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pyroclastic727 · 4 years

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Owl House said fuck capitalism

So this episode was interesting. Lilith pretty much killed her sister. Why the fuck would she do that?

Even more interesting: why is Belos like that? How did Hooty put his head through one of those guards? Who the fuck is the Titan, and why does everyone like him? And how are these all tied together?

This episode was a metaphor for capitalism

...and another delicious step towards radicalizing the youth into dismantling this fucked-up neo-feudal system.

We’ll start with Belos.

Emperor Belos is a weird name, don’t you think? We all thought it was spelled “Bellows,” but it wasn’t. In fact, it’s five letters, starts with Be, ends with os, and describes a megalomaniac emperor that restricts people’s freedom in order to accumulate wealth for himself.

Sound familiar?

Emperor Bezos Belos created capitalism. He saw the beauty of magic and decided to make himself the most powerful.

Belos created a system that destroys the masses and boosts his power.

I’m dipping into fan theory a little, because the fan theory fits. We know that people get branded with coven magic that makes it so they can only specialize in one area. We know that Belos is the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles. We know that the excess magic, magic created by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

It’s the same system that many viewers see all the time. A job takes up all your day and tires you for the night, so you can only do one skill for the rest of your life. Jeff Bezos is the most powerful man in the United States. Excess money, money taken by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

The magic goes to Belos, like how the money goes to Bezos. Belos created capitalism, and he won it.

The guards aren’t real.

Look, we’ve never seen their faces. They’re all the same. Why would you work so hard to get to the top, just to become a nameless, faceless killing machine?

Oh, also Hooty stuck his face through one. There is nothing under the armor.

Why? Well, it’s the same reason you see all those celebrities going around flaunting their wealth and bragging about how hard they worked. Like all those songs about how they grind every day and work harder than everyone else while you’re out clubbing, and that makes them dope. And then you take a closer look at them and see that they had a small loan of a million dollars fueling them, or an entire talent agency behind them, or their dad was a famous country star in the 80′s.

They’re fake. They’re hollow. They’re a ploy created by the capitalist emperor to try to delude you into working harder.

Let me put this into perspective. I guarantee that every single one of you has heard stuff like this: “Hard work makes you successful.” “I put in the work, and that’s why I’m successful.” “If you work hard enough, then you can be as successful as Mark Zuckerberg.”

And unless you’re a robot or really lucky, I’m sure all of you have failed at this. Maybe they told you that hard work would make you good at math, so you spent 22 hours a week working on calculus, only to pass it by 3 percentage points and have it destroy your perfect 4.0 GPA. Maybe they told you that if you talked to people enough, then you would make friends, so you spent a lot of time talking to people, only to end up lonely and friendless. Maybe they told you that if you did well in school, you would get a good job, so you spent all your time working hard to be a good student, and then ended up in a soulless, dead-end job.

The guards are there to delude you. Look, who really gains from you being productive? The answer is the ruling class, the CEOs, the government, the bourgeoisie. It has always been that. All you get from working is a paycheck that lets you survive. They get a paycheck that lets them get rich. Just like Belos gets the magic and productivity of the specialized coven witches.

The guards are there to trick you. The truth is that nobody can join the Emperor’s Coven. It’s just there to make you think that hard work will make you successful. Then you spend your entire life working hard, trying to prove to the person in charge that you’re worthwhile. You give your whole life to the Coven, and they give you nothing.

Magic is supposed to be something you pursue for fun. Being skilled at things, being good at something beautiful...that’s supposed to be something you do because you want to. But they took that and made it into a source of productivity. It doesn’t matter if you make good content. All people fucking care about is if you upload the day of premiere, if you make a lot of content quickly, if you maintain a million different conversations with strangers who expect you to be the most interesting person in the room. They don’t care how it hurts you. They don’t care how you crack from the stress. How you cry when you think no one can see you, and then you check your phone and someone can see you, someone did see you, and you have to put on your face and be the charming, magnetic person they want you to be. (oh by the way that’s why I wasn’t online much last week)

And it ruins it. Suddenly you can’t watch The Owl House without being stressed. You can’t make any content. You can’t make spells as powerfully as you want to. Your passion is replaced by perfectionism and insecurity, a voice telling you to keep being the best at what you do, or else they’ll forget you and let you die.

There’s also the Titan.

So nobody has mentioned him before, because in addition to the Boiling Isles being a hellscape full of witchcraft and queerness, it’s also full of atheists.

