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#ego's still my main boy i just wanted some variety
xxgothchatonxx · 2 years
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OKAY NEW MID SEASON, LET’S GO!!! (Apologies for absolutely attacking you today. I don’t know what took over me, but I felt safe in your ask box today)
The Great Red Dragon:
* SEXY. CELL. SEXY. CELL. SEXY. CELL! You aren’t Hannibal Lecter!!! You’re just Some Guy. Who has a really cute scar. Never mind. He will be our main baddie. That’s our dragon, babes.
* And he does yoga in his little A-frame. Go off, dancer. Get in position!
* Not gonna lie, if he wasn’t holding his hand on his back, I would be so relaxed in that position. I love me a good stretch.
* I fucking love this score. We have percussion, we have little clicks. We have some fucking nail now? We’re industrial. We have a tattoo. And some teeth. Not as sharp as I would assume.
* Oh, this is some good shit. This is a fucking thespian. We got some method acting bullshit right here.
* I don’t like the score anymore. I got really loud at the end.
* Damn, all of that before we’ve even hit the credits. That’s how you open!
* John Mulaney voice: “I was a French maid for a period of time. I was treated well in my day. I worked for a variety of sirs. (Please tell me you understand that reference!)
* Altar boy needs some Chapstick
* Hannibal got a haircut! Is this after you’ve escaped from your sexy glass cell?
* We have our sexy glass cell, people! This man is so fucking pretentious, I love him.
* Oh that’s right, we have a time jump.
* Everyone’s fav: Bâtard-Montrachet & tartuffi bianchi!!
* AND ALANAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!
* Alana Bloom is a wine bitch now. I have WON.
* “Who.”
* I see that Hannibal has entered the maladaptive daydreaming section of neurodivergency (that can’t be how do you spell it. That looks fake. But it’s also almost 2 AM. Sue me.)
* “A baker’s dozen. Lest we forget Mason Verger –– you’re welcome.” Bastard. BASTARD! THANK YOU, ALANA!!!!!
* That has got to be his worst sketch to date. I am so sorry, Alana.
* She’s so hot. Fuck. And then she sits back down and crosses her leg. She wants me dead!
* It’s OK, baby. Take your time. No need for a self infliction, take your time.
* NOPE NOPE NOPE NO YOWLING PLEASE I DO NOT LIKE THAT!!!!!
* Is this another one of Hannibal‘s monsters that he let go? First that boy that became a wolf. And now there’s a dragon man dripping in black goop.
* Just a little bit of a bloody chocolate.
* WITH FREDICK, YEAH! And the bastard is back to grinning.
* I have to agree with Fredick here. “Colons lose their novelty went overused.”
* And I take it we have a new murderer with adoring fans. “The Tooth Fairy.“ Cute. Ego begets Transformation or some such. Hannibal isn’t happy with his spotlight fading.
* The Tooth Fairy: The Everyman’s American Murderer BITCH LET ME WRITE YOUR SNAPPY BOOK TITLES!!!
* Alana has a fun new gig. Good for her.
* And he is still writing! At least it keeps him busy?
* I question whether or not I agree with Fredericks line. “Everything he writes is always about a problem he does not have.” This is always been something very difficult for me too talk about. Which is why I always like to do the old “write what you know,” because it’s simply easier to put something together off of your own experience. Hannibal however, is so knowledgeable on psychiatry and on the local psycho that lives next-door, so it makes sense for him to be able to constantly have pieces flowing for other people to inspect and the door. But! I feel like it is always better to go to the source.
* Do we have hallucinations?
* How cute, they are saving their own little scraps. Each for ego, no doubt. One for inspiration, one for grand transformation.
* And it seems like he is a fan of our man. Isn’t that nice?
* Oh shit. He’s writing the letter. Do not cut to commercial, you bastards! DAMN IT!
* AHHHHH THE DOGGIES!!!! & Mr. Chocolate Lab himself, Will Graham!
* AND JAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK YESSSSSSSS! I know that it’s never good news, but I just love seeing them together!
* We have a treehouse. And a Molly & Walter.
* And Will never really quit his day job at the FBI, it seems.
* Don’t lie to Molly, Lawrence Fishburne. If you fuck Will up again, we will all come for you. Make no mistake about that!
* I got to admit, I do love the little cottage. It’s adorable. Not so little, but very cute.
* Please tell me it’s a letter? YEEEEEEEEESSS LETS GOOOOOOOO (I mainly excited because I know that this will lead to a Bedelia and Will therapy session. But I also Love that Hannibal is still doing this lovely little hand written letter to his ex.)
* “It’s dark on the other side. And madness is waiting.” UGH I LOOOOOOOOVE THAT!!
* Buffalo? How the hell were they able to triangulate that??
* WHO LEAVES A BABYBEL HALF EATEN??
* Yucky bloody bare feet.
* What are those little shards? Those thin straight lines? It’s really from the shots? We’re getting artistic with our deaths the season.
* And I love how this man just absolutely hates being perceived.
* Oh shit, it’s string! I told you it was weird!
* William, do you want to take some deep breath‘s or do you just wanna leave this place forever? Whatever works for you, babe.
* Holy fuck. We are back at the beginning. With my least favorite noise in the world. Or at least, in the show. Damn pendulum.
* Will seems more scared now. I don’t mean to say that like he’s out of practice, because that is partially it, but when you tried for so long and for so hard to stay away from this past. It’s just so sad. What do you do when you are so good at something that you know is destroying you?
* Are the mirrors his tea cup?
* We have wings! We have red, sharp, wings.
* The forensic scientist! He looks more like an English professor now.
* & Freddie Lounds! Now doubt with her shitty blowout. That’s certainly going to be disappointing.
* And this guy is there too! Absolutely terrible that I don’t know their names, they’re funny, I just don’t care about them.
* I do love the forensic science bits. Always fun for everyone involved.
* Will is back with the gang!
* I mean, we all know he steals teeth so then he can’t be found that way. It’s very fun!
* Remind me to turn the volume down whenever the red dragon is on screen so then I don’t get a headache. Hate this score.
* Why does keep looking at me?
* Holy shit. IS HE MUTE??? He looked over at the dentures and saw them vibrating from whatever. Which would also explain the shushing. I’m going to assume that he has a hearing impediment.
* I like this suspended in space file-of-the-family kind of thing.
* Laurence Fishburne: try your best, buddy. Maybe if you do then you can go back to your simple little life. And leave this one that I have dragged you into. For the third time.
* Holy fuck. We just got a fade to black into a reunion with the ex-boyfriends. There has never been anything more queer-coded than that.
Calling Francis Dolarhyde (I think that name is a spoiler for you... sorry 😂) a "method actor" might be the best thing I have ever heard with regards to this character 😂 (please note for people who are reading this - Nat and I know that Richard Armitage isn't a method actor/wasn't method acting, tis just a joke) But unlike NBC Joker, Francis is an infinitely more sympathetic villain. Still disturbing as hell because, well, it's Hannibal, but you know.
Now we have come to one of my favourite personas of Mads Mikkelsen as Hannibal Lecter - the quantifiably bitchy incarcerated Hannibal the Cannibal. Good god, we get some high quality sass from this lad, I promise you that.
And yes, Alana as a wine-drinking girlboss is everything
From a storytelling standpoint, I love that we've kind of gone back to the start with Jack bringing Will in and fucking up his stability. But what I love about this version of the Red Dragon story (cos this is the third time it's been adapted) is that the show seems to be more blatantly side-eying Jack for doing this to Will. They even call him (and Alana) out on it, which I love.
Also I do love that the show finishes with the Red Dragon story, cos this was the first book Thomas Harris wrote in the Hannibal series... I'm still pissed off it got cancelled after this season but oh well 😂
But yes, MURDER HUSBAND REUNION NEXT!!!
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purplesurveys · 1 year
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1582
satiating my craving for bts-related questions part 2/5
We start with the basics: Your bias(es)? Your bias wrecker? Bias would be Namjoon, bias wrecker has long been Yoongi.
The music that made you discover BTS? This is always a difficult question to answer because it wasn’t their music that got me into them, but their variety/reality shows that allowed me to know more about them in less rigid/polished situations...but I guess the song that decisively turned me into a fan is Life Goes On. I burst into tears when I heard the lyrics for the first time.
Favorite album? I am forever the biggest cheerleader there is for Map of the Soul: 7.
Top 5 favorite songs? I have a top 2 – Butterfly and Sea – but top 5 is kinda difficult because after those two songs I love all their other stuff equally hahaha. Keeping it to OT7 songs, I’d say other songs that can make the cut would be Autumn Leaves, Blood, Sweat & Tears, and Spring Day.
Favorite solo song from BTS albums? Namjoon: Reflection.  Jin: Epiphany Yoongi: First Love Hobi: Outro: Ego Jimin: Serendipity Taehyung: It’s a very difficult choice between Singularity and Stigma, but I think I’ll go with Stigma because of his amazing falsetto towards the end. Jungkook: My Time.
Favorite solo song out of BTS albums? Namjoon: everythingoes and Bicycle. Jin: ABYSSSSSSSS. Do covers also count? Because his rendition of Autumn Outside the Post Office is beautiful. Yoongi: The Last. Hobi: Blue Side for days. Jimin: With You. Taehyung: Winter Bear. Jungkook: Still With You.
Favorite mixtape? It was Hope World for a while, but mono has since crept up to be my favorite. I listen to the mixtape from start to finish every Sunday evening because it helps calm me down when I start thinking about work.
Favorite friendship? Taejin is my main ~ship because 1) I feel like their friendship is the least focused-on, and I love me some underrated duos lol, and 2) They’re the only ones who have actually fought on camera, and there’s just something about that that made me admire their dynamic more?
I love Yoonjin’s friendship for the Yoongi’s-only-hyung bond; Namkook because of the massive amount of respect that friendship contains; Yoonkook because I like the fact that Yoongi lets Jungkook get away with everything that the other boys can’t; and I love the closeness from the 94z and 95z.
Favorite BTS meme? Everytime the Run BTS editors portray the boys with their souls leaving their body after having done something scary or stressful.
Favorite MV? Pretty basic and expected answer but I’ll have to go with BST.
Which member personality is like yours? So I feel like I would jibe with Namjoon the most. He’s an extroverted dude who likes to meet new people; goes out every chance he gets regardless of how much he’s worked and socialized in the past few days; and visiting museums and other cultural spots is his pastime. He also loses everything he owns and breaks everything he touches...at this point, I am convinced I am pretty much just a girl version of him lol.
Jimin also! As a big extrovert himself I feel like we could easily hit it off. He strikes me as someone who’s super chill and can create lots of fun wherever he is and whoever he’s with.
Which member’s style you like the most? I mean I think all Armys are in agreement when we say that Hobi has the finest fashion sense of all the members.
Who's the funniest member? This title goes to both Jin and Jungkook.
Who's the most comforting for you? Namjoon, which I feel like comes out naturally due to his being the leader; and Yoongi, since he is also the most realistic of the boys. He’s the first person to tell you it’s okay to fuck up, be lost, have to give up on your passions for a while, etc because you will eventually find your way.
Who could be the scariest when he's pissed off? I feel like a lot of people would say Hobi, but have you seen Jimin when he gets less-than-happy? He was never the type to hide his annoyance on camera and I wouldn’t want to piss him off lmao. He’s thrown glares and pursed lips towards the members that would otherwise make me feel like want to shrink lol. 
Smile you like the most? Taehyung’s.
Laugh you like the most? There have to be multiple winners for this lmao because Hobi’s, Jimin’s, Jin’s, and Jungkook’s laughs all make me laugh myself.
Voice you like the most? Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s for reasons any other fan would know lol.
Eyes you love the most? Jungkook’s.
Which song can make you cry? (solo/group) Answer: Love Myself.
Which song make you happy? (solo/group) Dimple, because I have one lol
Which song to kick asses? UGH!, or Tear.
Which song to party? Home and Love Maze are perfect for my type of party.
Which song make you feel invincible? Idol and Run BTS.
Sexiest song? Singularity.
Lyrics that touched you the most? From 00:00 –
When the second hand and the minute hand overlap, The world holds its breath for a very brief moment Zero o’clock And you’re gonna be happy, and you gonna be happy Like that snow that just settled on the ground, Let’s breathe as if this is the beginning And you’re gonna be happy, and you gonna be happy Turn this all around A time when everything is new, zero o’clock
Best live performance at an award ceremony? Their 2016 MAMA performance was great overall but I’m particularly a sucker for the Boy Meets Evil/Lie mashup intro that Jihope did. 2019 MMA of course has since evolved to become one of their must-watches and is my absolute favorite.
Best choreography? Fire and Mic Drop.
One of your favorite moments on Vlive? When 95z took over Namjoon’s live and pretended to be expensive sculptures, and Namjoon played along with the gimmick hahaha. Taehyung forcing Yoongi to spit out “I love you” during the latter’s birthday was hilarious too.
The moment you laughed the most with them? Probably the photozone episode of Run BTS. I made SO MUCH noise when I watched that for the first time.
The moment you cried the most with them? I wasn’t there to cry with them then, but it was the moment they gave their speech at the 2018 MAMA especially when Jin mentioned the band had been thinking of breaking up. I know 2018 was mentally the toughest for the boys and the fans so I can’t even imagine what winning all those awards meant for them that night.
Your favourite BTS memory?  Deciding that I was going to be a fan right after I heard Life Goes On for the first time.
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teyvatdreams · 3 years
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idol!au headcanons
includes: 4NEMO (aether, venti, kazuha, xiao)
a/n: heavily inspired by kpop stan culture + the group name and characters included is not my original idea! just adding onto the existing au :-)
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aether — center, vocal, youngest
is the center of the group
but he always fights venti for the face of the group
(venti swears it’s him but everyone knows its aether)
this poor baby is so shy
the other members will purposely flirt with him just to see him get flustered
at fansigns? this boy is a MESS
face red, constantly trying to hide his embarrassment
but he also loves interacting with the fans, holding their hands and complimenting them
he posts selfies relatively often, at least once or twice a week
he posts a lot of clips of him singing as well
on variety shows they force him to do aegyo because he’s just so cute
he absolutely hates it but does it with a smile just to get a reaction out of everyone
he gets put on variety shows with lumine, who is a solo artist, a lot because people love their dynamic
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venti — main vocal
his energy is truly unmatched
and it’s super contagious
some people swear that xiao has dual personalities depending on whether or not venti is there
venti takes the most selfies, he uploads some to 4NEMO’s social media accounts atleast 4 times a week
along with cover videos with somehow a new instrument every time??
everyone swears he knows how to play every instrument ever
like venti’s stans are so well fed
venti is known for being hilarious
when he’s on variety shows he could literally breathe and the hosts would probably cry laughing
and the rest of the group is just like ??? don’t boost his ego like that
his aegyo is fine but it’s way too dramatic and cheesy that it makes people cringe
but he does it regardless bc thats what he wants (and aether cheers him on in hopes that he won’t have to do it himself)
like he’s honestly just a Menace and the fans love it
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kazuha — main dancer, sub vocalist, rapper
he’s kind of mysterious?
like maybe it’s because venti and aether tell their fans everything that they know almost nothing about kazuha
he’s sneaky too
if he sees a fansite in the crowd u know he’s making eye contact with that camera
he posts a few selfies a month, nothing too crazy
but when he does all of his stans will change their profile picture to the selfie
he mostly posts dance practice videos/covers
his stage presence is fantastic
a fancam of him went viral bc of his effortless dancing and his facial expressions
he is the king of random play dances on variety shows
he is the biggest l/yue stan and he does Not care who knows it
fans will try to flirt with him and make him blush
but it never works
if u try to flirt with kazuha rest in peace bc 1. he’ll make you blush instead and 2. he’ll remember you if you come to another fansign and compliment you
“i must be irresistible, huh?”
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xiao — main rapper, lead dancer, and composer
if u thought kazuha was mysterious…. xiao is worse
one selfie a month if you’re lucky
the stans are like ??? is he okay where is he
he’s fine, just busy writing probably
he produced a lot of the group’s songs so if u need him he’s most likely in his studio
and the he suddenly remembers oh yeah the fans probably want to see me… here’s a selfie
he takes one selfie. probably using the instagram camera. and posts it
and he looks amazing
and the fans eat it up
tbh he prefers to do livestreams bc he can talk to the fans but still be productive
he has an intimidating aura to him, however the fans know him as the cutest little rapper imaginable
they spoil him rotten despite him saying they don’t have to
they love to give him gifts at fansigns like little headbands or sunglasses because he wears them all until he receives the next one
plus he’s super sweet to fans he makes it hard to not be so popular
he’s quiet during interviews just because they’re all so energetic but he has his moments where he’s even louder than them and making jokes and laughing
and Everyone loves it
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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years
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Majority of people friendzone VMIN, even though they're clearly sweeter/softer compared to other ships. But do you think, JM and V likes it that way? I mean, bec people friendzone them, they can somehow freely do anything with lesser suspicions. They can getaway with handholding or any other actions that can seem "too romantic" for some. What do you think?
This is a really interesting question and we’ll admit we’ve thought and talked about it a couple of times before. And we agree. Especially if you take Friends into consideration which, on a marketing and PR level, was a genius move on both Jimin’s (and Tae’s) but also BHs part. By giving the song such a name, it validated certain people’s opinion that “they are just friends”, highlighting the age old agenda of downplaying vmin interactions, as a large portion of the fandom do, so that now, like you said, they can hold hands or do other cute things together and they don’t have to worry about anyone suspecting anything, besides maybe vminnies but in comparison there are far fewer of us. We’ve seen countless instances where the comment section under a cute/soft vmin picture or video were filled with “awww they are such cute friends” and “aww they remind me of me and my sister” type replies, while if you look at similar pictures/videos of any other two members, the comments are filled to the brim with “awww boyfriends” or “x and x are so married, look how cute they are”.
The thing is that, in a way, Friends and the “vmin are just besties” agenda have fulfilled several different purposes, besides being a song that celebrates their bond (being the primary point of it all). What we mean is more about how by “confirming” vmin as “just” friends, it gave certain people a sense of security, as in that vmin are no longer a “threat” to their fantasies, but also a feeling of security that “if they are just friends than that means they are not gay and I can continue liking them and B/TS” (yes, I’ve seen such comments and they left me feelings very yikes as well). And those are just a few examples.
Let’s look at the way Friends was performed at BangBangCon. Jimin and Tae wore their former school uniforms, had dumpling props, and the stage was designed to mimic the bus stops for their school but also where BH used to be. Through this they’ve essentially created this vision and idea in people’s minds that “aw they are such cute school friends” (you can find comments like that on all possible sns platforms under any and all vmin content that reaches past just vminnies). They knew many won’t go read the lyrics and thus won’t know how meaningful and deep they are, most just heard a happy, upbeat song along with seeing that stage performance, and voila the “vmin friends” agenda is thriving.
But, in the grand scheme of things, even if some of this might sound a little harsh or stupid (which it is), it makes sense if you remember how private Jimin is about his private life (here’s a great review of Friends that goes into detail about Jimin in this context), how he rarely shares anything truly personal with us, and he himself once said that he doesn’t like sharing his favorite things and people (Winter Bear or “Go play with your hwarang hyungs”). Tae might seem a bit more open when it comes to gushing about Jimin, and yet even he still chooses his words very wisely, carefully, and says just enough for us to understand what he means yet without giving away any too specific details. So, by creating Friends and playing into that idea that some in the fandom already had/have, they’ve created this kind of shield for themselves behind which they can hide and feel safe, at least to a certain degree. They can do and say a lot of things, and yet no one really pay attention to it, like Tae asking Jimin to come sleep next to him, which has a variety of implications, very meaningful ones at that. And yet most have already forgotten that, or not even noticed that being said to begin with. 
Remember that song Tae shared with us on twitter? About the umbrella? How he wants to protect his love with an umbrella? Which is also a motif that shows up on the cover of Snow Flower as well? Friends and the “vmin are just besties” agenda are like that umbrella. 
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Also, I (Admin 2) don’t know if you’ve noticed this but occasionally/often times when Jimin initiates some form of physical contact with Tae, he tends to look as though beyond the camera like he’s trying to see if it’s okay or if he isn’t going too far, you know what I mean? Or that time at MOTS ON:E at the end of EGO where Jimin was playing around with Tae yet straightened up and pretended like nothing happened the second he realized they were on camera. Or during the Break the Silence: Persona movie commentary when Jimin was laughing and threw himself toward Tae’s lap, he turned his head toward the staff and cameras, thus remembered they are not alone, and quickly moved back to his spot on the sofa. That makes me wonder if there aren’t also people at BH who control/oversee this aspect of things as well when it comes to vmin, while not necessarily doing the same things with other members. If maybe the whole idea behind it is to keep the main ships going while “hiding” (and by that I don’t mean that ridiculous theory of hiding one gay ship with another because we all know that’s stupid) the one that is/has potentially to actually be real as to not ruin it or pull it onto a level of potentially coming across as just fan service or boys being silly with each other as well.
To sum all of this up, we agree and we think that Tae and Jimin are surely in favor of being friend zoned by most since it means no one (or at least fewer people than with others in a similar context) is trying to push themselves into their bond, to pry at their privacy and do with them what they do with others, as in create some kind of warped version that has nothing to do with the truth or reality. Besides, even if vmin are real, it doesn’t change the fact that they are best friends/chingu as well. So really, it isn’t the kind of drag or downgrade people might think it is since really, the strongest romantic bonds are built on deep friendship, and it seems like Tae and Jimin have built themselves a very strong foundation, one that the notion of friend zoning them will never be able to shake or break. After all 95z is love.
Thank you for the great question!
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siennahrobek · 3 years
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Warning - This is long
Chapter 11 – Saudade
Future Past
18 BBY
Luke is One year old
“Well, this is it. This is now my life,” Obi-Wan said, standing in the middle of his little hut, in the middle of the desert. There was nothing here, just sand and rock and bones. It would have been nice, a quiet place to meditate, if there wasn’t the looming threat of the empire, or the grief of losing the entirety of his people or the oppressive twin suns of the planet.
Perhaps if he left now, he could catch up with the resident herd of banthas. The nomadic life sounded fairly appealing at the moment.
“You know, when I said I wanted to just spend some time meditating in a cave, this is not what I meant,” he pointed out to the air. He wasn’t actually talking to anyone, he didn’t think anyone had even been listening. After all, he really was by himself.
“I’d say it is nicer than a cave.”
Until now, Obi-Wan’s old master didn’t really make casual conversation so his appearance, or rather, voice coming from thin air was a bit on the unexpected side. Their talks were mostly of the teaching variety.
He wondered what changed.
Perhaps it was him.
Maybe he was going crazy, and Master Jinn had to do something rather desperate so Obi-Wan wouldn’t lost his mind completely. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
“I think I need a hobby,” the new hermit said with a nod. Yes, that seemed right.
“Do you really think you are going insane?”
Obi-Wan scowled, glancing around as if the speaking person would appear. Qui-Gon didn’t really appear, at least not in a way that Obi-Wan could see. He just heard his voice, clear as day. Or rather, clear as crystal or water or clear things. He didn’t know. Sometimes it felt hard to think. “Don’t read my mind,” he grumbled.
“I am apparition of the Force,” the voice was flat and steady, nearly laced intricately with sarcasm. Of course. “I couldn’t read minds when I was alive, what makes you think I can do it dead?”
The physically living master huffed, loud and dramatic, waving his arms as if that would make his point. “I don’t know what ghosts can do!” he nearly shouted. It wasn’t like anyone else could hear him. Even the closest person was many, many miles away.
Obi-Wan could almost hear his former master roll his eyes and feel his sarcasm and mock distain rise. “I’m not reading your mind. I can’t do that. I just know you.”
“I have changed a lot in the past fifteen years,” he shot out.
“Not as much as you think,” Qui-Gon hummed, a bit vaguely amused. His voice had quieted, softened but it still, as always, seemed so confident, so sure of himself. Obi-Wan wondered if he naturally had that type of pride and ego or if he had gotten it somewhere. Obi-Wan could probably use some of that, he mused as Qui-Gon continued to speak. “At your core, you are still the same. A jedi. Stubborn, protective, determined, persistent, good, kind, selfless. Just as you were as a padawan.” By the end of the list, Qui-Gon had almost, perhaps, sounded a bit even fond. Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure if he was a good judge of what it was.
“You did not see me that way.” The words were coming out when his brain had not given permission. It hardly mattered. Talking with ghosts.
“Now look who thinks he can read minds,” Qui-Gon contemplated, unperturbed and not so offended. He sounded a bit amused, like this was so ironic. He could find humor in anything, apparently, a skill Obi-Wan thought he once had. “I was very proud of you. I am still, exceedingly, proud of you.”
“Now I know I’m hallucinating,” he scoffed.
“Is it so hard to believe, of my pride? In you of all people?”
Yes, Obi-Wan thought. Of course, it is. How can anyone be proud of what he had done, of what had happened, what he had let happen? “You told me to train the boy,” he said, his voice strained and uneasy. He shook his head and fought back tears that threatened to leap forth from his eyes. “And look how that turned out? I did, I tried, I loved him. And now all the jedi are dead. The Sith have won and the galaxy has been left in oppressing darkness.”
There was a brief silence, a contemplation of words. “That is not your fault, Obi-Wan. You are not the one to blame. His choices were his own.” Qui-Gon’s voice was kind and soft, and Obi-Wan could just barely remember the few times, even early in his apprenticeship where Qui-Gon hadn’t been completely upset and regretful with him where he used that tone. When Obi-wan had a vision, or a dream, as Qui-Gon liked to call him. When Obi-Wan was scared and there was no immediate danger to Qui-Gon’s other loved ones. The beginning of their relationship had been more than just a little rocky but that just meant their bond had grown strong through those trials. It had taken long, and it had taken work, but eventually, they made it. And they had been amazing.
“I loved him,” Obi-Wan groaned. “I did not see what he had become.”
“No one had,” Qui-Gon replied, his voice lowering. “You did so well, Obi-Wan. You tried so hard. Better than I. You praised him when called for and treated him as a person, not just a vessel for a prophecy of old. You are not perfect, padawan mine, no one is. But this is not your fault.”
“I do not know why he did it,” Obi-Wan confessed, shaking his head at the truth. He didn’t know and he wondered why every day. Was his love not enough? “I continue to be blind when it comes to him.”
“The dark ide obscures so much, even of which is nearest to us,” Qui-Gon continued, in that teaching voice where Obi-Wan understood and didn’t understand at all. It was an odd thing to miss, he knew, but he did, all the same. “How can one see when something so beyond your control blocks it so thoroughly?”
The younger and not so dead master buried his face in his hands. “It is all gone now.”
“You aren’t. Hope isn’t.”
“Luke is alive,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Leia is alive. They…they are…”
“Hope,” Qui-Gon finished. “Not just for the galaxy either. They are hope for you.”
11 BBY
Luke is eight/nine years old
“Ben?”
He was sleeping on the floor again, Luke thought to himself as he padded out of his room and into the main part of the ship. The boy wasn’t entirely sure why. There was plenty of room with him in the little area Ben had designated for him. For Luke. He had his own room back on Tatooine with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru and it had been a lot bigger than this, but he didn’t mind. He found the smaller areas kind of cozy actually.
He had not slept well since Ben had come to take him away, after Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru went cold. At first, he had even tried to stay up, like Ben. But Ben must have some kind of superpower or something because no matter what he did, Luke could not stay up. He could not stay awake. Nightmares often plagued his sleeping times. And hyperspace was cold.
Ben looked up, his bleary gaze softening upon spotting Luke, and he moved himself into a seated position. “Are you alright?”
The child hugged himself, wrapping his arms around his torso in some kind of substitute for Ben’s cloak. He didn’t really want to admit to bad dreams. Surely almost being nine, was an age where he could deal with them. He shouldn’t be scared.
Ben, of course, knew anyways.
It was so wizard, the way he just knew things. Biggs was probably right; he must actuallybe a wizard.
“Nightmares?” Ben mused when Luke didn’t answer. “Dreams pass in time.”
Luke just nodded even though he didn’t really understand.
“But, I suppose, that is not so comforting in the moment, is it?” he hummed and stood up, his joints making gross cracking noises as he did. “Come, I will make you some tea. I have a blend that might help.”
Luke perked but tried to temper his excitement and interest. It had only been a week since Ben introduced him to the wonder and ability of tea. It’s warmth and ability to fight the cold of hyperspace. A week since Luke declared he wanted to try all of them.
It was a start.
The tea Ben gave him tasted different than the first one. Physically even warmer, something more soothing. It was calming and it felt like his heart and head were slowing down. It was not long until his eyes started to droop. And then, suddenly, it was like sleep felt like a good idea. He didn’t fear it as much or the nightmares.
He trusted Ben.
And if Ben said the tea would help, Luke would believe him.
Ben didn’t lie to him.
Afterwards, he led Luke back to his bunk and started to tuck him in, bringing blankets up his torso to his neck. Luke just tugged at the billowing sleeve of his robe, attempting to pull him down with him. Ben thought he was trying to get his attention. “Yes, Luke?”
“Stay with me?” he pleaded.
The older man hesitated but exhaled and nodded. “Okay, beacon. Okay.”
6 BBY
Luke is eleven years old.
