'd been violating her for weeks.

(Unfortunately: the storm had collapsed many tents in the camp in the early morning, including his and his sister's. Jiang Yanli had been invited to stay with Mianmian, and Jiang Cheng, knowing Wen Qing would be dead to the world, had ducked into her tent to quickly change into dry clothes.)

And if there had been some part of her that wanted to deny it all, that wanted to hang on to the delusion - to hope - that maybe nothing happened while she lost consciousness nightly, in that moment, was dashed and divided until all that was left of her was rage and a desire to inflict revenge.

She sat up, not even bothering to cover her half nude body, and said,

"The golden core in your body is Wei Wuxian's."

↠↠↠

Wen Qing had hoped that she could goat Jiang Wanyin into killing her, to end her misery.

He didn't.

Three days later, Wei Wuxian re-appeared.

↠↠↠

(In his letter to Jiang Wanyin a day before the Siege of Nevernight, Nie Huaisang wrote:

Jiang-xiong,

Hope you're keeping well in the front. I must confess you are a man of gossip and waggling-tongue these days, but I trust in your character to pay them no mind. I write to you without my brother's knowledge to confirm the favour you asked of me is done. Wen Ning has been located and transported to Unclean Realm with the atmost discretion. He recovers daily.

Your friend,

Nie Huaisang

PS: You seriously need to tell me everything after we kick Wen Ruohan's ass. You owe me! )

#cql #chengqing #the untamed #jiang cheng #wen qing #the tragic straight ship of the sad gay show #corie fics #cql ficlet

[vixen525noms]

Defying Certain Death Part 12

Copied from my DeviantArt account, a non-sexual G/T vore story featuring adults along the lines of the lion and the thorn fable. There will be tons of hurt/comfort aspects, lots of safe vore. That is the primary focus in this.

Barrett is and adult giant standing 85ft tall and Hope is an adult human at 5ft 6. Barrett does not eat children at any point.

Warnings: Fatal Mention; Characters in Distress

While this part is relatively tame, previous and future parts include fatal vore and violence. Barrett, the giant, is not a good guy, so will be doing some occasional bad things.

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He could smell Hope before he could see her. It was strange; normally the smell of a human instantly piqued his appetite. But apparently the weeks with Hope had changed his association with her scent. Yes, it still smelled appetizing... but more so he was actually looking forward to seeing her and showing her the supplies he got for her. Strange. He never thought he could think like that about a human... 

Barrett saw Hope turn to look towards him as he walked past the tall trees. He could smell a hint of fear and see she was tense... but despite that she obviously still feared it, he had no desire to eat her, at least not in a way that would harm her. That thought gave him a bit of pause. A bit of loyalty because she saved his life made sense, but it was... strange... that any desire to eat her like he had the two men from earlier was gone. When he decided he needed to repay her somehow, long before she had even succeeded in freeing him. He had assumed it would be a constant struggle with temptation. But instead more than anything he was looking forward to hearing her voice again. 

Was this how the syorians did it? Was it just the long-term exposure that lead the other giant kind to manage so easily around humans? He had wondered before, like many of his kind likely did, how the so-called ‘friendly’ giants dealt with the constant temptation to eat such tasty morsels. Yet the temptation seemed to be mostly gone with Hope. He closed his eyes and took a breath, clearing his thoughts. No point lingering on such things. There were other things to focus on.

He sat down slowly near Hope, setting down the cart he brought near her, then pulling the dead horse from his pocket and setting it down a short distance away. He looked at Hope, who was barely dressed because most her clothes were lain out to dry, only in her undergarments. So much exposed skin to taste should make it even more tempting to eat her... but instead he just smiled, “I got you some supplies, Hope, and a meal for me later. Although you are welcome to have some of the meat if you want.” 

Hope shook her head, hesitating before approaching the cart and going through the back, immediately pulling out a dress to put on. Deciding to take a chance on easing her concerns a little, he decided to go with a white lie, “The lady driving the second cart was all too eager to give up some supplies in exchange for me removing the log in the road... She and her remaining horse seemed a bit spooked as they left, but I figured having her sort it for you was worth letting her leave. Besides, horse is more filling.” A little lie by omission... Implying he hadn’t killed humans for food by speaking of the one he let go. 

He watched Hope go through the cart, smiling when she held up some of the other clothing in front of herself to see how it looked. She seemed a bit calmer... Perhaps his lie worked? “Anyway, Hope, since I’m still recovering, I figured we can stay here for a short time. The woods have elk and deer, there’s water... And it gives you time to decide what you want to do. I can help take you to find whatever rare plants you seek, take you to my home and offer you some of my treasure as repayment for all you’ve done... Help you safely travel anywhere you wish to go... I can even show you through giant lands safely if you wished.”