But suddenly we have people saying all this shit about him? Shit like, he gave witches the gift of magic, and then they learned to use it in a civilized manner, since being uncivilized was disrespectful?

I mean, first off, that’s fucking wrong. The island gives people magic. The island, which just so happened to be shaped like a titan-sized human. But the island/titan gives everyone all types of magic. Hell, even Luz gets to use magic, and she’s human.

It sounds really fucking familiar. (tw for discussion of homophobia and colonialism and misogyny). It sounds like when the news is on and they show some Tr*mp supporter talking about how fetuses have more rights than people and it is their holy duty to take away a woman’s control over her body and force her through unbearable pain and into an 18-year commitment she didn’t want to make. It sounds like all the times people tried to say homosexuality should be illegal, citing a single line in a book written two thousand years ago and heavily edited by a European king. It sounds like all the times people said God wanted them to conquer, to own the entire earth, to force the other races into pain to support them.

This is that bullshit thing people do where they commit awful sins and justify it by citing the will of God.

Or, it’s the Coven using religion as an excuse for evil.

Look, the Emperor’s Coven is clearly colonizer-coded. Saying that people’s original form of magic was wild (and showing a picture with the same joyous, rowdy energy of an 18th or 19th -century Black or indigenous party), and that it was God’s will for them to be “civilized?” Sounds like that thing that powerful white people did where they went and murdered people and forced them into their twisted capitalist system. God, gold, and glory, is what they said, because history books just love to omit the gore.

Lilith is passing the abuse cycle along.

You know, like a good little colonizer. God I fucking hate her. She’s a MILF, in the sense that she’s a Mother I’d Like to Fling off a cliff.

Ah, enough screaming about how much I want to drown Lilith in a tub of Hooty’s mucus. Let’s go into why I want to do that, and how she took the evils of capitalism and just...adopted those.

So, Lilith is sick and twisted for what she did to her sister. But, uhh, that’s the point. You see, there are so many other people out there like Lilith who would do the exact same thing, if given the chance. These are the people who do mean things when the teacher isn’t looking, and then act nice and try to frame you. These are the people who will hate you if you’re better than them. These are people who would do anything to bring you down, if you dare outperform them.

It’s greed, my friends. The mental illness that capitalism blesses us all with.

Lilith herself said it: she dedicated her entire life to the Coven. What she wanted was to be the best. And she almost was...except for her own sister. Someone who lived with her, annoyed her at home, bested her at school. Someone she could never beat, no matter how hard she worked. And her sister was younger than her, too! How insulting was that? Lilith wanted to be the best, and someone in her exact situation did better than her.

Lilith was insecure. And it consumed her.

But why? Why does insecurity consume her? I mean, no one can be motivated by insecurity forever. Well, not unless someone conditions it into you.

The lovely thing about the capitalist system is the morals it teaches you. Things like: “You’re only useful if you’re the best.” “Being school smart makes you smart, while being social smart or sports smart or creative smart or fandom smart is worthless.” “Your worth can be quantified by numbers and is based off arbitrary measures like your income or your grades.” Things that can and will drive us crazy if we let ourselves believe them.

And it did drive Lilith crazy. She got so twisted by a society that said being good at magic is her only worth. Look, Lilith used to be good at things, probably. She was good at sports. At times, she slips up and does an okay job of being Eda’s sister. She has a powerful presence when she’s in a room. And she’s wicked good at manipulating people.

But that didn’t matter. Lilith bought into the lies. She let herself believe that magical skill was the only way to measure her worth. And since she needed to be the best, she hurt Eda for it.

The beautiful thing is, Eda didn’t buy that. "It’s my power, kid. And before you showed up, I spent my whole life wasting it.” Is what Eda said, as she used up the last of her power, the last of her life, to save Luz. In her final moments, she proved that she’s not like them. She’s stronger than them.

None of this matters. Not magical prowess. Not the hierarchy. Not the promise of joining the Coven and having more power than anyone else.

The only thing that matters to Eda is her family. Her real family. Her Luz, King, and Hooty. And by extension, Willow, Gus, and Amity. Those are Eda’s real reason for fighting, for dying: to protect them. Look, there’s no way she would’ve come out of that fight alive. She has a family, and her love for them is stronger than greed or jealousy or capitalism.

Lilith never understood that. She thought the water of the womb was thicker than the blood of the covenant. Or, that the water of the womb and the blood of the covenant are stronger than the bonds of found family. She thought it didn’t matter if Eda loved, her, only if the Emperor loved her. Fucking bitch.