“Alright Luke,” Ben smiled warmly, filling his presence with kindness and love, as much as he could imbue. The boy next to him, barely a mop of blonde hair visible, grinned and snuggled close to his side, curling even more under his large robe. He would have to get another one, Ben mused to himself. Luke was growing bigger every day and he seemed to really like hiding underneath there. Ben would have to compensate in the size of his robes as he grew.
They were on planet side and even spending a few nights there as of the moment. Stopping for supplies was often frequent and short. Usually if Ben was lucky, he could get a small job or do some things for people that would help him get resources, food or fuel. This planet, however, it had turned out, it was monsoon season and for the next few days, no one could even manage to get to or off the ground.
Ben had scrounged up enough credits to pay for a decent – but quite small – room, to wait out the worst of the storm. It was loud and the harsh semi-solid rain pounded against the roof and walls, wailing in some sort of sad and grieving song. It was a bit frightening to the youngster, but Ben was a bit amazed on the comfort Luke could find within Ben’s presence and at his side.
“We have quite some time to burn, and not a lot to do,” he offered, lightly, curling the blankets around them further and making sure the pillows were stacked up enough to support their weight on the bed. There was only one, but Luke was still rather small, and Ben wasn’t an overly large being, they could fit. Would you like to play Obnoxiously Long Explanations?”
Luke laughed, as he always did when he suggested that. The title was something that Luke himself had suggested after he asked a question and Ben had gone on a rather long tirade explanation on the subject. The boy’s attention had barely faltered, as the topic was rather of interest to him, but the next time it happened, Luke had used the term and it kind of stuck for those types of talks.
“Yes please!” he cheered, wriggling under his cloak and peering through, his blue eyes shining in excitement. He practically begged in that moment, squirming even further until Ben felt he could take no more. “Can I go first? Please? Please?”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, the lines around his eyes wrinkling in a true, genuine smile. Luke always wanted to go first, which Ben could understand. He was young, with many questions. Many questions, especially, since he knew what Ben was and that was a topic, he would constantly have questions for. “What would you like to know?”
“The Jedi!” Luke nearly screeched, his voice rising.
“Your father?” Ben asked, expectantly.
Vehemently, Luke shook his head. “No. Yours.”
That surprised Ben and for a moment, he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond; he did not know how. He was fairly certain that he had told Luke about the type of bonds and child rearing of the jedi. It was a bit more communal than most places, as force sensitives more often than not, faired better with their own, together in groups. “I have no father,” he decided on.
Luke was not deterred, and his tone just grew in excitement and impatience. He was trying to get his point across, surely. “Your jedi master! Tell me about your master. And hismaster! And HIS master!” As he went on, his voice got louder and happier. His enthusiasm was heartwarming and hilarious. Ben loved it and he was more than happy to oblige him. It had been some time since Luke’s encounter with Master Jinn as a Force apparition and his curiosity was overflowing.
“Why,” Ben gaped in mock surprise. “That would take all night.”
Ah, rarely did Ben get his own question in, anyways.
“YAAASSSS!” Luke nearly jumped up with his happy shout, bumping into Ben’s side and arm rather forcefully. There would certainly be a bruise there tomorrow. There was a slam as the headboard of the bed hit the wall behind them, echoing a loud noise through the room. Both of them exchanged surprised and vaguely entertained looks and suppressing giggles.
“Quite little beacon,” Ben hushed him, bringing up his hand with a smile. He couldn’t help himself; the boy was right adorable. “We must be courteous to our neighbors.”
The young boy quieted himself and shrunk in just a bit of shame, he turned towards the headboard and kneeled up from underneath the cloak, nearly bringing his forehead to the wall in some kind of quiet, solemn pledge. “My apologies, gentle beings. I vow to be better,” he whispered to the wall.
Ben could only watch in amusement. Luke looked back up at him, waiting and trying to be patient. But then he sat back down and carefully wrapped part of Ben’s cloak around himself again, curling his legs under his body. He was so eager, the want so great. Ben tried not to see Anakin in his eyes. But Anakin many times wanted to know about Qui-Gon. His hero worship for a dead man he knew for a handful of days was rather astounding.
If he only knew.
He wondered if Luke felt the same. It was interesting he thought. Perhaps all Skywalkers had an interest and love for the maverick jedi, despite both of them had barely known the man.
What did that say?
“Well,” Ben started, slowly, trying to figure out a good place to start. The training lineage itself seemed to be what Luke was after. He wondered how far it would go, how far Luke wanted it. “Master Jinn master was a man from Serenno named Count Dooku. Dooku, in turn, was trained by Master Yoda.”
Luke glanced at him as if he thought he was being tricked, his eyes narrowing in serious suspicion. Ben bit back a laugh, it was amusing to see. “Doesn’t Master Yoda train everyone?” he asked, his voice drawing out in a slow drawl.
Ben nodded. “Yes. But Dooku was Master Yoda’s padawan.”
“Padawan,” Luke tested the word on his tongue, and took care doing it, like it was something he should be respectful of. Like it was important. It should have been, Ben thought bitterly. Luke should have been a jedi, able to find a master he would connect with in a way where that relationship was beloved. Ben knew Anakin probably wouldn’t have wanted Luke to be a Jedi, but Ben couldn’t quite imagine him not. The boy, even at nine years old, had wanted it so badly. “What does that mean?”
“It is the jedi term for apprentice,” Ben started to explain, trying to keep things easy for Luke to understand. The boy was smart for his age but even he knew that Ben had a tendency to go a little overboard at times, “but… it is a little more than that. It is a personal relationship, you learn from your master, spend much time with them and go on missions together.”
Luke considered this and beamed, so bright and happy and beautiful. The thought on his mind was something he was so proud of. “Like us!”
Ben tried not to falter. How could he tell Luke that he could never take him on as a padawan? If he hadn’t completely failed Anakin, hadn’t lost everything. The word was dangerous. Even a mere mention of it was something he had to be careful of. The Empire was extremely prejudice about it, about even thinking that someone may be a jedi or a jedi Padawan. He did not answer. “So,” he continued on their original topic instead. “Count Dooku learned more closely from Master Yoda. Master Yoda has had many padawans. Count Dooku, once upon a time, was my grandmaster, which meant he trained my master, who trained me. He was from a planet called Serenno and was a royal, making him a count.”
“Count Dooku….” Luke tried, narrowing his eyes as he thought about the name and the man behind it. “What was he like?”
“I did not know him as a padawan,” Ben confessed, which was true. He wasn’t entirely sure if Dooku just had not wanted to see him, if he wasn’t living up to the Count’s standards or if Qui-Gon just had not wanted Ben to meet him. Or both, he supposed it could have been both. “I didn’t meet him until much later.”
“Is that strange?”
Ben hummed as he thought about this. “Sometimes, I suppose,” he replied. It had been quite some time before he realized what lineage lines more often than not, were. All jedi, padawans, initiates, even knights, had been trained and taught by many others, even those outside of the lineage. Ben had spent quite some time with several others when he was a young knight. Master Drallig had been one, when he had decided to change his primary form. Eventually he had gone to Master Billaba, a known and excellent practitioner of Soresu for guidance. Ben had not seen or met much of his lineage and those he had, were often evil or dead. Xanatos was not someone he wanted to be associated with, as he had gone dark. As well as Dooku’s last padawan, Vosa and then Dooku himself. His teaching lineage was rather a mess.
Perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising that another had fallen so far.
“Many grand masters are often around, some even help teach their padawan’s padawan,” he added, cautiously.
“But he didn’t,” Luke replied, a bit slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he should be saying it.
“No,” Ben shook his head. He wasn’t entirely sure why. He would never really know and his old master, even as a ghost, was not exactly forthcoming with answers, especially when it came to Count Dooku. “He and Qui-Gon had a bit of falling out and often did not see eye to eye.”
“Did you get to meet him?” Luke asked.
“Ah…yes,” he nodded again, although he bit his lip. That was rather complex. Ben hadn’t met him as a jedi but rather, once the older man had fallen to the dark side and had become a sith apprentice. He imagined Dooku became quite different through the transition. “He had become a different person by then and had left the jedi.”
“He became bad.”
“He did bad things, yes,” Ben agreed, careful with his words and his tone. Count Dooku was both an interesting and uneasy topic, but he still had to be cautious with how he said things to an easily impressionable child. “But he wasn’t bad for leaving the jedi. Leaving the jedi isn’t always a bad thing.”
“Why would anyone want to leave the jedi?”
Ben nearly wanted to laugh. Luke said it in such a way that it seemed ridiculous, leaving the jedi. He probably should not have told him all the times he had left or had threatened or thought about leaving. Sometimes the cause was different. “Sometimes, things change. Some people discover it is not the type of life they want to live. There is not shame in it,” he reminded, gentle and patient.
“I want to be a jedi.”
Oh, he sounded so sure. Once upon a time, Anakin had sounded sure.
“I know,” he replied, sensible and slow. He would not berate Luke for wanting this, after all, he could sense it. “But it is okay if you end up changing your mind too.”
“I won’t,” Luke affirmed with a light shrug. “Why did Count Dooku leave?”
“He did not agree with some of the jedi leaders,” Ben explained. It was a bit vague but understandable for the youngster. In all honesty, Ben himself wasn’t entirely sure of all the intricacies behind Dooku leaving and his fall. The two were connected, no doubt. But not everyone who left the jedi became like him. Became like Xanatos or Anakin. “And a man, he told Dooku things, some lies, some things true, from a point of view.”
“But he did bad things anyways,” Luke said, curious but adamant.
“Yes. He hurt people.”
“Did you fight him?”
“Yes. Many times.”
“I wish I could have seen it,” Luke said, wistfully, his eyes glimmering into something of desire. He huffed lightly at the thought. Skywalkers are their obsession with lightsaber fighting. “I bet you fight amazing.”
Ben smiled, a bit uneasily. “I was…an adequate warrior. Count Dooku was a legendary swordsman. One of the best. It took a long time before anyone defeated him.”
“Who beat him?”
“Your father, actually.”
“What?! Really?! That’s so cool! Were you there?”
Ben hummed and nodded. “Yes, Count Dooku was not so easily beaten but your father did it. Dooku, aside from his lightsaber skills was a ruler of a planet and had something of a silver tongue.”
“What is that?”
“He’s very good at talking. Very calm and collected, rarely could one say things that surprised him of caught him off guard,” he explained.
“Kinda like you?”
“Pardon?”
“You are really good at taking,” Luke said seriously, looking up at him.
“I am…alright,” Ben replied, nearly choking on the words. It had been quite some time since someone noticed that. It had been a long time since he had been considered a diplomat, an advisor, a negotiator.
“Can you teach me? To talk like you?”
“Uh…we will see,” Ben chuckled, trying to keep the unease out of his voice. He had once tried to teach Anakin the nuances of speech, especially when it came to speaking with politicians and other scum of the galaxy, but he was more intent on learning about aggressive negotiations. Or at least, that with a lightsaber. Then again, he had never really asked, never really found interest in learning that of the sort. Luke was not Anakin and Ben just had to remind himself of that. Some days were easier than others.
“How many… pada…padawans did Dooku have before he left?” Luke stumbled on the unfamiliar word.
“His first was Rael Aveross, second my master, Qui-Gon Jinn and third, Komari Vosa.”
“Tell me about Master Jinn!”
Of course. Of course. “Are you sure? We can’t go back…”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“Alright, alright,” Ben laughed, keeping his tone light and a bit quiet, trying not to disturb the neighbors. It was getting rather dark and late out and no doubt some beings were, in fact, trying to sleep. He started to explain some things that he remembered about his old master, starting with the big things and swirling down to the more minute details. It was a bit fascinating how much Ben remembered, even after over twenty-five years. It was hard to imagine it had been so long. It was hard to imagine that so little time had passed. “Master Jinn was known to be a bit of a maverick. He just… kind of did what he wanted.”
Luke sighed, overly dramatic, throwing his hands up in the air.
That garnered Ben’s curiosity. “What is it?”
“Does no one follow the rules?”
Ben laughed, a bit loud and hearty. He would have never expected something like that to come from a Skywalker’s mouth. “Yes. Master Jinn wasn’t known for following rules. Sometimes this worked in his favor, other times it did not. He was quite the character.”
“He told me something about the Living Force,” Luke asked, uncertainly.
“Did he visit you?”
Luke nodded.
Ben rolled his eyes. “No regard for rules,” he muttered under his breath.
“I’ll tell him,” Luke said, seriously and Ben absolutely believed him. The boy didn’t go around making promises he did not intend to keep. It was something he rather admired about the boy, even already at his age. “If he does it again.”
“What did he try to tell you?”
“Well, he talked about the Living Force…”
Ben explained what he meant by that, as well as the difference between the living and cosmic/unifying force in a way that he hoped was easy to understand for Luke. It was a bit of a tangent, and he thought the lesson was good and Luke just rolled his eyes at the descripted antics of Ben’s old master. Ben was secretly glad he wasn’t the only one. “Master Jinn…he liked plants and animals, generally things that could and would easily kill a person,” Ben grumbled, but his tone was quite fond. Of course at the time, when Master Jinn was alive, it had been annoying, but over time, Ben had even come to appreciate other lifeforms in the way of faun and flora. “I had to take care of many of his pathetic lifeforms.”
“Pathetic lifeforms,” Luke giggled, trying to keep quiet. “That’s funny. Can we get a pathetic lifeform?”
Ben chuckled; a bit nervous. Oh no, he could not go through that again. “Uh no. I don’t think that would be wise…but maybe, perhaps, we can see about getting a plant.”
“Let me guess, one that doesn’t eat people?”
“I think that would be best, don’t you?” Ben smiled, a bit mischievous. This was progress. He can work with a plant, sure. Perhaps it would help teach Luke responsibility as well.
Luke shrugged. “Maybe. But I want a cool one though.”
Present Past
Anakin
“Angel,” Anakin smiled warmly as Padme’s visage popped up over the table. Even through the holocall, she looked as radiant as ever. Obi-Wan was asleep and Anakin just needed to talk to someone. If it wasn’t Obi-Wan, who he knew he had to speak to, he was lucky it was her. He had thought about the Chancellor, but he imagined the man was rather busy at the moment.
Padme just smiled back and shook her head, mockingly hopeless in her expression. She quicky frowned a little bit, as though she remembered something, and her eyes went worried. “Ani. I heard Obi-Wan crashed. Is he okay?”
He wilted at the change of topic, immediately.
“You won’t believe what has happened,” he sighed, running his flesh hand through his hair. He supposed he did want to talk about Obi-Wan. It was unusual affair when it came to her; as he usually didn’t want to talk about him unless he was letting off steam, but Anakin was confused, he didn’t know what was going on or how to proceed. Perhaps Padme could help. She helped with everything else, so why not this. “Obi-Wan…isn’t Obi-Wan.”
Her expression turned flat, and he could see she did not appreciate what she thought must have been a joke. “What does that mean?”
“This is going to sound crazy, he admitted. And it really was.
“Crazier than Mortis?”
He winced as he remembered that absolutely horrible mission. Where Ahoksa had died. Where he had apparently been turned to the dark side. Where his memories were fuzzy and cold and dark. He only remembered parts of that mission and honestly, he didn’t care too much of trying to regain the memories. “Just about.”
“What happened?”
“It appears….it appears, Obi-Wan has time traveled.” Oh, that coming out of his mouth sounded so weird, so wrong.
She laughed, hollowly, but quicky realized he was genuine and stared at him, wide eyed and surprised. “You cannot be serious.”
He nodded, feeling a bit mute. “Master Vos confirmed it. It’s so messed up.”
“Do we win the war?”
He was a little surprised that it was the first thing she thought of the first thing she asked, especially considering her previous concern about Obi-Wan specifically but then again, she was a senator. She had a stake and claim in the outcome of this war. She wanted it over. She wanted to win.
“It doesn’t sound like it,” he grumbled, still bitter. He didn’t know much about anything when it came to the future. Sure, Obi-Wan hadn’t yet much time to talk since he just woke up, but he still hadn’t said much of anything about it. He certainly didn’t talk to Anakin personally. “I don’t know much at this point. Obi-Wan is not a jedi, he’s on the run and I’m dead. You should have seen him, Padme. I don’t even know where to begin! When he saw me, he pulled a saber on me. A lightsaber! He was going to kill me but then he just…. dropped and hugged me instead! He knows who the Sith Master is but he’s acting so strange…” his ramble finally started to slow down as his mouth just kind of ran out of words to spout out.
Padme stared at him through his rant and then the holo call began to move as she sat down. Probably a good idea, he thought. This was a lot to take in. “This…this is a lot to take in,” she admitted, mirroring his thoughts. “He didn’t tell you who it was?”
He shook his head. “He said its…it’s complicated. He’s paranoid about giving information. He doesn’t trust me! I knew it!” his voice became louder and angrier as he went on, the feeling billowing in his chest.
She just sighed and shook her head, as if she was exasperated with him. He hated it when she looked and felt like that, especially with him. “Did he tell anyone else about the identity?”
“Well, no,” he grumbled.
“Then it’s not you, Ani,” she pointed out, her voice calm and patient and kind. With his mind on Obi-Wan, it seemed somehow reminiscent of how his old master used to speak with him when he was a child. A child to be calmed and pacified. He was not entirely sure how he felt about that. “He’s scared and he doesn’t seem to understand what is going on.”
“He doesn’t even think this is real.”
“What do you mean?”
“He thinks the Sith caught up with him and is manipulating his mind,” he huffed, rubbing his temples, as if that would just take everything away. He had a persistent headache. From what, he wasn’t entirely sure. “We haven’t been able to convince him otherwise yet.”
“It’s pretty clear that he has been through a lot,” Padme replied, a bit slowly and Anakin’s chest grumbled in that continued tone. He was not a child to be placated. “Paranoia probably kept him alive. Try to be patient with him. This has to be very scary and strange to him.”
Anakin groaned and nearly flopped over. She wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t even imagine how he would react in Obi-Wan’s shoes. Probably better, or worse, he grimaced. It was difficult to think about. “I knowwwww…. I just. Augh. He’s taking a nap and then he wants to meditate.”
“Maybe that will help him accept this,” she offered. “You know he always feels better after meditation, even if you don’t.”
He sighed. “I guess.”
“Do you know anything else about the future?”
“Not much. I can’t imagine it’s good, if Obi-Wan of all people is on the run.”
“And you are dead,” she pointed out worriedly. “I might be too.”
That got his attention. “What do you mean?”
“Ani…” she started, keeping her voice slow still. “He’s by himself. He’s your friend, your family. He’s my friend. I’m sure he knows we care about each other. I cannot imagine I would not help him if I had been able. Don’t you think he would try to help me if something happened?”
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“Something did,” she pointed out. She wasn’t wrong but the thought was much too horrible to even consider. He would never let anything happen to her. He didn’t think he would let anything happen to Obi-Wan either, some dark part of him realized, but something had. He had allowed that to happen by dying. “Something so horrible, Obi-Wan is all alone. No friends, no family, no jedi.”
“Not completely alone,” Anakin realized. He hadn’t thought about Luke much in the past couple of hours and the thought was actually kind of shaking his core. Perhaps Padme could shed some light on his thoughts and theories.
“Pardon?”
“Someone came back with him, someone who isn’t even born yet in this time,” he said, trying to find the right words to describe him. He probably should not be talking about this whole-time travel thing with others; Master Windu and the Council seemed to want to keep it under wraps – like so many other things, he thought cynically. But Padme could be trusted. He could trust her. After all, if he couldn’t trust his wife, who would he trust? Some tiny voice deep inside him echoed his master’s name. “His name is Luke and he’s…. crazy protective. Wouldn’t even leave Obi-Wan’s side for a while.”
Padme just smiled, knowingly. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
“That’s different,” he insisted, and it nearly stunned him how quickly he realized what she was talking about. Who, she was talking about. Him. “He’s, my master. We are a team. The best team.”
“And who is Luke?”
Anakin hesitated and glanced away. The idea had been vaguely bouncing around his head, but he hadn’t voiced it yet. “I think…. I think he might be Obi-Wan’s son.”
“No way.”
“I don’t know for sure,” he added, quickly, almost like he was trying to back track. The thought of Obi-Wan having a child at all was rather mind-boggling. Hypocritical maybe, because that meant he had an attachment, at least of some kind. “It’s just…he told Ahsoka his mother died in childbirth and his father…that it was complicated,” he wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“Why do you think he’s Obi-Wan’s son?”
“He’s force sensitive.”
“So are you and he’s not your son,” she pointed out, teasingly.
He snorted again; wasn’t that a thought. “He talks like Obi-Wan, you know, all posh and stuff. Was raised by him. And…do you remember the Duchess of Mandalore.”
“Satine Kryze?”
He nodded. Her eyes widened in understanding. If he recalled, he was pretty sure the Duchess and Padme were friends. She’d probably know, perhaps. “When we rooted out the traitor on her ship, she confessed her feelings and he told her he would have left the order if she asked.”
“Do you think she asked?”
“It seems likely, although I have a hard time imagining he would have done it before the war ended,” he admitted. “Honestly, it’s hard to imagine at all. He’s just…he’s got that perfect jedi thing going on.”
Even he knew that Padme was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She generally didn’t always completely agree on some of the things Anakin thought about his former master. “If the war ends and Obi-Wan is on the run, as you say,” she realized, thinking about this train of thought. “He may have fled to Mandalore.”
“Then she died in childbirth,” Anakin frowned. “It would have been…really quickly, right after the war. Luke is, like, fifteen, sixteen max.”
“Does he look like Obi-Wan?”
Anakin shook his head but then hesitated. “I don’t think so, but I haven’t really looked you know? I only spent a couple of hours with him and even then, I wasn’t really looking. He’s blonde, like the Duchess, so maybe he looks more like her?”
“We will have to check it out when you get back to Coruscant. Perhaps do a DNA test or something. That would certainly confirm things. You are coming back, right?”
Anakin hesitated. “Not…yet.”
She sighed.
“The colony of Kiros was taken by slavers,” he explained with a snarl at the word, his anger growing more profound as he realized what was happening, what type of mission they were taking on. Slavers. “Captain Rex and Luke were taken by Dooku.”
Padme looked worried but it was washed away with her expression of compete determination. “Then the Republic’s greatest hero has to go and save them.”
Anakin grinned at the praise. “Not to worry, milady, it shall be done.”
“And milady has work to do,” she laughed.
“Awww. Can’t you stay on longer?”
Something in her eyes glimmered. She was up to something, he knew it. “I do believe I have to do my own part,” she said, vaguely. “And you should probably be around Obi-Wan when he wakes up. He’s going to need you. We are going to win this war this time.”
“This time,” Anakin echoed.
Cody
Quinlan Vos was not exactly the kind of person Commander Cody would have expected General Kenobi to be friends with. He has heard a little of General Kenobi’s friends and life, pre-war, but he had heard things, gleaned from snippets from both General Kenobi, General Skywalker and other still. General Vos was someone General Kenobi complained about, but he did it the same way he complained about Skywalker, which made it clear that they were close.
They were friends. Close friends. Perhaps best friends, although from what Cody could tell, several beings like to try and claim that title. He was a bit curious on General Kenobi’s own thoughts on the matter.
Cody had been trying to keep himself busy while his general slept to prepare for the conflict that was undoubtedly in front of them. Boil and his group had been replaced for clean up on the planet. The trooper had already been ready for another fight when Cody explained what had happened to like and Waxer. Waxer was his best friend and Luke…no one was entirely sure what Luke was to them at this stage, but he was something. Something their troops cared about. Their trusted little fellowship was already fond of the boy, nearly as much as they were to Luke.
Needless to say, no one was happy upon discovering Luke and Waxer’s dilemma and situation. All of them prepared for the next assignment and then milled around the overall area where their general slept. Cody didn’t stop them. They knew about the future and even beside that, there was something else. A change they could feel.
Cody was talking to Barlex and Threepwood, quietly discussing next moves involving the chips. Commander Colt and Alpha-17 were already starting research and had discovered the location of the chip in their heads. It could be found by a level five atomic scan, something few ships had access to. Although, with the right equipment, the surgery did not appear too difficult.
“We need to talk to the jedi about this,” Threepwood said quietly. “You know what Luke did. He can help the droids scan and find the chips.”
“They probably also have access to the necessary scanners and droids,” Barlex added, his voice gruff as per usual.
“We have to be very careful,” Cody warned. “This information could cause widespread panic, or worse, word getting out to the Sith and the chips could be activated early.” It was a terrible thing to think about, much less consider. Even though he technically knew it had happened, happened to his general, it was hard to wrap his head around. He could not even imagine doing such a thing.
“We need help,” Threepwood insisted.
“We do not have the resources to de-chip the entire GAR while we fight this war,” Barlex agreed, although rather grudgingly. He didn’t always seem to like agreeing with other people. “Or the equipment, the time, the excuses.”
“I know,” Cody hissed.
“If you need boys de-chipped fast, contacting jedi healers and perhaps jedi with smaller clone attachments might be a good start.”
The three of them shut up quicky and spun around, lining up in front of the jedi general in perfect formation to salute in practiced smooth movements. “Sir!” one of them near shouted. Cody didn’t know who it was. He didn’t dare look.
“We didn’t…”
General Vos raised a hand, smirking subtly and casually. Cody wanted to feel relaxed, he really did. This was General Kenobi’s friend; couldn’t they trust him? He truly hoped so. “Don’t worry, I’m no snitch. Well, actually I am, but not in this case,” he smiled at his own joke, although it was a bit weak. “I know about the chips and what happened in Obi-Wan’s future.”
That helped ease the tension a bit. General Vos gave them a rundown on his specific abilities to give them a rational explanation to his access of knowledge. And then he continued to explain his suggestion. “There are healers stationed everywhere and if there is one thing they know, aside from healing, it is digression. They have any and all excuses, especially as jedi, to see troopers.”
“The surgery is apparently pretty easy,” Barlex also noted. “Luke did several with the help of a basic med droid, quickly.”
An eyebrow rose curiously. “Then it should definitely be faster and easier with actual healers. I can contact Master Healer Che and start proceedings in that area.”
“She’s your top coordinator?” Cody asked. He nodded. “Maybe start with the other healers, away from Coruscant.”
“What are you afraid of?”
Was he that obvious?
“The danger is centered there,” Cody replied, vaguely. The others glanced at him, but he didn’t meet their gaze. The speculation was just that…speculation but even if it was confirmed, if the chips didn’t spread mass panic, the acknowledgment and identity of the man behind all of this, would.
“I wanted to talk to you,” General Vos dropped it for now. “About Obi-Wan, Luke, steps going forward to prevent that future.”
“Barlex and Threepwood know,” Cody stated firmly, as General Vos glanced between the three of them warily. Cody answered his silent question immediately. “Luke asked me to gather some of the boys and he explained what he knew. They are de-chipped. Waxer knows.”
“He’s with Luke,” General Vos realized, after a moment. General Kenobi must have told him about Waxer, Cody thought. He couldn’t really believe that General Vos knew any of them by name. Before this, he hadn’t really spent much time with the 212thbattalion and the only one he ever really interacted with to some degree was Cody himself. “I am not certain of that will end up being a good or a bad thing.”
“He will do his duty.”
“I have little doubt,” General Vos agreed, a bit readily, to their surprise. “Who else knows?”
Cody didn’t think the names or even numbers would mean anything to the jedi, but he listed them off anyways. “The Medic,” General Vos realized as Cody went over Helix’s name and gestured for them to follow. They ended up in General Kenobi’s office which Barlex pointed out as they got in, his voice just flat enough not to sound too insubordinate or disrespectful.
“It’s easier to get into his mindset here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mentioned my psychometry. It’s linked to that. I got a lot from Luke before the battle,” he said, as they settled in. Everyone was still rather uneasy. “And even more from Obi-Wan. It’s…it is really bad.”
“We are forced to kill the jedi,” Barlex noted.
“Even the little ones,” Threepwood finished, quiet and pained at the thought. No one knew exactly who had marched on the Temple in General Kenobi’s past and their possible future. For all they knew it could have been them. Maybe it had been. Maybe not. It didn’t matter so much at this point; they still felt it rather keenly, almost as though they had personally done it. It was a horrible thought.
General Vos nodded. “Obi-Wan was unconscious when I got the information from him so… so I didn’t feel that in the way he felt it. I didn’t feel his pain and grief in the full force that I would have if he had been awake; just the…remnants of it.”
“You know who did it,” Barlex voiced something they had all realized.
“Pardon?”
“You know who attacked the Temple,” Cody answered for him, quietly. “You know who killed and massacred the children, the elderly, the sick and injured. You know who led them.”
General Vos didn’t let his face show anything. Cody wondered if that was a skill all Jedi knew because General Kenobi was good at that as well. It didn’t matter what he showed on his face and what he did not. His pause spoke volumes.
“Who was it?” Barlex nearly demanded.
Threepwood just froze. He didn’t want to know.
“Was it us?”
Vos’s response was immediately. “No. No, it wasn’t you.”
No one dared to let out the large breath they were all holding. It was uncomfortable, they were uncomfortable, and they knew it, even if it was not them, it had been someone.
Cody had a theory, a feeling.
He did not like it.
He wanted it verified, a desperate plea for himself to be wrong, but he did not voice it. He could not bring himself to. General Vos caught his eye. Cody just wilted.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, instead. “As long as we move quickly and quietly, it won’t happen at all. Obi-Wan is awake, as I’m sure you are all aware. At this point in time, he does not believe this to be real. He thinks that this is a complex Sith mind trick. This will be a lot more difficult if we cannot convince Obi-Wan of otherwise.”
