#but heart has been used a few times with P3 (more than one heart for the movie

[the-fiction-witch]

My Dear P3

Media - Game Of Thrones Character - Lancel Lannister Couple - Lancel X Reader Reader - Y/n Rivers (Darry Castle Maid Soon to be his bride) Rating - SMUT AF Word Count - 2465

Warnings - Non Consent / slight foot fetish / fondling

Lancel leaned back for a moment to catch his breath. What had happened over the last few moments was pure ecstasy for him. She was so innocent and he had claimed her in a very intimate way. Her breasts were still bouncing and jiggling and so he took the opportunity to fondle them again. She giggled uncontrollably as he fondled her and eventually she spoke

"Well you'll have to wait for all that till we're married Lancel"

Lancel felt a mixture of shame and disappointment upon hearing her say those words. It was obvious that she was unaware of her own charm and sexuality. Her innocence was endearing, but to have to wait until marriage was frustrating, especially since their wedding was no doubt months away.

Still his mood did not damped after hearing her words, he still found that what he had experienced up until now was enough to have him completely smitten for her. He was already planning on making her pregnant on their wedding night.

He did not want to push her further than she was comfortable and so decided to wait and play the long game with her for now.

"You are right my sweet. We must wait until our wedding night to know each other completely. But, that does not mean I cannot play around and have some fun until then."

Lancel smiled and began squeezing at her breasts again, loving the way her breasts were bouncing and jiggling under his hands.

"I do not mind playing Lancel but we should wait for... Love until our wedding night don't you agree?"

Lancel had to admit that she was right, they should wait to "know" one another until their wedding night. However, he enjoyed her naiveness about sexual matters and he found himself enjoying teasing her so he was unable to resist replying.

"My fair maid, we may not be "loving" one another as we might on our wedding night, but I cannot resist playing with those beautiful breasts of yours. It is my duty as your future husband to make sure they are completely healthy and free of any imperfections. Do you not agree?"

"well of course"

Lancel smirked to himself as he saw how eagerly she accepted his excuse to continue playing with her breasts. It was almost like she was encouraging him.

"Oh my sweet, can I ask you one more question?"

"yes Lancel?"

"What is the worst thing you have ever done in your life my sweet?"

"Hu? Ohh uhh... I stole a toffee once"

Lancel could not help but laugh at her answer. He could not believe she was so pure and innocent. To admit stealing a toffee was the worst thing she did, that was hilarious.

"Oh my sweet, that is it? That is the worst thing you have ever done?"

"mhm, I stole it from the market when I was little"

Lancel smiled as he laughed at her innocent little story.

"Oh my little, sweetheart, that is such a small thing to have on your conscience. What I was worried about when I asked that question was if you had ever done anything that was not so innocent. Such as..." He leaned forward close to her and spoke softly in her ear. "Has anyone, aside from me, ever touched your breasts?"

"oh no, only you Lancel"

Lancel could not help but grin with joy upon hearing her answer. She was still so innocent. The thought that she had never experienced the touch of another man made his heart race with excitement. He would have her soon enough, but until his wedding night, he would use her innocence to his own pleasure.

"Now I have one final question for this evening my sweet."

"yes Lancel?"

Lancel smiled at her and continued. " When was the last time you... pleasured yourself?"

"hum?"

Lancel chuckled at her response and the way her eyes widened. This was the reaction he had been hoping for. Her innocence was almost enough to drive him crazy with how sweet it was.

"It is a very simple question my sweet. When was the last time you pleasured yourself?"

"uuhh... I have not Lancel."

Lancel was astounded this beautiful, attractive young woman had never pleasured herself. He could not believe that she had never felt the need to take pleasure in her own body. This was something that he would have to rectify once they were married in his bed. Just thinking about her taking pleasure in her body with him made his heart pound in his chest.

When she answered, Lancel felt almost as if he had just won the jackpot. She had never pleasured herself, this meant that he would have a completely untouched body to claim as his own. His wife would be a fully pure and untouched woman for him to take to bed. He knew that his wedding night with her would be one that he would remember for the rest of his days.

"My beautiful, sweet maid, are you sure? You have never once pleased yourself?"

"no. Never."

Lancel could not believe how perfect this was. She had never once touched herself and with a body like hers, there must have been so many men that would have been willing, and yet she remained an untouched maiden. Lancel felt a tingling in his loins as he imagined what he would do to her. He was almost afraid he would be too excited come their wedding night.

He was almost at a loss for words, he could not believe what was happening. He was so happy that he had found such a pure and untouched maid who was to be his.

"Well, my beautiful maiden, I must admit my excitement is growing just at the thought of our wedding night. Just imagining what we shall do together in bed makes me... very excited."

"I'm excited to, we'll get to be In a big soft bed together"

Lancel could not stop grinning at her obliviousness to his real meaning. He was practically drooling at the thought of having her in bed with him on their wedding night.

"Yes my precious, we shall be in a soft bed together, and shall spend all night in each other's arms."

she blushed hard at the thought and at what he called her but she perked up turning to look out the window with a faint sad smile

Lancel was a little puzzled by her change. He had never seen such a beautiful expression on her face before, however the sadness in her eyes made him feel bad. He was almost nervous to ask her what had caused her sadness.

"My sweet, is something wrong? Why do you have such a sad look in your eyes?"

"Forgive me... The carriage just went over the stone way bridge ... We... We left Darry. Completely. I... I've never been past the Stone Way Bridge before."

Lancels heart sank when he saw the look of sadness on her face. He could not believe she was sad over the idea of leaving Darry. He could not imagine how he would ever compensate her for bringing her out of her comfort zone. He had promised to marry her and take her from Darry yet here he was taking her farther away from home than she had ever traveled before.

Lancel immediately reached across the seat and rested his hand on her thigh. His warm hands caressed her soft leg as he tried to reassure her. “My sweet, you need not worry. Your home is wherever I am, wherever I take you. You are my bride now and I shall protect and provide for you forever. No matter where we go, nothing bad will happen to you, you are safe with me...”

"I know, I'm sorry Lancel I just... I've never seen anywhere else or been anywhere else before"

Lancel’s hearts melted when she continued to apologize, she was so sweet, he just wanted to hold her and never let her go. He could not believe what he was feeling for this naive little maid.

"Oh my sweet, you need not apologize, I should have known you would be homesick. I promise to show you all the wonders of the world that lay outside Darry. You will never be homesick again, not while I watch over you..."

"thank you Lancel" she Smiled resting her head on his shoulder giving him a gentle hug but she pulled back "ohh sorry... Forgive me my lord i-"

The light touch of her body against his sent a shiver up his spine. He could not help the excitement he felt at having her close to him. Her words of apology, and her calling him "my lord", made him feel a sudden urge of dominance over her. However he restrained himself from taking her right then and there.

"Oh, it is not a problem my sweet. We are betrothed, you may give me as many hugs as you like, that is just one of the many benefits of being my bride-to-be."

she giggled but couldn't hold back a wide yawn

His heart melted when she yawned. She was so precious and innocent. She did not have a clue of the thoughts he had for her, he wanted her body so badly just so he could take care of her. He would be responsible for keeping her happy and entertained for the rest of her life, it was the one thing he had always wanted.

"My sweet, you seem tired. Why don't you lay your head on my shoulder and rest?"

"I wonder if maybe I could lay on the bed? It looks so soft and cosy?"

Lancel could not help but grin at her innocent suggestion. She was such a sweet maiden, he loved that she still had the mind of a child. she was so innocent and naive. Her desire to lay in the bed was adorable, and he could not think of anything he would want more than to cuddle with her in that bed.

"Oh my sweet, that is an excellent idea. Nothing could make me happier than to see you relaxed and comfortable while we travel. Please lay down and rest yourself."

she nodded and gave his head a kiss before she got up and took wobbly little steps in the moving carriage all but falling on the small red bed in her little grey dress, she kicked off her boots revealing her bare feet and laid herself with her head on the pillow "umm goodnight Lancel..."

Lancel could not help but watch her as she walked over to the bed, her little wobbly walks were adorable. She was such a sweet, innocent maiden. The way she laid her head on the pillow and said "goodnight" made his heart skip a beat. She looked so vulnerable as she lay there just waiting to be taken advantage of. She was so pure. He wanted her all to himself...

Lancel sat there for a while, watching her lay there with her head on the pillow. Her little bare feet sticking out of the blankets was too tempting for him. He could wait no longer, he was going to take what was his.

Lancel could not resist the temptation that was his betrothed laying in that bed. He knew that he would enjoy the warmth of her body, and that the feeling of her skin would be an addictive feeling that he would long for constantly. Her bare feet were an invitation to him and he was going to have what was his...

Lancel began to unbuckling his sword belt as he walked over to the bed. The way her bare feet wiggled underneath the covers had sent his heart soaring. He was going to have her, and he hoped she would not resist.

she laid on the bed inside the moving luxurious carriage the bed of soft silks and cottons she drifted away almost immediately, her head on the pillow her hair matted and messy along the pillow her rough grey dress all she wore her body moving as the carriage jostled thought the uneven roads, she had no blanket or sheet over her at all and her bare feet laid on the silk sheets exposed as her dress hem sat at her knees,

Her movements as she lay on the bed were both hypnotic and arousing to him. Her exposed body, her bare feet especially, was enough to drive any man crazy with desire. Her dress sitting at her knees gave her an extremely seductive appearance, he loved the look. He was surprised that she had laid there with such little clothing on and without a blanket to keep her warm. It was almost as if she was inviting him to take her right then and there. He let his sword belt drop the sound didn't even stir her so tried for a proper soft bed nothing would wake her, his eyes lingered on her muddy pale feet completely exposed again the silk sheets

Her exposed feet were too much for him to resist. He could not help but imagine what it would be like to run his hands along the smooth bare skin of her feet. She was so precious, so innocent. She was also completely vulnerable to whatever he wished to do to her. The way her feet lay on her sheets begged him to kiss them, and he would enjoy doing so immensely. He knelt on the bed and kisses Y/ns bare feet

Lancel did not realize just how much her soft bare feet would excite him. As she lay there in a deep sleep letting him do as he liked, he began kissing her feet softly. Her soles were so soft and warm. His tongue traced the curves of her toes, teasing them with pleasure.

she didn't move or make a sound too deep in sleep, Lancel couldn't wait a moment more he wanted to inspect his soon-to-be bride. He tugged at the lacing of her dress and tugged it up being gentle as she stirred slightly as he pulled off her dress leaving her laid naked on the silk sheets, her naked body exactly what he has pictured, perfect hips, beautiful breasts, an ass he wanted to ravish, Her whole body moved now utterly unrestricted as the carriage moves

Lancel could not control the surge of excitement that ran through his body as he took in his bride's body. She was absolutely gorgeous underneath her clothes. He could not believe that she had been hiding such a beautiful body underneath her plain dresses. He also caught sight of the bush that she had down below and he was not disappointed. He was eager to touch her, to explore every inch of her body. It was what he had always dreamed of.

As his fingers explored the softness of her skin they ran along her hip and the gentle curve of her thigh. His heart was pumping with anticipation for what was to come. He was going to have his bride in his bed and there was not a thing she could do to stop him.

#game of thrones lancel #lancellannister #lancel lannister x reader #game of thrones lancel lannister #lancel #eugenesimon

[fem-blade-adept]

Things to know when getting into the Persona Series

Since the remaster of Persona 3, there’s been a lot of renewed interest in the series as well as a few people, not just from here, but in my real life, inquiring to me about what you should know before getting into the series, so here is a list of general tips you should know and to keep in mind:

Content Warnings. This is straight up just a point. As out there and as crazy as the Persona World can get, Persona is grounded in the struggles of people, of humans and the human condition. Things like suicide, abuse, loss, death, pain, emotional trauma. It’s not for the faint of heart, so I recommend bracing yourself.

Time Commitment. I know it doesn’t look like it, but most Persona games are a 200 hour commitment to one playthrough. Not even kidding. P5R takes me 130 and I know that game like the back of my hand and skip through a fair amount of dialogue because I know where the fluff is. Prepare yourself for that kind of time sink.

Stats vs Friends. The endless Persona debate. Which is more important? On a first playthrough, my recommendation. Focus on stats and the characters that intrigue you the most. Stats get you access to more people so you don’t feel like you’re running into walls everywhere. Also, be aware of their stories. Sometimes, if a character is important enough, their story takes a halt and is postponed until later. Learn to be flexible and managing your time properly will come with more experience.

Persona Preferences. I view Persona in the way that a lot of people view Pokemon. Sure, I could ramp all the way to the high level Personas if I really wanted to, but then I’d miss out on a lot of gems along the way. Nekomata is a level 2 Persona in P3R and I kept her viable the entire game AND used her in the final fight. So I cannot stress this enough: USE YOUR FAVORITES. Persona has the incredible perk of leaning into the myriad of mythos and legends the world has to offer, so explore them all. Also, every persona has the capacity to do most whatever you want it to, so as cool as Satan is, he can still do about the same thing that Nekomata can and Nekomata is available all game. Satan is not.

Where To Start. This is really the main question I get asked the most and with a series like Persona where every game tells a different story, it’s hard to decide where to begin. Here’s the answer I give everyone: P5R. I know, a lot of people will say “but what about regular P5?” Trust me, you get the same game in P5R just with more content. And why P5R? P5R puts you at the starting block in the best way. Great story, great graphics, and it gives you the simplest version of the story that pervades all Persona lore while helping you discover it yourself instead of always feeling like you’re behind other characters. Also, the combat, while incredibly varied, is much easier to succeed at than in P3 or P4 because there are so many skills and tools and it helps you grasp the concepts easier before stripping you of them in P3 or 4.

How to Decide when to Enter/Leave the Dark Hour/Palaces/Mementos/TV World. Time blindness is a lot of people’s worst enemy and that doesn’t change when you make it a video game mechanic. The best tip I can give you is this: limit yourself to one or two trips per story chunk. Especially if you want to dig into character stuff. Characters usually aren’t doing much at the beginning or end of the story chunks. Beginning is more viable because you’re not in crunch time at that point. The end gets more finicky because characters start to worry if you don’t complete your current main objective/palace before the due date. TLDR: Finish the main objective ASAP. Try to complete it in one day if you can. Then, you can spend more time romancing/team building/hanging out with people while waiting for the next due date and if you need to take another trip to complete Compendium stuff or Requests from the Velvet Room or Phan Site if you’re in P5R, wait until the last 2 days.

#p4g #p3 reload #p5 royal #new players welcome #persona series

[imthebadguyyy]

Hi. This is mine request

Y/n is a teammate of max verstappen, they are in a relationship, y/n crashes and max is worried about her, and he is gonna visit her in the hospital, and when she is released he takes care of her, with a lott of fluff thanks

You Scared Me To Death !

Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader

Fandom - F1

Summary - When you get hurt, Max realizes just how much you mean to him.

Warnings - mentions of injury, fire, explosion, violence, angst, crash details.

75 laps. That's all that you had to do. Drive for 75 laps. The Bahrain Grand Prix had always been one of your favourite races of the year, and you were so excited. But that excitement had soon ebbed away, after you had missed qualifying because your car wasn't ready for the quali session. The RedBull mechanics had apologised and you had brushed them off, buy you would be lying if you said you weren't angry. It hadn't helped when your teammate and boyfriend Max qualified P1, beating the Mercedes by mere tenths of a second. You had swallowed your hurt and congratulated Max, forcing yourself to feel happy for him.

All it had done was made you determined to win the race tomorrow, even if you had to fight 19 other drivers to do so. Starting P20 on the grid sucked big time, but as Martin Brundle said, "If anyone can fight back from the back of the grid to the podium places, its Y/N L/N" and you had done it before, at the German GP the previous year, fighting back from P19 to P3, winning Driver of The Day as well.

But this race was different. There was a building intensity in the air, you felt it in the air around you. You felt tense and nervous, and you were never nervous. It scared you, but you were going to be damned if you let it show on your face. In your drivers room, you paced back and forth, trying desperately to stop your hands from shaking. Was this what anxiety felt like? you wondered, shaking your head as your heart started hammering against your chest. Far to consumed in your own panicked thoughts, you didn't see your boyfriend walk up to your door, and open it to walk inside.

Max walked into your room, expecting to see you vibing to some R&B music, or something by Rihanna. But you weren't. You were pacing, your brow furrowed and he could see the irregular rise and fall of your chest. He walked up behind you silently, before wrapping his arms around your waist, like he normally did. What he wasn't expecting was your reaction. Usually, you would giggle and let your head fall onto his shoulder, and he would kiss your neck and you two would share a moment. But not this time. This time, you jumped, and nearly fell over onto your bed. "Woah schtaje ! It's just me' he said, eyes softening in concern. "I'm sorry I didn't see you and I shouldn't have jumped, I'm sorry I'm just so klutzy today and I'm also so nervous I-" your nervous rambling was cut off by a pair of warm lip pressing onto your own, as Max's hands cupped your face, instantly calming down your nerves.

You stayed like that for a moment, before pulling away softly, and letting him press his forehead down to yours, fingers gently tracing patterns on your hip. "Why are you nervous mijn geliefde ?" he asked, as he moved his lips to your neck, pressing little kisses along the sensitive skin. "I don't know" you confessed, tilting your head back to give him more access to the expanse of skin, while he stopped at a pulse point to suck at the soft skin, earning. soft moan from you. "Then stop stressing" he mumbled against your neck, word muffling against your skin. "I can't" you replied, struggling to keep the lump in your throat fro growing. "Well," Max said, biting down onto your neck and licking the spot to soothe it, 'Let me help you calm down"

--------------------------------

20 seconds to lights out.

Your heart was thumping so hard against your chest. God, were your hands always so clammy? Was the car always so stuffy ? Was the space always so confined? Was your helmet always that tight?

Your thoughts were muddled. You knew your goal. It was simple. Get to the podium. Except, right now, that goal seemed somewhat impossible. Before you knew, the first red light was flashing, and then the second, and the third and the fourth and the fifth, and then it was 'lights out and away we go!' you sped off, immediately overtaking Magnussen in the car ahead of you. Then, you overtook one of the Williams, but you could feel your breath wavering, and your heart threatening just burst out of your chest. And before you knew it, you were overtaking Giovinazzi in his Alfa Romeo, and the sight of Grosjean's Haas came into view, "And it looks like L/N has already taken over 4 places, making her P16, and we are on lap 2 of 75! It looks like we're going to see her on the podium after, all, but all we can do is wait and see- and oh! that's a terrible, terrible crash!"