And now, a little something to worry about, before we go. Amity Blight. The girl who wanted to join the Emperor’s Coven more than anything, who dedicated her whole life to doing well in school, to being the best, to being perfect.

And then she met Luz. She fell for Luz. Now she’s in a tricky place, where habit and conditioning want her to join the Emperor’s Coven, but her heart wants her to do the impossible and destroy capitalism.

She wasn’t in this episode. Funny that being injured and unable to work ended up saving her from watching her future mother-in-law die. So she bought some time.

But Luz’s true mom is dead. This is the second mom she has lost, and she’s only fourteen. As powerful as King and Hooty are, Luz needs Amity. Luz needs Amity to support her and help her get back her mom.

So Amity has to make a choice. Fear and insecurity, or love and a high chance of death?

She’ll probably choose death. Because that’s the message that this family-friendly show is giving us kids. Fuck capitalism. All you need in life is to do what makes you happy and be with the ones you love.

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reylofanfictionanthology · 3 years

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TO FIND YOUR KISS IS NOW LIVE!

Authors will be revealed next week! For now all fics are anonymous. Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21. We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars for abbytheatre08

The prompt: After Ben's death, Rey goes mad and turns to the dark side. Only Ben's not dead anymore. ----------------------- She is consuming fire, magnificent in her rage. She will burn the galaxy to its foundations, until the ashes rain down and pile high as mountains. She will gather them into bouquets and scatter them like petals upon his grave.

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained for AlwaysEverlark

The first time she walked into his club, she was looking for a job. Kylo took one look at her—the stubborn pout of her lip, the determined glint in her eyes, the ruddy glow of her face where the sun had kissed it—and swallowed a lump in his throat that was shaped like the words you’re too good for this place.

They needed a singer. Kira Johnson could hold a tune, knew the old standards, and had a knockout pair of tits to boot. A few slinky ballgowns and a touch of lipstick, and she’d more than do the trick of distracting suckers long enough to part them from their money.

The club solely needed to break even; anything they made on top of the Syndicate’s cut was gravy, and Kylo Ren had been lining his pockets with his own take for long enough that he could see Kira for the lump of clay that she was: rough-hewn, misshapen, but soft and supple and sure to curve under his touch.

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions for Andrina_Nightshade

After visiting an old Sith temple, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has fallen into a deep sleep when he pricks his finger on the point of a red crystal. Rey become is the first to find him, but his rescuer isn't just any general or pilot, it's the woman he shares a soul with, who haunts his waking hours, who still sees him even in his sleep.

- The Dyad for aneighthdomain

Based of the Prompt: Groundhog Day scenario. Ben and Rey keep getting sent back to the first time they met and no matter what they do, Ben always dies so they stop trying to change events and just live a life time in the year between and couple of weeks and run away together.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains for AnneAnna

- The Delegation for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- i don't want you like a best friend for anopendoor

It’s not like she hadn’t seen this coming—Rose told her weeks ago that he was invited. It was an inevitability Rey was always going to have to face, she just didn’t think that Rose would be so merciful as to also give every guest a plus one.

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In for Blueyedgurl

Never in her wildest dreams did Rey Johnson think she would ever get to meet her favorite other Kylo Ren. She also would have never entertained the idea of the scenario she found herself in. How did a hike in the woods lead to a snowstorm and taking shelter in a remote cabin in the woods? The idea was so ridiculous but had become reality. Stuck inside with a handsome stranger surrounded by a winter storm, Rey wonders what will happen with no power and only one bed. Will they be polite co-habitants stuck in a strange set of circumstances or is there room for something more?

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance for Crysania

When Rey and Ben, long time co-workers who have never been able to admit their feelings to each other, go on a weekend retreat to work on a movie adaptation script together, a Nor’easter leaves them snowed in. On Valentine’s Day.

- Awake for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) for DoorKeeper9

- The Canvas of Your Skin for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- Fleeing the Storm for driverfever

As the granddaughter of an merciless aristocrat, Rey’s life hangs on a thread at the hands of the French Revolutionaries. When her childhood friend, Ben, offers to platonically marry her in order to take her to his home in England to safety, she has no choice but to accept.

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure for dustoftheancients

When Princess Rey of Coruscant calls upon the cursed Sir Kylo Ren to help her escape her grandfather the emperor’s political machinations, she discovers freedom in the ancient familial magic that binds them together.