“He will come to the right conclusion,” Cody affirmed. “He’s practical and smart. He will figure it out.”
“I imagine time travel is pretty difficult to wrap one’s head around,” Threepwood grimaced. “We were lucky, I think, having Luke around. He’s not born yet, and he knows things he couldn’t have known unless General Kenobi had told him.”
“We are heading to Zygerria,” General Vos continued. “General Koon and the 104thare going to Kadavo to retrieve the Kiros colonists, on Obi-Wan’s intelligence. We, in the meantime, are headed to the planet to get their governor and make some noise to attract Dooku,” he explained.
“Why?”
“We are fairly certain he has Luke and the missing troopers.”
The boys bristled. “They are dead, aren’t they?”
“We don’t think so,” he disagreed.
“Why? Count Dooku does not take trooper hostages,” Barlex pointed out.
“Usually, yes,” General Vos nodded. “But he thinks Luke is Obi-Wan’s padawan and, especially due to his very…sudden…disappearance, Dooku’s interest is undoubtedly high with him and the situation surrounding him.”
“And?”
“He will probably use the troopers as leverage, hostages,” General Vos confessed with a frown. “If Count Dooku wanted those troopers dead, I imagine we would have just found their bodies in the air base on Umbara. Luke is young and he is rather fond of you, it appears. They will make decent leverage.”
“He is,” Threepwood sighed.
“But what Luke knows about the future…could it be that valuable to Dooku?” Barlex asked. “Luke was born after the war.”
“I doubt Dooku, at this point, knows about the time travel and we think Dooku’s interest is in Luke’s relation to Obi-Wan. As most of you probably know… Count Dooku…he’s a bit fond of him.”
“He shows it in very strange ways,” Threepwood muttered.
“He is Obi’s grand master.”
Threepwood and Barlex sputtered.
“Count Dooku is General Kenobi’s grandfather?”
General Vos looked vaguely uncomfortable with the phrase but shook his head lightly, like that wasn’t exactly it. It wasn’t, Cody knew the jedi didn’t have grandfathers in the way that many other cultures did but that didn’t make those relationships any less personal. “Err…. not exactly but sort of? He trained Obi-Wan’s master, Qui-Gon Jinn.”
“That is…. messed up,” Threepwood sighed.
“We want him to come to Zygerria. He’s in league with the slaver queen there, no doubt working some angle. According to Obi-Wan, he had gone to the planet last time when she didn’t quite…listen to the Count.”
“So, we are kind of doing the same thing?”
General Vos just smiled. “More like we are going to make a bit of a mess and kark some things up to get Dooku to come. Just a small team for now, lure him in and then attack with the 501st and 212th.”
“I can put together a task force, sir,” Cody said. He knew exactly who to bring.
“I would say you should probably stay on the ship, but I don’t think you will,” he cracked a sly grin.
“Barlex can cover,” Cody replied, readily, glancing at his brother. His gaze hardened in determination, and he nodded. “Besides, I think me being there, with Boil, might help.”
“How do you mean?”
“Both Boil and I were in the future, we lived…longer than most,” Cody explained but it was difficult to get through. He didn’t know much about the future and he didn’t particularly like talking about the fates of his brothers, as horrible as they were. As little as he knew, with only speculation and hypothesis to guide him through. “He’s a bit more comfortable around those people, especially Boil. He’s got a bit of a soft spot for him and he’s still alive in General Kenobi’s future.”
“He did mention him before,” General Vos noted.
“I brought him back from cleanup. He’s probably already talking with the General now,” Cody added. “General Kenobi prefers short power naps more than anything. The more comfortable he is with the squad, the more information we will get and the more likely he may be more inclined to believe.”
“And they won’t let anything happen to him,” Barlex vowed, darkly.
“Finally!” a new voice grumbled as the door was forced open. Helix burst in with a long sigh and a huff. “General, commander. I guess I should have known. I thought you would want to know. General Kenobi is awake.”
Ben
“Obi-Wan! Please!”
“It was only a dream, dear one. Dreams pass in time.”
“He will never want me.”
“You will never remind me.”
“Ben!”
“Obi-Wan!”
“I love you.”
“And you, you’ve grown sadder.”
“Trust in the Force.”
“I will not abandon you.”
“I would have chosen you over and over given the chance.”
“I foresee you becoming a greater jedi than I.”
“He was my best friend, my brother.”
“You can see that?”
“It’s just you and me, old man.”
“Is it true?”
“Yes.”
“I am so proud of you.”
“We were waiting.”
“I’m waiting.”
“You have become a far greater jedi than I could ever hope to be.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“If In die here, it’s going to be your fault.”
“If I die here, it’s going to be with you.”
“Forgive me if I still think I know you better than anyone else.”
“I know what you wanted. I’m not leaving him.”
“You do.”
“We meet again.”
“It is all your fault.”
“LIES!”
“It’s over Anakin.”
“It hate you.”
“I love you.”
Ben’s inhale back into consciousness, coming from his slumber, was quick and deep, accompanied by a dry throat and wet cheeks.
“Welcome back, general.”
It took a rather embarrassingly long moment for Ben to put a finger on the name. It had been a very long time. He racked his brain, but eventually, the short-term memories came back forward. The star destroyer. Quinlan. Umbara 2.0. What did the Sith Lord want with staging this specific campaign? Surely, he would be smart enough to know Ben wouldn’t do the same things as last time; that surely, he would try to be better, do better, save more lives. No matter how hard he tried, Ben just couldn’t quite stop being a jedi. He wondered how the casualty counts compared to the first time around.
“Helix,” Ben murmured, a bit fondly. “It has been a while.”
“So, you have said,” Helix hummed, and Ben could feel him going over him, checking for anything and everything, going through his vitals while the jedi regained himself. “Longer for you than me, as your padawan says it.”
“My padawan?” Ben mused.
“Luke,” Helix supplied.
“Is that what he calls himself?”
“No,” Helix shrugged. “But it seems kind of obvious to us. Good kid, though. Kind, generous. Protective of you…and us, it appears.”
“He has always wanted to meet the people of my past.”
“Well, if you tell him a bunch of glory stories, that does not seem too surprising.”
“They were flattering ones, I assure you.”
“Not the ones where we kill all of you, I imagine.”
The plain facts and rational tone of Helix’s voice caught Ben off guard. He turned to stare at him in surprise, a little wide eyed. Oh, the man hadn’t changed a bit. He was just like how Ben remembered him over sixteen years ago. “You…how… I don’t know what you are talking about,” he settled on.
Look at that, he could be at a loss for words.
“Luke told us,” Helix confessed. “Got the chips out and everything. Just a few of the boys to start. I think he wanted some allies. The Commander, Gearshift, Trapper, Longshot, Threepwood, Barlex, Wooley, Crys, your favorites,” he smirked at the end.
Ben sputtered. “What…I do not-.”
“Don’t worry, general,” he just chuckled. “Everyone has favorites, and we get it. Care isn’t finite or whatever; jedi-way. We all know. Can’t say we completely blame ya, those two are surprisingly good with you. However, speaking of which, Commander Cody did pull some strings, so Boil came with us instead of staying on Umbara for cleanup.”
“He can to Kiros with us last time,” Ben mused, quiet and mostly to himself. “He wanted to get his mind off of…off of Waxer.”
“Waxer died on Umbara the first time, didn’t he?”
It wasn’t much to jump to that conclusion, apparently. He wondered what Luke had told them. Ben swallowed and nodded. “Friendly fire.”
“Commander Cody told me. He said Luke put a stop to it. As far as we know, currently, they are both still alive.”
“Things have already changed,” Ben mumbled. “Luke wasn’t here last time…could it…”
“Boil is coming up,” Helix said quietly. “It may be a few minutes. Would you like to talk to him? I know he isn’t your future version but perhaps a friendly and known presence might help ground you.”
“Ground me?”
“You confessed earlier that you believed this was a Sith trick; a mental manipulation orchestrated by the Sith,” Helix began to explain, only a bit hesitant.
Ben nodded.
“Maybe he could help,” he shrugged. “It’s a little difficult to see Boil as a grounding influence but well, who knows?”
“Alright,” Ben conceded. He rather thought he would like to see the trooper again anyways. Even if he may have just been a figment of this trick, Helix was not wrong, a friendly face would always be a blessing.
“It’ll be a couple of minutes. I have some boys to look over, can you handle a bit by yourself?”
He just laughed, lightly. “Of course, Helix. Go on.”
*
Arfour was not having a good time.
Her pathetic lifeform had finally awoken but he was just all over the place. Running around like a maniac, his vitals all over the place and nothing that came out of his person that made any sense. Not real? What was not real?
He looked at her as if he had not seen her in a very long time.
It had been not even a singular day.
She let the two humanoids speak and she waited for her turn quietly. [pathetic lifeform] was tired and confused but seeing [know-it-all] appeared to make him a bit more at ease. Some residents of the ship made him more at ease than others.
She took note of that.
[pathetic lifeform] smiled kindly at her as she rolled into his room beeping indignantly. Looking down at her, there was something, an expression, on his face that her current data banks just could not quite identify. “Ah, Arfour. I think we have some work to do.”
*
Boil’s face appeared in the doorway and all Ben could think was how young he looked. Last time he had seen Boil, he had much more scruff on his face, more wrinkles, grey hair. But he carried himself the same.
Ben wasn’t sure if even the Sith could duplicate that.
His expression instinctively softened at the sight of him. “Hello, Boil.”
The trooper shifted; a bit uncomfortable. Things were not the same as they were in the future; Ben had to be careful. “General. It’s good to see you awake. We…I mean some of the boys were worried.”
Ben nodded. “My apologies. That was not my intention.”
The trooper was fighting back his reactions, probably that of a disbelieving snort. He was trying so hard, Ben mused. He wondered if Boil was a figment of his imagination, the last throws to preserve what was left of his sanity.
Losing it to a Sith Lord wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to go.
Embarrassing.
He was closer now.
“My apologies, sergeant,” he repeated.
“For what, sir?”
“When Luke…helped you off of Vader’s ship, you wanted to stay with us. He loved you. I think you may have been Luke’s only real friend at that point.”
Boil swallowed. Ben didn’t know if he understood.
“I couldn’t let you. I couldn’t let you stay with us. Sometimes I regret it but…that’s not the jedi way.”
“Why did you not want me to stay?”
“I could not give Vader another loved one to be targeted,” Ben rasped. It was too late, the Sith already knew. So much in Ben’s head…sometimes he wished he was a droid, able to just wipe it all away.
Boil just stared at him and Ben wanted to reach out in the force with his feelings and projections. It had been a long time since he had done that amongst troopers.
He didn’t dare.
“Why…” Boil hesitated and glanced away. “Why does Vader hate you so much? Who is he?”
Ben’s breath caught. He had never actually confessed it to anyone, who Vader was.
Boil seemed to sense Ben’s panic and quickly tried to backtrack. The tone of his voice sounded strange paired with Boil’s gruff voice and his usual attempt to be calm and surly and brusque. “I am so sorry, sir. You do not have to tell me. It is completely fine. It doesn’t even matter really. He’s not here and you are not there.”
“I used to,” Ben struggled to speak. “I know him. Vader he…”
Ben stopped and stiffened. Boil followed his snap quick gaze to where Skywalker was standing in the doorway.
“Sergeant, would you mind leaving us for a bit?” Ben asked, not unkindly. He would not let a Sith near the trooper if he could help it. If Vader had donned Anakin’s visage. He wasn’t sure who this was, if it was Vader or someone else playing him or even yet, Anakin himself. Quinlan and several others had tried to convince him that he was in the past. For one of the first times ever, Boil hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he should actually do as he had been asked. But after a moment, he walked out with a touch of bristle on his shoulders.
It did not escape Anakin’s attention but he, surprisingly, did not say a word.
Instead, he walked over to Ben and carefully sat next to him.
He felt so real, Ben mused. Like he could reach out and touch him, a familiar warm body under his fingers that wouldn’t burn at the contact.
Anakin always burned in his dreams.
It was a horrible think, to wish he had made sure he had killed Anakin on Mustafar well over a decade ago. So much pain could have been avoided. All it would have cost was Ben himself, leaving all the hurt and pain and horribleness for his mind and shoulders.
He was rather good at that.
He thinks perhaps killing Anakin on Mustafar would have broken him, most times. As much sadness as he could bear, he wasn’t sure if he could survive that.
But then again, Obi-Wan Kenobi had died alongside Anakin Skywalker that day.
If Quinlan and Helix and everyone else was right, if this was real and he was somehow back in his own history, able to make choices and change anything, that meant… did that mean Anakin Skywalker lived once more?
And if he did, did that mean Obi-Wan Kenobi was revived as well?
Could it be possible?
Everything had felt so real, although Ben hadn’t dared to reach out too much to others in the Force. He hadn’t even touched any bonds. If the old ones were still there and not ravaged…he did not know what he’d do.
“I had so much to say,” Anakin started, his voice uncharacteristically subdued and muted, fighting so hard to remain and relaxed and patient. “But I don’t know anymore. I’ve been thinking about things for hours and hours. Everything is going to be so different now.”
“What do you mean?”
“For me, it has only been a day. A day since it was you and me, like always. A day ago, I thought everything was fine. I thought we were okay. For me, the things that you have gone through have not happened yet. I’m alive and healthy, early twenties with a young padawan, fighting in a galaxy-wide war,” he tried to explain but Ben could tell, he was certainly struggling. “But for you, for you, it has been over fifteen years. You saw the end of the war, and something so terrible happened, you left the jedi and are on the run.”
“I did not leave,” he mumbled, absentmindedly. He hadn’t even been aware that he had spoken it until moments after, when Anakin’s head jerked, eyes meeting his in some form of terrified confusion. It looked so real, his uncertainty, and Ben wanted so desperately to believe it. Because if Anakin was befuddled and perplexed, then perhaps he didn’t know, perhaps Quinlan was right and this was actually his padawan. Not the monster that was using his body.
“Huh?”
“I did not leave,” he repeated, a bit louder.
“Did they…kick you out?” Anakin asked, skeptical and unconvinced.
Ben shook his head. “No. Everyone is dead and gone. I’m the last of the jedi.”
*
Anakin
Anakin just choked. That was not what he was expecting. Not that he had many expectations at this point. It was still painful to think about, however, and anything Anakin had expected, they both knew, this was not it.
Ten thousand jedi.
One survivor.
“That’s impossible,” he whispered. He hadn’t even realized he had said it. His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t spoken in years or if he had spoken too much in that time. It was an odd contradiction, but all Anakin could feel was like he was choking on nothing at all. Because that could not have happened.
“Unfortunately, it very much is possible,” Ben hummed. “I have seen the Temple bathed in blood, bodies thrown carelessly across the halls, shot in the back. I have seen younglings murdered in their beds. They never stood a chance.”
Rage was swelling in Anakin’s chest and Ben studied him curiously. He didn’t seem entirely sure about the validity of his reaction just yet, which just didn’t make any sense. His wariness and paranoia would normally hurt and anger Anakin but right now, he was barely paying attention. It was the overwhelming and heartbreaking feelings that dominated absolutely everything at this point, because there was so many. So many jedi, ten thousand. And they were all just…gone?
Who could have possibly done such a thing?
“How are you not furious?”
“It happened over fifteen years ago,” Ben rasped, and his voice was hoarse and pained. It was like he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Anakin wondered if that actually was the case. “I doubt the horror and grief I felt then will ever truly fade but I cannot…I could not do anything about it.”
“You can now,” Anakin insisted. “We can. It hasn’t happened yet. We can fix this.”
Ben was humming, non-committedly. “Interesting,” he murmured.
Anakin’s brain kept buzzing. This wasn’t happening, was he different and nothing could change it? Was it so bad that Anakin would never have his best friend back? He couldn’t imagine a life now without Obi-Wan being right there, at his side. And he didn’t want to. “What is happening to you?”
He just sighed, long suffering and tired. Obi-Wan was always tired these days but there was something in his expression that was just a little more. “A lot has happened and I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“I want my master back.”
“What does that entail, exactly?”
How to answer that. With everything that was happening and everything that had happened. All of their lives and things they had done and said and not done and said. That was a question he didn’t think he could truly answer, not in its entity. Because this was Obi-Wan and that is all Anakin wanted. “I didn’t realize things had changed so much with us until…until this whole time travel thing. Things have changed so drastically but it is like I don’t know us anymore. We are a tram, the team. We are the best, I can’t even imagine my life without you. But I’ve realized…. it’s like… I don’t know what we are anymore. It’s not the same.”
Much of that may be my fault, I suppose.”
Anakin was so startled by his instinctive desire to agree to such a prospect. When had he turned into the default for blaming Obi-Wan? When had it become so easy? But before Anakin could gather himself again and his thoughts to speak, the older jedi continued. What he said next didn’t seem at all in direct relation to his previous statement.
He was practically choking on the words. “If this is a dream, I do not want it to end.”
Anakin didn’t think he meant to say that out loud. “This is real, master, I swear.”
“I never truly knew why you did it,” he replied, instead. A lump formed in Anakin’s throat. What had he done? “I knew you had resentment, some notion that I had been holding you back. You have said it. If I had, it was never intentional. I’m not exactly the best jedi or teacher, and I know you deserved better, someone who actually knew what they were doing. I know you wanted Qui-Gon and I…don’t blame you. I just didn’t realize I had done so poorly and failed you so much. I did not realize how far you had fallen or when it started.”
Anakin froze. That was much to unravel at the moment. He ended up focusing on the end of the speech.
Fallen? As in…?
It couldn’t be possible.
“What did I become?”
Ben did not want to answer, which just worried Anakin more. He must have been so truly terrible for him to withhold this.
Quinlan Vos appearing was annoying, to put it mildly, as Anakin seemed to believe they were making progress. For answers. But Ben, although subtly, looked visibly relieved. “Hey, Obes,” Master Vos greeted with a smooth smile and a comforted expression, as he carefully entered. “How are you feeling?”
“A bit confused,” Ben admitted, truthfully. “None of this makes sense. I don’t know what Sidious wants from me.”
“Perhaps we are telling the truth, maybe this is time travel,” Master Vos suggested.
“Time travel. An interesting notion,” Ben mused. “Not impossible, however rather unlikely.”
“Why is that?”
“Anakin is acting rather strange.”
“How?”
Obi-Wan exhaled and closed his eyes. Upon opening them, he stared at Anakin as if he thought he would disappear. Anakin stared back at him. This didn’t make any sense Then Obi-Wan turned to look back at Quinlan. “Worried, concerned. Not nearly as angry and resentful as the last time I saw him. I wish this cruel trick would end. But, at the same time, I feel as though this could be a wonderful dream.”
Anakin’s breath caught and emotions, feelings, everything just came rushing in all at once. It was nearly unbearable. “How could you?” his voice stuttered in something of vibration, of hurt and pain. “How could you think that I don’t care?!” he cried.
“Skywalker,” Quinlan warned.
“After-.”
Anakin,” Quinlan snapped, a little louder.
His jaw snapped shut. He was trying, he was trying, he was trying; they could give him back. He had to be careful, they all did. Anakin hated being so worried and concerned about what he said or felt. But he just wanted Obi-Wan back. And he would do anything. “I would rather like to meditate, if you would allow,” Obi-Wan said, quietly, unable to meet Anakin’s eyes.
“This isn’t a Sith trick; you are allowed to do as you please.”
“I’m not sure if I want to believe you. The implications of this…. of this not being a trick or a hallucination or a dream…I do not know what I would do with it. It has been fifteen years, in such a dark galaxy, hunted relentlessly for so long.”
“We are going to fix it, master,” Anakin assured, as he tried to calm himself; trying to breathe. He still sounded determined, dangerous. “I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let it.”
“You keep saying such things as that,” Obi-Wan hummed, his brow furrowing. “As though you think you can control it all.”
Quinlan interrupted before Anakin could say something stupid. Which, in all honesty, Anakin knew most would have probably found anything he would say next rather dumb. “Would meditation help you?”
“I haven’t…reached in the Force that way yet,” he admitted. “Since I woke up.”
“Maybe it is time,” Quinlan offered. “Perhaps it will help you determine your reality.”
“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Would you like to join me?”
“Sure. Do you want to go somewhere else?”
Obi-Wan just shrugged. “Surprisingly, here is fine.”
“Do you intend to join us?” Quinlan asked Anakin.
“Yes,” he nearly growled.
“Then can you at least quiet your mind? Your chaotic way of doing things is doubtfully going to be much help with Obi-Wan,” Master Vos replied, flatly.
“It’s alright,” the older master assured, almost sounding even fond of the way that Anakin does things, even something as an attempt at meditation. “Even after all this time, I know Anakin Skywalker. I’d be interested how things end up. With the Sith, with all of their resources, I find it doubtful they could be able to reproduce it.”
Anakin shot Quinlan a smug grin.
They settled down on the floor and Anakin commed Ahsoka. She had gotten there in record time and was invited to join them as well. Obi-Wan’s gaze was soft at the sight of her, something nostalgic and pained. Anakin wondered if she survived, but then he remembered what Obi-Wan had said about survivors. Or lack thereof.
Anakin had never tried quite so hard at the typical form of meditation than he did just then. All the worry, all the fear; he tried so hard. But every time he opened his eyes, every time he reached out, he could see Obi-Wan smirk, subtly. Like he knew something.
Like Anakin’s meditation habits were familiar and amusing.
Was this progress? Was it possible that Anakin could get Obi-Wan back?
At the very least, most of him?
More beings approached, tentative and hesitant as Anakin sunk into the Force again. The 212th, no doubt, and at least six of them. He tried not to pay attention, but he didn’t recognize any of them off hand. Obi-Wan certainly did.
He continued to relax.
Anakin bit back a scowl. Obi-Wan was more comfortable with the troops than Anakin himself at this point. He didn’t really know any of them. Obi-Wan knew several of Anakin’s own 501st by name…perhaps, Anakin should get to know of some of Obi-Wan’s 212th.
He made a note to himself.
“Is there something you need, commander?” Obi-Wan asked, suddenly.
Anakin startled out of the meditation. He hadn’t even noticed the officer approach. Cody stood in the doorway, patient and dutiful as always.
“You have a call, sir,” Cody responded, a bit quiet.
Obi-Wan silently untangled himself from his position on the floor and stood. “Of course, Commander. Ahsoka, Quinlan…Anakin. I will take my leave. I hope you found this meditation as enlightening as I.”
Quinlan and Anakin perked. Perhaps…?
He and Anakin just glanced at one another. Progress, they both thought. Perhaps they were making progress.
*
Cody
“Did you sleep well?”
“Well enough,” Ben shrugged as he and Commander Cody made their ways through the halls, away from the medical bay. “I do believe I will feel better when I find Luke. Who is requesting my presence?”
“General Windu, sir,” Cody responded easily.
The general let out a little tension in his shoulders while Cody just watched. He had been expecting someone else, he noted, someone worse. Someone he was fearing to speak to. The commander was grateful he could give him someone to speak with that the general actually cared for. Perhaps he could prevent Obi-Wan from talking with that person, the person he dreaded. The room they entered already had the call going, with a shimmering blue visage in the middle.
“Hello Mace,” General Kenobi greeted, fondly.
“Obi-Wan,” Genera Windu softened in such a way that Cody had only heard from Ponds before. Sometimes he had thought that the general hadn’t even been capable of it. It was a rude thought, he knew, but General Windu wasn’t often one to show such sentiment. Then again, this was General Kenobi. From what Cody knew, they had known each other for a very long time and were friends. “How are you feeling?
“I have been asked that quite a bit,” General Kenobi admitted. “I have gotten some sleep and was able to do some meditating. I will concede there is a possibility this is…this is real. Time travel is not exactly impossible,” he continued, a bit quiet, tentative, as if gauging reactions. “I just…I am unsure how to accept it as a possibility, after everything that has happened.”
I don’t know what happened in your past,” General Windu confessed, and he did not look happy about it. Cody had heard about General Windu’s abilities with something called shatter points. He wondered if he could see or feel them through holo calls and if anything changed with them the first time this had happened. “But I know it must have been truly devastating. And those things that happened to you, I…we cannot take those experiences away. But you, us, we have a unique chance to change the horrors of what you have witnessed for others.”
“I will,” General Kenobi vowed, strong and resolute. “I will do what I must. I will not let you down.”
General Windu just looked a little sad, like he knew something that no one else did about him. Cody found it hard to imagine that someone would be a bit upset by General Kenobi’s drive and declaration of persistence. Usually, it was a good trait to have, as far as Cody knew. “I know you won’t. There is a reason I called. We have an intelligence officer that was around Zygerria; the one that gave us the information on the Kiros colonists.”
General Kenobi hummed. “Did this person give you more information?”
He nodded. “Dooku is already heading to Zygerria. His little detour to Umbara has made the Queen send a ship and some of her workers to escort him to her. Basic contact has been made with your missing troopers.”
Both he and General Kenobi perked. “Luke?”
“He has been confirmed aboard but no contact yet.”
“That is something at least.”
“Caution is key, especially with Dooku aboard the ship as well.”
General Kenobi seemed to understand and agreed. “Do not attract attention, I understand. Luke can take care of himself.”
“Even against Dooku?”
“He has been trained and prepared to deal with much worse.”
“Who is he?”
“I’m not sure you would believe me if I tried,” General Kenobi replied, a faintly amused smile quirking from his lips. General Windu mirrored his expression and shook his head, exasperated and fond. “Have you met him?”
“I have not talked to him or seen him, yet no,” General Windu replied, now a bit curious and even a tad more suspicious, although it seemed mocking rather than actually serious. “Why?”
This just made General Kenobi’s smile grow as something twinkled in his eye. “I think, if this is real, I might just love it when you do.”
“Now I’m concerned,” General Windu replied, eyes furrowing.
To Cody’s absolute pleasure and the other High General’s surprise, General Kenobi burst into a light fit of mellow and gentle laughter, authentic and genuine. “Don’t be too worried, dear. Luke meeting you will most likely be the least of your problems.”
Cody didn’t think that made General Windu feel much better, but the mood was lightened just a bit and Cody felt he had some hope. Their conversation lasted a while longer, and while they spoke, they included Cody within their ideas and thoughts on what to do next. Their plan shifting into something a bit less noisy and a bit more subtle. Cody thought with General Skywalker around, it would dive right back into crazy.
He was pretty sure General Kenobi agreed.
*
Their approach to Zygerria space was upcoming and everyone was feeling the anxiety. It spread over most of the ship but centered around the jedi and those closest to them. Everyone knew about what had happened to Captain Rex and Lieutenant Waxer and the other boys and with the hope that they may still be alive, there was concern and optimism with the chance. The closer they got, the angrier Skywalker got, and General Kenobi avoided talking to him by busying himself with relaying orders and going over plans with the others.
“Boil, Trapper, Wooley, Longshot,” Cody ordered, listing off the names rather easily. There were so few of them that he could keep the circle too. He wondered if Luke would be against him widening their circle. There were several other troopers he knew he could trust, and he felt as he could use the help. “You’re with the general and me. Barlex, Threepwood, Crys, Gearshift, I need you to hold down the fort.”
None of them appeared very pleased with being away from the action.
“I need people who know about Luke and the general’s situation, in case something happens,” Cody continued, trying to calm their nerves. “Because whatever happens, we need to prevent the genocide of the jedi and continue to de-chip the GAR so we cannot be used in such a way,” he said, sternly.
It was then agreed rather readily.
*
Anakin
There were many ships going to and from Zygerria as of late and Skywalker just kept growling at the options before them, as each and every one was passed for any number of reasons. He hated that they were just letting them go, one by one, just waiting and trying to find the right one, the one that would suit their needs. They were going to board and take over a ship that was headed to the planet, the home planet of one of the most notorious former slave empires, one that already had access for easy passage to the ground. There were many to choose from and apparently, they had to be careful with their choice.
He hated it.
But they found one. They found one and were simply waiting for it to fall into their grasp. It would be rather easy enough, he imagined. They were standing on the bridge, patiently waiting. Or at least, most of them were patient. Anakin just kept scowling as his hate and anger rose higher and higher. Obi-Wan had hesitated and Anakin saw it, but he put a hand on the young knight’s shoulder, squeezing just gently, like he wasn’t entirely sure if his hand would go through him or not. Like he wasn’t certain Anakin was solid. Whoever had done this to him, whoever had made Obi-Wan doubt himself so much like this, Anakin would make them pay. And then Obi-Wan would never have to feel that way again. “Their empire will not rise again,” he assured, his voice quiet but certain in his words.
Anakin clenched his fist and tried to release it. His voice was rising, only kept low and down by the growl of his chest space in his tone, grumbling up through his throat. It didn’t really matter how loud or quiet he was, however, and although he didn’t really notice it at first, the other officers on the bridge were rather uneasy with his feelings. “Those slaver scum think they are better than everyone else, that they can just bend everyone to their sick will.”
“Be mindful of your feelings,” the statement was almost oddly comforting, it was rather a staple of Obi-Wan’s teachings, as much as Anakin got irritated with it on a constant basis. He hated it, normally, Obi-Wan telling him this. But it was such a normal statement in their dealings, in their life, the one with Obi-Wan, it was also a comfort. At least something was normal. “You cannot let them control you.”
He bit back a scowl. His feelings were what made him powerful, special, but he tried to appease his master. He would do anything right now just to get a little piece of him back. “I know. I know.”