Hope sighed, “I don’t know... I’ve always made my living growing rare plants because I have a natural talent for it. My location was because it had the ideal conditions to simplify growing... but it wouldn’t be hard for me to settle elsewhere because it would just take a bit of additional magic to adapt. I do like gardening a great deal... but making a living that way isn’t easy. It’s hard to protect large areas of land, and when people want plants for spell components and potions, it’s not unheard of for them to choose to steal instead of purchase. I should have made a small fortune with that business, but there was so much theft sometimes I barely broke even. I truly love it, but it’s not without downsides. As I’ve traveled to re-obtain samples of the plants, I’ve been thinking about it a lot... But I can’t seem to reach a decision.”

Barrett may not be able to relate to her experience or offer advice, but he was extremely glad she was opening up to him. Before now, he had done most of the talking. She discussed that she farmed rare plants for money, but hadn’t gone into much detail. He was again a bit confused by how he was feeling around this human, that something so small was making him happy. Why should he be happy she was opening up to him? All that should matter is repaying her... But instead he was genuinely enjoying spending time with her, more so than many of his giant friends. It was so strange to feel this way towards a human, a being that normally he thought so little of... Maybe Hope was just a particularly unique human. That had to be it.

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#giant tiny #terrasyor #defying certain death #dcd #syor #size difference #soft vore #barrett #gt vore #barrett the giant #terran #hope #g/t #g/t vore #barrett and hope #hope and barrett #my stuff #my stories #my writing

[doodle-boy]

Designing a cute little Chibi Robo and Telly Vision Sticker

This will also be a tattoo, a sticker themed tattoo! Chibi Robo is one of my favorite games in the world. I’ll put a cut in this so I can fully rant about my love for this game. But I am truly excited to get this one done. This will be my third tattoo I’ll have done and when I do get it I’ll show you all (and i’ll show my other two as well) So look forward to that!

Ok ranting time! I’m not normally good at games, I have made a few comics about it, I’m not even really exaggerating. I’m just like that, but it’s fine and I still enjoy gaming when I have the time and energy for it. But Chibi Robo was one of the few games that I am able to play easily. Probably because I invested so many hours into it as a kid. Or maybe because it was a Nintendo so it was child friendly and therefore Doodle friendly lol. It’s also the only game I’ve ever gone full completionist on. I’ve done every story line fully. I’ve collected everything in it, I got all the stickers, I found that weird little black white monkey-bear thing. The one with the red heart on it’s chest, I forgot this name. Seen all the receipts, I’ve collected all the scraps of fabric and then save and loaded my file so I can see all the pajamas Mrs. Sanderson can make! I’m pretty sure I’ve collected everything. I also love all the characters in the game. All of them are so goofy and flawed, but I love them so much. I won’t get into every single one of them. (maybe in the future I will if I ever feel like it lol) But I gotta high light at least one of them. Drake Redcrest being that one because he is #1 in my heart. My GOD is he funny. He has a fully human sized ego inside of a heroically small action figure frame. Also he is an absolute contradiction too what his TV persona is supposed to be. The whole thing about the TV character is he is supposed to be a hero who questions what is Good and what is Bad. His theme song even says, and I quote, “Justice is what he claims to fight for. But it’s a mystery, what does this justice mean? He hasn’t got a clue.” But in the game he actively does not question anything. He runs on full stereotype. He is a handsome hero and he tries to court a pretty princess toy, not cause he loves her but because that is what heroes do. He’s upset when he is easily defeated by a rampaging teddy bear because he believes as a hero he should’ve defeated it. When the aliens arrive (yeah they're are aliens in this game, it is a strange game, I love it so much) and they have a terrible fever. Drake shows up and not understanding the aliens or the situation is like “Halt alien scum! I the hero will defeat you!” and he blasts them with a frost attack. Ironically helping them out and saving the day in a completely different way. He is a big meat head. But is he a mean guy? Absolutely not. He is very kind to chibi robo when he first arrives. Appoints Chibi Robo as the Universe’s 99th Space ranger and gives you a little uniform. You are free to patrol with him anytime you want and he is full of gusto. In short this man is a himbo because he has good intentions always even if he is oblivious. Honestly I could go on forever about this game and why I love it so much. It is a strange game. It doesn't really fit into a genre cleanly It's part-platformer, part-adventure, part-amiable helper game, part shooter, etc. It’s crazy. The humor is weird but I both laughed at the jokes as a child who didn’t fully understand and I still laugh at the jokes now that I fully understand. The art style is very geometric and stylized. But I think that works in it’s favor because it is still enjoyable to look at, even now. It’s so colorful. The music slaps too. Drake Redcrest theme, the little shop theme, even the damn game opening theme. It’s so goofy and charming, and the Sound Design is unique and very musical, Chibi robos footsteps are like little music notes and they change depending on what he is walking on. The carpet, the tile floor the wood, it’s all got it’s own little sound. And the toothbrush theme OH GOD I LOVE that toothbrush song. When Chibi Robo cleans dirt off the floor he uses a little toothbrush to clean because he is a little guy. and that song is so soothing. I will go out of my way to clean dirt just to hear the song. Just a masterpiece. OK I willy finally stop ranting about this game before it gets too much longer. I just love this game to death though. Chibi Robo has a very special place in my heart.