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability for Evangel10n

Benimina Solo has never, not even once, had an ounce of Force Sensitivity. She's done a great deal to move on with her life after failing out of her uncle's Jedi training school. So when Rey Palpatine comes into her life and suddenly everything changes, she's not a happy camper.

- Splatter for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary for firelord65

Kaydel pressed her lips together in a thin line, passing a pile of datapads over the desk. “I don’t know what that pretentious nerf herder has put into your brain, but these are tales of the key roles women have played in past rebellions.” She stood, tapping the pile. “They’re great reads,” she added, with a pointed raise of her eyebrow.

- and they danced across the sky for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

They seemed to be calling him, aiding him each instance that icy-cold darkness flowed through his very veins. The magnificent creatures saved him from the voices. They drowned out the incessant chatter in his head. Temporarily cleared away all the anger. During those brief respites, watching those blue wings flutter in the sky, Ben felt free.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable for HopeRebel

The woman in the mirror has blood on her clothes, cash in her bag, and a letter from her husband telling her it's better to forget. Well, he got his wish. She forgot everything-- including her name. And she wasn't the only one afflicted.

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh for irridesca

During the last song in Maxine’s set, a song she announces is called “Soul Companion,” Ben heads back out to the lobby to look for Rey. He finds her not with his eyes but with one broad shoulder, when he bumps into her and knocks her gig bag out of her hands and onto the plush carpet.

- and they were roommates for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- If You Take Me for literallynoonecares

She sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- 3 Days in Vienna for Like_A_Dove

Kylo Ren, trained mercenary Alpha assassin, is on a mission—assassinate Chancellor Palpatine and bring his underground authoritarian regime to an end. It’s what the First Order demands, for the better of society.

It should be an easy task. He’s been getting close to the Chancellor and his cronies for years. So how is it that the unexpected appearance of an Omega, with a seemingly similar mission—and a wholly inconveniencing scent—become a distraction he hadn’t accounted for?

- Confidence and Desire for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves for LRRH17

No one knows since when the giant, black bear has lived in the forest near Theed. Many stories about the origin of Kylo Ren circulate in the small village. After Rey has run away from Jakku, and arrived in Theed she has heard them all of, but has never actually meet the creature. This changes when her and her friends get attacked by bandits on their way back from Otoh Gunga.

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side for Lutrosis

Rey's daughter loses her mother as she wanders around the Supermarket. Ben finds her and the two connect over both being Type 1 diabetics. They find Rey, and Ben and Rey are instantly smitten. As they date and fall in love they discover that Jade and Ben are connected more than they thought and healing is brought to the Solo/Skywalker clan.

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life for maq_moon

“Boys, please stop arguing.” Rose rubbed her temples. “Poe, we get it, you’re childhood best buddies, you’ve got a better grasp on his character than some rando of a rando you met at a party. Finn, for fuck’s sake, we’ve been working with Ben for months. I’m pretty sure if he’s a serial killer or whatever, it would have come out by now.” Finn sat back in his seat, grumbling. “Not how serial killers work.” Rey was going to have a headache if this continued any longer, so she lied through her teeth at the reality of a new player joining their D&D party. "He seems nice." She didn’t trust a single inch of skin on that man. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

- A Mad Man, with a Box for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In for midwinterspring

Kylo Ren, the mysterious senator who appeared from out of the deserts of Jakku and somehow brought them back to life, has spent a long and unproductive session on Hosnian Prime. Now, it's time to go home. After all, there's someone waiting for him and so much for them to do together.

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party for MissCoppelia

Rey goes back to visit her foster mother for a Purim celebration. She meets Ben Solo who's visiting his parents, who are friends with her foster mother. They have an attraction to each other right away, but try to play it cool.

- The Banished Heart for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

Jakku is a withering outpost of the kingdom, and its people hope the new wizard - the mysterious Kylo Ren - will bring them the rains the land needs to heal. Rey is a lonely, clanless girl living in Niima, and she has a secret. One she hopes the wizard will be able to help her with too.

- The Smuggler's Bride for MyJediLife

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- Annabel Lee for myownlittleinfinity

Rey keeps finding these ... notes in her locker. She doesn't quite get them. They seem like love notes, but she doesn't know who they could be from. Meanwhile she's paired up with Ben Solo (who hates her despite her gigantic crush on him) for this English assignment. Who knows how THIS will go.