“Breathe with me.”
“What?”
“Breathe with me,” Obi-Wan repeated and for once, Anakin could understand why people thought Obi-Wan so patient. Anakin actually heard him, actually looked into his tone and his voice and him in the Force. He wasn’t judging him, he wasn’t angry or upset, or anything of the sort. He just wanted to help. He just wanted to help Anakin, even if Anakin didn’t think that his feelings were something that he needed help with. “We have a few minutes before we intercept our desired vessel.”
Tentatively, as if it would burn, Obi-Wan took both of Anakin’s hands. The young knight gently squeezed back. Obi-Wan’s gaze was on them for a long moment, rubbing a thumb in tight, light circles on the, studying the flesh hand as if he hadn’t really expected to see it.
“In four beats, through your diaphragm,” Obi-Wan instructed as he inhaled, expecting Anakin to follow. “Hold…. And out for eight.”
Anakin remembered this exercise. It had been years since he had done it, but he remembered it. He remembered the way Obi-Wan would breathe with him when he felt panicked or stressed. Most negative emotions really. He would go on and on, never stopping until Anakin told him and truly felt better. It never mattered how long it took, Obi-Wan had always been there with him, breathing in time with him.
Once upon a time, it had helped.
When had it stopped helping? When had he stopped doing it?
Did it at all? Or did Anakin just stop seeing the use, when he started using his negative emotions, when he saw them as useful and powerful. Had he started to see it as childish or another way Obi-Wan could control him?
Control him, Anakin nearly scoffed. As if he could. As if he wanted to.
Why were his emotions so heightened and negative when it came to Obi-Wan as of late? It had been like that for quite some time, he realized. He was constantly getting upset and angry with his former master and at this particular moment, Anakin could not recall in the foggiest why.
“In four beats,” Obi-Wan repeated and continued to rub circles on the top of Anakin’s hand delicately with his thumb. He focused on the touch, his gaze growing a bit bleary and hazy as he just watched Obi-Wan’s gloved hand move, his tough gentle and light. “Hold four, five, seven….and out one two three.”
They repeated several more times until they were completely in sync, breathing in time with one another, and Obi-Wan was no longer guiding the session. It was just them. As one. Two halves of the same whole.
Two halves of the same whole.
Kind of like the open circle fleet’s symbol.
Obi-Wan’s fleet.
Their fleet.
“It is time,” Obi-Wan said, breaking out of his train of thought. Anakin wished he had more time. He felt like he was getting somewhere. Not just with Obi-Wan, but with himself as well. He was supposed to realize something, he knew it. Something important. It would have to wait. “Do you feel better?” Obi-Wan asked.
It felt nice to be honest about it, and he nodded. “Yes, master.” He hadn’t remembered the last time something like this had helped. Really, he hadn’t remembered the last time he had even done something like this. Who told him that it wouldn’t help? Who told him that this was no longer a good thing? If someone like Obi-Wan was one to do it on a basis, someone as wise and good as him, would it not be good for Anakin as well?
He had so much more to think about.
“Then come, dear one,” Obi-Wan replied, gently. But there was a bit of an edge to it, something Anakin couldn’t quite identify. Perhaps it was just preparation on what was to come. Anakin didn’t really know if Obi-Wan felt something strong like he did about slavery, he doubted it. Obi-Wan hadn’t been a slave for any length of time, but that didn’t mean he had to like it either. The Jedi in general, were doing their best, even before the war, but it just wasn’t enough. With the restrictions in the senate, the illegal activities and simply their lack of numbers, there was only so much the jedi could do. Sometimes Anakin forgot that. “Go fetch your apprentice and meet me in the docking bay. We have a lot to do and an uncertain timetable,” he added. It was technically an order, but it hadn’t felt like it.
Resolute. Anakin nodded.
Ahsoka was raring to go, and they gathered a few soldiers to accompany them. No doubt Obi-Wan and Commander Cody were doing the same. Kix was anxious with the disappearance of Jesse and his other brothers and declared it would be best, in case either someone got hurt or they came across someone who was hurt. He was a good soldier and warrior anyways, even if he wasn’t a medic, Anakin probably would have brought him along. Appo was always a great addition. He was calm and smart, and he was good at keeping people together, although at the moment, they were all a little confused. Perhaps Obi-Wan had promoted him and didn’t tell him? He kept calling the sergeant, commander. It wasn’t completely out of character for Obi-Wan to promote someone and not tell them immediately. And then Dogma was with them as well. In their kerfuffle, he had just slid back into the 501st, looking over what had happened with Krell, keeping rather close to his commanders. Anakin wouldn’t hold it against him; he was trying to be loyal. He just had some bugs to work out, no big deal.
Several 212th boys were waiting with them, armed to the teeth and ready to fight. They had the same calm air that Obi-Wan usually carried around them with something else, as if they were chomping at the bit. Their eyes would darken into something violent and dangerous. This mission was personal. He could understand that. Anakin did realize most of them had been around their meditation study not a few hours prior. He remembered the way Obi-Wan had relaxed in their presence. He still hated that Obi-Wan had relaxed more with them than with Anakin himself, they were his troops, Anakin was his padawan, but he did comprehend something at least. Anakin had his go to’s and favorites, he supposed Obi-Wan did too.
It was an odd thing to think about.
Boarding the upcoming slave ship was rather easy. A single slave ship was no match for even one of the venator ships, much less two. The Negotiator and the Resolute boxed them quite easily and the gunships were off. And any crew of slavers was no match for a single squad of troopers, much less a squad led by a jedi.
Led by several jedi.
It didn’t mean the slaver did not try, however, because they did. Their efforts were a strange mix of amusing and annoying. They tried to shoot at them, threw smoke bombs and other small explosives. Closed normal and blast doors, others reinforced but no matter what, it wasn’t a match for the power and heat of their lightsabers. They could just burn through.
Anakin kept breathing.
He wouldn’t let his anger control him, not with Obi-Wan watching. He had so much to prove. He stayed rather close to his former master and Ahsoka ended up veering off with Master Vos. It wasn’t something that was particularly on his mind. He and Master Vos didn’t always get along but there was something he could trust him with, it was Ahsoka. After all, Master Vos had somehow raised someone as good as Aalya Secura, he must be somewhat decent.
Obi-Wan was…fighting different.
Anakin, he knew how Obi-Wan fought. They had sparred frequently, fought alongside one another constantly, Obi-Wan taught him and Anakin dared to think he had taught Obi-Wan a thing or two as well. They had always been well synced with one another, fighting together like one entity. Mostly because they had been fighting with other another for so long. And it wasn’t just in his padawanship, they were matched together often times during his knighthood too, during the war. Sure, Anakin was technically under Obi-Wan’s command, as the older jedi was a high general, but still, their groups meshed together well. The 501stand 212th worked seamlessly together, just like their generals did. At their best, together, they were an opponent to not be underestimated. One to be feared.
But here, now, it was different. He was different. It was not the same really, they weren’t quite as good. He shouldn’t say that. They were still fantastic, a foe and duo to be feared, undoubtedly, even with their step away from one another. But it wasn’t quite as right as Anakin knew it normally was. Not quite as in sync with each other’s moves as they were before. Oh, how things could change. In a day. Fifteen years. He didn’t like it.
Had it changed so suddenly? Or had this been a slow change? One that had been coming around?
Anakin had known Obi-Wan since he started seriously started practicing Soresu. It was a form he had mastered well. He knew that the older jedi had started off with Aratu, a form he had used against the Sith during the blockade of Naboo. Anakin had watched the security tapes over and over and over again. Many times. He had quickly after that switched over to another form. Anakin had watched as he weighed the pros and cons of each one before finally settling on Soresu, the defensive form. Anakin had asked him why once. He was so good at Aratu, even others had told him that. Obi-Wan had always just looked sad when it was brought up.
“There are so many holes in Aratu, nothing for defense,” he had said.
Anakin hadn’t completely understood it at the time. Of course, he had been ten at the time, so he didn’t really understand much but over time, he did sort of get it. Obi-Wan was haunted by the death of his master, his inability to protect him, although, looking over so many of the tapes so many times, Anakin knew there was nothing he could have done, even if Obi-Wan had been using Soresu during that period. He was trapped behind a barrier, alone.
Sometimes he wondered who was left alone. Had Obi-Wan just not been fast enough? Or had Qui-Gon just ran ahead, recklessly without heed?
Obi-Wan, turned out, was amazing at Soresu, and his demeanor shifted to accommodate that. He was patient and enduring. A good defensive form in contrast to Anakin’s own, more aggressive Shien form.
Soresu was built on defensive blocks and impenetrable shields, which Obi-Wan used to the fullest. It was possibly the most perfect fit for wartime, this wartime, especially against the blaster bolts they were constantly up against, as it was used to deflect and redirect attacks. It didn’t rely on raw power like some of the other forms, raw power that Anakin knew he himself had and Obi-Wan rather lacked.
But that did not make Obi-Wan any less dangerous.
But this…it was still Soresu, the one he was using now, was still identifiable, still the form, still a dance, still an impenetrable shield of defensive blocks…but there was something different about the way he moved. Technical. Mechanical. Something Anakin had never seen before
Soresu often times was criticized because of its lack of offensive attacks and strokes. What good was a defense if you could not defeat your enemy, only block them?
Anakin had thought that once. But he had seen Obi-Wan use that defense to defeat many enemies, including himself.
But this, what Obi-Wan was doing now, even though it was still Soresu, as Anakin could tell, but something was added. Something more raw and powerful, a bit more force behind actual blows that could take instead of just defend. It was Soresu but something was added, something Anakin had not really seen.
What had Obi-Wan done in the future?
He was further, just slightly out of sync with Anakin, a step forward. Was this a sign? Was he being left in the past? Had he lost Obi-Wan forever?
Obi-Wan had never been particularly cruel, sometimes even lacking efficiency in exchange for chance, for mercy and compassion. It had paid off on more than one occasion, even Anakin could admit that, as much as he wanted to just take people down. But that was not the case here. The Soresu master was a whirlwind – giving each of the slaver crew one chance and one chance only – if even that – to surrender and lay down arms. Of course, more often than not, they didn’t. Obi-Wan did not keep giving chances. He did not go out to kill either, Anakin could not imagine his old master doing that, but several slavers lost appendages and others incapacitated by other means. Some would not survive their wounds. Anakin found he didn’t mind.
Obi-Wan hadn’t even paused as he went through the halls, making a straight path to the bridge, where certainly the captain and his closest crew were holed up. They didn’t stand a chance. He barely gave Anakin time to redirect the power in the door to make it open before he went to strike his saber right through it. But when the door did open, he strode in, completely in charge, with a posture to match. There was an air of unyielding, of no chance at all. He did not care what they wanted, and he was not here to negotiate. He was here to take.
“Hello there,” he greeted, although his voice was hard and his tone rather bored with the entire scenario. The captain and a few others just stared, their hands on their weapons, pointed at them. Anakin smirked. “I am General Kenobi, and I am here to take over your ship and relieve you. You of the slaves.”
The captain tried to fight him. He charged and Anakin was all ready to fight back; with his saber at the ready to defend Obi-Wan and take the being down. But Obi-Wan put a gentle hand on his arm before spinning his saber, almost lazily. Anakin barely even saw it move. The captain was on the ground then, crumpled on the floor. Unconscious or dead, Anakin didn’t know. It didn’t matter.
“We must move quickly if we are to keep with the ship’s schedule,” he said and stepped over the slaver, away from him. The rest of the crew had surrendered, staring at their employer with such wide eyes, one might have thought they were no longer inhabiting their bodies. Anakin snarled at the slaver on the ground but bounced after his former master with renewed interest.
The cargo bay had quite a number of slaves in it, spreading several species and people. It was not a large ship by any means. It wasn’t as though Anakin had seen many ships, particularly, that were crowded with slaves, but there was a good dozen or two huddled together. They were cowering and kept to the walls, away from them, many chained to the walls. Obi-Wan just glanced at him, eyes soft and sympathetic and dragging him out to walk into the middle, with a translator droid hot on their heels, before tugging down for him to sit down with him. Anakin followed what he was doing.
Their level. Smaller, less threat. Taking off weapons and setting them away. Within sight of them so they could see. Everything laid bare, just like them.
“Frightened and scared beings act fairly universal,” Obi-Wan hummed under his breath, sad and tired.
He took a breath and told the droid to translate for any of the slaves who did not speak basic.
“My name is jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and we are here to help you,” he started, his voice gentle and kind, but loud enough for those who knew the language to hear it. Beside him, the droid called out in another language that Anakin wasn’t entirely sure he knew. “In a few minutes, you can be taken aboard a Republic cruiser, where your chips and collars will be deactivated and removed. You may eat and rest and will be given clothes. Troopers will come around to ask what you would like to do moving forward,” he gave a pause, allowing the droid to translate the passage. The slaves look tentative. “You may accompany my troopers to Coruscant where you will stay at the Jedi Temple until you can start new lives where you would like, contact families and home worlds if you have them or find a new place to settle.”
Anakin just stared at his master, silently. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting really. Was this it? Was this not? His head was swimming.
“Over there is Sergeant Barlex,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing beside him as he continued and the droid relayed the words, even pointing over to the clone as well. Anakin looked up and sure enough, several clone troopers stood by him, none of which had their weapons on them at the moment. He made a gesture, and the troopers removed their helmets, revealing their generally identical faces. Anakin stared at them, reaching out, as if he could just memorize them right here and right now. These were some of the troopers that Obi-Wan cared for, that he trusted and loved. Anakin should trust them too, at the very least. Because he did, to some extent, have to. Trust them with Obi-Wan’s life, especially when he was not around. “He and troopers Gearshift, Crys and Threepwood will be assisting you.”
Carefully and slowly, Anakin stood up and he walked over to one of the slaves, kneeling down in front of them, keeping his hands where they could see him and telegraphed his movements. He gave them some bread that he tucked away in his robe and handed out pieces for them to share. “There is plenty more where that came from,” he promised. He wasn’t entirely sure if they could understand his words, but they seemed to get his meaning.
“Please do be kind to them, Sergeant,” he heard Obi-Wan’s voice behind him.
“Of course, sir,” the trooper replied, curtly, but his voice was surprisingly understanding, and kind, despite the gruffness of it. “Keep yourself alive. And bring our kid back home, would you?”
Our kid? Anakin hadn’t known that some of the 212th troopers already knew Luke. Already knew him enough to like him, to be a bit rather protective. Was it that easy and simple to bond with them? Could Anakin have that with even Obi-Wan’s troops so effortlessly?
Obi-Wan nearly laughed. “Of course, sergeant. You quite like him, don’t you?”
Barlex shrugged as Anakin made his way back over to them, upon giving several slaves a few things of bread. He had kind of stuffed his pockets and robes and sleeves with them. Water wouldn’t have kept in the battle or a fight, but food was the next best thing. “He’s a good kid. Strong head on his shoulders. Calm, determined. Not a great listened, sneaking off with Lieutenant Waxer’s platoon but, well, it seems to run in the family.” He almost even sounded amused. That didn’t seem normal for the trooper from what he could tell.
Anakin’s former master snorted. “Ah, you have no idea, Sergeant,” he chuckled.
“We’ve got this, sir,” another trooped nodded next to him. “We will get all the people off the ship pronto so you and the others can move on schedule.”
Another nod. “Thank you, Threepwood.”
“Gearshift is rounding up the crew, preparing for departure.”
“Departure?” Anakin asked, curiously.
“Since we cannot technically free slaves and take down slavers due to the Chancellor’s emergency powers,” Obi-Wan growled, more than just a bit bitter. Anakin continued to be mildly surprised. He wondered why that was. “We will…ahem…convince and persuade them to abandon the people and scatter.”
“We cannot arrest them?” Anakin hissed.
“The Chancellor says he does not want to strain relationships with the Hutts and other powerful entities,” Quinlan Vos snorted as he and Anakin’s padawan walked up and united with them. She was practically bouncing, her eyes fiery with justice and a readiness to battle. “So, he’s been easy on their…employees and their occupation of choice.”
Anakin swallowed. That…could not be right.
That could not be right. No way that…
His thoughts were interrupted by Obi-Wan’s next words, his voice growing loud, as if he was trying to drown out Anakin’s thoughts. “Are there any other beings or things aboard that need to be moved?”
Anakin was technically paying attention, but his eyes were on the slaves that were gently being led by the troopers, sans their weapons, off the ship and towards the larger vessels. Someone had landed the Negotiator already, so the people were being led straight into the docking bay, away from the horrid place that was once a slave ship.
One of the troopers did have his weapon, but he was rounding up those that were obviously slavers and masters. Anakin stared at him for a long moment. The gear tattoo on him was interesting in some mundane, distracting way. It almost looked like was moving, like real gears.
“A few animals,” Ahsoka replied, easily. “Not any big ones, but a few small ones. Generally friendly.”
“Probably used as pets,” Obi-Wan mused. “Commander, can you get one of the boys to start hauling any living thing off as well? I don’t want to have to worry about any of them when we move on.”
Anakin imagined the trooper nodded but he was watching everything else instead.
“Anakin?”
He startled and turned around. Everyone was staring at him. “Huh?”
“I called your name a couple of times. Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked, still hesitant, but no less worried.
He frowned. “I can handle myself.”
“That is not in question,” his former master cleared his throat as he spoke carefully, like he wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. It almost made Anakin scowl because Obi-Wan had never been this uncertain about and around him before. It was incredibly frustrating. “But I know this situation is difficult for you and that is completely understandable. It is not a question of your ability, dear one.”
Anakin nearly melted right then and there. Obi-Wan froze, only for a brief second, as though he hadn’t realized he had said the sweet endearment. Had it been such a while since Obi-Wan had called him that? For him, he supposed, it had been fifteen years. For Anakin…had it been long? Why did he stop? Did he stop at all or did Anakin just stop paying attention?
“Anakin?”
He blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“Are you sure you want to go to Zygerria?”
“I went the last time, didn’t I?”
Obi-Wan hesitated and glanced away briefly before looking back straight at him. He looked so concerned. Was he worried that Anakin would fall apart right then and there? When Obi-Wan needed him in the heat of the middle of the mission? He wouldn’t, of course, and Obi-wan’s lack of faith disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Anakin wondered what had happened last time; if he had let Obi-Wan down in such a way. “Yes,” he replied, cautious and slow. “And suffice to say, it did not particularly end well on any notion of the time.”
“What happened?”
The older man swallowed and glanced at Master Vos. Anakin huffed. Of course, he knew. “Did you tell Master Vos?”
“No,” Obi-Wan mumbled. “He just knows me. We have been friends for quite some time, if you recall.” Oh, he could. “And aside from rescuing the colonists of Kiros, the mission before did not go particularly well. It was different than what we are doing now of course, but no one was put in a good position, least of all you.”
He wanted to bristle. He really did, but the look on Obi-Wan’s face made him stop. Something had changed. Maybe it was the look on his face or maybe it was the way Anakin was seeing that look on his face. Like, something he hadn’t quite noticed before. It was as if he could see what Luke was talking about. The grief, the infinite sadness. Had Anakin put that on him? It wasn’t pity, but rather empathy, of kindness and just wanting better for him, not about him.
Obi-Wan didn’t mean anything poorly by it, Anakin thought to himself and for some reason, that realization just floored him. He was just trying to protect him. Even if he didn’t want him to, even if Anakin could protect himself, Obi-Wan continued to do so. Was it really because Obi-Wan didn’t think he could do it himself, that he didn’t have the faith in Anakin’s abilities? Or was he just so used to it that it was just second nature. Obi-Wan had spent over ten years protecting him, teaching him. He supposed that wasn’t something he could just turn off. But then again, after all, wasn’t Anakin trying to do the same thing, all the time.
“I’ll be okay,” he vowed, walking back over to them and taking his place at Obi-Wan’s side before anyone else could snatch it from him, shooting a bit of a glare at Master Vos and the other troopers, pointedly trying to avoid Ahsoka so she would not see it. “And if I’m not, I will tell you.”
That surprised his former master, but his expression was quickly washed away by calm and pleasant gratitude. “Alright, I believe you.”
Anakin swallowed. He would not lie to Obi-Wan.
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snowydaffodils · 3 years
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Flustered
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3501 words | 2nd Person POV
A Yoon Jeonghan fluff, prompt, how you met, how you (hinted) eventually dated, where you're an actress and he's the other lead actor. Enjoy your new years! 🎉
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Yoon Jeonghan is very rarely flustered. If anything, he's usually the cause of all the flustering - twelve boys can back you up on that. He'd make fun of your height, poke your cheeks, comment cutesy compliments as you work together, flirt playfully, and make fun of how stupid your character sounds.
Indeed, you accepted this role fully aware of the awfully pure and slow-witted character the scriptwriter had written down. Throughout your years in acting, even if this was your very first lead role, you had never gone easy on the rest of the roles you had received. You live and understand them, think like them, and every single character you've performed have now become a part of you. But of course, the closest character to you now is this easily distracted girl who just blushes all the time.
So for the course of eight months, you've acted with all your might, and this is the you that Jeonghan knew. You weren't exactly innocent and slow-witted just like the character, but a bit of the character influenced your own personal traits. The fun to tease, cute, and adorably likable girl. Just like you, it was his first lead role in a drama, and the first one in Seventeen to land on one, too, even if he wasn't the first one to be in one. He had curiously accepted a side role before, right after his military release, and just as the group were exploring their own careers whilst waiting to reunite again as a whole. That side role, with the help of his previous acting lessons, drowned him into the world of acting once more, and he fell in love with the art of the screen more than he ever did before.
Your first impression on him during the first cast meeting was that he looked heavenly. It was like his cheekbones were sculpted to perfection and no one could tell you otherwise. You were incredibly starstruck and in awe that you stuttered in making your first introductions. It didn't help that he was smooth with his words, too, making you sound incredibly nervous as opposed to him.
"Hi, I'm Jeonghan from Seventeen, and I'll be taking the lead role in this drama. Please take care of me."
"Hi, I'm play, uh, playing the lead gull, I mean g-girl."
Had he smiled politely and continued the conversation like nothing had happened, maybe you wouldn't have been too embarrassed, but also maybe you wouldn't have let your guards down to know and befriend him personally. Instead, he had laughed at you with all the stomach power he had. He never lets you forget that you stuttered so badly as you introduced yourself for the first time the entire day. He even made his own reasons (you wouldn't admit them, but they couldn't have been more true) as to why you stuttered.
"Nervous? I'm super charming, aren't I?" his ego is surely out of bounds as he said that, a smirk donning his lips. "I know, I'm surprised at myself, too sometimes."
You hit him on the arm, your cheeks growing in color. "I'm a big fan of Seventeen, but I didn't realize that you're this cheeky."
He laughed, so genuinely and purely, and you smiled, already warmed up to him. He made friends with you quickly, and from all the behind the scenes footage, he was quick to melt his awkward-i-just-met-you exterior and interacted with you as he would with his members. Jeonghan was this tall, built, and handsome man, and he owned unreal facial features that made everyone wonder if he was indeed human just like everyone else. He was perfect for his role: the cold, sly, and dominating lead in the series. It was the complete opposite of your character, and with his friendliness, it was easy for you to quickly build up chemistry and work well with him, but as you two get closer, the more playful he became.
"You're the love of my life," he recited his lines, cheesy as it is, to which you became shy to and shrank as he got closer and closed his lips to yours.
He was quick to tease your blushes after the director's "Cut!" in each kissing scene, and would tease you easily at other romantic or heart fluttering scenes you had to do.
"Aww, that's cute, you're blushing again! I can hear your heart fluttering," he would say. "Then again, I am charming."
And in each time, you were always caught in his trap, stuck in the moment, and your heart follows his lead, ignoring all the other self-restraining signals your head was screaming about. He'd laugh right after he got a reaction out of you, and the grin he'd give you would linger in your head for the rest of the day.
There was another day when one of his members - Joshua - came to support as a cameo, and it felt like Jeonghan was on booster or something. He introduced you to Joshua, who was sweet, polite, and a perfect gentleman, but then Jeonghan continued to tease you the entire day Joshua was there. He made sure to remind Joshua how cute you were so many times throughout the day. At that point you were actually getting used to Jeonghan's antics, but him teasing you in front of a new person puts you on another level of flustered.
"Hey Josh, meet the love of my life," Jeonghan said, using his scripted lines.
Joshua, while he was nicer than Jeonghan, still played along sometimes. "Then I'll call you member-in-law!" He said.
Your birthday was on a filming day, and he managed to fool you to think that you had hurt his feelings by giving him comments on his acting as per usual (you were sure you weren't saying anything bad, but he kept directing it to be a negative one). He started showing acts of distaste and, at one point, even yelled at you and left the room.
It was heart-wrenching to watch him leave - you never wanted to hurt his feelings, you just wanted to help and support him and the drama entirely. Guilt washed over you quickly, and tears piled in your eyes. The crew was looking at you so judgmentally, and all you wanted to do was go home, lock the doors, and hide under your covers. You didn't know what to do, and some of the crew even went to you to convince you that he just needed to blow off steam and he'll be back and you can apologize when he gets back.
You wanted to scream and rip his hair off when he came back with a cake, singing Happy Birthday like nothing happened. Your tears flowed like a river though, because you genuinely thought that Yoon Jeonghan, this man, was actually angry at you to the point that he put it to display to everyone who was present and even yelled at you.
"Don't cry!" he laughed at you, taking the cream from the cake and swiping your cheeks with his finger. "You'll look ugly. We have to take a picture with this cake!"
You cursed at him for the first time since you've known him, but he only chuckled and patted your back to calm down your sniffles (you glared at his finger until he wiped the cream away first, though). He gave you a friendly hug and you hit him to prove the point that you were upset, and it was a loud slap in the back that everyone was surprised but laughed at. Apparently, a behind-the-scenes camera was on and recording the entire surprise; Jeonghan remembered this and went to the camera to tell on you. He complained really loudly, "Carats, she hit me!" he pointed at you playfully.
You were still sniffling, snots everywhere and you eyes still bawling with tears. "Y-you deserve it!" you screamed.
On the last day of filming, you had laughed everything off, remembering everything that happened during the course of filming and engraving every memory to your heart. It was surely an indescribable experience. The crew had been super nice, and they felt like a second family to you. The cast members became your best friends, including the one and only Yoon Jeonghan. You thanked Jeonghan, the rest of the cast, and the entire crew for all their hard work, hugged your co-stars tightly, and told Jeonghan to stay in contact with you even after it all ended because you'd miss him.
"Hey, but don't be a stranger," you told him. "I think I'm too used to having you around, its gonna be hard to live peacefully, now."
He smiled, pinched your cheeks and said, "Did you think I'm gonna stop just because the drama ended? You should've seen me annoy my members even from the military base."
You rolled your eyes at him, "I wouldn't dare to assume you'd do anything less."
And he kept to his word. Though there hadn't been any opportunities for both of you to meet each other again (variety shows and interview promotions were done during the course of filming), he still contacts you day-to-day, even if only to send a meme he found of you and laugh at you through text.
"You really DO look like you've got a frog in your mouth! Hahahaha!"
This went on through the rest of the year until the Award Shows started to busy every single celebrity available, finally announcing the invites, MCs, performances, and nominees to each award they have. Your drama with Jeonghan had hit it big as fans were so happy to watch both of you interact (also, maybe because Woozi sang the main OST, and Scoups' rap on the OST was fire), and you were invited to almost every single one of them as a nominee for multiple awards.
It was first assumed, then implied, but it was also because he was actually sweet enough to ask you personally, that you were officially his date to every one of the award shows your drama was nominated in. You agreed, not because he was your co-star, but because he was a genuinely nice and fun person to spend time with. You were also very excited, not just because you were nominated, but also because this time you were going to finally present your original and true self to Yoon Jeonghan and the world. The other characters within you screamed in delight as you excitement rose, and you had planned everything out, determined to show that you are not just a simple easily teased girl that Yoon Jeonghan bullies on.
On the very first show you wore a white gown - the top part was gold glitter with a heart neckline, and it corseted your figure, highlighting all the important curves in your body. Down your dress, the fabric flowed in an A-line skirt, transparency growing in a gradient as it reached the bottom, your strapped golden heels visible within your skirt. You put your half your hair into a braid and curled the rest. With curtain-like gold earrings and white diamonds shining out of the strands, Jeonghan was stunned when he saw you for the first time. Your make up was different from what he was used to, and a mature-like pureness aura radiates from you. He didn't know what to say, muted to say the least. He had never seen you like that, and once both of you reached the red carpet, his hand on your back as a gentlemanly support to guide you through the reporters, he noticed how straight you walked, and how you carried yourself so gracefully. The reporters were asking questions, but he left the answering to you as he continued to stay stunned through the red carpet. It was only when you both had finally taken your seats when he finally relaxed and converse normally again.
The minimum movements you emitted, just enough to be polite and to please your audience were not missed by the man, and he observed the details of your interactions to the utmost adoration. Your gracefulness had struck a chord in his heart and he was awed to say the least.
He ended the night with a shy smile and an "Oh, and by the way, you were absolutely beautiful tonight." The sincerity of his tone didn't go unnoticed and you didn't forget to thank him before going separate ways. It was oddly out of character of him to do, but you liked the new side of him you have yet to explore.
