#the cliff ends abruptly and subtly

[mrpenguinpants]

Razor:  Jealous HCs

Hey anon!! As much frustration I hold for crippling oblivious couples, I also love the trope so much. Plus I adore Razor. Even though I try to not call Razor a dog, I still google “jealous dog traits”. Also, I found out both Hanniejji and I secretly HCs Bennet is friends with Razor and Fischl. If genshin won’t give me character interactions then I’ll write it myself.

---

Semi Part 1: General HCs

Semi Part 2: Pre-Relationship HCs

Semi Part 3: Cuddle HCs

[Masterlist]

---

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

 @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact @morthecreator @ aanne2601 @hanniejji​

Razor:  Jealous HCs

Bennet and Fischl are both foaming at the mouth at how deeply in love you BOTH are and yet you’re both equally blind. Fischl wants to grab you by the shoulders and yell at you that Razor returns your feelings and you need to stop doing whatever it is you’re doing. A sad Razor looks like a kicked puppy and even she can’t handle it. But Razor absolutely refuses for anyone to confess for him because he believes that you might just genuinely be uninterested in him. Plus, it wouldn’t feel right if he couldn’t confess himself. It’s his first love, this is important to him.

Bennet thinks it’s really sweet that his friend is in love. Even if he does get a bit pouty that whenever he get’s hurt, Razor will ask if he’s alright and leave it at that. But if you accidently trip Razor is already at your side and fussing over you. Bennet uses this as physical proof that yes, your feelings are returned and this man is in love with you, but you always brush it off as Razor’s nature to be caring. He’s smiling patiently on the outside but on the inside he has his hands in his hair and he’s screaming.

God forbid anything upsets you. Razor hasn’t been around other humans long enough to pick up on most social cues but he does have a good sense of smell. If you’re happy then the wind smells like sweet flowers. If you’re upset then it smells like mint. While Razor usually keeps himself in check and is somewhat indifferent, the second he catches any signs of distress from you he’s on high alert. Until you tell him what’s been bothering you - a group of hilichurls stole your bag of snapdragon flowers - he’s going to be on guard and stressed out. He’s already throwing his claymore over his shoulder to go and fight the monsters that tried to upset you. Wow, what a good friend you say to Fischl. Fischl is ready to punt you off a cliff.  

Razor tries his best to show that he likes you by bringing the things you need and looking like such a proud pup. He looks at you with such hopeful eyes that it takes you a second to register what he’s asking before you feel your own heart rate speed up and pound into your ears. You flush pink before you move to embrace him and ruffle his hair as praise as he nuzzles into your shoulder affectionally. You assume his affectious actions are apart of his wolf nature and how they act so you try not to read too deep into things. Even if Razor seems a bit too happy to be hugging you and receiving pets. Or the fact he doesn’t let anyone else pet him...

Bennet tries his best to help his friend out by giving Razor some advice but considering Bennet himself hasn’t been in a relationship yet, it’s all practical. Telling Razor that he’s seen couples bring each other flowers as a sign of affection, maybe Razor could find some plants to bring you? It ends horribly when he offers you a wolfhook and you just stare at him. He says that these are his feelings towards you but you’re just...so confused?? Wolfhooks have thorns so does that mean he thinks you’re clingy? Isn’t that a bad thing? Are you annoying to him?? But wolfhooks also symbolize wolves so is he saying you’re like family to him??? You’re internally screaming while debating if you just got family-zoned or if Razor is trying to subtly tell you that he doesn’t like you.

Just because Razor is, somehow, unsure if you actually like him or not. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t get incredibly jealous and possessive at any unknown presence. He’s still a bit wary of the City due to all the conflicting smells and noises but he can’t help but look so sad when you have to run errands and you can’t visit him. But when you mention that a really nice knight gifted you a flower does Razor see red. He gave you a flower?? Shouldn’t you be happy with his? Why do you need another one when you have his? Is his gift not good enough? Is this your way of saying you’re interested in someone else? This poor boy is on the verge of either running off to go sulk or find the man that gave you this flower, which up until his knowledge - courtesy of Bennet - is a sign of courting, and absolutely destroy him to prove he’s the better partner.

He tries to keep it under wraps since he's been told that while in the City, he needs to exercise restrain and understand that if he enters. He's expected to at least respect the laws and people. But this poor wolf is so feral over this new development and this new smell that's been clinging onto you that whatever worries and isolation issues Razor felt about the city flies out the window as his protective instincts kick into overdrive. He sees other people and even pets as a rival for your attention and love. He just wants to scoop you up and growl at everything as a message to say “this is mine, go get your own”.

Even when the both of you are far away from the city, Razor’s continued mood seems to hang heavy over both your heads. You’re not sure what exactly caused Razor to be on high alert. He’s snapping and growling at everything little thing that comes close, even a butterfly!

You abruptly stop walking to Razor’s surprise as you whip around and frown at him. He can feel a chill run up his spine as he stands perfectly straight as you study him before you hold your palm out and looked at him expectantly. He looks at your hand with a small spark of perked attention before his nose twitches and he goes back to sulking. You’re still waiting for him as he shuffles a bit, his hair that resembled a wolf ear is twitching, before he whines and trots over and places his chin on your palm. He’s looking up at you with the most kicked puppy expression and you don’t even know what you did but you feel like the worse person in all of Teyvat.

“Razor...what’s gotten into you?” you ask gently as you rub circles into his cheek as he nuzzles into your palm. He seems really conflicted as his eyes dart away from your face and he almost looks guilty. He just whines and turns and buries his face into your warm palm. You’ve never really seen him like that before as you awkwardly try and comfort him. Until the same flower slips out of your pocket and you hear something primal growl out of Razor. His teeth are pulled back and he snarls at the flower as his pupils dilate. You quickly get between him and the poor flower before Razor tries to do anything.

“Seriously Razor, what’s gotten into you?” you asked concerned. He quickly shifts his attention to you as he pounces and knocks you over. You left off a soft noise as the wind get’s knocked out of you but you peep when his hands cage you from above. Razor’s red eyes bore into yours and you’re suddenly thinking the air is getting too hot. 

“Do you like Razor?” he asks, tilting his head in a cute pout. It makes you internally coo before you quickly snap out of it. Stay focused! 

“Of course I do! Remember we talked about this?” you say as you remember back to your previous interactions but this only seems to frustrate Razor more.

“No. Not that like. More...” Razor struggles with his words as he tries to piece together the right string of sounds to try and convey what he’s feeling. He seems so conflicted that it breaks your heart a bit. So you reach up and gently rub behind his ear as he closes his eyes and relaxes. He breathes in deeply as his eyes open and his pupils return to normal, but vastly determined.

“Together. Always. Just...us,” Razor says softly as he looks at you hopefully. There’s a small pink dust to his cheeks as his fang digs into his lip in nervousness. You’re not sure why but your heart absolutely sky rockets at it and you can feel your face flush pink.

“Um, yes?” you nod along, you think you’re understanding what he’s trying to say. Maybe he was just upset you were spending so much time in the City and away from him that he felt your friendship was neglected? That would make you really upset. But the way he phrases his words makes you believe that perhaps...

Before you can think more on it. Razor’s face breaks into a grin that nearly blinds you from the pure affection that sprouts from it. He’s already hugging you harder as he starts rubbing his nose and cheek against your neck. Making soft and happy sounds as he nuzzles you. He’s never done that before but you assume he’s just so happy. You breath a sigh of relief that it appears that your message to him was clear enough.

Yeah of course, friends always, you think

Lupical. Partner. Mate, Razor thinks.

---

whistling as I pretend I don’t see your stares. Yeah ik but it’s ok. This is a sorta semi series. We’ll build upon it. But Xiao content is next lol. I’m taking inspiration from this. I mean, when I don’t feel like shit 😷

I’ve been listening to [  Softy - Dear Moon ]. This isn’t the usual kind of music I listen to but it came on shuffle and this is now my mental breakdown song.

Quick edit: Turns out this is an ost from “My Mister”. I’ve never been into kdramas (I think I’ve only seen goblin, she was pretty, and Hwarang) but the cover picture looks so upsetting? My friend is really into tgcf and I believe that had a live action as well. 

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin razor #genshin impact razor #genshin razor x reader #genshin impact razor x reader #razor x reader #razor #razor x aether #razor x lumine #razor headcanons

[archived-kin]

you are hopelessly in love with one (1) librarian

note from kin: i’m (kinda) back baby!!!!!

i thought i’d start with something for myself to get back into the ~groove~ so i chose lisa since i love her so much

in this one you’re venti’s accompanist bard buddy and play the flute! whether or not you’re a vision-holder isn’t mentioned but i like to imagine that venti gives you an anemo vision after the two of you bond as fellow musicians (though of course you don’t know it’s him who gave you it, you basically just woke up one night after a performance and found it in your pocket)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lisa, kaeya, venti, razor

pairing(s): lisa/reader (+ some wholesome best friend venti content)

warning(s): none!

genre: fluff

“She’s so pretty,” You groan into the table. “I’m going to die.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” Kaeya replies through a mouthful of hash brown. “Your bard friends would be rather sad without their favourite Buoyant Balladeer.”

“What difference is it going to make?” You raise your head and stare at him with soulless eyes. “My life has no meaning anyway.”

“Oh, now you’re just being dramatic.” Kaeya slaps your shoulder so hard that you swear you feel your bones dislocate. “Cheer up.”

You groan, but sit up and take the hash brown he offers you anyway. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” He responds, already shoving another one into his mouth and beginning to chew.

You let out a heavy sigh and begin to nibble miserably on your own hash brown. “Sorry about all this. I probably sound like an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” He reaches over and gives your hair a playful ruffle. “And you don’t sound like an idiot. Lisa’s a very beautiful lady, after all.”

You raise your head in a snap, glaring at your friend through narrow eyes. “Hey, watch it.”

“I’m uninterested, not blind. Calm down.” He flicks you in the head with a chuckle. Raising his eyes to the sky, he gives a content sigh, as if the sun that he appears to be staring directly into isn’t burning his eye. “You know, a sky like this really calls for a nice glass of dandelion wine…”

“You have beyond enough problems to deal with right now without becoming a day drinker as well,” You shoot back. “Don’t you still have a report to file about those Treasure Hoarders over in Windrise?”

“Oh, that’s taken care of,” He says dismissively, taking a sip from his cup of water. “All dealt with.”

“Careful, Mr Kaeya,” comes a familiar honey-sweet voice from somewhere behind you, and you immediately tense. “Lying is a sin.”

“Miss Lisa!” laughs your blue-haired companion as the librarian pulls up a seat at your table, leaning forward and resting her chin on a single gloved hand. It’s an innocent motion by all means, but it still makes your heart skip a beat. “So kind of you to join us. What brings you here?”

“I simply saw two familiar faces while out on a stroll,” She smiles, stealing Kaeya’s mug and taking a sip of his Wolfhook juice. “How have we all been doing?”

“I-I’m doing great,” You quickly reply as her eyes land on you, unable to form a more intelligent response under her clear green-eyed gaze.

Much better now that you’re here, you add silently as she turns her attention to Kaeya, sliding his mug back over to him with such ease that you get the impression she does this a lot.

Kaeya himself either hasn’t noticed Lisa stealing his drink or doesn’t care, since he promptly curls his fingers back around the tankard and takes a long drink without any indication that he’s noticed anything out of the norm.

“Craving some wine, but I suppose I’m fine,” He sighs, tilting his head slightly to the side and swirling the contents of his mug around. “[Name] here says I shouldn’t be drinking during daylight.”

“And [Name] is very right,” Lisa shakes her head, the little rose accessory on the end of her hat tinkling with the motion. You can’t help but silently compare the sound to the ringing of heaven’s bells. Curse your stupidly romantic heart. “You drink more than enough in the evenings.”

“Then what of you?” Kaeya counters, smirking playfully. “I know for a fact that you can drink most of Angel’s Share’s patrons under the table within a single night.”

“Perhaps so, but I spend far less nights in front of the bar than you do.”

You stare determinedly down into the bottom of your water tankard as Lisa and Kaeya continue their little back-and-forth, feeling an odd sensation tugging at the pit of your stomach. What is this? Anger? Jealousy?

Tapping your fingers agitatedly on the tabletop, you kick yourself firmly in the shin. You’re being ridiculous. Kaeya knows just how head-over-heels you are for the Witch of Purple Rose, and even if he is a sneaky little snake who swaps around the chess pieces when he thinks you’re not looking, you know that he’d never do something like… that to you. Besides, you know full well that, even if they’re close friends, they don’t harbour any romantic feelings for each other.

As the songs say, though, jealousy is a green-eyed demon that will listen to irrationality over reason any day, and so you can’t help but glare subtle holes into the side of Kaeya’s head as he continues to converse with the object of your affections as if you’re not even there.

“... I jest, I jest,” He laughs, waving his hand about as Lisa giggles into her glove. “Anyway, as I was saying to our friend here earlier - the weather’s been beautiful recently, hasn’t it?”

You raise your eyebrows at him, a signal that Kaeya clearly sees and pointedly ignores. The both of you know that the weather was far from what you had been conversing about earlier, but you’re glad that Kaeya isn’t giving you away, at the very least.

“Quite,” Lisa agrees, tossing a lock of hair out of her face in a way that knocks all the breath out of your lungs. “Pleasant weather for a stroll around Starsnatch Cliff, wouldn’t you say, [Name]?”

You jolt in your seat and heat up so abruptly that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started smoking. Kaeya sniggers not-so-subtly into his hand as you hurriedly stutter, “U-uh, yeah, totally!”

“Is that an invitation?” Kaeya raises an eyebrow with a coy smirk, and you’ve never wanted to punch him more than you do at this moment. “I’m sure [Name] would be glad to accompany you.”

“Ah, I couldn't impose myself like that,” Lisa shakes her head, and you want to cry because if only you weren’t such a coward you could tell her that she’d never be imposing on you. “Razor could do with some new scenery for his training. I might as well show him the sights.”

“How is training with your protégé going, then?” Kaeya asks. “He seems to have become quite the loyal little wolf since you first took him under your wing.”

“Oh, he’s an absolute darling,” Lisa says breezily. “He still isn’t very verbal, unfortunately, but he’s learning to communicate like a star. And he’s becoming a dab hand at using his Vision more effectively, too.”

“Sounds like you’re a wonderful teacher, then,” Kaeya compliments, then gives you a side-eyed look. “Wouldn’t you agree, [Name]?”

You nod vigorously. “Absolutely!”

“You flatter me,” Lisa sighs, “But a good teacher is nothing without a bright and willing student.”

Kaeya gives you a subtle dig in the side, and you hurriedly go to reply. “H-hey, give yourself some credit. Razor never would have been able to open up so much without you.”

“You’re too kind, darling.” She gives you a brilliant smile, and you very nearly pass out on the spot, but Kaeya helpfully keeps you conscious by stomping hard on your left foot like the little shit he is. You’ll have to get him back for that later - when your heart rate isn’t so rapid that it feels like you might just ascend to Celestia any minute now.

Lisa doesn’t stay for long after that, conversing with Kaeya for another five minutes or so while you stew in your own flustered chagrin and silently continue to freak out over just how… perfect she is. It’s honestly ridiculous. How is she even human? How are you worthy of even being in her presence?

“Well,” Kaeya says as Lisa disappears back down the street, presumably to return to her place in the office. “That went well.”

You glare at him. “You think?”

“You spoke to her, didn’t you?” He counters, grinning cheekily. “That’s a start.”

You open your mouth to give him a grumpy response, then give up and slump forward on the table again. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” He hums, draining the last of his Wolfhook juice and setting the mug down with a sharp thunk. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be preparing for your performance tonight? You should probably go find your partner.”

“Our friend Kaeya is very right,” calls an all-too-familiar figure from atop a nearby roof. “You’re late.”

If it had been any other occasion, you might have jumped, but right now you’re too emotionally exhausted to do anything but let out a long, tired sigh. Ignoring Kaeya’s evil little cackle, you look up and turn to see Venti grinning down at you. “Bard.”

“Accompanist,” He imitates your monotone address, hopping down from the roof and landing softly on the pavement without so much as a click of his shoes. Flicking out his cape, he sets his hands on his hips and offers you his usual cheeky grin. “What’s got you so gloomy?”

“Nothing,” You reply, standing up and dusting off the front of your clothes. “Let’s go.”

Venti doesn’t move. He raises a single, suspiciously perfectly-shaped eyebrow, cocking his head to the side, then looks to Kaeya, who not-so-subtly mouths something at him. You pretend not to notice his obvious hand gestures in the corner of your eye.

“Ah,” Venti says suddenly, his expression taking on a mock-wise air. “Love troubles once again, I presume. Is our dear [Name] still ailed by a paralysing infatuation with one Miss Lisa?”

Kaeya claps enthusiastically, as if he isn’t the one who basically just told Venti the whole story through poorly-done charades. “Correct! I keep telling them to make a move, you know, but they’re too much of a coward.”

You aim a kick at his shin under the table that he dodges easily. “I’m not a coward! I’m just… gauging the territory.”

“You’ve been ‘gauging the territory’ for months now,” Venti whines, holding his fists in front of his chest and giving you the widest-eye look he can muster. “Come on! The eagle that never dives will never catch its prey, after all!”

“Lisa isn’t prey,” You counter. “And I’m not an eagle.”

“Hopeless is what you are,” comments Kaeya, leaning back in his chair and toying absently with a lock of his hair. “Hmmm, why don’t you write her a song? That’s your strong suit, isn’t it?”

“A song?!” You practically combust right there and then - if you’d been a Pyro Vision holder, you have no doubt that you’d have erupted into a column of flame on the spot. “No way!”

“I think that’s a splendid idea!” Venti exclaims, hopping up and down excitedly on the spot, hat threatening to fly off his head all the while. “You write the lyrics and melody, we compose the instrumental part together, and I’ll sing it for you! We’ll be an absolutely unresistable duo!”

“Easy there,” Kaeya teases, holding up a hand. “Our friend here is the one trying to win Lisa’s affections, after all.”

“Then I’ll be sure to try to direct as much of the spotlight to them as possible,” Venti replies, completely unaffected by Kaeya’s attempt to fluster him. You wish you had his coolheadedness sometimes. “C’mon, [Name], what do you say?”

“I said no!” You holler as he jumps energetically up at you like an over-excited puppy. “No way! There’s no way I’m going to just— broadcast my feelings like that!”

“You won’t be,” Kaeya explains, infuriatingly calm in the face of your explosive embarrassment. “Write the song so that only Lisa would be able to understand the true feelings behind it. It shouldn’t be difficult - you’re the master lyricist, after all.”

“Plus you have me to help as well,” Venti chimes in, holding up a single, proud finger. “The Windborne Bard himself - with me by your side, you can’t possibly fail!”

“Look—” You sink back into your seat and hunch forward, burying your face into your hands. A moment later, you raise your head again to see Venti giving you a concerned look. “I appreciate it, I really do, but… I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” Kaeya says unhelpfully, giving you a hearty slap on the back that is also unhelpful in every way. “You’ve performed all over Teyvat - this would be a small feat in comparison.”

“You aren’t helping, Master Kaeya,” Venti says, not-so-subtly elbowing Kaeya in the side. “We need to be cautious here. Like coaxing a young hatchling to fly the nest… we must take baby steps.”

“No baby steps!” You protest, leaning away as he takes a threatening step closer. “No steps at all!”

“Surely writing a subtle confessional song would be much easier than playing an intricate ballad in front of some of the most influential figures of Liyue?” Kaeya doesn’t show any signs of relenting. “Archons above, [Name], it seems that you’ve channelled all of your courage to entirely the wrong places.”

You drop your head into your hands again and glare at him through the cracks between your fingers. “Kaeya, I’d die for you any day, but for the love of the Archons, please shut up.”

He shrugs and obligingly places his finger over his lips, but you can clearly see him hiding a laugh behind it.

Venti hums, leaning over and giving your shoulder a comforting rub as you sigh miserably into your hands. “Hey, relax. I’m not going to drag you out on stage and force you to confess in song, much as I’m tempted to. If you don’t want to do it, we don’t have to.”

You ignore that middle part and choose to focus on Venti’s earnest attempt at consolation. “...thanks.”

“No need to thank me!” He winks playfully and gives your knees a firm pat. “Now come on! Confession or not, we still have a performance to practise for!”

You sigh and smile. “...sure.”

Leaving Kaeya to pay the lunch bill in retaliation for his teasing, you and Venti head off to your usual practice spot in the gardens outside the Cathedral. There’s some debate over who gets to wear the ‘Star of the Show’ Windwheel Aster pin today, but Venti relents quickly and gives you an easy win. You’re pretty sure it’s out of pity for your romantic plight, but you don’t care. The pin looks a lot nicer fastened on the lapel of your coat, anyway - the colour doesn’t match Venti’s cloak at all.

“So what’s the quota for tonight?” Venti asks, giving his lyre an absent-minded strum. “Celestial Destiny on repeat once more, I presume.”

“Shut up,” You groan, flipping open the latches of your instrument case and carefully lifting out your flute. “I’ve just been… lacking inspiration.”

“What you’ve been lacking is emotional fulfilment,” Venti sighs, reaching over and flicking you in the side of the head. “All you do is wander around Mondstadt, practise, and perform. Surely you could compose something flavourful if you had a little more excitement in your life.”

“I have excitement enough just as I am,” You bring your flute to your mouth. “Now shut up and start practising.”

Venti huffs, but begins strumming the opening chords anyway.

The two of you work your way steadily through your usual repertoire for the next hour or so. It goes smoothly as always - you’ve performed these pieces so many times that you could probably play them in your sleep - but you can’t help but feel like something is missing throughout the entire practice. Venti seems to be fully aware of it as well - rather than closing his eyes and swaying along to the music like usual, he just keeps glancing at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, wearing that frown that says ‘I know exactly what’s going on here but I don’t know if I should bring it up’.

Finally, he has enough, abruptly stopping his strumming in the middle of Early Dawn and setting his lyre down on the bench with a huff. “Alright, that’s it!”

You lower your flute and stare at him blankly as he stands and turns to glare at you, hands set firmly on his hips like a scolding parent. “You’re far too dismal! What happened to the Buoyant Balladeer? There’s no breeze in your playing at all!”

“I’m sorry if my heart is too heavy to play as light as the wind,” You retort, setting your flute back in its case. “I’m afraid I’m a little preoccupied.”

Venti looks at you with a furrowed brow as you shut the case with a harsh snap. After a moment, his voice much softer, he asks, “Are you alright?”

You hesitate for a moment. “...yes.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and doesn’t say anything else. After a pause, you groan and concede. “Alright, I’m miserable, so what? Let’s just get on with it.”

“We are most certainly not getting on with it,” He shoots back, turning to face you directly and crossing his arms stubbornly across his chest. “I can’t have my dear [Name] walking around with such a heavy heart. Come on, talk to me. What is it that weighs you down so?”

You stare at him for a long moment. He looks back at you almost unblinkingly, and try as you might to turn away and dismiss him again, there’s something about his wide green eyes that just compels you to tell the truth.

“I’m...afraid.” You say quietly. “It’s such a cliche thing to say, but I’ve really never felt this way before. I don’t… I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Venti smiles reassuringly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. First loves are always scary.”

“I understand that, but…” You bury your face in your hands and groan. “...she’s just so perfect and I’m just so me and it just feels like it’d never work out.”

“Hey, I don’t like that tone!” He scolds lightly, reaching out and flicking you in the cheek. “No talking bad about yourself. Besides, who says it’d never work out? As far as we know, your feelings are mutual.”

“I seriously doubt that,” You sigh, raising your head once again.

Venti raises an eyebrow. “Have you ever asked?”

You’re quiet for another few moments. “...no…”

“Then how do you know what her answer will be?” He asks. “Why assume that it’ll be no?”

You open your mouth to respond, but something suddenly compels you to look over to the town square. Venti goes quiet beside you as you see Lisa, standing beneath the Anemo Archon statue with Razor beside her. She seems to be explaining something to him.

Razor seems to feel your gaze almost as soon as it lands on him and his mentor. His hair bristles, and he abruptly whips around to look at you, but as soon as he sees you, he seems to relax. He lifts a gloved hand to send you a brief wave; you hesitantly return it.

He turns around and tugs on Lisa’s sleeve; she pauses and turns around to follow his pointing finger. You hold your breath as your eyes meet hers.

She raises her hand, and there’s no mistaking it - she’s smiling. An eternity seems to pass within those few seconds of eye contact, and for once your heart isn’t beating in your throat, your breaths aren’t becoming shallow and uneven, you aren’t heating up and boiling over. Instead, you feel a kind of pleasant warmth well up inside you, and you can’t help but beam and wave back.

Lisa looks at you for another moment, smiles once more, then turns around and begins walking away, gently tapping Razor’s shoulder as she goes. He glances back between you and his teacher, then turns around and follows behind her.

A long silence stretches between you and Venti.

You take a deep breath and turn to look at him, and he immediately grins. Somehow, you get the feeling that he knows what you're going to say.

“I need you to help me write a love song.”

#unedited #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin lisa #genshin kaeya #genshin venti #genshin razor #lisa x reader #venti & reader #best friend venti we love to see it #fluff #pining #kaeya & reader #oh also I GOT VENTI Y'ALL #currently trying to build him but i'm losing my mind trying to get good vv artis :') #btw if you haven't try switching the vo language to chinese #venti and kaeya both sound great

[kiribakuhappiness]

👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

Ahh, this question is always so interesting!

First I just want to define the terms above - in case some people aren't aware of their meaning!

Planner: Relatively self-explanatory, a planner is someone who plans out their entire story from start to finish before they even think about writing it. Character backstories, settings, relationship connections, timelines, order of events and their significance, important symbolic details, everything is entirely fleshed out before that pen hits that paper or before those fingertips start tapping away at that keyboard!

Pros: - No need to stop writing for every new plot point/chapter - Generally very well fleshed out characters and scenes. - Plenty of room for constructing well thought-out foreshadowing.

Cons: - Takes a lot of time and effort before the writing process can even begin. - Generally very difficult to tweak details later on, as it creates a domino effect regarding the remainder of the preemptive planning.

