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bibiwrld · 7 months

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SIMILAR!| MIGUEL O’HARA

★ Miguel O’Hara x Black fem anti-hero! [OC]

★ Before reading: I don’t speak Spanish, sorry for any mistakes made.

—Synopsis: A new face suddenly arrives at Nueva York, working at Alchemax, catching Miguel O’Hara’s eye and helping the Spider Society with catching villains and anomalies..well sort of.

previous: –five.

–six.

THIRD PERSON POV

“Did I say throw a punch like an old hag with fucking arthritis?” Miguel snarled, weaving Miles’ punches. “Punch me!”

“I-I am!” Miles’ shouted back with an unsure look on his face, throwing another punch that Miguel easily blocked.

Miles had to be ready for today, he’s their best option for taking down White Phantom.

“Do it better!” Miguel threw a right hook.

Miles quickly dodged it by doing a backflip.

Miguel sighed, placing both hands on his hips. “Miles, we have to catch this guy today.”

Miles panted, slowly walking up to Miguel. “And we will.”

Lyla appeared in front of Miles. “ I think you did a good job, Miles.”

He smiled softly at the AI. “Thanks, Lyla.”

“I’m trusting you.” He sighed once more, looking at the young spider. “You can rest for now.”

He nodded, watching Miguel walk out.

Now at his office, Miguel sat at his desk listening to Pavitr, who was on the mission with Gwen and Hobie to bring Doctor Octavius back to Nueva York.

“She put up a fight, but she should be in Nueva York right now.” Pavitr spoke, swinging through a city.

Miguel looked at the large holographic screen of Pavitr, that was linked from his watch. He leaned back in his seat, satisfied with the younger spiders work. “Good job. Get back to Nueva York asap and locate her, then report back to me once White Phantom is insight.”

Pavitr did a mini salute before his screen disappeared. “Alrighty, boss!”

“Wren texted you.” Lyla appeared with a grin.

“Oh, did she?” Miguel forced an uninterested look on his face, but deep inside he was bouncing off the walls.

“Stop acting like you don’t care, you like her, we both know you do.” Lyla could see through his bullshit.

Miguel kept his eyes on the multiple holographic screen before him, clenching his jaw at her words. “What if I do? There’s no harm in that.”

Lyla squealed, jumping around Miguel. “Text her back now!”

“I’m not texting her back because you told me to.” He hesitantly picked up his phone, staring at her text.

Wren

Are you free tonight?

He thought of all of the possible things he could possibly be doing tonight. He had to take down White Phantom, but that’s at an earlier time, then he had a mission with Web Slinger, he could always reschedule that, and he had to file mission reports, and that could be left for another night.

So yes, he was free.

I am. You need me?

Wren

Badly, at my place at 9?

He bit his bottom lip and threw his head back at her text.

“Oh my God, look at you!” Lyla laughed, her eyes wide at the way Miguel was acting, it was very rare.

“Shut up.” He sat back up, typing back to Wrenley.

I’ll be be there

Lyla watched him send the final text. “Oh you’ll be there alright.”

“It’s just sex, Lyla.” He murmured, running fingers through his hair.

She crossed her arms. “We all know, it’s more than just sex to you.”

His eyelids lowered, sinking down in his seat. She was right, it was more than sex. Maybe he started developing feelings through every interaction they had, even non sexual ones.

His watch beeped, making him alert and pulling him from his deep thoughts. It was a quick message from Pavitr.

“White Phantom.”

He stood up, his mask immediately going on. “Lyla, notify Jess that White Phantom is here.”

“On it.”

🕷️

“Get out of my way—AAGGGHHH!” Doctor Octavius glitched during an attempt to grab White Phantom with one of her robotic arms.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Octopus?” White Phantom taunted, floating in front of her. “Are you malfunctioning?”

“Now, Hobie and Gwen!” Jessica shouted to her watch.

“Got it!” Gwen swung down to Octavius, webbing her up once she stopped glitching.

“What the— you again?!” Doctor Octavius struggled in the webs.

“Hobie now!” Gwen called out, holding Doc Oc with multiple webs.

Suddenly Hobie appeared on the side of a building, pressing buttons on his watch, making a portal appear.

White Phantom floated and only watched in amusement.

Gwen jumped off the building, using all her strength to swing Doc Oc around and finally releasing her into the portal.

“I’ll be bac—” The portal closed.

“Such amazing teamwork.” White Phantom clapped.

Miguel, Jessica, Pavitr and Miles, joined Hobie and Gwen on the large street.

“Mind Crusher!” Miles shouted from below.

They all looked at him in utter disbelief.

“I really thought that one would’ve stuck with you guys.” Miles sulked.

White Phantom laughed with their distorted voice. “Oh how cute, you came up with a name for me.”

“It’s actually White Phantom.” Pavitr told them.

Hobie nudged him and shook his head. “C’mon mate.”

Pavitr quickly apologized, forgetting that they were talking to the enemy.

Miguel signaled for the spiders to move into their positions and White Phantom couldn’t but help but notice.

Chuckling, they revealed their white gloved hands. “If you think you little spiders can take me down, you’re nothing but delusional.”

“Hey!” Gwen shouted in offense.

“I don’t want to hurt any of you.” White Phantom began.

Miles turned invisible, crawling on a building that was closer to White Phantom. Now that they were distracted, Miles could go through with the plan.

“It was never my plan to hurt any of you. I know how it feels to be scared, how it feels to lose someone you love.”

Their words touched almost all the spiders.

“I just wanted to help.”

“Well we don’t kill people.” Jessica narrowed her eyes.

“I’m not included in that ‘we’ they speak of.” Hobie added.

“Hobie.” Everyone gave him a look.

“I mean now I am apart of that ‘we’, because of rules and whatever, but I follow rules because I want to.” He rambled with his hands.

“In order for to get rid of the problem, you have to kill it.”

Miles stretched his hand out as far as he could to touch White Phantom and shock them. White Phantom’s head suddenly snapped in Miles’ direction, scaring him to the point where he almost became visible.

“I can see you little spider.” White Phantom chuckled and head butted Miles with their hard metal helmet.

The only thought that went through Miles’ head was ‘How?!’

The impact of the helmet made Miles become visible and unconscious as he fell from the building.

“Miles!” Gwen swung down quickly and caught him by his hand, then retreated to a building for him to recuperate.

Taking off his mask, she stared at the bruise in the middle of his forehead. “Miles..Miles you okay?”

Miles could barely look straight but he still managed to answer. “Y-yeah..totally.”

“Coño.” Miguel cursed under his breath, seeing that the plan didn’t work.

“After I poured my heart out, this is how you treat me?!” White Phantom shouted. “After I helped you all?! Ungrateful spiders!”

“Now they’re upset.” Jessica rubbed her stomach while straddling her bike. “Plan B?” She looked to Miguel.

“Plan B.” Miguel sighed.

The other spiders instantly knew if Plan A didn’t work: make Miles shock White Phantom until they go unconscious, then they would have to resort to plan B: Distract White Phantom until Miguel got close enough to bite and paralyze them.

Pavitr wasted no time in using his yoyo to hit White Phantom in the head. Hobie shot webs on their helmet, making them spin out of control.

Miguel hopped on the side Jessica’s bike as she drove up a building.

“You two are starting to piss me off!” White Phantom groaned in frustration, both gloved hands emerging from underneath their cloak. Using their telekinetic powers, they slammed Hobie and Pavitr into the ground effortlessly.

The sounds of a motorcycle got White Phantom’s attention. Jessica’s bike soared through the sky and Miguel jumped off, his fist instantly connecting with White Phantom’s helmet, resulting to a large crack.

White Phantom was knocked out and began falling. Miguel attached his web to a building, swooping in to catch them and landing safely.

Jessica pulled up beside him with her bike. “Are you gonna bite them?”

“Yeah, just to be safe.” Miguel answered with his rough voice, staring down at the villain in his arms. He grabbed White Phantom’s wrist, sinking his fangs deep and releasing his paralyzing venom.

“That gets creepier every time I see it.” Miles commented with Gwen by his side.

He had a crazy bruise in the middle of his forehead, but he already had a crazy story to tell his parents when they asked.

“You okay mate?” Hobie asked, but he looked more beat up that Miles.

“Yeah.” He nodded, feeling Miguel’s stare on him.

Miguel put White Phantom over his shoulder, protracted his claws, then wiped his mouth from the excess venom that dripped from his fangs, onto his chin; he hated it. “You did okay, good job everyone.” Miguel walked over to Miles and ruffled his hair, then walked off to open a portal for himself.

That meant the world to Miles, his eyes sparkling in pure happiness. Even the other spiders were shocked by Miguel’s praise.

Gwen teasingly nudged him. “Good job.”

Hobie and Pavitr gave each other a fist bump.

“Time to head back to HQ.” Jessica told the young spiders.

🕷️

Next Part: –seven.

Tags: @ohxx @thel0velykey190

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sailingshellsgames · 2 years

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Demo Link

☀️ Play now ☀️

Other Links

☀️ Patreon ☀️

☀️ Ko-fi ☀️

☀️FAQ☀️

Leas: City of the Sun, an interactive fiction game

Enter the city of Leas, where humans dwell in safety behind city walls while strange and powerful Fey roam the wilds. Play as one of a rare few skilled enough to explore the outside world, an agent of Den Zarel.

After making a dangerous discovery you are sent on a mission that unfolds into an adventure that will unearth more than expected, and more than you alone can handle.

Fortunately, you’ll have help along the way: a lifelong friend hiding a dangerous secret, a mysterious and taciturn rogue, and an eccentric and charming mage unite under your banner to help save your city, and possibly, the world.

ROs

🧡 Keoanai Hakana

Personality - An agent of Den Zarel and MC’s oldest friend. Capable, strong, and stoic, with a tendency to get lost in thought. Protective of the MC. The child of a human-Fey union, Keo has seen a great deal of both Fey and human society, and struggles to find the point of balance between them.

Physical Appearance - Warm brown eyes flecked with gold, tan skin, dark hair usually pulled back in a messy bun, muscled.

🧡 Rin (last name unknown)

Personality - Snarky, clever, and sarcastic to a fault, but fiercely loyal. Not much is known about Rin’s background - and Rin, meanwhile, seems reluctant to share much. Comes from Den Luana of Leas’ sister-city, Dalusin.

Physical Appearance - Striking silver eyes, pale skin, black hair, intentionally nondescript clothing, aside from some silver rings and a small cloth tied around the neck.

🧡 Wren Iolenas

Personality - Wren is witty, charismatic, and wildly intelligent. A traveling archivist of great renown, new to the city of Leas yet already surprisingly well-connected. Silver tongued when dealing with the nobility and always ready with a smile when MC wants to talk.

Physical Appearance - Sharp brown eyes, deep brown skin, dark hair, shimmering gold tattoos along their hands and forearms, small scars on their fingers.

Highlights

Choose your gender (including nonbinary) and sexuality

Three romanceable love interests (LI genders determined based on player sexuality, all routes available to all players), and a no-romance route

Choose your specialty within your Den. Play as a prodigy, conjurer, diplomat, or focus on a bit of everything as a jack-of-all-trades, or specialize in nothing at all

Train skills and set your personality through choices

No wrong choices: skill checks can be failed, and the content and flavor of the story changed, but ultimately there is no “game over” screen, just different endgame outcomes.

Author Notes

Thank you for reading through this post! If you choose to check out the demo I hope you enjoy playing it as much as I did writing it. Either way, I’m happy to have you here :)

Game is currently in-progress, and will be submitted to Hosted Games when complete. You can check out the hosted games forum post here

#Leas: City of the Sun #CYOA #choose your own adventure #Hosted Games #romance #fantasy #game #leas #interactive fiction #games #IF #choice game #romance game

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starlite-writes · 1 month

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At the top of the International Galactic and Oceanic Research Administration, there is a woman.

Very few know of her at all. Most of those who do, do not know her name. They simply call her the Corvid, not only for the omen of misfortune that she is but for the birds she keeps.

The name she gives to those at the top of her hierarchy is Wren.

Wren is a figure shrouded in mystery, concealed so well that her very existence is a hotly debated topic. Some speculate she is only a corporate urban legend, while others say that she—or someone who pretends to be her—must exist.

This is exactly how she likes it.

To be perceived is to be vulnerable, and to be known is to be accountable. Wren has gotten better over the years at holding herself together in polite company, at pulling strings and weaving complex stories to hide reality, but old habits die hard, and it is troublesome to hide one's true nature all the time.

So she does not exist, and thus, she cannot be held accountable for her actions. There will always be someone below her to take the fall—someone nameless, or someone unworthy of his position. There is no greater joy than bringing misfortune upon the deserving, except perhaps bringing it upon the undeserving.

There's a thrill in the chase, in the chess game few know they're playing with her. She's never truly grown out of it—seeing just how closely she can toe the line of acceptable and not without falling over it, and how well she can manipulate her way out of trouble when she does manage to slip. In a way, she is still the same child who sickened water sources just to see if she could get away with it.

There are none who escape death, and there are none who escape bad luck and malaise as it seeps from her cupped hands like water.

---

Beneath Wren sits two scientists, so identical in appearance they could easily be mistaken for twins despite their two-year age difference.

The eldest, known now only as Dr Adaliah Silk, is the image of corporate cruelty. A skilled politician and the head of the space research institute of IGORA, she is often mistaken for the kinder of the two. Though she’s often found smiling, it is rarely warm—as icy as her blue eyes. She is the public face of the company as a whole, with a stunning record of achievement and considerable abilities. There is next to nothing she can do wrong in the eyes of the public. It’s no wonder such a woman is of great interest to many who seek to emulate her success as well as those who wish to tear her down.