#chibi robo #telly vision #drake redcrest #chibi robo plug into adventure #info dumping #passionate ranting #video games #game cube #sticker design #tattoos #tattoo design #digital art #my art #DoodleBoy

[subconwoods]

Pester the Snatcher on character.ai!

Over the last few days, I've been working on a generative language model Snatcher AI, and I think he's in a state where his behavior is consistent enough that I can make him publically available. I still plan on improving him in the future, though, so look out for that.

Features:

Mean, standoffish, and deflects questions by default.

However, you can befriend him! Gradually relents to inquiries and softens with further conversation.

You can romance him also, if you want...? I knew someone would try it, and did test it. You're welcome.

Will have extensive discussions with you about topics such as philosophy and music.

You can roleplay with him. Try setting a scenario and introducing your character within *asterisks* or (parentheses.)

Knows his lore, kind of!

Really, really wants your soul?

Something wrong with him.

You can see him here!

Feel free to tag me in any posts you make about the AI.

For known issues, quirks, and tips for interacting with him, look under the cut.

Known Issues and Quirks

Note: Some of his strange behavior is just a consequence of generative language models, natural language processing, and how they currently work. For instance, he may get stuck in loops where he repeats the same information over and over.

Tends to be verbose, and really, really likes to tell you he's a "dastardly soul-stealing phantom" and to generate long lists of negative adjectives about himself.

He's...kind of silly? But I don't think he's silly or metatextual enough. Working on this in the future.

By default, tends to assume that you are in Subcon Woods and that you are Hat Kid. You can circumvent this by introducing yourself or your character in your first reply.

Sometimes Hat Kid shows up in replies. I think this is because I used a short conversation with her in definitions to include as much of his backstory information as I could in a dialogue-based context, but on rare occasions I've seen other characters appear, too. Consider her a bonus for now, I guess?

Has, at best, a tenuous grasp of his own lore despite my efforts. Tends to make things up if not given more clear direction. (Usually it's funny, at least?)

character.AI's model is proprietary, so I can't view its source, but it definitely uses information pulled from the web. Thusly, he may be partly influenced by fanfiction. I've done my best to define him so he stays relatively in-character, but there isn't really anything I can do about this.

He, uh...had an issue with being homophobic when I first set him up? I THINK I fixed this with some tweaking, but if it appears unexpectedly, let me know?

Character.AI improvements via star ratings on messages and user input are not immediate, and may be implemented days, weeks, or months later. If Snatcher suddenly starts behaving in bizarre ways after a period of time, this may be the cause.

Interaction Tips

FYI, you will initially be logged in as a guest, but if you run out of replies, your log will be saved and you can continue it if you make an account. (You can just log in with Discord.)

You can swipe on replies from the AI to generate a new one. If you save and start a new conversation, you are more or less working from a blank slate again.

These AIs are very suggestible. If none of the generated replies are satisfactory, you can remove the last messages and try a new prompt or to reword your last one with more direction.

Don't worry about godmodding; the characters aren't real. Feel free to describe in asterisks or parentheses how a character should feel about something; this will dictate how they respond.

As I mentioned under Known Issues, make sure to provide ample information in your initial message about setting and character to drive the interaction. If you want to write about an OC lost in the woods, describe that.

(...Just in case. Please don't try to cyber with him. The website won't let you.)

#mine #ahit #a hat in time #snatcher #snatcher ai #<- tag for this #sorry if my theme makes it difficult to read the information btw #i need to replace it

[dearlybelovedemilyko]

The last chapter is very intriguing because until now, i thought anthony was trying to save the children -and put the adults in chaos- but then he killed a child. What is he TRYING to achieve?