The next show, you opted for a bright red designer's gown. This one, fitting to its price tag, created this absolutely stunning silhouette, and while it did not sparkle or glitter, its muted red still create a distinction of you and made you shine. The designed folds in your dress accented your figure even more, and with a looser fabric, the skirt of your dress was made longer so it could trail behind you as you walk. Your hair was gathered up into one straight ponytail, a pretty simple hairdo to gather attention to your striking gown for the night.
Jeonghan didn't recognize you when he first was led to your changing room. You didn't just look like a different person, you feel like one, too. He didn't even realize that he held his breath as he looked at you. The stylist were so proud of their efforts and Jeonghan's reaction had them giggling and teasing him. "She's incredibly beautiful, isn't she?"
He barely managed a "yes" before you could chuckle and said to him, "Well look who's being shy, now."
At this, he returned a laughter of his own. He didn't bother hiding his surprised expression. "You got me. You look incredible."
Your outfit and style of the day, added with your elegance and poise as you conducted yourself in front of the reporters and other celebrities had Jeonghan staring at you for a while, and quite numerous whiles. He absolutely adored you. There was a surging feeling of wholesome pride as he stood beside you, his hand on your back as he escorted you through the venue. Even as he teased you as he answered the reporters' questions, you had retained your poise as you held it within yourself not to be flustered easily by this man. You had a year worth of practice for that.
"Isn't she beautiful? I'm such a fan of hers," Jeonghan whispered to the reporters, his playful grins and chuckles evident as he interacted happily. "She doesn't look like her character now, does she?"
You chuckled along with him, but dragged him to stop him from acting like a fan on the red carpet. He laughed and after a few tries of refusing your urges to move on, eventually let it go and allowed you to pull him forwards. As you moved on, he placed his hand on your back just like how he usually does, as a sign that he was right there walking with you.
The third time though, Jeonghan was speechless. He barely spoke through the course of the night, and his eyes never left you.
You wore a black designer's gown this time, with sequinned patterned Qs coming from your neck down to your knees before the skirt spreads out to hide your silver heels. It was a mermaid gown and it hugged your figure nicely. The skirt was actually more flowy that you thought, but it added a nice touch. You wore silver earrings and diamond hair pieces as you put your hair up in the most elegant updo Jeonghan had ever seen. He was already stunned when he saw you for the first time, but he almost choked when you turned around only for him to realize that your gown was completely backless.
Now, where is he supposed to place his hand again?
His face was flushed and when you turned to finally go out the door, you see his face filled with more red than you've ever seen. While his face was kind of salvaged by the foundation he used, the makeup couldn't help his neck from turning red as well.
"Yoon Jeonghan, are you sick?" you asked aloud, gaining the attention of all staff members present, all their eyes pointed at the man in question. "Or are you actually blushing?"
Your second question snapped him out of his haze (and had many of the stylists and make up artists giggling) as he looked at you for a few seconds, and you were starting to actually worry, before he eventually puts his hand on his forehead, covering his face.
"God, you'll be the death of me. Let's go before I embarrass myself any further."
He was indeed blushing, and his statement confirmed that for you. You laughed, but you can't help but feel you cheeks tinting a little pink from his confession. He linked your arm with his and went out together.
The first few minutes into the red carpet, Jeonghan did his best not to have direct contact with your back. He was blushing the entire time, had to ask the interviewers to repeat themselves a couple of times, and his hand was going to unsure places like your shoulder or your waist, which he was also not confident about, and eventually just lingers a few inches away from your back, like in mid-air. The so-called manner hands.
It wasn't as reassuring as having his hand on your back like the previous times you both had gone through this. His focus was also off as he tried to avoid the contact, and just moved his hand when you moved as well. You sighed and just pulled his hand to slightly slap your back, and you pointed a look at Jeonghan's direction, telling him to stop fidgeting through your eyes.
He blushed.
"Jeonghan, are you not feeling well?" one of the reporters asked.
He seemed to click then and there. His honest self couldn't help himself as he answered, "Oh yeah, she just looks gorgeous tonight, I can't take my eyes off of her."
When he finally comprehended his own words, he fumbled and stuttered. "I-I mean," he tried to reason, but the stars in the reporters' eyes were showing that they heard everything he said, and some of them squealed in delight.
"Why, thank you," you turned to face him, your smile directed for him.
He was stunned - again.
"Oh, let's just go," he said shyly, one of his hands reaching to his neck to feel just how warm he had gotten.
That night, both of you had received a daesang award, but Jeonghan kind of added a few more elements to his acceptance speech.
"Hi, this is Seventeen's Jeonghan. This acting experience was truly incredible and there's so many people who should know that they are the reason for this award. I want to thank Carats, who have always been there for me through thick and thin, and my members who have been watching and supporting me, especially to Joshua who became a cameo, my parents and my family members who had been with me from the very start, the staff members, Pledis, directors, pd-nim, and all the crew members. This is not possible without any of you. And special thanks to," Jeonghan moved his eyes on you, and he didn't know why then and there, your name disappeared from his head and instead replaced with that one line that had caught all the viewers' heart as they watched the drama.
"The love of my life - " he stopped when he realized what he just said, and realized he had kind of just confessed on national TV. "I mean, M-my co-star."
You stood there surprised at how flustered Yoon Jeonghan could be, and stunned that you were the main reason that he was fumbling on the stage and his ears redder than ever. He caught himself before he did anything else and finished his speech nicely.
"Anyways, uh, thank you for this award, I'll work even harder to be a better actor and come back with more for you all. Thankyou!"
It was your turn after him to deliver your speech, and suddenly the trophy on your hands became heavier than it actually was. Jeonghan turned his back to walk back to the spot beside you as you move forward, and you can see a small smile tugging the corners of his lips. When you were brushing against each other before you took the mic, he whispered, just loud for you to hear, and short enough to go unnoticed.
"Yes, that was my confession to you. Will you go out with me?"
All eyes were on you and all lights were on you when you felt like you bit your tongue and couldn't speak.
The MCs were waiting for your speech, and nudged you to start when you seem lost.
"Ah, yes, I mean, no, I mean yes!"
Yoon Jeonghan really knows how to fluster you, even in his most flustering moments.
---
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dyketanger · 3 years
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S with JZX & NHS
S/19: Walking to their home through a storm. Also posted on AO3.
Set during the Cloud Recesses lectures. Contains a non-graphic appearance by Nie Huaisang’s library of smutty literature.
Nie Huaisang curses under his breath as he hurries down the path, hunching his shoulders to protect his precious books from the pounding rain. Gusu summers are wet enough that the storm shouldn’t have caught him off guard, but the morning had just been so clear and warm that he’d gotten complacent, heading out to the back hill to do some private reading on the sunwarmed rocks and maybe spot a few birds. The sky had given him less than five minutes’ warning between the first clouds rolling in and the rain pouring down, which with Cloud Recesses’ meandering paths and spread out buildings, wasn’t anywhere near enough time to get back to shelter.
In Qinghe, this wouldn’t be a problem, he thinks sourly as water runs down the back of his neck, sneaking through his hair and under his robes. The Unclean Realm may sprawl, but it sprawls like a hulking beast, haunches tucked under itself, ready to spring. The largest empty spaces are the training grounds and the gardens by the main family’s quarters, and those are all bordered by roofed walkways, to shelter under when the winter snow is gusting.
There’s a pavilion coming up on his left, if he remembers correctly; maybe he can take shelter  there until the worst of the storm passes. He pushes himself into a sprint, gasping for breath as he hurtles down the path and rounds the corner—
There’s a person in the way.
Nie Huaisang wheezes as the collision knocks the wind out of him and throws him down onto the path, losing his grip on one of the books. The other person lands on top of it, but they scramble to their feet before Nie Huaisang can even get his breath back, hauling him up and dragging him bodily into the pavilion.
“Watch where you’re headed!” Jin Zixuan snaps, dumping him on one of the stone benches. There’s smudges of mud flecked across the front of his pale robes, the Sparks Amid Snow on his left shoulder stained with spots of dark brown, and the hand that isn’t locked around Nie Huaisang’s elbow is clutching the dropped book, bent open to an illustration halfway through.
“Sorry!” Nie Huaisang finally manages to catch his breath, leaning against the small table and setting down the two books that have survived his rainy mishap. “Sorry, ah, sorry, Jin-xiong, I didn’t see you there, but—you didn’t seem to see me either, right?” He lets out a nervous laugh.
Jin Zixuan huffs and rolls his eyes. “Careless,” he mutters, and then, “...are you alright? That was a rough landing.”
Nie Huaisang takes a moment to assess his body. A line of bruises is forming along the outside of his right leg, from knee to hip, and his elbow feels like he’s skinned it, but it’s nothing serious; around anyone else, he’d make a big fuss to get pampered, but there’s greater tragedies to bemoan right now. “I’m fine, but...”
He stares mournfully at his now-ruined book, crumpled and dripping in Jin Zixuan’s hand. It’s a new one, a cutsleeve volume devoted to a sordid tale of bondage and overstimulation, rare and exotic—such a shame that the pages are now likely soaked and the ink running. Jin Zixuan hasn’t seemed to realize he’s holding it yet.
Now that’s a thought; Nie Huaisang pulls out his fan to hide a smile. The sight of the haughty young master of Koi Tower holding a book of cutsleeve pornography, the clear illustrations of male pleasure spread out behind his fingers, is an amusing (and quite attractive) one, but he would like to find out if any part of the book is salvageable. “Ah... Jin-xiong... if you wouldn’t mind, could I have my book back?”
Jin Zixuan glances down at the volume—and then drops it like he’s been burned.
Nie Huaisang can’t help it; he bursts into laughter, cackling at the way Jin Zixuan stumbles back, eyes wide in shock, cheeks flushing bright red. “Why are you always carrying such things around in public?” the other boy hisses, glancing down at the offending literature once and then very determinedly looking everywhere but.
The book has, somehow, landed face up, open to the same page. If the illustrations have been damaged, then Nie Huaisang can’t tell from this distance; they’re just as easily discernable as they had been before the unfortunate rainstorm.
“Is this subject matter not to Jin-gongzi’s tastes?” he grins, reaching for his other books. “Don’t worry! This humble servant has a wide assortment of literature to satisfy all manner of desires and interests! With your arrangement over, it’s only natural to indulge your curiosity—”
He’s not expecting the hands that slam down on top of his own, pinning them (and his books) to the table. “You’re. In. Public!” the other boy bites out, his face less than three hands’ widths from Nie Huaisang’s own, and the panic brewing in his eyes makes Nie Huaisang cut his teasing short.
In the split second he has to choose a course of action, he makes note of three things. The first is that all of Jin Zixuan’s objections so far have not centered around the books themselves, but rather looking at then where other people could see. The second is that this is maybe the first time in five months of lectures that he’s seen Jin Zixuan without an entourage.
The third is that he quite likes the sensation of Jin Zixuan’s hands on his own.
“What if...” he says as the silence starts to stretch out for a litte too long, making the carefully calculated move to bite his lip a little when he pauses. It’s bait for a reaction, subtle enough to play off if it’s not appreciated, but judging by the way Jin Zixuan’s eyes flick downward, it’s working well enough. Very interesting. “Hypothetically speaking, of course, pure speculation, nothing more, but... what if we weren’t in public?”
“We?” Jin Zixuan blinks, clearly caught off guard by the implied invitation, but still letting it coax him away from his fears. To his credit, he manages to gather himself enough soldier on. “We’re still—anyone could see—”
“Yes, but what if we weren’t?” Nie Huaisang leans forward, up, peering coyly out from under his eyelashes as he brings them even closer together. His thigh protests lightly, but it’s it worth it for the way Jin Zixuan’s elegant throat works as the other boy swallows, thrown off by his proximity. “I wouldn’t tell. No one would know.”
He isn’t just talking about the books anymore.
Jin Zixuan’s grip has gone slack; Nie Huaisang easily slips one of his hands out from under the other boy’s and sets it on top—lightly, just a little pressure, a little warmth—enough to be thought-provoking. “Well?” he prompts.
Jin Zixuan glances around, making sure they’re still alone, and then lets go and takes a step back. He hesitates briefly as his boot brushes against the book still open on the floor, before bending to pick it up, carefully close it, and set it back on the table, all without looking. “You’re... wet,” he says slowly, as if he’s waiting for someone to yell at him for saying the wrong words, “and cold, and... with your low cultivation, you could easily get sick, so... it’s only right and proper for me to walk you back to your room. To make sure you get there safe. And dry. And without any more... books damaged. Right?”
Nie Huaisang beams and doesn’t even reach for his fan to hide it; he can give Jin Zixuan this much, as a reward. “That sounds perfect, Jin-xiong! Thank you, you’re so good!”
Jin Zixuan blushes again (very prettily, in Nie Huaisang’s opinion) and then steps out into the rain again, to where an umbrella has been lying discarded this whole time, sitting upside down at the spot where they’d collided. He picks it up and hurries back to the pavilion, brushing a little mud off the umbrella’s crown, and Nie Huaisang has the abrupt realization that the reason it had been left sitting there during their whole conversation is because Jin Zixuan had chosen to grab him and his book instead.
Despite the wind and his waterlogged robes, that thought makes him feel rather warm.
“Are you gonna get up, or is that beyond your level of cultivation too?” Jin Zixuan says, and then immediately grimaces, clearly regretting his words.
It’ll take a lot more to offend Nie Huaisang than that; he grins and stands, stowing his fan in his robes and gathering up his books. “How can I resist, when you ask so nicely?” he teases, just to watch Jin Zixuan blush again and look away hastily as he joins him.
The umbrella isn’t big enough for both of them, but as long as Nie Huaisang’s books are sheltered under it, he doesn’t really care. He’s already too soaked for it to make much of a difference, and his cultivation isn’t actually low enough for a little water and a stiff breeze to hurt him (no matter how often he may pretend otherwise). Still, it’s a stroke to his ego, the way Jin Zixuan lets him cling to his elbow and centers the umbrella over him, leaving one of his own arms unprotected, the mud-stained Sparks Amid Snow exposed to the pouring rain.
They don’t meet anyone on the walk, which is probably for the best, despite the part of Nie Huaisang that wants to show off just how much progress he has made on this new conquest (in just ten minutes, too!). In no time at all, they’re back to the covered walkways of Cloud Recesses’ most frequented areas, but even though the umbrella is no longer providing an excuse for closeness, Jin Zixuan doesn’t shake Nie Huaisang off, and Nie Huaisang doesn’t let go himself until they reach his rooms.
He opens the door and then pauses halfway through, pulling out his fan and tapping it to his chin as if he’d just had an idea. “Oh! It would be discourteous of me to not offer refreshments after you so kindly sheltered and guarded me on my perilous journey. Perhaps you could join me for some tea?”
Jin Zixuan doesn’t respond right away, frozen just outside, a variety of emotions flickering across his face. They’re mostly too fast for Nie Huaisang to read, but he manages to pick out a few—apprehension, nerves, and... something else, something deep-seeded, a fear he can barely see—
Oh.
Right.
This is a Jin he’s talking to. Someone who’s grown up in Koi Tower. Someone who has to deal with Jin Guangshan as a father.
“Hey,” he says, setting his fan down on the small shelf by the door, “you can say no at any time, alright? And so can I, to anything. Nothing’s gonna happen unless we both agree to it.”
Jin Zixuan slumps a little, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. “Yeah, okay,” he sighs, and steps inside.
Nie Huaisang smiles, and shuts the door behind him.
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hexusproductions · 4 years
Note
I have no idea what No Straight Roads is but I want to know //everything// about it and your oc!! (Only if you want tho, obviously)
I very much want to!! Thank you for giving me an opportunity to gush about my most recent obsession
You can find my basic rundown on No Straight Roads here as well as one on my OC here, along with this post about his relationship with some of the canon characters.
As a refresher, my No Straight Roads OC is named Q-pid, the bread-and-butter for Prometheus Records. Q-pid is actually a lovecore-themed fictional persona, his real name is Pitt. Even though he loves being the character and being a musician, his ideas are usually struck down by his superiors, and he’s limited in what he’s allowed to do and write.
The in-universe ‘lore’ behind Q-pid is that he is a living embodiment of love sent to spread his message world-wide, essentially Cupid reborn. As such, the brand the record label sticks to is that of pure, family-friendly (but also commercialised) love in all of its possible forms. Q-pid has remained popular since his debut and has sparked a large fanbase. Similar to certain real-life persona bands, a variety of usual fandom creativity has popped up, including fanart and headcanons about the fictional character.
The essence of Q-pid’s personality is ‘Sweet as sugar, heart on the sleeve’, which has in fact become the mantra of those playing the character. Pitt, however, has an ego and pride in his musical abilities and appearance (he flaunts the fact that he spends hundreds of dollars into a single outfit alone). These two personalities don’t clash, however that ego occasionally shows in Q-pid.
Here’s some more information that isn’t included in his OG posts that I want to share (since you said everything about the character):
I do think of Q-pid as an optional boss in the game, who you’ll most likely find inside of the main building of Prometheus Records (the label is technically owned by NSR). You won’t get a district from defeating him, but you’ll still get all of the other boss rewards (special abilities, collectibles, etc.).
Pitt is bound by his contract to not let anyone know who he is, so he takes a lot of measures to make sure he’s not seen when out in public as himself. There’s a lot of layers involved clothing-wise, which can be a pain in the summer.
Q-pid has his own official social media account, while Pitt has his own personal one. Q-pid’s account is roughly 50/50 posts made by Pitt (in-character) and promotional posts made by his producers. Pitt’s account is full of things that he likes, but nothing personal.
Some common things you’ll find on Pitt’s personal account include; Numerous phone-recorded videos from the crowds of concerts by musical artists DJ Subatomic Supernova, Rott, and Bunk Bed Junction. Aesthetic photography of clouds, hearts, and fighter jets. Numerous retweets of cat pictures and videos.
Pitt does love the lovecore aesthetic, but he also enjoys the pilot aesthetic (this is most obvious in his go-to clothing item out of character being a bomber jacket). His back-up plan if he fails in the music business is to finally get his pilot’s license.
His favourite colours are mint green and pink
Pitt really wants at least one song where the themes/lyrics take Q-pid in a slightly darker direction. A lot of fanart commonly explores that idea, which both pleases and infuriates Pitt, because clearly it’s something at least some fans want. He even brought up the idea of a ‘bad boy’ costume for just one video, but that was also struck down.
He loves candy hearts and will pick through them for just the right message when giving them to someone, for no reason other than he feels joy from doing it. -- His costume designer implements a bracelet made out of candy hearts (painted wooden beads), which is where the ‘heart on the sleeve’ part of the Q-pid mantra originates, and it’s one of Pitt’s favourite parts of the costume.
I’m really tempted to drop all of Q-pid’s visual references here (the ones that I haven’t shown yet), but I might put all of those into a seperate post.
There are certain things I’m thinking about eventually implementing into Q-pid’s story, but at this point I’m unsure whether I should, since they impact the core element of him being controlled by his managers. Chronologically these events won’t happen for a while.
I really love this character and fully encourage any more questions about him, I plan on making more content in the future.
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chickensarentcheap · 4 years
Text
Sanctuary -Chapter 42
Warnings: none
Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​
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Despite the suffocating humidity and sweltering heat, it's a relief to get out of the hotel. She'd spent the last three days confined within the four walls of their room, trying desperately to keep her mind off of not only what happened at McMann's house, but the terrifying consequences that followed. Plagued by incessant worry about the safety and well being of the kids,  waiting on pins and needless for the random and all to brief updates that Ovi would send throughout the day.  And now the torturous minutes and hours before the IRA would get back to them with their decision.  The fates of the McMann kids...and their own...in the hands of the very kind of people that Tyler went into battle against while on the job.  It's a nauseating turn of events; having to put all of your faith and hope into individuals known world wide for the brutal acts.  To trust them to save lives instead of ending them.
Tanis sticks tight to her side. It was the one and only stipulation that she'd had to agree to for a short couple hours of freedom; the other woman could not leave her side, and under no circumstances was she to wander off on her own. Not even if it was only a couple feet away. There was no telling who was a threat now;  with McMann and the Buckmans working together, their reach is incredibly long and they have endless resources and people at their disposal.  If she wanted to get outside and attempt to function as a 'normal' member of society, she had to have protection at all times.  Tanis is pleasant enough;  talkative,  articulate,  educated on a wide variety of subjects that helps keep conversation lively and fresh. Tall and athletically built; broad shoulders and fit, well toned muscles, her blond hair cropped short to her head in a stylish and modern pixie, dazzling green eyes that are constantly taking in the people and the action around them.   She doesn't carry herself with an unabashed cockiness that most Marines do;  her posture is loose instead of rigid,  she smiles often,  she doesn't puff out of her chest in an attempt to intimate anyone that so as much looks in their direction. To the untrained eyed, they'd appear as if they were just two friends out for a day on the town; chatting and laughing, bags of shopping on their arms. But Esme knew the truth. Which the woman is really there.  And she knows that there's gun tucked into a holster on Tanis' right hip, hidden under the baggy white t-shirt she sports. This is a job. Nothing more, nothing less.  Once it's over, they'll each go back to their separate lives. It's the way things have to be; you don't fraternize with the client. All ties cut the moment the job is finished and money has exchanged hands. It's easier that way. No bonds formed, no feelings hurt.
Ovi is an exception to the rule.    He'd needed further protection; he wasn't safe in Mumbai, not with his father in prison, Saju dead, and Asif's associates looking for payback.  And most importantly, he'd needed a chance at a real life. He'd needed to know what it was like to part of a family. To have people that respect and love him. For far too long he'd gone through life being treated like a thing instead of a person, and it had been a difficult adjustment for him. Going from having 'handlers' and paid help to having parent figures and siblings. It had been a struggle for him to adapt; their rules were incredibly lax compared to those that had been placed upon him in Mumbai, but they were still things that were expected of him.  And he'd struggled to go from the rigidly strict to the rather relaxed and casual.  It wasn't just a chance of scenery, but an entirely different change of pace and a way of life.  No private schools, no chauffeurs taking him place to place. He had set curfew but was allowed to have friends; he could go to the mall, take in a movie, hang out a park. He no longer had people hovering over him and dictating his every move. And as much as he'd hated that life...his old life, it had still been hard to not be controlled in such fashion.
It had been good to talk to him that morning. He'd sounded tired, but he was happy. Secured in his ability to keep himself, Chloe and the kids safe. There was no evidence of fear or uncertainty in his voice. The trust that Tyler had placed him had been an enormous ego boost; he was confident, resolved, with no worries about who may be following them or may try to get to the kids. He would handle it. Those were his exact words. Whatever...whoever...came their way, he wasn't the least bit afraid.  A stark change from the slightly immature and self conscious kid that they'd left behind almost two weeks ago.  And it was the first time since Tyler had told her that he'd put Ovi in charge of their kids that she'd felt truly confident in his decision.
“Forgive me for asking this,” Tanis says, as they wander through the main shopping district; sipping smoothies and chatting like old friends. “And I hope I don't come off to personal or sounding rude.”
“I live with five males, I have been asked an obscene amount of personal questions and pretty much heard every possible rude comment under the sun in the past five and a half years,” Esme grins. “I have two four year old's that are obsessed with fart jokes and think the word 'ass' is the funniest thing they've ever heard. Do you know what that's like? That much 'boy' in one house? I mean, my husband has enough testosterone for half the planet, I swear. Never mind adding in his three mini me's and a teenage boy.”
Tanis laughs. “My parents had all girls. I'm the last of five. I thought that was hell to grow up in.”
“Oh don't get me wrong, I would take five girls over one boy any day. My girl has been a walk in the park compared to raising boys. I mean, she's full of attitude and piss and vinegar, but she's been so easy. She picked up everything so quick and she's been always so eager to learn new things. And she's obsessed with cleanliness and tidiness. But the boys? Oh my god. How do they get pee everywhere? Are they not paying attention? Are they waving it around like firehouse? How does it get on the floor, the baseboards and the wall but none in the actual toilet? Ughhh...” she shudders.  “...that's why I won't clean the bathrooms anymore. That's a man's job. So gross.”
“Sounds like there's never a dull moment at your place,” Tanis grins.
“It's a zoo. I'm not even joking. It's mess and it's noise and it's utter chaos. But at the same time, it's awesome. It's our mess and our noise and our chaos. You get used to it. And you miss it when it's gone. This last week and a half has been hell. Not being under the same roof as them. Not being able to hug them and kiss them and tuck them in at night. I complain about the craziness, but I miss it. As weird as that sounds.”
“That doesn't sound weird to me. That sounds pretty normal, actually. This will all be over. This whole nightmare. And we'll get you back home. Where you belong.”
Esme gives a smile of appreciation.  The words have a nice sentiment behind them, but there's still so much that has be done. So much risk involved.  And she tries to push those thoughts out of her mind.  Not wanting to think about what could go wrong, but what will go right. “What did you want to ask me?” she inquires, as she sips at the smoothie in her hand. It's about all she can stomach. If that. Nothing has been staying down despite the anti nausea (and baby safe) medication a local pharmacist had recommended her. It's always been bad; fatigue and all day sickness (never mind just the morning), but it's never been this bad.
“How the hell did you ever wind up with Mark? Because he's a bit of a...”
“Douche canoe?”
“Well I was going to say prick, but douche canoe works too.  I mean, he's my boss and I have to respect while on the clock and in his presence, but what the fuck is his issue? He's a total ass wipe.”
“And this is him being friendly and diplomatic if you can believe that. This is his good and charming side. Wait until you get to meet the rest of him. It's a real treat. To say the least.”
“How did you ever end up with him? You seem so...I don't know...normal...”
Esme laughs. “Don't ever let Tyler hear you say. He can tell you that I am far from normal.”
“Mark is just so...Mark...and you're just so...you.  You're just both so different from one another.  He treats everyone like shit and you seem so welcoming and friendly with people. I find it hard to believe that someone like you would even get mixed up with such a complete and utter tool.”
“He talked a good game when I first met him.  I hadn't been in the Corps for very long. I didn't have much life experience under my belt. And suddenly this older guy showing interest in me. He was mature, charming, he had a very authoritative way about him that was strangely appealing. He was my commanding officer, so there was that whole rush you get when you know you're going against the rules and there will be hell to pay if you get caught.  I was young. Inexperienced. And stupid. So very, very stupid.”
“Is it true he let a stewardess give him a blow job in the plane bathroom on the way back from your honeymoon?”
“Sadly, yes. That's one hundred percent true. I should have just dumped his ass when that happened. Got the marriage annulled. But he swore he'd never do anything like that again and it was just a 'one off' and he got all that kind of behaviour out of his system.  So I believed him. Stupid little naive girl that I was.”
“So it got worse instead of better?”
'Not right away. It got better. And it stayed that way for about eight months and then he just went off the deep end. He'd gotten back from Iraq and was having a hard time with some of the things he saw and heard over there. Which, don't get me wrong. I get.  That shit fucks with your head. There's even things now that still bother me. Images and sounds and smells that come back out of nowhere. But he went right off the reservation.  It's like something inside him snapped and he couldn't hold back his true self any longer.  I should have left right away...the first time he ever hit me...but...” she shrugs.
“People think it's so easy.  That it's as simple as just packing your things and walking out. That it's not. Nothing is ever that simple.”
“You've been through it too?”
Tanis nods. “My ex husband was the exact same. He was a narcissist. And a sociopath. A violent one. I stayed for three years. I lost everything because of him. My friends, my family. They didn't understand why I didn't just walk away. I tried explaining to them that it wasn't that easy, but they didn't get it.”
“People don't if they haven't lived through it themselves,” Esme reasons. “I used to be one of those people. Who used to judge the women for not leaving. Then I became one  of those women. It woke me the hell up right quick, let me tell you.  I put up with his shit for two and a half years.  And in a way, I'm still putting up with that. That crap never leaves you. It stays in the back of your mind. All the horrible things they've said. All the times they've told you that weren't good enough or that no one could ever possibly love you because of how messed up you are, or that someone could never love you the way they do.  You think you've gotten over it, but you haven't. It's always there.”
“And then when you do meet someone and are happy, all those come out and work against you. And you listen to them. And you believe them.”
“Exactly. It's a vicious circle. It's a horrible existence. And it takes someone really strong and really patient to help you deal with all of that.”
“You found that though,” Tanis smile. “Someone like that. You're one of the lucky ones.”
“I have put that man through hell. Or my brain has, I should say. I have snapped and said some horrible, horrible shit to him.  I think about some of the things I've said to him and I want to crawl into a hole and die. Tyler has his issues, don't get me wrong.  He is far from perfect.  But he sure as hell doesn't deserve the things I've said to him. But he sticks around. Shockingly.”
“Because he knows that's not you saying the things you say. He knows it's what you've been through. And he loves you. Anyone can see that. It really burns Mark's ass you know,” Tanis chuckles. “Seeing the two of you together. The one the two of you look at one another.  He can not handle it.”
“That's because he's such a miserable fuck, he expects everyone else to be too.  Can you believe my own mother stayed friends with him? Knowing what he'd put me through? How messed up is that? She loves Mark but hates Tyler because he's the one took me away from my home and forced me stay in Australia and blah blah blah.  That is her sole reasoning for not liking him. Yet Mark is a total sleaze ball who gets off on hitting women and she loves him. “
“She sounds just as messed up as Mark.”