Dr Caspian Tussah would make no secret of his past identity as Aurelius Soros if it weren’t for the two women above his head. As it stands, he plays his role of silent but deadly, staying out of the foreground and attending only to his beloved oceanic research institute. He is often seen as cold and callous—the opposite to his cheerful and personable sister. Under his belt are many successes, but a startling number of failures that call to question his qualifications.

Appearances are often deceiving, and many employees would tell you that about the two scientists. Where Dr Silk embraces her role as a cold scientist in a capitalistic society, it is Dr Tussah that maintains a shred of humanity. But where Dr Silk remains the more terrifying of the two, it is Dr Tussah who has the most blood on his hands.

Blood never truly comes clean, and all secrets come to light eventually.

#my writing #igora #trinity #text #series: a portrait of #oc: dr silk #oc: dr tussah #oc: the corvid

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charliechaotic · 2 months

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hii this is smth for me but i hope anyone would like- I have zero clue how to write batfam or gotham stuff, so please dear gods give me advice if possible <3 (my only reference is tumblr writing prompts, reaction videos, and the Dark Matter fic lmao- this is uh. basically the concept is my oc ending up in Gotham- So far thats all this is gonna be, but I hope you enjoy <:):

When Wren awakes, it is in pain. Agony agony agony agoNY AGONY AGONY-

It feels like he's drowning. Burning? Both? His memory feels so fuzzy. Where is he? ..What happened?

Everything goes dark again.

When Wren awakes again, he finds himself laying on a rooftop, staring up at the night sky- cast over with a deep pollution unfamiliar to him. It was a rare night in Relsia to not be able to see the stars.

He is quick to sit up, coughing up nothing but his own breath, tears welling in his eyes as he takes back in the memory of the feeling.

That color. So vivid in his mind, surrounding him- it matched that of his eyes, should he not have had the flakes of gold in them. It unsettles him to think about.

His body aches as he pushes himself up, hugging his well worn hoodie close- when had it gotten so torn up? It looked like he'd been in some big fight while wearing it, but he cant quite pull the memory up. He tries to keep himself steady, shortening his staff to use as a support. He has to work out where he is, despite the pain gnawing at him. Had he used his power too much? It felt like he'd been torn apart and pit together a million times.

He brushes his hair back with his hands, fixing his glasses on his face. "Id almost kill to see Merc right now."

He finds himself speaking aloud, discomforted by the silence around him. Maybe he could get himself to the Northeast end of the city and stop by. He had promised to stop by sometime soon. He made no promises he wouldn't be in incredible pain. If he could make it that far across the city, anyway. He manages to get himself to about two rooftops away from his starting point before the aching starts to bring him down. He needs to rest, unfortunately. Maybe he can find somewhere alright in the streets below- he can't seem to recognize the area. It looks worse than the worst part of Relsia he's seen in his life. He studies the streets below, trying to work out a normal way to climb down and get a look around- maybe he could sneak a ride on a bus or something. He's willing to risk getting attacked on one today. He sways ever slightly as he thinks, before a voice startles him out of it.

"Hey, buddy. Could you step away from the edge for me?"

He flinches at the sound, immediately turning his gaze to the voice, glaring with distrust at the source- making eye contact with a man around his height, but with a lot more muscle. He appears to be wearing a costume- some kind of 'super suit' probably. His outfit is mostly black, he exception being the streaks of blue- one being centered on his chest. If he were able to think any clearer, he'd say it looked like the way you add birds in the background of paintings in fourth grade. He'd find it a little amusing if he couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest, still glaring.

The man raises his arms a bit, giving a reassuring smile.

"Hey, its okay. My name is Nightwing. Are you alright?"

Wren feels the mans gaze flick between his hair and eyes, taking a slight step back- further towards the ledge.

"Your name means nothing. I dont know who you are."

His voice comes out in a sharper tone than he intends, his words distorted in a way that almost sounds like a glitchy phone call, on top of the buzz of a voice modulator. He seems a bit surprised by his own voice, a hand reaching up to his throat out of confusion.

uhhhh thats the end lmao- i genuinely Just wrote this so uhm. hope someone sees it? and enjoys? <:) you can probably see some obvious inspiration from Dark Matter, which I completely accept drbrh- I really liked the concept! though how Wren got in the pit water is VERY different heheh

#wren sonnet #dcu #batfam #nightwing #dick grayson #oc in dc #relsia to gotham au #maybe ill call it:#fallen stars and rising dust #oc writing #dc writing #dark matter au #dark matter inspired #asking for advice #please gods help me this sounds really fun but I have no clue what im doing

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containatrocity · 1 year

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"Hi Mr. Slade!" The bell over the door to O'Connell Outdoors chimes, and the familiar red crop of Wren Romero's hair appears through it, along with a pair of baskets of fruit and preserves. "Daddy's right behind me with some stuff to donate to the shop for the hunters- guns he ain't usin' no more, a couple boxes of bullets an' the like- but this is for you!" She informs, handing over one of the baskets with a smile. "We didn't have time to get 'em done for everybody before Christmastime- but these ones are for you and Mr. O'Connell."

"Wrenny, darlin, come get this from me-" another voice insists suddenly, the familiar timbre of Duck Romero chiming from just outside- the girl quickly rushing to sit down the baskets and retrieve a pair of shotguns from the man- Duck stepping up into the shop with his knee locked in its brace. "Fuckin' thing'll kill me sooner than the ghosts. Sorry about the intrusion, Rance, I'm just workin' overnight tonight, figured we'd bring this by early. I take it Persephone's out?" He doesn't see hide nor hair of the younger man, but that's not exactly rare. "The kids put together Christmas baskets for everybody in town- been workin' on them since the beginning of last year, so now I'm on the hook playin' delivery boy- you wanna trade? I'll stock bullets, you can be a beleaguered father a' two?"

@darkestxdreams

#d.rance #d.rance.01 #d.threads

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galactic-potterhead · 1 year

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𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋮ 𝐓ä𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋮ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ┄ Din Djarin x Female Original Character ⋮ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 ┄ Star Wars

𝟎𝟑 || 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞’𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

17 years had passed since the destruction of her planet but what happens two strangers appear on Tatooine, both on a journey of their own.

𝐂𝐖: This story will contain various scenes of graphic violence, mature content, and possibly traumatic details. Character Death, childhood trauma resurfacing.

Note || I am so sorry for the late update! I ended up getting the Flu + Bronchitis right after getting over Covid, so I was busy trying to get better. This is my first Christmas post; if you don’t celebrate Christmas, than Happy Holidays to whichever one you do celebrate. I hope you had a wonderful time! Also, the inspiration for this chapter was ‘Hope It Hurts’ by Jessica Ricca.

Word Count: 3.4k (This was a long one :)

<- Previous Chapter || Next Chapter ->

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐞,

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐒𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦

. . . 2 BBY

Her father was a strange man.

Or so that’s what he always portrayed himself to be. For as long as Wren knew him, he always had cryptic messages ready for any occasions and overall had a different perspective of life. She always assumed that it was because of all his life experiences.

He rarely shared stories from his past but when he did — Oh, Wren could listen for hours. She found her father to be the most interesting man she knew. Though, technically speaking, he was the only man she knew. (Aside from her brother and Bail Organa, who was a good friend of her father’s.)

Wren learned all about his adventures with his former master, the Clone Wars, her mother. Although she never got to hear about his Padawan. Whenever the topic came up, he averted his attention to another tale. Of course, through the books she collected over the years, Wren knew his name was Anakin Skywalker but she decided not to pressure her father about him.

If he didn’t speak of him it was probably for a good reason.

“Birdie, focus.” Her father’s voice brought her out of her thoughts.

She jumped at his sudden appearance and looked up to meet his eyes.

Wren was supposed to be meditating while he went and made them lunch, but she just couldn’t concentrate. Something felt off. She knew that something was different on their planet but she wasn’t experienced enough to decipher what it was.

“Im sorry, isä. Something just feels. . .off? Something in the force is distracting and its throwing me off.” She apologised, accepting the mug of juice and a plate of veggie wraps, her favourite.

Wren hardly ate meat. Occasionally her father would make Tanarian Vulk bacon but only because it was so rare in the shops of Anchorhead, that was her one exception. She couldn’t resist TV bacon; but other than that she was almost entirely a vegetarian.

“Ah, so you do feel it?” He asked with a sliver of pride as his lips quirked up at the ends.

She noticed that it was rare that her father ever smiled anymore, but when he did it made her feel all warm and safe. She loved his smile. It was a sign of his happiness and affection. Something that was not seen often but she knew was there.

She nodded in response and chewed her food In silence. It was almost as if the force was willing her to be silent but she didn’t mind because she was far too hungry to complain.

“There are two new visitors on this planet. One from my past and another from someone else’s. One with good intentions and one with only one; my demise.” Her father spoke up, allowing her silence to be filled with his explanation.

Her eyes slightly widened at his bluntness but she didn’t speak, in fears of interrupting him.

“Maul is the one that invaded your homeworld, Stella Lux Prime. The one who killed your mother, ordered someone to kill your sister.” And as he went on, Wren could feel her dislike for the man growing.

Wren knew she ought not to feel hate but it was like a disease. This man murdered half her people on their planet, her mother and sister included. How could her father not hate him?

“I do not have any resentment toward Maul. It was never the Jedi way and it was something I stuck too even after the fall of our council.” Said her father, a gentle look on his face. “If we allow our own personal vendettas cloud our vision, how will we see clearly in times of need?” He added, clearing up her confusion.

She swallowed her food and placed her plate on the slab in front of both of them. “I won’t hold a vendetta against him, even after what he did. Lupaan.” Wren says, anger weakening away slowly.

He smiled shortly before leaning over and placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, just as he did many times when she was younger.

“I know you won’t. That is why you will accompany me to confront our visitors.” He insisted, leaving them to finish their lunches in complete silence.

The suns were still present when Wren and her father came across a young boy, no older than eighteen, as well as a white droid with orange, yellow, and green accents. The poor droid had lost charge in the attempt to cross the large acres of Tatooine’s sand field, and the boy lost energy to carry on.

The boy was unconscious at first sight but woke up to the sound of their footsteps. She squat down to his figure and he weakly glanced up at her. Wren couldn’t tell whether he recognised her or not but offered a soft smile in case he did.

The suns would be setting in the next hour so she knew that they had very little time to actually move him, let alone the resources to do so. They had only one blurgg at the time because Rory was sick. The blurgg barely fit the two of them as it was, so it was hard telling what he father had planned.

“We will settle here until he is prepared to leave.” Her father says, gesturing to the boy at her feet.

She nods in agreement before fixing the boy’s head on a rolled sleeping mat. Then proceeded to help her father prepare a fire pit in order to keep them warm.

~•~

When nightfall reached, the began to stir. The droid had woken up a bit ago due to her father charging him up with a light battery pack. She sat beside her father and their Blurgg in between the boy and his droid.

Since the droid, Chopper, had been restored of its power, it went on about who this boy was and who his owner truly was. She was shocked that the droid had trusted her with such confidence but she also felt honoured. Their owner was Hera Syndulla, and the boy, Ezra Bridger is a protégé of her boyfriend, Kanan Jarrus.

Wren enjoyed hearing about their wild adventures and began wondering what the galaxy had planned for her. Was she supposed to stay on Tatooine like her father? Or was she supposed to fight in the rebellion with her brother? She honestly had no clue why her father remained on Tatooine. Sure, the Jedi were supposed to be in exile but why Tatooine? They could have gone anywhere like Naboo, Yavin, or even Alderaan but they didn’t.

The shuffling draws her attention back to reality and she watched Ezra rub the sleep out of his eyes upon seeing her father, who was poking the fire with a stick, his hood still on which gave him an ominous look.

“You’re in the wrong place, Ezra Bridger.” Her father claimed, not even giving the boy a minute to settle in consciousness.

“Master?” He questioned, dazed and confused. “Master Kenobi?” He asks again, sitting up much more rapidly.

“Slow down, Ezra. You’ve just woken up from a state of dehydration. You’ll make yourself sick.” She chipped in, her tone much more soft and relaxed than her father’s.

His eyes dart to her for a moment, before they returned to the man at her side.

“I am.” He confirmed after a moment, sparing her a soft look. “And when you have your strength I will help you own your way.” Her father insisted before standing up and moving over to Chopper.

“On my way?” Ezra asked confused. “No, I came here to find you.” He frantically continued, looking over at him as he dusts Chopper’s top off.

She smiled slightly upon seeing his affection for the droid. Wren knew that he always had a soft spot for droids, thought he had gotten used to having to let them go if they were destroyed.

“To warn you.” Ezra added on.

“About Maul?” Wren asked, sitting up a bit straight. Whereas her father interlocked his hands at his front.m, calm and collected as always.

Ezra’s eyes get wide as he met her eyes for a moment. “Yes!”

But then looks confused, “uh, you know?” He asked, looking back to her father.

“One doesn’t survive as long as I have by being foolish or unprepared.” Wren’s father informed him, while walk past Chopper.

“Maul is an old adversary and a persistent one at that.” Her father says moving over to stand by Ezra.

“Not to mention her murdered my mother and my sister in cold blooded revenge.” Wren put in her comment, leaving her father to look sternly at her as Ezra’s eyes grew even wider.

“What? Im not saying I have a grudge against him for it. I promised, Isä.” She reminded him, throwing up her arms in defence.

“We can fight him together.” Ezra swore, holding up his fist with courage and determination.

Wren grinned at this. The boy was brave, she had to admire him for that.

However, her father doesn’t even face Ezra. “I had no intention of fighting him.” He told Ezra with a short glance. “Though that seems inevitable now.” He added, sighing discontented.

“You don’t understand. You’re the answer.” Ezra is in disbelief and she couldn’t blame him. At first she was too. “The holocrons told me. They said you would be the one to help us destroy the sith.”

Wren’s face twisted in confusion and she looked intently at her father. But he simply hummed and looks over at Ezra. “Hmm. It’s the first I’ve heard of it.” He says before turning to face Ezra completely.