Panster: Coined from the term "by the seat of one's pants," a panster is someone who gets a vague idea for a story and takes off running with it. No direction or planned events needed, just their juicy inspiration and a blank document! Pansters are also usually known for writing scenes out of order.

Pros: - Lots of creative freedom. - No feeling of being weighed down by a predetermined path/plot. - Great technique when writing a story that will contain a lot of plot twists.

Cons: - So. Much. Editing. - Will generally end up doing everything that a Planner would do, just later on in the game. - Character motivations + plot structures can suffer by becoming cloudy and unclear/unexplained.

Planster: Probably the easiest to identify/define after learning about the other two, but a planster is someone who is a healthy mix of both! Most writers are plansters, as the range is much more varied and so, by default, contains the medium average. Plansters will get a new story idea, make a few notes or plan out a few important scenes/details, and then use that like a vague roadmap for their stories similar to the dodgy early-2000's Google Maps Directions.

Pros: - A healthy amount of creative freedom when coming up with new scenes and characters. - Easier to make midcourse adjustments in regard to plot devices, foreshadowing, etc.

Cons: - Writer's block can set in when struggling to connect one vague predetermined plot point to the next.

As for my answer, I am very much a Planster, leaning more towards Panster! Usually when I come up with a new story idea, it's a very vague concept, but a concept nonetheless.

So, take Why Is Everything So Weird With the Lights Off? as an example!

When I started that fic, my only notes going into it were these (copy + pasted from my notes app):

Bakugou appears at Kirishima's door; he's been drinking (third year, reasonable age to engage in such activity). Kirishima's first time seeing Bakugou drunk. Bakugou has come to confess his feelings - Kirishima can't imagine why Bakugou would think that midnight on a school night is a good time to strike up a conversation, but what kind of friend would he be if he turned him away? Kirishima's chivalry to be a good friend battles internally with his desire to be with Bakugou as the night progresses. Bakugou is uncharacteristically touchy and honest about his wants to hang out with Kirishima (internally, he's frustrated that he keeps fucking up his attempts to confess, and so tries to stay later and later to get it right). "'M not fuckin' comfortable," he [Bakugou] says [from the makeshift bed on the floor], louder and firmer, as if that will change anything. From beginning - no attraction/romance detected between them. As story progresses - lines start to cross and blur and Kirishima's buried feelings for Bakugou become more apparent to the reader. (Their relationship has started to subtly change, as all relationships tend to do.)

As you can see, there's very little in-depth details here. I don't really go into long-winded explanations and I don't really focus on anything regarding the setting or plot points. Of course, the type of notes I take and the amount of attention to details I give vary drastically regarding the project, but the entire idea is at least glossed over so I don't forget it, and I always try my best to be firm when considering Character Motive (ie; Bakugou drunkenly arrives with the one and only goal to finally confess his feelings to Kirishima), the rest of the fic and all of its minor details come as a result from these motives.

I'll give another example where I went into A LOT more detail, again, copy + pasted from my notes app! Disclaimer: major spoilers for unwritten chapters regarding Fighting Tooth and Claw to Get Back to You.

[Upon UA Katsuki + Fantasy Katsuki meeting for the first time]

"It is fucking winter?"

"Yeah. It's fuckin' winter."

[Right before they switch back] - UA Katsuki experiences a darkness where he finally meets Barbarian Bakugou face-to-face. They approach each other, movements mirrored, and it's UA Katsuki who raises a hand out towards him first, which Barbarian Bakugou hesitates to accept (he is resentful and ashamed of UA Katsuki and believes him to be ignorant and immature). But UA Katsuki needs to know what happened right before the switch, he needs to unlock that memory, and Barbarian Bakugou is reluctantly curious about his unwavering determination, so they clasp their hands together in a strong grip and are thrust into a new place - sunny and filled with green grass. The barbarian clan is there, Dragon Eijirou included, as they prepare to train for several moons straight before migrating away for the winter. Barbarian Bakugou and Dragon Eijirou leave to go train on their own, unbeknownst to them that Eri is following. They banter for a bit and kiss before bakugou wraps an intimidating hand around his neck and jaw. "Are you going to fight me or not?" Dragon Eijirou grins at that, still giving him a sultry, distracted look despite the fingers clasped threateningly around his neck. "What do I get if I win?" He teases. Barbarian Bakugou smirks before he gives Dragon Eijirou's head a light shove in the opposite direction, who steps out of his space again just as easily as he had entered it. "Off, you dumb lizard," Barbarian Bakugou grumbled, still looking amused before he reached over and pulled the glinting, golden sword (All Might) from its holster on his hip and brandished it towards Eijirou, whose red eyes glisten with a new kind of want as he stared at it - the dragon part of him yearning to collect such a valuable treasure. "You would look good as a King, Katsuki," he tells him. Katsuki's smirk grows wider. "And you as a dragon, if you'd ever hurry the fuck up." He gave the sword a vague sway through the space between them and Eijirou's eyes flash dangerously. "Come and take it from me. I know you want to," Katsuki goaded. Eijirou turns into a dragon and they fight.

[Choice made when Imperial soldiers attack during their training session (mentioned at beginning of story by Sero)] - All Might (sword) is falling off the cliff's edge, while Dragon Eijirou is about to get shot by a piercing arrow. Barbarian Bakugou chooses to try and save Dragon Eijirou (abandoning the sword and his future Kingdom), who calls out "NO" even as a dragon who shouldn't be able to speak (he doesn't want Bakugou to lose his throne just for him), which causes Barbarian Bakugou to stop abruptly in shock. The arrow is shot and pierces Dragon Eijirou's underbelly. He lets out a loud roar before he plummets down into the forest out of sight (leading to his capture). Barbarian Bakugou sees red, reaching down to grab the nearest abandoned steel sword (one shown at beginning of story that UA Kirishima shatters) that he then uses to swing down and slice into the shoulder of the soldier that had shot Dragon Eijirou. More soldiers descend into the valley. Katsuki hears a scream and turns to see Eri lying on the ground, terrified as a soldier holds up a crossbow at her. "TO THE END OF ALL DRAGONS!" The man yelled (revealing that Eri, in the fantasy timeline, is also a dragon, and explains her fondness for Barbarian Bakugou when she joins their group and observes how he treats Dragon Eijirou with kindness instead of prejudiced fear). Barbarian Bakugou's feet move without thinking as he lunges in front of Eri, just as her fingertips reach out and graze along his shoulder before everything goes black.

When UA Katsuki awakes again, he is in the hospital on campus, and Kirishima is sleeping in the chair beside him.

[fantasy setting, after the switch back. Barbarian Bakugou - despite still being offered the throne for Musutafu - declines. Izuku and Todoroki are preparing to go back to the kingdom with the news of the vanquish of the Imperial Army, gazing out at Bakugou's barbarian clan as he absently moves about the crowd, barking orders and preparing his clan for travel. Dragon Eijirou joins them to watch as well.] "I am surprised to learn of Kacchan's abandonment of the throne. I thought there was nothing in this world that could replace his desire to be King," Izuku mused out loud to him. "He would have made a great leader."

Dragon Eijirou grinned from beside him. "You're wrong, Izuku," he states simply. "He already is a great leader."

Because of the complexity of the story, with all its many plot twists and such a large cast of important characters, my notes are far more in depth here than they are for my other fic - however, these notes wouldn't necessarily be structured enough to be considered a Planner-mindset, as there is still plenty of room for added details, dialogue, etc.

Phew! What a fucking post :,D a big ole chonker - I hope you enjoyed reading at least, if you've made it this far! 🧡

Fanfic Ask Game - send me a question! ☺️

#fic ask game #kiribaku #writing #personal #asks

[centipedall]

Mister Lincoln, I presume?

Charlie Smith walked to the edge of the small cliff and looked at the old stone bridge. The thing was older than most of the city’s buildings, and the tales surrounding it were the subject of today’s investigation. It was a seven-foot drop from the cliff down onto the beach peppered with broken bottles, shards of metal, and probably tetanus. She looked downwards and sighed. What she had to do for a good picture. Charlie sat down at the edge before scooting herself off into the spiky pit of disease.

The cliff bent inwards from the top, forming a rather spacious pit that formed one of the city’s biggest populations of homeless. Of course, the sharp bits were more prominent inside than out- partly from the wind blowing in, and partly from the denizens themselves. Also scattered along the floor was Fourth of July apparel. The people, like the ground, were weirdly patriotic. A man was dressed in a tattered tank-top, with flag-patterned socks and a star-and-striped top hat. A woman had a large white winter coat over her bare chest emblazoned with the words “Uncle Sam Wants You!” and a grimacing eagle on the back. Another (almost completely naked) person had a flag wrapped around their head like a turban, and a lot of pennies and flag patches in a circle on the floor around them.

Charlie figured that these people were the best to talk with about the bridge. After all, some of them had spent half a century here. They should have some great stories. Unfortunately, no one looked like they wanted to illuminate her. Well, a couple twenties (provided by the website, of course) should fix that.

“Hey! Any of y’all want some easy money? You just gotta answer me a few questions ‘bout that bridge.” Charlie drawled.

Most of the people glared at her. A few went so far as to give her the middle finger. One old man whispered some unfortunate words under his breath. All in all, it was a tough crowd.

“I’ll help out, ma’am. There’s actually some pretty interesting stuff on the underside. Come on, walk with me.” The nude in the turban stood up and started walking. This was met with a chorus of displeasure.

“Jesus, Rick, don’t be an asshole.”

“Boo!”

“Don’t come crying to me when She gets mad.”

Charlie started to follow this Rick guy, but she felt someone grab her arm. A young man looked up at her. He opened and closed his mouth several times before actually speaking.

“Uh, miss, you sh-should, uh, take this. I-I’m s-sorry for bothering you. Please don’t be mad.” The kid held a penny out in front of her. Charlie wrested her arm from his grip and walked away.

“No! Wait, uh, oh g-god, I’m so sorry for y-y-yelling. Please, miss. P-please take it.” The kid seemed to be on the verge of crying.

“Alright, guy. Don’t get mad, okay? See? I’m taking the penny.” She slowly took it from him and put it in her pocket. She took a few steps back, then rushed to Rick, who was standing almost under the bridge.

“So, Rick, what’s so special? I don’t see anything money-worthy.”

“Oh, you can only see it directly underneath the bridge. Come on, follow me.” The man disappeared into the shadows under the bridge.

Charlie hesitated for a moment before following him.

The first thing Charlie noticed was the strange feeling. It was like cold metal was constantly running up and down between all of her muscles. The second thing she noticed was that everything around was dark, although she could still see things in a couple foot radius. Rick stood next to her, and he was hard to look at. In fact, anything that wasn’t obscured by darkness was uncomfortable to see. It was like every color was subtly altered in a way that hurt her eyes. She felt like she had spent the whole morning inside, only coming out at noon.

Squinting her eyes, Charlie said, “Rick? What’s happening? Are- are you seeing this?” She started to back away from him.

He laughed and said, “Pretty interesting, right?” The chuckling abruptly stopped, followed by an alert, “Wait, stay. She’s almost here.”

After the sentence ended, a scraping, metallic noise emanated from in front of them. It was a horrendous sound, like thousands of nails scraping along the marble floor. The noise got closer and closer, until Charlie wanted to collapse with her hands over her ears. Then, it encircled them, the noise buffeting Charlie from all angles. Finally, it ended in front of them. And the solemn copper face of Abraham Lincoln- top hat and all- emerged from the shadows.

As the rest of his upper body revealed itself, Charlie busted out laughing. Jesus. All that tension just for some guy in a Lincoln suit? She would’ve been angry about the waste of time, but this was just too good of a punchline.

“Ok friend. Thanks for the laugh, but you’re not getting the money. If you’ll excuse me, I gotta go find someone else who’ll gimme a better story. Unless you and your buddy got some good folklore?”

“Lincoln” continued to come out of the darkness. The head rose up to a good eight feet above the ground, and the massive copper chest showed. The arms seemed to be around six feet long. Against the relatively proportionate head and chest, they made quite the impact. The bottom of its chin dropped out, revealing a toothless mouth of wet gums and a long tongue. Drool dripped onto the floor.

“What… Is… How…” Charlie stammered, before coalescing her thoughts into “The fuck?”

“Here you go, madame.” Rick said, before tossing one of the flag patches to the thing.

“Excellent. And what is your payment, miss?” The copper behemoth’s voice was high and feminine, and seemed to emanate from its tongue.

“Payment? What do you mean? Wait, Rick, where are you going?”

“See ya, ma’am.” He chuckled to himself and walked out of the shadows.

Charlie started to follow him, but Lincoln swerved in front of her with surprising speed. One of the arms drifted towards her, causing Charlie to backpedal.

“Stay now. I need payment. An egg or a strip of clothing, perhaps.” The eyes of the statue stared a good couple of feet above her.

Oh god, an egg? Like, a breakfast egg or the other kind? Charlie shuddered and felt bile building in her throat. She quickly tore a piece off her shirt. “Here. Here you go. Can I go?”

“No, I don’t want your second skin! I want your clothing!”

“But… this is… what?” Charlie’s voice trailed off.

“Shall I have to keep you until you produce an egg? For shame, to be unprepared. And may I say, you are not showing much deference towards your first Lord.” The thing sounded a little offended in a patronizing way. “He did create your beautiful country. Um-Air-Ika, yes?”

“I’m… sorry? Are you talking about George Washington?”

“Bah! I won’t fall for your tricks! That man was merely a pretender to the first Lord’s throne! Alas, him and his barons had to usurp Abraham's palace with their spiteful treachery! Thankfully, his twin Carver threw him out- with the help of my Hypogaean siblings. Truthfully, the Court had their own plans for that day. I do thank them for implanting Kenny. He did good with reaching our brothers of the Æther. If only they could pull him down from the moon, his barony would start behaving, I tell you that!” The thing snapped out of her tirade and tittered. “How now brown cow, you won’t get me distracted so easily!”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie had lost all fear to the onset of confusion.

“Enfantés these days! Here, let me show you!” It retracted into the darkness for a moment, only to come back with a thick, tattered book between its hands.

“Peer, and become educated!” It shouted… pridefully?

Charlie walked up to the book. It was covered in dried mud, and had many pages torn out. The thing pointed to a page with pictures of the presidents, with their time in office printed under each picture.

“See? Now, this book caters to the Pretender, so it shows him first. However, we all know that Lord Lincoln was the first one. And here. Kenny on the moon, and his barons below him.” It pointed to JFK before gesturing at the presidents that came after him.

Then, it flipped through the pages, first showing her a picture of Benjamin Franklin, then one of an astronaut- probably Armstrong. “Look! I have exclusive pictures of the Pretender’s chief wizard- you know, the one who invented the Frenchman-Powered Juggernaut and bifocals. What a shame he killed Tesla. Now that man, he was an excellent ambassador and wizard. His death ray was just charming! Ooh! I also have a picture of Kenny taken during his exile on the moon! Oh, how sad it is.”

Suddenly, the thing dropped the book. “Wait, I forgot to show you my style! Oh, look upon it, how beautiful it is!”

The thing quickly moved, becoming much closer to Charlie’s body. Then, it curved around her. Charlie saw that, instead of legs, it had a long, thick, wet, ophidian tail that reminded her of intestines. Stuck to the tail were thousands of pennies, almost covering it. The tail went off into the darkness, with no signs of stopping.

“Yeah, that’s, uh, nice, I guess. I like how it’s… covered in pennies?”

“I prefer the term eggs. It’s scientifically accurate. Slang absolutely disgusts me.”

“I’m sorry? Did you say eggs? Wait a second, wait a second.” Charlie dug in her pockets for pennies. She only found one, and showed it to the creature.

“Is this good?”

“Oh, how delightful! Here, give it to me!” Lincoln stretched out a hand.

Charlie tentatively dropped it in its palm, and asked, “So, I can go now, right?”

“Oh yes, dearie, you can leave.”

Charlie started to walk away, then stopped and looked back at the creature. “Actually, one more thing. What would’ve happened if I didn’t give you my pen- uh, egg?”

“Well, dear, I would’ve just kept talking to you until you birthed one! Or I became impatient and retrieved one from within you. I don’t know where they are stored, so I might’ve had to root around in there for a while.”

Charlie paled, took a few steps, and was back out of the shadows. She shuddered as her body returned to normal, then quickly strode towards the encampment. Rick was gonna get a piece of her mind.

“Hey Rick, you asshole!” She yelled. The man walked away from his spot and looked at her.

“Why did you leave me in there? And what was that?”

“We aren’t sure, ma’am. And you said you wanted a story.” He gave her a big, goofy, genuine grin. Oh.

“I’m sorry for yelling, Rick. I thought you were being… well, whatever. But that thing was dangerous. I could’ve died.”

“Don’t worry ma’am. We were gonna go in with some iron if you weren’t out in a bit.”

“Iron? What does that do?” She asked.

“Haven’t you ever heard the stories?” He looked at her with incredulity.

“Uh, I guess not. Listen, I have to go. How can I get out of here?” She said.

“It’s on the other side of the bridge!” He smiled.

“Oh fuck me.”

When Charlie got home, she quickly wrote up the story. Rick wasn’t wrong. It was certainly interesting. Her boss loved it too. He was going to put it in the fiction section, but he was proud of her for expanding into fiction. In fact, he wanted her to write more!

Unfortunately, for whatever reason, the story was pulled back and scrapped. Her boss told her they had no control over it, and gave her some money in condolence. Meanwhile, the bridge was quickly and quietly dismantled over the course of a night. When the next heavy rain came down, thousands of pennies were washed down the riverbed. As well as the copper head of Abraham Lincoln, pierced with iron.

#city slickers #da collector.....

[capricornus-rex]

The Haunt of Redemption (10)

Sequel to: A Path I Can’t Follow

Chapter 10: Return of the Jedi | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: It has been months since your last encounter with Cal, at that time he was a fledgling Inquisitor. In an ironic twist of fate, you cross paths and blades with him once again, and he’s keen on turning you into an Inquisitor as well—unless you bring him back to the light first.

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis, Redemption Arc! Cal Kestis

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 | Previous: Chapter 9 | Next: Chapter 11 | Masterlist

10 of 11

Not only did Cal feel the emotions that you allowed him to feel again, you showed him the memories that truly mattered. He was seeing everything in your point of view.

He saw himself—his old self—leaning against the broken wall of the Vault’s outer enclave, staring at the sunset upon Bogano. It was as if he was reliving the memory of his past self—he felt your hand slipping into his, in return, you clutch it back as both of you peered at the suns sinking behind the mesa.

However, your vulnerability allowed him to intrude beyond that line. He found you inside a house that he’s never seen before and he caught a glimpse of the Holocron being hidden away in a box by a pair of hands; before the slip-up could get any worse and expose Obi-Wan with the Holocron, you pushed him out and erected the same wall.

The vision ended and he jerked his hand away at the abrupt jab of light, a deep buzzing sound cracked in his ears as he shifted back into reality. The Grand Inquisitor saw how the Eleventh Brother appear disoriented—surely, he must have gotten some results.

“Well?!”

“I… I saw it… it was being kept away someplace.”

“Where is it? Where is that place?!”

“I… I don’t know…” the boy shuddered.

As he stepped into the light, it terrified you more when he got closer to you. Your lip shivered in fear, goosebumps pelted your skin, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. The Grand Inquisitor shoved Cal away and stood eye-to-eye with you.

“I see,” he purred. Then through his jagged, pointed teeth, he hissed. “With the Holocron nowhere to be found, yet the boy claims that you’ve seen its contents, perhaps not all is lost after all.”

“I can see that your overconfidence is your best asset,” you spat.

“Charming,” a sarcastic smile crawled about his lip pale, ivory lips. With a flicking gesture of his fingers, the operator pushed the button and the shock was so sharp that your spine arched against the bed. “You will either tell us what we want to know or you die in this very contraption.”

“Maybe I’ll go with… PISS OFF!”

“Very well,” he sighed, sarcastically rolling his eyes. He abruptly turned to the operator and barked. “Set the voltage level to five!”

Another notch turned, followed by the press of a button. The two conduits hummed as it closed in on your body. As the cold, metal pads pressed against the flesh below your collarbone, the only thing you’re able to do is suck in a huge dollop of air and release a gut-wrenching scream so loud that your throat has gotten dry from all the crying. Your body jerked in response to the high voltage—your knees buckled, your wrist pivoted underneath the cuffs, and the agonizing throes of your body to all sides rattled the machine itself.

The Grand Inquisitor threw his fist in the mid-air, signaling the operator to pause, and interrogated you again. There was a sinister glint in his eyes at the instance of an afterthought.

“You know, there is another proposition that may perhaps be of great benefit for either party,” he sniggered. He didn’t await a reply from you, and so he continued. “Join our ranks, I’ll let you live and you will be of better use to me, far better than that traitorous Jedi, Cere Junda.”

“You don’t know Cere! She is a far better warrior than you could ever be!”

“Such misplaced faith, such misguided strength,” he subtly turned to Cal. “Now, I see why he was so eager to take you in because he told me you’d prove me of something—and I’m beginning to see it just now.”

You glanced over the taller Inquisitor’s shoulder to find Cal, he stood there, his eyes avoided you in the brief second that your gazes met.

“I’m impressed that the Eighth Sister spoke highly of you,” the Pau’an added. “As matter of fact, it’s a first for her! She never really liked competition.”

“Send her my regards then,” you spat.

“So, [y/n], what will it be? Die a ‘noble’ death here or see the true magnitude of your power—something that the Jedi nor your Master was ever able to unravel for you!”

Another shock. Your body is gradually growing numb from the electricity coursing throughout your body, your muscles are now suffering from spasms, your heart rate is three levels above normal—any more and it would get touch the critical level—and your breathing labored as you endure the pain.

“That high pain threshold is quite impressive. Not many can live beyond six,” he sniggered. “Notch the setting to seven!”

“No… NO!!!”

As the level of the shock increases, it went from mild to excruciating. Your muscles sprained due to your thrashing, you could feel your nerves burning at the intensity, every limb in your body jerked and curled at the mercy of the voltage.

“Well, he was right about one thing. You are strong, indeed. I am only keeping you alive because he told me that you can be of use to me.

“CAL… PLEASE!!” you cried out, throwing your head back to release an ear-shattering, painful scream.

The sensation was similar to being burned alive, except this one packed a bigger punch—since electricity consumes the body slower than fire, therefore it causes the victim to suffer for longer while still being partially-alive depending on their pain tolerance.

“What’s it going to be, child?!”

“I am a Jedi…! You can never break me!”

“I often find heroics quite dull,”

The indigo cracks of voltage danced before your eyes, your vision has blurred and you could only make out the colors and the silhouettes of those in the chamber. Cal shirked farther back in the room, he was slowly dissolving into the shadows from your perspective, and your cries of pain mixing with the call of his name were agonizing and stomach-churning.

He averted his eyes, even shut them tight with his hands tucked behind his back, and struggled to ignore your cries for help.

“CAL… HELP ME…!!”

Involuntarily and suddenly, a memory that the two of you shared played before his eyes. He saw you clinging on the edge of a cliff after a Nydak destroyed the stone pillar you used as a stepping stone. Your fingers were digging into the muck but you were slipping away.

“Cal, help me!”

“I got you! Don’t worry, baby… I got you!”

The memory of him running to you, grabbing you on both arms to pull you back up. He catches you in his arms in the final tug and cradled you.

An energy he has been unknowingly piling up was almost too much for him to contain. This energy rooted from all kinds of emotions—hate, pain, and anger.

“No…” he mouthed, his eyelids relaxing but keeping closed.

“HELP ME…!”

The Grand Inquisitor has sensed it, but reacted too late. Cal released perhaps the strongest wave of energy, inflicting Mass Push and Empowered Slow in quick succession on everybody in the room except for you, he switched on BD-1 using the Force and ran to you. While the little droid took a minute to reboot his entire system, Cal unbuckled the restraints as quickly as he can. Your body, limp and exhausted from enduring all that pain, fell away from the machine.

“I got you …!” Cal gasped as he caught you.

“Cal…?” you struggled to open your eyes, a blurry image of his face filled your sight.

“Don’t worry, baby, I got you…! Can you stand?”

You didn’t answer, you struggled to stand and Cal supported you by wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Both of you hobbled away from the machine and to the door. Apparently, the effect of Cal’s abilities against the Grand Inquisitor wore off sooner than the rest.

“YOU WEAK, INSOLENT COWARD!” The Grand Inquisitor bellowed while trying to break free, you and Cal were taken by surprise when you saw the Pau’an flexing and stretching his neck and shoulders.

Knowing he had to think fast, he used the Force to pull your lightsaber resting on the control terminal and handed it over to you; he also found that BD-1’s back to full function.

“BD-1, come on!”

When the little droid saw that Cal was helping you, he made a quick, cheerful chirp and flew towards the both of you with his turbojets and perched onto Cal’s shoulder.

“Yeah, buddy, I got you!” he patted the little droid’s head and it chirped in response.

BD-1 voluntarily popped out a stim for you, which Cal caught in the air and injected right into you, hoping that the substance would help you recover enough strength to fight.

“Here,” Cal hands over your lightsaber. “Can you fight?”

A smirk curled at the corner of your mouth as you turned to face him and the both of you traded nods—an unspoken conversation that only you and Cal know the words to.

Your lightsabers ignited and hummed in unison, the both of you positioned into a defensive-offensive stance. It was two against one, though the Grand Inquisitor appeared to be unfazed by the odds. Both parties lunged at one another, the Pau’an deflected both sabers on each side and despite your combined strength, he didn’t back down—rather, he shifted all his weight against the two of you, and the dark warrior loomed over the two young Jedi.

For every jab either of you have for him, he always had a way to parry it. His skill was commendable, but it was also irritating and frustrating.

“Your skills pale against mine! I am more powerful than any Jedi combined!”

“Does he always gab this much when fighting?” you remarked. “It’s annoying, really.”

Cal smiled to himself. He almost hate to admit he missed your sarcasm.