It happened so fast. One moment, you were going round the outside of the Haas, and the next the back of the Haas was hitting your front, sending you crashing into one of the barriers, your car spinning a full 360 in the process. The impact as you crashed into the barriers was so intense, you felt yourself blackout for a few seconds.

"That was a horrible crash, between, the RedBull of Y/N L/N and the Haas, I believe of Romain Grosjean. This race has been red flagged and -oh no!' The cry summed it up. Your car had just burst into flames.

------------------------------------

In P1, Max was unaware of the chaos at the back, until he looked in his rear mirrors to see something enveloping into a ball of fire. "Holy shit, whose car is that?" he asked, watching as the flames grew higher. "Um.. Max, I need you to stay calm, but its Y/N" "Are you fucking serious?!" his angry voice burst through his race engineer's headphones, making him flinch. "Is she okay?! Tell me she's okay, damn it!' "Max, I need you to come into the pit lane. We have no information on her yet. Come into the pit lane"

As the 18 other cars came into the pitman, everyone knew better than to park in the way of an anxious Max Verstappen. He jumped out of the car, running to the garage upto Christian, who was watching the screen with his eyebrow furrowed. "Is she alright? Tell me she got out?! Did she get out?!" he was practically spitting the words out, and his engineer and his trainer had to physically restrain him from going to shake Christian. "She hasn't got out yet Max, but the fire Marshalls and the medical guys are there-" "What do you mean she hasn't got out? verdomme, blijf hier niet zitten! doe iets!!"

As his race engineer manoeuvred him to his chair, he yelled at whoever was around, eyes desperately searching to screen for some sign that you were still alive. Outside the RedBull garage, the other drivers were pooling around the garage for some sign that Y/N was okay. The panic had been evident in all their radios.

Charles - "Fuck, fuck, fuck, who was that? Y/N?! Tell me she's okay!"

Carlos - "Joder, ¿quién era ese?" I just saw the car go into flames, tell me they got out okay.

Lewis - oh shit, that was a big crash, fucking hell, is she okay?

Checo- oh no, that was a big one, I hope everyone is okay!

---------------------------------

Back in the car, you felt dazed. Since when was the track this hot, and since when when was your car red ? Were you driving for Ferrari ? No, you drove for RedBull, alongside Max. Your boyfriend Max. Why wasn't he here?

And why did you feel like you were sitting in a sauna? As you begain to regain your consciousness, you felt a searing pain on your hands, and finally clearing the fogginess of your mind, you became fully aware of what was happening. This was your RedBull car. But it was on fire. Almost instantly, your body went into survival mode, ripping the half burnt straps holding your body down, and forcing your limbs to stand up. Looking down you could see your racing gloves glow before they seemed to disintegrate into black dust before your eyes, the flames licking your hands. A scream started in your chest, only to be jammed in your throat, as you opened your mouth to gasp. Big mistake.

The smoke filled your mouth and lungs, and you choked, clawing at your race suit, begging some higher power to help you. Finally, using some courage and adrenaline you didn't know you had, you pulled your body up, bare hands coming in contact with searing hot metal, as your eyes filled with tears of pain. As you jumped out of the car, you became vaguely aware of 3 or 4 people signaling and screaming at you. Too exhausted to even think, you used whatever remaining adrenaline you had to stumble to the barrier and collapse into the first pair of arms.

"Can you hear me? Are you okay? Can you tell me if you're hurt?" The questions were hurled at you from all directions, but you couldn't speak. The head marshall walked up, bracing your body, and checking for injuries. In a hurried voice he asked for the stretcher, but you shook your head. The exhaustion was setting in but you knew you had to let the others know you were okay. But he insisted, and you found yourself sitting on the stretcher instead of lying down, as a medic gently removed your helmet and peeled off the remaining burnt glove, and pressed some ice gently against your burn. Mustering up your remaining strength, you turned to one of the broadcasting cameras and flashed them a tight smile and a thumbs up.

"And as you can see, she has managed to get out of the wreckage, by God's miracle. Thank God she's walked away from that, but how, I cannot comprehend! She went barelling into the barrier and burst into flames and she walked out alive! And I can hear the cheers of the RedBull team, and I think her race engineer is in tears. I can't begin to imagine how Max Verstappen must be feeling"

------------

Max Verstappen wasn't sure how he was feeling either. He had felt fear, anger, anxiety, more fear, devastation and dread in the longest 15 minutes of his life. But you were alive. And he felt like breaking down, but he had to be strong for you. He watched your tired form on the screen, feeling giddy with relief, and ignoring the others around him, he ran to the medical hospitality center. No one stopped him.

As the white building came into sight, he heaved a sigh of relief as Michael Masi appeared in front of the cameras to give the anxious fans an update. "Y/N is alright. She's currently in recovery, and I can inform you that she is okay. She has minor burns on her hands, and is exhausted, but she will be okay. 2 weeks healing time for the burns, and some proper rest should be fine for her. That's all I know, and I would ask the media, press, social media fans, and others to give her the time she needs to cope and recover. What she has been through is traumatizing and I hope you will respect her privacy at this time. Thank you"

Seeing his hesitation, the nurse turned to the driver, "It's okay. She's fine now. She's on some painkillers and I've cleaned her burns and dressed them. She will be fine, and you can hug her or whatever you want, she won't be hurt. I've kept some painkillers on the table, she should take some again in 2 hours or so" All Max could do was nod, suddenly feeling a lump grow in his throat. With a smile in your direction, the nurse walked out of the room, leaving you alone with Max.

Max turned to nod at the race director, before hurrying through the brown door that led to the medical room you were in. When he walked in, his entire body relaxed. You were alive and safe. Seeing you sitting up in bed, a bottle of water by your side as a nurse wrapped your burnt hand in a white bandage. Looking, your tired eyes met his blue ones, as a tired smile made his way to your face. "Y/N",he said breathily, "Thank God you're alive" he said, practically running over to you, but he stopped himself from hugging, unsure of if it would hurt you.

"Hey baby". All it took was two words for him to rush towards you, gently wrapping his arms around your form, burying his head in the crook of your neck, as a gasping sob left his mouth, and you could have sworn you felt your heart shatter. "I'm okay baby, I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm okay" your mantra of "I'm okay" was soothing, as he sobbed into your shoulder. "I thought I'd lost you, you scared me to death!" "I know my love but I'm here and I'm okay" "I thought you were gone. When I saw the flames behind me I didn't even know it was you in the car. When they told me it was you I swear my fucking heart stopped, and all I could do was pray to whatever higher power exists to save you, because I'm nothing without you. If you hadn't made it, I wouldn't survive. You make me better, you help me love, and you let me heal. I love you, and I never, ever want to see you in a situation like that again"

"I love you too" you said, your eyes filling with tears as you listened to him speak. "I love you too" you repeated, gently lifting his chin so his eyes could meet yours, his tear stained cheeks and red eyes breaking your heart, as you tilted your lips to meet his. He returned the kiss with desperation, he needed even more proof that you were alive, and feeling your lips on his were a reminder that you were alive and weren't going anywhere. He kissed you with fervour, hands moving to your hair, one cupping your cheek as his thumb traced your cheekbone, your hands clutching his broad chest.

"Ouch" the soft cry made you two break apart, as you rubbed your stinging hands. "Did I hurt you?" He said, his eyes filling with worry. "No its just the burn. It'll be fine" you replied, shifting in your bed and patting the spot next to you. After a moments hesitation, he climbed in, raising the sterile white sheet and tucking the both of you in. You snuggled up to him, arms wrapping around him as you rested your head on his chest. He rested his chin on your head, one hand running through your hair, the other keeping you stable on his chest. Within seconds, you were asleep.

Looking down at your sleeping form, his eyes lingered on the white bandage covering your burn, his eyes filling again as it stood out against your skin. He hated it. It was a reminder that you had nearly died. He had nearly lost you. His train of thought was cut off by his phone ringing, his mum's caller ID flashing across the screen.

"Hi mum" "Is she okay?" His greeting was pushed aside, his mom far too concerned about Y/N. "Yes she's alright now. She's sleeping now, Yeah I'm with her now" "Y/N's mom is with me too, I'll let her know she's okay" "Thanks mum" "Don't forget to rest as well Max" his mum said, knowing full well that her son would forget about taking care of himself when it came to his love. "I will"

And he cut the line. He looked down at you one more time, pressing his lips to your forehead, and swearing to himself that he would protect you for all his life. He let his eyes close, the exhaustion finally getting to him, all his adrenaline and energy draining out his body, and finally content that you were going to be okay, he let his eyes close.

You were going to be okay.

#f1 #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 drivers x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #max verstappen x y/n

[danielxricciardo]

Hi girl!! I love everything you’ve wrote! Couldn’t say how much I enjoyed reading one shots of F1 drivers! I have to ask if you could do one for Carlos? He and reader are expecting but keeping it secret, Carlos won the race! And he ask if he could hear her through radio, though with some glitch, all other drivers and teams hear Carlos’ radio, he tells her how he’s so happy with the win but more than anything about their little one on the way and now everyone knows the secret of pregnancy because he suddenly slipped it while talking to her on radio👶🏻 I can’t imagine how will other drivers will congratulate him (like Daniel, Max, Landooooo! Seb! And even Kimi!🤣) I think Lando will be overjoyed and will be presenting to be Godfather already Hahahaha!

Summary: Having a baby and everybody finding out

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1.5k

You realized that you were pregnant after a series of fortunate events that, individually, you did not take as alarm signals.

One evening, Carlos decided to spare you from cooking dinner and ordered your favorite food from your favorite restaurant. You were very excited to eat it, but when the food arrived you were on the verge of throwing up because of the smell. You told Carlos you couldn't eat, so you just ate an apple and went to bed. The next day, after Carlos left for the gym, you couldn't get away from the toilet because if you took a few steps you would feel like throwing up. However, when your boyfriend came home, you didn't feel so sick anymore, but you didn't tell him what happened to you because you didn't want to worry him.

You had a vague idea that you could be pregnant but you wanted to wait until Carlos leaves for France for the Grand Prix.

The day he left you went to the pharmacy and bought two pregnancy tests.

Positive.

You just sat down and cried. You stared at the positive test for several minutes. Honestly, you were so hormonal and conflicted about the timing that you bawled your eyes out. You were both happy and worried. Carlos was busy with his Formula 1 career, you didn't know if it was appropriate to add a child to the dynamics of your life.

But you recovered immediately. You are talking about Carlos, of course, he will be happy to have a child with you. You've been together for four years, you knew you would be together for the rest of your life.

The next day you did another pregnancy test, just in case. Positive, obviously. You went to the pharmacy again, and you took four more tests, to do one every day until Carlos came home.

"Hey, honey. I missed you," says Carlos entering the house.

You didn't even let him take off his shoes. You handed him a gift box in which you put the six pregnancy tests you took.

"Amor, did I forget an anniversary?"

You nod.

"Open it."

You see him take the lid off the box and take out a pregnancy test. Then another one, and another one, until he took them all out. You could see it on his face, he was scared and overwhelmed.

"Seriously?" he asks.

You nod and bite your lip, a few tears run down your face.

"Amor, that's wonderful! Ay Dios Mio! Are we going to be parents?"

You laugh and kiss him long.

"Yes, we will be parents."

You have scheduled an appointment for the next day to confirm the pregnancy and determine how many weeks you are pregnant. It looks like you're 10 weeks pregnant, so that means month 3 of your pregnancy. You couldn't believe that for almost 3 months you didn't realize you were pregnant, but you always had an irregular cycle, so it's not really incomprehensible.

You and Carlos have decided not to announce publicly that you will have a child just yet. For now, you were happy to share the news with your families, wanting to plan a nice way to tell your friends as well.

You know that feeling you get at certain times of the month when you want to cry at every cheesy commercial or could explode with anger at the drop of a hat? Pregnancy is like that sometimes, except 10 times more intense. With your new hormones raging, and more stress in your life than ever before, what with getting a nursery together and preparing to welcome the precious baby into the world and all, emotions are high. Tempers are bound to flare.

That is how you felt sitting in the paddock with Carlos who was preparing for the race. He was starting from P3 so he was pretty excited and nervous for the race. He saw your state, he knew you too well.

"Ay, mi Amor, come here," he said and hugged you to calm your nerves. "Don't worry, ok? It's an easy race, I'm gonna win it for you and the little bean, ok?"

You giggle at the sound of Carlos's nickname for the baby. You kiss him and smile.

"You know I don't really care about winning. Just come back to us. Safe." you say, your voice barely a whisper, not wanting anyone around you to hear your discussion.

"Si, pequeña. Always."

Sure, you were always concerned when he was racing. But especially now when your hormones were driving you insane and you were growing another person in your body. But you trusted him. With all of your heart. If he said he will come back to you, he will.

It took you a few moments to understand what was happening. Carlos Oñoro was hugging you, yelling 'He won!' and you looked at the screens in front of you. He did. Carlos Sainz was the winner in Monza! He kept his word, he won for you and your child.

"Hey, Y/N!" you hear your name being called by Riccardo Adami, the race engineer of Carlos. "The winner wants to talk to you."

You giggle and go to him. 'The winner'... Has a nice ring to it.

"Hey, baby! Congratulations!" you say excitedly over the radio.

"Si, mi amor! I told you I'm gonna win for our baby! I love you both so much!"

What you didn't know was that there was a glitch over the radio and every driver heard Carlos talking about 'your baby'.

"Aaa, guys? Why am I hearing Carlos over the radio talking about a baby?" Charles asked his race engineer.

"There's a glitch. Come to the garage."

"A baby?!" Lando yells into the radio, making his race engineer flinch. "Was that Carlos saying he is going to have a baby? Oh my God!"

You were waiting for Carlos to come out of his car, being absolutely clueless about the hysteria you two just caused. Carlos was just about to get his helmet out when all the drivers came to you two, yelling congratulations to you both. You looked at Carlos. Did he tell someone about your pregnancy? Did you give it away?

"Uh, thank you but how did you find out?" Carlos asked, clueless as you.

"We heard it over the radio," Kimi responds giving you a genuine smile.

"This is not how I wanted you guys to find out," Carlos said and put an arm over your shoulders, kissing your head. "But, yeah, it is true, we are having a baby."

"Mate, you're having a baby! That is so crazy! You are basically a baby!" Daniel says and hugged you both.

"And who is the godfather?" Lando asked and everyone laughed.

"We just found out two weeks ago, there are still five months to think about it," you say and bit your lip and Lando pouts. "You'll be considered, Lando."

After three months you decided to have a gender reveal for your family and friends. You could have had it a lot sooner but you wanted to be at an appropriate time for everyone. All the drivers came, as well as your family and Carlos's too. You made everyone wear a piece of clothing according to the gender they think your baby is. You were surprised to see the majority of the people being team boy, but as Lewis said 'They just want to make sure the third generations of Sainz is coming in Formula 1' and you know he was right.

"Look, listen to me, I have three kids, ok? I know, for a fact, by the way you are carrying that it is a girl!" Sebastian said and you laughed. He was wearing his pink T-shirt with pride, being 100% sure he is right.

He was.

You were having a girl and you could swear that Carlos cried a little when he saw the pink confetti. He hugged you for a few minutes, being still in shock.

"Una niña pequeña..." he whispered in your ear. "I am not ready."

You laughed and kissed him.

"You are gonna be the best dad ever, don't worry."

"No, I know that. I am not ready for her to date! And she'll go to university, no..."

"Carlos, she is not even been born yet! You have plenty of time to spend with her."

"Hi, guys, sorry to interrupt!" Lando appears near the two of you, making you break apart from your hug. "Did you think about the godfather or... or this is not a good time to ask?"

Everyone heard him and started laughing.

"Mate, remember the bag I gave you when you arrived?" Carlos asked him and Lando nodded. "You can look inside the bag now."

Lando got the bag and inside was a white romper saying 'Will you be my godfather?'

Lando looked at the romper with tears in his eyes.

"Well, if you insist..."

#carlos sainz jr oneshot #carlos sainz #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz one shot #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #formula 1 oneshot #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 2021 #f1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | Part five

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: pregnancy, chronic illness, spencer's career chance - he's a high school teacher now, they have a 1-year-old, smut at the end but not graphic.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: I imagine this is in season 10, so they've been together at least 7 years-ish now, I just jumped well into the future because I wanted to! also, Cordelia's nickname is Edie and pronounced Ee-dee !!

P1 P2 P3 P4

“No.”

Spencer sighs, “are you going to like any of my suggestions?”

“When you give me a baby name that isn’t from some weird old male book character, then yes, I’ll take them into consideration,” she replies, hand on her stomach as she lays back against the pillows.

She was huge, 9 months pregnant and so, so close to the finish line. She was swollen and in pain and exhausted. Going off every single medication and recreational drugs to make a life was a commitment and a half, she was doing well but she was so ready to be done. To do a few more months of breastfeeding and then go back on her medications.

Spencer was terrific. He was googling and asking Penelope to research things, he had called doctors he knows and friends and did everything in his power to find a way to ease her pain even before they got pregnant. He’s taken the last 3 months off of work and he doesn’t know when he’ll go back. He has just been so, so incredible the whole time.

Naming a child was hard. You had to not only think about all the nicknames and what their initials spell, but you also had to think about how they’ll like it; if it’ll fit their personality and spirit. And most of all, is it going to get them bullied? There are some terrible kid names. Like Richard… how do you name a newborn Richard?

“I want something meaningful with a nice nickname and works with our names and her siblings,” she whispered towards him. “They need to all work together.”

“What are some of your favourites?” He asks, moving in closer and finding a way to cuddle in with her and her pregnancy pillow who has all but replaced him lately.

“I like earthy names, like Lennox, Juniper, Aspen, Elowen,” her voice is really soft, she bites her lip at the end as she thinks them over again. “And old things like Cordelia and Winnifred.”

“Which one sounds the best with Reid?”

“I like Cordelia Reid the most, and then we can call her Edie and I was thinking you can pick her middle name?” She’s been thinking about it for a while, but too afraid to know his opinions.

“Cordelia means core in Latin, which makes sense cause she already has my heart,” Spencer teased, he has made it very clear that their little girl is going to be spoiled, loved and a daddy's girl.

He took all his fears of being a bad dad and threw them out the window. He knew that just being there was all he wanted from his dad, and so that’s what he was going to do. He left the BAU for the time being, he was doing the odd lecture at the academy and answering calls for cases. They couldn’t just stop using his brain, there were some things too pressing to not ask the walking computer, but other than that, he was done.

He was looking into other jobs for when he finally decides to go back, he was unsure how long of a paternity leave he wanted. He was really content with just staying home all the time now, but he did miss going out and being useful during the days. The job he was most interested in, however, was a high school teacher.