“The rebellion needs you. We need you to defeat the Empire.” Ezra claims boldly and unrealistically.

She wanted to speak out. She wanted to claim that ‘the rebellion already had one of their best fighters. Her brother. Oberon.’ But she didn’t.

“What you need, you already have.” Her father insisted, stepping closer to Ezra. “unfortunately you seem to be letting it a go.”

Ezra looked confused once again by his cryptic messages but she understood fully. “But if I had what I needed why would the holocrons send me to you?” The boy asked.

Her father’s expression shift into gravely serious one and she had a feeling she knew why. “They didn’t. Maul did.”

Ezra looks shocked, almost as if he silently gasped and she pursed her lips tightly in order to hold the gasp crawling up her throat. This was a bait.

The older man puts a hand on Ezra’s back and encouraged him to take a seat with him, while wren remained seated across from them. “Maul used your desire to do good to deceive you and in doing so he has altered the course of many things.”

Ezra looks ashamed and almost embarrassed. She felt sorry for him. Wren knew all too well what it felt like to be taken advantage of when in the realm of ignorance. You never truly move on from it. She would know. It has been a constant reminder for her; never trust anyone. Her brother and father were exceptions.

“He knows your fears, your heart, and he manipulated the truth — which has led you here, where you should never have been.” Her father explains while looking into the fire, only taking a single glance at Ezra.

Ezra looking at the fire says, “But the holocrons, they tell the truth.” Ezra tried to defend.

Slight amusement cheered her father’s grave expression and he looks over at Ezra with sort of a ‘Oh really’ expression. “Do they?” He paused. “The truth is often what we make of it.” He explored, looking at Ezra passionately.

“You heard what you wanted to hear, believed what you wanted to believe. And now, the only one who has gained anything from all of this is…” Her father spoke calmly, him and Ezra looking at each other now. As he trailed off slightly, she felt a tingle up her spine.

Then an arm curled around her neck before she could react. She withheld her gasp and dug her nails into the unexpected assailant.

“Me.” A man growled from behind her, getting both of their attentions.

“You know, it is really hard forgiving you when you do things like this.” She managed to choke out, his grip tightened but he didn’t respond.

Ezra went to stand up but her father pushed him back down and gets Ezra to look at him. “You must go now.” He encouraged the boy calmly, despite her being held captive in the arms of his enemy.

Ezra looked irritated. “I led him to you. Let me make it right.” Ezra says, his face softening as he reached out to the former Jedi Master. Though his eyes hardly moved from hers.

He glanced over his shoulder giving him a parenting scold. “That is not your responsibility. I will mend this old wound.”

Just by his presence in the force, she could assume Maul almost looked impressed or shocked by his words but his scowls returned as quickly as it had disappeared.

Her father gestures to the blurgg while looking at Ezra. “Ride North. That is your way out.”

Maul squeezed her throat and her eyes lifted, in an attempt of meeting his eyes to show her annoyance, but failed. Wren clawed his he skin but he didn’t even flinch.

The blurgg grunts and Chopper flew up, happy to return back to his owner and her father spoke again. “Your way home.” Her father added to his previous statement, much softer.

They share a look of understanding and Ezra climbed onto the blurgg without another argument. Chopper lowers onto the blurgg also. Ezra gave her an apologetic frown and she shook her head as best she could, mustering a small smile in return to show that she was alright.

Ezra jerks the reigns slightly and the blurgg turns and begins to walk away with a grunt.

“See you soon apprentice.” Maul called out. He sounded mad as a hatter and she felt a small bubble of fear.

Her father turns his head at his words and then slowly turns around to face them again. Maul had his free hand-up in a goodbye, sarcastic most likely. He sighs as Ezra rides away and then looks to the older Jedi.

“Look what has become of you.”Maul sneered. “A rat in the desert.”

“Look what I have risen above.” He returned, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I’ve come to kill you.” Maul says, pushing her up to her feet so that they could walk closer to the fire. “But perhaps its worse to leave you here, festering in your squalor and to grieve the loss of this pretty thing here in my arms.” Maul says as they circled around the fire pit.

“If you define yourself by your power to take life, a desire to dominate, to possess, then you have nothing.” He says as Maul stops, though her father still inches around the fire, glancing every other second down at her.

Maul growls and scowls. And in a flash of anger, Maul removes his lightsaber from his wood staff and ignites it. She jumped at the sudden red blade and he swung it and tossed sand into the fire. “Then what do you have?” He snarled.

The sand had put out the fire and she felt fear ride up higher. Maul held his saber horizontally, awaiting the next move and she slowly began reaching behind her.

Her father acted as a nice distraction as her hands moved slowly and quietly. Wren could feel the emitter graze her fingers and she curled her dominant hand around her hilt, awaiting her father’s next move.

“Why come to this place?” Maul asks, straightening up and gesturing to the planet around them with his head.

“Not simply to hide.” Maul continued and her father hardens his face more as if afraid-to look vulnerable.

Maul purred, pressed his cheek to hers. She winced but not because one of his horns cut into her eyebrow, but because of his faces closeness to her own. She hated when men flirted with her, it made her uncomfortable and even more so when they touched her without consent.

“Oh, you have a purpose here.” Maul says coming to a realisation. “Perhaps you are protecting something.” He assumes amusedly, in a teasing tone.

“No.” Maul amused. “Protecting someone.” Maul concluded.

Wren’s head jerked up to meet her father’s face and what she saw caused worry to burst in her stomach. A soft fear was shown as her father’s eyebrow twitched and his lightsaber is ignited in seconds. Eyes narrowing. She never knew why they had stayed snd Maul just came to a conclusion in minutes.

Despite her confusion, she swiftly connected her pieces together ignited her saber. Maul stumbles in confusion and Wren swiped at his thigh, momentarily stunning him. She rolled away from the zabrak man and ended up beside her father, who pushed her behind him protectively.

She watched her father twirl his saber slowly and get into his duel pose, just like he did in the clone wars. His saber up high and at his ear while his other held to finger up, pointing in his opponent’s direction. She found it quite dramatic but he was her father, she loved him for his dramatics.

Wren preferred to move unexpectedly.

Maul twirls his saber just as slow and held it out in front of him before ignited the other half of his dual ended saber. He spun his saber a few times (much faster than her father) before getting into what seemed to be his duelling position, his saber at his side almost behind his back.

A stare off happens and no one moves for a moment. She felt the tension rise and didn’t even need to raise her sage green blade to see it. (The colour of her crystal was sage green but it had a unique seafoam luminescent glow.)

Maul spins his saber again but this time grabs it with two hands. Her father lowers both his saber and his extended arm and holds his weapon outward with both hands before turning his upper body and holding his saber at-his side in his two hands. Both faces stone cold. It was as if they were having a show with their separate acts and she raised her brows slightly at that thought.

Maul’s feet shift on the ground, as if he were antsy and it didn’t go unnoticed by either of them, her father’s grip tightens and she prepared herself to jump into action if she ever needed to help her father.

Maul lets out a battle cry and lunges forward. Spinning his body and twirling his saber all at once, making a swing at her father’s right shoulder, who blocks it easily.

Wren took a step back and held her saber at her side, tensely.

Maul’s other end swings at her father’s ankles but he blocks it and with one powerful rut, he sliced the duel ended saber in the middle. He moved so quickly that she hardly even noticed that all in the same slash, he had cut Maul across his chest as well.

Maul dropped into a kneel and slowly lowers his sabers as they deactivated, before dropping them to the ground.

Her father deactivates his saber and catches Maul in his arms as he falls, so she deactivates her also and moved over slowly.

She couldn’t help but notice that her father held no hateful emotions on his features, he looks remorseful. Maul looks up at him with his bright yellow eyes. Stuttering his words, he says, “tell me. . .”

Maul reaches weakly for her father’s left shoulder but his hand drops. “Is it the Chosen One?” He asked.

Wren frowned looking at the red figure with black markings, before turning to look at her dad with just as much confusion. He looked even more remorseful down at Maul. “He is.” He confirmed disheartened.

Maul meets her eyes and she felt deep regret in his breeze. “I. . .didn’t. . .kill. . .your mother. . .sh. . .she eh. . .Escaped. . .” He choked out.

Maul almost looks relieved as he looks up at the stars. “The chosen . . .one…will avenge…us.” He says in his last breath, but Wren was far too focused on what he had said about her mother.

She stood up furiously as her father closes Maul’s eyes with a weak dip of his head.

While her father had placed a gentle hand on Maul’s right ribcage, she stared down at her father with betrayal, pain, and confusion.

What the hell did Maul mean when he said that he hadn’t murdered her mother and that she had escaped?

Surely he was just trying to get the last laugh? But something in the force told her that he hadn’t been trying to fool her. Ventora Vahva’Toivo escaped Stella Lux Prime. . . But she never looked for Oberon, her father, or her.

Translations:

Isä — “Father”

Aion. Lupaan. — “I will. I promise.”

|| Taglist ||

@alwayssnivellus

#the mandalorian x oc #star wars fanfic #Tähtisumu #star wars #fanfiction #din djarin #galactic-potterhead #obi wan kenobi #the mandalorian #star wars fanfiction #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #maul #chopper #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus

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casspurrjoybell-28 · 5 months

Text

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 49 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

After the fall of Theo, there were a few things that happened.

The first is that the next day I woke up to the doorbell ringing incessantly.

I decide to go get it so Lucien doesn't have to, considering he got back to the house in the early morning and collapsed right into bed.

I open the door to see my three friends standing there, Lylah, Wren, and Jay.

I'm prepared to go into a whole explanation about why I never told them about being from Dark Moon when all three of them crush me in a hug.

"You don't have to explain anything."

"You're our best friend."

"We love you."

I hug them back as tight as I can, so grateful for their words.

"Thank you guys," I tear up. "You all mean the world to me."

The second thing that happened was that after Daemon, Tristan and Lucien all hassled the council, it was decided I could stay in the pack as long as I got my Dark Moon mark removed and replaced with a Shadow Pack one.

I gladly cooperated. Good riddance.

And the third thing... well it's happening tonight.

Right now I'm getting ready for Daemon to pick me up.

We're doing a kind of... redo, I guess, of our failed first date.

I've decided, though, that I'm going to count our first date as the time we snuck off to the lake together, right after we kissed for the first time.

That's one of the best memories in my life.

But anyways, I decide I'm going to have to do it up tonight, appearance wise.

I want to look nice for him.

And while Lylah says he'd love me even in a trash bag, I want to go above and beyond.

I shower and use all kinds of soaps and shampoos so I smell good.

I brush my hair and blow dry it so it fluffs up.

I also apply some light makeup, just a hint of blush and highlighter, nothing more because I don't want to conceal the freckles Daemon loves so much.

Lastly, I apply some chap-stick and white eyeliner to go with my all white outfit.

I was originally going to wear the outfit for prom but since that never happened I decide there's no better time to wear it than now.

As I'm pulling the clothes out of the dresser I spot the lacy underwear Lylah had given to me before everything went to shit.

My stomach twists in excitement.

I pull off my clothes and slip the panties on, walking over to the mirror to see how I look.

The underwear barely conceals anything with it's see through material but it compliments my figure and accentuates the dip of my waist and curve of my hips and butt.

I squeal, dancing around like an idiot because for once in my life I feel totally confident in my looks and I can't wait for him to see me.

It's rare and it's probably temporary but I'm too happy to care.

I pull on the rest of the outfit.

A cream croqueted shirt, some low-rise boot cut jeans in the same color and to top it off, a simple pearl choker.

Satisfied with everything, I slip on my shoes and bound downstairs.

Lucien's reading a book in the living room and he looks up when he sees me.

"Someone looks excited," he smiles, closing his book and getting up to walk over to me.

"Do you like my outfit?" I ask him giddily.

"It's very nice," he chuckles.

I hear the sound of a car pulling up outside and my heart jumps.

"I think he's here."

"Wait, Ash. Er... how do I say this?" Lucien scratches the back of his head awkwardly.

I tilt my head in confusion, waiting for him to continue.

What could it be?

"You two are using some form of contraceptive, right?"

"Oh," my face goes red and I look down, completely mortified.

So he knows. I mean, of course he does.

"Um D-Daemon gets the p-pill for me," I reply, embarrassing myself even further because I'm exposing the fact that we do it raw.

But when I was in heat, that was the only way to calm me down.

It also feels nicer, in general.

"Ah. Okay. Good," he chuckles nervously. "Fifty is too young to be a grandfather."

"L-Lucien," I squeak, covering my face with my hands.

I didn't know it could get worse from him knowing his own son bangs me.

"I'm sorry, my boy. Go have fun," he ruffles my hair and I give him a hug.

"Bye," I exclaim before I'm rushing out the door, thankful to leave that painfully awkward situation behind.

But it shows that Lucien cares, and I appreciate it. I walk down the steps to where my mate waits, a bouquet of roses in his hands.

He's not wearing a suit, of course he isn't and I wouldn't want him to.

I like him how he is.

My rugged Daemy dressed in his dark jeans and leather jacket.

When he sees me his eyes widen and fill with affection and I nearly tear up at how he's looking at me.

He holds a hand out to me but I don't take it, instead throwing myself into his arms.

Instantly he's picking me up and spinning me around as I bury my smiling face into his neck.

"You look beautiful," he says softly into my ear and I blush, my heart warming at the compliment.

Still holding me up, he observes my face, eyes trailing over my features.

"You put on white eyeliner, right?"

"Yes," I giggle, not expecting him to know a specific makeup term.

"It suits you. Matches your hair," he grins, kissing me again as he sets me down. "Your whole... thing," he refers to my outfit. "Its super cute," he says in adoration.

"I'm glad you like it," I blush. "You look so handsome, too," I say, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

It's his turn to blush now because his face reddens and he looks away, holding my hand as he guides me to his car.