“YOUR BLIND FAITH OF A FALLEN ORDER SHALL BE YOUR DOWNFALL!” The Grand Inquisitor snarled, in addition, he produced his ignited lightsaber in retaliation. The halo that encircled the hilt started spinning in a dramatic speed.

This time, it was the Grand Inquisitor who was in the offensive. He was more adept in using the aggressive, acrobatic forms—you detected a mix of Forms IV and VII, Ataru and Vaapad respectively—and he always managed to keep up with your next attacks, it’s as if he’s foreseen it before you could even make the move. The only thing you had against the Grand Inquisitor is your numbers; if you could overwhelm the Inquisitor with alternating attacks between you and Cal, it would confuse him and lose his focus—even for just a minute or a second, it counts.

You were on the defensive side of the duel; meanwhile, Cal sent a flurry of attacks in the Grand Inquisitor’s way—he attacked with a medley of fast-paced flourishes and spins, at the end of his figure-eight spin he stopped with a backhand that acted as a deflect against the Inquisitor’s overhead strike.

“[Y/N]!!” He simply called.

Cal made sure there was enough space between him and the enemy, he also timed in dropping his lightsaber to the most precise split second, enough for you to slide into the space between them and catching the falling saber altogether—when the black hilt fell into your grasp, the slightest turn of the wrist pointed this blade against the Grand Inquisitor and you slashed him across the shins.

“Agh!” the Grand Inquisitor exclaimed as the saber seared through his greaves.

You couldn’t help the feeling but celebrate in-battle—it was a bad habit, whenever you know you have taken the upper hand that is when you start partying inside your mind while still flinging a lightsaber at the enemy.

He fell to the floor, on his knees, but he was still able to deflect your overhead strike. He stood upright again in the small window of a second after he fell to the ground and was back in action. He focused more on Cal, hell-bent on destroying his former protégé who turned tail at the last minute. Crimson blades torched the darkness and the collision produced a fountain of sparks. The Grand Inquisitor did a cheap shot and jabbed Cal in the jaw with his able, the boy stumbled and it was the Pau’an’s chance to strike—but you quickly deprived him that when you directed your Force-Halt on him.

The Grand Inquisitor remained cemented, with his body still as a statue, and you ran up to him with a downward slash followed by the hardest kick your leg could muster. The impact of his fall was so hard that the gray little discs attached to his ears fell off, all of a sudden, a hybrid of high-pitched white noise and a deep, low buzzing entered his eardrums and nauseated him. The two of you backed away as you watched the Pau’an writhe on the floor with his hands padding his ears, your eyes searched for the gray ear discs and kicked it to the farthest side of the chamber.

“Come on, we gotta get out of here!” you cried.

The two of you made a run for it, Cal destroyed the control panel and the door froze in a partially-opened state. Vaulting through the sizable gap that the door left, the next gauntlet was getting past the bridge. A Stormtrooper punched the alarm before joining the fray, you and Cal easily cut through the numbers and sped across the bridge until you’ve reached the other side.

“[y/n], help me with this!”

Both of you tore the bridge apart by severing its connection until it was fully dismembered from the main platform. The bridge groaned as it became a slope upon its collapse, bringing down the Stormtroopers with it. Cal led you to the elevator and searched for the right button in the middle of a panic, he crunched a button of that eventually led you to a series of corridors.

“Cal, where are you taking us!?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Just now, actually!”

“Then follow my lead!”

For every one out of three turns in a hallway, you are met with a patrol of Stormtroopers who are now vigilant due to the high alert that’s been set off.

“Wait, there they are!”

Cal fished out a thermal detonator from his utility belt and tossed it right into the spot filled with Stormtroopers and then used the Force to shut the door until the bomb went off. A muffled explosion quaked the corridors and the siren howled in a continuous tone. With Cal on the lead, you covered the flank, cutting the path between yourselves and the units of Stormtroopers on your trail.

Your running speed has noticeably slowed down, you could barely keep up with Cal and looking over your shoulder to check if there are enemies behind you.

Come on, [y/n], come on! You coaxed yourself mentally. The exhaustion was eating away at your body for every step you take.

Along the way, you and Cal alternately destroyed the control panels of the doors that you’ve passed by, further cutting off the Stormtroopers chasing you.

“Here, [y/n], here!”

You come across a control room, but you emptied it of Stormtroopers and a single Imperial security droid. Cal approached and peered through the wide windows.

“There’s the hangar!” Cal pointed. “I think we can hijack a shuttle there and get the hell out of—!”

He turned around, his smile that was filled with the hope of a successful escape melted the moment he saw you fumbling to the ground and clutching your torso.

“[y/n], are you okay?” he ran up to you and caught you once again in his arms.

You didn’t tell Cal, but the successive exhaustion of being tortured via electrocution, being caught in combat, and now in the middle of a hot pursuit during a breakout has taken its toll on your body.

“Cal…” you fought between speaking and breathing, managing a tender cooing tone. “My baby… save yourself…”

“No, I’m not leaving you! Not when we’re so close!”

The response he received from you is your labored breathing, struggling to hold on for dear life.

A violent tremor shook the entire structure, the bridge must have totally gone down and damaged the lower levels. Subsequently, the destruction would cascade down to the fortress’s core; if you’re not quick enough, you might as well go down with the building.

“Come on, up you go!”

Cal scooped you up in his arms and sprinted through the hallway that leads to the shuttle hangar. He gently put you down behind some crates and fought off the guards blocking his way to the ship.

“There’s the traitor, stop him!”

A team of Stormtroopers led by a Purge Trooper rifleman blasted away at Cal, the barrage overwhelmed him and he didn’t exactly have Cere and her Force field to shield him from the hail of bullets. He banked the bullets back to their senders but a gunner from the upper platform sniped at his lightsaber with a charged shot—supposedly his head but his hand slipped.

The destroyed lightsaber clattered next to your feet and Cal slipped to the covers with you. You ripped open a concealed section on the right leg of your cargo pants and fished something out of it.

It was Cal’s lightsaber.

“You idiots didn’t search me,” you lightly thumped his head with the emitter as you sniggered.

He held your face and pulled you in for a kiss—it was abrupt, but you could feel the press of his lips against yours.

“I’m glad we didn’t!”

He ignited his true lightsaber, the radiant beam shone over the gloss of his eyes, and a grin stretched from ear-to-ear.

Now back in action, Cal banked the next shot at the sniper; vaulting over the crates, he carved a path to the group of Stormtroopers who were backing away in fear of the one-man army. He took down the leader Purge Trooper and then pulled all of his enemies around him, the lightsaber flew in a fan-like motion, tearing down the Stormtroopers in a single sweep. He returned to you behind the crates and found you unconscious, he checked for a pulse—there was, but it was weak.

“Come on, sweetie, up we go!”

He scooped you again bridal-style and slammed the door button open. Upon entering, he headed for the lounge and laid you down on the couch, kissed your forehead and then darted to the cockpit. BD-1 hopped over on the dashboard and watched Cal work his magic on the ship—a crank of the main power lever that wired the ship to life, and then lightning-fast pace of typing the coordinates and prepping the ship for hyperspace both at the same time. BD-1 noticed another team of Stormtroopers flooding the hangar and shooting the ship, he alerted Cal in a string of frenzied trills.

“I know, BD, I see them!”

He turned the analog stick of the guns in the direction of the Stormtroopers and sent them flying in a single blast. Not wasting a moment’s notice, Cal hovered the ship and made the jump to lightspeed as soon as he got enough altitude from the crumbling fortress.

“Boo, woop?”

“It’s okay now, BD. We’re going home.”

Cal caressed little BD’s head, profusely apologizing to what he did to his first friend and even touched the little droid’s flat, rectangular head with his forehead.

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x reader fic #dark side! cal kestis #dark side! cal kestis fic #inquisitor! cal kestis #inquisitor! cal kestis fic #dark side #dark side of the force #star wars #star wars fic #sw #sw fic #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order fic #swjfo #sw jfo #swjfo fic #sw jfo fic #jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order fic #jfo #jfo fic #inquisitor #inquisitorius #the grand inquisitor #fluff #redemption arc #redemption

[monsterywriting]

Werewolf Boyfriend (Kai) - pt 7

AN: one more part left for Kai

word count: 2873

warning: nsfw at the end but it’s skippable

It was quickly evident that the spring weather was not going to give you a break during this hike. It wasn’t even noon yet and you felt like you were being boiled alive by the sun.

Kai had long since shifted back into his human form in trying to stave off some of the heat, but both of you were already soaked in sweat and half-way finished with your water bottles after only 20 minutes of following the main trail.

“There’s a waterfall nearby we can go swim in,” Kai offered, wiping his forehead with his shirt.

You nodded in agreement, too hot and out of breath from walking to speak without sounding completely winded, following Kai as he turned onto one of the smaller trails with more purpose than the casual wandering the two of you had been doing up until that point.

The side trail wasn’t nearly as well-kept as the main trail, rocks and overgrowth slowing the two of you down considerably and making the walk that much tedious.

Soon, however, the forest abruptly ended a couple hundred meters from a rocky cliff, a small waterfall ending in a pool hidden from the sun by the cliff-face.

As soon as you and Kai walked into the shade, the temperature dropped considerably, and you walked over to one of the large boulders lining the pool edge to take off your socks and shoes.

Kai wasted no time kicking off his shoes and throwing his shirt to the side before cannonballing into the water, his teeth chattering as he resurfaced before he called out to you to join him.

You shook you head with a grimace, opting to just dip your feet in over the edge of the pool into the ice cold water.

“Come on, the water feels good,” Kai insisted as he started swimming towards you, one arm outstretched to grab you.

“Nope,” you yelped as you pulled your legs out from the water and backed away from Kai as he pulled himself out of the water.

Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough to avoid being scooped up by Kai bridal-style as he started walking back towards the water.

“Kai, don’t you dare!” you squealed as you felt Kai’s hands disappear from your waist and the cold water from the pool hit your back.

Before you could scream at Kai as you reemerged sputtering, Kai flew over your head and caused even more water to come up and completely drench you. You were glad you only wore running shorts and a thin shirt, anything more would have weighed you down.

When he resurfaced, Kai had shifted back into his wolfish appearance. As he swam back towards you, you splashed as much water as you could square in his face as revenge, though Kai only laughed once he saw your chattering teeth and overall drowned rat appearance, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

“It’s your fault I’m cold,” you hissed as you clambered onto Kai’s back and clung for dear life, thankful that knowing a shifter also meant having a personal heater.

“It ain’t that bad, you’ll get used to it,” Kai tried and failed to pull you off of him, your arms tightening around his neck and legs wrapping around his torso, “Come on, [Y/N], get off and swim around you’re freezing.”

“Nope, nope, nope, I’m your problem now,” you giggled as you rested your chin on Kai’s shoulder, his wet fur velvety on your skin.

“Fine, I’m just going to enjoy the waterfall for a few minutes, then,” Kai threatened, moving the two of you towards the thunderous cascade of water that was guaranteed to bruise anything that wandered underneath it.

Once Kai was only a few strides away from the waterfall, you finally relented and released him, trying to swim back to shore before Kai could grab you.

Kai caught you by your leg and dragged you back to him, his free hand holding your hands down so you couldn’t splash him again. You were prepared, however, with a mouthful of water right to Kai’s face.

“No fair, you can hold water in your mouth,” Kai’s voice was much deeper in his shifted form, rumbling deep in his chest and making some rather inappropriate thoughts about how hot he sounded race through your mind.

“Then you shouldn’t have thrown me in the cold water,” you recovered, hyperaware of how close you were to Kai.

One of his arms was wrapped lazily around your lower back, and the hand that had been holding on to your leg was now on your hip, the claws occasionally raking against your skin as he kept the two of you afloat and causing shivers up your spine. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks as you stared up at Kai, his own expression unreadable as he looked down at you.

“Are you still cold?” Kai asked, his voice hushed as he dipped his head down nearer to yours.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to work right then. Instead, you reached one hand up to Kai’s ear, softly raking your nails behind them and down to his cheek. Kai leaned into your touch, his eyes closing slowly as he melted underneath your fingertips.

The mood quickly changed as Kai’s hands gripped your hips as your hand wandered down his neck and danced along his collarbone, and you gave an involuntary sharp intake of breath as you felt the tips of Kai’s claws press into your flesh.

“Shit, sorry,” Kai’s eyes flew open as he immediately let go of you and started to back away as he stammered out apologies.

You frowned at the loss of contact following Kai to the shallow end of the pool before you finally caught his arm and pulled yourself back close to him.

Kai stared at you with widened eyes, and before he could say anything and you chickened out, you pressed a quick kiss on Kai’s lips, his shifted form making it slightly awkward.

As you pulled away, Kai followed as he nuzzled closer to you, soft chuckles leaving both of you as your lips continued to find each other.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” Kai murmured, his hands snaking around your thighs and lifting you up closer to him so he didn’t have to crane his head down, “Not in this form, at least.”

“You did tell me you preferred this form,” you reminded Kai, which seemed to stump him as you extracted yourself from his arms and finally exited the pool, climbing up on a huge rock to start the long process of drying off.

Kai walked out on all fours, shaking all the water off his fur before drawing himself to his full height and sitting next to you.

You leaned into Kai’s side, resting your head on his arm as you closed your eyes and relaxed, holding back a smile as you felt Kai shift so his arm wrapped around you.

“I’ve liked you for a while, now, you know?” Kai’s voice rumbled deep in his chest, drawing you from your half-conscious state as you listened to him, “I just wasn’t sure if I should tell you. At first because you didn’t know about shifters and then because you did know I’m a shifter…”

Your hand found Kai’s and you gave him a reassuring squeeze as your fingers intertwined, a sign that you were indeed listening.

“I’m not human and I don’t want to ruin our friendship by forcing something or if you feel obligated to reciprocate just because of me,” Kai continued, keeping his gaze focused on the waterfall, “but I really do like you. A lot. I just don’t want you to feel pressured about starting something you aren’t sure about.”

You sat up, making Kai finally turn to look at you. Turning to face Kai, you put both hands on either side of Kai’s face, his worry-filled eyes melting into warmth as you stared back with a serious expression.

“I am sure. You aren’t forcing me to do anything, Mordecai,” you maintained eye contact with Kai as you went on, “You’re one of my closest friends. I know my initial response to seeing you shifted was… less than ideal, but I know you now and I’ve liked you for a while now, too. And not just your human appearance. Both forms are you.”

You took a deep breath as you finished, your hands dropping to your side. Instead of responding, Kai grabbed your face and pulled you in to another kiss, careful not to hurt you with his teeth.

You felt Kai’s tongue brush against your teeth, asking for entrance. You parted your lips and moaned as you felt Kai’s hand move down to grope at your thighs, kneading your flesh as the two of you pressed against each other in an attempt for contact.

Kai leaned back to lay on the rock, pulling you down with him. The kiss turned slow and lazy as the initial desperation wore off, your fingers tangled into the thick fur around the nape of his neck.

“We should head back,” Kai whispered as you started shivering at a particularly hard breeze, “You’ll get sick if you stay in those clothes.”

You nodded, Kai lifting you as he stood up before he set you down safely on the ground and the two of you left once again towards the main trail.

                                  nsfw ahead

As you started your way back to camp this time, however, Kai couldn’t keep his hands off you, his hand lingering on your side when he helped you up a steep rock wall before not-so-subtly falling to hold your ass.

You were no better as you splayed your fingers across the hard muscle of Kai’s stomach, occasionally pressing soft kisses along his neck whenever Kai leaned down enough for you to reach. Kai, in turn, would dip down to plant quick kisses on your lips, every so often tricking you with a long lick up the side of your neck.

Soon, the two of you were completely distracted as Kai pushed you against a tree a good ways off the trail in an impromptu make-out session. Kai’s knee parted your thighs as his hand snaked under your shirt and pushed up your sports bra to cup your breast, the rough pads on his hands making your nipples harden underneath him. Just as you were about to insist the two of keep going when you felt something press against your hip.

Glancing down without breaking the kiss, you saw something red peaking out from Kai’s fur, the tip weeping what you assumed was pre-cum. Smiling, you reached down and grabbed the sheath it was coming out of, using your thumb to swirl around the flat tip and coaxing out the rest.

Kai stiffened above you, a high-pitched whine leaving his throat as he bucked into your hand. The full length was larger than what you were expecting. Completely smooth, it grew thicker at the base, looking more like a forearm than anything.

You weren’t even certain it would fit, but you’d be damned if you weren’t ready and willing to try.

“You don’t have to, or I can shift if…” Kai trailed off and buried his head in the crook of your neck as your hand gently tugged up the full length of his cock, your fingertips not meeting until about halfway up.

“If you want to shift you can,” you whispered into Kai’s ear, biting back a laugh as it twitched and tickled your face, “but I’m happy with whichever form you choose.”

Instead of responding, Kai began to move down your body, nipping at your skin through your still-wet clothes.

He stopped at your shorts, using the tips of Kai’s claws to pull them and your underwear down to your mid-thigh and exposing you to him. Kai traced his hands up your inner thighs before gently parting your legs, his gaze completely trained on you and ears forward.

You let out a shaky exhale as your felt Kai’s cold nose press against your clit, but before you could tell him anything, Kai gave a long lick along your slit, the pressure of his strange tongue rendering your speechless as you immediately wanted more.

Giving you no time to recover, Kai parted your thighs and began licking in earnest, his tongue swirling inside you, occasionally sucking on your clit before returning to lap at your juices.

By the time the first of Kai’s fingers began rubbing into your entrance alongside his tongue, you were struggling to stay standing, holding on to the tree behind you for balance. 

Kai’s eyes seemed to brighten as quiet moans began to escape you, his grip tightening around your thigh and drawing more whimpers from you. His claws dug into you, red lines appearing on your skin as a deep growl rumbled from Kai’s chest.

You felt pressure beginning to build up in your lower stomach and your back arched as you ground yourself into Kai’s mouth, desperate for more friction.

Kai moved his hand holding your thigh to your abdomen to hold you up as he continued to eat you out until you felt the first waves of an orgasm, tensing as you let out an embarrassing choked sound.

“Kai, I need you…” you struggled to form a coherent sentence, but Kai seemed to understand your desire, pulling away from your swollen cunt and rising back up, though not before pulling your shorts and underwear completely off.

Wordlessly, Kai lifted one of your legs and you hooked it around his hip, pulling Kai flush against you.

Kai smashed his lips into yours, your teeth clanging painfully as neither of you were careful about the difference in Kai’s form anymore. You could taste yourself on Kai’s tongue, though you were quickly distracted by something prodding at your entrance.

You gasped as you felt Kai begin to stretch you, even as he slowly eased in and out in an attempt to get you used to his size, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

“Do you need me to stop?” Kai asked seriously, starting to pull out of you.

You shook your head frantically, leaning your hips forward in an attempt to keep Kai inside of you, “Just need a minute.”

Kai pushed deeper into you, fully sheathing himself in you before standing still, though you could feel his stomach tense as he tried to keep himself from moving immediately.

You slowly relaxed as you got used to Kai’s size, rolling your hips experimentally before nodding for Kai to move, your eyes locked as Kai complied.

The pace Kai set was achingly slow, pulling out completely before bottoming out. It was obvious Kai is trying not to hurt you, but frustration soon overtook you as you begged Kai to go faster, clenching around Kai as you tried to press down further on him.

Another growl overtook Kai as he slammed back into you, a loud moan ripping from your throat as Kai snapped his hips against yours at an unforgiving speed.

Your toes curled as you felt the pressure building up once again into a growing pressure in your lower stomach, never having felt so full before.

Kai showed no indication of slowing down, though you could feel something new press against your entrance.

Curses spilled from Kai’s lips as he snapped his hips flush against yours, one hand dropping to block his base from entering you.

“What is that?” You managed to ask after a few tries.

“Knot,” Kai grunted, baring his teeth in a smile, “don’t want to be stuck together for a half hour out here in the middle of nowhere.”

Finally, you felt another orgasm overtaking you, tightening your walls around Kai.

“Fuck,” Kai groaned as he pulled out of you abruptly and came on your stomach, sliding down and bringing you down with him.

You felt breathless as the two of you laid in a tangled heap on the forest floor, Kai shifting back into his human form in his exhaustion, petting your hair absentmindedly as he lay with his eyes closed.

“That was fun,” you laughed, “but we should get back to the camp to change before your family comes back from their run.”

“Doesn’t matter much, they’ll smell me all over you.” You blanched at the implication as you sat up abruptly, eliciting a half-hearted protest from Kai as he tried to pull you back down with him.

“We’re going back to the waterfall and cleaning up there,” you announced as you pulled Kai back up to his feet and pulled your shorts back on.

Kai begrudgingly obliged, smirking once he noticed your slight limp as you continued down the path.

Running up next to you to throw an arm over your shoulder and continue towards the waterfall, Kai only laughed as you insisted you would die if his family found out about what had happened. He quickly promised they wouldn’t, however, after you pushed against his side and threatened him with no more physical contact at all for the rest of the trip.

#Werewolf boyfriend #monster boyfriend #exophilia #male monster

[bedlamsbard]

Since it is a Rebels Day of Sorrow, and I’m not currently actively working on this story, I’ll go ahead and post this Ezra scene (from the story that must not be named, part of my S4 AU) that starts in the middle of A World Between Worlds and is otherwise, well...pretty classic Bedlam.

2.8K below the break.

I’ve been here before.

It was Ezra’s first thought when he opened his eyes, his head spinning and his whole body aching as if he had put his finger in a power socket.  In a way he supposed he had, if you substituted the Force for electricity.

The sky above him was a particular clear blue, cloudless, with a pair of twin suns burning down on him. Ezra stared up at them in bewilderment until he started to see spots, then grimaced and turned his gaze away. He picked himself up off the rocky ground; somehow sand had already gotten inside his gloves and the neck of his stolen bodysuit.  It was coarse and bitter between his teeth; Ezra spat to clear his mouth and regretted it a moment later even as the sands swallowed up the sputum, the dark trace of the moisture vanishing almost immediately.

A desert planet with twin suns, he heard Maul’s voice say in his head, and looked hastily around, his hand falling to the lightsaber he had hidden inside his stolen armor.  But there was no one else to be seen, just an endless expanse of rolling desert that seemed to go on in every direction.  There was no doorway, either, nothing to show how Ezra had arrived here or how to get back.  There was only a small disturbance in the sand where he must have landed and laid for a time before regaining consciousness.

This was bad.  This was really, really bad.

Maybe if he wandered around long enough Master Kenobi would find him again, but Tatooine was an entire planet, and Ezra had no way to know if he had landed anywhere near the place he had last time.

He rubbed at gritty, already dry eyes, then started to strip out of his scout trooper armor.  It was rated for a Lothal winter, not Tatooine’s endless summer, and he was going to roast to death if he kept wearing it. Beneath it he had kept his regular clothes; Ezra freed his lightsaber from its makeshift casing in the armor and clipped it to his belt, feeling a little better at having it easily to hand. Not that there was anyone around to use it on.  At this point he would have even welcomed an attack by the Sand People, just to let him know that there was someone else around here.

It was tempting to pick a direction at random to start walking, but Ezra had something a little better than mere chance on his side.  Wincing at the feel of the hot sand burning through his trousers, he sat down, closed his eyes, and opened himself to the Force.

I need shelter, he thought.  I need somewhere I can get food and water – especially water – and a way off this rock.  I need to find out why the Force brought me here.

And then he had to go back to Lothal.  That was his fight, and if the Force didn’t understand that – but the Force had let him into the Temple in the first place, and there had to be a reason for that. He clung stubbornly to that despite the fact that the events of the past few days had shown that the Force didn’t necessarily have to have a reason for anything.

Yeah, but there’s a dark side of the Force too, and right now it seems like it’s been calling the shots.

With an effort he pushed his grief and bitterness aside, letting emotion drain out of him like water through sand.  Empty, he sat in the light of the burning suns, and let the Force flow through him.

There.

It was a direction, nothing more.  Ezra was aware of the Force moving around him in unfamiliar currents, something about it subtly different in a way that he didn’t – couldn’t – understand.  Maybe Ka –

No.

His skin was already beginning to redden as he unfolded his legs and pushed to his feet.  With a last look around at the wasteland surrounding him, hoping for and not seeing some kind of landmark to make certain he could find his way back here, Ezra started to walk.

*

He walked for a long time, only subconsciously aware of the twin suns slowly moving across the horizon. Each step blurred into the next, time both compressing into a single unending interval of heat and exhaustion and the slow spread of sunburn and expanding until Ezra felt that he had been here for hours, days, years.  He didn’t dare stop even to rest, not without shelter; the suns would roast him alive one way or another and they might as well do it walking.  He ended up pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around his head as a kind of turban, giving him some protection from the blistering suns, but it didn’t help much.  He could feel the Force shifting around him, protecting him, guiding him, but he didn’t know if the half-trance he had fallen into with each trudging step was due to it or the suns or the slow slide of time.

It was a shock when he stumbled up to the edge of a cliff and nearly fell over it, catching himself at the last moment.  A few pebbles trickled over the edge, bouncing heavily down the steep slope. Ezra put a hand up to shade his eyes, not entirely certain that he was seeing something real and not an illusion. There was a settlement down in the valley below him, a big one by Lothal’s standards and he was assuming by Tatooine’s as well, since it had even less of a population than Lothal.  As he watched, a starship landed and another took off; squinting, Ezra could make out the shape of spaceport hangar bays.

He let out his breath in a low sigh of relief.  The last time he had come to Tatooine he had spent some time looking up information on the planet, even though he had ended up never visiting any of the settlements; this had to be one of them.

It took him some time to find a way down into the valley, but he managed it eventually, trekking down a worn dirt path that showed the passage of people and animals.  There was no city gate or regulated road into the city; Ezra simply walked in, startled by the press of people after the calm, still silence of the desert.  He resisted the urge to throw himself on the nearest of them and demand water; instead, he let himself move among them, following the ebb and flow of the crowd like a leaf carried by a stream.  He wished there was a stream, but he didn’t think there was any such thing to be found anywhere on the planet.