“You think? She's a real piece of work. And now Nik is hooked with him? Of all people that I thought would be smarter than that, it's her. She is far from being a stupid woman. Or a weak one.  Yet she chooses to be with him? Ughhh...” Esme shudders dramatically.  “...if that isn't enough to make me puke, I don't know what is. And believe me, I don't need any extra reasons to puke. Do you have kids?”
“No. But I haven't completely ruled them out. I'm in a good place with my life right now. I've met a pretty good guy. We're taking things slow, but...”
“Zak, right?”
“How'd you...?”
“It's all in the way he looks at you. The way he watches you when you talk. That little smile he has when you walk into the room. It must be a guy thing.  Maybe they're better at expressing it with their faces than they are with their words. Tyler gets so embarrassed if someone brings up 'the look'.  And he tries denying its mere existence, but it's there. Whether he wants to admit it or not. He doesn't like to talk about those things.  But let me just say this, he's not always a hard ass. He's got a soft side to him, and a huge heart. But whatever you do, do not tell him I told you that. He will deny, deny, deny and I'll never hear the end of it.”
“I know Mark's my boss and I should probably watch the things I say out of respect for him, but...”
“No. Speak your mind, girl.  You probably don't have anything to say about him that I haven't said a million times myself.”
“...you really traded up the second time around. Like you went from here...” she holds her hand just below her waist “....to here...” she raises her hand way above her head.  “...and I totally didn't mean that to represent the difference in size, but I guess it's appropriate.  You went from like grade F beef to like Triple grade A.”
“The difference is night and day. In every respect.  And that's what makes thing even more screwed up. Because your brain believed everything some asshole said, so you have no idea how to even let someone love you.  You're so used to being treated like garbage that when a decent guy comes along, you don't know how to deal with him.  You expect the worst, get the best ,and then you don't know what to do with it.”
“So you get scared and push it away,” Tanis concludes.
“Exactly. And believe me, I pushed long and hard for a while. And he refused to budge.  He just tried even harder.  And believe me, there were many times he could have told me to go fuck myself and taken off and he would have had every right to do it. But he never did.  He's a stubborn shit, let me tell you.  Which is probably why he didn't die that day on the bridge in Dhaka. Everything has be on Tyler's terms. It's your way or his way. There is no in between. He has to be in control. I guess he figured he hadn't lost all control yet so why give up?”
Tanis smiles. “Something tells me you had something to do with it to. I mean, you stuck around for a guy you barely knew.”
“Well the sex was amazing and I wasn't ready to let that go yet. I wasn't finished using him for his body yet.”
The other woman laughs at that.
“In all honesty,  I did what I dd because I wanted to. Because it felt like the right thing to do. He was in that mess because of me. Well Ovi, too. But if he hadn't have kept us around, he wouldn't have gotten out of there and not ended up as fucked up as he was. Sometimes I wonder if he regrets it. That he did decide to keep us around. If he wishes he'd listened to Nik and just left us in the street.  I mean, he wouldn't have all the issues that he has now if he had have ditched us.”
“I have a feeling that he never even considered the ditching you guys part.”
“He says he didn't. That it was never an option. But I couldn't really blame him if he thought about it at least once. It's all about survival right? Self preservation? Sometimes the only person you can worry and care about is yourself.”
“It must have been hard. The aftermath. Of Dhaka.”
“It was...” she fidgets with the straw in her drink,  pulling it up, pushing it back down,  trying to find the appropriate words to describe exactly what it had been like. Without completely losing her grip on her own emotions. She's normally a sensitive person to begin with, but now the hormones have decided to cause havoc within her body and even the smallest of dirty looks from someone have her ready to burst into tears.  Just that morning she'd had a meltdown because the mint of the hotel toothpaste was 'too strong'.
“...hard...” she says.  “It was hard. To see someone like that. All the tubes and all the wires and bandages and stitches and what not. He was a mess. He should not have survived that. Even the doctors told me when they took him to surgery when we first got there that they didn't think he'd even get off the table alive.  And he almost didn't. He coded three times. They said if there had been fourth, they wouldn't even have bothered to bring him back. That the lack of oxygen would have led to a catastrophic brain injury.”
It's painful to relive it. Even more painful than those moments on the bridge when she'd fought to keep him alive.  The agonizingly long wait in the OR family are; that bloody and torn tactical vest clutched tightly to her chest. The one that she'd nonsensically tried to scrub clean in one of the public bathrooms because he 'might need it again'. The doom and the gloom that had been in the surgeon's voice and in all the voices of the doctors and specialists that had come and gone through his room in the ICU.  Not one of them believed he would make it. The blood loss was too severe. The damage too great.  He'd never be the man he was before. Maybe not even a fraction of it. And the more they tried to prepare her to say goodbye, the tighter she held on.
“And I know that sounds weird because I'd just met him and there's no way I should have ever felt that strongly about him so soon...” she continues. “...but I can't explain it.  I can't explain what I felt. I just know I felt it. And I wasn't ready to let him go. We had too much to look forward to. Plans we made. We were legitimately going to work at things and see where we really stood in each others lives. If there was more to it than those five days in Dhaka. But we never got the chance. It didn't go the way we wanted it to.”
“But things worked out,” Tanis reasons.  “In the long run.  It might have been what you had planned, but they still worked out. Look how far you guys have come. From that day until now.”
“Yeah, he's still trying to solve everyone else's problems and getting hurt doing it.”
“I don't mean in that way. As in the job.  He made it out of that hospital. Even when all logic and even science said he shouldn't. He survived that and now look.  You're married, you've got amazing kids, one on the way...” she gives a smile, and pats Esme on the tummy. “...it's a great life. Even if doesn't seem that way sometimes.”
“Yeah. It is actually,” she agrees, and then smiles as she lays her own hand on her stomach. It will be a while before her body starts to visibly change. She'd been nearly twenty weeks before even the slightest bit of a bump began to show with Millie.  The twins had shown earlier, obviously. And Declan had just been enormous right from the start.  He was easily going to be over six feet tall by the time he hit his teen years, and probably built like a linebacker.
“Last one?” Tanis asked, nodding down at Esme's stomach.
“Oh hell yeah. This is it. I thought we were done at three. At least we agreed to stop at three. After the twins, we were done. That was it. Declan was a complete and total shock. We were actually using birth control and that kid still made his appearance. So if anything was meant to be, it's him.  And then we decided why not one more , and well,  it happened a lot sooner than we thought it would, but it happened.”
“I like to think things like this happen for a reason,” Tanis says. “Everything says that your Declan shouldn't be here. In the same way that doctors and science and all rational logic say hat Tyler shouldn't be here. But they both are.”
“When you put it that way, maybe I should play the lottery. With those kinds of odds running in my house,”  Esme muses.  “I know how lucky I am. That Tyler even survived. I saw how bad he was; the amount of blood he lost.  He honestly probably should have never made it off the bridge alive.   And sometimes I think it take it for granted that he did.  That I take him for granted.  I'm just so used to him being around that I sometimes forget how close it came to him not being around.”
“I think we're all guilty of that. Taking the people in our lives with granted.  Their presence for granted.”
“Makes me feel like a shitty human when I think about it. All the times where he's annoyed the shit out of me and wish he would go away and leave me alone. What if I wished those things and it happened? What if the last words I ever said to him were awful? If I actually let him walk out the door without telling him I love him. Imagine having to spend the rest of your life with that kind of guilt?”
“It's why we can't let a day go by without telling people how we feel about them,” Tanis says.  “We have to live each day with someone as if it's the last we'll ever spend with them”
****
She's startled to see him when she arrives back at the hotel; there are still two hours before his meeting with McMann and he hadn't planned on returning until after it was over.   So it's a nice surprise...and a huge relief...to see him there lounging in the middle of the middle. Leaning back against the headboard with those long legs stretched out in front of him, his hand clasped at the back of his neck, his eyes closed.   He doesn't respond to the sound of the door opening and closing; not a single muscle twitching throughout his body or in his face. Chest slowly rising and falling with each steady breath he takes. And she ditches her shopping bags and purse in the closet by the door and kicks off her shoes, bare feet against the soft carpet as she wanders further into the room.  The mattress dipping slightly as she climbs onto it,  shuffling on her knees towards him and then climbing into his lap, a knee on either side of him, arms around his torso and head resting on his shoulder.  She closes her own eyes; he's warm and soothing, his body hard and strong, his familiar scent still intoxicating after all these years.. And when she sighs against him he finally moves; turning his face towards hers and pressing a kiss to her forehead, both arms wrapping around her.
“Hi,” she says, voice muffled against the side of his neck.
'Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I'm staying in this room too,” he playfully reminds her.
“You weren't supposed to be back until later.”
“Well I came back early.”
“Why?”
“Because I missed you and wanted to see you.”
He can feel her smile against his throat.  “That's a very good reason,” she declares, a places a kiss to the scar that mars his neck; the one that will forever serve as a reminder to just how close he'd come to ceasing to exist.
“The best reason,” he says, his palm moving in slow, smooth circles in the middle of her back. “Did you eat something?”  He can't help himself; his protective nature is coming out in full force. It's bad enough when it's just her he's worrying about and trying to keep safe, but now there's a baby inside of her and he has twice as much to lose.
“A little bit. What your spawn will let me keep me down.”
“When we get home and we get you into a doctor you can go on that medicine you were on the last time. It helped, yeah? You didn't puke that much with Declan.”
“It was a life saver,” she confirms.  “You smell good.”
“You wouldn't have said that a half an hour ago, trust me.”
“Even on your worst days you don't smell that bad. I kind of like how you smell. Even on your stinky days.”
“You smell good too...” he turns his face towards her, nose against her temple.   “...strawberries?”
“Your favourite.”
“Yeah...” he grins.  “...they are.”
She relaxes against him; the curves of her body soft and supple against firm muscle.  She keeps her eyes closed; unable to look at that scar for too long. Normally it doesn't bother her; it serves as a daily reminder that he is still alive and she is lucky to have him.  But today it hurts; it cuts deep and vicious and she can't bear it.  
“Where were you when you called?” she asks. “Your cell reception sucked.”
“That's why I hung up and sent you a text message instead.”
“Where were you?”
“Just had a team meeting.  With Yaz, Mark, and his guys.  In an industrial park about ten minutes from town.  We didn't want to take the chance that the wrong people saw us all together.”
“Makes sense.”
“Did Mark call you?”
She hears the tension in his voice, feels the way his muscles tighten, how that vein in the side of his throat begins to pulsate. “No. Why? Should he have called?”
“I thought maybe he would. To rat on me.  We sort of got into a thing.”
“Yeah?” she runs her fingernails along his hair line at the nape of his neck. “Did you finally beat his ass?”
“Not as much as I would have liked to, no. I think I broke his nose though.”
“Well considering you could have broken his neck, a broken nose is pretty tame. What did you get into it about?”
“What do you think?”
“Awww baby....”  she pushes her hand through his hair; letting the longer strands on top slip between her fingers. “...were you defending my honour?  My knight in slightly tarnished armour.”
“I said some things I probably shouldn't have said. But I fucking snapped and it all just came out.  He's just so fucking ignorant and smug and everyone thinks he's this great guy. Which makes me hate him even more. So I lost it. Said some shit I shouldn't have said in front of other people. About you and him.”
“I'm sure whatever you said, he had it coming. So...”
“It wasn't my place to say those things. About you.  I should have just kept my fucking mouth shut. But he just pissed me so bad and...”
“Tyler...” she pulls back to look at him, holding his face in her hands. “...I don't care what you said. It's things that should have been said a long time ago, I'm sure. It's probably things he needed to hear. And if you just so happened to punch him in the face while saying those things...”
“It was an elbow, actually.”
“I'm not going to be upset at you for sticking up for me.  Everything I told you about him...about all the things he did...it was all true. So I don't mind those words being out in the open now.  Maybe now that someone has finally brought them up and holding him accountable for his shit, he'll straighten himself out. You know he's seeing Nik right?”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“It doesn't bother you?”
“I think she can do a hell of a lot better.”
“You don't think it's weird that my ex is doing whatever with your ex?”
“She is not my ex.”
“Well maybe not an ex girlfriend, but she's an ex something.”
“Putting it that way means I have a lot of exes out there.”
“You dirty boy,” she winks at him. “No wonder you know how to do things you do. You have lot of practice under your belt. All those different women in all those different cities. Do you have a score sheet somewhere?”
“It's not that many.  But hey, a man has needs, so...” he shrugs.
“I guess you don't like studying alone that much after all,” she teases, and he gives a scowl and then wraps one arm around waist, lifts her into his chest and then dumps her onto her back in the middle of the bed.  “Is this where you punish me?” she inquires, as he kneels between her thighs and leans over her, a hand on either side of her head, outstretched arms bearing his weight.  “Is there where I get in trouble for being a smart ass?”
Tyler shakes his head, then places a chaste kiss to her lips before sliding down the bed; fingertips gentle as he pulls up the bottom of her t-shirt, pushes down the waistband of her shorts and then presses his lips to her stomach. Where their baby...his baby...is safe and secure. And it's a moment that is so pure and so beautiful...a moment of vulnerability from such a big, strong, brave man...that it brings tears to her eyes.
“Baby...” she reaches down to push his hair out of his eyes.  “...are you okay?”
He nods.
“You don't seem...I don't know...you.”
“I'm fine,” he assures her, giving her that that half frown, half smile that reveals that he is in fact, not fine at all.  And his hands are on her hips as he rests his forehead against her stomach.
“Tyler...” she tugs at his hair, forcing him to look up at her.  “...what's going on? And don't say nothing. Because I can tell there's something happening inside that brain of yours.”
He attempts another smile. This one a little brighter and reassuring. “You know how I get. Right before shit's about to go down.”
“No. This isn't that.  You don't act like this. You're quiet and sullen and broody when you're going into a job. This is different. You're different.”
“I love you,” he says.  “So much. I need you to know that.”
“Tyler...” she frowns. “...what is going on?”
“Say it,” he pleads. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I love you too. You know I do. Tell me what's wrong. I can tell something is wrong.”
“I just wanted you to know that. That I love you. You know, just in case.”
“Don't talk like that.  Please. I don't want to hear you talk like that.”
“There's something I need to do. Something I can't tell you about. It's better that you don't know. I need you to trust me.  That what I'm going to do, I'm doing for you. And the baby.  For our kids.  I don't want you to ask me about it.  Because I can't tell you. It's for your own good. And for mine.”
“Tyler...what...?”
“Just trust me, okay? I need you to trust me. That this is the way things have to be done. I wouldn't do it unless it needed to be done.  Just know that it's for you and my kids.”
“You're scaring me. What's going on?”
“I can't tell you. I'm sorry. I want to tell you. But I can't. I'm so sorry, Esme.”
She see the tears that well in his eyes, hears the emotion that  causes his voice to crack.  “You're going to be okay, right? At least tell me you're going to be okay.”
“I'll be okay,” he promises, pressing one last kiss to her stomach before moving up the bed, once more kneeling between her thighs as he takes her face her hands and kisses her. Long and soft. Heart breakingly sweet.  “I'll be okay.”
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vulcan-highblood · 4 years
Text
(Blue) Spirited Away
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Pairing(s): Gen Chapter: 5/? Words: 3.5k
Summary:  Prince Zuko wasn’t able to escape the Northern Water Tribe after the disastrous conclusion to the Siege of the North. However, Aang is more than happy to invite his old pal, the Blue Spirit, to join him and his friends on the first leg of their journey to the Earth Kingdom.
(An AU where Aang never learned the true identity of the Blue Spirit, Zuko is desperate, and Spirits enjoy interfering in the lives of mortals)
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4
Read it on AO3
 Chapter 5: Persuasion and Evasion
So things were really not going Zuko’s way. A somewhat cynical part of him wondered how that was any different from the usual. He’d been careful, of course, creeping around the back of the Waterbending Master’s house, straining his ears to try and make sure whatever window he chose to peek in through wouldn’t also be a window into the room where the Avatar and his hangers-on were deep in conversation.
And it had been working, too! He’d found Uncle!! That hadn’t even been the weird part, the weird part was when Uncle recognized him in his Blue Spirit getup. All right, all right, he should have expected that Uncle probably figured out early on why his dao swords needed regular sharpening and he might have spotted Zuko sneaking off before music night and put two and two together, but it still felt a little embarrassing to have his alter ego just casually ignored as Uncle looked up, spotted his mask, and instantly charged across what looked like a bedroom to wrap Zuko in a bear hug. This proved largely unsuccessful, since the window was a bit too small to fit Zuko’s shoulders, and definitely wasn't built for Uncle’s girth. Still, he was glad for the fumbling arm-hug because it meant he’d finally found Uncle!
“Uncle,” Zuko hissed, “We need to go!” 
“Yes, we do,” Uncle agreed, “But this kind man has offered us a raft and enough supplies to get us to the Earth Kingdom port of Onsenzakura. We should wait here until nightfall.”
Zuko just stared blankly at Uncle for a long second, momentarily struck mute by the inane thing that Uncle Iroh just suggested. “The man you are staying with is a master waterbender!” he hissed, “He was coordinating the prisoners they took! He is not someone who’s going to just hand over an escape raft!” he added in a sharp whisper, fighting to keep his voice low and only mostly succeeding.
“Prince Zuko, we are of no value to these people, and I promised this man that I would leave peacefully. He recognized the wisdom in bidding farewell to the Dragon of the West, rather than trying to take me down.” 
That didn’t even make sense, Uncle was an incredibly valuable prisoner! “Who wouldn’t want you as a prisoner?” Zuko demanded.
Uncle gave Zuko one of his sad I have tried to tell you this before looks, before answering. “I am a failure, prince Zuko, and the Fire Lord - your father - does not tolerate failure. I am worthless as a political prisoner, and am an army officer, not Navy, and thus have little relevant information to share regarding fleet movements.” 
“But this was Zhao’s invasion!” Zuko protested. “Surely father wouldn’t blame you for this!”
“Were Admiral Zhao with us, I am sure he too would carry a portion of the blame,” Uncle answered simply. “But remember, Prince Zuko - after Ba Sing Se, this assault on the water tribes is my second failure. Ozai will not tolerate a third.” 
“You’re wrong!” Zuko insisted hotly, unwilling to hear such a thing. If two failures were enough to ruin Uncle’s worth in the eyes of his father, how would the Fire Lord feel about Zuko’s own repeated failure to capture the Avatar? He refused to think about it. Father wanted him back. Wanted Uncle back. They didn’t need to rely on some barbarian to give them an escape route, they could flee on their own! 
“Let’s just go now, Uncle!” Zuko urged, “I’m sure together we could-”
“Hey! You there!! Stop!” 
Zuko froze, turning to look at a duo of blue-fur wearing barbarians, brandishing spears. This was really not his day. 
“It’s the masked intruder!” the one shouted, which was probably obvious to the other two, but Zuko wasn’t going to waste valuable time criticising his choice to state the obvious. “Get him!”
“Master Pakku! The masked man!” the other yelled, and Zuko knew he had seconds to get clear before some real nasty bending went down. He ran straight for the trio, only to leap up, kick off of a window frame, and soar over the trio, heading back for the main street, mentally scolding himself for losing focus and allowing himself to be discovered. 
Skidding into the main street, he drew up at the spear pointed in his direction. Agni curse him, he hadn’t expected backup so soon! He turned to run the other way, but the two from the alley had made it out, approaching him from the other direction.
Sighing internally at the mess he’d found himself in, Zuko drew his swords.
And then the Avatar was standing in front of him, babbling about whatever and dragging him over to “meet his friends” (precisely what Zuko had been hoping to avoid) and also stare down the master waterbender who was hiding Uncle in his bedroom.  
After a few spirits-cursed minutes of frantically gesturing and resisting the urge to hit his head against something hard (or better yet, hit the Avatar’s head against something hard), they finally seemed to establish that Zuko was looking for Uncle. Hopefully this would convince the waterbending master to just let them go, now that he knew that Zuko knew Uncle Iroh’s whereabouts. 
But apparently he hadn’t thought this plan through, either, because the next thing the master waterbender said was, “Well, you’d better come inside, then.” 
Zuko didn’t have much of a choice after that, seeing as the Avatar immediately latched back onto his arm like he was afraid Zuko would run away again (not likely, unless the three city guards were willing to give him a head start). Sighing softly, Zuko resigned himself to following the Avatar’s entourage into the icy hut. 
It was warm inside , and with Zuko’s parka still being somewhat soggy, the heat felt amazing. Part of him wanted to curl up and go to sleep the minute they stepped inside, and he had to mentally shake himself because this was a bad time to be thinking about sleep. 
“Hey, Master Pakku!” the Avatar was saying in a voice that was far too cheerful, at least by Zuko’s estimation, “Do you have anything to write with?” he paused then, turning to Zuko with an exaggerated gasp. “You can write, can’t you?”
Zuko nodded. It didn’t seem fair to be insulted by such a question. After all, in some of the more far-flung villages of the Earth Kingdom, literacy wasn’t always considered as essential as putting food on the table, and scrolls could be incredibly difficult to come by. He felt a little insulted anyway, because, well, of course he could write! 
Master Pakku simply sighed gustily. “I hope you know that precious commodities like ink and paper are not to be wasted on light matters.”
“They aren’t?” Aang looked surprised by this. “Why not?”
“There’s not many trees that we can cut down, and making paper by hand is a long process,” Boomerang boy answered. 
“Well what do you use then?” Aang asked. “Slate and chalk?”
Master Pakku raised a skeptical eyebrow, gesturing expansively. “Oh yes, with all the varieties of stone we have around here, I’m sure sourcing something like that would be no trouble at all.”
“We use charcoal,” the water tribe brother explained, “and parchment.”
Ah yes, animal skins did seem to be quite the commodity around here, so that made sense to Zuko. Charcoal would serve dual purposes, too, and could be used as either fuel or writing tool. As the water tribes were known for an oral tradition rather than vast libraries, Zuko suspected that these writing tools were also fairly scarce, likely intended for trade with those outside the tribe and to learn the writing system outsiders used, rather than as a significant part of their education. Part of him was jealous, as he’d hated practicing his brushwork for hours on end when he’d been a kid. He’d never had a steady enough hand to impress his calligraphy teacher.
“Lucky for you,” Master Pakku shot a look of irritation in Zuko’s direction, “I happen to have some handy.” He started across the room, saw them all standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor and sighed. “Go ahead and have a seat,” he said, “I imagine this might take awhile.”
~~*~~
Masky seemed on edge, which was surprising to Aang. He still wasn’t sure why the guy had run away before, but hearing that he’d been looking for Zuko and his uncle made him curious. “So why are you looking for Zuko?” Aang asked, turning to fully look at Masky.
The pale-blue clad figure stiffened a little under his focused attention, like he wasn’t sure what to do with Aang’s stare. Finally, he shrugged. Which, to be fair, was about all he could do since the gesturing he’d done earlier hadn’t been clear enough to Aang, Sokka, or Katara. 
“How do you even know about those guys?” Sokka demanded, leaning forward, a suspicious look on his face. Aang was always impressed by how quickly Sokka picked up on inconsistencies, even if he did have a somewhat annoying habit of refusing to acknowledge the mystical when it confronted him. Then again, maybe that was more about expressing irritation, since Sokka did seem to always end up with trouble whenever they were dealing with spirits. That made Aang start thinking about Yue, which made him sad. Masky, however, was already gesturing again.
He lifted his hand up over his eye and wiggled it again. 
“Okay, Zuko,” Sokka acknowledged, since they’d apparently established this gesture already. 
Masky made a few punching motions, a sort of sweeping hand gesture, and then a few more sharp striking motions. For a minute, Aang worried that he was trying to attack Sokka, except he sure wasn’t trying very hard. 
“Punch?” Aang guessed. “You want to punch Zuko?”
Masky slapped an open palm to his forehead. He shook his head, made the ‘Zuko’ gesture again, then punched halfway with one hand, while his other hand moved beside it. When the first punch stopped halfway, the second hand kept going, splaying out the fingers. 
“Uh,” Aang frowned.
“Firebending!” Sokka shouted, pointing a finger.
“Where?” Katara demanded, moving like she was about to start waterbending in the middle of Pakku’s house. 
“No, that’s the gesture,” Sokka told her. “Right?” he asked Masky.
Masky nodded. 
“Zuko. Firebending.” Sokka ticked off the two words on his fingers.
Masky tapped the cheeks of his mask with open palms, then did the punch-palm thing again. 
“Cheek… bending?” Sokka guessed hesitantly.
Masky shook his head, puffed up and moved his shoulders like he was marching, then repeated the gesture, touching the sides of his face again. Then, he pointed at Aang. 
“Me?” Aang asked. “Walking?”
Maky slapped his palm to his face again. If he kept that up, it was probably going to leave a bruise. He shook his head sharply, then wrapped a hand around his wrist and repeated the gesture with the other wrist. He pointed to Aang again, imitated nocking an arrow and drawing it back, pointed to himself, then clapped his open palms to the sides of his face again. 
“Aang… bracelets, archer, mask, cheeks,” Sokka said thoughtfully. “Aang? Do you have bracelets?”
“No,” Aang answered, but Masky was already waving his hands to try and stop whatever they were saying, so apparently they were still on the wrong track.
He clapped his hands to his face twice.
“Cheeks.”
Masky shook his head.
“Face.”
Masky shook his head.
“Is it a thing?” Katara asked suddenly, “Or a person?”
Masky pointed at her and nodded. 
“A thing?” Sokka repeated.
Masky shook his head.
“A person,” Aang said.
Masky pointed and nodded.
“Ok, a person with cheeks…” Sokka muttered, rubbing his chin as he thought. 
Masky slapped an open palm to his face again. Zuko. Firebend. Cheeks. Firebend.
“Wait, were Cheeks and Zuko fighting?” Katara asked. 
Masky nodded hard.
“Is cheeks one of us?” Aang asked, sweeping his arm to indicate himself, Sokka, and Katara.
Masky turned to him in a way that seemed to say he was running out of patience, which was impressive, since his face was still covered. Very slowly, as if he was gesturing to someone who was having a difficult time understanding, he gestured Firebend again. 
“Oh, so cheeks is a firebender,” Aang said. “Zuko and another firebender were fighting…” he paused, thinking about that. “Why would Zuko fight another firebender?”
“He did chase down Zhao after the… uh… spirit oasis,” Katara said, stumbling over her words and glancing over at Sokka, a worried look on her face.
Masky had gone tense, pointing at Katara now, clapping his cheeks and then pointing again.
“Wait, is Cheeks Zhao?” Sokka asked, turning to Masky.
Masky nodded vigorously. He pointed to his own chest, made a “look” gesture. Zuko. Firebend. Zhao.
“You saw Zuko and Zhao fighting,” Sokka said. 
Masky looked like he was ready to hug Sokka for a minute, nodding enthusiastically. It was around this time that Master Pakku returned to the main room from his bedroom, looking almost more irritated than he had when he’d left. “Parchment. Charcoal,” he said, depositing the materials in Masky’s lap and moving to another seat near the fire. “So you saw Zuko and Zhao fight,” he said. “That doesn’t explain how you came here.”
Masky picked up the charcoal and parchment, scribbling in tiny characters at the very top of the sheet. It took Aang a moment to realize why - Master Pakku had said that the supplies were valuable and limited. Masky was trying to show respect by using as little space as possible. That was nice of him! He kept writing for a few moments, then set the charcoal aside gently, looking around the room.
Sokka snatched the parchment from his hands, and for a minute it looked like Masky was going to lunge after it, but he pulled himself back, took a deep breath, and waited for Sokka to read his response aloud. 
“I stowed away on a Fire Navy vessel -” Sokka stopped, turning to stare at Masky. “What, really? How’d you manage that?”
“Sokka, could you finish reading before you start asking more questions?” Katara demanded, craning her neck to try and see what Masky had written. 
Sokka immediately jerked the parchment away, concealing the words. “I’m getting there!” he said. “Just hold on - ahem - I stowed away on a Fire Navy vessel because I heard the attack was being led by Zhao. Hold on, wait, how did you hear that?” he turned to stare at Masky.
Masky shrugged, then made an “I’m listening” gesture with one hand. 
“Yeah, we’ll talk more about that later,” Sokka said, obviously dissatisfied with the answer.  “Anyway. I have no love for Zhao and want to ruin his plans - same, buddy,” here Sokka lifted his eyes to grin at Masky, “So I followed him here. That doesn’t explain why you want Zuko and his uncle,” he pointed out.
Masky made a grabby gesture at the parchment, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sokka handed it over. “And tell me more about how you found out about the mission and stowed away on a Fire Navy vessel.”
The scribbling took a bit longer this time, and Aang could see that Masky had written little numbers down before certain parts of the writing. The parchment was handed back to Sokka, who continued his dramatic reading. “One, I want to know why Zhao tried to have Zuko killed - wait, he did what?”  
Masky glanced between Sokka, Aang, and Katara, pointedly avoiding Master Pakku’s suspicious stare, which had yet to let up since the man had returned with the parchment. As he realized that the waterbending Master seemed more agitated than normal, Aang found himself hoping that everything was all right. He wasn’t sure why Master Pakku was so worried. Masky had helped him once before, and he’d come to help them this time, too! Master Pakku would see that for himself eventually, Aang was sure of it.