Cutie. He can't take a compliment.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"It's a surprise," he grins to himself, obviously excited about whatever he's gonna show me.

When we reach our destination, I don't know what to expect.

He parks the car and we get out but I'm confused.

We're in a neighborhood with just a few houses.

But he takes me by the hand and leads me to one of them.

It's two story but small and it looks really cozy with the deep brown paneling and dark tinted windows.

"Are we visiting someone?" I ask.

He shakes his head, pulling me to him and wrapping an arm around my waist as we both face it.

"This is my house."

My eyes widen.

"What?"

"The council... they felt kind of responsible for everything that happened to me because of Theo. As compensation, they moved me out of the pack house. To here. So I can live close to Lucien. I mean, it's not free, exactly. I had to do some co-payments and of course the rent is on me but... I really wanted it."

"T-that's amazing. I'll be able to visit you more easily too."

"Baby," he has a knowing smile on his face. "I want you here. With me."

My jaw drops, the proposal taking me by surprise.

"What? Me??"

"No, that cricket on the ground," he says sarcastically and I look down, shrieking as said cricket jumps toward me.

He bursts out laughing and I cross my arms, pouting up at him.

"Still, Daemon. H-How can...are you sure? You wouldn't rather choose like, Tristan or someone?"

Daemon looks at me in disbelief.

"Why the hell would I want to live with Tristan and his cat that pisses everywhere?"

I can't help the giggle that escapes me but then I look down, uncertain.

I do want to live with Daemon, I really do.

But what if something goes wrong?

What if he starts to find the odd things about me annoying rather than endearing?

And I also can't contribute much money-wise.

His large hand encases my small one, giving it a light squeeze.

"Hey, look at me," he brings his other hand to my chin, tilting my face up. I look into his dark eyes, worrying at first but what I see is all warmth.

"I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you in my arms every night. Is that not good enough of a reason?" he says, stroking my cheek tenderly.

"But I... I have nightmares, Daemon. Y-you've witnessed how bad they are. W-what if you can never sleep properly?" I ask sadly.

"Why would I want to sleep when my mate can't?" Daemon looks at me like I'm crazy.

"I'll feel bad. A-and there's other things, too..."

"Whatever problems arise, we work through them together. I'm not going to let you hide away from me and keep everything to yourself. Okay?"

My lip trembles but then I nod, burying myself in his chest.

"O-Okay."

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judeswhore · 3 years

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wren interrupting mason during an interview 🥺❤️

very short fic for clingy wren <33 this gave me major baby fever i’m gna collapse

trouble - mason mount

Mason always tried to lock the door to the room he was in whenever he was doing an interview because the older Wren got the more she latched herself on to her father. She rarely left his side when he was home, following him around the house, her hand clutched in his or just wrapped in the material of his bottoms. It was like she’d taken to being his own little shadow, whatever Mason did, Wren did and it was guaranteed that if you couldn’t find her, you could look for him and she’d be right there.

Not that Mason minded having her with him, he was away a lot and so whenever he was home he wanted Wren to spend time with him. He was always afraid that all his time travelling would put strain on their relationship and would have them slowly grow apart as she got older, something you’d told him hundreds of times would never happen. Wren was completely besotted, there would never be anyone she loved like she did him.

But her constant need to be around him proved incredibly difficult when he’d been asked to do an interview or stream from home. Wren would constantly be trying to get him to play and would end up being incredibly moody for the rest of the day if he had to send her away. At four years old she didn’t yet understand that Mason was still working even though he was home, in her eyes, her father being home meant he was completely free to spend time with her.

Mason was currently sitting in front of his computer, fluffy white hoodie wrapped around his upper body, camera and mic turned on so he could answer questions about his latest call up for the England team. He’d thought he’d locked the door and was almost certain you’d already gotten Wren ready for bed so really wasn’t expecting his little girl to come peaking behind the door.

“I think being called up in general is amazing and something I’m forever grateful for, but to be called up with Dec again is something extra-“ Mason’s cut himself off momentarily when his phone pinged, eyes glancing down at the little device to see a text from you.

incoming

In the same second the door behind him slowly creaked open, Wren’s little head popping around it. Despite knowing she shouldn’t be in there, Mason turned and grinned, shaking his head at the fact she couldn’t even make it thirty minutes without seeing him.

“Sorry, just one sec,” He sent an apologetic look towards the interviewer on his screen but he just shook his head, a smile evident on his own face at the appearance of a baby Mount.

“Hi, daddy.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, trouble?” Wren sent him a sheepish look, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind her, her back pressed tight against the wood. You’d already had her in the bath, her body now wrapped in a pair of princess pyjamas, her hair in loose fly away curls around her head. Wren could clearly see his computer screen and the man on it and she glanced between that and her father for a few seconds, clearly debating something.

She suddenly ran towards Mason and he just had time to open his arms before she launched herself at him, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck while she buried her face in his shoulder. Mason heard the laugh of the interviewer and knew it would only be moments before Wren completely stole everyone’s hearts.

“I wanted to give you a kiss before I go to sleep.” She whispered in his ear, but Wren’s whispering was the same as her regular voice just a little bit deeper so it was obvious the mic caught it.

“Oh isn’t she the cutest.” The interviewer gushed which just made Wren bury her face further into the material of Mason’s hoodie. He let out a soft laugh, his hand rising to pat the back of her head, fingers brushing through her freshly washed and dried hair.

“She’s a pain is what she is.” Mason joked, settling Wren properly in his lap so he could coax her face out from hiding but she was adamant in just clinging to him. “You have to look at me if you want a kiss, baby.”

“But then everyone will see.”

“Everyone can already see.” He told her, his knuckles grazing her cheek when she glanced up, peaking at the computer. Seeing her looking the man interviewing Mason gaze a little wave.

“Hey, mini Mount.”

“Gonna say hello, Wren?” She just shook her head and nuzzled her face back into the crook of Mason’s neck, her fingers clutched in his shirt. “I can’t believe you’re pretending to be shy.” He laughed again, hand lightly patting her thigh before tilting his head down and kissing her hair. “Come on then, kiss and then you can go to bed before mummy comes looking.”

Wren lifted herself out of his neck, shifting to keep her back to the computer and pouted her lips, Mason grinning before giving her a kiss, peppering her cheeks in them afterwards until she was giggling and squirming. She wriggled until she could slide off his lap, her fingers rubbing at her eyes as Mason ruffled her hair.

“I love you lots like jelly tots.” She mumbled, giving his leg a quick squeeze as a hug. Mason leant down and kissed her head again, smile bright and full of adoration.

“I love you lots like jelly tots.” He copied, gently tapping the end of her nose and then Wren was running back out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her. Mason stared at it for a few seconds, the sound of Wren shouting for you floating through the wood and then turned back towards the interviewer.

“Sorry about that, she gets extra clingy when I’m home after an away game.”

#england nt #chelsea fc #football #football imagine #money mase #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount fic #mason mount blurbs #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader

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thee-morrigan · 2 years

Text

map of your head

fhr // Julia Ortega/Wren Adler (f!sidestep) // rating: G // wc: 1.4k

[read on AO3]

It was the swearing that did it. At the second string of half-formed curses, Wren dropped from her perch on the edge of Jules’s countertop and stalked down the apartment hall toward the bathroom. She leaned against the door frame, tilting her chin up along with one eyebrow as her eyes met the reflection of Ortega’s in the mirror.

Ortega swore again, although this time it was directed at Wren. “Go away,” she said, flapping one hand in Wren’s general direction as she attempted to rake the other through her unruly dark curls, shaking loose a hair tie and snapping it onto her wrist. “Go back to raiding my fridge. Although how you can eat before a run is beyond me.”

Wren gave a lazy half-smile in response. “Years of practice.”

Yeah right, she thought, even as she heard the words leave her mouth. Years of practice being hungry. And years of practice before that at only having the precise array of nutrients necessary for optimal performance — no flavor required.

She hadn’t actually been raiding the fridge, anyway. Although she had been considering it, the longer she waited for Julia to emerge from the other end of the apartment, after swanning off half an hour ago saying she just needed to “throw on some leggings” and then she’d be good to go.

To her credit, Ortega did appear to have changed clothes. Her slim trousers and silk blouse had been replaced by bright red running tights and a matching sports bra, the summery color a cheerful, poppy complement to the rich warmth of her tanned skin.

And a stark contrast to the glower on her face as she grimaced at her reflection.

“Whassamatter, spot a gray hair?” Wren teased, shifting a little against the door frame as she shoved her hands in the pockets of her hooded athletic jacket, a much more sedate olive color.

“ Vete a la chingada, ” Julia shot back, although her frown had been supplanted by an affectionate eye roll. “I’m ready to go, by the way. I’m just trying to beat all of this ,” she gestured vaguely, spitefully, at her hair, “into some kind of submission. It’s too damn hot. I don’t want to keep pushing it out of my eyes every five minutes.”

She began scraping the thick dark waves back again, trying to twist them into something resembling a braid — if Wren had to hazard a guess, anyway, it was probably supposed to be a braid, although she couldn’t say she’d ever seen a braid with so little hair actually, well, braided.

She watched with no small degree of amusement for another moment, Julia’s struggle to contain her thick, unruly hair taken to new levels of tragicomedy with the bombastic gesturing she kept doing in lieu of more contained hand movements. She decided to be charitable today, though, and intervene before Julia started grumbling her usual line of threats to just shave her head entirely.

It always went this way. Julia rarely asked her outright to braid it for her; nonetheless, Wren always ended up braiding Jules’s hair. She’d offered to teach her, tried to teach her, everything from basic braids to French and Dutch variations meant to contain the willful waves that seemed so determined to unfurl themselves the second Ortega’s fingers released them.

But Julia always made a series of arguably valiant attempts at wrangling her own hair until Wren either got tired of waiting or until offering seemed kinder than calling Jules’s bluff and potentially sending the entire Rangers’ media team into early retirement if Ortega ever made good on her inevitable threats to just shave her whole head and negate the issue.

Not that she ever would, Wren thought. She was way too vain for that. Even if she would probably have managed to look even more gorgeous bald — and consequently turned shaven-headed heroes into a city-wide fashion trend.

“C’mon, Hair Monster,” Wren said, straightening from her slouch against the door jamb. “The sooner we get your hair out of your face and this ‘conditioning’ nonsense out of the way, the sooner you can raid your own damn fridge and make me dinner.”

“Who said anything about making you dinner?” Julia asked as she allowed herself to be tugged down the hallway into her living room, where she allowed herself to be further tugged towards her couch.

Wren let go of Ortega’s wrist and dropped onto the couch. “Sit,” she commanded with a scuffing kick of one small, sneakered foot against the living room rug, rather imperiously for one directing a woman almost twice her size around her own apartment.

Julia smiled entirely too fondly at her as she obediently accordioned her long body into a lazy tangle of limbs on the floor at Wren’s feet. She leaned back against the other woman’s shins, tipping her head back to rest against Wren’s knees and grinning toothily up at her. Wren’s face looked like a caricature of a scowl next to the sparkling expression on Julia’s.

Indeed, Julia’s general radiance seemed, if anything, to increase in response to the look on Wren’s small face, its fine-boned and vaguely angular features looking particularly sharp in their current pinched configuration.

When it became clear that Julia was neither going to reposition her head nor release Wren from the (in Wren’s opinion) wholly excessive smiling and eye contact, Wren narrowed her eyes slightly.

“If you reach up and boop my nose,” she threatened darkly, “I swear to god I’ll bite your finger this time.”

Julia’s broad smile expanded improbably further and she laughed, clearly delighted. She sat up, then, flipping her masses of dark hair back over her shoulders. Because she couldn’t help being totally insufferable, though, she caught Wren’s eye again as she looked back over one shoulder at her and winked. “Is that a dare or a double dare?”

“Why are we even friends,” Wren grumbled, though her scowl had fallen into something between fondness and something vaguely reminiscent of constipation.

“Because like any alley cat, you gravitate towards free food,” Julia responded promptly, then made a contented sound in her throat as Wren’s fingers raked through her hair.

Wren felt Ortega’s shoulder blades shift against her shins, whatever tension that typically resided there easing as she let herself lean into Wren. She kept her head upright this time, though, sitting remarkably still as Wren gathered her dark waves into one hand, her small, deft fingers weaving through the baby-fine hairs at Julia’s nape.

For several long moments, they sat in companionable silence, somewhat unusual but not at all unwelcome, as Wren methodically and neatly wound slender swathes of Julia’s hair into a thick braid halfway down her back. Because it was blessedly quiet (for once), and because Julia wasn’t fixing her with so much direct eye contact (also for once), Wren let herself relax just a bit, too. The press of Julia’s back against her lower legs, so warm and vital even through the layers of fabric between them, was wonderfully solid. As her fingers slid in a nimble weave through Julia’s hair, so soft and silken as she wound it between her fingers, she was momentarily struck with the absurd urge to lean forward and rest her cheek against the top of Jules’s head, as if to feel the soft strands of it against her face. This, of course, was an idea so terrifically awful that even registering the thought had occurred inside her own brain totally mortified Wren.

When she’d finished, snapping a hair tie from her own wrist in efficient loops around the tail, she tugged gently at the end of Julia’s braid, jostling her knees a bit against Julia’s scapula.

“Hair monster contained,” she said, rising and stepping towards the door the second Ortega’s weight shifted from resting against her calves.

Julia smoothed a hand over the back of her own head as she rose from the floor. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Wren shrugged, one hand on the front door knob. “Though if you wanted to repay me by describing in excruciating detail all the food I can eat the second we’re done with this godforsaken run, I wouldn’t complain.”

“And you asked why we’re friends,” Julia scoffed, reaching above Wren’s head to pull the door fully open and step out into the hallway behind her.