Eventually he followed a group of Nikto into a cantina.  Trying to look as if he belonged, Ezra made his way up to the bar and ordered a blue milk and, apparently as an afterthought, a glass of water, digging a credchip out of his pocket to pay for it.  The bartender took the credchip from him and started to move away, then stopped suddenly and frowned at it, holding it up to the cracked lamp by the shelved bottles.  He turned back to Ezra with sudden violence that made Ezra draw back, startled.

“What is this?” he demanded. “Some kind of joke?”  He threw the credchip back on the bar in front of Ezra.  “You want a drink, you pay with real money.”

Ezra picked the credchip up and turned it over between his fingers, but aside from the regular nicks and scratches of wear and tear it looked exactly like every other credchip he had ever seen, down to the Imperial seal on the back. “This is real money.”

“You want me to bring the Hutts in?” the bartender said, one hand vanishing beneath the bar – either for a weapon or a comlink Ezra couldn’t tell. “Get out!  And don’t come back!”

“Okay, okay!” Ezra said, stuffing the credchip back into his pocket and holding up his hands.  The bartender and a few of the other patrons watched him suspiciously all the way out of the cantina.

He winced as he stepped back into the hot sun, the heat like a blast furnace after a few moments in the relative cool of the cantina.  He licked dry, cracked lips, thinking about what to do next, but if his money wasn’t good here – some Outer Rim planets, even the ones nominally under Imperial control, could get weird – then he’d have to find someone else’s.  Ezra hadn’t had to pick pockets in a while, but it wasn’t as though he’d forgotten how.

He drifted through the crowds for a few minutes, keeping an eye out for someone who looked like having their purse lifted wouldn’t be more than a mild inconvenience.  When he finally found one, a prosperous-looking Rodian, Ezra didn’t even have to use the Force, just moved with the rest of the passersby and slipped the man’s purse off his belt so smoothly he doubted the Rodian would even notice until he tried to pay for something.  He kept walking unhurriedly until he spotted the dubious shelter of a narrow alley, then ducked down it, relieved to find that no one else had had the same idea.

Ezra transferred most of the contents of the Rodian’s purse to his own pockets, then examined one credchip. It looked like the one he had offered the bartender – same size, same weight, probably the same metal content. Ezra turned it over in his hand, rubbing his thumb against the Imperial seal, then stopped abruptly.

Instead of the Imperial seal, the symbol on the back was different, something he had only seen a handful of times before – on old military surplus equipment Phoenix Squadron had acquired, and on the ruined droid ship back on Agamar.  It was the old Separatist symbol.

Ezra knew that there were still old Republic credits in circulation, though by Imperial law they were only worth about ten percent of the equivalent Imperial currency. Confederate credits, on the other hand, were worthless.  This credchip didn’t look like it was old enough to be from the Clone Wars, though, and when Ezra checked the date it was recent.  Since the Confederacy of Independent Systems hadn’t existed since before Ezra had been born, that didn’t make any sense at all.  And the date –

For the first time, Ezra remembered that the gateways led not only to all sorts of places, but to all sorts of times, too.  He’d – Ahsoka had come from the battle at Malachor.  If he’d – come out – at some other time, not just somewhere else –

But the date on the credchip was recent, and it was by Imperial reckoning, not Republic reckoning. The Emperor had reorganized the calendar when he had taken the throne, and this didn’t look like what Ezra knew of Republic reckoning.  So –

Ezra had absolutely no idea what that meant.

He dropped the Rodian’s purse in the street after he had stepped out of the alley, heading for the first cantina he could see.  Hopefully they’d take the money; Ezra didn’t feel like he could think without something to drink.

This cantina was much bigger than the last one, and probably doubled as a hotel or caravanserai going by its size.  Ezra cautiously ordered the same thing he had at the last cantina; the bartender didn’t give his credits a second glance, and Ezra gratefully slurped down the water and, more slowly, the blue milk, then ordered a plate of the special and another glass of water.  As he was making his way through the food and feeling a few of his higher brain functions return, the bartender leaned an elbow on the counter and asked, “You here to meet the other Jedi?  I haven’t seen you in here before.”

Ezra froze, fork halfway to his mouth.  It hadn’t even occurred to him that he was still wearing his lightsaber openly; so few people could actually recognize one these days that he’d gotten used to the idea that no one ever would.

But – other Jedi?

There were no other Jedi. There was just him.  The Empire had seen to that.  Governor Pryce had seen to that.

He made an indeterminate sound that might have been agreement and forced himself to take another bite, just so he wasn’t sitting there looking shocked.  Only after he had chewed and swallowed did he say, “What room are they in again?  That didn’t get passed along,” he added vaguely.

The bartender didn’t seem to notice his uncertainty.  “The suite on the third floor,” he said. “319.”

“Thanks,” Ezra said slowly, his head spinning.  He finished the rest of his food, drained the glass of water, and tipped the bartender with some of his stolen credits.  Well, apparently that money was good here, wherever here was.

The stairs leading to the upper floors were at the back.  Ezra followed them up, finding them clean and well-lit, and emerged onto the third floor.  The suite was easy to find; the door was directly across from the stairs.  Ezra hesitated, staring at it.  He couldn’t sense anyone inside; if there were Jedi staying there, then they weren’t here now.  But that was impossible.  There were no other Jedi, and if there were, they wouldn’t be staying openly at a place like this, even in a galactic armpit like Tatooine.

But if they were Jedi –

He went down the hallway and placed his palm against the door, reaching out with the Force.  There was something here, a faint trace of presence; whoever it was hadn’t been staying here long enough to leave behind anything more significant than that. Ezra reached for the door controls, on the verge of going in and having a look around, then stopped.  If they were Jedi, then breaking in probably wasn’t the best idea.  If they weren’t –

Ezra literally couldn’t think of what would happen then.

Exhausted, he sank down to the floor in front of the door and leaned his head back against it.  He probably should have tried to meditate, but he was too tired. His skin felt scorched from too long in the sun, he had sand in his boots, in his shirt, in his hair, in every conceivable crevice and a few that he hadn’t known he could get sand into, and Ka –

He thumped his head glumly back against the door a few times, trying to bludgeon the thought away. He wasn’t on Lothal, that was what mattered.  He wasn’t on Lothal and he had to get back to Lothal as soon as possible.  He just had to hope these Jedi could help him do that.

Ezra shut his eyes, then opened them again just as hastily, because there it was again, that rising memory of flame and heat and –

He dug the heels of his hands into his forehead, shaking his head back and forth as if he could dislodge the memory.  It was still there, though, all too fresh and all too recent, despite everything that had happened in the past few hours.  Maybe he should have been thinking about that instead, but it was too big to comprehend, too impossible for him to wrap his mind around.

He just had to get back to Lothal.

He sat there for what felt like a long time, half-asleep and trying not to close his eyes, because every time he did he saw it again.  Eventually, though, he felt something in the Force shift, followed by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.  Rubbing a hand over his eyes, trying to force himself back to full awareness, Ezra glanced up to see –

“Ahsoka,” he said, scrambling to his feet, but something was different about her.  Something –

Her armor.  She wasn’t wearing her armor.  And her clothing was different, a dark brownish-red tunic with worked leather tabards in front and covering her thighs, but her lightsabers were the same.

There were several other beings with her, a wiry Mirialan woman with diamonds tattooed across the bridge of her nose and a lightsaber on her hip, and two men behind her in the narrow hallway whom Ezra couldn’t see well enough to identify.

Ahsoka blinked at him in surprise, her gaze taking in his bedraggled appearance and then his lightsaber before she finally looked back at his face.  Recognition showed only belatedly in her eyes.  “Rat,” she said. “What are you doing here?  Did Master Windu send you with a message for us?”

Ezra felt the pit of his stomach drop.  He clenched his hands into fists to try and stop their shaking, but there was a waver in his voice as he said, “Whoever you think I am, I’m not him,” he said.  “I – my name is Ezra Bridger.  I’m a Jedi padawan.  I – I think I’m in the wrong place.”

#cut scenes and concept writing #secret project #all along the watchtower #I'm still well-stressed so...you know #as always comments are appreciated

[jinkisbelly]

Champion No More 6/?

First Chapter, Second Chapter, Third Chapter, Fourth Chapter, Fifth Chapter,  Ao3 link, AFF

Rating: pgish

Pairing: Jongyu

w/c:2k

Summary: In a neighboring Kingdom where criminals and captives are forced to fight to the death, a Prince finds his past can no longer stay in his distant memories.

         Carefully, Jinki was lifted up to lean against the back wall of the cave as close to the fire as he could be. There was a thin blanket tossed over his shoulders and a thicker wool one over his legs. His right arm was in a makeshift sling as he tried to balance a bowl of porridge on his thigh and eat with his left hand.  The bowl wobbled, threatening to tumble across the stone beneath him, but then Jonghyun was holding it between both of his hands with a smile. “Let me help.”

          Jinki took a glance at Minho, the man he knew now to be the doctor who saved him and the guards sitting near the entrance before relaxing. A smile, genuine smile was on his face as he laid his head against the wall behind him. Jonghyun gently sat next to him, holding the bowl in his lap close enough for Jinki to take some out to eat. After swallowing, he quietly stated, “You should be preparing for the trek back to your Kingdom.”

          “What trek?” Jonghyun’s fingers tapped quietly on the side of the bowl. “I am not going anywhere until you are good enough to move.”

          “Oh, Love,” Jinki whispered, letting the spoon fall into the bowl. “There is no place for me in your world. There wasn’t then and there isn’t now. I cannot go with you.”

          “What?” He breathed out, almost dropping the bowl entirely as his heart rate spiked, eyes widening and hands shaking slightly. “After so long we… we have each other now and you just... Expect me to leave you?”

          Jinki lifted his left hand to cup Jonghyun’s cheek, thumb moving over his skin softly. “I am a wanted man in Yohal. Haven’t you noticed how your men have looked at me? The moment I cross that border, they will arrest me.”

          “I will not allow it.”

          “I know you would try.” His hand remained as he pushed off the wall. Even as the groan of pain left his lips, he pressed on until their lips melded together. “I love you, Jonghyun, I do, and I wish that we could have our happy ending together, but look deep down Love, and then tell me if you see a life with me in Yohal.”

          “Once I’m King I can pardon you completely. I can keep you safe.”

          “And until then? Am I to hide my love for you again?”

          “That’s not what I meant.”

          “But that is what it would mean.” Jinki leaned back once more, eyes fluttering closed as pain throbbed in his shoulder. “I cannot love you in secret again Jonghyun and I would be in hiding for who knows how long. Could you love me in secret for another decade?”

          “I-” His gaze fell as he placed the bowl to the left of him on the floor. “No, I don’t think I could.”

          Jinki took his hand into his, squeezing it gently. “I think you know what we must do, Love.”

          Slowly, Jonghyun’s gaze rose, his eyelashes brimming with almost shed tears. “I just found you. I can’t watch you walk away.”

          “I’ll write to you, Love. I do not wish to run away from you again.” Jinki’s eyes were soft and warm, his exhaustion clearly evident even as he smiled prettily. “And when the time comes when you become King, I’ll be waiting for the word.”

          “You’ll return to me?”

          Jinki lifted his hand to kiss his palm softly. “I always should have. This time I promise I will.”

          After laughing quietly and wiping his eyes Jonghyun smiled, “Will you allow me to lie with you?”

          “Haven’t you already?” Jinki asked, amusement lining his voice.

          With pink dusted cheeked, Jonghyun mumbled, “Possibly.”

          “But yes, after I finish the food, you can rest with me.” The bowl was picked up again and held as Jonghyun shifted closer.

-----

          Minho had gone outside of the cave sometime before. Whether it was to leave them alone or to actually search for berries in the woods around them, neither were sure. After finishing the bowl of porridge and drinking most of the flask of water, Jinki had been settled down to lay flat once more. There was a bed mat curled in a roll under his head. Jonghyun was very softly leaning against him, head on the left side of his chest. Jinki had his head turned toward him, nose pressed into his hair, gently breathing in his scent. He had fallen asleep a long time before Jonghyun had drifted off himself.

          He hadn’t stayed asleep very long, but Jonghyun didn’t want to jostle Jinki too much. With a hazy smile on his face, he played with Jinki’s fingers resting on his stomach. He was warm and solid against him. Without the looming fear of losing him completely over his head, Jonghyun could feel the familiar safety of his embrace.

          He was reminded of their last night so long ago. The last thing he remembered of that night was curling up into Jinki’s side, getting a kiss pressed to his hair and a very gentle I love you whispered as the grip around him tightened. He fell asleep with Jinki behind him and expected to wake up just as he had now. Except, he woke up to live the worst years of his life.

          Too soon for his liking, he would have to say goodbye, even when all of his heart wished to cling to Jinki and never let him go again. He understood the danger of Jinki returning to his kingdom. A part of him wondered why he never noticed the wanted posters and the bounties that were issued for his crimes. Had he seen them and just not made the connection, or was his mind too focused on the devastating loss he felt?

          “Love?”

          His thoughts froze completely at the whispered call of his pet name. A smile pulled at Jinki’s lips as he caught his gaze. “How are you feeling?”

          “Tingly.”

          “That would probably be the pain salve Minho put on your replacement bandage.”

          “Mm. Right.”

          Jonghyun pushed off the floor, leaning on his left hand and gently brushing Jinki’s hair from his face. “Are you thirsty, Sweets?”

          “A little.” He smacked his mouth a few times before.

          Holding Jinki’s head up, he lifted a canteen to his lips, pouring fresh water into his mouth. “There you go. Take it easy.”

          After swallowing, he glanced around the room. “Still alone I see. I wonder if our affectionate ways scared them off.”

          “With how much Minho saw of my anguish when you were unconscious, I doubt this would scare him off.” Jinki was staring at him intently, causing Jonghyun to pink from the intensity. “What?”

          “You’re beautiful.”

          “Jinki~”

          “Maybe it’s the pain reliever talking, but will you kiss an injured fool?”

          He caressed his jaw lovingly, leaning in to gently press their lips together. “There are many years of kisses we must catch up on.”

          “A memory for you to think of in the coming years, my love.” Jinki moved a curl of hair from Jonghyun’s forehead. “I never forgot how breathtaking you are, but somehow, I’m still startled in your presence.”

          “For such a rugged pirate, you sure are a romantic.”

          “What can I say? I’m charming.”

          “Yes… very charming.” He whispered before he kissed him again, deepening it quickly. The kisses were soft but persistent, the need underneath slipping through. It was a bit longer before they pulled apart, noses brushing as mirrored smiles spread on their faces.

------

          Two more days passed and Jinki gained more strength. By that afternoon, he was up and moving around the cave and surrounding areas. The soldiers kept a close eye on him as subtly as they could, but he could still feel their gazes upon him. He was sitting on the edge of the stream, using an old cloth to clean himself off slightly, when he glanced up the small cliff where a few were standing. “You know, I’m starting to believe they think I’m going to murder you in broad daylight.”

          Jonghyun turned a little, rising more from the water to look in the same direction. He laughed quietly as he swam closer, hands gently finding purchase on Jinki’s thighs. “They’re just doing their duty in guaranteeing my safe return.”

          “I wonder if they’d stop watching so intently if I took you against the banks.”

          “Jinki!”

          His deep laughter rang through the calm of the afternoon, eyes crinkling. He stifled his laughter to act seriously. “I apologize. That’s no way for me to speak to a crowned Prince.”

          “Uh huh.”

          He ran a hand over Jonghyun’s wet hair, humming quietly as he leaned forward. His lips were against the curve of his ear as he whispered, “The rouge of your cheeks gave away your true thoughts on such a proposition.”

          “You are insufferable.” He claimed before pushing off to swim in the deeper water.

          Jinki grinned. “Quite so. That will never change.”

------

          The dreadful day of goodbye came a few days later. Jinki couldn’t use his right arm for much, but he could move without much pain or aid, and Jonghyun knew he couldn’t order the men around him to stay longer than they already had. They walked side by side in silence toward the border between the two kingdoms, each of their horse’s led by the reins on the outside of them. The carriage behind them rattled down the path. “We’re almost there.”

          Jonghyun glanced over to his right quickly, sighing softly. “I know.”

          “Just past that ridge there,” Jinki stopped slowly, pressing his lips together. “This is as far as I can go.”

          “Wait here.”

          Jinki stood and watched Jonghyun walk back to the carriage and his men. Very quiet words were exchanged before they continued down the path past him. Jonghyun returned slowly, dreading what was about to happen next. As the men rounded the ridge and entered the Kingdom of Yohal, Jonghyun took Jinki’s left hand between both of his, lifting it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. Jinki sadly smiled, “I’ll send word to you when I get to where I’m going. I promise to keep in contact, Love.”

          “As much as I don’t want to say goodbye, I am happy I get to this time.” Jonghyun abruptly wrapped his arms around him tightly, pressing his nose into Jinki’s neck. “Please don’t forget about me.”

          “How could I? Thirteen years passed and you were always in my heart. What is a few more?” Jinki pulled away, just enough to kiss his forehead. “Oh, Love. Don’t cry.”

          “Just.. hold me. Just hold me for a moment longer.”

          “As long as you need.” And he did. He held him as tightly as he could with his good arm, nose pressed into his neck and eyes squeezed shut. A long, deep kiss was shared before Jinki brushed their noses together.  “I don’t expect you to wait for me.”

          “What?!” Jonghyun pulled back roughly, eyes wide for just a moment before they softened. “I have tried for years to find love in someone else, much like I know you must have. Deep down I knew you were my one and only, and I had accepted that I’d never love like you again.”

          Jinki’s bottom lip quivered ever so slightly, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he stared into Jonghyun’s. “I love you.”

          “And I you. Forever and always.”

          After another long moment, Jinki sighed, cupping Jonghyun’s cheek and caressing ever so softly with his thumb. “It’s time to go.”

          “Goodbye, Sweets.”

          “Not goodbye, just until next time, Love.”

          Jinki saddled his horse and watched as Jonghyun walked toward the ridge. Just before he disappeared from sight he turned and looked back, tears still on his lashes as he smiled. This wasn’t goodbye forever. He had to remember that.

          Then he was out of sight and Jinki’s heart filled with the familiar ache. He kicked the side of his horse and pulled the reins, turning to the left away from Yohal’s border and toward the south where he knew the port city of Mexru was. There he’d send word to his first mate. Kibum probably already have five different ways planned to skin him alive for disappearing as he had.

-------

#jongyu #onjong #onew #jonghyun #shinee #my fic #jinki #fight arena au

[sunniebelle]

Quickly Sinking Rose- Chapter 1

Nine x Rose

Summary: With the death of her father still heavily on her mind, the Doctor takes Rose on a new adventure to a rainforest planet. Unfortunately, his jeopardy- friendly companion gets in over her head when she gets separated from the Doctor and a massive predator decides that Rose is on the menu. Will the Doctor reach her in time?

A03, TSP

"Now then, Rose Tyler, outside those doors is Monteverde. The planet, Monteverde, not the earth's rainforest, Monteverde. You'll love it. A fantastic place! A whole planet that is..." the Doctor's excited explanation of where they had just landed abruptly halted as he turned his steel-blue eyed gaze away from the monitor and onto his companion, seeing her stare blankly off into space.

Impatience and irritation, at the fact that he was being ignored, warred with a desire to comfort his grieving companion, and he tamped his irritation down quickly. After all, it had only been a few days since Rose had watched her father die...twice.

The Doctor had kept them mostly inside the TARDIS since then, trying to be sensitive to her loss and let her have time to grieve. However, the TARDIS had informed him that morning that she was continuing to have nightmares nearly every night. Though he had subtly tried to get her to talk about them, Rose consistently tried to pretend nothing was wrong.

He had decided a new adventure was in order, a distraction for her from what she had lost and a distraction for him from his quickly intensifying emotions. Namely his emotions concerning his jeopardy-friendly, pink and yellow and very beautiful, brave, clever, and fantastic human companion, whom he very much wanted to take into his arms and kiss until she was breathless and...

Oi! Knock it off! No way are you going down that road, he mentally chastised himself. Very dangerous road, that is, with a steep cliff at the end.

"Rose?" the Doctor questioned as he placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. She jumped slightly at the contact, as though she had been in deep contemplation. He could see the shimmering moisture in her eyes that told him she was trying to hold back tears, a look of pain desperately trying to be masked in her beautiful amber-brown eyes. It made his hearts hurt to know that he was partially the cause of that pain.

She visibly shook her head. "Sorry. What were you saying, Doctor?"

He briefly wondered if taking her into another adventure was a good idea, especially when she seemed so distracted today. He quickly brushed the thought aside, feeling a bit selfish because he wanted to show her this planet.

"I was saying that this planet is a tropical rainforest. Literally, the entire planet is one enormous rainforest. Oh, and there are some variety of plants that are poisonous to the touch, so be careful not to touch anything unless I tell you it's safe."

When she nodded, he said, "The TARDIS has provided you with some clothes choices that are appropriate for the climate."

She nodded again and turned to walk from the console room. He watched her until she disappeared from sight and felt the TARDIS's hum in his mind change to one of worry for Rose.

"I know. Me too, old girl. I think she just needs time," yet, he could only hope he was right. If Rose wound up wanting to go home, he knew it would destroy him.

He turned back to the console to make repairs that weren't really needed, wondering all the while how one pink and yellow human could have worked her way so permanently into his life and hearts.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Rose walked down the corridor trying not to let her mind wander too far. Every time she did, it only brought back painful memories from the week before. Her thoughts lately were constantly plagued with memories of witnessing her father's death at the hands of a hit-and-run driver, then the Doctor's death by Reapers because of a stupid and thoughtless choice she made, followed quickly by watching her father sacrifice himself to fix her mistakes and save the world. Her turmoil over the events of that day had been haunting her sleep, causing her to have vivid nightmares and her thoughts to wander to dark places during the day.

After her thoughtless actions that day, Rose had been utterly shocked when the Doctor had let her stay aboard the TARDIS rather than take her home. Rose's heart had soared when she had heard the Doctor declare to that idiot Adam that he only took the best as his companions and that she was his best. Yet, after the events and words exchanged between them last week, she had begun to doubt that the Doctor saw her as that anymore.

Rose was no longer his best. She was the cause of bringing the Reapers, of creating a Paradox...and of causing the Doctor's death. Rose feared that she had all but proven the Doctor right, that she was just another stupid ape and figured that all it would take was one more mistake, no matter how large or small, to make him want to dump her back on Earth for good.

She forced all of these morose thoughts aside as she looked over the TARDIS's clothing choices. She selected a pair of beige cotton trousers, a white tank top and an indigo blue long sleeve shirt, all lightweight and breathable items, but would still protect her skin. She put on a good pair of thick walking socks and her favorite trainers. She then wove her hair into a tight French braid, not wanting any loose hair to snag on branches.

Finally ready, she walked back toward the console room and saw the Doctor sitting on the jump seat, his leather-clad arms crossed and staring at the green-tinged rotor that stretched to the ceiling.

"Ready?" he asked her, without turning around. She had grown used to his ability to sense when she approached, what with his superior Time Lord senses and all.

"Whenever you are," she said, plastering a smile on her face as he stood and turned toward her. His eyes skimmed over her outfit and landed on her face, studying her eyes. She knew he could see right through her façade, but she couldn't let her guard down for fear of giving him one more reason to take her home.

"What's in there, then?" she asked, satisfying her curiosity for the contents of the pack sitting on the jump seat and trying to keep him from asking about her emotional state.

"Snacks, water canteens, sunblock, raincoats and pith helmets—since this is a rainforest, after all—and rope," he said, though his eyes were still studying her.

"I get all the rest of that stuff, but why the rope?" she asked.

"To keep you from wanderin' off," he said with a smirk. She couldn't hold back her grin and it warmed the Doctor's hearts to see her give him the first tongue-in-teeth grin since the Reapers incident.

"Shut up," she said, giving his arm a playful smack. The Doctor slung the pack onto his back as he chuckled.

He held out his hand and she took it readily, their fingers linking together like puzzle pieces, a perfect fit. She enjoyed the feeling of safety and security that came from this simple gesture of their friendship. She didn't allow herself to imagine what it would feel like if one day that hand were no longer there to hold. That was a dark, lonely path she would rather not dwell on.

"Right, on to the next adventure!" the Doctor said, his enthusiasm contagious.

As they stepped outside the TARDIS doors, she felt her senses being overwhelmed as she tried to take everything in at once. Almost instantly the heat and humidity were stifling, making her grateful for the lightweight and breathable clothing she had on and that her hair was up off her neck.

Everything had a faint orange-ish glow that the Doctor said was caused by the light from the planet's twin suns—each massive and bright orange, located at opposite sides of the planet's equator—reflecting off the moisture in the air.

The trees towered so high above her that she had to tilt her head back, almost uncomfortably, to see the tops, which left her feeling slightly dizzy and very much amazed. The trees themselves looked slightly fuzzy, due to the moss that covered their trunks like a thick blanket. The thin, rope-like vines that hung from the tree limbs swayed gracefully in the breeze, making it look like the trees were waving at them, welcoming the two foreigners to this magical world.

The plants around them varied in shades of yellow-green to a deep, almost black, green. Flowers, many of which were the size of her head, were dressed in a multitude of brilliant colors, gracing her eyes with a rainbow of lovely colors. Her nose caught the wonderfully rich, earthy and flowery scents wafting in the wind and she breathed deeply, reveling in them.

As they walked through the jungle the sounds, which seemed to come from every direction, were almost deafening. The hum of insects and pattering of animals scurrying along the ground, the musical calls of various birds and the loud, frightening calls of primate-like animals. In the distance a loud predatory call, sounding somewhat like that of a tiger sent a shiver up her spine.

Rose loved that in these past few minutes, all thoughts of the horrors of the previous week had fled her mind. The sights, sounds and smells were a balm to her bruised and aching heart.

"What is this planet called again?" she asked, her eyes huge and her voice telling of her awed wonder at the beauty around her.

The Doctor looked down at her and then back at the scenery, as though looking at it through new eyes—through her eyes. He loved watching her expressions and joy at seeing new places, trying to see things as she did.

"Monteverde," he said.