“Okay, we will definitely be circling back to attempted murder, but moving on - Two, Fire Nation Sailors like to spend shore leave in taverns. They drink a lot and talk too loudly. Three, Sometimes, drunk Fire Nation Sailors lose their uniforms. They don’t waste a lot of time looking for them, and rarely tell anyone what happened because they’d get in trouble. People don’t usually count the grunts on a large Fire Navy vessel. If you keep your armor on and head down, no one questions you. It can’t be that simple!” Sokka protested, looking up from the parchment. 
In response, Masky simply shrugged as if to say, “I’m here, aren’t I?” 
The amount of emoting he was capable of in a mask was actually really impressive, Aang wished he could communicate so well without his voice. “So why do you hate Zhao so much?” he asked. “Did he do something to you?”
For this, Masky just nodded, but he didn’t make a move to grab the parchment. 
“Do you not want to talk about it?” Katara asked softly, seeing something that Aang must have missed. 
Masky nodded again.
“Okay, well, I’d still like to know about this murder plot, especially considering Zuko was somehow not dead and managed to also find his way to the North Pole.” Sokka considered his own statement with a scowl. “How does he keep finding us, anyway?”
Masky shrugged a little, but reached for the parchment a moment later. Sokka handed it over.
~~*~~
Masky was hiding something. Well, okay, a lot of things, including his face. Which was… yeah. Not really something that made Sokka feel inclined to trust him. Plus, the guy acted like he’d been able to take out Fire Nation soldiers, steal their armor, stow away on a ship, and did it all just to come and mess up Zhao’s plans? Why? What could possibly motivate him to go to that extreme? Of course Sokka thought Zhao was a creep and he’d killed the moon, which put him on a whole new level of creep that Sokka hadn’t even realized existed, but still. This was weird.  “No seriously though,” he said, “You did all this just to mess with Zhao?”
“Sokka!” Katara hissed, “He doesn’t want to talk about it!”
“But there have to be easier ways to mess with Zhao,” Sokka protested, “Why come all the way to the North Pole?”
Masky, who had been scribbling away at his paper, stopped, sighed, and started a new line beneath where he’d been writing. One he’d finished the second line, he went back to the first line. Once he’d finished writing, he handed the parchment back to Sokka.
Which was another thing. The way he wrote looked like someone who wasn’t accustomed to handling charcoal. Which, if he was from the Earth Kingdom, that made some sense, since they largely used brushwork. But his strokes were incredibly neat and even, almost calligraphic. That smacked of nobility to Sokka, and he couldn’t figure out why some noble from the Earth Kingdom would be chasing after Zhao, of all people! As he glanced at the parchment, though, a few answers fell into place.
“I heard he hired pirates to blow up Zuko’s ship.” Sokka stared at the words for a few seconds. “Wow, that sounds like overkill,” he managed after a moment. “How did Zuko survive something like that?”  
Masky shrugged in answer, which was fair. Sokka couldn’t figure out how someone could survive that either. But he apparently had survived, and made it all the way to the North Pole, too. So he’d either gotten really lucky, or he’d somehow figured out Zhao’s plot in advance and faked his death. Considering Zuko’s record, Sokka was going to go with lucky, because the guy managed to stumble across them constantly. That had to be luck. As much as he hated to wish death on someone, he sort of wished that Zuko hadn’t made it out of the explosion unscathed. Maybe if he’d been off recovering somewhere…
…but Zuko hadn’t been the one to kill the moon, and he’d gone after Zhao while his uncle had gone after all the other fire benders. They hadn’t seemed like they were fighting with Zhao, at least. Which made sense, if Zhao really had been trying to assassinate the angry ponytail guy.
“Is that all?” Katara asked, leaning over to look at the parchment, reminding Sokka that he’d lost track of what he was supposed to be doing.
“I’m getting to it!” Sokka glanced back down at the parchment. Oh. He swallowed hard, then read the second sentence. “Zhao… destroyed my home. And… separated me from the only family I had left.” He looked up at Masky, then read the last line he’d written. “That’s why I broke into his stronghold to free the Avatar, and it’s why I followed him here. I wanted revenge.”
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elisaphoenix13 · 5 years
Note
Fic Idea- Like in IM3, Tony calls a suit in his sleep and Stephen comforts him? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The Love Between Us
Stephen blinks tiredly at the sudden jolt in the bed next to him and he looks over his shoulder to find Tony flinching in his sleep. Another nightmare. The man could probably write a book with the variety of nightmares he had. Whether it was the now rare nightmare of the wormhole during the Chitauri invasion (rare because he was used to traveling by portal because of Stephen and on occasion Wong; he didn't trust any other sorcerer's), Sokovia, Siberia (those dreams were uncommon as well since he made amends with Steve and Bucky), or anything his subconscious could come up with involving Peter and/or Stephen. Those were always the worst. They scared him to a point that he would often wake in a panic attack and even after he calmed down, he would drag Peter out of bed and into the master bedroom.
Those nights were even worse if Stephen wasn't home. The panic would last longer, and more often than not, FRIDAY had to wake up Peter anyway so the teen could help his father claw his way back to reality.
"Tony." Stephen rasps as he carefully reaches out. "Love, wake up."
He would later blame his sleep muddled mind for the terrible decision he made of grabbing Tony's shoulder. The engineer's reaction was instantaneous. He grabs Stephen's hand in a death grip, nearly crushing it, and in turn making it incredibly painful, and the sorcerer had to fight through the pain to conjure a shield with his free hand just as one of Tony's suits crash into the room. It fires a repulsor at Stephen that he successfully deflects with the shield and then attempts to shake his husband into awareness.
"Victor! Override FRIDAY and power down the suit!" The doctor wrenches his hand out of Tony's grip as the suit powers down and he gently grabs the billionaires face. "Tony...Tony look at me! You're okay."
The two struggle for a few more minutes until Tony finally becomes more aware of his surroundings and releases a shuddering breath. Stephen didn't dare move as he let the elder man take in the room through less frantic eyes and get his breathing under control. It took about five minutes for Tony to get back to some semblance of normal, and when he did, the first thing he noticed was one of Stephen's hands shaking uncontrollably.
The one he had unintentionally crushed in one of his own.
"Oh shit." Tony exhales sharply as he grabs the injured hand as gently as possible. "I hurt you didn't I?"
"I don't care about that right now. Are you okay?" Stephen asks softly. He didn't withdraw his hand though. Tony would massage the pain away to make up for the damage he caused, but the sorcerer let him because it would distract him from the panic.
"Yeah. Fine. I'm--" Tony glances behind the sorcerer in his lap and blanches at the sight of one of his suits standing by the door. "Fuck! I did it again--"
"Tony." The sorcerer interrupts quietly, getting the man to focus back on him. "Calm down. I had Victor take care of it."
There was worry in dark brown eyes, but Stephen just slid his free hand down to Tony's neck to bring him into a hug. The engineer carefully drops the doctor's other hand to wrap his own arms around Stephen's waist, and rests his forehead on his bare clavicle. It was the only comfortable position for Tony since Stephen was still straddling his legs but it was still pleasant. Stephen knew that his husband was worried he would leave to sleep somewhere else, but the doctor wasn't Pepper. Unlike him, she had no way to protect herself from a suit like Stephen did, so it was understandable the moment left her shaken. She was also lucky that Tony had woken up and realized what was happening before the suit attacked and managed to shut it down.
Stephen was not so fortunate, but he had magic and Victor. This was not the first time this incident with a nightmare and a suit had happened, and it was one of the reasons Tony integrated Stephen's AI into the entire tower. He also gave Victor authorization to override FRIDAY in case of an emergency. Karen had the same authorization, but it was only if both Tony and Stephen were incapacitated or something. Peter was aware of the fact but thankfully hasn't needed to use it. Yet.
"Better?" Stephen asks as he drops his head to press his forehead against Tony's.
"Better." The man confirms as he gives the younger a gentle kiss. "I'm sorry."
"Everything is fine. You took care of my hand and the suit didn't hurt me." Stephen moves away. "Do you need Peter?"
"...no."
"Okay...do you think you can go back to sleep?"
Tony laughs half-heartedly. "Not a chance."
Stephen nods and grabs Tony's watch off the nightstand to look at the time. Five in the morning. He wouldn't try to trick Tony into sleep then. So, after returning the kiss, he moves off of his husband's lap and climbs out of bed to make his way out of the room.
"I'll go start some coffee for you. At least this early we can enjoy the calm before the storm."
Tony frowns, not having moved an inch. "Babe, you don't need to do that. Go back to sleep."
"Do you want coffee or not?"
"Skip the water. Just give me the beans." Tony says as he finally slides out of bed and points at his dark suit. "You have to go back to bed. Think long and hard about what you did."
The suit lights up and makes its way back down to the lab and Tony smiles when his words earn a snort of amusement from Stephen.
"Did you just ground your suit?"
"It attacked you."
"No it didn't." Stephen lies.
"Don't lie to me Stephanie." Tony walks over to the sorcerer and fingers the charred fabric on the shoulder of Stephen's shirt. "At least it was just your shirt. That can be replaced."
Stephen sighs and heads out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to start the coffee, and Tony follows silently, except instead of joining him in the kitchen, he goes into the living room and sits on the couch. The next few minutes pass quietly, with only the low sound of the tv to fill the void, and Stephen makes himself some tea as he waits for the coffee to finish brewing. There was no doubt in his mind that Tony felt awful about sending the suit after Stephen, but he was at least handling it a bit better than before. He was probably glad that he had the mind to give Stephen control of the tower through Victor so he could stop the suit on command this time.
Last time, the doctor actually got hit because it was the first time and Stephen hadn't been expecting it. He had to yell at Tony to wake him up so the engineer could stop the suit. Stephen was able to heal himself without any problem but Tony felt guilty and wouldn't go to bed for three days with the fear it might happen again. At least in those three days, he came up with the idea of letting Victor and Karen override FRIDAY. She was still the main AI for the tower though.
"Straight black or do you want your pound of sugar?" Stephen teases.
"I want it as dark as my soul." Tony returns, making Stephen chuckle as he pours the coffee into the mug.
"I better put some milk in it then."
"Are you insinuating I'm nice? I don't do nice. I'm a sarcastic asshole that--"
"That adopted a fifteen year old boy from Queens when his last remaining relative died so he wouldn't go into the system. That made me a suit to give me extra physical protection. That forgave a brainwashed man that killed your parents and the man that hurt you to protect him." Stephen joins Tony on the couch with two steaming mugs. "That always takes the spot on the bed closest to the door whenever we go on vacation so anyone stupid enough to come after me and Peter has to get through you first--"
"There are other things I'd rather have you stroke than my ego." Tony interrupts this time as he takes his coffee. No milk in it despite the sorcerer's joke much to his pleasure. "You make it hard to hate myself."
Stephen props his feet on the coffee table and then leans against Tony's side, prompting the engineer to throw an arm around his shoulders as he sets his own feet on the table. "Isn't that why you married me?"
"Actually I married you because you stepped into a parent role for Peter when you didn't have to. You protect our world from magical threats instead of using your magic to heal your hands and go back to being a neurosurgeon. You glare the team into behaving before the drive me crazy. You make sure Peter and I get fed and sleep on a regular basis...you really are a MILF--"
Stephen rolls his eyes. "Alright. I get it."
Tony grabs the back of Stephen's head and pulls him into a passionate kiss. Coffee and tea intermingling briefly before the engineer pulls back away.
"I married you because I love you, cuore mio." 
Stephen turns bright red, the blush reaching the tops of his ears, and quickly throws a free hand over Tony's mouth. "Don't get me started. It's too early for that." 
Tony chuckles after the hand is moved away. "I'm serious Stephen."
He knew. Stephen got annoyed when the engineer always used nicknames for the sorcerer, but over time he realized Tony only ever really used his name when he was serious. He had gotten so used to the nicknames, that when his husband actually used his given name, Stephen stopped and listened. Like now. It just made Tony's words that much more intense. It held the feelings the elder had difficulty showing at times.
"I know." Stephen mutters finally after some tv filled silence. "I love you too."
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thethreemages · 4 years
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Neeeew batch of boys coming in to join my Three Mages cast~! Took me a bit to finally get them all down but I’m glad I pushed myself to complete their looks and bios! :D Hope you all enjoy! 
More info about their characters can be found below~
-Antoyn is Fevrier Ballastine's robotic butler companion, and joins his young master in acting as a protective bodyguard back in St. Ravilda's. Created and commissioned around the same time as Fevrier's accident by the boy's parents to give their son some better protection, Antoyn started off as just your average subservient android with a variety of talents to both entertain and nurture the then-younger Fevrier. But then... a few years down the line there was an incident where Fevrier's mother accidentally released a soul of a deceased Bard from one of her jarred collections (a common practice of hers as a Necromancy mage)... and the soul ended up embeding itself deep within Antoyn's body. While Fevrier's parents at first wanted to get rid of this soul from the robot... little Fevrier remained insistent on letting his best friend keep it since he saw how much it made Antoyn "happy" to get a moving, working body again. So, after some consideration they decided to respect their son's wish and modify Antoyn even moreso to let him feel at least somewhat more "human". And now, several upgrades later Antoyn is more than just a dedicated butler... but also a wise, collected, and pretty snarky mentor figure to the now brattier Fevrier. When he's not spending his days at his master's side trying to make sure he doesn't get into trouble... he also likes to practice a variety of other hobbies like fencing, puzzle-solving, sprucing up on his lute-playing again, studying up on all the recent historic events that he missed in his deceased years, and occasionally trying to smooth-talk some of the "charming" single-mothers he comes across here and there... to his master's embarrassment. -Zephyr Platyna is among one of the newer students of St. Ravilda's, joining in the same year as Zia, Noira, Frevier and Mila. Being a universe traveler, he often comes between both Clock Diamond; his actual home, and Graystone (the main setting of "Three Mages"). His gothic-like appearance may give him the impression like he's a villainous rebel type, but in actuality he wants to change that perspective for the better ("Heroes can be Goth too" being his main motto whenever the subject's brought up to him). He's one of the rare specialty mages to hone more than one element, being both metal and ice (creating some pretty "wicked" magic displays whenever he's asked to give demonstrations during class). Though some teachers wondered if this could be too much to handle since it's not very common for them to get dual-magical mages like that (let alone who dressed so "scarily", in Professor Barnaby's words)... Headmaster Auran (who was usually accepting of all students) and Professor Devonna (being a fellow goth mage herself) urged the others to give Zephyr a chance once they saw how much the boy wanted to use his powers for good. During school hours, Fevrier has formed a bit of a rivalry with Zephyr... both in the field of mastering metal magic (and Mila's eye of affection), which seems to be more to Zephyr's favor as the elven boy is not only more "courteous" of his magic, but also more genuinely considerate of Mila's timid tendencies since the two of them met on his first day at school. Sensing how lonely she was from most others, he offered to be her friend and steadily they've seem to lean more to "deeper" levels for how protective and caring he is towards her. Even Zia and Noira seem to want to nudge Mila into asking out the boy... but combined with Mila's shyness + the Zephyr & Fevrier rivalry, it's bound to not be an easy task as the school year goes on. -Kalybir Shelrovet (also known as "Kaz") is a former student of St. Ravilda's who was once the main leader of the "A-Lister" group there. The sole heir to a mana stone mining/jewelry-making company called "Shelrovet Dreams", Kaz grew up to carry a big ego and a haughty attitude towards most of his peers... even Prince Kain and Prince Elas weren't really safe from his showboating since every student at Ravilda's was treated equally regardless of their backgrounds. Things got especially tense with Kaz and Kain in particular since the latter was also pretty full of himself too... leading to them establishing themselves as "sworn enemies" for quite a few years (in one instance, a big magic fight between them lead to Kaz losing one of his teeth, now replaced as a shiny gold one). Towards other students, Kaz didn't change much of his attitude around them either... any number of "friends" that he did have seemed to most likely only hang out with him for his money. The only one that stood out from this was Ana White... an equally haughty popular girl who often had an off-again/on-again relationship with Kaz up until things went quiet between them post-graduation. There might still be some signs of some "lingering flames" between them though... given how Ana tends to get so blushy and surprisingly docile/flustered upon hearing his name. In terms of magic, Kaz controls the power of a "Poison Mage"... giving him abilities of producing acidic liquid blasts to melt through obstacles, stinging his foes back with illness/burns, and/or trapping them in place via-melting the ground to quick sand-like levels. -Hoagen Blanchard (likes to be called "Zeppelin" as a stage name) is the son of St. Ravilda's teacher Ms. Blanchard, younger brother of Beau (who's part of the King's Elite squadron) and a current member of Argent's underground metal band. Though for many years he was known for being a dorky, kinda clumsy nerd... following around the time of his father's passing, he felt more inclined towards the gothic subgenre (specifically for himself, as a "steampunk" goth) to start hanging out more with the likes of Argent. Granted, he's still generally pretty dorky but nowadays he likes to play himself more "confidently" when it comes to the stage... trying to nudge for Argent to be more sociable now and then (though it doesn't always work) as well as being pretty friendly and open to their current fan following. On his off-time, Hoagen likes to partake in hobbies such as comic collecting, sprucing up on some his favorite action movies, trying his best to hide his not-so-secret "crush" on a certain traveling singer while failing each time she gets brought up, and also just generally sprucing up more and more of his goth look to be "cooler". As he used to go to St. Ravilda's, Hoagen's main magical skill involves controlling the power of a "Storm Mage"... being able to create thunderous lightning clouds to engulf his foes as he wishes. Though for Hoagen, this type of magic is generally kind of dangerous to get a hold of... so he tends to just limit it to some cool "stormy" effects for the bands' stage performances.
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vaulthunter426 · 5 years
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Borderlands 3 | What we know...
Just because I’m not sure the best way to present this information, prepare for a long list of new features in Borderlands 3 with my comments because.... well this is my blog. I will not be discussing the two Vault Hunters we’ve seen gameplay of in terms of their action skills and skill trees.
Quality of Life improvements!
Borderlands has aged quite well, BL2 more than BL1 but we can go back to games almost a decade (and actually a decade) old and they still feel great and are tons of fun. After taking about a year hiatus from all Borderlands games, I came back after the Mask of Mayhem trailer and I found myself trying to roll or slide out of the way of charging enemies and merely crouched in front of them. After so long of this, I knew what I wanted out of Borderlands 3...
Sliding, Grappling, Ground Slams - A feature that I was hoping for beyond almost anything else were movement upgrades and boy we got them. The sliding adds a whole new dynamic to fighting a mob of enemies and the grappling opens up a plethora of verticality options. Be sure to be looking up high for hidden chests! The ground slams seem to be an upgraded, more visually appealing version of the ground slams from TPS. Zane cocks back an arm with a Digi-claw before slamming his fist to the ground while Amara leaps into the air slamming both fists to the ground (not to be confused with her Action Skill).
Vending Machines - Instead of manually purchasing each ammo type by spamming our select key on them, we can now purchase the max amount of ammo by pressing a key as we approach the machine, without ever entering the UI.
“Claim Lost Loot” - A new “vending machine” in Sanctuary III collects all the loot we didn’t pick up and store them until we access the machine. Once we activate it, all the loot comes spilling out onto the ground in front of us for us to check out and make sure we didn’t miss anything. No more lost Legendaries!
Sanctuary III is the first hub in the Borderlands franchise that features a unique room for our Vault Hunters! Our room will be tailored to the Vault Hunter of our choice with possible customization options. The wall holds a number of “mounts” where we can showcase our favorite guns as well as a couple spots for a relic, shield, and grenade mod.
Loot Instancing and Level Scaling - Is your buddy ten levels ahead of you? No problem! If you join the game of a friend who is a higher or lower level than you, your damage output will scale accordingly so no one is over or underleveled! Along with this will be loot drops. If you open a chest to a blue and purple rarity pistol, they will be at your level and ready to loot. Your friend will also see a blue and purple rarity pistol, but different manufactures and at their own level. You both can take both pistols from the same chest. All of these options have a toggle feature if you preferred the previous games style.
Claptrap as a General of the Crimson Raiders - It’s nice to know that the Crimson Raiders are continuing on after the death of Roland, but their priorities may be a bit askew if Claptrap is a general... then again maybe his title holds no responsibilities... all about the ego boost.
Lilith as Commander of the Crimson Raiders - Not all that surprising although I was speculating that maybe she had ditched our friends to deal with some of that pent up anger post-Jack. It seems like she has been broadcasting across the galaxy searching for new Vault Hunters, and maybe even “broadcasting” directly into Siren’s minds as a comment by Amara upon meeting Lilith went something like “Oh so you’re the voice in my head.” Sounds like our Guardian Angel...
Marcus - I have no doubt Marcus will be buying and selling us guns, but we do see that in person he will be our go to for SDU’s. This go around the currency used is money opposed to Eridium, similar to our BL1 days.
Moxxi - She still has her bar, this time with four different slot machines, possibly activated by a unique currency each, or rewarding different pools of loot.
Tannis - “Tannis’ Lab + Infirmary” read the sign pointing us toward our old friend, which leaves a noticeable lack of Dr. Zed on Sanctuary III. Was he a fatality of the ill fate that befell Sanctuary 2? Or is he on Pandora?
Ellie - Ellie takes position as our lead engineer / car provider for Borderlands 3, as we no longer have our dear friend Scooter with us (nice decal of him on the outside of the ship though).
Unlockable Vehicles - It looks like we will unlock vehicles as we progress through the story, similar to the Bandit Technical in BL2, but there seems to be World Event / Side Missions that allow us to come across unique vehicles parked across the maps that we can get in and return to a Catch-A-Ride station so that they are available to use any time we like! This means if your vehicle blows up before you can get it registered, you may be out of luck!
Alternate Firing Mode- Initially inthough a couple of gun manufacturers would have alternate firing modes but it almost seemed like every gun during the gameplay reveal had an alternate firing mode.
Hyperion Shields- I’ve been wondering how the shields would work for the Hyperion weapon and it looks like they are ADS activated.
Unique Dialog for our Vault Hunters - A feature introduced during some of the DLC for BL2, as well as through the entirety of TPS was character dialog unique to each Vault Hunter. It is most definitely returning for BL3 and I couldn’t be happier.
Unique Looting for our Vault Hunters? - When Amara opened a chest (really a repurposed car trunk) she punched it open in a similar fashion to Kratos in God of War. Although punching a chest open definitely seems like Amara’s style, I wouldn’t say the same for the other Vault Hunters which makes me wonder if certain chests will have unique opening animations for each VH.
Location: Ascension Bluff - This was the location title card that was on the projection screen after got the initial reveal demo which makes me wonder if the Children of the Vault Propaganda center(?) is on a map called Ascension Bluff. I could be wrong in thinking that, however I’m pretty positive that all of that was on Pandora.
Location: Meridian Metroplex - Some interesting reveals about the city we’ve seen from the trailers! The Meridian Metroplex is on Promethea, and has become an Atlas controlled city. For some this is great, for others not so much. Maliwan seems to be attacking the city with their new ally...
Locations: So far we have Pandora and Promethea listed as worlds we can visit but I believe it was Paul Sage also confirmed an Asteroid(?) map that will feature low-gravity similar to (but not quite the same as) TPS.
Tyreen + Troy Calypso / The Calypso Twins- These two are fucking Borderlands equivalent douche twitch streamers. They’ve leveraged this position (or vice - versa?) into being Cult Leaders for the Children of the Vault.
They have broadcast stations scattered around the galaxy that we can destroy / turn off as a world event style challenge.
Tyreen is a Siren who can leech the life and power out of other living beings. Being a Siren, she’s convinced her followers that she is their God - Queen. Troy is merely piggy-backing off the fact that she has all the influence, or it seems that way to me.
Tyreen has streamed her ability of sucking the life out of beings to her many followers, and to the Vault Hunters who she calls her most loyal follower yet.
What’s a cult without its followers? Instead of our typical “Bandit” enemies, it seems like the main enemy faction of that caliber has been rebranded to Fanatics.
Tyreen has struck a deal with the Head of Mergers and Acquisitions for Maliwan, a guy named Katagawa (some dweeb who hates / envies / is jealous of Rhys, but also makes sense why he wants control of Atlas) and so mobs of both the Maliwan Assault Troopers and the Fanatics will be fighting you at the same time.
Randy Pitchford has let on that Tyreen is using the bandits, and probably her Maliwan allies, as a tool to find the Vaults so that she can gain the power of the Vault Monsters.
Zer0 has left the Crimson Raiders and is working with / for Rhys under the Atlas corporation, at least while the money and weapons are good.
Crimson Lance became the Crimson Raiders after Atlas fell and they joined Roland’s cause in Sanctuary. Now that Atlas is being ran by CEO Rhys, they are called Atlas Soldiers.
New Element : Radiation - Irradiated enemies will take damage and are also more susceptible to other damage types. An irradiated enemy can spread the effect to other enemies surrounding them. Upon death, an irradiated enemy will reach critical mass and explode.
Barrels - Elemental variety barrels can now be melee’d to launch at enemies before shooting them and causing them to explode.
Pipelines -Certain pipelines can be shot to cause radiation spills, or oil slicks that can then be ignited to cause an AOE of damage.
Enemies / Mini Bosses - There will be more mini bosses in Borderlands 3, and the weapons they use against you can be dropped so that you can use that gun on future enemies.
NPC - Certain NPC’s will assist you on missions, like Lorelei and Zer0, and then can also be downed. You can revive NPC’s and they can also revive you.
Paul Sage (Gearbox Developer?) - Paul made the comment about the low-grav environments as well as stating that if you “beeline through the story” it will take around 30 hours. Upon questioning if the guns in the reveal were better than what we will find (because of the basically non-existant recoil) he stated that in the past they’ve worked there way up to really good guns in terms of level progression, but this time they wanted to know if they could “start good, and make it fucking awesome.” So yeah. Guns are gonna be fucking awesome.
And that wraps it up! A nice guide to catch you up on things you’ve missed or to remind you of some things you’ve forgotten. I make no claim to have covered everything we’ve seen, but these were some things that I took note of. Feel free to add your own bits and pieces I missed in the replies! Borderlands 3 looks amazing, happy hunting.
- VaultHunter426
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kpopgerapitico · 4 years
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Song of the Week
The weather cannot decide if it is summer or not. But I got to wear jeans, which was a nice change, so I’m not complaining. Anyways, music!
Honorable Mentions:
I so rarely have female balladeers that I like the tone of, so I was glad to hear an exception this week. Koyo’s Maybe benefits from her lower register sounding so incredible, while she still keeps power in the higher notes. It is a little simple, but everything fits so well together that I don’t mind simple, especially since it is scratching a nostalgia itch for me for some reason (I think it might be Avril Lavigne, but super ballady Avril Lavigne).
If dreamy vibes are your thing, Seyoung’s ego might be a good fit for you. The instrumentation is interesting, as are some of the chord choices. And the chorus building the dreaminess with echo-y synths throughout. The vocals have some cool patterns, but don’t otherwise push any boundaries. I think it is a solid attempt, and a bit of a sleeper ear worm in the best way. 
I have emotions towards Car, the garden that have literally nothing to do with his talent (he beat out one of my favorite indie artists, O.When, in a competition show, which annoyed me because I want more people to love O.When’s ballads, but is also completely unfair, because there were a lot of people in the competition). This week he has comeback with 31, which has a really cool video and is not a style I like at all. But, I bet it will be very popular domestically, and it almost feels like a 60s ballad (my brain went to the Beatles, regardless of how accurate that is). And the video y’all, the video is super cute.
For a 90s hit, if the weird collab from last week didn’t do it for you, Koyote is having a summer comeback, complete with bad fashion choices and a very low budget video. And also the reminder that Jongmin was a singer before he was your resident idiot on a bunch of variety shows. The Sea is a summer blast from the past, and is at least very fun.
It is fairly rare for me to have no knowledge of a group, but that is the case with The Man Blk, who apparently debuted in 2018. They are from a smaller company, which may explain it. Time Turner, their new release, feels a bit in the same vein as tracks like Spring Day. It doesn’t have the same drive behind it, but still has the sweet longing that is so prevalent in the style. I’ll keep an eye out to see if they settle into the style, or change it up.
Dreaming is so much more upbeat that Kyuhyun’s normal stuff, and it still firmly a ballad. I love his voice, and probably always will, but is it too much to ask for a Rise as One from him. He could pull it off! Until then, I will be waiting.
The beat on Hyo’s Dessert goes hard throughout. I don’t particularly like the Loopy verse, but Hyoyeon and Soyeon both do some great work. This is not a style I’m drawn to or even particularly like, but I can appreciate talent when it is on display.
If you like Jonghyun’s solo stuff, specifically the ballad side of it, you should check out the End of a Day orchestra version. I love that it is a change in tone after last week’s Red Flavor, and that it seems to treat it’s source material with such respect. Also, a clarinet/oboe as the main voice especially early is so nice, since they don’t always get to be that. It feels more like a tribute than last weeks attempt did, and rightly so.
Y’all, there is some shenanigans out this week. Obviously it is trot, but that changes nothing. Fresh is feels like it might be mildly offensive, but like there are also godly seals so I’m too busy being confused to really understand.
N.Flying put out a second track off of their album with Starlight, which based on the video alone seems to be mildly heart wrenching. Like is the husband having a Benjamin Button moment? Is she saying goodbye to his memory because they knew each other that long? Does she die too? Do we just loose a bunch of balloons? The world may never know. (If you like N.Flying normally, you will like this too, as it fits their style to a T.