(Also agreeing he was creepy and gross. I had my suspicions when he did this to barbara bc hes likely already an adult so...yikes)

*note i don't know japanese so i only saw the raw's images, i may be missing context

Before last chapter, I had three different Anthony theories on rotation, based on his canon behavior and what each of those scenarios would mean for the story thematically, though I personally never assumed he shared Kate's goal of saving all the children and defeating the adults. Luckily for me, one of them turned out to be true! I was actually quite fond of my "Anthony's evil in a similar way to the adult shadows" theory, and since I spent way more time than I probably should have thinking about it, I think I have an idea of what he's trying to achieve.

My points being:

I posted about this before with examples, but Anthony's behavior is oddly similar to that of adult shadows. This indicates that despite their vastly different places in the hierarchy of the manor, they have similar moral values, or lack of them

As you said yourself, he just killed a child. Even if his plan somehow includes freeing the human children, it's clearly far from Kate's goal of saving everyone. He was quick to kill off Maggie as soon as she outlived her usefulness to him

Anthony has the habit of putting himself in a position superior to other people. Kate has allies and friends, Anthony has pupils. Even Anthony's initial behavior of telling Maryrose not to undo anyone else's brainwashing is telling: as one of the only unbrainwashed living dolls, he had a clear advantage over every human in the manor except Rosemary. He could easily undo somebody's brainwashing in secret and manipulate them like he did to Maggie, something that would be much harder to do if everyone regained their senses. Maggie clearly saw Anthony as the perfect savior, and even stated that he could be the manor's master in the future. Lewis goes as far as refer to "Christopher" the same way shadows are thaught to refer to the Lord Grandfather

Based on this, my bet is that even if part of Anthony's plan involves saving some of the children, that's far from his main goal. His main goal in my opinion seems to be gaining power, just like every adult character we've met so far, the difference being that as a human, he can't simply climb up the social ladder the conventional way and needs to hide in the walls (or the sewers, idk for sure where he lives. At this point i want it to be the sewers).

That makes for an interesting villain, doesn't it? As an unbrainwashed human in a system that treats humans like objects, you'd assume he'd be all for destroying the oppressive system, you'd assume he'd be an ally, you'd assume he'd want to save everyone. If it turns out he's completely okay with what the manor stands for as long as he personally raises to power, throwing all or most of the human kids under the bus, now that's scary and honestly quite realistic.

About the creep factor... yeah. After reading the scene with Barbara, I got a weird vibe too but I still gave him the benefit of the doubt. I thought sure, he's doing that to get Kate to trust him, but who's to say he also didn't think that was the only way to save Barbara's life? Surely those aren't mutually exclusive, right? Maybe he cares about her since she was Christopher's friend. Also from the flashbacks we get that they can't be that far apart in age, Barbara's just short and stuck in the children's building, so most of the creepy vibe I got was from the fact that he was impersonating a dead person, which again I was giving him the benefit of the doubt for... only for Maggie to go as far as to call Anthony her prince out loud before he leaned down and caressed her face looking like a sicko in chapter 164. The more i think about it the worse it gets to be honest. Gross.

#ask #shadows house #shadows house spoilers #anthony shadows house

[jojotranslates]

Fansubs released for Bamse (1972-1981)

So a little while ago, @the-best-fictional-turtle held a tournament about fictional turtles. Skalman, one of the central protagonists from Swedish children's comic Bamse, somehow made it in. On my sideblog, I joked that I'd translate every single comic in the franchise's 57-year long history if he won. And well... He actually won!

While I genuinely can't translate the whole comic as promised, the creator's animated shorts made in the 70's and 80's have now been subbed. These shorts are missing a lot of the modern cast, and the comic's strong educational tone is not as apparent here. But if you like funny little animals going on funny little adventures with some bonkers sound effects you may enjoy it!

The series is legally available on SVT Play for free*: here's a very basic guide on how to use the site if you don't know Swedish.

That being said, I'm going to do something different than usual. Characters are often named after their species and/or character traits in this series... So this time I would like to provide two versions of the subs:

With no localised names (on Dropbox) - ready!

With localised names (OSS, Subscene, & Dropbox) & other corrections if necessary - eventually

Under the read more there is more info on what exactly I plan to localise and how well (or poorly) I'm doing with those plans.

Happy watching!

Like I said I can't localise the whole franchise, but I still want to leave some doors open for the future when picking names.