A prep school in DC is looking into adding an Anthropology, Psychology and Sociology course to their curriculum, and they wanted Spencer. They thought he would be perfect for the seniors, he is fun and young and attentive, he can control a room and keep them entertained, and he’s probably the best teacher a kid could get.

It was going to make him a good dad too.

“I think Jade is a nice middle name,” he adds after thinking it over for a few minutes.

“Cordelia Jade Reid,” she says the full name for the first time and it just feels right, like they already know her.

—

She was very calm for a newborn baby.

She liked to just look around and blink, she licked her lips a lot and she was constantly breaking out of her swaddle. She was always happy to have cuddles with her dad and she pooped every night at exactly at 3 am, without fail. She didn’t cry a lot, but when she did it was still wonderful to hear.

They were so in love with her, she was absolutely perfect for them. She fit right into their sleeping schedule and their life, she ate like a pro, she slept most of the night and she was growing way too fast for their liking.

One day they’re crying over the fact they made a life in a tiny little hospital room, and the next thing they know she’s about to turn 1.

She’s sitting in bed with Y/N, she’s sitting in her lap with two handfuls of hair and a story to tell. She’s been babbling so much lately, she hears them talking all the time and she wants to join so badly. They indulge her, asking her to continue her thoughts and gasping at her gossip.

“No way, and what did you do next?!” She asked the little one sat in her lap.

Edie babbled on once more, smacking her tongue on the roof of her mouth as she pushed air past her vocal cords, humming and making the funniest sounds. She went on and on, she was so enthusiastic, like her father, as she waved her arms around to make her point.

“That is so fascinating, you are so cool, little Edie,” Y/N hyped her up, smiling at her as she leaned in close and pressed their noses together.

Cordelia laughed and it finally made Spencer giggle too, he had been watching from the doorway as his ‘wife’ and daughter talked in bed. They were best friends already, always talking and snuggling, learning or reading together. She was always happy when she was with one of them, she was needy and snuggly and very co-dependent but they didn’t mind, they preferred all the attention from her.

“Look who’s home,” Y/N whispered and Cordelia shot a glance towards the door, she smiled and screamed as she saw him.

“Hi Edie!” He waves at her with a smile, he takes his bag off and places it by the dresser followed by his blazer.

He gets into the bed and she instinctively reaches for a hug. He wraps her up and she snuggles right into his neck, with a fistful of his shirt, she just holds him there. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t home all day anymore, she missed him for lunch and at nap time but she loved the new routine of a snuggle when she woke up and he got home.

Spencer leans back against the pillows beside Y/N, turning his head to capture a kiss from her lips. They always just spend a quick second kissing when he gets home, even if it’s just a peck or a full-on passionate make-out, he always kisses her when he comes home. He smiles at the end of the kiss, pulling her into a hug too.

“I love Fridays,” he whispers, “Edie do you know what Fridays mean?”

She pulls away and sits up, she loves to listen to him. “Friday is the last day of the school week, which means I get to spend 2 whole days with my favourite people now.”

Edie smiled, almost like she understood what he meant, and then she was talking again, it was completely incomprehensible but they imagined she was telling him about her day.

“You forgot the part where we went to the park,” Y/N added.

Cordelia looked at her with wide eyes, “dada,” was the only word she said before babbling on again and they both stopped.

“Did she just?” Spencer was shocked and frozen still after asking.

Y/N sat up and looked right into Cordelia’s eyes, “who is that?” She pointed at Spencer.

“Dada!” She said it again and they were suddenly all squealing, even Cordelia was suddenly excited as she kept screaming dada over and over again.

“Can you say, mom? Or mama? Mummy?” Spencer tried his hardest to find an easy way for her to say it.

“Mumm,” she pushed her lips together to hum her M sound and Spencer was floored, he bounced her up and down a small amount as they cheered.

“Smartest girl in the world!” Spencer cheered her on before pulling her into another hug.

Y/N was crying softly, little tiny dreams that she didn’t even know she had were coming true every single day with them. She knew she wanted to be a mom when she was growing up, all those dreams died when her illness got worse and they all warned her that having kids would put her at risk of being moneyless and that working wasn’t an option to even support them. Let alone the threat of them taking them away just because of her autism or depression possibly being considered ‘too bad’ to care for them.

Spencer took all those fears and he kicked them out. Every day she got to experience the most precious gifts the world had to offer, her daughter was perfect and her husband was incredible. Together they were a perfect little family that ran on trust, love, and communication. Always talking, always hugging, always there for each other.

—

They crawl into bed much later than they expected to. Cordelia didn’t want to go to bed, she was trying her hardest to keep staying awake to spend time with them but eventually, sleep won. They finally placed her in her crib with her white noise and her complete darkness and closed her door for the next few hours of peace.

They both let out a deep sigh before rolling to face one another. “How was your day?” He asks, like always.

“Good,” she smiles, “I think having a kid and getting on her schedule was the best thing I’ve ever done actually, cause I’m sleeping on time, I’m eating when she does and I’m outside a lot more. She’s given me this purpose and it’s rewarding on my body.”

Spencer moves in so he can kiss her nose, “I love hearing that.”

“How was your class today?” She asks back, loving his little stories about all the 17 and 18-year-olds that were fascinated by him. As well as the kids who thought it was cool to try and pick on him before getting the shit verbally kicked out of them in front of the whole class.

It was interesting seeing him in a form of authority, he never really took charge at the BAU, she’s never seen him yell at his friends and he’s never really yelled at her either. He’s been incredibly calm, so to see him verbally tear someone apart by acknowledging their biggest flaws to make sense of why they feel the need to bully, it was pretty intense.

“They were a lot better today, they enjoyed the lesson and the kids that were giving me trouble skipped, I guess he really didn’t appreciate me calling him out that bad on Tuesday,” Spencer smirked, rolling his eyes like he cared.

“I still can’t believe that he thought it was okay to call you names in front of other students, where is the respect these days?”

“Well,” he’s about to do what he always does. He can never be truly mad at someone because he knows why everyone does what they do and that they can’t help it. “In his file, it says his parents are newly divorced, we get a list of all the kids information on the attendance like allergies and things, but also small info like life changes in case they act out.”

“Doesn’t mean he can call you the f slur,” she whispers, “all because you wore a purple shirt?”

“If I met his father I’d probably get an answer for that,” he adds, “if he’s afraid to show his emotions around his son, it’s probably why his son thinks colours are gay.”

It makes her laugh, “you look hot in purple too so I don’t see the problem?”

“Do I?” He teases, getting in even closer and pressing their bodies together.

She rolls her eyes before wrapping her arms around him and leaning forward for a quick kiss, “I think you look sexy all the time.”

He kisses her as a thank you, “I think the same about you.”

“Even when I haven’t showered in 2 days because she cries if she can’t see me and she cries if she gets wet?” Y/N laughed, annoyed but in love with their little monster at the same time.

“Always,” he reminds her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she kisses him again after.

There are probably a million more things to share from the day, but they spend their time kissing instead. It’s been too long since they’ve just rolled around in the sheets making out like they did in the beginning. Before they ever had sex, before they had kids and a house and a love as strong as they do now.

A part of them missed the early days when everything was new and exciting, but she also loved the fact that they knew each other so well that they didn’t have to communicate anymore. They ran like 1 unit, always completing the other person's thoughts, needs and wants. They were so unbelievably happy.

She wants him badly and he wants her just as much, and he’s about to take her when she pulls back. “Nope, as much as I love her I can’t get pregnant again for at least another year.”

It makes him laugh as he pulls away and rolls over to look through his nightstand for a condom, “it wouldn’t be that bad?”

“You carry it then, seahorse it up,” she teased. “I like being back on my medicine, I need some time to be okay before I go through all that again.”

Once he’s all situated in the latex and back between her legs, he hovers over her, so close that their lips are touching ever so slightly. “I am fine if it’s just the three of us forever.”

“I’m not,” she smiles, “there will be 4 of us one day, just not today.”

With that, she’s pulling him into another kiss as he pushing inside. It’s a feeling she’s accustomed to but will never be used to, it’s a stretch that shouldn’t be as intoxicating as it is. She holds him closer as she plays with his tongue in her mouth.

He was so good at everything he did, especially the sex. He knew every single part of her body now and exactly how to push all her buttons the right way. She could live in the moment of his pumping in and out of her while his thumb circled her clit and his other hand groaned her breasts. Eventually, he kissed down her throat and she was a mess of breathy moans and low gasps.

Writing in the sheets, her legs wrap around him as she tried to pull him in even closer. It was impossible to get closer but he was still too far away, she wanted to absorb him and live in him forever. He was her safe place and she never wanted to be anywhere else.

As her orgasm bubbled, so did his. The both of them gasping and panting, she whined as she breached the edge and gripped his back, “Spence!”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered before fucking into her harder and faster, pushing her through it as he reached his own.

His movements on her clit never stopped and suddenly one felt like two and she wasn’t sure when the rush was going to stop and she didn’t care when it did. It was powerful, soothing and euphoric. A high she could live in for a while and return to it without problem as long as she had him.

He came with a small moan, trying to keep quiet as he muffled it into her neck, stilling his hips on his last thrust and dropping onto her more. Her hands were all over his back as she pressed kisses to his forehead, coming down but not wanting the love to stop there.

The love was never going to stop there for them. Their love was never-ending, and somehow as she held him there in her arms and felt his breath on his neck, she turned to see the baby monitor with their peaceful child sound asleep down the hall, she loved him even more now somehow.

Loving Spencer Reid was like falling down a bottomless pit. She never knew when she was going to reach the end, but she was content with falling.

smut taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aint it fun

[sopafa]

Paraplegic Douxie! P3

Previous part / Next one

Douxie started drowning.

It was past lunchtime and Archie was alone in the room without a soul around to do something. He familiar was down asleep when he felt it, the body on where he was resting started moving and some gags were produced by his human troat. Archibald woke immediately, and the horror surrounded him when he saw Douxie, with his eyes still closed drowning in front of your eyes.

Some muscular spams moved his abdomen, and the tube inside his mouth made difficult his breathing. Archie didn't think it twice and punched the bottom of the wall to call for assistance, the dragon did everything to stay calm while his familiar couldn't breathe, and with some tears in his eyes, he screamed with all the force of his longs to Barbara, hoping that she could do something.

It was a matter of seconds for a couple of doctors to rush into the room, that Archie barely had time to hide behind the door.

On the nurse halfway, Barbara was talking with her son and the trollhunters team about the situation. It has been four days, and yet the wizard hadn't woke. That's when he heard the commotion and turned around to see her partners running into Douxie's room. Jim saw the color drown from his mother's face and before giving him time to react, she was already running to the Wizard's habitation.

"Oh, no..." Was everything that Jim said.

====

The intubation was the worst thing that Douxie had ever experienced. He couldn't breathe, his head was spinning, and his body felt dizzy, his eyelids felt like he had a pair of weights dangling from, and then nausea.

Luckily, some good soul removed the tube from his trachea, so he was able to breathe again. The bad part is that his body had tried to expulse the tube by himself, so the accumulation of gags did their work and, before he even knew it, he was already cover in vomit.

His body retched making his abdomen hurt, but Douxie had no strength to even move his face to avoid slop more liquid over him. A pair of hands ran fast to his face to clean him right away. Douxie made his major effort to look at them, but he was so tired, that a simple hum was the only he achieved babble before starting throwing up again.

He felt miserable, he didn't want that anybody saw him like this. He felt shame, he had probably stained the person next to him with his body fluids and he wasn't even able to look at them in the eyes.

"It's okay- it's okay." A soft voice said just on his side. It was comforting and calm.

A wet towel was gently pressed on his face and began to wipe him, while more relaxing comments were spoken by that calming voice. He tried to look again, it took him a couple of minutes, and an insane amount of will, to finally open his eyes, but after a few fail tries, he finally succeeded. That hair and that eyes could only belong to one person.

Ms. Lake, he tried to pronounce, but the only thing that came out of him was a groan.

As he expected, the bedsheets and part of Ms. Lake's uniform were covered in puke, but the doctor didn't seem to care, she was still looking at him with that warm smile.

"How are you feeling?" Barbara removed some hair from his face. "You had a long surgery, and it looks that the anesthesia didn't make you feel very well".

"'R-" The wizard tried to call for his familiar.

"He's okay. He's in here, like the rest."

Douxie fought to not close his eyes.

Maybe he was exhausted, maybe it was the drugs, but he could not keep himself awake for more time.

Once the doctors were out of the room, and only the Trollhunter's mother and the familiar were in, they share a warm smile in silence. The beeps of the monitors and the numbers on the screen showed that Douxie was stable, and his heart race was normal.

"He is going to be fine." Barbara said petting the cat.

He is going to be fine.

====

"Douxie's body was rejecting the intubation" Barb explained to the team a couple of hours later.

"That's something bad?" Toby was afraid to ask, but nobody else had the courage to.

Instead of bad news, a smile grown on the woman's lips before she started talking again.

"Actually, it's completely the opposite, Tobias. When the body rejects the help of the breathing tube, is because it can do it alone, so the tube isn't helping anymore, and it's treated as an intruder. We kept the tube to compensate for the right lung collapse, Douxie's lungs needed help doing their work, but it seems that they are doing better know"

"So, he is fine now?" Steve questioned with hope.

Barbara shook his head "He is better, but he still needs time".

====

When Douxie woke up for the second time, two days after, the analgesics were almost done. The sheets of the bed, as his gown, had been changed, at least, and his low groans captured the attention of both medics that were talking in the room.

Barbara rushed to his side and took his hand. With her motherhood aura, she looked at him and asked:

"How are you feeling?".

It took a moment for to Douxie realize where he was, and still, he tried to sit up. A big mistake, because of the moment he moved, his chest ached like hell. With a low groan, he put a hand to the place that hurt while Barbara helped him to lie down.

"Easy," She said before he tried to straighten again. "You have 3 broken ribs and had a collapsed lung. You really scared the guys out there" The second doctor -a male that Douxie didn't even care to read his name- stayed on his place a few steps of the door.

Hisirdoux didn't even try to move anymore. Instead, he sighed and asked how the rest was doing. Barbara rolled her eyes before telling him "They are fine, they had already received medical assistance, no one else is hurt... bad hurt" she corrected herself, and told him that he has been asleep for almost six days.

Douxie did not know how to react.

On a hand, it was not the first time he slept for days after a fight. On the other, it was the first time that that happened to him after meeting the Guardians of Arcadia, and he hasn't had the opportunity to tell them that fact.

Douxie disconnected himself for a moment, thinking about that. Should he told the rest that it didn't matter and was a collateral effect of using a lot of his magic? Or- wait, had he used a lot of magic on the battle? He didn't remember.

Hisirdoux sank deeper into his thoughts before he realized it. It was something simple, almost imperceptible, but he tried to accommodate under the sheets. The problem was that he couldn't.

He looked at his feet.

Barbara notices that and removed her hand from Douxie's. The redhaired ma'am looked concerned to her companion, both medics shared a serious look. But Douxie didn't even realize it.

The wizard was still looking at the blanket, there was something off.

He tried to move his fingers, but nothing.

His feet, same.

Slowly the color of his face faded, and his breathing started cracking.

His hands became fists.

"Douxie..." Barbaria tried to start.

"I- I don't" Jim's mother's heartbreak with the boy's voice. "I don't feel my legs"

Hisirdoux looked at Barbara with fear and terror in his eyes, she could see his body shaking and his voice hung by a thread.

Barbara didn't knew how to told him. She was supposed to be the one that told him the truth, but at that moment, she couldn't do it. She tried to act professional, and serious, but she couldn't because in front of her eyes there were nothing more than a poor scared child with no family, holding his sobs and asking her for help, because he couldn't feel his legs.

"Hisirdoux" Dr. Velazques approached the bed. "You suffered a very complicated accident. You fell for over 100 feets, to a car's hood. On the impact, you broke 3 ribs that occasionated the lung collapse. Also, you have some other injuries caused by the same fall, like a twisted wrist, a slight concussion, and a fracture on your spinal discs."

"A fracture? So it is not broken?" Velazques nodded, a sigh of relief was expulsed by Douxie's mouth.

"Unfortunately-" The blue-haired man looked at the doctor again. "A fracture on that zone causes irremediable damage to the nervous system. Your spinal cord was compromised, and we had to make surgery to stabilize it."

"It is fine now, right?"

"After we embed metallic bars to your spine. Yeah."

"But, why I can't feel my-"

Barbara took Douxie's hand.

"I do not think that you are understanding. Hisirdoux, we can't fix the damage to the nervous system. Your legs, hips, everything from the L5-down is paralyzed. The fall had caused you something that we call Paraplegia"

"What?-" He squeezed her hand.

"Douxie-"

"Even with rehabilitation, there is no guarantee that you would be able to walk after". Hisirdoux's heart broke.

The wizard would never walk again.

#Paraplegic Douxie! Au #Douxie #douxie casperan #hisirdoux casperan #toa #toa rise of the titans #toa nari #jim lake jr #toa claire #claire nuñez #toby domzalski #3bellow #krel #toa aja #barbara toa #fanfic #angst #Sorry not sorry #I enjoy this to much #Sorry Douxie #I love you and you deserve all the world's love

[kationella]

Welcome to another episode where we tackle the lore of the Persona series. This time we have...

The Velvet Room

The Velvet Room is one if the few things that appear every Persona game. We all know the basics, so let's go deeper than that.

This place was created by Philemon as a way to help users on their journeys and give them an extra boost, so to speak. It is unknown when it was created, but with the help of facts I will mention later, we can guess it was way before P1.

It's location, like the Sea of Souls, changes constantly. However unlike the Sea, it is easier for a normal person to gain access to it. Well, as normal as a Persona user can get.

The Velvet Room has this ability to appear wherever a guest needs it. Usually in a set of different locations in the city/town where their journey takes place.

Formally, it serves as a bridge between the "human realm" and the Collective Unconscious, where the multiple pocket dimensions lie.

Due to its nature, a guest is able to visit the room in their sleep, mostly because their presence is required at the moment.

It's appearance is supposed to be a representation of the journey the current guest is going through. It's usually a mobile appearance like an elevator or a limousine.

However, if there is more than one guest at a time, it will default to a literal velvet room.

Keep in mind that a guest is not the same as a visitor. A visitor can't gain access to the room by normal means and can't use their services (It is possible for people with high spiritual sensitivity to see the door, though).

A guest is bound by a contract to complete their journey in exchange for the benefits the room entails.

What are those benefits? Game mechanics, mostly. Like managing Personas and Fusion. Ya know.