I want to mention Choi Ye Geun’s Unbalance for doing unexpected things. I like the mashup of styles, and her vocals are a great center ground that connects all of the parts. It is worth a listen if you are interested in how disparate parts can fit together, or just something different than the more pop side of Korean music.
No winner this week, maybe soon.
P.S. The early 3rd gen idols are pulling a hold my drink moment next week that seems to be targeted at me specifically, because Doojoon’s got a bad boy look, and Soyou looks like she could kill me and I would thank her for it. I’m fully prepared for them to fuck me up. 
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torannosaurusrexy · 5 years
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No Mercy
Chapter 1: A String Of Losses
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➝ Genre: Smut
➝ Pairing: Park Jimin | Reader
{Switch!Jimin} {Switch!Reader} {Boyfriend Jimin} {Teasing} {Masturbation} {Masturbation—Female} {Jimin Being A Lil’ Shit} {Competing Couple} {Short Fic Series} 
➝ Word Count: 4728 | Ch. 1/2
{Read on AO3} ➝ {Here}
➝ Summary: Some couples play Monopoly, others play Chess. However, Jimin and you are not those couples. You prefer to play games with much higher stakes, and the stakes this time? Well, they’re higher than ever before. The rules are simple: The first to cave loses and the winner tops. Simple as that.
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“Check mate.” Namjoon smiles, moving his bishop deftly into a position of no return, making you drop your jaw and nearly flip the table in frustration when you realize you lost yet another long winded chess match against the master™. Aside from Namjoon’s near genius IQ, you have to admit that he’s rather cunning and charismatic atop that reliable brain of his. He uses his way with words and means of complimenting you platonically as a means of strategic annihilation. 
You fall back against the chair, huffing in subsequent diffidence that leaves Namjoon reeling. There’s no doubt that Namjoon’s gotten a kick out of your persistent thirst for victory. He wears a blithesome smile thats stretched so far from ear to ear that you worry his face is—or soon will be—permanently stuck that way. “No fair!” You jump out of your seat, pointing at the chess board like it somehow cheated you and now you were left with nothing but a string of losses and a shattered ego. 
Namjoon laughs, throwing his head back before allowing it to rise again as he runs a delicate hand through his silvery locks. “What do you mean no fair? I won.” He points at the marble chess board, eyeing the abundance of pieces he took from you while he still had quite an assortment of soldiers at his beck and call…it seems Chess just isn’t your cup of tea. “The game was practically mine the second you moved your rook out of the main defense line.” He talks lambently with his hands, going on to describe what you could’ve done to avoid such a situation…and another loss. You’ve lost interest though, especially as you spot Hoseok and Jungkook deep in a game of foosball. 
Now there’s a game you can go varsity in. 
“That’s all great Joon, why don’t you teach Taehyung or Yoongi while I go regroup by kicking Kook’s ass at foosball?” He halts his stale monologue about the finery of chess to stare up at you with a puzzled look on his face. He turns to rest his eyes upon the two boys who have their tongues poking at the flesh of their cheeks while they try to decode the contingency of their foretold game. 
Nodding, Namjoon turns back to you, smiling reluctantly. “Fine.” He relinquishes, allowing you the freedom you requested and returning his attention to the chessboard, examining the pieces and placing them back on the appropriate square as you begin to skip away towards the active match inside the large wooden table that shakes every so often due to the animosity in which the two young men play. 
Jungkook scores past Hoseok and takes the game, an exponential lead that—despite his best efforts—Hoseok never would have won. “Think I can have a go?” You ask, standing beside Jungkook who’s still mid victory dance. On a piece of paper, Jin jots down the score silently. 
“Finally! A rookie.” Hoseok grins, assuming you’ve never played foosball and thinks he finally has the advantage over an opponent. 
“Funny, but I’ll have you know I was trained in the most advanced foosball arts.” You lie, trying to get Hoseok to cower into one of the stools beside Jin who’s now staring between the group while he waits to keep track of the next match. 
“Foosball Arts? That’s not a thing.” Jungkook spins one of the metal bars within the table around quickly, rattling the little plastic players within that you can’t help but feel bad for. 
You look away from the spinning bar and instead place your hands on your hips, taking a step towards Jungkook and cocking an eyebrow. “And how would you know?” 
“I made Yoongi look it up once. I wanted to take a class…alas, it did not exist.” He shrugs, making everyone within the vicinity break down in laughter at his sarcastic stupidity. 
Upon recovering, you step to one side of the table, holding two of the handles and taking a competitive stance. “Despite that, wanna play?” Jungkook and the others slowly let the laughter die down before positions are taken and Jin stands to drop the ball into the board. 
“I thought you’d never ask.” He smirks and shifts his eyes quickly from you to the wooden table decorated pristinely like a field. 
The ball is dropped and both opposing sides snap into play. 
At the same time as ball meets wood, Yoongi traipses through the threshold to the lounge; Taehyung and Jimin following close behind, but they’re too caught up in conversation to notice the game taking place upon entering. Namjoon smiles when Yoongi joins him at the chess table; frankly you aren’t sure how long that will last—nevertheless, he seems overjoyed to see his close friend. 
Across the room, Taehyung flamboyantly throws his hands into each word he utters; a laugh of amusement flowing from Jimin upon hearing the end of Taehyung’s unruly story. A yelp of disfavour leaps without notice from your throat as Jungkook scores, and Jimin jumps at the sound of your voice. “That’s three to three. Seems you guys are tied.” Jin announces, making yet another tally mark on the small notepad he has with a flick of his pen.
The game soon resumes and you still remain oblivious to Jimin’s entry with the others. However, he’s anything but oblivious to your presence. Embracing a taciturn air, Jimin abandons Taehyung who doesn’t seem the least bit bothered; portrayed by his blithesome smile upon approaching Yoongi and Namjoon. You spin one of the rows of players hard enough for the ball to fly past Jungkooks defenses and directly into the goal. “Yes!” You bellow, throwing your hands up in the air. Jimin takes advantage and loops his arms around your waist. 
“Nice shot, but I’ve seen better.” He teases, juddering your hips back and forth in his palms gently. 
You spin to wrap your arms around his neck, “Its nice to see you too.” His lips steal yours in a suitably soft smooch that leaves you blushing.
“Ughhhh, gross!” Hoseok groans jokingly, pretending to hurl into Jin’s lap. “Get a room will ya?!” The small group chuckles together before you finally slip from Jimin’s airy grasp. He lingers, admiring your derrière from afar. 
“One more point and I win maknae.” 
Jungkook snorts, “Yeah we’ll see about that; and it's Golden Maknae to you.” 
“Don’t flatter yourself Kook.” Namjoon says from across the room, remaining absolute and focused on his game with Yoongi but somehow still finding time to shrink the Maknae’s ego. 
More laughter; the most heavenly of sounds thrown from each of these boys as if they’re happy to be rid of it. It provides such rapture that you’re not sure you could ever live without the sound. 
Jin drops the ball back onto the chipped playing field, and off the two of you go; spinning the plastic players with all your might. Your hands ache and sting with how tight you squeeze the paddles. You want this win. You need this win. Being competitive runs through your blood faster than that of the oxygen it carries. Currently, you have control of the ball. Getting past Jungkook wont be easy. He’s fast and has the reflexes of a cobra…scoring won’t be any walk in the park. Passing the ball to another row of your players, you slip past your adversary’s last line of defense. But, it’s too late. Jungkook spins his paddle of players and the ball goes flying all the way back, making a home directly in your goal box. “NO! Goddammit!” Hoseok and Jin burst out laughing, Jungkook celebrates with a dance. 
Wiping away a jest induced tear, Jin finally announces the score. “Four to four hot stuff. Seems the maknae might win after-all.” 
“I wouldn’t bet on it.” You growl, keen on winning and rubbing it in Jungkooks smug face.
“I will.” Jimin shrugs, smiling. You and the others divert your stares to your boyfriend who seems for dying today. “I’ll bet that Jungkook wins. If he does…then I get something in return. Fair?” 
“Uh oh, they’re doing it again.” Jungkook whispers towards his two elders who have been onlookers this entire time. 
The three of them turn pale, bets between the two of you have ended in a variety of ways. Multiple involving some of the ensemble getting injured by flying shoes and handbags. Jungkook—poor boy—is the unlucky chap caught in the crossfires this time around…and the pale hue to his usually bright melanin skin tells anyone who dare to look over that something is about to go horribly wrong; or that Jungkook is about to be revisited by his lunch. 
You turn to face Jimin, pulling him by the shirt towards you. “And if I win?” 
He grins, his fairy like blue hair making him appear innocent when he’s anything but. “We’ll decide later. Just do me a favor and lose.”  
“Over my dead body.” 
“That can be arranged.” 
You raise a fist to hit your lover when Jungkook calls out: “Growing old here! I don’t care what the two of you get if you win or I do; but I for one would like to actually find out who owns the bragging rights.” Jin and Hoseok try their damndest to conceal smiles, but fail nonetheless. 
You return to the table, trying with all your might not to let the nervousness you feel sift its way onto your face. Jungkook radiates cocky energy the second you look up to meet his steadfast eyes. “Last point; next scorer takes the game!” Jin announces, sounding exactly like a sports announcer should. “On my count.” He looks to both players. “Ready? Set? Go!” 
With his last dropped word the ball follows and the game resumes, drawing the attention of all occupants of the room. Taehyung has gravitated towards the table, even Namjoon and Yoongi have turned their bodies and heads to watch the making of a foosball champion. Which hopefully, is you. 
Your tongue rests at the corner of your mouth as you watch with sharp eyes: the ball move back and forth between the two teams’ players. “Get out of my way dammit!” You shout, raising a chuckle from your opponent and friends. 
“That kinda defeats the purpose gorgeous.” Jungkook utters, smiling. 
Jungkook has the ball, moving up the field and closer to your goal box. At last second you're able to maneuver the ball from him, moving it back towards his goal. Your attempts are short-lived however; as your opponent uses his quick thinking and rapid reflexes to steal the ball back and move it down towards your side. Sweat trickles down the back of your neck, you’re not sure if you could take another second of the stress. If you time it right, you could hit the ball past Jungkooks defense and into his goal. So, you spin the paddle.
Your heart rings in your ears and you squeeze your eyes shut. You hear the ball land in a goal box. You smile and open your eyes, ready to celebrate. Jungkook cheers, jumps up and down and moves away to do a front flip. “Victory is sweet!” He screams. 
You’re at a loss for words. Your jaw falls slack and a chorus of ‘Ooo’s’ and low grunts erupt through the crowd. “Nice pull through Kook. I was sure you’d lose.” 
Taehyung goes and gives Jungkook a high five, providing you with a solemn look of peace. Then, the cool presence of Jimin comes up behind you. He whispers, “Now…for the next competition.” 
The evening draws to a close when the others depart to find time for themselves. Namjoon and Yoongi first, most likely heading back to their studio’s or rooms back in the dorms to produce or catch up on some much needed beauty sleep. Jin, Hoseok, and Taehyung leave not too long afterward. They said something about going out to eat. Jungkook’s head turned at that but he was looking to Jimin and you to see if you’d be joining them. “We’ll catch up Kook. Tell the other’s we’ll meet you all there.” Jimin’s smile was warmer than a crackling fireplace, and there’s no way Jungkook could say no. He pivots, and follows the others out the door with a smile. 
Jimin waits until he no longer hears footsteps to turn to you and steal your lips for his own. You push him off thanks to his lingering words still swirling through your mind. “So about this competition…” You start, “Care to tell me more?” 
Your lover grins from ear to ear. “So you got a hold of that did you?” 
You nod. “I did. And i’d like to know what you meant by it.”
He sighs, moving his hands down to your hips and holding you there. “I was thinking...we play a game with higher stakes than that of a foosball game.” 
Your curiosity has officially peaked. Park Jimin has these dark eyes that can scoop you up completely with just one glance. Your full attention is on those eyes, and what they’ll do next. “What does the winner get?” 
“Topping rights.” He whispers the words with a gentle smirk plastered to his face. It's clear that this has been an idea of his for quite some time. Like a sleeping panther, he waited for his time to strike. 
You waver, fluttering your eyelashes and glancing about the room. “For how long?” 
Jimin licks his lips, “A week.”
“Hm, Surprising.” You’ve grown cocky, and feel a raging fire of confidence surge through you.
“What is?” Your lover questions, confused by your comment.
“It’s surprising that you’d be willing to give up topping rights for a whole week.”
He starts to laugh, to think you actually believe you’ll beat him. Jimin’s had this game of his planned out for months; and he knows your weaknesses. “I admire your confidence. But I’ll win this one Kitten, you can bet on that.” 
You move forward and kiss him, mumbling a “We’ll see about that.” Between your parting lips. 
Dinner at the restaurant with Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jin was business as usual. The appetite the boys had was big; and the bill was twice that size. Upon arrival of certain meal parts and between meat being cooked, Jimin had conjured a deep and insightful conversation with Taehyung about Korean traditions and origins, a topic Jin soon took over. “Hungry?” Your lover whispers, his hand resting on your thigh. 
“Very; my stomach might eat itself if I don’t get something inside me soon.” 
A silence ensues between you two, but Jimin’s eyes gleam with the promise of an innuendo don’t leave you. He starts to chuckle and you soon register the words that escaped you. “I can put something inside—” 
You dig your nails into his hand that you’ve been holding. 
Jimin flinches, wincing in pain before reaching for your wrist with his free hand. He squeezes until you let up and whisper, “Nice try.” 
Jimin smiles and looks up to Hoseok, “Hyung, we have a hangry lady over here…mind saving me from a mauling?” He asks, teasing you gently with the use of the word hangry. Doing so all while all while desperately trying to evert his train of thought from attempting to seduce you. 
Hoseok proceeds to cut open different chunks of meat, checking each one for imperfections and rawness. “These few are done.” He announces, pointing to a select couple of chunks that make your mouth water.
Both Taehyung and Jin stop their conversing at the announcement of fully cooked meat. “Ladies first.” Hoseok hastily lets the words slip past his lips, gulping back a mouth of saliva. 
Your own lips part to answer him as you hold out your plate. It’s then that Jimin’s hand moves towards an area of you that is usually reserved for touching within the confines of your bedroom. “ThANK you Hobi.” Jimin’s hand brushes over your panties, up and down tracing slow needy movements that causes your tone to fluctuate.  
Hoseok doesn’t seem to take your tone fluctuation as anything out of the ordinary. If anything, he thinks you’re playing. “You’RE WELcome!” He jokes, copying your tone. 
You quickly take back your plate, dropping it onto the table and allowing it to land safely with a clack. Jimin resumes a conversation with Jungkook to cover his own ass. His hand and fingers remain doing the job they set out to do: torture you and win this little competition as fast as possible. 
Jin laughs loudly, slapping Hoseok on the back. The mixture of sounds breaks you away from and out of the haze Jimin’s fingers put—more like forces—you into. Underneath the table, your hand pushed Jimins away even though the feeling of ecstasy he feeds you leaves you in a state of ravenous hunger unrelated to the cooling meat on the plate ahead of you. If he thinks he’s going to win topping rights so easily…then he’s wrong. It’s the first night, and you plan to last much longer than that.
Jimin withdrawals, as the rules state. If he were to press on, he’d lose. And if you were to accept his come on…you would have to accept defeat.
Dammit. This competition is proving to be quite the futile feat. Hopefully…you’re strong enough to make it through without allowing a finger to slip into you. 
Two. Weeks.
Two damn weeks! 
Two weeks of nothing more than casual kisses and hand holds. It has been fourteen days since Jimin and you decided that this competition would be fun. And it has been sixteen days since you two last slept together.
Raw, passionate, heart rattling sex. 
You have never missed it so much before. Its one thing to not have a vessel that can bring you both pleasure and love, but it’s a whole other to be tied to one and neither of you can do jack about it all thanks to a petty agreement. 
“Is masturbating cheating?” You blurt mid movie viewing on the couch with Jimin who’s munching on popcorn and obviously absorbed into the plot line of the film.
“What?” He chokes, coughing up a kernel that he catches before it can pass his lips. 
“Because touching myself sounds so good right now. Like, Chicago deep dish pizza good.” 
Jimin chuckles, taking another handful of popcorn and shoving it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before commenting. “Seems like someones tapping out.”
You raise your eyebrows and shift uncomfortably away from him, “I never said I was tapping out!” You swallow and clear your throat, “I merely asked if masturbating was cheating!”
Jimin hums, thinking calmly. “Hm…no. No it’s not.” 
You cross your arms, “You’re only saying that because you’ve jizzed four times this week already.” 
Jimins arm escapes from behind you, the movie that before had his attention absorbed, now completely labeled as nothing more than white noise. “What? No I—”
“Chim, I’m not blind. I know you don’t have a cold and the crumpled up tissues in the bathroom garbage were definitely not there when I left for groceries around noon.” 
“Oh please, you’re telling me you haven’t touched yourself once for two weeks?” 
“Three.” You correct, growing antsy. 
Jimin gulps as he stares at you, looking serious but soon his soft features melt to show a laugh.
“What’s so damn funny?!” You yell, sitting up straighter. 
“I can’t believe you didn’t think of the loophole sooner!” 
You pick up a pillow and wack him with it, he moves the popcorn out of the way; sacrificing his face in lieu of the buttery bowl. “Asshole.” 
“Don’t bite the hand that feeds Kitten. Just say the word.” He wears a smug grin that whispers devilish intent, he wants to cave just as much as you do; but he knows he can’t. Winning is his ultimate goal. 
“In your dreams.” 
“How’d you know?” 
“Ha. Ha. Hilarious.” 
Jimin looks away, picking his popcorn back up and continuing to eat. “Fine then, thats your call. Suffer alone.”
“I won’t suffer.” You stand, turning towards your boyfriend before leaving the room, “I don’t need you to cum. Enjoy the movie Jimin.” You call, catching your boyfriend mid mouthful as he turns to watch you go.
“What? Where are you going?! Rachel is about to stand up to Eleanor at the wedding! I’m betting—and hoping—that she slaps that woman! Do you think she actually farts channel N.5?” He mumbles the last part to himself, but eventually pauses the film to chase after you, wherever you ran off to. 
Jimin moves swiftly down the hall with a couple last pieces of popcorn in his hand. He couldn’t possibly enjoy the movie without you. Besides, you were keeping him warm and now he’s caught a chill thanks to your absence. “Babe, I’ll get fat if you let me eat all this popcorn alone. Please come watch with me. I’m sorry I laughed.” He giggles to himself again, remembering the question you asked. “I just figured that you of all people would have taken full advantage of that loop hole. I’m surprised, and impressed!” He compliments.
Your shared bedroom door is ajar, and Jimin approaches it with caution; recalling several pranks involving flour, airhorns, and slime that have taken place in this very threshold. His mouth falls agape when he begins to form your name, the letters averse as they never fully reach maturity. From within the bedroom Jimin can hear stuttering pants and moans, ones so mystifying and familiar. They could only be coming from you. 
Those sweet purrs you let out acting as music to Jimins ears. 
Clearly, his answer to your question imbued in you enough courage to put date night on pause and pleasure yourself in the next room. Your behavior was insufferable, but oh so resolute. The intricacy of your movements had Jimins own hand palming his length through his jeans. The rules to this competition state that touching each other is forbidden and therefore no possibility. But, no where does it state that voyeurism is unwelcome.
Within the room, on the edge of the bed your lips incrementally part; the space between them unceremoniously filled with your tongue that pokes at the opening. Jimins hand squeezes tighter around his length with each pump over his length. The very sight of you so exposed and lust driven is indisputably the most beautiful you’ve ever appeared. Coveted, Jimin moans quietly as your finger is joined by another, your free hand working on other erogenous zones to provide a more fluid pleasure. Jimin dubiously sidles closer to the opening in the door, seeking fortuitous noises from you to further fuel his movements. “Jimin…right there.” You coo, imagining that it was your lover who was moving within you in lieu of your two digits. 
Thats all Jimin needed.
As painful as it is to complete, Jimin zips his jeans. He tucks his length against his stomach, held in place by his belt. Assuming position, he allows his foot to push the door open gently. However, the push is strong enough to reveal him standing in the doorway. “Right where baby?”
“Come to torture yourself?” You grin, curling your fingers deep inside you. Their motion is slow but rough. The very feeling has your eyes rolling back in your head. 
“Of course not. I find great joy in watching you fall apart under your own hands. The very sight will hold me over for another week. Maybe two, if I use my time wisely. So thanks Kitten.” Jimin winks, and reaches for the door. “Have fun.” He coos before walking out and closing it over.
“Fuck you Park Jimin!” You yell, realizing just now that despite the view, you may have actually helped your boyfriend win.
Attempt One: Failure.
“How in the holy mother of hell are you guys still alive?”
“Hobi, people don’t just drop like flies when they haven’t gotten laid for a little while.” Jimin laughs, sipping from a water bottle between choreography sessions. 
“A month Jimin! I’d be worried for my health!” The elder boy fakes a shiver, laughing when he catches wind of the laughable air the situation withholds. 
Jungkook gets up from stretching on the floor, he too is drenched in a thin sheen of sweat. “I thought you were kidding! She’s right there all the time man, how have you been keeping it down?!”
Jimin smacks his lips; “Kook, let me show you something.” He takes Jungkook by the shoulder, throwing his arm over it to control where he walks. He saunters him over to a mirror. “You see this?” He says, pointing at Jungkooks reflection.
“Yes? It’s me.”
Jimin nods, “Correct. I too see a virgin who has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.”
Jungkook throws Jimin’s arm off of him, blushing profusely and shooting the two older and now laughing boys a burning look of hatred. “I’m not a virgin!” 
“Surrrrrrre; whatever you say Golden Virgin.” Hoseok jibes, sipping from a water bottle with a drenched towel around his neck.
“The Virgin Mary Maknae!” Jimin turns, pointing at Hoseok when he comes up with the second nickname. 
The two hyungs hold hands and begin to chant half-assed nicknames that leave Jungkook stained red. 
After practice, the room had been evacuated; only Jimin left surrounded by mirrors. And of course…his cell phone. He knows you’re probably home right now. Shoulder deep in a month old package of questionable Oreos. Whats wrong with sending one picture? One little picture. Jimin knows that if you reciprocate…he wins. 
Positioning himself in front of one of the many floor length mirrors, Jimin opens his camera and holds up his shirt with his mouth. His joggers hang low enough to reveal his deep v-line and when he flexes each individual abdominal muscle becomes enhanced. “Chew on this baby.” He slurs to you, smirking into the cloth in his mouth. His finger hovers over the send button after the picture is taken. It’s with that same cocky grin that he clicks send. 
You hear the ding from your phone on the coffee table. Jimin was right. You’ve already made a tyrannosaurus like dent in this package of Oreos, and there’s no chance of you stopping in sight. You continue to munch cuddled up on the couch with a fuzzy blanket, picking up your phone with innocence in your doe eyes. His name appears all happy on your screen, so you unlock the device without hesitation.
19:34 Jiminie 🥰💖 | Hi Kitten, just finished practice! Hobi worked Kook and I to the bone today. Look how sweaty he got me!
It’s with slim ambivalent behavior that you click on the photo Jimin has sent. You gulp at the sight. The view is downright blasphemous. The most nefarious part to it being that you just know he meant to send it. Time and time again has Jimin seen the way you look as him after a good workout and just how it affects you. Nothing has changed now. It physically hurts you not to tell him to rush home. Or that you’d love to come and see what he’s practiced today…not that you’d be seeing anything other than his shimmering body moving against yours. 
You need to answer him. He probably knows your gawking—more like drooling into your Oreos—at him. Through gritted teeth, you set out to extinguish his inner incubus by typing up something…normal.
19:37 | Thats great baby! So glad you had a great time! You’re probably famished after all that exercise. What do you want for dinner?
Jimin chuckles to himself upon reading your response. He can imagine what you look like based off of previous knowledge. You’re most likely blushing and biting your lip. It’s all too easy.
Jimin swallows, typing a response thats sure to be incendiary.
19:40 Jiminie 🥰💖|You.
He quickly answers. You hold your phone tightly, blushing and biting your lip in the exact fashion that Jimin imagined. 
19:40 | I think we’re fresh out :( Will pasta suffice?
Jimin sighs. He’s picked a worthy opponent. One that won’t go down without a fight. 
19:44 Jiminie 🥰💖| I guess :/
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kamino-ink · 6 years
Text
Masterlist | Kamino-Ink
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LEGEND |
✿ - angst
❀ - fluff
✾ - suggestive
I will no longer be including smut in my work! Suggestive themes simply refer to an innuendo that might lead to more in a story, or mentions of sexual themes.
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Fantasy!au - in which you explore the lives of all the boys in a new world full of magic, royal debacles, and of course; love [completed!] ✿ ❀ ✾ 
Chan, Woojin, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin
Disney!au - in which the boys are the children of classic Disney villains and heroes [will be updated whenever, no set schedule] ✿ ❀ ✾ 
Preview, Minho
Soulmate!au - in which everyone has a strange connection to the person they are destined to be with [will be updated at least twice per week] ✿ ❀ ✾ 
Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin
Hogwarts!au - in which the boys experience life at Hogwarts [not a series yet, just headcanons]
Headcanons
BNHA!au - in which the boys are implemented into the My Hero Academia universe; quirks and all
Headcanons
Wither [Kim Woojin series] - What’s left of the two Koreas is now the pit of entertainment for the rest of the world, built upon corpses, natural disasters, and lost wars - the scattered districts now fight to survive each day. When your name is plucked from the hundreds of thousands in the country, you are left no choice but to comply to your fate - either kill and win, or die trying.
01
October Prompts - I will be following a prompt list for the spooky season, redirect to a mini-masterlist for a list of each work so far. ✿ ❀ ✾ 
Spooky Masterlist
Individual Pieces - a collection of writing that does not belong to an entire series
Meteor Garden [Lee Felix] - You’re the side-character in someone else’s fairytale, and for the most part, you’re okay with it, except you’re constantly seeing the nice guy lose. Sometimes you wished you were the main character of your own story, just so you could make him happy. ✿ ❀ 
Detective Dumbass [Bang Chan] - Detective Bang refused to accept any help from the rest of the squad, insisting that he worked better alone - but what happens when he realizes that he does need his team with him? [loosely inspired by B99] ✿ ❀ ✾ 
Stray Kids as Benders [ATLA] - a bullet-point headcanon about the boys as benders from the Avatar universe.
Bubbles [Han Jisung] - You were one of the many children sent back in time to help change the future - your reality. Along the way, you reminisce on old memories with a childhood friend that calls you quite the endearing name; bubbles. ✿ ❀
Behind The Mask [Lee Felix] ~ spiderman!au - You’ve started to notice how your friend has begun to show up to class absolutely exhausted, always falling asleep - he claims it’s just his schoolwork and his internship, but what you don’t know is that his so-called “internship” is actually his duty to serve the people of Queens as Spiderman. ✿ ❀
Nude [Lee Minho] - Art is your passion, so it’s no surprise that you happen to take quite a few fine art classes during your years at university; however you most certainly were not expecting to draw a nude model so early in the year, nor were you expecting the model to be Lee Minho in the flesh. ✿ ❀ ✾ 
Trust [Bang Chan] - you are a regular ole’ demonologist, just living your best life attending the occasional possession or exorcism - until a novice exorcist with a giant ego accidently gets you into harm’s way. ✿ ❀
Smoke [Hwang Hyunjin] - you’re an infamous school druggie, always coming to school with bloodshot eyes, purple bags, and cracked, bloodied lips. rumors are nothing new to you, and in all honesty you don’t fight them - you don’t want to waste time on meaningless drama, after all. everything starts to change, in a way, when a quiet, easily amused boy comes to your school - and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. ✿ ❀
Burn [Seo Changbin] - your little brother, full of pure innocence and blooming life, was kidnapped by a cult on a remote island - your deadbeat dad doesn’t care to pay the ransom, leaving you to even make sure jeongin is still alive so you can rescue him. the cult is strange, but what’s even stranger is one of the oldest members of it - a mysterious man by the name of seo changbin. ✿ ❀ ✾
Romeo [Lee Felix] - ever since the boy you called your best friend left on the day of his sixteenth birthday with no goodbye or warning, you’ve been determined to grow past the pain he left with you; but of course, not everything works out that way - especially when two years later you end up in South Korea as an up and coming variety show host. ✿ ❀
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 Disney!au - a headcanon post about who the boys would be the offspring of in the beloved Disney universe.
 Headcanons
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Hogwarts!au - in which you can immersive yourself back into the world of Harry Potter; only this time, the boys of EXO are the characters you’ll be reading about [on hiatus] ✿ ❀ ✾ 
Baekhyun
Finifugal [Park Chanyeol Series] - After an ambush that leaves your left shoulder in stitches, your head bodyguard decides to scour the country in search for a new recruit to help up your safety - when Park Chanyeol shows up and his first request is to dye his hair, you can’t help but wonder who in the world Junmyeon just so happened to recruit. [ongoing - on hiatus] ✿ ❀ ✾ 
01 | 02
Individual Pieces - a collection of writing that does not belong to an entire series
Trouvaille [Do Kyungsoo] - You end up having a one night stand with some random guy at a party, with him leaving you to wake up all alone the next morning. Unfortunately (or perhaps, fortunately) for you, it seems as if fate is truly out for your heart. [requested] ✿ ❀ ✾ {smut scene included}
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Disney!au - a simple bullet-point list of NCT 2018 as the sons of treasured Disney characters 
 NCT 2018
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