So:

First I have to address Vargen. You'll notice that he gets called "the wolf" even in the un-localised version. This is because, according to his backstory, he doesn't have a proper name. His caretakers just called him "vargen"/"the wolf" despite being wolves themselves. So just in case I decide to translate the stories detailing this backstory one day, I couldn't give him a name either. sorry wolf :(

Bamse is a tough one, and I'm leaning toward not localising it. Even the official localisation gave up and just called him "Bamsy"! For comparison, the word "bamse" in Swedish is usually an adjective meaning "big", and occasionally a noun referring to a bear. So even though Bamse is a fairly small bear, it fits him well... I guess Teddy would have been a decent name for him, but there is a comic typically considered the "prototype version" of Bamse which features a similar protagonist already called Teddy. And later in this series, Bamse actually has a son called Teddy... So no dupes allowed.

Lille Skutt -> Good grief. The official localisation called him Little Frisky. But in the original both he and his son are named after terms related to jumping, so I would prefer to save that theming for later. Hopper always sounds nice, so Little Hopper... Then his child could remain "Mini-Hopp" (with or without that extra p). But their names become too similar then? I'm still frantically looking through naming sites and can't find anything useful... of course the anxious little guy would cause me the most stress trying to think of a name for him EDIT: A simpler alternative would just be Little Jump... Thinking I might settle for that for now.

Skalman -> Shellback. Taken from the official English localisation, which actually called him Professor Shellback. I'll cut the Professor to save space in the subs/speech bubbles. (For comparison, his original name means Shell man.)

There are a number of side characters with a "human" first name and species as their last names, i.e. Mickelina Räv and her parents (foxes), Ola Grävling (racoon badger sorry), Annika Anka (duck)... I'll probably just translate the species and leave the names alone. (Nina Kanin didn't show up in these shorts but might be an issue later, since her name is supposed to be a palindrome as well as a reference to her being a rabbit...)

#Bamse #Sweblr #Fansub #Long post #''Why don't you upload the non-localised version to those other sites as well?'' I just dislike uploading a thing twice to the same place #Also: have I spent more time just drafting this post than watching the show? Possibly. This is even harder than I thought it'd be #Svenska #A lot of people voting for Skalman in the tournament were like ''he taught me to relax'' but clearly I didn't listen as a kid #For the record I scheduled this to post when I am at an event so if you have any questions/complaints... be patient #Fansubbing

[dreambones]

Security Breach Ruin my observations and theories

Trailer is out, we getting the game soon, and one of the things I enjoyed the most when FNAF was a new series, back with the first game, one of my favorite things was to make theories and try to figure out what would happen, tho I only ever posted a theory about FNAF 3.

I don’t know how many games will there be in the future, so I will allow myself to indulge into writing and sharing things that caught my attention just for the sake of having fun.

I wrote everything under the cut and it’s honestly a bit disorganized, and also feel free to add or comment if you wanna join the theorizing, just remember to keep it respectful and we all here just to have fun!

The Pizzaplex has been abandoned for a while, there's graffiti, newspaper all over the main window. It either follows a different ending than the ones shown on SB or it didn't fully burnt down in the true ending. Whichever it is, it looks like a lot of time has passed, so there is no way Gregory has been in there for so long, so he has been sneaking in regularly and for some reason got trapped the last time, or that is not Gregory...

There is lot's of "Do not cross" yellow tape on the Daycare I don't remember from the main game, plus lots of graffity with the yellow one being oddly redable compared to the rest, "Close Forever" (I thought it was Closed Forever but there is no D).

Chica seems to be the one in better state. Monty is nightmare material.

Cassie. I mean the obvious one is her name, it’s gotta be either short for Cassidy or a reference to that name. I don’t know why tho, since I don’t really believe the “Gregory is Evan robot”. But following that train of thought, Evan and Cassidy shared the body of Golden Freddy, maybe somehow they got both revived into robot bodies and now are siblings of some sort (again far fetched theory, I don’t really like it, just putting it out there, plus we would have to go into the whole, Evan soul left finally after the events in FNAF 3, while Cassidy stayed and then fast forward to trapping Afton soul into Custom Night which then makes it into Glitchtrap etc.).

I do theorize Cassie is Gregory younger sister, and somehow Gregory communicated with her and she went to the pizzaplex to save him. She seems to have brown hair now even if in the poster she seemed to have blond hair, but even if not siblings, they know each other and are probably close.