It's demon/shadow counterpart would be the Cathedral of Shadows.

To be granted entry as a guest of the Velvet Room you must either:

A) Have been granted your Persona by Philemon.

B) Own the power of the Wildcard. I will cover the Wildcards in a separate post.

The denizens of the Velvet Room can bring visitors whenever they want, though.

You can deny the contract the Velvet Room offers, though it is destined that you'll end up signing it anyways.

Despite having created the place, Philemon barely visits it. Let's talk then about the true denizens of the Velvet Room.

We can't talk about the Velvet Room without talking about Igor. He is the first face you'll see once you enter through that blue door.

Igor's creator is currently unknown. All that we know is that he started as a doll that was given life by unknown means. Like a weird Pinocchio.

He practically manages the Velvet Room, being in charge of fusions. However, Igor must always use some object in order to be able to use this ability. In P1 and P2 it was a bone telephone, while in the rest he uses a deck of cards.

This doesn't mean that Igor doesn't have personal abilities. He doesn't say it outloud, but it's obvious Igor has minor precognition. Mostly focused on his guests.

He does have full control over his retrocognitive abilities, which helps him to read the personalities of those around him based on their lifes. Not only that, but in one of the P3 dramas Igor is capable of sharing what he sees in the past with another person through a flashback of sorts.

Aside from this Igor can do minor spiritual healing, through so far we have only seen him dealing with curses.

Next in the list we have Belladonna. The singer of the Velvet Room with her masterpiece: the Aria of the Soul. Her voice is meant to enrich the soul and open your heart.

When you enter the room she will help to provide a calming sensation in the middle of your journey. Clear your mind.

But of course, the Aria of the Soul would be incomplete without Nameless, the piano player. Only he could play a song like that with his eyes covered. His role is the same as Belladonna, only he plays music instead of singing.

Nameless also has a minor job as a reminder to Igor of the costs of Personas since the old man always forgets.

Nameless mentions the following:

"That is why 90,000 and 155 nights have passed since I closed my own eyes."

If we do the math, those would be around 247 years. Persona 2, the game where he mentioned this, takes place in 1999.

With all of this information, we can say that Nameless has been playing his role since 1752. A probable date of origin? Who knows.

Both Belladonna and Nameless can sense the current status of the collective souls of humanity through their music.

Let's talk now about the Demon Painter. His most notable characteristic is that he is the only confirmed denizen to have been a human before, having lived in Sumaru City before his employment. Apparently his painting skills were so exceptional that he was offered immortality and a chance to reside in the Velvet Room. The Demon Painter skills actually remind me of Yusuke, so there's some food for thought.

The Demon Painter claims it has been decades since he became immortal. This would make the date of his employment between 1909 and 1979.

Belladonna and Nameless have been confirmed to still live in the Velvet Room (how big is it, anyways?) but nothing has been said of the Demon Painter.

Now we move onto the attendants. So far we have Margaret, Elizabeth, Theodore and Lavenza. Each attendant aids one guest at a time, making exceptions when it comes to their guest's party.

Only Lavenza has shown the ability to transform into a blue butterfly, so we can assume the others can do it too.

None of the attendants are human and have no knowledge of humans themselves. This leaves the possibility that they were created recently for the Persona protags in the open. How come Elizabeth hadn't tried to explore the human world before on her own?

Talking of Elizabeth, she's currently the only attendant that has basically abandonded her job to roam the human realm and search for a way to free Minato from the Great Seal. This may apply to Theodore on a minor scale with Minako.

From what we have been told, it is possible for Elizabeth to gain her own contract to start her own journey.

One last curious thing is that apparently the room uses a lot of spiritual energy to just exist. This is why a spiritual being must be constantly "powering" it so it works correctly. This being is usually Igor, explaining why whenever he isn't there, the room starts to malfunction.

As of the latest games it seems that the velvet siblings have learned how to control it without Igor's help.

Since it was inspired from a story from Edgar Allan Poe, I'll headcanon that he was a Persona user and you can't change my mind.

Questions I don't have the answers to:

- Where did the Velvet Room denizens come from?

- Did Philemon sense when Yaldabaoth took over the room?

- What happened to the Demon Painter?

- What will happen once Elizabeth completes her journey?

- What does the contract say exactly?

- Do you offer your services to the Velvet Room or are you recruited?

- Since Tamaki uses shadows instead of Personas, would she go to the Cathedral of Shadows instead?

- Where were the rest of the denizens when Yaldabaoth took over?

#persona 1 #persona 2 #persona 4 #persona 5 #persona 3 #analysis #lore #meta #philemon #igor #belladonna #nameless #margaret #elizabeth #theodore #lavenza #demon painter

[sunsetinmyvein]

You Pick a Fight - P3

I have long since forgotten what prompts from the prompt list that we used for this, but as requested by @imagine-that-100​, the third and final part of You Pick a Fight. Enjoy!

True to his word, Matty absolutely did give me hell for everything I had said and done while in hospital. Word spread pretty fast in our circle of friends about how soft I had remarked his hair was, much to my dismay. But my thumb survived, and that was the main concern. I could tolerate the berating for the sake of still having all of my digits. And to be fair, Matty was very helpful in hospital that day, as much as he didn’t tell anyone else about that half of the story. A part of my anaesthesia haze ramblings stayed with me even past that hectic evening. I suddenly felt like I gave that man too much grief throughout our friendship, maybe a few of my pranks were edging on too mean. Not that I was going to give up entirely on that side of our friendship, but I definitely had a feeling that it was time to pull back from how intense they had been becoming.  When every interaction between us wasn’t laced with sarcasm and spent looking over your shoulder for what could be coming next, spending time with Matty was actually… fairly pleasant? I found myself actually wanting to be around him.

“Mattyyyy.” I spoke into my phone as I propped it up between my shoulder and my ear.

“Yes?” His voice crackled back down the line.

“I need to ask you a favour.” I started. At this point, Matty was no stranger to my random phone calls for help. I mean, come on, he was rolling in it and had connections everywhere, I wasn’t just going to let that go to waste.

“Mm?”

“My high school reunion is coming up…” I stared at the invitation stuck to my fridge.

“And?” He prompted.

“And it would feel extremely vindicating to have a nice date to rub in everyone’s faces.” I finally suggested. Making this call wasn’t easy, I didn’t like the connotations that came with asking this. But, I did really like the connotations that came with rocking up with Matthew Healy in tow. And if I had to go, I wanted to have some fun with it.

  There was a pause, and I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me at first. “Ooo, I’m not sure.” He eventually said, sounding like he was thinking on it. “But I can see why you’d ask.” He added.

“What?” I frowned in confusion, not that he could see my expression anyway.

“I mean, why wouldn’t you want to be seen with someone as drop dead gorgeous as me?” He said. I gave a snort of laughter in response, but he didn’t continue any further.

I let out a deep sigh, then said the thing I knew would get him to go, “There’s an open bar.”

“I’ll be there.” He replied instantly.

“Great. Thanks.” I nodded.

“My pleasure.” I could just see his shit eating grin through the phone. Hopefully this idea didn’t backfire on me.

  * * *

  After a few weeks, the fateful evening rolled around. As promised, Matty drove round to my place, dressed very smartly in a nice button down. Which, after the crocs getup I’d seen him in literally the day prior, this was a vast improvement. But I couldn’t help but notice the bags under his eyes, and the way his eyelids drooped.

“Are… are you feeling okay?” I asked apprehensively as I let him in.

“Huh?” He seemed pretty out of it.

“How long has it been since you’ve sleep?” I asked with a short laugh.

“A week?” He answered, seeming entirely serious about his answer.

“Jesus, Matty. Why? What’s keeping you up?” I asked in concern, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Erm… Album stuff, you know.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Are you sure you’re good to go to this thing?” He looked in no state to be on a night out. But as soon as I questioned his ability to attend, he perked up.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He nodded quickly, running a hand through his messy curls. As much as he’d dressed up, it seemed that there was no controlling that hair of his. “C’mon, let’s go.” He said as he gestured back to the door.

  We ordered an Uber, neither of us wanting to commit to being the designated driver and passing up on the free booze. Once we had clambered inside, I laid down a few ground rules about what to tell people if they asked. All the stuff about how we met, why we got together, the things that we had to make sure to agree on to get our story straight and seem believable.

“All right, so I’d appreciate if you tried to be a bit more tactful than usual.” I ended my spiel, giving him a serious look.

“Be as embarrassing as possible, got it.” He said with a firm nod.

“Can you please just listen to me for once?” I said as I rolled my eyes.

“Or-” He said, pointing a finger at me for emphasis, “I could not listen to you, and we could pull many fantastic pranks at this stuffy party.” He suggested.

I thought on this for a moment. “What did you have in mind?” I asked with an eyebrow raised.

“We can raise hell together - spike the punch, spread rumours, heckle the speeches, that sort of thing.” He elaborated with a devious smile.

The offer was tempting, but then I remembered that I was meant to be making a good impression. “No, no. I just… would rather be quietly impressive instead of causing a scene like we usually do.” I said, tearing my gaze away from him and looking back out the window.

“Whatever you say.”

  When we rocked up at my old high school, it probably shouldn’t have surprised me that everything looked exactly the same as what it did when I was a student. The buildings were a slight bit more run down, the signs were starting to wear away, it was nostalgic in a very uncomfortable way. We followed the small arrows staked in the ground, making our way through the school to where the reunion was being held. As we approached the doors, Matty stopped me, looping his arm with mine with a smile before walking in. The gesture instantly reminded me of why I had been worried about asking him to come as my faux date. Other than him getting the wrong idea, I didn’t want to dredge up any repressed feelings since that day in the hospital a few months ago. This thought was quickly squashed once we stepped into the room and had the tacky decorations shoved right into our faces. I had no idea what theme they were trying to achieve, but if it was ‘awkward high school disco’ they had successfully done it. However, I was pretty chuffed with the stares that we were getting as we walked through the room. By the look of the whispers that I saw being passed around, clearly Matty was recognised. Most of the people I had spotted I didn’t overly want to talk to, so I was glad to have brought a plus one that I could hang out with to avoid stifled pleasantries with people I’d not seen in over a decade.

  “Why is there a deer in the room?” Matty whispered in my ear as he gestured to the large buck that was sectioned off in the corner.

“School mascot.” I answered.

“What?” He asked with a frown.

“The football team, they’re called the bucks or something.” I explained, pointing out a banner on the wall with the cartoon version of the animal.

“So… they have a deer? A real live deer?” He continued with an incredulous laugh.

“Yep.” I nodded.

“Let’s go tie shit on its antlers.” He said eagerly, attempting to drag me towards the animal.

“No.” I quickly hissed, pulling him back towards the bar. “Let’s go get a drink.” I offered instead.

  With a drink in hand, Matty was much easier to keep under control. We drifted around to a few conversations, dropping stories of accomplishments and various other brag worthy things. After about half an hour, though, he started to get restless.

“Hey, where’s the woodshop?” He asked quietly as his eyes darted around the room.

“Why do you want to know?” I asked back, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

“No reason.” He said with a shrug. “What about the art room?” He questioned with a smile playing on his lips.

“What are you scheming?” I accused.

“Nothing!” He threw his hands up in defence. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then get another drink. You want one?” He asked.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to work out what idea was turning over in that head of his. “Sure.” I conceded, watching as he strolled off.

  I was apprehensive about letting him wander off alone, what with his track record. But I had no reason to stop him. Once left to my own devices, I had to begrudgingly start conversations with my old classmates alone. I didn’t realise how much I missed having Matty to bounce off of in conversation until he wasn’t there. The time ticked by, and he still hadn’t returned. When I finally felt the need to go looking for Matty in case he got lost, I spotted him on the other side of the room sparking up conversation with a group of people. He looked very animated in whatever story he was telling, and then I saw him gesture to his thumb. Oh, no.

“Whatever he’s saying, he’s lying!” I called out, interrupting the person who had been speaking to me. Matty, clearly hearing my voice, looked up and waved with a smirk.

“Why did you even come with him if you were worried about his behaviour?” The guy I was speaking to huffed.

“I’m starting to forget.” I muttered, making my way through the crowd to work out what on earth he was saying. When I made my way to the small crowd that had formed around him, he was indeed telling the story about how I’d nearly cut off my thumb. However, he was telling it in a way I hadn’t heard before. He was embellishing the details about how helpful he was, about how happy I’d been to see him when I woke up, instead of his usual speech about how embarrassing it was for me. It felt pretty heart-warming to actually hear him acknowledge the other side of that night.

“That’s so sweet of you!” One of the girls from my English class cooed.

“She’s worth it.” Matty replied as he planted a kiss on my cheek. I instantly felt myself burning up, before plastering a smile on my face to try and keep up the charade I had concocted.

  When I finally pried him away from his crowd, we went to go get another drink. What was the point of an open bar if you didn’t take advantage of it?

“You really think I’d throw you under the bus in front of your own classmates?” He asked as he nudged me in the ribs playfully.

“I just never know with you sometimes.” I chuckled as I grabbed a bottle of cider. “Are you feeling better, then?” I added, noting his much more jovial appearance than when I first saw him today.

“Hm?” He questioned as he took a swig from his drink.

“You looked pretty sleep deprived when you rocked up at mine earlier today.” I clarified.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Much better.” He nodded, glancing down at his dress shoes.

“What’s been keeping you up?” I asked in curiosity, starting to walk back over to the centre of the room.

“Well, if I’m honest-”

“All right everyone, take your seats.” A voice interrupted over the loud speakers.

  Right, the speeches. People who had been notable in high school had been asked if they wanted to stand up and tell people all about where they were at now. Thank fuck I hadn’t been picked for that. We began shuffling over to the lined-up seats at the front of the room near the stage, Matty and I happily taking a spot near the back. As the speakers went to sit down in their chairs on the stage, all of the legs collapsed beneath them, sending the six people up there sprawling onto the wooden floor. A few quiet laughs came from the crowd. But I recognised that handiwork.

“Did you do that?” I asked, turning to Matty.

“I have no idea why you’d suspect me.” He answered, clearly trying (and failing) not to smile.

“Is that why you were asking about the woodshop?” I realised, my voice growing in volume slightly as it clicked in my head. Someone shushed me from the row behind us.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak dumbass.” He shrugged.

“Real mature.” I mumbled, turning back to the stage to see them bringing new chairs over. He just wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side.

  After that, the speeches continued without a hitch. I had to admit, at least Matty’s antics had brought some fun to the dull event. Because besides the chairs collapsing, the hour-long spectacle nearly put me to sleep. Once they’d finished up, they began playing the music a bit louder than what they had been and packed the chairs in front of the stage away, encouraging people to use it as a dancefloor.

“Do you have any idea on how frustrating you can really be?” I frowned as we made our way over to the corner of the room to speak without people overhearing us. “You could’ve hurt someone.”

“Come ooooon.” He said, rolling his eyes. “You know you want to make this place a bit livelier. You’re never gonna see these people again, right?” He continued, leaning against a rail.

“Right.” I agreed.

“So, let’s have some fun.” He grinned. “You know we make a good team.”

I thought about it for a moment, and he had a point. This event was pretty boring, and we were a good team. Matty had been going out of his way tonight to do what I had asked of him, the least I could do was let him get some enjoyment too. “Fine.” I agreed. Watching as the large buck began chewing on Matty’s arm. “You might wanna keep an eye on your jacket, though.” I said as I gestured to the animal.

“Huh? Oh, wha- Hey!” He shouted as he yanked his sleeve out of the deer’s mouth.

  Once he had been given permission, Matty kicked into full prank mode. Shoelaces were tired together under tables, lettering on signs were rearranged, jackets and hats mysteriously changed tables. Most of what he wanted to do was harmless fun, and it was entertaining to watch him dart around the room and work his magic. Tonight was actually turning out to be pretty fun. I had thought that maybe Matty might feel awkward about it, or maybe I’d feel awkward about it, but things were going really well. It was nice to get the chance to have an evening with just him. Normally it was a group of us and I always felt mildly attention seeking for taking up his time. To have his undivided attention for the whole night left me with a warm feeling. Matty eventually wore himself out, and guests were beginning to get suspicious of the guy who seemed to constantly be in the background of every minor inconvenience. When he seemed satiated prank wise, he managed to con me into getting onto the dancefloor with him. Normally I’d be pretty intimidated about dancing in front of such a judging crowd, but between the good company and the many drinks I’d had, I didn’t really care.

  Suddenly, a bunch of glitter starting spewing out through the vents onto the dance floor. The music stopped, drawing everyone’s attention up to the sparkly downfall. To be honest, this looked far better than any theming the school had done themselves. But I knew this was not something that they had planned.

“I admit, this is pretty impressive.” I said quietly to Matty, who just had a very proud smile.

“See? I told you that we should raise hell.” He laughed loudly.

“I guess it was pretty fun.” I confessed.

“You should really listen to me more.” He said softly, taking my hand in his. I watched the glitter fall for a moment, before looking back down to see him still staring at me. I frowned at him, waiting for him to say something. “You have the cutest smile I’ve ever seen right now.”

“You’re looking pretty starry-eyed yourself there, mister.” I shot back, figuring that he was joking.

“Well, it’s hard not to be when you’ve got the best date in the room.” He added, tugging on my hand, pulling me closer to him.

“Wasn’t that meant to be my plan?” I said with a chuckle.

“After speaking to your classmates, I’m pretty sure you got it backwards.” He answered as I placed a hand on his shoulder.

  A moment or two passed before Matty took in a deep breath. “I was up all week because I was worried about ruining this for you.” He blurted out. “I didn’t want to be a disappointment.”

“You’d never disappoint me.” I dismissed.

“Things are always more daunting when you’re doing them with someone that you’re into, you know.” He explained.

“I… you… what?” In my surprise, I couldn’t get my words out right. Had he not been kidding for the last five minutes with everything that he was saying? A lot of moments over the last six months suddenly made a lot more sense.

“You’re not getting me to say it twice.” He said with a small smile.

“How long?” Was all I could manage to ask.

“For ages.” He said simply. “Why do you think I stayed with you in the hospital? Why do you think I spend so much time with you? Why do you think I bother you so much? You think that it’s me who’s teasing you to the guys, but it’s them teasing me about you.” He answered.

  Everything that I had felt in the hospital was now in the forefront of my mind. Maybe I hadn’t been so crazy to want to flirt with Matty then. Certainly, in this moment, his confession had my heart rate picking up and my mind reeling. “Then what was with all the pranks?” I said, shoving his shoulder slightly.

“Kept your attention, didn’t it?” He chuckled.

“I suppose so.” I agreed. “I think I’m into you too.” I said quietly.