This time, when Wren was once again ensnared by Jules’s eyes on hers, she met the woman’s broad grin with a small yet sincere one of her own.

#once again daydreaming about julia ortega #and soft mundane moments in early sidestep days #katie writes things #fhr #julia ortega #chargestep #oc: wren adler #ship: you were my town

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zelenacat · 3 years

Text

When We Were Young- Chapter 24- An Obitine Story

Lunch was served in the main hall, but Satine did not attend. Instead, she sent Korkie, Khaami, Parna, and Hera in her place. Parna had returned with multiple copies of the audio, which were hidden all over the palace. Tristan and Tyra were engaged in espionage activities, so Satine ate her lunch in silence and then slept. Her night up with the twins had suddenly hit her and in the moment she could barely keep her eyes open.

“Your Grace?”

The Duchess groaned.

“Please, Lady Mother,” Tyra whispered, “I have news from the Council.”

Satine rolled over to find Khaami and Parna preparing a new outfit.

“What-”

“Almost dinner,” Tyra pulled her mother up, “and we have much to discuss.”

The Duchess was wearing one of her favorite gowns, the one she wore to meet Padme all those years ago when she was Queen of Naboo. It was blue and purple ombre with the Mandalorian star system embroidered on it.

“You look glorious, Lady Mother.” Tyra clapped.

Satine snorted, “Thank you, darling, but this girdle feels less than glorious.”

Parna laughed.

Khaami raised an eyebrow but couldn’t stop herself from smiling, “The news, Tyra.”

“Right,” Satine noticed her daughter was already dressed, “there was an ancient Sith who is believed to hide a powerful relic here, they say it’s on Concordia.”

The Duchess huffed.

“There’s more,” Tyra frowned sympathetically, “the Jedi believe he wanted to frame you for the creation of Death Watch to turn the people against you.”

Satine shook her head, “I hate those same old tricks.”

“Finally,” Tyra continued, “Mara and Boba have captured a couple criminals and are holding them in the cellar.”

The Duchess’ eyes went wide, “All this happened while I was asleep?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Khaami answered, fastening a ring of pearls around the Duchess’ neck, “Tristan is currently dressed as a regular servant and has been delivering the Count’s necessities.”

“Oh, poor Tristan.” Satine frowned.

“He’s doing well,” Parna assured, “we hope he’ll overhear something.”

Satine nodded, picking up her pearl-drop tiara.

“I want to see these vagrants before lunch,” she turned to Tyra, “please take me.”

The dungeon was a place Satine rarely was, and the last time had been because she was betrayed once again, so she was not looking forward to it. Fortunately, Mara and Boba clearly didn’t feel the same way.

“Mara,” Tyra gasped at the scene before them, “what is this!”

Sheepish, Mara extracted herself from Boba’s grip, “Hi, Tyra.”

“We’re dating,” Boba grinned, giving the Duchess a polite nod, “took Mara long enough.”

Satine raised an eyebrow, Tyra squealed.

“The criminals?” the Duchess prodded.

“Yes,” Mara blushed, “I’ll take you, Tyra must have special duties to attend to.”

Tyra turned to her mother, who nodded.

“We shall discuss this, Mara.” Tyra warned, wagging her finger before leaving.

Boba gave Mara a look, and she giggled.

“The criminals?” Satine asked again.

“Down the hall,” Mara pointed, “we’ll take you.”

As they approached the cells, Boba warned them not to get too close to the shields, but when Satine saw who was in jail, she took a step closer.

“Viceroy Gunray?”

The man’s head snapped up.

“Duchess Satine,” his voice made her skin curdle, “there clearly has been a mistake.”

“Certainly,” the Duchess agreed, “you were most certainly not invited, unless of course, you happen to be allied with the Separatists and are here to stir up trouble among the Mandalorian people?”

“I assure you, Your Grace-”

“Are you aware of what I am accusing you of, Viceroy,” Satine asked, a harsh edge to her voice, “will you answer my questions?”

Gunray sneered, “The Mandalorians are a peaceful people.”

“But we do not take kindly to nefarious acts that brew discord in our system,” Satine countered, “you can be sure Mandalore’s heritage is still dear to many of us.”

“You would not risk war.” the Viceroy stated.

“With who,” Satine questioned, “the Trading Federation? You have no army of your own.”

“No,” Gunray narrowed his eyes, “but Count Dooku-”

“Is courting me,” the Duchess interjected, “so, you see, I have nothing to lose if you’re threatening me with people whom I curry favor.”

Boba Fett cracked his knuckles.

The Viceroy frowned, “You can’t keep me here.”

“I can keep you as long as I want,” Satine raised an eyebrow, “but if you are friendly with the Separatists, perhaps you would like to explain that to the Republic Senate?”

“You couldn’t-”

Satine pressed her comm and a small form of Padme appeared.

“Senator Amidala?”

Padme turned.

“I hate to bother you, Padme, you do look quite busy,” Satine began, “but Viceroy Gunray has been sneaking around Mandalore on the word and protection of Separatists, and I think you’d like to talk to him.”

Padme frowned and turned to face the Viceroy, “Yes, I most certainly would, although perhaps this should be done with more Senators present.”

The Duchess nodded, “I will schedule a meeting.”

Satine turned to Mara and nodded, she curtsied and went off.

“Friends with criminals,” Gunray observed, “your reputation clearly needs revisiting, Duchess.”

“Apparently,” Satine countered, “so does yours.”

With that, she beckoned to Boba Fett and left.

“Any other important ones?” Satine asked.

“A few,” the bounty Hunter nodded, “your guards and I will question them.”

“Thank you,” the Duchess nodded, “and do look after Mara for me.”

Boba Fett’s eyes narrowed, “She has a pin, you know, with your house colors on it.”

Satine only nodded.

“I work with your sister-in-law,” Boba added, “she’d love to meet you.”

The Duchess smirked, “Tell her to learn some manners first.”

Parna met Satine at the entrance to the dungeons.

“The meeting is scheduled,” she stated, bending to clean off the Duchess’ dress, “and the Count is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Parna.”

“Also,” the lady stood and lowered her voice, “the Jedi are sending an expedition team to Concordia.”

“Thank you,” the Duchess repeated, “I shall keep that in mind.”

Satine met the Count at the breakfast table, her full retinue already there to entertain him.

“Ah, Duchess,” Dooku smiled, “you look lovely.”

“Your Excellency is most kind,” Satine replied coolly.

The Count raised an eyebrow, “Still tired I imagine?”

It took everything Satine had in her not to reveal what she knew of his deceit.

“You make for a very trying guest, Your Excellency.”

A couple noblewomen around the table laughed. At that moment, Tyra and Hera entered, bearing platters of traditional Mandalorian cuisine along with other servants. Dooku’s eyes lingered on Tyra too long for her liking.

“I don’t believe I’ve met these ladies.” the Count observed.

“My maids,” Satine gestured, “Tyra and Hera.”

Both curtsied.

“So young.” Dooku added.

“Certainly you wouldn’t object to training the young early?” Satine asked, bitterness in her tone.

Count Dooku smiled, “I most certainly would not.”

And so, breakfast began. The older Countesses, Bralor, Eldar, and Saxon, made a point of judging Dooku openly.

“And what makes you think you are worthy of Mandalore, Your Excellency.” Countess Saxon had the audacity to ask.

Satine grinned.

The Count shrugged, “An ancient empire needs a modern one to ally with.”

Ursa Wren ground her teeth. Currently, she wasn’t talking to Satine since Sabine had been discovered as a spy and sent to a special school for rebellious children. The Duchess wasn’t pleased with the Count’s answer either, however, and decided to go on the offensive.

“At least the Republic’s army is alive.”

“Yes,” Dooku smirked into his soup, “alive.”

Satine made a mental note to ask Obi-Wan about that statement.

“I didn’t know you were friendly with the Master Jedi.”

The Duchess practically growled, “It is impolite to intrude on personal boundaries, Count, I suppose as you weren’t born nobility you wouldn’t know that.”

Dooku’s frown set deeper.

“Yara,” Satine smiled politely, “what do you think of my new sister-in-law?”

Countess Eldar grinned, “I should’ve known you’d heard.”

The Duchess gave a pleasant giggle, “Oh, I hear everything.”

“I think it’s quite like your sister to match herself like that.” Ursa commented.

“Very true,” Satine turned to the Count, “tell me of your former apprentice, Your Excellency, do you think we should invite her and my sister to court?”

Now it was the Count’s turn to grind his teeth, “I think that decision is best left up to Your Grace.”

Satine nodded, pretending like she didn’t already know this.

Lunch was finished, and the Duchess invited the Count on a stroll through the gardens, he accepted.

“Parna, Khaami,” she announced, “you will trail us.”

Satine made a point to focus on specifically Mandalorian details of the garden, then, seemingly out of nowhere, asked if it would be seen as a traditional alignment to support enemies of the Jedi.

Dooku actually smiled, “I think many would view it that way, yes.”

“But my people must choose,” Satine’s face darkened, “Padme and I agreed on that.”

“You did, did you?” the Count tilted his head.

Satine nodded, hoping he couldn’t hear her heartbeat. Was that a force user power?

“Well, I suppose you can be friends,” he sighed, “until we marry.”

“You presume to know me.” Satine snapped.

“I know you don’t care for me.”

The Duchess turned to look at the Count.

“Our union, however,” Dooku began, carefully choosing his words, “would be very beneficial.”

“You seem to think so.”

Count Dooku grabbed Satine’s arm, “I’ve seen them, no one has to know about your bastards that smell like Master Kenobi.”

The Duchess froze, her limbs cold.

“Ah yes, I know.”

Satine began to shake.

“Marry me and no one will know.” the Count offered.

“I’ll play my part,” Satine told Dooku, gritting her teeth, “but expect a long courtship.”

Count Dooku left early, he said it was business. It did, however, kiss Satine’s cheek upon departing, which caused quite the stir on Mandalore. Now, it was evening.

“He seems awful.” Korkie mused as the Duchess and her children waited.

“Terribly,” Mara agreed, “but he knows about our father.”

As she said this, Satine noticed a ship wading through the dark sky.

“What do you know, Tristan?” the Duchess asked, sensing his unease.

“Many of my classmates are slightly horrified, or aggressive.”

“He will have to prove himself ‘worthy of Mandalore’.” Tyra added.

The ship got closer, and Satine told Mara and Tristan to wait in her personal parlor.

“Lady Mother,” Korkie whispered, “I’m worried for you.”

“So am I.” Tyra agreed.

“Thank you, children,” Satine squeezed her children’s hands, “I appreciate your concern.”

Master Aayla Secura got off the ship and Satine counted herself surprised, then Ahsoka disembarked and the Duchess was put at ease.

“I wasn’t aware I would be having such distinguished guests.” Satine told Master Secura.

“After such a famous visitor you mean?” the Jedi questioned.

“I’m just glad he’s gone.” Satine replied honestly.

“Hey, Kork, whaddup?”

“The sky, Ahsoka,” Korkie smirked, “not that you would know that.”

The Padawan feigned offense, “Dear me, what a burn.”

Tyra snorted.

“Padawan Tyra,” Master Secura nodded, “you have been very helpful.”

“Wow really? That’s a first!”

Master Secura smirked, “I hope the Duchess appreciated your enthusiasm.”

“This Padawan is certainly a handful.”

“Master Vos would agree.”

Satine gave Obi-Wan a smile resplendent of the sun.

“And did he tell you as such?”

“I know her well enough.”

Aayla cleared her throat.

“Korkie, Tyra,” Satine turned, “be a good host and show our guests to their rooms.”

The Duchess watched happily as her children moved through the palace with ease, and she grinned to herself.

“Dead!”

Satine jumped. Out of the shadows slithered Asajj Ventress, with Bo-Katan behind her. The Duchess frowned.

“Interesting,” Ventress grinned, “I didn’t know you were Mrs. Kenobi.”

The Duchess opened her mouth to defend herself.

“Everybody knows now, Satine,” Bo-Katan waved dismissively, “after a moment like that I’m surprised there aren’t riots.”

Trying to suppress her blush, the Duchess asked if they planned to stay.

“We didn’t get a chance to capture the Count,” Ventress frowned, “he left early.”

“There was no time to-”

Ventress reached out and shoved Satine, who stumbled backwards onto the pavement.

“Excuses are useless with me,” the witch warned, “do not use them.”

Shocked, Satine remained on the floor.

“Get up, sister,” Bo-Katan huffed, “you look like a fish.”

“Satine!”

Suddenly, Obi-Wan was beside her.

“How-”

Reaching out with the force, Obi-Wan threw Ventress into a mass of sculpted hedges.

“Are you well, darling?” the Jedi asked, picking her up.

“Ben,” Satine blushed, “how heroic.”

“Ugh,” Bo-Katan spat on the ground, “spare me.”

“Your manners have worsened, Obi-Wan.” Ventress called.

“They may have,” Obi-Wan admitted, “but I thought matrilineal cultures praised women who just gave birth.”

A beat of silence.

“Satine,” Bo-Katan sighed, “no.”

“You’ll never see them, Bo,” Satine promised, “they won’t bother you.”

Ventress smirked, “A family man, Obi-Wan, how interesting.”

“I could say the same about you,” the Jedi countered, “you’re married.”

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow, “And you’re not?”

Satine looked down and blushed.

“Oh, sister,” Bo-Katan clapped, “you have bastards!”

“That’s not true,” Satine huffed, face still red, “my children are royalty.”

“How many children do you have?” Ventress asked after a pause.

Satine bit her lip.

“Six.” Obi-Wan answered.

Ventress’ jaw dropped.

“Oh, Satine,” Bo-Katan whined, “I thought you were better than that.”

The Duchess was about to answer when Tristan called down from above.

“The Jedi are asking for you, Lady Mother!”

Bo-Katan blanched, “Is that Tristan Wren?”