"As in the Earth's Costa Rican rainforest?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yes and no. The entire planet is a rainforest, not just one specific area as it is on Earth. Also, the variety of flora and fauna is vastly different because of the twin suns providing a different climate. Although, some of earth's rainforest foliage was descended from here, hence the name," he explained.

"Really?" she asked, slightly surprised.

He smiled and answered with a simple, "Yep."

A few paces further, a large purple butterfly-like insect floated in front of Rose's face, flitting in mid-air as though it was curious about who these pale creatures were. Completely captivated by the beautiful sight, Rose stopped and stared, causing the Doctor to stop as well and smile at the look of wonder on her face—he was as entranced by her as she was by the insect.

The beautiful creature was as large as her whole hand, from wrist to fingertip, with a body resembling that of a dragonfly and the wings of a butterfly. A moment later it flew away and they continued on their way. Rose's eyes and ears took in everything she could and the Doctor felt proud that his choice of planet could please his companion so much.

He started in on a lecture, Rose listening intently as he explained the history of the planet and pointing out interesting plants, animals and insects. He mentioned that this planet was basically a reserve for harboring rainforest wildlife that was endangered or extinct in other areas of the universe; therefore, it was uninhabited except for scientists who studied the plants and animals, and rangers that worked to keep poachers away. She couldn't help but laugh heartily when he proudly told her of the rare type of banana that he had helped to bring out of extinction by relocating here, from a dying planet half-way across the galaxy.

As he talked, she let her hand fall from his to turn in a circle and look all around her. The Doctor's hand felt empty and he had a strong desire to take her hand again. He instead continued his lecture as he walked on, trusting that she was following.

A few minutes later Rose stooped to inspect an interesting plant that caught her eye, but remembering the Doctor's warning about touching anything, she kept her hands firmly on her knees. The plant looked like a fern, although this plant was bright yellow with dark green spots on the bottom side of the leaves. She thought it was beautiful and asked the Doctor what kind of plant it was.

When she received no answer she looked up and then quickly stood to her feet, looking all around her. "Doctor?" she called out when she didn't see him or hear his voice.

She had been so captivated by the beauty of the plant, she had not noticed the fading sound of the Doctor's voice as he walked on, thinking she was still beside him. She walked in the direction they had been headed, hoping it wouldn't be long before the Doctor would notice her absence and come looking for her.

She was grateful for the generous amount of light filtering through the trees, illuminating the trail and helping to dispel her worries. She kept her mind focused on finding the Doctor and not on the beauty around her, knowing that when she caught up with him she could question him about the plants she had seen.

Within another few minutes she came upon a split in the trail, causing her to stop and her heart to pick up its pace a bit. She was suddenly kicking herself for getting separated from the Doctor, knowing that one mistake like this could be all it would take to make him kick her off the TARDIS.

She closed her eyes and forced herself to take a deep calming breath. When she opened her eyes she looked for clues as to which path he may have taken. As she was studying the ground, her peripheral vision caught movement and she looked up with a smile on her face expecting to see the Doctor.

The smile froze, then faded from her face, her body going rigid as the air caught in her throat.

A few hundred paces in front of her was an enormous jungle cat, its hungry-looking, captivating yellow eyes boring straight into hers.

Notes: This was my very first DW fic! I just finished the second chapter today, so I wanted to post this one on Tumblr first. 

#doctorroseprompts #nine x rose #doctor who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #angst #hurt/comfort #whump

[kanrakixystix]

For your writing game, 13 and 2, and prompt 89!

(also tagging @agi92, @faierius, and @domesticfluffsimulator)

So I kind of cut this one short because this wasn’t supposed to be smutty. Apologies if it ends kind of abruptly! 

World of Ruin. Daemon Hunter Iris. Lesbians. 

Cindy + Iris = “Catch me if you can.”

Word count: 655

Not every night – or what they assumed to be night anymore –was wrought with misery. While it was true that most times the situation wasgrim, and any headway towards protecting everyone who was left was somehowalways overshadowed by the fact that there was so much lost. It was a viciouscycle, one that had become routine if anything in these last eight years, butsomehow, they all managed to keep going.

In Lestallum, though overcrowded, everyone managed to keeptheir heads up. Sure, it was an adjustment, and it seemed hopeless sometimes,but there was something most everyone could agree upon in some way: music. Andthat was exactly what had drawn Cindy there in the first place. Well, andrelocating Paw-paw for good, or at least until the king brought the light back.But he was settled, for now, talking animatedly with Ignis and Talcott aboutthings that didn’t concern her. She’d get the cliff notes later, but for now,she was on a mission.

Dark eyes caught hers in the crowd, and Cindy felt a shiverrace up her spine. Base pumped through the speakers – and she had half a mindto scold them all for wasting the energy that those glaives worked so hard tobring back to them – but not even she could be bothered. Not tonight. She tookseveral steps into the crowd, maneuvering around men and women alike as theydanced without care. This scene wasn’t exactly her favorite, but in the worldof ruin, she would accept any means of escape.

She blinked, and the gaze had moved further into the fray.They taunted her, surrounded by long lashes as black as night. The girl, abrunette she knew, had had the pleasure of tasting before, licked her red lipsand smirked, a silent dare. 

‘Catch me if you can.’

Ultimately, it was an empty goad, but Cindy, never one toback down from a challenge, gave chase, and weaved through the masses to thebeat of the track. How in the world she got tangled up in this girl, his slayerof daemons, she’d never know, but Iris always left her damp, and thirsting formore.

Finally, there was a break, and Cindy slipped through,fingers itching through gloved hands to touch this killer woman in blackleather and boots. Iris slid into her, backside pressed to her chest, and handsimmediately finding their way to the golden curls on her head. Oh, how she hadmissed this, missed the feeling of the other girl against her body. A part ofher felt dirty for falling into the trap of a girl so much younger thanherself, but Cindy liked the games Iris played.

“You caught me,” Iris giggled, and Cindy felt the words morethan heard them. “Now what?” The music drove them to move as one, and Cindycouldn’t help the wandering skim of her hands over her smaller breasts or thedrag of leather on bare skin as she gripped her hips. The world might beending. They might be wasteful. They might even be a little careless, buttonight, it didn’t matter. Tonight, they danced like it was their time.

“That’s up to you, Darlin’,” she teased in response, and herlips caught the shell of the other girls’ ear, leaving Iris to arch and pressher ass into her further. It was all the invitation Cindy needed, and shesubtly grazed her hand up her skirt.

“Whatever you want,” the hunter sighed against her neck. “Ijust want you.”

It was Cindy’s turn to giggle, and the irony of thesituation wasn’t lost on her. Iris might have allured her, wound her around herpinky, but Cindy was the one really pulling all the strings on this girl. Suchcontrol was a terrible thing to waste. After all, she had caught her.

Now, she would take her as her treat.

Send me two numbers 1-15 and another number 1-195 and I’ll write you a drabble.

FFXV Fic Roulette Master Post

Like what you read? Buy me a coffee!

BONUS: Inspiration track

#ciris #cindiris #cindy aurum #iris amiticia #cindy x iris #world of ruin #final fantasy xv #ffxv #ffxv fic roulette #kanra answers #kanra writes #ask #trenya

[likeadove]

fic: come back and sing to me (2/2)

Read part one here

Title: Come Back and Sing to Me

Pairing: Reylo

Summary:  A Force bond is fairly inconvenient when neither participant wants anything to do with the other. Post-TLJ.

FFN

AO3

**

Kylo Ren's anger is shifting.

It is still there, pulsing and coiling inside of him, but…

He can't bring himself to direct it at her anymore. 

Rey is alive. Her light still hums softly in the back of his head, dimmed and weakened. But she is getting stronger each passing hour. He feels a flash of pride at her strength, but a stab of apprehension as well. He never wants to feel that level of terror again. If her light goes out in the back of his head forever, then a part of him also dies. He doesn't know why he knows this so firmly, but their link has etched itself inside his very bones. He feels a rush of echoing warmth from her, from wherever she is.

Why is the Force connecting us?

The Force has not always been his friend, but he has never doubted it. He would not start doing so now.

Besides, hadn't he told Rey to let the past die? And here he is, still clinging to the dead legacies of dead Masters and dead grandfathers. Let the past die. Kill it if you have to.

He'd murdered Snoke. What else could he kill?

**

Rey's leg aches for weeks, despite being patched up as best it could be. She walks around with a barely there limp and has taken to pouring over the ancient Jedi texts she smuggled from Ahch-To. One of the smaller editions holds passages upon passages on how to heal oneself using very specific Light techniques. But the language is dreadfully old-fashioned and difficult to interpret. Needless to say, Rey is not making much headway with her leg.

She has also scoured the Jedi texts for any mention of "Force-bonds" and found nothing.

But none of that matters anymore though, because, aside from her leg, she feels so much better. The color has returned to her cheeks. She devours every meal. She trains vigorously every day. Her arms and legs and middle are hardening with muscle and finally, finally she is sleeping. She sees him every night in her dreams now.

As she exits her quarters and makes her way to the mess hall so that she can start her day, Ben's shadow nudges her. She smiles, humming to herself, and lets her light answer in kind. And then he fades, but not abruptly like before. He recedes gently and slowly, and she knows that she can call him back so very easily.

But she doesn't.

The bond has grown sharper and more intense now that they've both hesitantly embraced it. At any moment she can reach out and feel what he's feeling, if he reciprocates. At any moment she can send a thought to him, can communicate with him, if he reciprocates. At any moment she can send him her own thoughts, her own feelings, if he reciprocates. And lately he's been reciprocating. A lot.

And so has Rey.

A slow but desperate determination is building up inside of her. There is still conflict in Ben Solo. She feels it potently now, whenever he reaches out to her. His confusion and bloodlust and loneliness fill her own head sometimes when he is not being careful.

Rey remembers her vision from so long ago, a future she had buried because it had been a supposed lie, a supposed poison leaked into her mind by Snoke. It is her and Ben standing side by side, her glowing with light, him shrouded with shadows. But her hand is clutched tightly in his. And they are at peace.

She clenches her fist, resolute. Snoke had been wrong. Snoke had lied.

Rey had just reached the mess hall, shoulders squared and ready for the day ahead of her, when General Organa steps into her path, Poe Dameron and a very guilty looking Finn flanking her.

"Rey." Leia Organa's tone is cheery and respectful, and Rey feels herself calm a little. Leia smiles. "Grab your breakfast and then come join us in the council room."

Rey swallows then nods quickly. "Of course." Leia turns away, Poe right behind her. Finn lingers.

"How could you?" she growls. She had trusted him, told him her biggest secret—

"I'm sorry Rey." And she can tell by the emotion in his tone that he really is. "But I'm scared for you."

She scowls and brushes roughly past him, ignoring the line for rations and following after Leia and Poe instead. Her heart is pounding at the upcoming confrontation—

And then Ben is there. Something is wrong. His shadow probes at her, relentlessly demanding an answer.

Rey resists the urge to groan out loud. Now is not the time. And then she gently pushes back against his him. He recedes, understanding she isn't in danger and with the smug air of someone knowing they're going to find out eventually.

Rey sucks in a deep breath, attempts to clear her mind as much as possible, and follows Leia and Poe into the private council chamber, Finn right behind her. General Organa sits at the head of the small table before noticing that Rey is already there. "No breakfast?" the General says, raising a concerned eyebrow.

"Not hungry," Rey grumbles, already feeling dread work its way up her spine. She has held onto this secret for so long, and part of her is loath to share it.

Leia doesn't look surprised. She gestures for Rey to sit down then says, "Finn, close the door would you?"

Finn obeys and Rey sits.

Leia gives her a long look that manages to be both curious and cautious. "Let's not cut corners here Rey. We all know why you're here. You can be honest with me. What's going on?"

And Rey, knowing there is no use in continuing to withhold the truth, sighs. "It all started back on Ahch-To—"

**

Finally finished telling her story from beginning to end, Rey is met with three equally stunned faces.

Finn and Poe both explode at the same time.

"You didn't tell me that he killed Snoke for you—"

"General, we need to get her off this base—"

"You're sure there's nothing in the texts—"

"I'm sorry Rey, but you're a complete and total liability—"

All General Organa has to do to shut up both men is raise her hand. Rey can't quite decipher the emotions rolling around on her face. Anger that Rey hadn't been honest until now? Hope that maybe they can get through this war after all?

"Poe," she says, eyes never leaving Rey's, "call Maz."

A few minutes later Maz Kanata blinks at them sleepily, her small eyes looking massive behind her multi-layered spectacles. "General Organa!" she exclaims when she stops blinking, all drowsiness gone. She sounds delighted. "How can I help you?"

Leia's answering smile is a little sad. "I was actually hoping you could tell Rey about your experience with the Force-bond you had."

The whole room quiets, and Rey, Finn, and Poe's eyes go wide.

Maz looks surprised for approximately two seconds before fixating her gaze on Rey. "Oh? What would you like to know?"

Rey's mouth opens and closes a few times, the months and months worth of unending questions she'd built up about this particular subject instantly leaving her mind.

Finn leans in and catches Maz's attention. "What is it?"

"It's exactly what it sounds like, you dummy. It's a bond through the Force, through two Force-sensitive individuals. They can feel each other's emotions, thoughts—"

Rey's brain has finally slowed down enough for her to form words. "Yes, but why does it start? How does it end? What does it mean?"

Maz is quiet for a moment. "There have been many debates about how one could start, but personally, I think it starts with two Force users feeling the exact same thing at the exact same time."

A memory hits Rey, sudden and unbidden.

Two lightsabers cross, snow falling all around them. Kylo Ren has her bent back as he pushes her toward the edge of a cliff. She can feel the heat and energy buzzing from both of their blades. Her foot slips a half inch. Her mind is going a thousand lightyears a minute, adrenaline and stress pumping through every part of her. Can't die must win fight have to save Finn. Kylo Ren grits his teeth and grunts and both of their arms are shaking and there's a feeling she gets as she continues pushing back against him, a feeling coming from somewhere deep inside of her, so small amongst the chaos of battle and yet so sincere—

I wish I didn't have to hurt you.

The room has gone quiet again. Rey clears her throat. "How do you make it…?" She trails off, suddenly feeling as if she has no more air to speak with.

But Maz Kanata didn't make it to be over a thousand years old by being stupid. "Stop it? You don't. One of you would have to die for the link to be severed. And then part of yourself dies with them. It'll be like an open wound inside your very being." A slight pause. "I should know."

Leia speaks up this time. "Can the bond be manipulated?"

The old pirate queen taps her chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps, if someone strong in the Dark Side sensed a Force bond, they could employ it to their whims. Not for very long, however. Soul-bonds are nearly impossible to corrupt. They come from the Light."

And then, completely unbidden, Rey's eyes fill with tears. Maz gives her a kind smile. "I told you once, Rey of Jakku, that the belonging you seek laid not behind you, but ahead." Then she snorts. "Bet you didn't think you'd find it with your enemy, huh?" Chuckling, she presses a button and her hologram form disappears.

Rey sniffs and subtly rubs at her eyes, embarrassed at being so emotional. Half of her wants to reach for Ben, to show him everything that she's just learned. The other half, the shy half that feels very young right now, wants to crawl in a giant hole and never come out.

General Organa stands and gestures toward the door. "Alright gentleman, out."

Neither of them protest. Finn gives Rey's shoulder a comforting squeeze on his way out, Poe a sad half-smile as they leave the room.

"I'm sorry," Rey croaks out, not able to meet the General's eye.

"For what?" Leia asks. She takes Rey's hands in hers and gives them a gentle squeeze. "When I woke up this morning my son was dead. And now, and now for the first time in a long time I feel hope. Hope for Ben." She leans forward. Her eyes… Rey notices how they soften like Ben's when they look at her. "He's tethered to a light now." The General stands and pulls Rey along with her, face beseeching. "He's tethered to you, Rey. You must go to him. You must try again—"

"No." And suddenly it's two years ago and Rey is remembering how he held his hand out to her, how he offered her everything. How tempted she had been, however briefly. She might not have left with him, but she had failed to bring him to her side. He might still be conflicted, and everything inside her might demand that she seek him out, but she could not survive failure like that again. It would break her heart.

Leia's mouth firms a little, suddenly looking more like a General again and less like Ben's mother. "Rey, I know you must be daunted, but this could be what—"

"No." Rey's voice is small but steely. She drops the General's hands and takes a step toward the door, gesturing with a finger so that it swings open with the Force. "I'm sorry General. I can't. Even if you order me to… I just can't."

Not yet.

And then she leaves and heads straight for the Falcon, ignoring Finn, who had been waiting outside the door for her.

She spends the rest of the day bent over Anakin Skywalker's broken lightsaber. She still has no way to fix it. Just like she had no way to permanently fix Ben Solo.

**

Kylo Ren has convinced a whole squadron of TIE fighter pilots to desert.

It was taxing, of course, manipulating so many minds over such a small space of time. But the absence of Snoke's whispers and the presence of Rey's light has been making him stronger, making every vein in his body spark with power. His cheeks are no longer sunken and the dark circles under his eyes have faded. He eats his meals with renewed vigor. And he sleeps, he finally sleeps. Every night he dreams of her.

Right now Hux is furious. His perfectly slicked back hair starts to become undone as he runs about the command bridge, screaming for the traitors to be caught and hauled back for swift execution. The subordinates under him scurry to do his bidding.

And then Hux turns to Kylo. He opens his mouth as if to say something but then snaps it shut, thinking better of it. But there is something brewing in the General's intelligent gaze, something malicious and mutinous.

And then Kylo Ren realizes that there is less fear in the room. Far less then there should be. He watches the First Order admirals and commanders and captains scramble to obey Hux's frantic orders, their gazes constantly switching between their work and their furious General. Very few glance in the direction of Kylo Ren, and when they do it is with an air of scorn, not dread.

He might be the Supreme Leader, but there is no one in this room that he truly leads.

It bothers him less than it should.

I can feel the conflict inside of you.

Kylo Ren hears the words she'd spoken to him on that elevator, and he almost reaches for her in his head so that he can truly hear her voice but—

Shame twists inside of him. Deep shame. Here he stands, a throne upstairs that belongs to him and him only and he just…

Doesn't fucking care anymore. About ruling, about how the Resistance and thusher have managed to stay out of his grasp for nearly two years, about Vader and his legacy and—

He can feel the Light taking root inside of him again. It rests alongside the Darkness in him, both sides of the Force ebbing and flowing within him like gentle ocean waves. Never fully Dark but never fully Light. Balanced.

Kylo Ren just wants to start moving forward. And the only future ahead of him worth anything at all is alongside her.

**

Rey and Rose are deep in tech talk during some down time when Finn sprints up to them, chest heaving.

"What's with you?" Rose asks with a raised eyebrow, a hint of fondness and curiosity in her voice.

Finn bends over and puts his hands on his knees, attempting to catch his breath. "Someone…from within this First Order…is leaking plans…coordinates…weapon blueprints-"

Both young women are instantly on their feet as Finn launches into a more official explanation.

And Rey reaches for that shadow, pushing with all her might, demanding and ferocious. He answers quickly. What?

Rey concentrates, centers her breathing and then lets him look through her eyes, at Finn excitedly using his hands to speak "—we might have enough man power now to catch them off guard! We know when and where they're getting their supplies, and Poe wants to dispatch a team to go and—"

"How to we know this information is good?" Rose asks smartly. "It could easily be a trick."

Oh, the information is good. His voice is deep and soothing and pleased in her head, and Rey isn't sure she's ever heard genuine amusement come from him before.

"The info is good," she tells her friends curtly. They both hush up instantly, eyes going a little wide, as if they're realizing the implication of her words.

Rey turns and sprints away from the corridor, shouting for the General. She feels the last of her fear of failure slip away from her for good. I'm coming for you, her light sings at him through their link. Ben's amusement fades and he recedes, quiet. But Rey doesn't care and she doesn't reach back out for him. She's coming for Ben Solo and she will drag him out of there kicking and screaming if she has to.

She finally feels confident that he might let her. For sure this time.

**

Like hell Kylo Ren is going to allow her to board his ship when it's in this particular condition.

He needs to take care of some of the riffraff first.

He calls an emergency meeting with all the leadership of the First Order in the middle of a night cycle. All the higher ranks that served under Snoke, that pushed for Starkiller Base, that have personal stakes in the violence and horror the First Order has sewed across the galaxy this past decade, he summons them all.

The room is filled with the sour taste of irritation and misgivings, and it is Hux that speaks first. "Ren, what is the meaning of this? Have you considered the hour—"

Kylo breaks Hux's jaw and nose before lobbing off his head with his lightsaber. That's when the screaming starts.

Some try to fight back, and others rush for the door. He keeps them all locked inside this room with the Force.

Captain Phasma rushes up to him, her blows furious and harsh. He stops her with his right hand, his left holding several blaster bolts aloft. A flick of his wrist and the bolts go flying toward new marks. He locks onto the Captain's mind, squeezing with his right fist. "You will fall on your own blade." And Captain Phasma whirls her massive sword around and stabs herself with swift, brutal efficiency.

It's easy to pick the rest off one by one after that. He enjoys it. The Darkness is surging up all around him, fueling every final blow. But the Light is there too, never letting his vision get too red, reminding him that each death is serving a purpose. This doesn't seem like murder. Not to him. It seems like justice.

**

The Resistance shows up ready to make a final stand.

All they're met with is escape pods and shuttles streaming from the First Order's main ship.

"What the hell happened here?" Poe asks, he and everyone important within the Resistance ranks watching from the main command bridge. All heads swivel toward Rey. Everyone knows now.

Ben's shadow is small in the back of her head. And sluggish, as if he'd just gone through a massive spike of adrenaline and is coming back down. She nudges him and his sigh echoes all throughout her head. She gets pictures, clips of action. There is the powerful thrum of his lightsaber and shrieks of utter terror.

There is blood. On the walls the ceiling the floor the equipment—

And Rey reminds everyone in the Resistance as well as herself that even though she is mostly Light there is still Darkness inside her too. She tells them that Ben Solo has performed a coup and eradicated most of the First Order higher ups, including General Hux. The few leaders he didn't execute have abandoned ship, with the rest of the Army in confused shambles.

She delivers all this news with a satisfied smile.

The bridge is quiet for awhile until, ever the leader, Poe steps forward. "Should we try to rendezvous, then?" He is asking Rey, and she can sense his fear. His apprehension at the frightening, hulking, enigma of a man waiting for them on the other ship. When she reaches out briefly with the Force she can feel that everyone is afraid.

Everyone except her.

**

Kylo Ren feels how near she is. He is up in the Supreme Leader's throne room, a room he has barely used since coming into control. And after today he suspects that he'll never have need for it again. But still, it seems fitting for their reunion to be here. He sits at the foot of the throne, bicep bleeding and sleeve torn from a blaster, waiting.

They are communing with one another through the bond, her light and his shadow so deeply entrenched in the other that it is like he is walking down his own halls with her.

He watches through her gaze as she stops at the nearly destroyed command bridge. As she takes in the bodies, the dead faces frozen in petrified screams. He watches her speak to his mother, watches Leia Organa's face go pale at all the blood, at the smell of death. He's prepared to tell Rey that she'll probably have to defy orders and sneak away when—

My orders are to find you. Rey leaves the destruction of the bridge behind, following his Force signature toward the elevator. That room? Really?

He starts, not bothering to keep his surprise from her. Surely they wouldn't want her coming near him after everything he'd just done?

On the contrary. And she gives him a memory, and oh, it is of his mother. "He's tethered to a light now. He's tethered to you, Rey. You must go to him."

As the elevator takes Rey up and up and up, bringing her ever closer to him, she floods his whole head with her light, with her warmth and her hope and everything that is good. And she shows him, finally, what she's learned about their bond.

**

Kylo Ren is bent over Rey, their lightsabers clashing as snow falls all around him. Hot blood trickles from his wounded side down his leg but he can't think about that now. He has to keep his focus straight. Win the fight take the lightsaber get off this base. His vision is going blurry as he pushes his strength into their locked blades, adrenaline and Dark power alone keeping him from passing out. But underneath all the stress of battle and the throbbing pain from his wound and oh god oh god oh god I've murdered my father, there is—

I wish I didn't have to hurt you.

**

When Rey finally steps into that red, red room she stops, suddenly frozen in place by that look he is giving her. A look that demands that she keep coming, how dare she stop moving—

She runs to him, suddenly overcome with how long they've been apart, with how long its been since she's seen his face in something beyond just thoughts and dreams and memories. He has his gloves off by the time she reaches him so that he can feel the soft skin of her neck and her cheeks and how her hair is so smooth—

He bends down to meet her and touches his forehead against hers, breathing her in.

Poe Dameron and General Leia stand at the entrance, both totally unnoticed. Poe had reached for his weapon out of sheer habit at seeing Kylo Ren, but Leia places her hand over his and squeezes firmly, shaking her head. The older woman can feel the hum of the Force here, powerful and potent and…

The scavenger girl suddenly throws her arms around her son's neck and Kylo Ren (or Ben or a mix of both) brings her close, pulling Rey off her feet a little in the process.

And Leia is able to put a name to it then, what she is feeling through the Force. Balance. And the General knows that there will be chaos and ramifications coming their way in the next month, week, day, hour…

But for now, there is peace.

**

I was lost, I was lost Crossed lines I shouldn't have crossed I was lost, oh yeah

Sing it, please, please, please Come back and sing to me, to me, me Come on and sing it out, now, now

“In My Place” by Coldplay

**

A/N: First off, thank you everyone for your kind words about part one! Was really cool to hear from some of my old readers that have seen me through several fandoms and ships. I hope this delivered a satisfying conclusion! Writing Kylo brutally murdering the First Order leadership brought me more joy then perhaps it should have. Anyway, this is it for this story, but I have plenty more Reylo coming up, including a couple of one-shots and a WIP, god help me.

If you liked let me know!

#bethany writes #reylo #reylo fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #rey #kylo ren/ben solo #the last jedi spoilers

[irlaimsaaralath]

Aftermath [Solas/Lavellan]

This is primarily an exercise in self-indulgence.  I tripped on @galadrieljones and her analysis of the variety of Lavellan options during the final Solas romance scene, and I fell hard into some feelings.  I can’t have that, so gotta work that shit out.  Nothing naughty below.  Just typical fantasy-type violence, romantic-type grief, and some partaking in self-destruction.