“I know.” He nodded.

“What?”

“You told me so when you first woke up in hospital. You slept for a few hours after that, though.” He elaborated. “You don’t remember?”

I shook my head, but for what I did remember, if I had said that, it made sense. “So… is this a real date then?” I asked out of curiosity.

“It can be.” He shrugged.

“I’d like that.” I smiled, leaning up slightly to catch him off guard and kiss him briefly. “But first, we’d better get out of here before they realise what you did.”

Part One

Part Two

#Matthew Healy x Reader #Matty Healy x Reader #sunsetinmyvein #Sunsetinmyvein prompts #Sunsetinmyvein requests

[afterthelastreset]

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch19 Date P3

(mak belongs to @wasted-church)

He barely remembered the rest of that night, it was just a blur of Jevil smothering him in love and affection until the Rudinn left and hadn't stopped even when the loon noticed he did. But he eventually stopped and giggled at how flustered and embarrassed the worm was, too angry to sputter anything out other than "WORM!", making him laugh more. Thankfully he did leave, but not before giving a sly wink to the already melting man. Oh! How he was going to scold him a new one when he showed up tomorrow...

Except. He didn't show up the next day.

Rouxls had woken up from another dreamless slumber, odd he's been having those a lot lately, without the banging on his door, or the shaking him awake, or the shock of someone coming in while he was sleeping. But considering Jevil could teleport and Seam could teleport furniture it wouldn't stop either of them most likely, and especially liked to point out cruel loopholes of his logic that had nothing to do with the rules. But at least his lock was fixed so intruders no longer stole anything from his home. Thank goodness. But it didn't explain the silence he felt when he woke up and found no one there, he found it a relief but also strange. So he went through his usual morning routine of his morning beauty process, and opened up his shop for business. Flipping the sign open and unlocking the newly installed lock with a satisfying click. He was sure the moment he sat down behind the counter, that Jevil or Seam would stroll through the door any minute now that the shoppe was open.....But none came. The silence was a refreshing change of pace for him at least, but he looked over his shoulder every so often out of habit. But there was no yellow eyed smile there, which was odd. He tried busying himself with small things around the shoppe. Shifting through the two giant bins of 'darke candy', and shifting about any other small items he thought looked out of place-.....And suddenly noticing that some of his diamonds and other precious stones were missing from the display case under the counter. He scowled and made a mental note of asking Seam about it later.

But absolutely no one came in today.

...Ok. Not a big deal. Jevil was probably busy with his job back and Seam had a shop and child of his own to take care of. But he naturally couldn't help but be a bit suspicious and paranoid about this, old habits. The next day-...Haled the same results. He woke up without any other spooks and all alone like the night before....Ok. This was alright. He felt more curious than paranoid this time but his suspicions never went away. After a few silent hours of just sitting there in anticipation waiting for something to happen, he threw his hands up in defeat and stood from his comfy stool. In just a few moments, he was already flipping the closed sign in the window and marching his way down the path towards the Sheap just down the road. It's not like he was being over anxious or anything- He just happened to remember he still needed to return Seam's old burlap sack, yeah. That was it.

The old doll was waiting for him when he walked in. His already tired and smile became just a bit wider upon seeing the figure of the Worm duke peel back the flap door and stick his confused face in. "Welcome, Duke. What brings you to my humble home today?"

The worm gave a quick glance around the sheap and tilted sideways to glance around the cat and into his room in the back, just to see no one. His eyes blinked back to the ever patient cat who was smiling at him. "I..uh...*Ahem*" He straightened up and held a hand out holding the old sack. "I have cometh to return thine satchel. I-I haveth no need for it anymore."

Seam slowly held his hand out and grabbed the bag from the duke and dragged it under the counter before smiling back up to Rouxls. "Thank you, Friend. I was wondering where it had went." Rouxls made a hum and gave another look around the sheap, Seam tilted his head at his silence, "I take it you're looking for something as well? Perhaps I can help you find it."

"...Perhaps thou might." He turned his eyes back to him. "Where tis thine comical c-companion?"

"Oh, Jevil?" Rouxls didn't seem to flinch or anything at the name this time. Good. He shrugged. "At work most likely. If memory serves me right, King Hearts has been going over a few surprises for the big celebration next...week I think. And of course that promise to help watch out for the young King he made to you. But-..." He button eye spun as his one good eye looked him over. "Hehehe. He did mention wanting to let you relax a few days of your vacation before you go back next week."

Rouxls blinked...and stared confused at the smiling feline in front of him. "...Next week?"

He chuckled. "Well it's been six days counting today. I could've sworn you're break was ten days. Or not, I might be miscounting in my old age."

Rouxls's eyes widened slightly as he stared at the cat. A-All of this....EVERYTHING THAT HAD HAPPENED!! Had happened within a span of six days?! It felt like a lifetime! He stumbled and had to grab onto the counter to keep from falling, Seam quickly reaching his arm out to catch the worm's shoulder and staring at his dumbfounded look with concern.

"Whoa there, Friend. Are you alright?"

"I-I-..." Rouxls blinked and shook his head, "Y-Yes. I just hadst...n-no clue how long I-it hast been."

Seam slowly leaned him back onto his feet and gave a smile. "Well I think we all have been a little distracted the last few days. It's perfectly understandable to lose track of time. "

"B-B-But...How waseth I not able to notice thine time? I amst always on top of thine schedules!" He gave Seam a disbelieving look. "How couldst I not know about this?"

Seam hummed before pointing at him. "Perhaps your mind and body really did know how much you needed this break?" A paw was placed onto his shoulder and gave a few reassuring pats. "Don't worry about anything right now. Heed my words and rest, Dear Duke."

The walk back home was filled with him scolding himself for not being on top of the time, and beating himself up over how Lancer must've been so lost without him to help him right now. I mean who else would know just how to make him fried worms and meatballs he loved so much? Or read him his favorite Hide and Seek with Fluffy Bunny book before bedtime? Or helped him with running his part of the kingdom?! .....Or keep him from the dungeon? O-Or be his father...Surely no one was more qualified than him right? He's been there from the very beginning and certainly going to be there until his end. ....But he would be lying to himself if he didn't say he was curious about this whole 'plan' Jevil had put together. Oh he better had been keeping his word about Lancer this entire time. If he found so much as a hair misplaced on his fuzzy little head, he'd be sent back to the dungeon faster than you could say 'Chaos'.

The rest of the day had been pretty quiet as well. Not so much as a guard stopping in and saying hi. Wow. It really had been a while if he wasn't used to the usual quiet of his shoppe. He decided he might as well heed Seam's words and 'relax' as everyone kept telling him. So the very next day he decided to do just that, still woke up fairly early out of habit, but his body was strangely more...less tired? If that even made any sense. Perhaps everyone was right. Maybe he did need a rest- Those thought were quickly shaken away and replaced with 'Well, If I really need a break then I could've just easily taken one at anytime if I wanted too. Lancer still needs me.' 'Yeah, well considering nothing tramatic has happened that says a lot about your boy huh?' 'Oh shut up!' 'What Jevil said about giving him some room from you was probably true, but you keep denying his truth. Just like you keep denying your feeli-"

"Ok. That tis enough self monologue this morning!" He quickly escaped the warmth of his bed and stood up. Time to start the day.

During the next two days, the shoppe was filled with relaxing music played from a small record player in the corner, it's owner sitting behind the counter knitting away or rereading his calligraphy books on poetry, some he might've written himself and wasn't too bad. If he said so himself, who could write poetry better than him?~....King Hearts but that's besides the point. He still looked over his shoulder every so while but that was just force of habit. Speaking of habits, he tried really hard not to think of Lancer or the eventual 'date' he accidentally agreed to with Jevil. The endless possibilities of what that little loony would do made him shiver, hopefully he'll be more aware of his own boundaries.

The third day was his next to last one for break if he remembered right, oh he could taste the sweet relief of seeing his sweet little boy again. His smile and giggles were to absolutely to die for. The thought made him get into a better mood, momentarily making him forget any worries and putting him into a better mood. The one guard who finally came in had the pleasure of having a smiling duke winking at him. Sold a good few diamonds and dark candy that day. But he didn't expect the next morning to be filled with his head pounding from a headache. So groaning and tossing his head under the pillow seemed a good way to start his morning.

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!!

Grumbling, a blue face surrounded by white mess bedhead rose from under the comfy pillow and blinked tiredly. How..What was- More knocking sounds came from the other side of the shoppe and he lazily turned his gaze in that direction. It sounded like a bloody rabbick was knocking it's way around outside. Wouldn't be the first time those little rodents tried to break into his food supply. So with a grumble and annoyed look, the worm forced himself out of the comfy warm bed and onto the cold floor. Shuffling his way over towards the door, the knocking was still coming on strong and it was starting to get annoying.

"Alrighteth! I amst coming. Keepest thineself down." The knocking seemed to halt from his shout and was silent as he reached his hand around the doorknob and pulled the door open. ...The sight before him wasn't what he was expecting.

"Why hello, hello.~" A familiar smile and yellow eyes peered up at him from the ground. Long tail wagging behind him. The faint smell of candy came at him full force and dull purple and red suddenly flashed across his vision. "Hehe. For you, you.~"

Rouxls had to blink and take a step back to take a good look at the smaller man in front of him. ..He still half believed he was asleep by what he saw. Jevil The Jester....Wasn't wearing any jester outfit as per the norm. Instead his body was adorned with a purple suit with a comically large orange bow, and same clown shoes. His hand was holding up a couple small tree branches, covered in small dark black flowers that would've been candies soon if Jevil hadn't broken them off the branch. They were all tied together by a small red ribbon tied in a bow. Jevil was standing there with a beaming smile and seemed to be waiting for his reaction.

He slowly blinked and looked at the strange bouqet of branches in front of him. It shook a bit when Jevil pressed it a little closer to him, he slowly brought his hand up and lightly grabbed it from him. He gave it a confused look over, a few leaves falling from the twigs. "Um....Thank thee."

Jevil's tail wagged a little faster and he let out a couple more giggles before looking back up at him. "Are you ready, ready?"

"Ready...for what?"

"Our date, date silly, silly Rouxls.~"

Rouxls full on stopped and stared dumbfounded at the smaller man. One could see the wheels turning in his tired mind before his eyes widened and his brain finally snapped back like a rubber band to reality. "THAT'S TODAY!! R-RIGHT NOW!?"

Jevil giggled and reached a claw over to gently poke Rouxls's pajama pants. "I see you're late, late. Did you forget?"

"NO!...*Ahem*" He quickly stood back up and cleared his throat. "O-Of courseth not! I nay forgot about this event. I just...w-wasn't expecting thou to arrive so soon...*sigh* Cometh in and wipe thou's feet." The duke turned and trudged back into the shop and in followed the bouncy happy purple menace behind him. The bell dinging as the door closed behind them. The tree branches were placed onto the counter as the tired worm walked around it and gave Jevil one last look before disappearing into the back. "Wait here please."

He egerly nodded and watched him disappear behind the curtain before chuckling to himself. PERFECT!! Part one of his plan was already complete! He got Rouxls to agree with his idea and he had already accepted his token of his affections. Now the next step was to wow him of course! And he had plenty of practice from the plays he and Seam used to script together and perform for the Kings! Just take some of those old romance scenes and play them into real life. Genius right? OH! Seam wouldn't stand a chance against him now! Because he had a secret weapon on his side in the form of a very round boy and the very hopeless romantic that was the King of Hearts! The boy provided the game stats on the Duke and his majesty gladly gave him all the romantic advice he could give for his help in the ball restorations. Everything Seam didn't even know about Rouxls.

Now all he had to do was just keep his cool and keep this plan on track. After all. HE COULD DO ANYTHING!!

His head snapped up towards the curtain as it flapped open again and the worm appeared in all his suited up glory, making Jevil's tail wag out in glee.

"*sigh* Showest me what thou has planned for me today, Worm."

#fanfic #jevil #rouxls kaard #seam #deltarune #seaxls #rouxls kaard x seam #rouxls kaard x jevil #jevil x rouxls #jevil x seam #seam x rouxls #seam x jevil #rouxls x jevil #rouxls x seam #jeam #seavil #rouxlvil #rouxvil #nosuit

[twilightknight17]

Today on P5S, we’re taking a nice relaxing dip in the hot sprin--

Fukuoka, Kyushu! The plan was to keep going straight through to Kyoto, but Makoto was hurting from all the driving, so we pulled over with the intention of spending the night in a proper hotel and having a good meal. Which, of course, means ramen, because we gotta try the local ramen in each place. ^_^

Even Morgana wanted to try, though he requested that Akira blow on it, first, because “feline tongues are sensitive.”

The plan was to stay in Fukuoka until Makoto was feeling better, but Zenkichi called and basically said we had to get to Kyoto right away. So after a night of sleep, we got up the next morning, and we finally learned why Haru hasn’t been driving, despite having her license.

My wife has a lead foot.

Apparently no one but Joker and Queen ever drove the Mona Bus, because everyone but Makoto seemed extremely surprised.

Supposedly it was eight hours to Kyoto. We were there by noon.

Anyway, this old bar is apparently Zenkichi’s safe house, if anything ever goes wrong on an investigation.

He’s tracked the list of names that we found in the lab back to a politician called Jyun Owada, who was apparently a Shido supporter. This guy would benefit from changes of heart, and one of his supporters is the CEO of Madicce, Mr. Akira Konoe. They determine that Owada wouldn’t have a Jail himself, but that he’s probably getting Konoe to influence people for him. Which means that, since Sophia sensed a Jail in Osaka (that we missed because we were all screaming at Haru’s driving), it’s most likely that Konoe is a Monarch.

So my dart hit the board, I just gotta see how close to the bullseye.

Zenkichi heads to Osaka for a meeting with Konoe to try to get his keyword, and convinces the kids to stay behind. They need to rest and recover so they can be at their best for the Jail. Plus, he’s put them up in the nicest hotel in Kyoto! Which means it’s time to go to the hot springs!

The boys are having a lovely time relaxing. Even Morgana’s chilling on a rock with his tail in the water, basking in the chance to really unwind.

.......Atlus. We need to have words.

Not only was this absolutely unnecessary...

It’s the exact same scenario as P3. We’re even in the same goddamn city. If I thought Gekkoukan would be willing to spend 40K per person a night, it might as well be the same hotel.

Apparently, the boys went in right before the time switched over, and didn’t realize. And now, once again, they’re up for an unjust execution. At least Yosuke and Teddie were actually peeping in P4.

Personally, I think a better plan would have been to start yelling, “Who’s there?” as soon as the girls came in. Sneaking just makes it look like you’re up to something nefarious. It was an honest mistake. And really, trying to get out without causing a scene isn’t a heinous crime.

We don’t see who knocked over the thing that got them caught, but they do get caught. There’s no gameplay here. Defeat is inevitable. And...

The girls jump immediately to accusing them of being perverts. Never mind that they’re wet because they just got out of the damn hot spring. And the boys try to explain. They try their best. They explain that they didn’t realize the time had switched. They explain that they’d gotten locked in without noticing, because the men’s side doors lock when it switches over. “It was an accident,” Akira says, plaintively.

And Makoto looks at these boys that she’s fought alongside for over a year. The ones who risked their lives to save her and everyone more than once. The teammates that she stood beside as they shot a god and saved the entire damn world. The ones who, on this very roadtrip, stepped in to defend Haru from Natsume being a harassing jackass... And she says...

She sounds actually angry.

And she beats them up.

For an honest mistake.

I know this is a trope, but in this particular instance, it’s stupid, and it feels incredibly out of character. None of the boys deserve this, but Akira least of all. He’s your goddamn leader; he’s done more for any of you than anyone else. He’s been falsely accused of shit over and over, and now he has to deal with it from his own teammates?

For shame, Atlus. Shitty writing, especially because this event is never going to be brought up again. Was this supposed to be funny? Because in this situation, it wasn’t at all.

...now that I’m done being cranky, let’s go check how Zenkichi’s meeting in Osaka is going.

Hm. Nowhere, apparently, because Konoe’s gone for the day. Weird. Zenkichi had an appointment and everything.

Now let’s check on... well fuck.

Commissioner Kaburagi, Zenkichi’s boss, is summoned by the commissioner general and the previously mentioned Owada. This asshole is claiming to have evidence that the Phantom Thieves are behind all the changes of heart. They hacked into EMMA!

You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, when you’re the one behind this.

.......maybe this lady is better than I thought.

She says that there’s not enough proof, and that they need to look into things more. The commissioner general counters that the Thieves are going to be tried for murder. Because apparently they killed that poor man at the Okinawa facility after they learned how to get into EMMA.

Kaburagi knows this is bullshit and wants to investigate more, but they basically tell her to do it or else. And promise that she’ll be commissioner general one day. After the current commissioner general launches his political career with the capture of the Phantom Thieves, of course. And she’s just going to follow orders. Never mind. God. I didn’t misjudge her at all.

Konoe goes on TV and announces that they’re shutting down EMMA temporarily, because the Phantom Thieves hacked it and stole personal information. He also informs everyone that they murdered one of his employees. Zenkichi and I had the same reaction, which was “WHAT?!”

Look at this asshole.

Zenkichi realizes what’s going to happen and takes off for Kyoto. Cut to that night, where there’s an entire fucking squad of police outside of the hotel in riot gear. For seven teenagers. Zenkichi shows up and basically pleads with Kaburagi to stop and think, because the real mastermind is still out there.

Kaburagi snaps back with, “You mean like with your wife?” and Zenkichi shuts up. Low blow, lady. She also points out that he seems very attached to criminals.

Before Kaburagi can have the police storm the place, Zenkichi yells for the kids to run, and gets arrested for it. The kids make it to the safe house, but when they find out about the arrest, they want to go after him. They end up agreeing to let Makoto handle that, and then we get a look at King Asshole himself.

I hate how nice this man’s office is.

And I’m kind of afraid of EMMA.

Good luck with that, though. You’d have to break them first; you can’t change the heart of someone stable enough to have a persona. Not that this fuck would know that.

God, he’s like if Shido and Maruki had a fucked-up kid. He wants his own personal team capable of entering the metaverse and changing people, to make the world “better”. Holy fuck.

Somehow I don’t think you’re the one in the right, when you’re talking about making us a “sacrifice to bring about [your] new world order.”

So the next day, the Thieves get a text from Akane’s phone number, that basically says she’s been kidnapped. It’s clearly a trap, but they all agree that they have to go. According to the text, if they want her back, they need to come to Inari Taisha.

Also known as Fushimi Inari, the largest Inari Shrine in Japan. I’ve been there.