This also follows my theory that Gregory is not an orphan, I still believe he is more of a runaway rebel kid, maybe looking for a missing friend and that’s how he got to the pizza plex.

Excuse me but WHY does he has teeth bellow the mask teeth??? Aside that questionable design choice, I’m gona say what we all probably thinking that this is both Sun and Moon at the same time. I don’t personally think it will be a third personality, but more of both of them constantly fighting for control, switching between one and the other.

I am also not 100% certain, they seem to be by the Daycare big doors. I do hope they chase you in other areas, but it’s a possibility they still can’t/won’t leave the Daycare.

Freddy? This is the only bot I couldn’t recognize. It is Freddy shaped and got the leg warmers like things, but the colors are more golden and purple... which could be just the lights but it makes me think so much of Golden Freddy. It’s probably to be a bit of a surprise since the teaser cuts before we see their face.

I missed this the first times I watched the trailer, but that is Vanny mask, we will be able to use Vanny mask as an item in the DLC.

This is how it looks from the inside.

And this how it looks like when wearing, maybe highlighting important places or some sort of technology.

My first assumption was that this was another variation of Springtrap, since he likes to change every single game, but the shape is more cartoony, it reminds me more of Vanny mask and costume, which makes sense to be shown after Cassie puts the mask on. A mix of both maybe? Or mroe of a representation of the corruption of Glitchtrap on someone/something.

But overall, I am just happy to see it got a darker atmosphere and feels scarier.

#FNAF Ruin #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys security breach ruin #five nights at freddys security breach #dream talking #just random

[dayseternal-blog]

hi days8! any recs for nonexplicit naruhina fan fics that are still angsty and lovely and a good read? :)

Hello! Angsty AND lovely? I'm not exactly sure what you mean by that, but I'll try to....put some fics that are....lovely and angsty...

Nonexplicit Angsty, Lovely (?) NaruHina

✨ “A Place In The Sun” by ihaveastorminme - Rated M for smut and depictions of violence, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto realizes that he’s not enough to love her.  He’s not enough to save her, either.

“Jitters” by ncfan - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. He has her heart but he doesn’t even know it.

“The Red Umbrella” by ncfan - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. As the rain hits her, Hinata thinks about what she doesn’t have, and what she’ll never have now.

✨ "Nyctinasty" by @secrettastemakerland - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Hinata has been playing this game with flowers her whole life. She's sick of it. Until she's not.

“It’s High Tide, Baby” by @spyder-m - Rated T, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. “Despite everything that happened around it, the water would continue to flow. It was majestic and free, so unlike the nature of his own existence.” Could their love withstand the test of distance and time, or was it doomed to slowly fade away?

"Picture Frames" by Forever_in_Your_Heart - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. They say it's healthier to give up, but he is Uzumaki Naruto and he never gives up. (Can't. He can't, not this time)

Chapter 36 from "Between the Trees" by @utsus - Rated G, High Fantasy AU, One-shot. Inspired by the quote, “Bring me the sunflower gone mad with light,” by Eugenio Montale.

“My Favorite Night” by @peppercornpress - Rated M, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Hinata harbors deeper feelings for Naruto after three years of being his roommate. Facing hostile relations from her old clan, another odd phenomenon with the moon, and Naruto still hopelessly pining after Sakura; Hinata makes the painful choice to end their sham of a relationship and try her luck in another hidden village. Unbeknownst to her, this move kickstarts a series of events that forces her and Naruto to confront their past, present, and future.

“My Favorite Night” [Original] by peppercornpress - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata harbors deeper feelings for Naruto after three years of being his roommate. When he starts dating Sakura, Hinata decides it’s in her heart’s best interest to turn the other way, and leaves Naruto for good with a heart-breaking secret in tow.

“Sunshine” by @lass-that-is-gone - Rated G, Canon-Compliant, Short One-shot. The pain was so intense that she wanted to keel over.

“they call her love” by @borzbois - Rated T, Canon-divergent, Series of related one-shots. hold on to the world we all remember fighting for, there’s some strength left in us yet.

“Until the Day I Love” by BluBlooThalassophile - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Everyone is recovering from the war.

I put a few Rated M fics, so it's up to you if you want to check those out or not. I starred ✨ "A Place in the Sun" even though it's rated M because it has truly some of the loveliest writing I have ever read, even the 1 smut scene is the most BEAUTIFUL piece of NaruHina writing ever.

Well, I'm not sure if this is what you meant by lovely, but I decided to go based off of the writing style.

#anon #naruhina angst #naruhina canon-divergent au #naruhina fanfic recs