This would all take place after their last romance scene, but before Trespasser.  And the **** just indicates a change of perspective or location.  Or something.

P.S. - It’s wicked long, so I’m putting it all below the break.

P.P.S - If someone were to accidentally art a fist fight between Cullen and Solas on behalf of the Inquisitor, I wouldn’t hate it.

:)

The door to her quarters swung shut behind her, clicking as the latch fell closed.  So late in the evening, the hall was largely unoccupied, and each of her footfalls echoed off the stone.  Dorian and Varric sat engaged in a game of Wicked Grace at the far end of the hall, with Krem and Bull as spectators.  All were caught within the frame of light from the hearth’s fire.  Their voices filled the emptiness with boisterous laughter, but as Niyera approached, they grew nearly silent.  They all looked up at her, some more subtly than others, but only Varric spoke.  

“Inquisitor!  Just in time to see Sparkler be humbled by my mastery of Wicked Grace!  Have a seat and join us,” he invited, his tone of voice upbeat and welcoming as it frequently was when he was setting up a con or a particularly embellished story.  Her eyes barely strayed from their forward gaze, but when the firelight caught them, Varric could see they were darkly rimmed and hollow.  She offered only a few words as she passed:  “Thank you, Varric, but no.”  There was no inflection in her voice, neither happy nor sad – it was just uncomfortably flat.  With nothing further, she exited the hall.

Dorian shifted in his seat to watch her departing form before passing a concerned and meaningful glance at Bull.  Krem had already begun to rise when Bull’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.  A silent understanding passed between the men as the Qunari rose, followed after the Inquisitor, and disappeared into the night.  Dorian’s mouth twisted at one corner, and he made a sound that was rougher than a sigh and possessed of a deep and definite vexation.  Tossing his cards face down on the table, the legs of his chair made a skin-crawling screech against the stone as he abruptly stood.  “I need something harder to drink,” the Tevinter stated before departing for the tavern.

Varric threw down his cards as well and scrubbed a rough hand across his creased brow.  Krem leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between, as his eyes cut to the side.  “How long is she going to do this?” he asked, and Varric could only shake his head as he tapped his deck of cards against the table sharply.  “Until the outside hurts as much as the inside.”  The dwarf slipped the cards back into their box and tucked it within an inner pocket of his vest before he looked dubiously at Krem.  “Hopefully, she’ll still be alive when she reaches that point.”  Varric’s broad chest heaved with a sigh and he shrugged his coat over his shoulders, saying, “Look, I’ll see ya later, kid,” as he made his way out of the hall as well.

****

Almost every night for the past two weeks, she’d been going out on her own.  She always had an excuse – a small camp of Red Templars, reports of minor rifts, red lyrium smugglers.  “Nothing I can’t handle on my own,” she would say when offered company or an extra pair of eyes to watch her back.  It wasn’t that any of them thought her incapable, it was simply that she was beginning to seem lost.  

What had passed between Solas and the Inquisitor was known to the closest of her circle – her advisors, Dorian, and Varric.  Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, Dorian had asked her permission before filling Bull in.  Cassandra knew the long and the short of it – she wasn’t big on details and just wanted to know which appendage she should break first.  And, Cole.  It was impossible for her to hide anything from him.  He saw through her as if she were made of glass.  Solas during this time kept mostly to himself – if he was at Skyhold, he was buried in a book, and if he wasn’t at Skyhold, he was off to himself in the Fade somewhere.  The rest of them were vaguely aware, but largely went about their own concerns.

At first, she was angry, and that was reasonable.  Beyond the initial sympathies and lamentations, everyone knew to just get out of the way.  A storm mage in a rage is capable of unleashing a tempest, and none of them wanted to be caught in that.  Only Dorian dared to get close during those days and even he did so with the utmost caution.  But, there is only so long a cyclone can survive its own destructive forces before it burns itself out.  Much in the same fashion, her rage eventually became unsustainable, and like a rift, it collapsed in on itself.  By increments, she became despondent, all but stopped eating or sleeping, and turned in on herself.  Never once did any of them see her cry.

In turn, they all had expressed their concern only to be blithely turned aside after being thanked for their troubles.  Even Solas had attempted to reason with her, but she had sharpened her tongue for him.  She effortlessly turned all of his words back on him, and their assault was brutal and punishing.  When it became evident that he was causing more harm than good, he bowed out rather than continue to exacerbate the situation.  That’s when she began her nightly excursions.  Even the most trifling report of trouble or disturbances warranted her personal attention, and she eschewed any offer of assistance.  Even when she came back wounded, she disdained the healer’s touch for her own remedies, seeming to prefer to suffer the prolonged pain of natural healing.

At times, the severity of her wounds were troubling, and she offered little in the way of explanation.  A lapse in concentration, she might say, or simple miscalculation of her opponent’s ability.  Eventually, they agreed that they should attempt to covertly keep closer tabs on her, but she was becoming more and more adept at losing them in the darkness.  It didn’t help that she had commissioned a new suit of armor for her adventures, trading in the loose drape of the green leather robes she had preferred for a set of ebon-dyed silverite brigandine over chain.  With her cowl drawn to hide her brilliant white hair, she blended into the shadows like one of their own and was as silent on her feet as the specter of a sigh.

****

It had taken more effort than usual to lose Bull, but when she was certain he was no longer shadowing her every step, she made her way to her target.  There had been reports of a resurgence of Red Templar activity in the Emerald Graves.  Like blighted rodents, she mused as she sat perched beneath an outcropping of rocks set high off the road.  The vantage point gave her the benefit of observational range while providing adequate cover.  In her crouched position, she braced an arm against her knee, while her free hand rested fingertips on the rock underfoot to steady her.  She had been watching a crimson spark against the horizon, and it began to grow, splintering off into several separate motes of light as it drew nearer.  

One would think glowing red would be a detriment to secretive travel at night, but the templars seemed oblivious to that logic.  She was willing to forgive the folly in their decision-making as it made her job that much simpler.  In a line along the winding path, each figure grew more distinct, and she counted seven separate individuals.  There also seemed to be a load of raw red lyrium in tow.  It had been so long since the Inquisition had cleared the last of the templars from the Graves that perhaps it had given them a false sense of security.  They might have imagined that attentions would be elsewhere.  No matter, she thought.  Or, at least it wouldn’t matter for much longer.

Across their path, she laid down a static cage trap and slowly made her way behind its trip line.  With any luck, the bulk of their number would find themselves within the barrier, and she could pick off those that scattered one by one from behind.  As she dropped from the crown of boulders, her feet were the softest whisper of leather on the grass.  She sat poised in a crouch, waiting, waiting, wound as tightly as a spring as she balanced on the balls of her feet.  From the harness on her back, she took her staff in hand, gripped at mid-length, and readied herself.

This was what she came for, this feeling.  It was like diving from a steep cliff and into a pool of water.  Apprehension and excitement roiled in her belly, her heartbeat quickened, and before she ever moved, anticipation stole her breath.  The world narrowed in these few precious moments, shrinking her breadth of thought to a single sharp edge.  There was no room left for heartache or grief, no allowance for insecurities or doubt.  No time to feel shattered on the inside, with just the membrane of her skin tenuously holding the shards in place.  It all fell away, and in those few moments, she wasn’t broken.

When the first templar stepped on the cords of magic she had woven across the road, the scent of ozone filled the air and static crackled.  Like threads on an invisible loom, tendrils of electricity met and meshed as they rose up to form the walls of the cage.  She could smell the metallic twang of blood and the acrid notes of charred flesh as the rising barrier sheared through the first templar, depriving him of a leg.  His screams were ragged as he fell, taking two of his comrades with him.  That left her with four outside the cage.  They splintered off as she expected, and taking a deep breath, she strode from the shadows.

Wisps of white hot energy spilled from the corners of her eyes as she chanted an incantation, and the remaining templars turned as one when they heard her.  They charged, and she waited.  When they were just close enough, her eyes flared a brilliant violet, and she slammed her staff into the ground.  Lightning crawled outward and collided with the templar at the head of the pack, and he was thrown violently through the air.  From his body, the energy forked, splintering into jagged barbs that pierced through the men immediately to his right and left.  The electricity was conveyed to their skin through the metal of their armor, drawn by their swords, which acted like lightning rods in a thunderstorm.  With no further fanfare, they dropped like sacks of rocks.

The last templar still on his feet outside the cage howled with fury, and the lyrium protruding from his skin flared violently as he rushed her, sword raised overhead.  She met the blade with her staff, parrying the attack with some effort, then using the momentum to spin away from him.  Even as she pulled an empty hilt from her belt, threads of magic spiraled down her arm and through the cold metal, materializing a blade crafted of her will alone.  When the templar brought his blade to bear again, she met it with her own.  The hum of the magic was palpable as the swords slid against one another until the hilts locked, and she was staring down the lyrium-crazed man over the V of their swords.  

For certain, her strength alone was no match for his, but she drew from the well of her power, channeling it through her body and into her blade.  A growl of effort left her from behind clenched teeth as her boots dug into the ground, and inch by inch, she began to push him back.  His voice was a snarl as waves of invisible heat distorted the air around him, and the lyrium in his skin pulsed with radiance.  He used the additional leverage of his height to gradually force the cross of their swords lower between them, and when she was sufficiently off balance, he threw all of his weight behind a punch that connected with the full measure of its force.

A coppery tang filled her mouth and her vision blurred as she staggered backward, losing her grip on her staff and barely managing to cling to her sword.  The pain in her jaw and cheek was white hot, and she reveled as it washed over and through her in waves.  Pain could be like a salve – applied properly, it could be a balm to the deepest of wounds.  She was only distantly aware of a tickling sensation on her neck as blood wept from the corner of her mouth and the tear the templar’s gauntlet had left in her cheek.  All of her attention was invested in willing her eyes to focus as she stretched out a hand toward the templar.  The refrain of a spell spilled from her lips, and just as ripples of force began to emanate from her, she heard a high-pitched whistle that only preceded by seconds the arrow that ripped into her right thigh.  She cried out, but all the breath left her when she felt another blow to the back of her left shoulder.  The second impact upset her balance, causing her body to cant to one side even as it pitched her forward and onto the templar’s awaiting blade.

Time slowed to an impossible crawl as she felt the recoil of energy from her sword snap back into her arm, and her face came within inches of the templar’s.  Her gaze panned down, and it took her a while to make sense of what she saw.  The tip of an arrow was protruding from just beneath her collarbone on the left, and the templar’s sword was buried halfway into her right side.  It was a passing thought that the only thing that kept his strike from being fatal was the fact that the arrow’s impact caused her body to turn slightly.  The red glow of the lyrium embedded in the templar’s armor throbbed and fell menacingly across his features, distorting them, as he gripped her shoulder and drove his sword hilt-deep in her flesh.

Before her mind’s eye, regrets glittered like so many pieces of shattered glass, tiny mirrors that threw back at her all she was leaving undone.  –  Though sensation had left her fingertips, she pawed at the templar’s armor, vainly trying to find a handhold as she felt her legs trembling beneath her.  Instead, it was his steadying hand on her shoulder that guided her to her knees as he let gravity pull her off his blade.  –  Bits and pieces of memories floated at the edges of her mind.  Her clan and the forests she’d run as a child.  Becoming the Keeper’s First.  The Conclave.  Sparring practice with Cassandra.  Chess with Dorian.  Solas’s lips on her bare skin.  Though she looked unerringly into the templar’s face, it wasn’t him she saw.  Shaking with effort, she raised a hand as if to touch his face, but he roughly caught her wrist.  “I-,” she whispered, another trail of blood flowing anew from the corner of her mouth.  “I wish I could hate you,” she managed at last as her eyes grew unfocused and her chin dipped to her chest.

****

Though time for Niyera had seemed to stand still, around her, it simply wound onward as time tended to do.  Only one templar within her cage was yet alive, and he watched the scene unfold.  She’d taken more of them down than they had anticipated, but it mattered little as he saw the first arrow strike her.  The dregs of the dwarven Carta she’d attempted to dismantle were all too happy to lend their assistance to the templars and their deliciously twisted plan, and it was their arrows that flew out of the darkness.  Expectantly, he waited for the walls of his cage to fall, as he knew they eventually would, but a gurgling noise drew his attention to the nearby crown of boulders.  It would have been impossible to miss the mountain of a Qunari that he found there, fist crushing the throat of a Carta bowman.  Though, by then, the second arrow had hit the Inquisitor, driving her onto his comrade’s blade.  It was far too late now to stop what had begun.

As the severity of her blood loss grew more dire, the magic stabilizing the static cage’s walls ebbed away, and the templar was finally free.  He hobbled over to where the Inquisitor was knelt, passing a glance to the raging Qunari only yards away.  He was still engaged in neutralizing the Carta as their numbers drew from the shadows and set upon him.  As the templar neared his objective, he stumbled, fell, slid on his knees, and sidled up to her from behind.  “No, no,” the other templar said, slapping the elf’s cheek several times briskly.  “Not just yet, Inquisitor.  Stay with us,” he finished, and though she seemed largely unconscious, her head canted upward.  From his pouch, he withdrew a small vial, and the blinking of her eyes was like the flutter of hummingbird wings as he waved it in front of her.  The liquid within the vessel glowed with the same angry red that grew from the templar’s armor and lit his eyes from within.

Her eyes seemed to follow the vial as he waggled it in her field of vision a moment longer, but they never quite seemed to latch on.  With a jerk of his chin, the bearer of the vial glanced at the templar at the Inquisitor’s back and spat, “Hold her.”  Heavy hands fell on her upper arms, pulling back, straining the wound in her shoulder and her side as he bent her body back.  A delirious groan was all she uttered as her head lolled to one side before a painfully tight grip on her chin pulled her face back to meet the templar’s gaze.  He wanted to look into her eyes for this and shook her chin just enough to summon a hint of focus back to her eyes.  Only when he had her attention did he shove the glowing vial of concentrated red lyrium into the rend in her side.  The fire that erupted along her nerves pulled from the dryness of her throat what might have been a scream had she the energy, and he leaned forward to seethe harshly against her cheek.  “The Elder One sends his regards,” the man’s words had no sooner died on his lips than he drove a gauntleted fist into her side, shattering the vial inside her against her ribs.

Pain exploded in the back of her eyes like a shower of white hot sparks, and the surge of adrenaline revived her voice.  She screamed raggedly, and the pain that rippled through her lasted for only a heartbeat, maybe two, before an unspeakable agony took its place.  Scarlet torment painted itself across the canvas of her mind, filling her head with a thousand raucous whispers and searing flame across every nerve and sinew.  Her eyes snapped open, pupils so swollen they swallowed the green of the irises.  Violent spasms wracked her body, and the templar restraining her arms was no longer able to control her.  Her arms now free, hands that had been useless earlier finally found purchase on the templar across from her.  Her grip was iron, and he struggled against her hold to no avail.  The man at her back rose to flee, but when he turned, he found only the terrible edge of Bull’s axe as it cleaved into his face.  

Veins of crimson rose through the whites of her eyes, luminescing, and misty red webs of energy slithered down her arms.  The agony building at her core was a riot, loud and violent.  It choked off every coherent thought she had and wriggled itself into her deepest reaches until there was nothing left but the torment and its insistent urges.  –  Within her body, the taint of the red lyrium clashed violently with the magic of her mark, and when the energy in her hand crackled to life, it was scarlet.  All at once, she felt everything and nothing.  She teetered on a knife’s edge as the last bits of consciousness that were her own fought the rising tide.  But, in the end, she wasn’t strong enough, and the two forces competing for dominance within her coalesced with all the fury of a firestorm.  The resulting explosion of force blew outward, throwing Bull and the templar backward through the air.  When the last of the energies snapped back into her body, she was left a writhing mess of raw nerves and guttural screams.  

****

Krem had fallen asleep in a chair by the fire, which was little more now than a heap of smoldering embers on the grate.  Arms folded, head drooping, his legs stretched out with his feet propped on a stool, and he snored softly every few minutes.  It was peaceful and still in the hall, but that soon changed.  The tremendous doors of the hall didn’t swing so much as they crashed open with such force that they slammed back against the walls.  Ever the soldier, Krem was on his feet and had his sheathed sword in hand before his chair, tipped over in his haste, hit the floor.  Quickly blinking the sleep from his eyes, he found Bull with the Inquisitor in his arms.  Krem only knew it was her because of the glowing of her mark, but even that seemed slightly foreign, a little off-color somehow.

The slender elf thrashed in Bull’s arms, erratic and tortured, and her voice was tinged with an odd thrumming as she keened.  The sound shook Krem to his marrow.  Niyera’s white hair was stained red in splotches, the braid against her scalp unraveling, and her normally green eyes were stained with a crimson sheen.  Eyes wild and body contorted, her head tipped back, and she met Krem’s gaze for a split second.  That was more than enough for his heart to skip a beat.  Blood coated Bull’s forearms, running in rivulets to his elbows, where it collected and dripped.  The effort it was taking the Qunari to maintain his hold on the Inquisitor spoke volumes about the gravity of the situation.

Cassandra appeared from behind Bull as she trotted ahead in the direction of the Inquisitor’s quarters.  “Get Dorian!  NOW!” she barked, and her voice shook Krem from his reverie.  He all but stumbled over himself as he took off for the stairs.  With Varric and the surgeon in tow, Bull shouldered through the door to Niyera’s quarters as Cassandra held it open.  The elf’s guttural screams echoed through the hall, but were quickly muffled behind the door as it fell shut behind them.

****

The crash of the hall doors had woken him, and the heavy stomp of boots on the stairway that encircled his chamber only served to annoy him.  “Why is there never any peace here?” Solas wondered to himself as he pushed up from his rest, but only briefly as a savage scream split the air. Grey-blue eyes widened a fraction, and he was suddenly on his feet and at the door.  He arrived in time to see Dorian and Krem sprinting into the Inquisitor’s chambers, and he snagged a harried healer as he passed, arms laden with salves and bandages.  “You.  What’s going on?  What has happened?”  When the healer only stammered, Solas gripped the man’s arm tighter and shook him once.  “Speak.”

Pulling on his arm all the while, the healer hastily offered, “The Inquisitor.  She-, I-I don’t know.  I must go!”  Solas’s grip went slack at the words, and the healer peeled away in a rush.  A shudder ran through the elf’s body, the equivalent reaction to nails on a chalkboard.  Every thought fled his mind, a fist clenched in his stomach, and his skin turned to ice, while heat seemed to blossom in his chest.  He’d been managing to maintain a reasonably calm outward-facing demeanor in the aftermath of Crestwood, with such skill in fact that some had accused him of being made of stone.  Perhaps in some ways, he was.  He’d spent many years, ages, distancing himself from his feelings.  Shutting things out and off, locking them away.  At this moment, however, he felt very much so wrought of mere flesh and bone.

His feet had numbly carried him across the width and length of the hall, and as he lifted a hand to reach for her door, it opened.  Cullen emerged, forcing Solas to retreat a step, as the commander closed the door behind him.  The men locked eyes when the larger gave no indication that he intended to step aside.  “You need to allow me to pass, Commander,” Solas uttered, his voice quiet though strained with urgency.  With a shake of his head, the former templar stood his ground and laid a firm hand against the elf’s chest as he attempted to advance.  “No, that is what you need,” Cullen returned brusquely as his arms folded across his chest.

“I can help,” Solas reasoned, “if I can just see her…know what has happened…”  There was a hardness in Cullen’s eyes that never wavered, and while it might have given others pause, Solas remained unphased.  “She has enough help.  And as to what happened,” the commander sighed as his arms unwound and he massaged the back of his neck with one hand.  “All I can say for certain right now is that she ran afoul of some Red Templars and-,” Cullen began to explain, but his words were lost as an inhuman scream reverberated through the stairwell behind the door.  Both men tensed in the wake of the sound, but Solas’s jaw set, making a tiny muscle in his cheek jump fitfully.  Taking advantage of the commander’s momentary distraction, the mage murmured the words of a spell as he concentrated, and his body shed its skin in favor of an incorporeal form.  The former templar felt the magic crawl across his skin but a moment before Solas fade stepped through both him and the door.  When Solas rematerialized on the other side, he mounted the stairs in a series of long strides.  Though he abstractly knew Cullen was following close behind, all he could hear were Niyera’s cries of pain.

“Inquisitor!” Solas called, bursting through the door of her chamber and rounding the top of the stairs, though the scene that unfolded before him brought him to a stumbling halt.  Discarded and staining the carpet were a pair of broken arrow shafts dark with congealing blood and a trail of crimson-stained cloths that led his eyes to her bed.  There, he found the surgeon on one side and Varric on the other, each bearing down to prevent the Inquisitor’s shoulders from lifting off the bed.  Bull was bent over the footboard, a hand below each of her knees as he laid in with the bulk of his weight to keep her legs still.  There was…so much blood.  Her back bowed away from the bed unnaturally as she struggled against those that restrained her, and she was entirely unresponsive to Solas’s call.

Dorian stood over the bed, working furiously with Cassandra, and it took him several moments to notice that Solas had even entered the room.  The Tevinter met the elf’s eyes and found a mixture of dismay and horror there before his gaze slipped over Solas’s shoulder.  “Cullen!  Get him the fuck out of here,” Dorian’s voice was uncommonly hard, stressed, as the commander clamped down a hand on one of the mage’s shoulders.  Solas seemed not to have realized Cullen had caught up to him until the man laid hands on him, and the reaction he had was unexpectedly violent.  Snatching his shoulder away before Cullen could find solid purchase, he drove an elbow up and back, catching the commander in the face.  

Though she hadn’t responded to her title, Solas called out to her again, her name, and in response, her eyes flared, crimson tendrils leaking from the corners.  The reaction preceded by only moments a renewal of violent thrashing, and her body bowed away from the bed in what seemed an impossible manner as she howled.  “Any time now would be good, Commander,” Dorian shouted to be heard over the screaming, having to add his own efforts to the struggle to keep her still with his hands on her hips.  A snarl bent former templar’s upper lip, and he paused only to spit out a mouthful of blood before he lunged at Solas.  Cullen snagged the elf’s tunic and yanked him backward, and the two grappled for control before the commander got the upper hand.  

It was no small measure of effort to wrestle Solas down the stairs, and he and Cullen all but fell through the door as the commander hauled him out.  The elf hit the stone floor hard on his shoulder, but quickly climbed to his feet, body poised with coiled tension.  Before Solas could move, Cullen made an exasperated noise and gestured threateningly.  “Is now really the time?  Have you not done enough already?”  The hardened look of determination in Solas’s eyes faltered a moment, the hint of a question passing like a cloud over the face of the sun.  The incredulous noise that fell from Cullen’s lips was punctuated as he threw his hands into the air, then jabbed a finger at Solas in accusation.  “You’re the reason she was out there to begin with.  For a fortnight!  Maker, did you really not know?”

Cullen’s words hit him like a battering ram in center of his chest and stole his breath.  “No,” Solas forced out, pushing his eyes past the former templar to the door behind him.  “She didn’t…we haven’t,” he tripped over the words.  They hadn’t spoken much since Crestwood.  In the first days, Niyera had been angry, so angry, and she avoided him as much as possible.  He thought it better to keep himself out of her line of sight, that perhaps it would lessen the burden.  He had no idea.  Cullen took a step forward, the fury in his voice barely restrained as he spoke.  “Get out of my sight before I have you thrown out of Skyhold entirely.”

Though his lips were perched on the cusp of protesting, Solas’s mouth snapped shut, and he nodded mutely.  He straightened himself and his tunic, donning his facade of composure like a shroud, and turned to begin to walk away.  The elf paused and, without turning around, quietly said, “Please take care of her, Commander.”  Cullen’s gaze bore holes into the mage’s back, and he simply replied, “We will.”  –  Solas didn’t dare take a breath until he’d exited the hall and stood atop the ramparts at the far corner of the courtyard, out of sight and out of hearing range.  Once there, his breath left him in a ragged growl of frustration that trailed off into a sob of grief as the weight of his heart drove him to his knees.  His body curled upon itself, with his forearms on his thighs and the curve of his back pressing his chin into his chest.  This was his fault.  He had done this.  In his selfish endeavor to disentangle himself and preserve his commitment to his ultimate goal, he was destroying the first thing he had truly loved in ages beyond memory.  The press of the heels of his hands against his eyes did nothing to prevent the hot tears that coursed down his cheeks.  For the first time in what seemed like forever, he wept.  Ever such was the downfall of Pride.

****

“But you can do it.  You have the ability.  Now is no time to be bashful, Seeker,” Dorian said, his voice perhaps as serious as it had ever been.  The sleeves of his fine silk shirt were rolled to his forearms, stained with blood, and his hands dripped crimson.  Cassandra pressed her fingers deeply into her brow, massaging and leaving a smear of red as she looked back to Dorian.  “Of course I can, but it may kill her, Dorian,” the Seeker’s voice grew in pitch as she spoke, the strain in her voice evident.  An hour had passed as they attempted to find a way to stop the Inquisitor’s convulsions, which kept them from tending to her wounds with any measure of success.  She had screamed so loudly for so long, that her raw throat and vocal cords were no longer able to physically produce sound.  That, at least, was a blessing.  Bull’s report seemed to indicate that the templar had delivered an infusion of red lyrium concentrate directly into her bloodstream.  Even handling her was a risk to them all at this point – all except Cassandra, who also happened to possess the ability to sear lyrium from blood.  

Dorian’s tone of voice took on a particularly harsh, accusatory edge as he stared at Cassandra and made a flippant gesture.  “Oh, yes, it certainly may.  But you know what definitely will?  NOT DOING IT AT ALL!”  The Tevinter and Seeker seemed about to come to blows, when Cullen’s voice boomed through the room:  “ENOUGH!”  Pressing a cloth against the gash in Niyera’s side with both hands, the former templar glared up at the pair.  “We don’t have time for this.  How much longer do you really think she can last?”  There was only a fraction of a second’s hesitation in his words.  “Do it, Cassandra.”  Dorian took a step back from the bed to give her room, and the Seeker drew in a deep, steadying breath, murmuring, “Maker guide me,” as she pressed a hand into the center of the Inquisitor’s chest.