I have literally been right there. I have a picture:

And so the kids head into a Jail based on Fushimi Inari where the keyword is “Phantom Thieves”, and I try not to explode from sheer glee because oh boy I thought I’d have to wait a lot longer for this and also I didn’t expect it to be somewhere I know.

Eeeeeeeee~

They find Akane tied up and all go running towards her. Futaba trips, and before she can catch up, a huge cage snatches up the rest of them, because surprise, the Jail Monarch is Akane, and she’s absolutely ready to lord it over them.

Meanwhile, Zenkichi is getting beaten up in interrogation and taking it like a champ.

But it’s okay, because Makoto called in a favor. <3

Futaba managed to get back to the safe house, and Zenkichi met up with her there after Sae got him released.

So you know that bit in P5 where the phan-site poll hits 100% belief and we summoned a demon the size of a skyscraper? That’s Zenkichi right now, except he’s hitting Maximum Dad Energy and I’m pretty sure he’s going to summon his persona.

There’s a cool stealth sequence where you have to sneak by a bunch of shadows, because Zenkichi doesn’t have a persona. Futaba runs navigation for him, but it’s so funny because he... sneaks like a regular person. He doesn’t leap into cover with superhuman speeds.

It might have been cool to play Zenkichi With A Gun, but stealth mode was fun, too. XD

And then the confrontation with Akane. She gives the Thieves a choice of who wants their heart changed first, but before anyone can stupidly volunteer, Zenkichi shows up, and a few more things get revealed. Most importantly, the fact that Owada is the one who killed Zenkichi’s wife, and Zenkichi got death threats directed at Akane if he didn’t stop investigating. No fucking wonder he couldn’t solve the case. But Akane is too disillusioned to listen, because she doesn’t understand. And Zenkichi is forced to confront that at some point, he compromised his morals, telling himself he was doing it for Akane.

This line wasn’t sung, but I kind of wish it was, considering who his persona is. :P

Zenkichi admits that he might have been wrong. But he was doing it to protect the only family he had left.

“But at least I know what makes a person evil. Evil only cares about itself. It’s the mark of a man who would bring another to ruin and dare not show remorse.”

And his awakening was badass.

Shitty picture, but his literal shadow had glowing eyes while it was forming the contract. It was so cool. :D

Wolf is awesome. After beating up a whole hoard of shadows by himself, Akane got away, the Thieves were freed, and we all went back to the safe house to rest. And I swear, you take a nap for one hour, and cannot get any peace. XDDD

Thank you, darling. Now I gotta figure out what deck that’s from.

So that was today. Technically I only played for like...2 and a half hours?? But god, we hit the hot springs and everything just flung itself directly off a cliff and all I could do was hold on.

I have so many thoughts about things!!! But I need to see more first. But this has been fantastic overall.

#god this is a long one #Li plays P5Scramble

[septembriseur]

You guys know that I’m back to working on Transposition. But it is, frankly, a challenge, and I feel a lot of pressure to put something out there and prove that the story will be finished. So I’m posting what is essentially some AU tidbits, because it’s a draft of part of Chapter 52 that I threw out and totally reconceptualized. It is not particularly good, but here it is!

Telford trades the tel’tak to a junk dealer in the P3S-805 system and ends up in a ratty little cobbled-together half-Kerobottri exoship that shakes when you try to engage its makeshift FTL drive, but, hey, it comes with no questions asked. And it’s not like he has any reason to be picky; he’s just trying to get a couple of gate-trips ahead of Kiva’s people before he finds a spaceport and settles down to get drunk.

The place he ends up in is a shithole clustered around the North Pole of a medium-sized planet in the Formalhaut Debris Ring, about twenty-two light years from Earth. It’s a frozen, sandy desert with a dozen tiny speckling moons above it, and not a single building more than three stories tall. It caters to frack miners running hot crews through the debris ring, which the LA’s First and Second House periodically squabble over, and the occasional Goa’uld war criminal hoping to lay low. That makes it a good place for Telford, even if the liquor is shitty. So he hauls out some of the raw data crystals that he stripped off the Sixth House tel’tak and pays enough to dock his ship, then keeps paying until the barkeeper at the watering hole hands over the bottle.

It’s whatever the latest thing is that the Lucian kids are cooking up out of kassa. It doesn’t really taste like anything; just like ethanol and antiseptic. He hunkers down in his ship and knocks the stuff back without a chaser. And again. And then again. For a while, grimly determined, that’s all he does: limiting his world to the fumes that he breathes out, and the back of his throat, where the mucous membrane is burning.

He doesn’t have a jacket anymore, but he’s got what the bounty hunter threw in with the exoship: a couple of Himalayan-looking blankets made out of knotted-up fibers, and a hooded coat lined with some kind of animal fur. So he puts the coat on, and, after a while, the hood too, then drags one of the blankets over his shoulders and breathes into his cupped hands. He can smell the coat’s earthy leather, and whatever it is that fur smells like. The air smells like naquadah and ozone. He looks out over the bulks of the ships, great beasts sleeping in the desert on every side of the outpost-city, some as tall as the buildings and twice as big. The dim light of the sun, filtered through dust clouds, glints off the shinier of their surfaces, along with the occasional scattered fleck of a moon. They’re like shrapnel wounds, that spray of moons— not quite regular enough to be strafe-marks, but deep enough that you can see the inside of whatever it is that was punctured.

He takes another abrupt swig of the liquor.

He thinks his first step should be to take stock of what he has left. The Hemingway is gone now, and the Dostoevsky. The— assorted personal knickknacks that he hadn’t needed anyway. He took enough shit off the tel’tak to last him a little while if he barters, but when he’d made his elaborate back-up plans, he always assumed he’d be leaving from Earth. So he hasn’t got a whole hell of a lot of assets out here in deep space. He can always sell intel, but that comes with the risk of someone back-tracing the information. Or he can take the sensible option and just turn mere. It’s what a lot of guys did on Earth, anyway, after they’d left the service, if they’d gotten deep in debt or just couldn’t fit in.

He’d tried to imagine it himself, when he was younger: leaving the service. Retiring. Consulting. Security. A house, a car, a wife, a couple of kids. On some level that language didn’t reach down to, the thought had always repelled him. He’d thought that if he tried it, he would end up like one of those guys you heard about who just went missing, just up and walked away from their lives one day. They turned up twenty years later running a tackle shop off the coast of Alaska, or flying prop planes in the South Pacific, or else they didn’t turned up, and stayed question marks forever, strangers who had sealed whatever secret they carried so well inside them that they had taken it, totally unknown, to their graves.

It was possible to do that. It wasn’t a failure. Maybe it even meant that you’d won. Whatever was inside you, you’d kept it: pure and unsullied, a hard bright crystal, a fuel you could burn. It was uncontaminated and yours forever.

He can feel it inside him now: a pain in the region of his chest, close to but not exactly contiguous with the heart.

He drinks and watches cosmic dust catch the amber glow of the distant sunlight.

A cold wind shifts and rattles the sand.

***

An ice storm in the morning, with no rain: only hailstones rattling like pebbles against the walls of the exoship. He wakes from a restless sleep still wrapped in fur and heavy blankets. He feels like God has picked up the box he’s hiding in and shaken it right next to His ear to hear if anything left inside still scuttles. He thinks about Rush explaining Wittgenstein’s beetle. There is something alive in us, though it may be a very singular creature. It may not be what other people thought— hoped— it was.

Still. Something scuttles. Insect legs against the siding.

He erases his travel history in the ship’s computer and swallows down another couple fingers of kassa liquor for breakfast, tunelessly humming Mahler under his breath, then throws it up an hour later courtesy of his hangover.

When he stands, he sees starbursts against the array of evening. It’s not really evening, of course; there’s not really night or day, this close to the magnetic pole of a planet, unless you count the constant half-dim polar twilight. One long night lasting half a year, deranging the little rock’s temporalities like every other kind of measurement was deranged by the location. Get too close to the axis of something, and you lose all sense of how to chart it.

He’s familiar with the problem.

***

Ships come and go like fireflies in a summer time-lapse, their engines burning off into the dusk.

It’s fall on Earth, he guesses. So: no more fireflies, which: fuck ‘em, anyway. They only last a few months before they’re done. Like humans, when seen from an Ascended perspective. Little chips of mica; little specks of dust. You could lose a fistful and not notice, so why should they matter?

He thinks of Rush sinking his hands in the floor up to the wrists, as though he could reach down and reclaim the mineral flecks trapped there for eons. As though the whole universe were just water, none of it yet set in stone around him.

It should’ve been me, Telford thinks. It should’ve been me who—

But he hadn’t had the genes.

Always something missing.

***

He doesn’t speak English out here. He speaks the degraded Babylonian of Sixth House. Or at least that’s what Jackson had always said it was— the bastard child of Akkadian and Aramaic, mixed with the Hebrew dialects of the Asar planets, sort of like what might have happened if the Babylonian Empire still existed. He’d had to learn it from scratch when he went undercover the first time, in case the translation matrix ever encountered a glitch. It was hard work, but he was good at it, at least according to Jackson. Jackson had seemed faintly surprised; Telford had said, “You thought I’d be as dumb as a brick.” “No,” Jackson had said, but his eyes had slid guiltily away. Telford had smirked, grimly pleased by the implied admission. Jackson had said, too hurriedly, “I didn’t. II wasn’t surprised because— I mean, I wasn’t alluding to— obviously that’s not what I meant.”

What he’d meant didn’t interest Telford. At forty-two years old, he’d had every version of that conversation, the one that was all ellipses. The last thing he wanted was to rehash them again with fucking Jackson. So, instead, he’d said, “Aramaic in space. Doesn’t it ever make you wonder?”

Jackson had looked uncomfortable. He’d adjusted his glasses with both hands. “Wonder what?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me. If Jesus was— you know.”

“Extraterrestrial, you mean? A Goa’uld? The idea’s been floated.”

“And?”

They’d been sitting in an empty conference room, waiting for some meeting to start; it had been late, Telford thinks now, or very early; there had been this hush, like sound was suppressed. Sometimes late at night there, he’d feel like he was under the ocean: the pressure deforming his eardrums, till all he could hear was the rush of his own blood. Jackson had toyed with a pencil, balancing it on the side of one finger. Unbidden, Telford had been reminded of the Egyptian scale of justice, where your heart was weighed against a feather after you were dead. The image had seemed apt; Daniel, he’d thought, what a fan-fucking-tastic Eternal Judge you’d make, sitting there with your schoolboy pout and your moralizing.

Without looking up, Jackson had said, “Oh, I don’t know. Not really the Goa’uld modus operandi, is it?”

“No? Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s; forget about getting what you deserve, and God’s going to magically provide you with loaves and fishes?”

“That seems like a very thin interpretation of the Gospels.”

Telford had half-laughed incredulously. “You’re going to come over all Christian on me, Jackson?”

Jackson flattened his pout out into a thin line. “I hardly think it has to be Christian to suggest that the impulse behind one of Earth’s major religions, and a full interpretation of its sacred texts, is about more than just the redistribution of resources.”

“So— what, then?” Telford moved restlessly in his chair.

“Divine justice,” Jackson said. He had the air of someone offering a challenge. “The idea that there’s something beyond us, some truth, some ultimate harmony or knowledge. Something that we’re a part of, if we want to be— if we want to be good.”

Telford had felt incredulous. “Knowledge,” he’d repeated. “Ultimate knowledge.”

“You don’t think that’s what God is? Knowledge?” Jackson seemed genuinely curious. His forehead was furrowed.

“Well,” Telford said, “for starters, I don’t think God is good.”

“I can’t tell you how amazed I am to hear it.” Jackson’s mouth gained a sad quirk. He looked down, at where the pencil was perfectly balanced on his finger. “So: not harmonious, but maybe— maybe still knowledge.”

Telford had shaken his head— slowly at first, and then faster, like a round of sardonic applause building. “Don’t get me wrong, Jackson— I know you’ve been a floating space octopus of pure light and shit, and gotten the sublime wisdom of the Ancients, but to paraphrase a much wiser man than myself: kid, I’ve flown from one side of this galaxy to the other, and I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything to make me believe that all I need is more information, like a giant celestial textbook is going to make it all make sense.”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Jackson said.

But he looked hurt; stung, somehow. His face had closed off. He curled his fist around the pencil. Telford had felt a brief surge of triumph; he liked defeating Jackson. At the same time, he had recognized Jackson’s expression. Back then, he hadn’t known why or what it meant. Now, he remembers it and senses some vague association with the dreams in which he tries to find the Chinese room. He wants to trust that there’s a place in which the answers will all be provided. He wants a dictionary that will teach him how to be a man. Unlike Jackson, though, he doesn’t think that one exists. There are no universals. There is no truth that we are trying to uncover in the only way that Jackson would’ve understood— the way an archeologist sifts through layers of dirt, patiently looking for the pieces that were once part of a coin, a corpse, a kettle, before the annihilating storm of history blew through. There’s a churning mass that has never had a meaning. It isn’t moving towards or away from something. It just is what it is.

When he was undercover, speaking Babylonian had helped; he’d felt like a different person. He’d felt like he was moving through a different world, one that wasn’t organized according to the same kind of principles he’d grown up with. There was no right or wrong to it; just a different set of facts. He took to it like a fish to water, once he’d mastered the language. The sense of alienation was familiar to him. When he went back to Earth between assignments, that was the strange part— standing in his own house, his own kitchen.

And now he never has to go back there. Never has to speak English again, if he doesn’t want to. He can move through different languages, different truths, like putting uniforms on and taking them off when you’re finished.

“Shkarum,” he says to the bartender, tapping the bar with two emphatic fingers. “Ak shkarum yahab, vakash.”

His accent is very good.

***

#the stargate pit #transpo #my fic

[phoebehalliwell]

Yo that anon with the Bianca/Dency 👌🏻👌🏻 but like ohhh Dency coupd totally meet a cute Phoenix in her universe tho!! 👀 Or maybe a dark Witchlighter? Idk I think her falling I love with a more “neutral” witch hybrid would be cute!

And like do you think her little agency would work with neutral magical sources like phoenixes to find people? Because like Dency could be like a Penn but for the opposite side? If that makes sense?? Like Penn is bringing all the “light” witches together but Dency is really the figures head for the “dark/neutral” witches like the witch hybrids and the phoenixes…like Dency is kinda like the unintentional beacon of light for that side…just by being herself? Like maybe she doesn’t actively campaign for more acceptance for hybrid witches but her mere existence alone and the good she does is enough to get the ball rolling?

tbh as far as dency love interests go i'm a little bit torn because i have this mortal rashid idk if i've talked bout him before but like. he and dency have a classic rivals to lovers arc going on in college liek they fucking Hated each other blah blah blah she definintely gaslighted him a lil with her powers nothing malicious jsut like. teleportation like ha there's no way she'll beat me 2 the best spot in the library bc i just saw her walking up the steps while i am already inside and then boom he walks over there and she's there how?? the fuck>? teleporation fuck u. the point is thru their quasi spy vs spy antics i think they start to gain a sense of respect for one another than and he goes political journalism did this question even mention love interests idk That's Not The Point rashid does politics while dency's a bit more of a muckraker kinda more on a corporate side fraud and all that so they no longer are competitors and um. like they can finally appreciate the other as they are no longer and opponent as with most dency characters they have hooked up a couple times i shouldn't say that because as far as characters that have been introduced dency has slept with none of them bc they are all her besties u should never sleep w ur besties only ur homies but i think. i've stated this before? for starters dency doesn't do a lot of long term relationships just because you know that level of vulnerabilty and like if u really like someone then it's just leverage thatcan be used agianst u Or if u die then ur gonna break their heart but i think she does casual relationships with literally anyone but witches i. haven't posted the chaapter fuck i'll post it now because i've been sitting on it for so long and like i'm worried i'm gonna back myself in a corner w a it's not a plotline i don't like maybe just a plotpoint but i've like. written half the next chapter anyway. i'm also sitting on about 10k i think not only. 7k? unpublished w&s because it's like ending the narrative is ending i really need it to be coherent Speaking of incoherent. dency. i'm gonna post the chapter. but dency hangs out a lot at p3 which has changed hands piper owns her restaurants the backstory for this is.

paige has a charge back in the late aughts she's in a coven the point is her bestie has some traumatic incident happen to her and she wants revenge and it's something that (imo) totally justifies revenge like a killing her rapist type thing and like. it depends how we're going with charmed morality but i've established before i think (?) it's canon that if a witch takes an innocent's life she becomes a warlock like it's possible for witches to defect and become warlock if they take a life Specifically an innocent's life and even tho like that guy would be a mortal he def doesn't get innocent status because he's fucking evil she's allowed to murder him but i think she would murder someone else in the process and then causes her to lose her witch powers and gain a couple warlock powers and the rest of her coven shuns her for it which could have easily sent her down a dark path but paige's charge her bestie like stood by her thru all that like. like it's shit cosmic rules tbh. maybe. for legal reasons: i am not endorsing murder. please for the love of god don't make me admit to a grand jury i have a tumblr that'll be so cringe bro do not murder anyone. but paige's charge stands by her and idk maybe paige gets her a job at p3 all that the point is when piper sells the club to open her restaurant she sells it to paige's charge and her gf the warlock. so p3 kind of becomes a neutral power for magic no vanquishes allowed and it's one of the few places dark magic has on the surface just to vibe u just have to be able to tolerate being served by a witch like she owns the place so that kind of filters it. idk if this is more rambly than it normally is. i promise i'll go back in later and add periods. maybe. i am also a liar. but the point is i think p3 is one of the few places dency can really be hersefl because herself is half demon!! and at magic school she really is suppoed to feel ashamed of that like she hates it or something wishes it gone and Yes. it does scare her. being the source's heir all that. she's always worried about giving in to dark magic but like. she's a demon!!! there's no changing that there's no fighting that pushing it under the rug like. she can't change it she does want to spend her life hating herself like. it's who she is. fuck. so i think she doesn't date witches but like the regulars at p3 some warlocks the occasional like darklighter. dency has had romantic trysts with.

beck to rashid her mortal homies who she has hooked up with who they've always had this rapport they have this thing. bc rashid's smart okay that's why he's at dency's level (respectfully she gets her brains from her father i love phoebe but she's intuitive not intelligent cole on the other hand passed the bar exam (i think) so like.) rashid knows something's up. the point is they each give the other three questions. three questions you ask that the other has to answer fully honestly cards on the table no half truths nothing just the answer. rashid used one of those to find out dency's a witch, but she made him work for it. nothing vague like what are you strange things happen around you why like she's like ask your question but you better be specific about it and he's like fuck it. whatever. magic. that's my answer i think magic happens with you and no i'm not flirting i'm dead serious is magic like. are you magical? and the answer was yes. and rashid like while he was asking while he was like confident enough to admit that out loud to ask that to her face Did not see that coming. of course. there's a difference between like yes i can cast a couple spells and yes i'm the antichrist so. : )! but i think that's like a rapport thing between rashid and dency like whenever they ask hard hitting questions like "is that one of your three questions?" but idk if he's gonna. if he's gonna be it for her. there's also jack dency's childhood bestie so there's the childhood friends to lovers thing but like. i just don't see jack being in love with dency in that way like they're best friends. but not lovers. (but maybe they are??? idk)

But. third potential love interest is if i weren't goign for those two i was actually thinking.

two options here a cupid who reocgnizes dency as "the demon with the cupid ring? yeah that's gotta be the source's heir". so there's that i like the idea of. yeah. : )

but also. and i came up w this in an ask which i will not evne attempti to find. i'm sorry i can't spell you guys but it;s not happening 2nite beloeveds. but if u'vemade it this far. i do love u w my whole heart. dency. love interests. old ask about a squad a half-grimlock. appeal of being able to see auras see good people. this was originally in the ask. a love interest for billie?? maybe. idk. but just like. for dency someine who's always known htey have this immense dark side like. hmmmmmm okay i just thot of somehting. for lili. whish is phillipa. which is the prandy thirdborn. she's phsycics. however tf u spell that sykick. that's not the point dency who has. the source on her soul. falling with someone who can literally see the good in her. i'm picturing the half grimlock just ot like like a normal albino human. and they run a halfway house for those born of evil. because he or she or they idk>??? maybe neorponounds idk!!> whoever they r they run a halfway house for these kids born from demons warlocks darklighters bc they can see the good in them and that shouldn't. you get so scared gifted with these powers you don't understand they need a place to turn to. and the grimlock grimmy offers that place. def not their name but like. grimmy lmoa. ao. yeah. i think jsut opening i think integating magic schoolesp in a dency timeline what with penn and the elders and their pomp and circumstance i think it'd be a pain in the ass. but at the very least A magic school for kids wihtout light magic like they deserve it. evil shouldn't just be their default option. like they're just kids man they're jsut kids they deserve a shot at not even good man not everyone has to go on to be exceptional cure cancer and save the world just like. a chance to understand themselves not be scared. not be hated, jsut be/ like. do they not deserve that? so if grimmy's not a li for dency at the very least they are homies and they like pull together a magic school for neutral/dark beings.