“I’ll be right up, Tristan!” Satine called.

Ventress clicked her tongue and shook her head.

Satine fluttered her eyelashes, “Carry me, Obi?”

“Of course, my angel.”

Bo-Katan groaned, but Satine paid her sister no mind. Instead, she squealed and grabbed onto Obi-Wan as he jumped impossibly high and landed on Satine’s balcony.

“Wow, Dad,” Mara snorted, “be more chivalrous will you?”

“That’s a big word, Mara.” Tristan teased.

“I learned it from Lady Mother’s library.”

Obi-Wan placed Satine down.

“Ben, this is Tristan, and this is Mara,” she gestured, “our second set of twins.”

The Jedi’s eyes glowed as he hugged both his children.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Sixteen now,” Tristan answered, “and I’m older than Mara.”

Mara huffed.

“Your Grace,” Jaym’s voice accompanied a knock, “the Jedi are asking for you.”

“I’ll be right out.” Satine promised.

The Duchess turned to her children.

“Behave yourselves.”

The twins looked at each other, then giggled. After an exaggerated sigh, Satine left to find Master Secura and Ahsoka.

The Padawan saw her first, “Momdalore!”

Satine smiled, “You all asked to see me.”

Master Secura shot Ahsoka a look.

“Remember your manners, Padawan.” Aayla frowned.

Ahsoka grinned, “Of course, Master Secura.”

“Duchess,” the Jedi Master turned, “we’re here to search for spyware or anything the Count might’ve left behind.”

“I’ll take you to where his quarters were,” Satine gestured, “although I don’t know what you’ll find.”

Satine sent Tyra and Korkie to her personal parlor while she allowed Aayla and Ahsoka to search.

“Be polite to your father.” the Duchess whispered.

Tyra winked.

“Momdalore,” Ahsoka piped up, crawling on the floor, “why didn’t you let Death Watch capture Count Dooku?”

“He left early,” Satine responded, “there was no time to warn my sister and have it not be suspicious.”

“He kissed your cheek.” Aayla pointed out.

“I was there,” Satine nodded, “I remember.”

Ahsoka snorted.

“Duchess Satine,” Master Secura, sighed, “the Council needs your assistance with a secret.”

The Duchess raised an eyebrow.

“Master Anakin Skywalker is married to Senator Padme Amidala.”

Satine laughed, she certainly wasn’t expecting to hear that. Even Ahsoka joined in.

“You knew?”

The Duchess hesitated, “Yes.”

“Your Grace,” Master Secura frowned, “this is a great offense against the Jedi code.”

“Senator Amidala is my friend, Master Jedi.” Satine countered.

Aayla nodded, “I understand, but I tell you this to warn you.”

The Duchess frowned, “Warm me?”

“Master Kenobi wants to leave the Jedi Order after the war,” Master Secura stated, “he confessed it was because he loved you.”

Ahsoka gasped, Satine had forgotten she was there. In a burst of emotion, the Duchess collapsed onto a chaise lounge with a sob and let tears of joy roll down her face.

“Oh, Momdalore,” Ahsoka stroked Satine’s head, “it’s alright.”

“Are you pleased?”

Trying to collect herself, Satine nodded.

“I advise Your Grace to be careful then,” Master Secura’s face softened, “it seems you’ve already picked your side.”

“Thank you,” Satine dabbed at her eyes, “Master Jedi.”

“Please,” the Jedi helped her up, “call me Aayla.”

Satine thanked Aayla and excused herself, when she arrived in her personal parlor, her children and their father were happily chatting, exchanging jokes and funny stories. Satine paused for a moment to admire the beauty of the scene, it was really all she’d ever wanted.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan smiled, “come in.”

The Duchess tripped as she made her way to Obi-Wan, who caught her in his arms.

“I knew you loved me.”

“If six children didn’t tell you that,” Satine grinned, lifting her head, “I don’t know what will.”

Obi-Wan scooped up the Duchess and placed her in his lap.

“Now, tell me children-”

At that moment, Bo-Katan and Ventress appeared on the balcony. Obi-Wan growled, Satine put a hand to his chest to hush him. Bo-Katan gaped.

“Wow, Obi-Wan,” Ventress remarked, “you have quite a large amount of offspring, but there only seems to be four of six.”

Bo-Katan recovered her senses, “Satine, are you out of your mind!”

“Bo-”

“A Jedi,” her sister asked, “I mean, I knew you hated tradition, but really?”

“Bo-”

“I’m not done,” Bo-Katan announced, “what would our parents say?”

“To be fair,” Obi-Wan interjected, “your parents were the ones who requested Jedi protection all those years ago.”

Bo-Katan blinked, “Oh, as if that’s an excuse.”

“I didn’t know the Duke of Sundari was yours though, Obi-Wan,” Ventress grinned, “a real fan of monarchies are you?”

Satine flinched.

“You lied,” Bo-Katan frowned, “you created a false brother and sullied our father’s name to hide your own transgressions, you lied?”

“Bo,” Satine held up her hands, “I can explain.”

“What is there to explain-”

“Bo-”

The door burst open and Gorg ran in with Jaym. Satine clamored out of her Jedi’s arms.

“Escort them out,” Satine ordered.

Bo-Katan snarled, “We’re not done here.”

Mara stood, “How dare you speak to my mother like that.”

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow.

“It’s awfully rude of you.” Tyra agreed, assuming a fighting stance.

Ventress tensed.

“The Duchess of Mandalore should be treated with respect.” Tristan added.

Bo-Katan turned to Korkie.

“I’m sorry, Auntie Bo,” he stood, “but what my Lady Mother did was right.”

At this time, Ahsoka and Aayla appeared in the doorway with Jaym,

“Ventress,” Obi-Wan stood, hands out, “I suggest you follow the Duchess’ orders.”

Bo-Katan was fuming.

“Come on, Babe,” Ventress growled, “we should teach these self entitled brats a lesson.”

“It’s a foolish fight,” Bo-Katan glared at Satine, “you can’t fight someone who cheats, we’ll get them later.”

“Bo,” the Duchess begged, “you will get a chance to capture him.”

“You lie.” her sister spat.

“No,” Ventress stated, everyone paused, “he’s proposed to you.”

Obi-Wan turned to her, Satine swallowed.

“I’ve accepted.”

Pandemonium erupted. Bo-Katan lunged at Satine, but Tyra threw her out of the way. Ventress then ignited her lightsaber, but so did Obi-Wan.

“What is this?”

Satine, who had stumbled backward, stood to face Master Secura.

“There is much to discuss,” the Duchess stated, “but my sister and her wife decided to pay us a visit.”

Ventress snarled.

“We were just leaving,” Bo-Katan announced, “tell us when the wedding is.”

#obitine #Duchess Satine #satine kryze #satine x obiwan #obi wan kenobi #obiwan #korkie kenobi #korkie kryze #Bo-Katan Kryze #asajj ventress

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gh0sts-oc-hell · 2 years

Text

Funky little blurb with Soot and Wren Wren is an OC that belongs to my right hand man, @/gummyworm-coffin!!

Night time. Such a quiet and serene time. The gentle hum of wings of the crystal flys that surround Dawn Winery. Lifting a hand Soot gently knocked a curled knuckle to one drifting by her head. A gentle ring echoing to the clouds as she did. It seemed the clouds became beckoned to the sound, the starry and dark sky above her slowly being covered as greying of clouds rolled in. Mond hadn’t had rainfall in about a week, a rather rare occurrence for the city.

Bare feet in the grass, the greenery tickling her feet as the winds of Barbatos blew throughout the cliffs she headed for. Screw it, she broke out into a run. Face still a bit puffy and red, yet a small smile broke out on her face, a fang poking out of her top lip, nicking their bottom lip. Her tail trailing behind her, curling and flicking; her ears back on her head, sensitive to the blowing winds yet used to it. She came to a stop as she reached her destination, the cliffs that sat between Dawn Winery and Springvale. Slowing to a walk as sje wanderer to the cliff side, tail curled into itself and up to her back as a tremor took over her body. Blaming it on a shiver as she was only in her pajamas, one of Diluc’s old shirts; a loose black clothed shirt. It had a deep V cut for the neck, however she was smaller than he was so it ended up being loose at the edges of her shoulders. It had a couple strings in the middle where the point of the V landed on her chest, the strings threaded between each side of the cloth. A pair of shorts she threw on right before she ran out the door laying loose on her hips, black with white stripes. She had her hair down as it naturally spiked out, her arms covered in a loose bandage and her eye and mouth gaps loose and open. The bandage kept on her leg still there but loose, the bandage she put on before bed loosened from her tousling. Her eyes were still puffy and only seemed to get worse the more she rubbed them. She knew he’d be here soon, she had freaking animal ears atop her head, twitching with each step her took, turning this and that at each puff of breath that left his lips. Calleum perhaps? No. He’d be moaning or complaining the whole time. Either that or hiding trying to sneak up on her. This was different, he either didn’t know she could hear him or knew and didn’t care, he wanted her to his steps. What she didn’t know was he didn’t want to spook her. It was obvious by her posture and the way she held herself as she sat; something had happened. Most likely linked with the appearance of a man in Mondstat. It seemed that anyone that knew her picked up on something off with her at the same time as the arrival of this man. Only few truly knew why, a reason why she had one of Diluc’s spare shirts on. A deep fear of being alone again, anything to make her feel like she wasn’t, a reminder that she would always have her older brother to protect her, how childish. He was standing right behind her now, a bit to the left. Soot’s tail gently uncoiled itself, the muscles once taught and tensed slowly began to relax as it stretched out and rested right at Wren’s ankle. The fluffy tail slowly wrapped around his ankle, loosely as it allowed the fluff covering it to tickle his feet. She sat cross legged, hands in the middle of the open area on the inside of the area her crossed legs created, one laying flats against the cool ground and gripping the grass as the other rested atop it, picking at her knuckles and rubbing and pinching her skin; a nervous habit he noticed a few months ago. She let go of the scarred skin pinched between her pointer and thumb and moved her hand to curl loosely around her wrist. He gently lifted his foot and untangled her tail from it so he could sit beside her. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her body gently flinching at the thunder overhead. “It’s awfully late for an adventure, simple stargazing like this would have sufficed on the roof of the Winery no?” A bump of the shoulder, yet she didn’t reciprocate. Everything was so fuzzy for her, heart thrumming in her ears. His voice was so warm, not quite cutting through the static, more of gently moving tides, the warm water washing it away. “Quite strange for you to be up at this hour, let alone out about eh?” She was trying so hard to cover it up. Dammit. It was terrible timing for him to show up, he knew, she knew he knew. “I needed some moon water and herbs from Liyue, I just got home and thought I’d grab some mint on the way home. You know the road to Liyue cuts through the Winery. You’ve always been a fast runner,

especially on all fours. How you switch from a raccoon to back so fast amazes me each time.” He was attempting to lighten the atmosphere, why? “Tanuki you imp.” She grumbled. He knew she hated when people mistook her for a raccoon, she didn’t go dumpster diving for hell’s sake!! “He was back, the other day I mean. I caught him wandering the city streets when I was heading to Kae’s office.” Hopefully one of these days the knights will find a reason to truly arrest him. As much as Kaeya despised the strange man, and no matter how much the other knights picked up on it and became wary or disdainful of him, there was no true evidence to lock him up. “I’m aware. I assumed which after I saw you run. It’s been happening again, isn’t it?” She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, her body slumping against his. Right ear flattened so as to not smack his face as her cheek squished into his shoulder. The thunder picked up as lightning cut through the sky, the wind whistling as it began to shake the trees behind them. Raindrops slowly falling onto both of them. “You know, at first I was terrified. I’m stronger than him, especially now compared to that of then. Hell, he probably doesn’t even remember me,” her left hand began to rub her left one and fingered the loose bandages, “ yet I can’t help but fear. What he could, what could happen, what all could go wrong, what if I end up back there? You know I’ve been thinking a lot, about it, about everything. The nightmares certainly don’t help.” Wren hummed, he put his arm across her back to her other shoulder and gently rubbed circles into it. “And if you were to end up back again?” A horrid thing to think about, yet not impossible. “I don’t think I’d fight to be honest. I wouldn’t look for him, I wouldn’t even draw my sword. To be honest? I’d let it kill me, I wouldn’t even fight back. If I find myself there again it must be deserved; fate discipling my soul, eternally damning it. I’m not the same ambitious little kid as I once was, I was stripped of everything and laid bare before things, monsters I wasn’t ready to face. I don’t think I ever will be. I can't go through that, won’t be able to handle it.” She mumbled the last, words slighting slurring and being muffled due to having her cheek squished on their shoulder. Her eye’s finally losing their spark. It clearly took a lot to admit it. Her eyes looked down bashfully, ashamed almost. For a moment he had to collect his words. She hated pity, he knew that, and he didn’t pity her. Perhaps that’s the reason she was able to say so much, always being able to tell him anything and everything. Humming he moved his hand to cup the back of her neck. Holding on a bit tighter as they knew she found pressure comforting. Rubbing their thumb in a circle on a point in her neck that always seemed to relax and calm her, and it proved right as she seemed to melt into him, slumping impossibly more into him. Ears drooping as her tail slowly came to a stop, he could feel it rest at his back. With his right hand he reached into his bag and grabbed a glass lamp. Entwining it into a strand of her hair, braiding a few locks around it. “We should head back Fritz, it’s really starting to pick up with the storm.” He was right, the rain was fully coming down as warm streams of water. Thunder seemed to constantly ring out in the sky and the grass they resided in would become slushy with mud soon. “Sleepover? You can stay in my room or one of the guest ones if you want.” He was at the Winery so much it became like a second home to him. Being the best friend to a Ragnvindr would entail such. He slowly moved up, a little tanuki curled up in his arms, tail popping out over his arms as a tired yet sharp tooth grin shined up at him. With a spring in his step they began to trek down the cliff. “Sleepover.”