****

There was only an hour or so before dawn would break, and the birds had begun to trill from their nesting.  The stars yet clung to their place in the velvet dark of the sky, while the first pink of morning sun warmed the horizon.  Solas had spent the remains of the night on the ramparts, alternately weeping, pacing, and swearing as he beat the fists of his helpless hands against his thighs.  Surely there were bruises there now, but he couldn’t be moved to care.  A sound from the courtyard below called for his attention, and when he looked down, he saw Varric trudging down the steps from the hall.  A lump rose painfully in his throat, and his feet carried him to the stairs without thought.  

He needed to know…he needed to see her.  When he entered the hall, it was eerily quiet.  The fire in the hearth had hours ago burned out, and no one had relit it.  Long strides carried him to the outer door of her quarters, which he found unguarded, so he stepped through without hesitation.  He had just rounded the corner to mount the stairs when he met Cassandra, who was wiping at her hands with a blood-stained towel.  Solas’s grey-blue eyes searched her face for any hint of an answer before he questioned, “Seeker?”  Cassandra’s features were drawn with exhaustion, and the gaze that she leveled on the elf made his heart thud painfully in his chest.  The time before she answered seemed torturously long, but eventually Cassandra nodded, saying simply, “She lives.”  

Solas’s breath left him in a rush, and he placed a hand on the banister to steady himself.  He heard his voice shake when he asked, “May I see her?  Please?”  Cassandra’s eyes softened, and she made her way down the last few steps and over to him.  A hand rested momentarily on his shoulder, and she said, “Of course, but know that she has not woken in hours.  Everything we’ve done…after…she never woke.”  Cassandra rubbed at her shoulder fitfully, uttering, “I’m sorry,” quietly before departing.  Trepidation carried Solas’s feet up the stairs softly, through the door, and then up into her chambers.  Gone from the night before were the remnants of arrows, the soiled cloths and bandages, the blood.  It looked as if linens were fresh and that someone had washed the blood from her hair.  She was…so pale.

The only other person there was Dorian, and he was asleep in the chair behind her desk, feet propped and resting on the leather blotter and his arms crossed over his chest.  Solas’s steps were little more than whispers as he approached Niyera’s bedside, and as he neared, he took careful appraisal of her form.  Stitches closed a deep gash in her cheek as well as an angry wound just beneath her collarbone on the left side.  Other scrapes and cuts marred the visible skin of her shoulders and arms, though anything else was hidden beneath a breast-band and the covers that were drawn just below.  Silently, he took to his knees beside the bed and reached out to brush his fingertips against her cheek.

His breath hitched in surprise when Cole’s hand caught his wrist before he could touch her.  “She says no,” the spirit-made-flesh offered, gently forcing Solas’s hand back.  “That you’re here…it makes her happy, and sad, and angry.  And the pain,” Cole says, his voice growing distant as if listening to a voice only he can hear.  The sigh that parted Solas’s lips was like a weight that bowed his head until it rested against the soft cotton sheets.  “Ir abelas, vhenan,” he breathed, not even a whisper, as he folded his fist around the loose edge of the sheet.  “Ar isalan na,” he said as he lifted his eyes to gaze at Niyera’s ashen face.  “She…doesn’t believe you,” Cole said hesitantly as he shifted his weight to lean toward the Inquisitor.  “…and now she’s gone,” he leaned back, folding his arms as he sighed.  

At Cole’s words, Solas’s face lifted, and he stared at Niyera for several moments, watching the easy rise and fall of her chest that indicated she still drew breath.  Confusion settled over the elf as he glanced up at Cole, “What do you mean when you say she is gone?”  Beneath the drooping brim of his hat, Cole shrugged one shoulder as his head shook.  “She’s lost, and she doesn’t know how to find her way back.  The red lyrium…it sang a song in her blood and tried to carry her away,” he paused as he glanced back toward the stairs.  “But, then Cassandra burnt up the song, the notes like ashes caught in a whirlwind.  And now…now, no breadcrumbs lead home.”  

Solas got to his feet, careful not to disturb the bed.  “And yet you hear her?  How?”  The spirit’s thin shoulder rose again, “Sometimes she is closer than others.  Almost here, but not.  Like seeing the surface of the water from beneath, but not being able to break through.  Sometimes she thinks she is drowning.”  Cole’s head tips back just enough so that he can meet Solas’s eyes, and then he whispers, almost conspiratorially, “Sometimes…she thinks it would be better if she drowned, but I wish she wouldn’t.”  Solas settled a hand on Cole’s shoulder, a sudden gravity filling his voice, “I need you to tell me everything, Cole.  What you can see…where…I need to know.  Can you show me?”  The spirit-made-flesh nodded, tugging at Solas’s arm as he turned for the stairs.  “But somewhere else.  The quiet here scares me.”

#solas #solavellan #solavellan hell #dragon age #ow

[dragaliaxander]

third time’s the charm

ao3

1.

The first time Sasuke felt the chapped skin of Naruto’s lips pressed firmly against his own, he was entirely unprepared.

It had been another dull day at the Academy, punctuated only by the appearance of Naruto perched angrily on his desk. His face had contorted into a frustrated scowl as he scrutinized Sasuke’s indifferent expression.

The air had crackled with hostility as Naruto had gradually shortened the distance between them. He had been very, very close. Close enough for Sasuke to notice the soft texture of his normally harsh-looking spiked hair and the line between his furrowed brows and the barely visible freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose.

A sudden shift from the boy sitting behind Naruto had sent him careening forward, causing the blond hair and blue eyes and freckles to blur together as their mouths collided. Sasuke’s body instinctively tensed at the sudden contact; people seldom touched him after the incident.

Time stopped, and neither of them dared to move for one, two, three seconds.

Shocked silence engulfed the classroom.

Naruto was kissing Sasuke.

Chaos erupted once the realization sunk in. The boys sprung away from each other as if they had been burned. An exaggerated look of disgust settled on both their faces as they coughed and gagged.

Naruto Uzumaki, an undisputed loser among his peers, had stolen Sasuke’s first kiss. The sensation hadn’t been unpleasant, but he hadn’t felt any of those warm bubbly feelings that were supposed to accompany a first kiss. Not even a slight fluttering in his stomach. Besides the initial, slightly painful knocking of teeth that came with Naruto’s sudden momentum, the entire event had been lackluster.

The thoughts were brushed aside as Sasuke took in the murderous aura surrounding the group of girls gathered around them.

“It was an accident!” Naruto exclaimed.

Sasuke directed his gaze toward the window, resolutely ignoring Naruto’s pleas for mercy.

2.

Sasuke initiated their second kiss while they were plunging down a waterfall.

Ignoring the fact that he and Naruto were free-falling hundreds of feet through the air with their hands stuck together by a chakra web, Sasuke acknowledged that several other issues—namely the fact that Sakura had been captured and that Kakashi was nowhere to be found—should have been at the forefront of his mind.

But the web hadn’t broken when they reached the jagged rock protruding near the bottom of the waterfall. It had stretched and catapulted the pair back into the air with so much force that Sasuke had felt the air being knocked out of his lungs.

As they had reached the top of the cliff and had begun to fall once again, Sasuke had found himself face to face with Naruto. The rushing wind had caused tufts of his blond hair to float around his head like rays of sunshine, and the proximity had allowed Sasuke to see the faint freckles on his nose again.

Sasuke hadn’t seen them clearly since their first kiss several months ago.

Before they had been assigned to the same team, before their almost disastrous mission to the Land of Waves, and before Naruto had become his rival.

Sasuke wanted to kiss Naruto again.

Subtly tilting his head, Sasuke captured Naruto’s lips in a sudden kiss. The physical sensation was similar—a painful banging of teeth and the feeling of chapped skin pressed against his own. It wasn’t the firework of emotion or rush of adrenaline that he had partially expected.

Neither of them made a move to pull away as they continued to fall, separated only by their plunge into the river.

A new wave of frustration rolled over Sasuke as he emerged from the water. Why hadn’t he felt anything? This kiss was supposed to be different. Although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Sasuke considered Naruto his friend, someone he cared about. Surely he would have felt something.

“Why do I always end up kissing you?” Sasuke hissed irritably.

“Took the words right outta my mouth,” Naruto said.

3.

Between training with Orochimaru, confronting his brother, and stopping a war, Sasuke hadn’t had the time nor desire to entertain any thoughts of romance, much less kissing.

Vengeance and hate had clouded his vision for so long that he had forgotten what the world looked like without them. Naruto had fought to save him, to understand him, and as they lay at the remains of the Valley of the End, Sasuke knew that he had been horribly wrong. The bond he had tried to sever all those years ago was a part of him; he needed Naruto just as much as the idiot needed him. Sasuke didn’t believe in the concept of soulmates, romantic or otherwise, but looking into Naruto’s eyes filled with so much genuine care and acceptance, he truly felt that they were made for each other.

Or perhaps Naruto was made for him. The only thing Sasuke had done was hurt him time and time again.

Sasuke didn’t deserve to be saved, least of all by his stupidly loyal friend.

But the war had ended, and now Sasuke was left to pick up the pieces of everything he had thrown away without a second thought.

Kakashi and Sakura had assured him that he had their support. Although they hadn’t believed that he would return with the unwavering certainty that Naruto had, they were willing to forgive him. A rush of emotion had overcome Sasuke when they had welcomed him back. Team Seven had been his family when he had been young and angry and so very lonely.

The rest of the village would accept him with time, Naruto had said.

Time.

It would take time to heal, to rebuild bonds, to forgive Konoha, but Sasuke wasn’t alone anymore. Naruto wouldn’t let him shoulder it all by himself.

Not that he had much time to himself since their final battle. After the crowded hospital room, Sasuke had spent a week with the Konoha Torture and Interrogation Force before being pardoned. The flurry of events was finally dying down when Sasuke found himself staying in Naruto’s small apartment.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Naruto said.

Situated at the table, Sasuke could hear Naruto humming lightheartedly as he single-handedly prepared two bowls of ramen, clad only in an old t-shirt and boxers. For someone who had been through so much, he looked inexplicably happy.

Steam curled up from the nearly overflowing bowl Naruto set in front of him. A moment later, he returned with his own bowl and took the seat across from Sasuke.

“You better eat all of it, you hear? I’ve been saving this limited edition ramen for a special occasion!”

“This is hardly a special occasion,” Sasuke said, blowing on the noodles gripped between his chopsticks.

Naruto had already taken his first bite and swallowed before speaking. “Of course it is! Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to eat ramen with you again?”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been saving this particular ramen for four years.”

A light kick under the table was Naruto’s response. “Shut up and eat.”

Comfortable silence descended upon them as they ate, only broken by the sounds of slurped noodles. The flavor wasn’t bad—a tad too spicy, but better than Sasuke had expected considering the chef. Sasuke acknowledged that Naruto had become a formidable ninja, but those skills didn’t necessarily transfer to the kitchen.

The scene felt oddly domestic, peaceful in a way Sasuke hadn’t experienced since he lost his family.

“It still feels weird,” Naruto said, looking up from his empty bowl. “Missing an arm, I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Good thing I’m right-handed and you’re left, or else this would be really weird.”

Sasuke set down his chopsticks. “I’m not.”

“What?”

“I’m not left-handed, idiot.”

“But you use your left hand for chidori, and—”

Naruto’s face twisted in confusion, and Sasuke couldn’t help but laugh at how scandalized he looked. For a moment, the only sound in the warmly lit kitchen was Sasuke’s soft laughter, which had abruptly cut off any further objections from Naruto.

“Why are you laughing?” Naruto asked.

“Because you’ve chased after me for years and offered to die with me, but you didn’t even know something so basic.” Not that Sasuke had ever told Naruto he was ambidextrous. Sasuke never said much at all back then.

Naruto scoffed. “So you’re not left-handed.”

“No. I do use my left hand for chidori, but I have preferences for different activities,” Sasuke said. “I like to punch with my left hand, but I hold my sword in my right. I also write with my right hand.”

“You should do this more often.” The defensive look from before had melted into a fond smile.

“Do what?”

“Tell me about yourself.” Naruto scratched the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “It’s just—we never really talked like this back then, you know. You’re my friend, and I don’t know what your favorite color is, or what you like to eat, or if you have any hobbies.”

There was that word again. Friend. What did Naruto mean when he called Sasuke his friend? “Well, my favorite color is blue. I like eating okaka onigiri. I didn’t really have any hobbies besides training, but sometimes I take walks.”

“Can I go with you next time?”

“If you want.” Sasuke shrugged. “But it’s my turn to ask a question.”

Naruto nodded, his eyes brimming with curiosity. A lot had changed; Naruto had grown from a loudmouthed, immature brat into a hero. He was still noisy and reckless, but he was also loyal and kind and good. Too good for someone as fucked up as Sasuke.

“What did you mean?” Sasuke asked. “When you…”

A flash of recognition crossed Naruto’s features, and Sasuke knew he didn’t have to elaborate.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Naruto said. “What do you want it to mean?”

“I don’t know.”

Sasuke had thought about it countless times since their first fight at the Valley of the End. What did it mean when someone refused to give up on you? When someone stayed despite all your efforts to push them away? When someone was willing to throw away everything so you would no longer be alone?

“Back then, at the Academy,” Naruto began, “I was jealous. I was jealous that all the girls liked you, even though you never even gave them the time of day. But it wasn’t just that. I was upset because I wanted to be closer to you.”

“Sakura—”

“I liked her, but I think… I think I liked you, too.”

Naruto… had liked him? Like he had liked Sakura?

“And I guess you deserve to know that the kiss wasn’t a complete accident,” he admitted with a sheepish grin.

But why hadn’t he…?

“I liked you, but you were just so infuriating, you know. It was easier to pretend that we were just rivals, and that I was only interested in Sakura.”

Sasuke shook his head, unable to stop the blush from staining his cheeks. “You’re a dumbass.”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“At the waterfall,” Sasuke said, “when our hands were stuck together. That wasn’t an accident either.”

Naruto’s eyes widened in shock as he shot out of his chair, practically leaping over the table and barely avoiding his empty bowl. “What?”

“I was confused about what I felt, and I thought that kissing you might help me figure it out. But then I was just frustrated when I didn’t feel anything,” Sasuke said.

As quickly as he had sprung up, Naruto deflated at Sasuke’s confession. “Oh…”

“Do you still like me? Even after…”

“Yes,” Naruto responded instantly. “Even after everything, especially after everything, and even if you don’t feel the same way, I still like you. And, honestly, I think I might be in love with you.”

Love. Naruto was possibly in love with him of all people.

Sasuke sat with his lips slightly parted, unsure of what to say. He took in Naruto’s earnest demeanor, the soft smile on his face contrasting with the wetness threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes. “I don’t know if I can love you. Like that, I mean. At least not right now,” he said. “But I think I might. Love you, eventually.”

“Sasuke…”

“You’ve always been different. At first, I just thought you were annoying, but you were always trying to talk to me, and some of your antics would make me laugh even when I didn’t want to. Then we were on the same team, and there was that mission in the Land of Waves. My body really did move on its own back then, when those needles were coming at you. Revenge had been everything to me, but at that moment, I was prepared to die. And it confused me because I had never felt something like that before. I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling. I didn’t have any friends in the Academy, and I was never interested in anyone. So when I kissed you again at the waterfall and nothing clicked, I was angry. Then Orochimaru came along, and all I could think about was getting stronger. I tried to forget everything else, but you kept on chasing after me. Even when everyone else gave up, and even when I was ready to give up on myself,” Sasuke confessed.

“I’m still not sure what it is I feel, but I do know that right now, I really want to kiss you.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Naruto flew from his seat a second time, crossing the space between them faster than what should have been humanly possible to stand beside Sasuke.

Any awkwardness Sasuke might’ve felt as he stood to face Naruto was washed away as Naruto’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him into an embrace. The warmth of Naruto’s chest pressed flush against his own left Sasuke breathless. He had been close to Naruto before, had felt the warmth of his body, but this was new.

“Bastard,” Naruto whispered, his breath tickling the skin of Sasuke’s neck. “You should know by now that I’ll wait, however long it takes.”

“I know.”

“Even if you realize that you don’t feel the same, we’ll always be friends.”

“I know,” Sasuke said, his voice wavering as he buried his face in Naruto’s shoulder, arm reaching up to return the embrace. “I’m sorry.”

Naruto loosened his hold, pulling back enough to meet Sasuke’s teary gaze with his own. “For what?”

“You have it all figured out, and I still can’t give you an answer after—”

“It’s okay,” Naruto cut him off. “I told you that I’d wait.”

Sasuke nodded. “You really are an idiot.”

Neither of them moved for what felt like ages. The comforting glow of Naruto’s kitchen might as well have been another universe as Sasuke sawhim for the first time since that day at the waterfall. All traces of baby fat had melted away, leaving behind a boyishly handsome face framed by tufts of sunshine blond hair. His hair was longer than Sasuke remembered, but the length suited Naruto. The faint freckles spanning the bridge of his nose were still present, and Sasuke wondered how many people had been close enough to see them since he had been gone.

“Can I…?” Naruto asked, his eyes fixed on Sasuke’s lips.

Smiling, Sasuke leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to Naruto’s mouth. It was unlike their previous kisses; there was no clashing of teeth or tensed muscles or wide eyes. Affection and something else blossomed in Sasuke’s chest at the sight of Naruto beaming in delight.

It would take time, but Sasuke was sure that he could love him.

#naruto #sns #narusasu #sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki #.txt

[spicynbachili1]

10 years on, here’s how Dead Space went from horror to action horror in three games

The primary Lifeless House turned 10 years outdated final month. It took me a month to get via the primary two hours once I first performed it. Each time I jumped again in and clumped down one of many USG Ishimura’s darkish corridors, a monster would come out of the vents and I’d bounce up, smash the pause button and discover an excuse to do anything however play it. Many followers liked that sense of dread, however for some gamers it was just too worrying.

“All our knowledge confirmed the primary motive folks purchased Lifeless House was that it was scary,” says Ian Milham, who was developer Visceral Video games’ artwork director on the time. “And the primary motive folks didn’t purchase Lifeless House was that it was scary.”

It was a dilemma that, in response to Milham and Lifeless House three inventive director Ben Wanat, would assist form the transformation of the trilogy. What started as a lonely, tense horror sequence slowly grew to become extra wedded to explosive set items. Although Lifeless House three was nonetheless a horror recreation, it had a co-op marketing campaign, highly effective machine weapons and canopy capturing.

And because the pair explains to me, the concern that it was too scary wasn’t the one issue driving change: writer tradition, a want to inform a extra full story, and sharpening tough edges all performed a component.

Lifeless House got here out of the blue. On the time, Visceral Video games had been known as EA Redwood Shores, and had been most well-known for making film tie-ins. “The sport I used to be engaged on earlier than Lifeless House was From Russia With Love, the James Bond licensed product,” says Wanat, who was then a manufacturing designer. “So in fact we jumped on the likelihood to do one thing of our personal making.” He calls it a “miracle” that EA permitted it, however provides that numerous studios had been creating new IPs, which could clarify the writer’s eagerness.

In a approach, time and price range constraints helped Lifeless House. Wanat says the staff “weren’t able to doing something extravagant”, however that meant they might think about one thing extra private and smaller, with plenty of hand-crafted moments. I’ll always remember the scene the place Isaac comes throughout a mutated lady vivisecting one among her former colleagues.

The slow-paced horror and claustrophobic environments clicked with followers. It was, nonetheless, too scary for some folks, which is one thing horror recreation lover Wanat didn’t anticipate. “I used to be stunned as to how many individuals had been concurrently within the franchise, however you’d ask them in case you completed enjoying it and so they’d say ‘Hell no, I solely acquired midway via the primary stage.’ So we did our job in that we scared them, however they by no means performed the sport.”

Each Wanat and Milham each say that Visceral didn’t got down to make Lifeless House 2 much less scary, nevertheless it ended up that approach all the identical. It’s a lot horrifying in locations, and nonetheless makes me bounce, nevertheless it’s much less tense, and its bigger locales and frequent motion sequences make it really feel much less claustrophobic.

The goal for Lifeless House 2 was primarily to make a greater, extra polished model of Lifeless House, and hope that it might attain a bigger viewers. “I suppose the speculation was that if we made it adequate, we’d persuade the holdouts to leap in,” Milham says. “There wasn’t an intention to decrease ‘peak horror’ because it had been, however positively we wished to modulate it and have extra selection, in order that the horror moments stayed more energizing and the gamers didn’t fatigue.”

The pattern amongst builders on the time was to create flashy cinematic moments like these in Uncharted 2, which got here out through the improvement of Lifeless House 2. The Visceral staff known as them “epic moments”, and wished to verify Lifeless House 2 was filled with them.

Trying again, Wanat says he needs they hadn’t tried so exhausting. “It virtually felt like as builders we had been chasing after sure tendencies,” he tells me, citing a scene by which Isaac is shot at by a gunship, chased by a necromorph and sucked into house earlier than, lastly, all the things blows up and he’s pulled again into the house station. “The entire sequence is pure spectacle, and actually had completely nothing to do with the story.”

The staff additionally wished to “spruce up the controls”, which some gamers complained felt clunky within the first recreation. Isaac grew to become extra agile, and his animations had been sped up. In addition they wished to inform extra of a narrative, which meant having a tighter grip on pacing and introducing extra characters, says Milham.

A mix of all these adjustments, together with shifts in personnel at Visceral bringing in new concepts, began Lifeless House down the street to being extra of an motion recreation, says Wanat. “It’s inevitable in any lengthy operating franchise you’ll get these tonal adjustments that happen. I want the extra private and scary aspect of the primary one, however I additionally respect the pacing and polish of the second and third.”

But when the staff weren’t intentionally dialling again the horror in Lifeless House 2, they had been actually contemplating it for Lifeless House three. Regardless of the staff feeling Lifeless House 2 was a greater, extra polished recreation in practically each approach, it offered about the identical as the primary recreation whereas costing slightly extra to make. Doing the identical for Lifeless House three “wasn’t an choice”: the staff needed to discover a approach to usher in a wider viewers, and they also determined to construct it for co-op from the bottom up.

Milham, who left the staff after pre-production of Lifeless House three, says the speculation was that gamers who “may’ve been intimidated by the scare issue might play with a good friend”. Wanat provides that it was additionally a mirrored image of the place the trade was going on the time: publishers had been shifting in direction of multiplayer to attempt to develop their viewers, and EA wished to do the identical.

You possibly can play Lifeless House three in singleplayer, however all of the mechanics had been designed for 2 gamers. To Wanat, it felt like a daring step, and he says that different co-op video games on the time hadn’t absolutely “wrapped co-op into the story”. That was his objective.

He admits the co-op swap meant dropping a number of the “little moments” that he had so liked within the authentic Lifeless House. By ramping up the scope of the sport to accommodate two gamers, each in particular person environments and the general recreation world, smaller particulars had been misplaced. “That’d in all probability be one of many larger regrets, dropping too lots of these moments,” he says. “The little moments have an effect on you extra deeply, scar you extra… while you’re coping with massive scope you lose numerous them alongside the way in which.”

It was additionally more durable to arrange scripted moments, as a result of it’s tough to verify two gamers are each trying in the proper place on the proper time. These moments had been changed with useful resource gathering, puzzle fixing and fight. Isaac’s arsenal grew to become heavier, and he might take cowl. I loved the capturing, particularly once I performed it co-op, nevertheless it undoubtedly eliminated a lot of the rigidity that had been the premise for the horror within the first recreation.

The story was additionally a much bigger level of emphasis in Lifeless House three. Wanat took over the inventive path after Lifeless House 2, and says his love of narrative meant he wished to dig into the lore of the universe. If Lifeless House 1 and a couple of requested you to outlive towards waves of mutated horribles, Lifeless House three requested: why are they right here, and why are you combating them? Wanat tells me the staff suspected it might be the final within the sequence as a result of EA had better-performing franchises on their books, so he was decided to “put a bow on it”. Though it ends on a cliff-hanger, it actually resolves a number of the questions that arose through the first two.

Wanat additionally feels the staff didn’t profit from co-op. The standout moments of Lifeless House three had been the “dementia” scenes, by which one participant hallucinates and sees one thing totally different to their co-op companion. It led to moments the place you’d have to clarify to your good friend what you had been seeing, and check out to determine which bits had been actual. It felt contemporary, however the staff solely absolutely grasped how you can use it successfully late on within the course of. “If we had time and price range to go additional, I believe we might’ve made one thing very highly effective out of that.” He cites the famously repetitive PT as how video games can create unease by subtly altering their environments, and says he’d have appreciated to use the idea to co-op on a bigger scale in Lifeless House three. “You would virtually make a complete recreation out of that concept. You and your companion usually are not experiencing the identical factor… Go!”

All of those components meant that Lifeless House three misplaced “a number of the authentic pillars, a number of the horror points” of the unique, Wanat says. He needs that all through the sequence he might’ve captured extra of a way of “dread” — of an impending, unstoppable doom. It was most pronounced within the first recreation, and Lifeless House three’s snowy setting might’ve been a superb time to convey it again, however then “you give Isaac a machine gun and also you make it higher and higher, and abruptly it’s very tough to get again to the pure horror expertise.”

Each Wanat and Milham are pleased with what they produced, and it’s clear that they’re each nonetheless keen about Isaac Clarke’s journey. Milham, who left EA for Tomb Raider builders Crystal Dynamics in 2016 and who now works at digital results powerhouse ILM, says he’d like to make one other Lifeless House recreation. “The best way ahead can be to remain important to what the sequence needs to be: private, important, stuffed with ambiance, and attempt to make that work with a price range and energy that is smart.” Wanat, who additionally joined and stays at Crystal Dynamics, says one thing comparable about what he’d do if he might return: “take all of the tips we learnt for polish, however apply them on a extra private stage, making a extra private and affecting expertise.” Possibly someday they’ll get one other likelihood, however for now, we’ll need to make do with what they left behind. Which isn’t so unhealthy in any respect.

from SpicyNBAChili.com http://spicymoviechili.spicynbachili.com/10-years-on-heres-how-dead-space-went-from-horror-to-action-horror-in-three-games/

[dracimalfoy1988292]

(ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 45: ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ)

18

It was late night/early morning when Valentine heard a rustling in her room. Assuming it was a restless Macey, she turned over, moving to grow more comfortable and pulling the covers higher up on her shoulders. She was groggy and drool pooled around her lips, but she pushed hair from her eyes as she heard the rustling grow louder.