#i don't know what this says!!!! #ahaha lmao #i'll read this later i hope this answers the question #i love u #charmed #dency halliwell #just like. do u guys know how much it fills my heart when u guys ask me this shit> #like #like like like like it's like. like these are/ i've said this before but liek these are just lil guys and they live in my head #but they live in your heads too!! and i'm like wow <3 like. like like when you're like how would dency warren sheridan penn dove anyone lik #like like i'm like wow. #i am from california if is was not obvius from how many times i used the word like to convey my feelinfs but like. wow 🥺♥ #next gen #charmed next generation #💌

[dibleopard-writes]

Training Montage

Ao3 (recommended)

Description: Anakin was the Chosen One and therefore the best padawan anyone could ask for, especially Master Obi-Wan. He was so good, in fact, that he had plenty of time for shenanigans or, as he privately referred to them, Shenanakins. Force, he was clever. Several snippets from the training of Anakin Skywalker. Author’s Note: Fanfiction, in 2020? It's more likely than you think. I'm working on several Star Wars projects right now, and here's one that is far less structured with far less need for in depth planning. Original Upload Date: 2020-08-27 Fandom: Star Wars Prequels (post TPM, pre AotC) Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, various side characters Rating: Gen (or T for language) Warnings: Swearing, Canon-typical Violence Word Count: 6490

Chapter 1 of ??

Chapter 1: Moles? In My Mine? It's More Likely Than You Think.

At the age of five, Anakin resolved to never be the kind of moody teenager spacers complained about. At the age of twelve, he decided that not only was that naive of him, but that he would get a head start and be moody right that second.

This change of heart was mostly due to Obi-Wan, who was refusing to take any missions offworld with him even though Anakin got his own lightsaber a whole three weeks ago and was therefore completely qualified.

“Having a lightsaber doesn’t help diplomacy, Padawan,” said Obi-Wan, completely missing the point.

“So don’t choose diplomatic missions! I bet there are hundreds of pirates hanging around… I don’t know, Batuu.”

“Batuu has smugglers, not pirates, Anakin–”

“– And?! We can arrest smugglers–”

“– And anyway, it would be irresponsible of me to take a padawan as young as yourself into a confrontation like that.”

“I’m not nine anymore! I’m not some dumb initiate, I can handle pirates.” If he was the first in his classes to fight pirates, he’d be able to hold it over them for ages. Even Iepa would have to respect him, smug son of a–

“I was still an initiate when I was your age.”

“Well I’m sorry you sucked, but that doesn’t mean I can’t go on missions.”

By this point, Master Obi-Wan had his head in his hands, almost hiding the beard he was trying to grow in order to look more authoritative. Anakin didn’t think he’d respect him any more with a beard than without, but it did make him look less like a clueless teenager so maybe he could fool the senior padawans.

“Look, if I took you offworld, not only could you get hurt or cause a diplomatic incident, but Master Windu would be on my back about it.”

Anakin muttered, “I could take him.”

“What was that?”

“I said you wouldn’t be able to shake him.” Anakin believed both statements emphatically. Sure, Mace Windu was the Master of the Order and invented an entire lightsaber form, but Anakin was the Chosen One, which basically made him the best. That being said, if Master Windu put his mind to it, he could be annoyingly stubborn in his pursuit of wrong-doers.

“My point exactly, and if he decided I was irresponsible – which I would be – we’d both be Temple-bound for months.”

“Oh, so you get to leave and I don’t?”

“Yes, but I’m sure you noticed I haven’t left because I’ve been too busy looking after you.”

“And what an amazing job you’ve been doing.”

“Watch your tone, young one.”

“Tell me, Master, do you remember any of my allergies?”

“Allergies?” Obi-Wan stopped for a second, with a look of genuine concern and guilt working its way over his face as he failed to recall information that Anakin had never given him.

“Yeah, I’m allergic to you and your banthashit!”

“Language, Padawan!” There was something resembling anger in Obi-Wan’s glare, but to acknowledge that would be sacrilege and also a suggestion that Anakin cared, which he didn’t. To prove this, he stormed into his room and used the Force to slam the pneumatic door as pneumatic doors rarely do.

Force, Obi-Wan could be insufferable sometimes.

...

After an hour of staring at the ceiling, Anakin came to the decision that the only real resolution to this conflict was running away and being a Jedi without Obi-Wan to bring him down. 

Fortunately, he had spent the last two years building his very own ship and had already put it through an entire test run without anything breaking. Between his technical expertise and thorough testing, the ship was probably the best in the entire Temple hangar.

First though, putting his stealth skills through their paces in order to get there. One doesn’t survive nine years of slavery without knowing how to move silently. The swoosh of the door may have been a bad start, but his slow navigation of the common room more than made up for it. Sure, Obi-Wan was in his own room, probably, like, crying over getting owned so hard, but if Anakin had made even the slightest mistake, he would have come running and demanded a ridiculous amount of meditation on respecting others. The stakes could not have been higher.

He crept out of their rooms and into the corridor, shushing the mouse droid that seemed to regard him judgmentally despite its lack of eyes. From there, it was a simple matter of carrying himself with unquestionable confidence along a convoluted path to the hangar. He passed a few senior padawans with dead eyes and piles of holopads in their arms without raising suspicion. Man, was he good at this.

The hangar was probably the best place in the Temple. Warm Temple stone met flame retarding durasteel in a way that shouldn’t have worked as well as it did. Several decade-old speeders lined up against one wall next to a small fleet of cargo ships and fighters. All of them were horrendously out of date and well worn in the way that a lot of the Temple’s technology was. When Anakin asked why the Jedi insisted on having such terrible tech, Obi-Wan had said something vague about budget and not being materialistic. It was unconvincing at best and Anakin had really shown the whole Order up with his latest project.

After his no-doubt legendary podracer was left on Tatooine, Anakin had taken all of six months to set his sights on building a starfighter that could take him to every system in the galaxy. Obi-Wan, relieved to find a hobby that would promote focus, had pulled some strings and Anakin had aimed akk-dog eyes at the Temple mechanics that he had been tailing for months until they let him at the skeleton of an old Delta-7. Aethersprites never came with their own hyperspace engines, but he could work with that. Annoyingly, the sublight engines in the hangar were nothing like the ones on a podracer so he had to spend a humiliating few weeks with an old mechanic to get them installed and working. On the positive side, there was an astromech droid fitted directly into the ship that could give him diagnostics and occasionally a mechanically-themed joke. The jokes were hit-or-miss but the droid was good.

Two years of sterling work had made the Delta the best ship in the Temple, and it could far outpace any of the speeders in Coruscant’s skylanes. Now, as he made his way ever-so-innocently towards it, he couldn’t help but admire the way the smooth paint looked among the chipped facades of the rest.

R4-P3 chirped a greeting as he hopped in and prepped the starter engines.

“Hi, P3, fancy going on a trip?”

“THERE WERE TWENTY-SEVEN TRAFFIC CODE VIOLATIONS DURING THE PREVIOUS FLIGHT.”

“Me too, buddy. See if you can find one of those hyperspace rings lying around here.” Ignition was smooth. Vertical repulsors engaged. Landing gear retracted. So far, his plan was flawless. A blip appeared on his screen, indicating the nearest hyperspace ring. Latching onto the ring was not something he had ever practiced before, so he assumed the strange rattling noise was normal.

As he ascended, chatter buzzed into the comm system.

“What’s that P3?”

The chatter cleared into actual sentences as P3 adjusted the frequency.

“-ing is not fitted properly. Repeat, Aethersprite Delta-7 please identify yourself-” Anakin flicked it off. Trust traffic control to kill his flow.

“PLEASE KEEP TO DESIGNATED SKYLANES,” bleated P3, taking up the burden instead. Anakin dodged a passing CorSec speeder.

“Will do,” he lied, “While I find one, you wanna do the hyperspace calculations?”

“DESTINATION?”

“Uh…” He hadn’t thought that far. Tatooine was probably weeks away, Naboo had way too much water just lying about– Where else had he been? Oh, that’s right: nowhere, because Obi-Wan didn’t care about him. “Batuu?” He could probably beat up a few smugglers in the name of justice before the Jedi caught wind of it. Talk about selfless heroism.

He hit the upper flight levels and powered through into the mesosphere. Considering the thin air at this altitude, there was a lot of turbulence. The shaking was beginning to make his arm buzz and it became a disproportionate effort to keep the control-stick level.

“LIGHTSPEED CALCULATIONS COMPLETE,” announced P3.

“Great, just in time,” replied Anakin, flicking some switches, at least three of which were relevant, “I’ll just make the jump now.”

As he pulled the jump ignition, P3 began screaming and the rattling grew louder. The pinprick stars became needle-thin lines became the whirl of blue and white he hadn’t seen since the last journey from Naboo. On that trip, the pilots hadn’t let him in the cockpit during the initial jump, so this would probably have been way better if not for the awful clatter of the hyperdrive and the eventual tear of engines sputtering out of commission. Maybe that was why he had never seen anyone make jumps in-atmosphere. Or perhaps the issue was related to the ring’s latching mechanism. Really, it was anyone’s guess.

P3’s wails had become spluttering, staticky sobs, which was honestly a poor display in a droid with no fear subprogram. The ring flew off the Aethersprite, plunging it back into normal space with a roar.

“Well that sucked,” Anakin said indignantly. His flying had been flawless, too!

P3, between choked bleeps, lit up the speedometer – the hyperspace ring was no longer pushing them beyond the light limit but neither had any reverse-thrusters been engaged, leaving them at a healthy constant speed of only-just-slower-than-light, which was probably fine – and the scanner – there was a planet about thirty light-seconds in front of them, which was probably less fine at their current speed.

“Okay, so it still sucks,” Anakin amended.

He slammed on the brakes and almost blacked out as G-force slammed on him in return. Rude. His old pod-racer never had this issue. He tried easing their deceleration more slowly, which involved less blacking out but also made slowing to pedestrian speeds before hitting the planet somewhat less feasible.

No matter; Anakin was an expert pilot and even more skilled at having incredible luck. This would be easy.

Within twenty seconds, they hit nature’s drag chute: the atmosphere. P3 tried to draw Anakin’s attention to their steep angle and high speed as if these weren’t things that Anakin already knew. They did seem more relevant when the entire ship’s hull flew alight, however, so he attempted to shallow out their descent. 

The control-stick was uncooperative and everything began to shake as he tugged it as far back as he could. How was he supposed to pilot if the ship refused to do what he wanted it to do? 

After five long seconds, the heat died and they plunged into a cloud bank. Everything past the tips of the Aethersprite’s wings was obscured by a white thicker than Obi-Wan’s skull, which was impressive if disorienting. He felt the control-stick hit full lock and a few of the many warning indicators seemed appeased.

Another five seconds, and P3 stopped screaming about their speed and started screaming about their altitude. The clouds remained steadfast.

“I’ve made an executive decision,” declared Anakin, “As captain of this ship, I say we attempt what we in the industry call a ‘terrain-assisted braking maneuver’.”

P3 did not respond particularly coherently, which Anakin chose to interpret as a vote of confidence. It did wonders for his self-esteem.

In a blink, the clouds vanished and a deep green forest appeared. P3 squeaked. Anakin grimaced. His hand was losing all sensation from gripping the control-stick so tightly, still in full lock, but their downwards momentum still overpowered the thrusters even as the Delta’s nose finally rose above the horizon. He gunned the accelerator away from the surface and his body felt heavier than the ship itself.

The ship jolted as it made contact with the treetops. Anakin switched to reverse-thrusters as the nose once again pitched downwards. Slugshot snaps crackled around them as trees snapped against the ship. He scrunched his eyes closed and braced.

Soil and splinters erupted as they collided with the ground. Anakin lurched painfully into his safety straps. P3’s voice cut off. The grinding of earth against hull slowed them to a stop and Anakin fell back against his seat.

Smoldering wiring filled the cockpit with an awful acidic smell so he tugged his straps off and pushed his way out after only a second of shaky breathing. Anakin was nothing if not practical.

“Do you think it’s gonna blow up?” he asked P3 from a safe distance. P3 seemed not to appreciate the thought but ran cursory diagnostics anyway.

As he waited, Anakin looked behind the ship and saw the gaping furrow they had left in the ground. Further away, a clumsy cut ran through the trees and a couple of wisps of smoke trailed lazily into the milk-blue sky.

All in all, an impeccable landing. The forest had looked well dull before anyway, and now it had a sick scar. You’re welcome, forest.

P3 decided that nothing was about to explode, but that the ship was fully inoperational, even if Anakin just wanted to take it on a spin to the nearest mountain range. He acquiesced that the assessment seemed about right, but also loudly proclaimed that P3 was a killjoy and a coward. P3 didn’t seem to care. Anakin kicked a clod of earth in defiance.

The ground was covered in small, stiff leaves from the pointy-looking trees around them. They were waxy little spits that more resembled star stripes than anything useful for photosynthesis.  As he knelt to pick some up, he realised that the entire forest smelt like them – a fresh, emerald sort of smell. They were pretty incredible, for leaves; Anakin had certainly never seen anything like them. He shoved some in a belt pouch.

Now that he was looking at the ground, he noticed wooden, grenade-like things peppered amongst the leaf litter. This forest kept on getting more and more curious. Unfortunately, none of them would fit in his pouches. Jedi really needed some good pockets that could fit any important scientific discoveries in them. It was a severe oversight, in Anakin’s humble opinion.

Something rustled abruptly, snapping Anakin out of his Jedi-like contemplations, seed-pod still in hand. He scanned the surrounding thickets. Plants, plants, leaves, plants, thorny plants…

Claws!

A blur of red flew at his face and he stumbled backwards, tripping over a bush. Batting the wild beast away from his face, he felt himself fall further than anticipated through the undergrowth into empty air. For a suspended moment, all he could see was blue sky and grey rockface. Then his back collided with something that promptly gave way and let him fall onto solid stone.

Perfect.

...

Obi-Wan Kenobi was walking at an unpanicked pace through the halls of the Jedi Temple and casually inspecting child-sized nooks and crannies in a manner completely befitting of a master who knew exactly where his padawan was. He had been doing this for half an hour and wasn’t shaking in the slightest.

He was just doing a routine inspection of the gap between a bronzium statue and a wall when Master Windu walked past, stopped, watched Obi-Wan innocently test the screws on a ventilation covering, and said, “Knight Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan sprang upright. “Master Windu.”

“Have you lost your padawan?” Was he really that obvious? No, that couldn’t be it; Master Windu was just unusually perceptive. Perhaps shatter-points were giving him away – nowhere was it written that they didn’t highlight underperforming masters. Even so, it was probably wise not to confirm anything. The last thing Obi-Wan needed was a council member judging his guardianship skills.

“Oh no, not at all. I know exactly where he is.”

Master Windu’s expression was as flat as Anakin’s heart rate would be once this was over. Shatter-points were dirty snitches.

“Thank you for your concern, Master,” added Obi-Wan, respectfully.

Master Windu looked at him dead in the eye for a solid five seconds. Obi-Wan had seen him level a similar look at Qui-Gon several times in the past, and found it unnerving to now be the target. However, Qui-Gon’s experiences taught him that it was best to ride these looks out like a bad spice trip, i.e. with as little motion as possible. How either of them knew what a bad spice trip felt like was irrelevant.

The five seconds were up, only having been slightly uncomfortably stretched, and Master Windu blinked.

“Well,” he said, dryly, “Good luck with your endeavours, Knight Kenobi, whatever they may be.” With one spare glance to the ventilation covering, he continued down the corridor.

Obi-Wan was not naive enough to think himself completely free of suspicion but he was hopeful that nothing would come of it until he could thrust Anakin by the shoulders into Master Windu’s personal space and say ‘See? I have him right here!’ in a serene and Jedi-like manner as if he had nothing to prove. Of course, he would like to prove his capabilities anyway. Just as soon as Anakin was present…

He closed his eyes and fumbled for the Master-Padawan bond that connected him to Anakin. It wasn’t usually strong enough to get much other than vague impressions from, but now it seemed to be stretched thinner than usual, only telling him that Anakin was alive. That was a relief to know, to an extent, but also concerning since there was so little to point him in the right direction. He poked the bond and felt nothing.