#Genshin #gemshin OC #Diluc #diluc ragnvindr #gh0st.rambles #gh0st.txt #soot #soot akuji #wren #tw: death #tw death #tw hinted suicide

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littlegrrl7 · 3 years

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Reposting one of my favorite scenes from “Tiger and the Wren” in honor of his birthday!

“Tiger and the Wren” excerpt chapter 3

Shingen/OC

Drunken flirting

___

Her

“Do you find there are not enough balconies that you must take to the rooftops?”

Ren turned, surprised to see Shingen walking along the ridge of the roof toward her. He now sat in on her kunoichi classes regularly, but this was the first time he was seeking her out alone. She chuckled softly.

“Good evening, my Lord.” The day had been warm for fall, and that warmth still echoed off the tiled roof. Ren straddled the roof ridgeline in her sleeveless training top and loose hakama. She had been gazing at the stars, but now it seemed an even more handsome view was gracing her vision.

“May I join you, Ren? I’ve brought sake.”

She smirked, patting the spot next to her. “Drunkenness on a rooftop, what could possibly go wrong, my Lord?”

“Just Shingen tonight.” He passed her a small ceramic cup, she held it out, and he poured for her. Then poured one for himself. She sipped the sake; he brought the good stuff out. Briefly, she wondered what he was up to.

“It’s a beautiful night, I was just stargazing. The stars aren’t this clear where I’m from.” She settled back, enjoying the drink. He fished out a small bundle and laid it between them. It was full of sweets.

“And where might that be?” He took a sip gazing upward.

“Far away from here.” She glanced at him, “What about you? What brings you to my rooftop domain?”

“I saw a beautiful woman gazing longingly at the stars and figured she could use some company.”

He slid a little on the steep roof. Ren’s hand shot out, catching him by the forearm. She eyed him with concern. “Come, I’ll sit on your balcony if you like. You are too big for me to carry you off the roof.” Ren scooped up his offerings and extended her hand to him for balance. A few minutes later, they were on the balcony connected to his room, gazing up at an almost full moon.

She poured for him, then he took the flask and poured for her. Ren smiled, studying the handsome warlord. She didn’t think it possible, but he looked even more attractive by the cool light of the moon. Her eyes slid from him to his offering of pastries. She popped one into her mouth, enjoying the sweet burst of flavor, then washed it down with another sip of sake.

They sat and drank in silence for some time. Ren’s mind felt pleasantly numb. It was unusual that she drank, her occupation what it was. It was rare she could relax. She was giving herself tonight off. She was in a safe place, her Lord was safe, and she was off duty. She stood, swaying a bit to lean against the railing. She shivered in the crisp fall night, the sleeveless top no longer appropriate.

Shingen moved behind her, resting his arms on the rail, framing her body with his. His chest was a breath away from her back, heat radiating from him.

“Better? You looked cold.” His low baritone thrummed through her.

“Yea, you feel nice.” She finished off her cup and set it on the rail leaning back against him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, refilling her cup.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Shingen?” She laughed, taking another drink.

“It’s nice to see you relaxed, you are always so on duty.” His warm breath tickled along her neck.

“I’m not.” She grinned. This was delicious sake. He passed her another fruit topped pastry.

“You are.” His lips brushed her neck as he spoke. She wasn’t sure if it was accidental.

“Can I ask a personal question, my goddess?”

“Sure, if I can ask one in return?” A grin tugged at her lip.

He brought one hand up, feathering his fingers through her silky hair. “Why do you wear this glorious hair so short? In this light, it looks like it was spun from moonbeams and magic.”

“I’ve had to change my appearance often, wigs are easier to fit over short hair. People remember blonde hair too readily for me to easily blend in. In hand to hand combat, long hair is a vanity I can’t afford.” She took another sip. “My turn?”

He nodded, covering her hand on the railing warmly with his own.

“Why did you really come to the rooftop tonight?”

“The mystery of you fascinates me. My network of mitsumono can give me no information about your background, so I must come to the source. I like to know who I have in my employ, no matter how gifted she is.”

“So the sake is to loosen my tongue?” She teased.

“No, the sake was an expensive gift to me. I was saving it for a special occasion.”

“What might the occasion be?” Ren turned in his arms to face the warlord, it was a mistake. His stormy grey eyes reflected the moonlight hypnotizing her.

“I’m hoping for a new friendship.” Shingen leaned closer, the heat from his body pleasantly radiating over her skin.

“Just friendship?” She could feel the ghost of his breath on her lips, he slid past to whisper in her ear, his cheek gently brushing hers.

“You’ve gotten ahead of me on questions, little bird, I believe it’s my turn.” His warm baritone was making her melt.

“So, ask.” She let her breath tickle along his collarbone, her lips lightly brushed his neck. If he wanted to play seduction games, she’d dance that dance.

“Why is a woman as beautiful as you a Kunoichi? You could easily have any man you desired.” His inquiry was a whisper, warm lips traced along her ear. She closed the distance between them, pressing her lithe body to his.

“Perhaps I hadn’t found a man worth desiring until now.” She inhaled, breathing in his intoxicating scent, that sweet masculine musk that was solely him.

“Have you found a man you desire?” Shingen nuzzled the short silken hair behind her ear.

“Why are you still single as a warlord, as stunningly attractive as you are? Shouldn’t you be busy making heirs?” She purred, interested in seeing him squirm out of this answer.

He leaned back, studying her. “You don’t pull your punches.”

She finished her drink, “you started this game.” She let the desire fill her eyes, her fingertips traced his cheek. “What are you looking for, Shingen?”

Him

He studied her sharp features, the moonlight illuminated her skin, making it look pearlescent. Her eyes were amethysts. He came seeking her out with good sake, hoping to convince her to warm his bed tonight. What he found was an equal engaging him in a flirtatious dance of wits. He actually found it refreshingly intriguing. He gazed into her violet depths, getting lost in the desire he saw there.

“What are you looking for, Shingen?” Her fingertips were cool on his cheek.

What indeed?

He let out a low sensual chuckle and leaned back, letting the refreshing night air clear his head. Ren held her cup out to be refilled, she’d had quite a bit, he wondered at her tolerance. He poured, she smiled.

“Wait here.” He stepped into his room, fetching his haori and returned enfolding her in it warmly. She tilted her head curiously when he wrapped her in it. Then he sat down with his back against the wall, inviting her to join him. She slid down the wall next to him, her hip just brushing his own.

“You know, typically, my mitsumono are an information web. I can’t help but notice your training seems to be…more.”

She rolled her shoulders, taking another sip, her finger traced the rim of the cup.

“I do what I must to survive. I’ve always strived to be the best version of myself, and I take my duties seriously.”

“Is that what I am to you, a duty?” he gave her a smile that said he wanted to be more than that. A pretty blush rose on her cheeks.

“Well…no you, no job.” She raised her cup to him in a half salute and downed the contents.

“You do realize protection detail for me typically isn’t part of the job unless it’s assigned. I can handle myself.”

“Maybe I feel you are worth protecting.” She rested her cheek on her knees, gazing at him with slightly unfocused eyes.

“You barely know me. You’ve been here just over six months.” He countered, “and half that time, you were away on missions.”

“Bringing you back spectacularly detailed intel.” She slurred, holding her cup out. He grinned, filling it halfway.

“Indeed. About that-“ Shingen couldn’t keep the genuine smile off his face, Ren’s ear tips were red, she was adorable. He was finding this far more entertaining than a late-night screw.

“Hmmm?”

“How is it you know exactly what I’d be looking for? The precise details. Everything in your reports is what I would have been examining had I been present.”

“I am amazing, and you are welcome.” Her eyes were sliding half-closed, she leaned against him her head on his shoulder. “How about less work talk more sexy seducing? Because you are, by far, the hottest guy that has ever come on to me, and I’d like to enjoy this as long as I’m here.”

He put his arm around her with a chuckle, bringing her into the warmth of his side. Ren nuzzled sweetly against his chest. He kissed her forehead gently, noticing her eyes had slipped closed. He carefully took the cup from her relaxed hand, setting it on the ground.

“How about we just watch the moon and enjoy each other’s company,” Shingen said softly. Within minutes she was asleep against him.

Her

Ren woke, surrounded by Shingen’s scent. She sat up fast, alarmed. Her head felt like someone put an axe through it. Holy hell, what had she done? She was alone in the futon, his haori was still wrapped around her.

“Good morning, little bird.” Shingen glanced at her from his desk, he paused in his letter-writing long enough to give her a bemused smile.

She was in his bed.

Her face flamed red as she tried to recall the previous night. They were flirting and then… Did she sleep with him? She’d remember if she did …wouldn’t she? What the hell was in the sake? Wait…she was still dressed so-

Soft laughter interrupted her frenetic thoughts.

“Ren, my most beautiful blade, as fun as it would be to tease you… I simply tucked you into my bed for the night after you had a bit much to drink, and I slept on some cushions.”

She rolled her eyes falling back into the bed. “I’m so embarrassed, I’m sorry, my Lord.”

“My goddess, I had a lovely evening with you. If you’d ever like to grace me again with your heavenly favor, it would be welcome.” He let out a soft chuckle, “perhaps with less sake and more “sexy seducing” next time.”

OMG, I said that.

Ren wanted to crawl into a hole and “kervanish” as Sasuke would say.

“Well then, thank you for the loan of your bed.” She stood up, brushing herself off, trying to reclaim some of her dignity. Ren neatly folded his haori leaving it on his futon. “And the warm haori. I enjoyed your company as well. I should ahhh…go attend to my duties.”

Shingen tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile. “Have a good day, Ren.”

“You too, Shingen…um…my Lord.” She bowed awkwardly and left.

Read the whole story on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21712111/chapters/51789976

#Takeda Shingen #ikesen shingen #ikemen sengoku #HappyBirthdaySexywarlord

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jessiebanethedragon · 4 years

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Scuttle (2/?) Crosshair x reader

Part two warnings: mentions of death, death of loved one (sorry)

Crosshair quickly decides he likes the rain. It’s got a way of blending in so nicely with the rest of the planet that he thinks it would be bland without it.

“Anything?” Hunter asked into the comms, and various grunts and groans of ‘negative’ filled his ear. They’d landed in what looked like an abandoned house, it was situated in the branches of a very tall, and very old tree. How anyone would have managed to climb it was a mystery.

“How do we even know what we’re lookin’ for?” Wrecker grumbled as they rappelled down the enormous trunk.

“All we’ve got is that they answer to the name Wren apparently it’s some animal on this planet.” Hunter grumbled, looking over a tech, expecting a lengthy explanation of what exactly a ‘Wren’ was.

“Fairywren are small birds that live in typical families of small groups, they come in brilliant colours of purple and blue. Very rare in the galaxy, but common to this planet.” Tech immediately replied, as their feet crunched into the ground.

“Okay, Bad batch, let's make this quick.” The sergeant ordered before taking off into the undergrowth.

It had been hours and they were no closer to coming across anyone or anything that looked like a Fairywren. Keeping to the outskirts of a small town crosshair watches as a group of Trandoshan guards (from the look of their intense armour) patrolled the streets.

“What are they doing?” He thought aloud to himself, toothpick ever present in his mouth. His concentration broke when he heard someone laughing at him. A group of teenagers were sitting under a broken piece of metal.

“What does it look like, Laserbrain?” one of them sneered. “The trandoshans are only good for one thing. The hunt.” Crosshair doubled his pace.

You were running faster than you ever had before, and for longer than you thought was physically possible. Your one and only advantage was the extent of your knowledge of the forest paths. The guards would be faster and run longer, they had keener senses than any human, and you knew if they put out a warrant, anyone and everyone would turn you in. But you were so close. So, so close.

It was called the Night Lake by the locals, the canopy here was so dense no light illuminated the water below, giving the area a terrifying essence. But also ensured much needed privacy, and in this particular case, somewhere to hide. You threw yourself into the waters, letting the slightly chilly water envelop you. At least four of them had been on your tail and you knew more of them were waiting at the edge of the city, should you try and circle back.

You swam as deep as you could manage, before stilling in the water, suspended in perfect anxiety as you watched its surface for any movement. Flares began to light up the dark sky and the water below as they tried to clear the area for your whereabouts. Closing your eyes you prayed to anything listening for them not to find you.

Turns out. No one was listening.

Crosshair was sprinting in the forest, creatures disturbed by his arrival scattered in every direction. The Trandoshans had taken off moments before answering a call that he couldn't interpret. But his experience and intuition told him to follow.

It was then that he faltered and fell down the edge of a small but very muddy hill, being followed only by more water filled dirt that almost buried him. Cursing he pulled himself up, checking his whereabouts for signs of a trap.

“So small for such trouble.” Something hissed to his right, clearly unaware of the clone that had just tumbled into their presence. His eyes snapped forward, four Trandoshans sat at the edge of what was the largest and darkest lake Crosshair had ever seen.

“Shall we let her drown or yank her out ourselves?” One asked with a snicker.

“The general wants her alive, something about having fun while making an example.” The first one spoke again. “Right, enough is enough, Drisk get her out of there.” with a nod towards the water, Crosshair watched as the slimmest Trandoshan (who was probably still twice the size of the sniper) dove into the black waters. The ripples dissipated for a moment before the reptile emerged carrying a struggling young girl. She was sopping wet, and struggling and turning so much they had no choice but to dump her in the mud.

“Now, now little roach, don't run off.” The leader laughed as she started to claw her way through the mud, reaching down he grasped her ankle and yanked her into the arms of the other two reptilians. Crosshair lined up his rifle, he could take out the two grasping the girl and then worry about the leader after. He had the Trandoshans in his sight when his comm crackled to life again.

“Crosshair, you missed your check in time, you still out there?” it was Tech, curse him and his punctuality. Because now the other two huge beings were dragging him out of his hiding place.