Sitting up, she heard a loud 'clank' then a "shit" and Valentine hastily turned to her bedside table, switching on the lamp.

Valentine shot straight up, rapidly rubbing sleep from her eyes, and she wasn't sure the person perched at the end of her bed was actually there.

Black hair askew and eyes wide, Celia was leant over her trunk, her mouth open and wand in hand.10

"What in the mother of Merlin are you doing here? Why- why are in digging I my stuff?" Valentine demanded, and Celia stood up straight and slammed the top of the trunk. The Slytherin turned and raced for the door, and Valentine made a face.

"Celia, are you and Regulus-,"

Celia slammed the dorm door, and the girls in the other beds woke, looking around and squinting at the light.

"Is Peeves in here or something?" Macey grumbled.

"Uhhhhhh," Valentine trailed off. "No."

"What was that noise, then?"

"What noise?"

"That noise?"

"I don't hear anything."

Macey looked at Valentine skeptically before she lowered back down to the bed, rolling her eyes.

Valentine paused before crawling out her covers and looking at the foot of her bed, where her trunk was pushed open and her things had been moved around messily, displaying random trinkets.

What had she been looking for?

Valentine tried to ponder over what exactly Celia would go through the trouble of breaking into the Hufflepuff common room in the middle of the night. She hadn't been over near Macey, and all Valentine could think she may have would be....

The story book.

Valentine pulled her eyebrows into a thin line before she laid flat against her bed and pushed around folded clothes and books, stopping when she found the one she'd accidentally taken from Celia after their argument before Christmas.

Heaving the heavy book into her lap, she moved back and rested against her headboard, opening the book, wondering why it was so important to Celia.

Her still asleep fingers moved through papers, reading multiple words as they flashed by in the light. She stopped at once when a slip of parchment fell from the book, making a whistling sound as it landed limply onto the duvet.

Valentine hesitated before she closed the book and set it to the side, picking up the note. On the paper was small, water drop stains, almost like tears, that sunk into the paper and turned it crinkly.

Valentine gently opened it, running her fingers over the creases. Thin, cursive handwriting was written neatly, and Valentine, who at first felt guilty, decided to read it anyways.

Cecelia Tomsky,

You're an abomination. I've been informed by the Nott's of your partaking in a friendship with a filthy mud blood. If that hadn't shocked me enough, I've also been made aware of the fact you're sexually involved with a female.6

I expect you terminate all interactions with these two, dare I say, Hufflepuffs, and if you fail to do so, I will terminate it myself.

No words can express the utter disappointment I feel for you, and it pains me to even call you my daughter. I cannot think back to a single time me nor your father has gone wrong in raising you; we've supplied you with everything you could dream, and somehow you still manage to tarnish our family name.1

You will receive punishments when you return home for the holidays, and it will bring me joy to enforce new rules, no matter the blood that will be split burning them into your brain.

The date of our meeting with the Dark Lord has been moved up, and I hope you're prepared to meet him soon. You do your best to not embarrass us anymore than you have, and everything shall go fine.2

To make this situation with this Womper girl go dismissed, I will have you meeting Regulus Black and his family. I believe he is in the year below you, and I expect you to be on your best behavior when you meet your new betrothed. You will be quiet and respectful, therefore proving your worthiness as a wife, where you shall keep quiet and work in the kitchen as you tend to the children.

If you believe I'm handling this news terribly, I won't even begin to explain how your father feels. You best apologize to him as soon as you step off that train. You're made to be a proper wife married to a proper man, and I expect nothing less.

Do not disappoint us more than you've managed to do so, Cecelia. There will be consequences.

Mother.

7

Valentine had to re-read the letters several times to fully digest the words. An anchor latched to her chest, pulling at her heartstrings dangerously so. Her lips quivered and her hands shook, blood pumping in her ears. Several thoughts rampaged in her head and guilt sunk deeply into place.

Celia had needed them the most, and Macey nor Valentine had been there for her.2

It made sense, now. Everything so painfully made sense. Celia was forced into a relationship with Regulus Black. Her parents were total dicks. And she had no choice but to ruin everything with Macey and Valentine.4

And Valentine had blamed her. She'd been so self absorbed and selfish to even ask Celia if she was okay. She couldn't help but feel at fault.

Valentine bit her bottom lip. Celia must've come in here to take the book back in hopes Valentine wouldn't figure out everything.

But what alarmed Valentine the most was the meeting mentioned with He Who Must Not Be Named.

1

________________________

VALENTINE WATCHED MACEY TENTATIVELY through her lashes, leg bouncing against the ground. They sat in the common room, and Valentine had waited to show her the letter until the sun had risen and they were in privacy.

Macey slowly sat down the paper and I saw her tongue graze her teeth, eyes glazed over and vacant.

"We need to talk to her," Valentine whispered, careful that no one around heard their conversation.

"No one can know. It isn't safe for her. Not Dumbledore, not James, not anyone. We need to protect her."

Valentine nodded in agreement. She suddenly didn't feel like a teenager anymore, but an adult with real life issues... ones that sucked. Sucked for her, sucked for Macey, and sucked royal ass for Celia.2

"Should we go get her?" Valentine suggested.

"I'm not even sure where she might me," Macey admits, rubbing her forehead. "There's no chance we can get into the Slytherin common room."

Valentine swallowed a lump in her throat. "Actually, I think I know something we could do."

Macey drew her eyebrows into a line and met her gaze. "Which is?"

Valentine ran her hand through her curled hair, abruptly standing and darting up the stairs into her dorm. She bent over and wedged her nail into a loose tile on the floor, pulling up the board and managing to withdrawal a flask kept tucked away.

With the object tightly held in her hand, Valentine ran back downstairs, reclaiming her spot on the couch.

"Val, I don't think getting plastered is gonna help-,"

Valentine shook her hear, shushing the girl. "I'm not entirely sure if polyjuice potion expires. If it does, let's hope it doesn't have any nasty side effects."

Macey's mouth parted. "I cannot believe this. Why would you save that shit?"9

"For instances like this," Valentine shrugged. "This is what we're gonna do. I'm gonna-," she paused, stifling a gag at the thought of drinking it. "I'm gonna drink this and go grab Celia. The only place I can think of to take her to is the Room of Requirements. Meet you there?"

Macey, for the first time today, grinned. The two escorted each other into a closet located off the main hall, and Valentine plugged her nose, taking a generous sip of the potion.

It gurgled in her throat and coated her tongue in a slick, chunky liquid. She bit her lip and forced it down, feeling her skin heat up and body begin to metamorphosis until her body stretched taller and lankier, hair short and dark, strands greasy.

Macey handed the green robes to Valentine, a pair that Celia had left behind after one of their many rendezvous.

"How do I look?" Valentine finally asked, smoothing her robes down.

Macey winced. "Disgusting. Repulsive. Slimy. Bitchy. Gross."

"Okay, perfect."8

From there, Valentine subtly slipped from the cramped closet space and into the hall, turning her lips up in a replica of Snape's face. She only wished she wouldn't run into the real Severus. That might be... awkward.

Valentine, luckily, knew her way to the Slytherin common room, and she was just turning to near the dungeons when she heard several footsteps.

"Oi, Snivellus! You're walking odd. Did that stick that's stuck up your arse manage grow?"

Valentine slowed and held her breath, slowly turning around, bracing herself as she faced the Marauders. Remus looked bored, slouched with his hands in his pockets. Sirius was the one that had spoken, hands shoved in his pockets. James had an arm slung across Sirius' shoulders, a lazy grin on his face, and Peter mumbled something to Remus from behind.

"No."

Valentine immediately regretted what she had said.

"No?" James finally dared. "Are you feeling alright, Snivellus? You're looking worse than usual, and that says something. In fact, it's beginning to hurt my eyes. Do you think you could turn around?"

Valentine felt slightly bad. She knew it wasn't directed at her but, wether in her body or not, she didn't take insults lightly.1

"If my face is hurting your eyes, then take off your glasses, genius. You're bloodly blind as a bat without them."

The Marauders exchanged a look before laughing out loud.4

"You sure know a lot about me, Snivelly. Did you fall out of love with poor Evans and into love with me? Sorry to say, but I'm spoken for."

Valentine grinned. The sight unnerved James and he squirmed at seeing Snape smile.

"The only thing I'm going to fall off is a cliff if I have to continue this conversation any longer," Valentine quipped. She'd never been intentionally cruel to someone before; but she felt privileged to act like an arse without anyone knowing it was actually her.

This is a really good anger release idea.6

Valentine turned and retreated, leaving the four boys behind her. She picked up her pace, fully aware that she'd only had a small portion of the polyjuice potion, therefore it would wear off sooner.

Once she'd finally entered, quite literally, the snake den, she made a beeline for the girls dorm.

"What're you doing, Severus? Have you got a little girlfriend up there?" Mulciber spoke up, antagonizing her with his eyes.

"Maybe so. Either way, it's one more than you've got, isn't it?"2

Valentine mentally applauded herself and finished ascending the stairs, pushing open the dorm room. Other than Penelope Parkinson, Celia was the only other inhibitor, and she was laying across her bed reading a book.

Valentine inhaled sharply before approaching Celia, closing the book in her hands.

"What in the hell are you doing, Snape?"

"Shut your face and come with me," Valentine demanded, earning an odd look from both girls. "Well, have you gone completely deaf? Get off your arse and come with me!"

Celia remained and stared at her. "I would watch my mouth if I were you, Snape."

Valentine pursed her- his- lips. "On your feet before this situation evolves more than it needs to, Cecelia."

A flash of recognition and fear sparked in those emerald green eyes before she grumbled, finally standing. Following behind Valentine and ignoring the questions for Avery and Mulciber, they marched up the stairs and onto the seventh floor.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but I suggest you have a perfectly good reason for stealing me from my person time."

Valentine ignored Celia's complains and shoved the Slytherin into the room of Requirements when they came across it. She stumbled before looking around. As soon as she noticed an anxious Macey, she turned around to leave, only her face collided with Valentine/Snape's chest.

Celia groaned, rubbing her nose. "What the hell is this!"

Macey stood and threw the letter into Celia's chest.

"I don't know, what the hell is this?" Macey repeated Celia's words.

The dark-haired girl paled, eyes widening at the sight of the letter. Then she seemed to realize the situation, depicting it was Valentine- of course, she used the remnants of last years potion.

"You weren't supposed to see this," Celia denied nervously. "I need to go."

Valentine blocked the door, standing up against it. "Sit down and talk."

Celia swallowed and shook her head rapidly. "No, I can't. You don't understand, I need to go."1

"Celia," Macey whispered, harshness gone from her voice. "Please."

Celia closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. She relished in those words- the kind, gentle words that Macey so often would say. Wether Macey said them to encourage her, or to be mumbled against her hair as their bodies became one; Celia longed for it. But it was out of grasp.

"There isn't anything to say! I can't- I want nothing to do with you. Either of you."

"I won't accept that," Valentine interjected. She could feel Severus' features slowly beginning to melt off her face.

"You never can, can you, Valentine? You can never accept that you can't fix everything! You can't fix me!"

Macey sighed. "We don't want to fix you, Celia! We just want you back!"

"Has it ever occurred to you, perhaps, that I don't want to be back? Why would I willingly hang out with two disgraceful people- I mean, look at you!"3

Celia spit venomous words out as she pointed an accusing finger at Valentine. "You're a mud blood that has no future. You're an abomination to the wizarding world, and soon enough your kind will be killed off."

Valentine was rendered speechless as Celia whirled to Macey.

"And you- you think I ever cared about you? I was made to be with a man. To procreate and marry. How could I- how would I ever love you? What a pathetic girl you are. You've been fooled. I never cared for either of you, and I never will," Celia raged through clenched teeth. Her face read fury; the kind of fury so plainly clear it hurt to look at. It was almost as if the smoldering fire in her eyes was hot enough to burn them without any contact at all.

"Funny coming from you, some prejudiced Slytherin who only cares for herself!" Macey fired back. "This was all pretend, then? A scheme to humiliate us?"1

"Did you truly believe it was anything more? Did you actuallly think I loved you? That I wanted to be your friend?" Celia growled.

Valentine's surprise was long since forgotten, washed away from foamy waves and instead she was left with damp, gritty sand. The granules seemed to glue their self to her robes, her eyes, her mouth, until all she saw, breathed, and felt was cold pressure and undeniable sadness.

Valentine was mad, now. Celia was lying, that much was clear. Taking a defiant step closer, she clutched Celia's arm in her hand, and Valentine ripped up the sleeve of her robe.

The room went quiet other than labored, stressful breathing. Engraved in all its beauty, was the dark mark, lines forever imprinted into her chalky skin. It spread up the length of her forearm, the skull standing out against the snaking, purple veins. Macey turned green at the sight of the Dark Lords symbol.3

Celia, who was more embarrassed and flustered, raised her hand, and slapped Valentine across the face; hard. A red imprint was left on her cheek, blossoming with pain and heat. Valentine clutched where she'd been hit, her mouth agape and body shaking in both fear and fury.

"You have no right," Celia spit.

Valentine stared at the stranger. She slowly lowered her hand, letting Celia see the mark she'd left behind.

"You want to destroy yourself? You want to become a monster? Fine," Macey's voice trembled. "But don't expect me to stand by and watch it happen."

Valentine moved, granting her friend access to the door, which she exited out quickly.

Valentine took Celia's hand in hers, shaking her head slightly to deny what she knew. A shaky tear fell down her cheek.

Celia's eyes remained impassive, a void of emotion. Valentine former words, though they tasted sour on her tongue.

"You're not as evil as people think you are," Valentine whispered, voice breaking.

Celia's hand shook slightly, but she yanked it away without a second thought.

"No," she said lowly. "I'm much worse."

5

_______________________

VALENTINE HEADED STRAIGHT James. It was funny to think that at the beginning of her fifth year she barely knew him; how he was her anchor. When she was sad, or needed comforting, she went to him. When she was happy, it was because of him.

It was just him.4

She'd entered the common room with tears already on her cheek. James, who had been thrown out on the common room couch while arguing about quidditch teams with Peter, saw her and instantly shot up, ushering her upstairs.

He'd closed the door behind her, and with the lighting much better in the room, he could see the distinctive slap mark on her cheek.

He grit his teeth, taking her face between his hands. He brushed his thumb softly over the mark, his eyes hard.

"Who did this to you?" He demanded, voice hard as steel.3

Valentine didn't answer, though, and she instead wiggled from his grasp and collapsed onto his bed, kicking off her shoes and pulling his blankets above her body, searching for warmth in such a cold world.

She noticed her copy of 'Romeo and Juliet' on his nightstand.

"Read to me," she pleaded, watching as James' eyes softened. "Please."1

And he held her close, just as she asked, reading beginning through end of a story of two people who loved so much that they would die before living in a world without each other.

[danithebookaholic-blog]

REVIEWS! - MYSTERY THRILLERS

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

I love a good mystery-thriller! I enjoy trying to workout the mystery on my own before I read what really happen, then there’s nothing quite like the thrill of a good thriller! This week’s review is all about the chase, the questions, and the anticipation of what will happen next with Mystery and Thrillers!

The line up for this mystifying thrill ride:

📚Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen’s An Anonymous Girl (2019 Adult Thriller) 📚Jon Ronson’s The Last Days of August (2019 True Crime Audio Book) 📚Jane Corry’s My Husband’s Wife (2017 Psychological Thriller) 📚Lisa Gardner’s Right Behind You (2017 Mystery Thriller)

From one bookaholic to another, I hope I’ve helped you find your next fix. —Dani

An Anonymous Girl 

By Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen

Publication Date: January 8, 2019 Genre: Adult, Mystery, Thriller

Synopsis:

The next novel of psychological suspense and obsession from the authors of the blockbuster bestseller The Wife Between Us.

Seeking women ages 18–32 to participate in a study on ethics and morality. Generous compensation. Anonymity guaranteed.

When Jessica Farris signs up for a psychology study conducted by the mysterious Dr. Shields, she thinks all she’ll have to do is answer a few questions, collect her money, and leave.

Question #1: Could you tell a lie without feeling guilt?

But as the questions grow more and more intense and invasive and the sessions become outings where Jess is told what to wear and how to act, she begins to feel as though Dr. Shields may know what she’s thinking… and what she’s hiding.

Question #2: Have you ever deeply hurt someone you care about?

As Jess’s paranoia grows, it becomes clear that she can no longer trust what in her life is real, and what is one of Dr. Shields’ manipulative experiments. Caught in a web of deceit and jealousy, Jess quickly learns that some obsessions can be deadly.

Question #3: Should a punishment always fit the crime?

From the authors of the blockbuster bestseller The Wife Between Us comes an electrifying new novel about doubt, passion, and just how much you can trust someone.  

Purchase:

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / Google Play / IndieBound

Review:

 Before reading Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen’s An Anonymous Girl, I had read several reviews stating that it was ‘Overrated’ and ‘Not up to all of the hype’ everyone was giving it. Let me say, that if you, too, have read these reviews then please note that you should take them as a grain of salt and toss them over your shoulder! I wish I hadn’t waited so long to pick it up!

Could you tell a lie without feeling guilt? Have you ever deeply hurt someone you care about? Should a punishment always fit a crime?

An Anonymous Girl is a fantastic psychological thriller that will have you not only sitting on the edge of your seat until the very end, but will also have you questioning your own morals. Fans of Caroline Kepnes’s You will instantly gravitate to Dr. Shields’s subtly creepy obsession with Subject 52, Jessica Farris, and the hope that she “could become a pioneer in the field of psychological research.”

An Anonymous Girl is rife with mysteries and psychological conundrums. Just when you think that you have finally figured things out, Dr. Shields is not only two steps ahead of Jessica, but ahead of you, too! Minuscule details about doubt, passion and trust, add up to one final test for Jessica, and an ending that you’ll never see coming!

 Dani's Score out of 5: 📚📚📚📚📚

Audio Book Review

The Last Days of August 

By Jon Ronson

Publication Date: January 3, 2019 Genre: Non-Fiction, True Crime, Mystery, Journalism, Biography, Abuse

Synopsis:

In December 2017 the famous porn star August Ames committed suicide in a park in the Conejo Valley. It happened a day after she’d been the victim of a pile-on, via Twitter, by fellow porn professionals - punishment for her tweeting something deemed homophobic. 

A month later, August’s husband, Kevin, connected with Jon Ronson to tell the story of how Twitter bullying killed his wife. What neither Kevin nor Ronson realized was that Ronson would soon hear rumors and secrets hinting at a very different story - something mysterious and unexpected and terrible. 

In The Last Days of August, Ronson unravels the never-before-told story of what caused this beloved 23-year-old actress’ untimely death.

Purchase:

Audible Original

Review:

I thought the idea of this book was great and I loved that it was in a podcast formatting almost.  Everything was done really well, including the 'investigation,' but my biggest problem was that I felt the story, like August's life, ended too abruptly; there was no conclusion, no end other than what we know from the beginning: August is dead. I know that at the very beginning, Jon Ronson plainly and clearly states that this is not a murder mystery, but seeing how the whole story goes in that direction, I would have liked a better conclusion, one that didn't leave me feeling like I dangling off the edge of a cliff.

 Dani's Score out of 5: 📚📚📚

My Husband’s Wife 

By Jane Corry

Publication Date: January 31, 2017 Genre: Mystery, Thriller, Psychological, Suspense

Synopsis:

 When young lawyer Lily marries Ed, she’s determined to make a fresh start and leave the secrets of the past behind. But then she takes on her first murder case and meets Joe, a convicted murderer to whom Lily is strangely drawn—and for whom she will soon be willing to risk almost anything.

But Lily is not the only one with secrets. Her next-door neighbor Carla may be only nine, but she has already learned that secrets are powerful things. That they can get her whatever she wants.

When Lily finds Carla on her doorstep twelve years later, a chain of events is set in motion that can end only one way.

Purchase:

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / IndieBound

Review:

I am 100% done with this book and I’m still not sure how I really feel about it. The writing was done very well, and made you think, but it also became dull and boring on more than one occasion, taking the thrill out of “thriller.” It’s definitely more of a crime-mystery than a mystery-thriller.

Jane Corry’s My Husband’s Wife was an interesting story that had many different components that needed to be there to make the ending workout in the way that it did. While reading it, I kept wondering why on earth a certain character was in the book at all other than to add some drama to the current scene. Turns out, that character ends up playing a pretty vital role in the end results. Another character I was just completely annoyed with the entire book and kept wondering when Corry was going to kill them off (I hoped and prayed, they annoyed me so much!) But turns out, they, too, were very vital to the end result, and to the title.

As a side note: I was also very surprised to see that this book was published back in 2017. I have seen it (I feel) EVERYWHERE lately and thought for sure that it was a new book within the last couple of months. When I realized that it came out in 2017 I was shocked. I am very curious to know why it took so long for me to notice it, and why it has been showing up everywhere I look now.

All in all, it was a good crime-mystery. It does drag a bit, but it was very complex and I do give props to Corry for that. I did constantly question which character was saying the title; you think you know, and then in next chapter you’re unsure again. If you’re looking for a thrill, put this one down, it’s not for you. But if you’re looking for a crime, this is a good one for you!

 Dani's Score out of 5: 📚📚📚📚

Right Behind You (Quincy & Rainie #7) 

By Lisa Gardner

Publication Date: January 31, 2017 Genre: Mystery, Thriller, Suspense

Synopsis:

Lisa Gardner's latest thriller following her runaway hit Find Hertakes her wildly popular brand of suspense to new heights.

Eight years ago, Sharlah May Nash's older brother beat their drunken father to death with a baseball bat in order to save both of their lives. Now thirteen years old, Sharlah has finally moved on. About to be adopted by retired FBI profiler Pierce Quincy and his partner, Rainie Conner, Sharlah loves one thing best about her new family: They are all experts on monsters.

Then the call comes in. A double murder at a local gas station, followed by reports of an armed suspect shooting his way through the wilds of Oregon. As Quincy and Rainie race to assist, they are forced to confront mounting evidence: The shooter may very well be Sharlah's older brother, Telly Ray Nash, and it appears his killing spree has only just begun.

As the clock winds down on a massive hunt for Telly, Quincy and Rainie must answer two critical questions: Why after eight years has this young man started killing again? And what does this mean for Sharlah? Once upon a time, Sharlah's big brother saved her life. Now, she has two questions of her own: Is her brother a hero or a killer? And how much will it cost her new family before they learn the final, shattering truth? Because as Sharlah knows all too well, the biggest danger is the one standing right behind you.

Purchase:

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / iBooks

Review:

If you’re looking for a mystery thriller that will take behind the scenes with both the police and the the man they’re hunting, then Right Behind You by Lisa Gardner is a perfect fit!

I thoroughly enjoy reading mysteries when you get to see behind the scenes of both the good and the bad, and it’s not an easy task of the author to do this and still keep you guessing! Gardner did an amazing job of letting you be on opposing sides, but holding back enough information in the process to keep you guessing all the way to the end. Just when you thought you knew who it was or what was going to happen next, characters camouflage themselves just enough to stay hidden, the scene changed dramatically, and you’d find yourself just as confused as the profilers.

I really enjoyed Right Behind You! I had a very hard time putting it down, and even found myself dreaming of it, awaking to read for several hours in the wee hours of the morning. I only have two small complaints:

1) I wish there were a touch more to the epilogue. It was a great ending, but I wish there was a smidge more to it.

2) The cover photo on my copy is misleading (see photo above for what my cover looks like). I know this probably comes off as trivial, but I am one that slightly judges a book on it’s cover. I tend not to read book synopsis before reading a book. I don’t like getting a prejudged assessment of the book I’m about to read. Instead, I like to make an attempted guess as to what I’m about to read based on the title and the photo on the cover. While this is not always the best approach, I find it fun to see if my thoughts based on these two things play into the actual story any. A truly great book art designer will give you a snippet into the book, and I feel this design did not. I get the broken glass/window, but the background photo looks like two dead bodies laying in a bush, which does not happen in the book. Maybe the legs are supposed to be Sharlah being chased by her brother, Telly? But then why are they lying on the grass? It’s just very confusing and not the best option. The cover for the paperback was was definitely a better choice (see cover to right), or even a close up of a camouflaged face… My preference, but then again that is what a review is.

Overall, I really, really enjoyed Right Behind You. I would recommend it to anyone that enjoys a good police mystery-thriller. As for me, I look forward to reading Gardner’s other works, including the other six Quincy & Rainie books!

 Dani's Score out of 5: 📚📚📚📚📚

Pair Them All With: Ouragan Pinot Noir

This Oregon Pinot Noir opens with aromas of rope cherry and spice, leading to a round palate of strawberry and a hint of vanilla, with a medium-ling finish of toasted almond, floral notes and silky tannins. Pair with grilled salmon, sushi and soft cheeses.

Website

Have a book you’d like to suggest or one you’d like me to review? Please feel free to leave your comments down below.

#mystery #mystery author #mystery novel #mystery review #mystery thriller #mystery thriller author #mystery thriller novel #mystery thriller review #review #thriller #thriller author #thriller novel #thriller review #adult thriller #adult thriller author #adult thriller novel #true crime #true crime author #true crime novel #true crime audio book #psychological thriller #psychological thriller author #psychological thriller novel #psychological thriller review #An Anonymous Girl #An Anonymous Girl by Greer Hendericks #An Anonymous Girl by Greer Hendericks and Sarah Pekkanen #An Anonymous Girl by Sarah Pekkanen #Sarah Pekkanen #author Sarah Pekkanen