Why had he taken on a padawan? Padawans get into fights and then run off and make you worry and then the Council finds out and then you have to try and justify it all and – 

Obi-Wan sighed. Running a hand over his beard, he peered down the hallway that Master Windu had taken. Empty. He could probably make it to the comms centre without any more councilmembers calling him out.

Probably. He was hopeful.

...

“Hilari? Is that you?” 

Anakin looked up from what appeared to be a now-dismantled porch tarp and saw an old man opening the door to its attached house, carved into rock. A tooka was watching him from behind the man’s legs. It meowed indignantly.

“I’ve told you, the awning isn’t designed for tookas.”

“Myaeeh,” complained Hilari.

Anakin, frazzled from both of his unplanned descents and shocked out of his irritation, opened his mouth to apologise because yes, Obi-Wan he is capable of apologising when a middle-aged twi’lek woman materialised.

“Wohrin, what– Oh! Who’s your young friend?”

“You’ve met Hilari before, Mahj–”

“No, the young man covered in your porch. Blond?” 

The man, Wohrin, gave Mahj’s left lek an exasperated look. His eyes were pale the same way Blind Man Mikah’s had been in the bookmaker’s in Mos Espa.

“Mahj,” he said slowly, “I don’t know what colour your hair is, let alone that of whoever it is you’re referring to.”

Mahj shook her head. “I don’t have hair, Wohrin.”

“What?!”

Another twi’lek, who could have been anywhere between fifteen and thirty years old by Anakin’s poor judgement, appeared in order to chip in:

“Yeah, she lost all of her hair when the sky turned red!”

Anakin squinted at the sky… no, it was definitely still blue. Wohrin looked equally confused, which was somewhat reassuring. Somewhat.

“Keht!” snapped Mahj, “Stop lying to people! And no, Wohrin, you know I’m twi’lek; of course I don’t have hair.”

“Twi’leks don’t… Why am I only just learning this? Was no one going to tell me–”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Anakin effectively drew the growing crowd’s attention back to himself. That felt better. Wohrin blinked, only now registering that the crash hadn’t been his tooka after all. “I was in the woods and something jumped out at me and I fell through your… thing.”

“Oh, well,” huffed Wohrin, “Easily done I suppose.”

Anakin clambered to his feet and hopped away from the mess, feeling only slightly guilty.

“Hey what’s with the weird rat-tail, kid?” came a voice from the crowd.

Anakin fixed the human who had asked with a patronising look. He found such looks were incredibly effective when used by children – especially those younglings he was stuck in aurebesh lessons with three years ago. Kriffing infuriating.

“It’s not a rat-tail, it’s a braid. And it shows that I’m a padawan.”

“A what-a-wan?”

“Oh, I know what they are,” chimed another bystander, “One of them beat up my cousin on Alsakan. They’re like really small Jedi.”

“You mean an apprentice?”

“Yeah, only I don’t think they do carving work.”

“Not all apprentices learn stonemasonry, genius.”

Another crowd member interrupted: “Hey, cadaban, have you come to help with the beast?”

That triggered a fervour in the onlookers, all snapping their attention back to him with loud expectation.

“... The what?” Anakin wasn’t sure he liked the way this conversation was going.

“The beast!” exclaimed the crowd.

“It’s massive–”

“–Taller than me–”

“–Big claws–”

“–In the quarry–”

“–The mine–”

“–Tentacles–”

“–Blue–”

“–Hang on, I thought it was red–”

“–It’s invisible–!”

“–No, it’s not, it’s–”

“–Firebreathing!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” shouted Anakin over the clamour, “Has anyone here actually seen it?” Everyone turned to a tall ovissian, who flinched. “What does it look like?”

“Uh, I didn’t see much of it, just– um, mostly heard crashes and saw– saw rocks falling from the ceiling in the mines. But when I caught a glimpse, it sort of looked all–” He made a vague and thoroughly unhelpful gesture which may have indicated size. Or maybe temperament. “–Y’know?”

Anakin definitely did not know, but he wasn’t about to admit that to the congregation. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he said instead. The ovissian sighed with relief. “And what exactly do you need me to do about it?”

One exasperated person shouted from the back. “Kill it of course!” 

“Or at least move it out of the mines,” offered Mahj.

“Yeah, we need the mines or our economy will go to chisk!”

“The entire economy?” Anakin couldn’t imagine mines being quite that important when there was a massive forest right… Huh, it was higher up than he remembered. Right up a stone cliff, the one Wohrin’s home was carved out of.

“The entire economy! We’re a mining town, stone-masons and blacksmiths. Why else would build our houses in a quarry?”

This was the first Anakin had heard of ‘quarries’. Really, the whole trip so far had been quite the broadening of his horizons. He didn’t know why Obi-Wan didn’t take him off-world sooner, he was always promoting this kind of thing. Peculiar. 

That being said, this whole beast business was not what he had been anticipating and the idea of facing an invisible, firebreathing, tentacled monster on his own was suddenly way more terrifying than the plan of facing a horde of smugglers had been. What if it was like the krayt dragons of Tatooine, wild with impersonal ferocity and an appetite for small humans? That would be an incredibly anticlimactic end for the Chosen One; he was fully anticipating his death to be in a great ball of flame, Obi-Wan watching heartbroken as his awesome and flawless apprentice fulfils his destiny. That would be cool. Dying alone in a mine in the middle of nowhere would not be.

“Um… You know, beasts aren’t really my department. And… I don’t have my beast-removal equipment with me right now.” Airtight excuse. Foolproof.

“You’re just scared!” exclaimed someone who nobody asked.

“He’s not even a proper Jedi yet,” added someone else, “There’s no way he could take that thing on by himself, I bet he doesn’t even have a laser-sword!”

“Now, hold on–” All thoughts of avoiding the beast flew out of the metaphorical window. “I never said I wouldn’t do it! I have my lightsaber right here:”

The crowd stepped back as it ignited in his hand. Yeah, that’s right, he wasn’t some dumb initiate and this was his chance to prove it.

...

The comms centre had several private rooms for important calls and conferences. It also had better hardware than the commlinks Jedi took into the field.

Obi-Wan had plugged his own commlink into a rarely-used port in the console and tried to call Anakin. As he had expected, there was no answer. With the right tinkering of the console’s receiver, however, the target signal had been traced to a sparsely populated planet barely a minute up the Corellian Run. Kaidestal.

He fought the urge to slam his head against the console. If there was a licence for padawan ownership, his would be revoked any time now. Truly, he was having a fantastic day.

He wondered how Anakin had even got offplanet and then wondered why he was wondering. At this point, it was suffice to say, ‘Shit’s fucked’ and move on.

After a few moments of meditative breathing, he straightened up, unplugged his commlink, and whisked out of the comms centre. Knowing Anakin, there was little time before something disproportionately drastic happened. Force, what did he do to end up in this position?

Master Plo Koon was easy enough to locate, happening to be beside the bronzium statue Obi-Wan had been inspecting earlier. He watched as Obi-Wan covered the awkwardly long stretch of corridor in order to get within civil conversation range.

“Master Koon, I am taking a short trip to Kaidestal. I shall be back by nightfall.” He gave no reasons, the man of mystery that he was, and Plo didn’t seem to mind. Plo was one of the gentlest councilmembers and therefore the best one to inform of unannounced, unauthorised trips to obscure planets. Perhaps that was exploitative of him. Perhaps his padawan shouldn’t run away.

(Plo was one of the first to hear Mace’s gossip regarding Skywalker’s potential disappearance and therefore knew damn well what Obi-Wan was doing. Plo was not, however, a snitch. Besides, he liked Kenobi – the man had an excellent taste in drinks.)

Master Koon nodded slowly, “That seems reasonable. I’ve heard they do good stone carvings there.”

“Quite,” said Obi-Wan, impatiently – no, Jedi weren’t impatient. He was merely preoccupied.

“There’s a G8 light freighter in the hangar that you can use.” Plo shifted as if to move, but it was really more of an invitation to leave.

“Thank you, Master Koon.” Not at all in the headspace to overstay his welcome, Obi-Wan began to head towards the hangar.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, young one!” Plo called after him.

“Me too,” muttered Obi-Wan under his breath. He wasn’t that young; he was twenty-eight. He was, however, too young to be dealing with feral padawans that made him feel twice his age. Why did he ever pick up Anakin, anyway?

...

The mouth of the mine was carved into the wall at the bottom of the quarry. It was darker than a Tatooinian night and he was being pushed into it by a gaggle of villagers who didn’t seem to notice his apprehension. While this was ideal for the maintenance of his reputation, it also made things move far more quickly than he had wanted.

No matter. He was a Jedi and Jedi faced terrifying monsters head on.

“This beast is gonna wish he never saw me,” he said, bravely, “Coward. Absolute… kriffin’…  clown.”

“What are you doing?”

“Old Jedi trick, it’s called psychological warfare. That beast is no match for Anakin kriffing Skywalker.”

“Is the swearing necessary for psychological warfare?” asked one of the group. “It’s just I brought my daughter along…”

A roar emanated from the mine ahead, echoing terribly. The tall ovissian, now wearing his head miner’s helmet, was shaking more than the nine-year-old behind him. She was delighted by the mine monster and had spent much of the walk loudly exclaiming that she wanted it to eat the entire goddamn quarry. No one else appeared to share her enthusiasm.

“Well,” said the head miner, sounding awfully authoritative, “I think you’ll be able to find your way from here. We need to go. For… health and safety reasons. Yeah, this crowd, in this passageway? Major fire hazard. Need to clear it. I’ll take care of that, you take care of–” Another roar erupted, punctuated by a thud and the sound of rocks falling. “– That.”

Anakin was unimpressed. “Ugh, do you have to have such an aversion to being cool?” He turned to see the group’s response but found the passageway empty. He rolled his eyes. Teenagehood would suit him well, he decided.

Slowly, he took his new lightsaber off his belt. It kind of sucked that his excellent craftsmanship was impossible to see in the gloom. Alone, in the dark, with no eyes on him, he could admit that quite a few things were looking decidedly uncool right now, but Force if he didn’t want to prove Obi-Wan wrong.

He tracked the sporadic tremors to their source, which was conveniently down the single, unbranching passageway in this section of mine. Still, it required a great amount of skill and a lesser man would have walked into five support beams, which was way more than Anakin’s three. He was a credit to the Jedi Order, really, even if they couldn’t see it.

Speaking of, the mine had grown far darker the further he walked until he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face. The Force was being unhelpful, merely suggesting ‘forward’, which was a no-brainer. His issue was all of the obstacles involved with ‘forwards’. If only he had packed a light.

Hang on.

Oh, Anakin Skywalker was a genius. Lateral thinking and creative problem-solving had always been his strong point, as currently being demonstrated.

His lightsaber ignited with a kzhhh. Its electric-blue glow lit his maniacal grin in harsh clarity. It also revealed the glinting eyes of something big. The grin dropped from his face as he took five steps backwards.

The passageway had opened into a small cavern without him noticing and the beast barely fit into it. Colours were difficult to make out in eerie saber-light, but its fur appeared as black as the mines, matte with dust. Large tentacles stretched out from its nose, blindly groping the walls and ceiling of the cavern as if trying to judge the environment. Massive, shovelling paws held claws almost as long as Anakin was tall. In short, it resembled a mole.

This meant that, theoretically, Anakin was at an advantage since he was decidedly not blind and had only been known to resemble a mole some of the time.

The beast was also more clumsy than Anakin, knocking support beams left and right. Luckily, none had completely shattered but, judging by their splintering fractures, it was only a matter of time. Time limits were very dramatic; this would be a worthy first mission.

Anakin waved his lightsaber in the vague direction of the mole. It was unbothered. He frowned, put out, and then poked one of its claws. Suddenly, the beast was very bothered. Its nose went from snuffling around to being thrust in Anakin’s face. Apparently it had his scent. Obi-Wan would have blamed it on Anakin’s infrequent use of the shower. Anakin would have responded that he grew up in the desert and then accused him of not caring about wasting water on trivial matters. This would put a glint of annoyance in Obi-Wan’s eyes and Anakin would count it as a victory.

The mole exploited his distraction, dishonourable as it was, yanking him off the ground with a thick face-tentacle and shaking him irritably. He tried hitting the disgustingly writhing mass with the hilt of his lightsaber – ineffective. Then he slashed it with the blade and got catapulted into a wall. His vision failed and the back of his head killed, but he was quickly grabbed by the ankle and dragged across the floor. Massive, sharp claws came swinging at him. This was not good.

Quick, what would Obi-Wan do?

“Hey, you suck!” he shouted, voice wobbling as he dove out of the way of another slash, “No one likes you! You should just stop and go away!”

The mole monster may also have been deaf since it only continued its previous level of violence despite the scathing insults. He dodged a claw, jumping into a swinging tentacle which smashed him into a support beam. Splinters pierced his robes, digging into his right arm as it collided with the beam. His lightsaber flew from his hand and he fell to the ground, spinning to narrowly avoid landing on the hurt arm. All light in the cavern vanished as his saber-blade extinguished.

All of a sudden, the lightsaber argument from that morning felt like a moot point. A lot of things were looking very moot now, in the dark. 

He could hear the shuffle of tentacles searching the floor and the scratching of claws against stone. The mole was snuffling loudly around for him. His arm hurt.

Fighting the urge to curl up by the wall, he slowly climbed to his feet and looked the monster dead where he thought its eye could be. Warm air huffed in his face, blowing his braid back. Everything was still for a moment and then a tentacle whipped around his knees and flipped him upside down into the air. He definitely did not yelp.

The sound of a lightsaber igniting came from the tunnel, then pounding footsteps and then Obi-Wan ran in, illuminating the cavern walls around him. Something intangible yanked Anakin out of the mole’s grasp and into Obi-Wan’s arms. 

Anakin struggled to escape the strong left arm that wrapped across his torso, efficiently immobilising him. “Hey, I had it under control, you know.” He gave up, reaching his good hand out and calling his lightsaber back to it. “Still do, actually.”

“Sure,” replied Obi-Wan, not letting go even as a tentacle lunged at him. He jumped backwards, slashing the support beam that Anakin had dented. They dove into the tunnel as the cavern rumbled. The mole roared back. There was a terrible creaking of splintering wood and then the cavern ceiling fell in. Dust and rock made the air thick.

Quiet.

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan from where he was pressed against his chest and saw a strangled sort of sorrow.

“Poor thing,” croaked Obi-Wan. Then he looked at Anakin with a clenched jaw. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those. I could have studied it.”

It was almost enough to make Anakin apologise.

...

Obi-Wan dragged his padawan by his collar until they reached the mine’s entrance. The villagers who had pointed him inside were crowded around and erupted into cheers as soon as they stepped into the light.

One elbowed the head miner playfully. “Told you he was the madawan’s Jedi.”

“Shut up,” said the ovissian, who then raised his voice above the chattering. “Thank you, Master Jedi, for your assistance. Uh, what exactly is the status of the, uh…”

“It’s dead,” Obi-Wan replied, bluntly, “And I’m afraid you may also need to reinforce the tunnel’s structural integrity. I apologise on behalf of my padawan –”

“Hey!”

“Of course, he will also apologise himself.”

Their eyes met in a match of wills. Anakin sighed, just loud enough for Obi-Wan to hear, and acquiesced.

“My sincere apologies,” he muttered, bowing shallowly. Obi-Wan had definitely taught him better manners than this; the child was just showing him up. Ungrateful womp-rat.

Fortunately, the villagers weren’t versed in bows and didn’t seem invested in apologies. Most were preoccupied by the mine and the new lack of angry mole. Small blessings, perhaps.

...

After manhandling the still-hot wreck of Anakin’s Aethersprite into the freighter Obi-Wan had brought and flying the brief trip back to the Temple, Obi-Wan was reaching the end of his patience. He left the ships with the hangar’s mechanics and dragged Anakin away from any chance of helping them. Their trip to the Halls of Healing were brief – the healers were efficient in removing the splinters and wrapping Anakin’s arm in bacta-soaked bandages. He only complained about half as much as he usually did.

They marched double-time to their rooms and Obi-Wan locked the door behind him; he could not cope with Anakin sneaking out at night.

“Master?” The voice was small. Obi-Wan tried not to let his ire show in his look. Perhaps if Anakin was squinting it would work. He was not. Instead he was holding out a hand full of pine needles and another with several small pinecones. “While I was on that planet, I found these for you to study. I’ve never seen them before; they could be revolutionary.”

Obi-Wan sighed, not having the heart to tell him that pine trees were fairly common throughout the galaxy. Anakin dropped his revolutionary finds into his hands, having to scrape off some of the pine needles that stuck.

“Thank you, Padawan. That was very thoughtful of you.”

“There were some bigger ones of these,” he added, pointing to the pinecones, “but I couldn’t fit them in my belt and some of the wildlife tried to fight me for them.”

“A squirrel?”

“I dunno, I didn’t see it very well. It was kinda fast. Reminded me of you, a bit.”

“How so?”

“Red,” said Anakin, nodding to Obi-Wan’s head, “And it didn’t like me picking up things off the floor.”

Obi-Wan huffed. “As long as you weren’t trying to eat pinecones.”

“Is that what they’re called?”

“Yes. Although I suppose I’d have to… study them. To make sure.”

Anakin’s face lit up. “Wizard.”

Obi-Wan’s annoyance was almost forgotten. Not quite. He was still a responsible Jedi master, no matter what the Council speculated.

There was a knock on the door. Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, who grimaced back. He opened it with very little hesitation.

“Knight Kenobi.” Speak of a Sith…

“Master Windu,” said Obi-Wan, far more brightly than he was feeling.

“Have you located your padawan?”

“Of course; he’s right here, Master.” He pulled Anakin out from behind his legs. Anakin attempted a winning smile, but nerves appeared to crumple it slightly. He had always been intimidated by Master Windu – first impressions were a force to be reckoned with. “I knew exactly where he was.” It was technically true, if you were selective about your timeframe.

Master Windu gave Anakin one of his signature piercing gazes, the kind that seems to expose one’s every weakness and warn against them. Anakin seemed to get the message. Hopefully he would keep it for at least a week before he inevitably threw it out.

“If that’s the case, I won’t need to launch a search party. Good night, Kenobi.”

“May the Force be with you, Master Windu.”

After Master Windu had left and Anakin had gone to bed still shaken from the encounter, Obi-Wan contemplated ditching the Temple and his wayward padawan for Bail Organa’s whiskey collection. Alderaan always made the best whiskey…

...

Art by me, @dib-leo-pard​

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