“Well, would you take a look at this. A clone!” Crosshair was forced to his knees in front of the leader as it spat at him.

“Crosshair! Come in!” Tech shouted into the helmet, thus resulting in it’s not-so gentle removal from Crosshairs head. He watched as Tech’s voice faded away as the bucket rolled into the lake.

“Now that the rude interruption is gone, you wanna tell us whatcha up to in these parts?” he said kneeling down and meeting his newest captive eye to eye.

“Bird watching.” Crosshair deadpanned. Really not feeling in a chatty mood at that present moment.

“Really?” the reptile hummed in thought, pretending to actually believe his answer. “Have you seen any birds yet?”

“No.” Crosshair told him with a smile, “Saw some Bantha-shit - looking lizards though.”He didn't see the flying fist coming, but he sure as hell felt it.

You clamp you both of your hands over your mouth. Hard. in the smallest attempt to muffle your screams. You can't tell the difference from lake water, rain water, and tears. But you know you’re wailing at an unforgiving volume. Your mother's blank eyes stare at you. A single blaster to the head. Your father, you got a blaster to the face is now unrecognizable. You don’t know which is worse. Krexx didn't even bother to keep you restrained, knowing that the horror of what he made you witness would be enough to paralyze you into compliance. The sound of conflict falls on deaf ears as you continue to shriek from your converter of what once was the family home.

The Clone, whose name you either didn't know or couldn't remember, was cuffed to one of the ceiling's support beams by a pair of binders, only just coming to a hit to the head like that will do you in. you watch him lift his head with a groan, the tattoo on his face covered by layers of mud. He starts pulling at the binders before his eyes meet the figure in the corner.

You’re curled in a fetal position, still screaming bloody murder into your hands. And barely, Crosshair sees that the fingerless gloves you wear are embroidered with a bird. A bright blue bird.

“Wren.” He grunted out, the pieces all coming together as his brain shakes the fuzz away. You don't move. “Wren!” he shouts over your tears. And you fall into more of a silent sob, looking over at him. “I need you to get these off of me.” he gestures to the binders with a shake of his hands. You recoil in the corner and shake your head, your cries are picking up volume again.

“Wren, please” Crosshair all but begs. The sound of battle is getting closer and closer. “I need you to uncuff me.” His voice barely registers in your brain. You know you have to move but you feel like you physically can't. There’s no fight or flight left in you, and it appears your entire system has short circuited as a result.

“We are both going to die if you don’t get me out of these kriffin’ binders!” Crosshair renewed his struggles as he shouts at you. But one look at you says that would be a preferable outcome for your current state. So, he switches tactics and tries to remember everything Tech has ever told him about shock and trauma.

“Wren,” he tries once again, softer this time. “I can help you, I can help you out of this. But I can't do that if you don't get these off of me.” Your eyes meet his. ‘Progress’ he thinks. You don't know how you do it, but you try to stand.

“Just keep looking at me, okay?” The clone who you don't know speaks again, and your eyes meet his. You stare not into his eyes, more like past them. You're not focusing on anything you're just taking one step after another until you reach where he’s awkwardly strewn up.

“There's a release button on the-” He starts to tell you, but you're already reaching up with shaky hands and fumbling around until they drop to the floor with a horrible clank. Immediately Crosshair jumps into action checking by each window and door and gathering all he can in terms of intel.

“We need to move, before anyone-” He trails off again when he’s seen that you’ve slid down the wall that he was against. Curling back into a ball. Slowly, he approaches you. He knows the protocol for a clone with shock, but what you're going through looks completely different all together. And Crosshair, well, let's just say there was never any training for caring for a civilian girl whose entire life just got destroyed.

“My name is Crosshair.” He whispers to you, crouching down to our height. You look at him with wide eyes. “Is it okay if I carry you to a safer spot?” You nod in response fumbling with your arms to lock them around his tall frame. His strength surprises you, as he lifts you with relative ease. And slowly the adrenaline wears off and you sink into his arms, vaguely you feel him pull your head into his shoulder the blasts sound deafening now as he runs through the uproar caused by the execution of an innocent family. Your family. Crosshair tells himself he pulls you closer so that you are not recognized. And that he does it so you don't have to see that carnage. But mostly he does it in hopes that you feel just a little more safe, and a little more calm in his arms.

tags: @mangoberry43

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wrcns · 3 years

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↪ introduction to wren d’ansembourg.

BASICS

full name: wren marcel d’ansembourg. nickname(s): vtáčik ( ‘little bird’ in slovak, used exclusively by his fiancé tomas ). age: twenty-five. date of birth: 3 june 1995. zodiac sign: gemini. place of birth: luxembourg city, luxembourg. ethnicity: white. nationality: luxembourger. gender: cis male. sexual orientation: homosexual. romantic orientation: homoromantic. religion: roman catholic, though wren isn’t the most diligent catholic ( re: he hasn’t done anything religious of his own volition in years ). occupation: when he isn’t running amok around his home in luxembourg trying and failing to do his royal duties, he’s an artist -- a painter, more specifically. language(s) spoken: luxembourgish, french, german, english ( all fluently ). slovak ( not fluently, at this point the best he can do is string together his favorite swear words to make tomas laugh ). accent: his accent is extremely reminiscent of a german accent, though he’s been told it’s softer than the average german accent -- when he’s speaking english, that is. he’s been told his accents in french and german are negligible and difficult to notice -- especially at the pace he usually speaks ( i.e. - wren has never said anything slowly in his twenty-five years of living and doesn’t plan to START ).

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

face claim: maxence danet-fauvel. hair color: brown. eye color: blue. height: 180.34 cm ( 5′11″ ). weight: 83 kg ( 183 lbs ). build: lanky, athletic. tattoos: he has a tattoo of a wren on his left forearm ( here ) ; to date he doesn’t have any other tattoos but he’s constantly doodling things he’d be perfectly willing to get tattooed on himself - tomas has, so far, urged him to think about it a bit more. piercings: he has three piercings in his right ear -- he wears a ring in the lowest one and studs in the upper pair. distinguishing characteristics: his height, the fact that he always looks like he needs about six months more sleep at any given moment, the way he talks with his hands, the way he dresses.

PERSONALITY

label: the odd duck. positive traits: capable, clever, compassionate, considerate, creative, curious, daring, dedicated, earnest, empathetic, generous, independent, loyal, observant, passionate, protective, reliable, selfless, warm. negative traits: competitive, irreverent, sarcastic, self-conscious. aloof, anxious, crude, haughty, hedonistic, impulsive, timid, weird. goals/desires: wren’s admittedly very excited to get married when the time comes, to continue living his life as happily as possible even within the protection program. fears: genuinely doing anything to disappoint or hurt his family, losing his siblings or tomas. hobbies: painting, driving his siblings absolutely nuts, dreaming up new pranks to pull on his friends and family, doodling ( on clothes, skin, actual paper - wren’s not picky ), chatting with reporters about nonsense things, going on twitter rants about the dumbest things, spending time with his family ( occasionally ), cuddling with tomas, exploring whatever city he happens to be living in as thoroughly as possible, playing soccer, learning how to make films ( god forbid anyone let this man hang onto a camera for a significant length of time ), looking at memes until his eyes hurt. quirks: most of his sense of humor is based on memes, he almost always has paint smudges on his hands no matter what he’s doing, he’ll switch between languages when he’s talking without thinking-- especially if he’s speaking english and forgets phrases he’ll try and figure out what they are in the other languages he knows and go from there, he can come off pretty aloof but he’s a genuinely social person -- he just tends to be too-tired on any given day to be really over-zealous. likes: visiting museums when he has the attention span, painting, planning pranks, learning new skills, playing music ( his guitar skills aren’t all that bad and he genuinely enjoys practicing ), mystery novels, memes -- especially if they’re brand new to him, pestering luca, spending time with tomas, planning dates when he’s in the mood, watching documentaries on super obscure subjects, collecting mismatched socks, hanging out with regular people, collecting art supplies, energy drinks, coffee, good beer, good food, flustering tomas. dislikes: having to be involved in political matters of any kind, most hard liquor, not being taken seriously when he wants to be, people who take themselves too seriously, france, having to be serious for any length of time usually, anyone who fucks with his family.

FAMILY

father: emile albert james d’ansembourg. mother: adélaide marie d’ansembourg. sibling(s): luca phillipe gabriel d’ansembourg, wendy juliette d’ansembourg, lara jeanne d’ansembourg. pet(s): he doesn’t have any pets at the moment. financial status: too rich for his own good.

RELEVANT INFORMATION

PERSONALITY —

Wren is, first and foremost, a genuinely odd person -- or so he’s been told for the length of his life at present; it’s a title he accepts with the utmost pride and he’s the first person to admit that he’d rather be known as odd than known for anything else. He can be loud and abrasive-- opinionated in ways that would likely get him into more trouble were he not royalty but could likely get him into sticky situations he isn’t even vaguely prepared for as time goes by. He isn’t always nice in any traditional sense -- he has no problem telling people what he thinks of them, will rip them to metaphorical shreds with a broad smile on his face and be that much happier for it. He obsesses over miscellaneous things to an inane degree -- he’ll worry about how mismatched he can get his socks to be for over an hour on any given afternoon and turn around to obsess over any given style of art he’s currently fascinated with depending on the day. Wren is also one of the most loyal people in the world -- at least where his family and loved ones are concerned; essentially, when someone takes the time to get to know him and Wren understands that they love and appreciate him in a way that he needs ( whether he’ll admit it or not ) then he would do anything in the world for them the moment they need him and he tries -- on occasion and not always successfully -- to make that clear to those he thinks need to understand it.

RELEVANT BACKGROUND —

Wren has never been what anyone would label ‘a typical prince’ -- he’d likely be the first person to question what a typical prince was supposed to be and why would it be so terrible if he wasn’t fitting a mold that, in his mind, had been outdated for hundreds of years? A prince in title and status but perhaps not at heart — the inner workings of palace life never interested Wren unless he needed to be aware of them to pull off some halfcocked prank or another on a whim. To those who knew him in the palace he was a troublemaker on his best days and that suited him far better than being the dutiful youngest son that he was convinced no one believed he could be even if he’d had the desire to begin with.

In his mind, there was no sense in forcing himself to be a shell of the person he hoped to be and if that meant that he was seen as bizarre or odd or too “other” to be taken seriously, well, that was something Wren - by his teenage years - had come to accept rather happily. He was much more at home tucked away in his room with his face inches away from his laptop screen going down some internet rabbit hole or another -- his obsessions were long lasting, his hyperfixations even more so and it was never quite a surprise to anyone when he would emerge from his room looking as though he hadn’t slept in days but perfectly ready to talk anyone’s ear off about whatever subject had caught his attention for the time being.

As he got older he tried to strike a balance between embracing all of his hobbies and relationships outside of being a prince and making at least half an effort, even if it was a poor one, at being a “proper prince”. It wasn’t something he was gifted at -- politics of most sorts tended to give him a headache on his good days and he could waste breath on arguments for hours simply to have advisors admit that he was right in the long run -- something Wren would enjoy deeply simply for the satisfaction of it all. He wasn’t the sort of prince anyone would look to to guide a country and he was thankful, consistently, that it wasn’t his responsibility in the long run to do so. It was almost an accident -- too good to be true, in his mind -- when he met someone at a political function and bonded with them and when he met his current boyfriend it was exactly the way he felt.

He wasn’t always the sort of man anyone would look twice at or pay attention to for more than a wild story or acerbic quip but things were different from the moment they met and Wren found himself struck by the feeling of being seen in a way he felt so rarely that it was, in essence, a connection he couldn’t ignore. He half-expected their relationship to fizzle out as they got to know one another more deeply -- perpetually concerned that he would ultimately be too weird for anyone to take seriously where a long term relationship was concerned but as time went on and the world seemed to fracture around them one of the few things Wren had to cling to was his relationship with the man he loved. Politics became a subject Wren abhorred that much more as alliances formed and their countries were not overtly friendly or directly allied and Wren’s stress over their relationship ending because of him shifted to a deep concern that their relationship might end whether they wanted that or not. It terrified Wren in a way he’d never felt prior and in a fit of something just short of desperation he proposed in the hopes that nothing in the world would ultimately drive them apart.

HEADCANONS —

— Wren has been out-- to both his family and close friends-- as gay since he was fourteen years old. It’s never been something he stresses about or something he feels the need to hide in any concrete way but he’s certainly not the sort of person to go yelling about his various ex-boyfriends or flings to the world at large. Where extremely personal matters are concerned Wren can be intensely private, though that need for privacy can, on occasion, be cast aside in his mind in favor of pulling off a particularly glorious prank or giving the media some piece of insane half-truth to froth at the mouth over which he’s found nothing short of delightful to play with in his adulthood.

— In the grand scheme of interests he has, art is paramount. It’s one of the only things Wren has ever been interested enough in to study properly and arguing his case to be allowed to attend art school in earnest is something he’s extremely proud of having accomplished. Painting, sketching, sculpting, photography -- art of almost any sort is enough to catch and hold Wren’s attention but painting is usually his go-to form of practicing where his own art is concerned, as the materials are usually far easier to come by when he’s traveling or in this case when he’s going to be essentially in protective custody for the foreseeable future.

— Wren and his boyfriend -- now fiancé -- have been dating for going on three years and Wren is as in love with him now as he feels like he always has been. He feels he can be most earnestly himself around his partner and takes advantage of that at every turn -- occasionally in the form of staging elaborate but ultimately harmless and loving pranks on him simply to give himself something to do and relieve any tension either of them happen to be carrying. Their relationship is an easy one and even with the political tension in the world that brought their engagement to bear -- it’s still perhaps the most settled and at ease with his choices Wren has ever felt in his life.

#hshqintro #( introduction )#The Boy™

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