- with my body i thee worship for niennathegrey

- the losing game for no_big_deal

Sith Princess Rey Palpatine is given a peculiar gift for her Life Day: a Jedi. Not only that, one who is boorish, spirited, and stubborn. But, he presents an opportunity: one that could liberate her from a life under the thumb of her grandfather. She has seven weeks to change his heart before all her freedom is taken from her - forever.

- standing right in front of you for notkellymarie

When Senator Solo's engagement is pushed forward, he and his Jedi bodyguard, Rey, travel to Naboo alone for the announcement ball. The pair despise each other, constantly bickering and disagreeing with each other, which makes spending extensive amounts of time alone together all that more difficult. Until of course, one of them breaks...

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling for OccasionallyCreative

Ben Solo is a seasoned smuggler. And he’s not bad at it, either. But when bounty hunter Rey offers him a temporary partnership he can’t refuse, Ben will find himself pushed to the limits of his skill, patience, and resourcefulness on a job that’s dangerous enough to be his last.

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war for politicalpadmé

“He traded his life for mine,” Rey choked, stomping back and forth in front of him so fast he could barely keep track of her. “He died. He died so I didn’t have to—and it’s not—it’s—after everything he’s gone through—it’s not fair.” Tears were running down her cheeks now, and Poe wanted to do nothing more than hug her, but there was nothing he could say—nothing she would want to hear. Poe remembered all the people he’d lost, all the times he had raged and screamed and cried about the unfairness of it all. “Leia sacrificed herself to bring him back,” Rey declared suddenly, ceasing her constant pacing around the fire as she looked straight at him. “And he sacrificed himself for me—and now no one’s going to know. All he’ll be remembered as is Kylo Ren, but he was—he was so much more.” She exhaled with a shudder and whispered, “He was a part of me, and I—I don’t feel whole without him.” ~

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You for Prix

But she wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for much longer. She was starting to show, and her friends would start asking questions. She would have to give them answers, some of them would not understand, and none of them would accept.

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

During her search for the infamous Luke Skywalker — the man who predicted a devastating earthquake in New Madrid, Missouri — Rey finds herself entangled in Luke’s family history and with his brooding nephew, Ben Solo.

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer for Reykenobi68

Rey had started to get used to Ben not living next door anymore by the time the holidays came around. Then he's back for the holidays. Rey is really expecting things to go wrong after the way he left at the end of the summer. ut is it really going to be that bad.

- The Long Way Home for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings. It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight for shariling

I don't know why I followed you here. She wanted to reply. Maybe because you're so tall I couldn't help but notice you. Maybe it's because of your hair or the way you move, or maybe it's because of that kind of melancholic look in your eyes. There is something about you that I find terribly attractive and I don’t know what it is: maybe the moon or the alcohol or the wolf I have met before infected me with some strange parasite and now I am hopelessly attracted to dogs, I do not know. She could have said one of these things, any of them, instead she said: “I've never bitten anyone before, and I want you to be my first.”

- Fallen for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

It's impossible not to have a soulmark. It's not a big deal, not in the lax and gin-soaked speakeasies of 1920s Manhattan, but it's still a heavy weight to bear, as Ben Solo and Rey find out side by side.

- Lips Raw With Love for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes for Takekurabehime

Jedi Knight Ben Solo is sent to Naboo on an errand of mercy (and to visit his grandparents). He arrives in springtime; but will he be able to complete his mission without finding himself distracted and bewildered when love and intrigue waft through the fragrant air?

- Glitter & Gold for TearoomSaloon

Rey is lead singer in an up-and-coming glam metal band. They've finally got steady performances, but that means playing at the same club as the Knights of Ren, whose lead singer definitely isn't interested in any competition.

- To kiss like lovers do for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Ben and Rey spend their formative years growing up together in Medieval Scotland and it looks like they will end up together. Circumstances intervene and Rey loses her chance to be with him. Devastated, she carries on until the day clan Ren attacks Castle Jakku lead by the notorious killer Kylo Ren.

- Snow Turns To Rain for thehobbem

For a moment, he wanted to ask what she meant, but if he was being completely honest, he already knew. He asked himself that same question over the years, and none more often than tonight, since seeing her again. Was leaving worth it? Was going their separate ways worth leaving each other?

“I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head. “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work. I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

“But?”

“But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

“What do you mean no one goes in there?” A chuckle. “It’s haunted. People see all sorts of weird things in there and some don’t ever come out. You’re better off living with your curiosity.” Rey wakes in a shadowy forest with no memory of where she came from, only her name. With the help of the resident guardian she takes a journey to figure out her past, and maybe even discover her future.

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) for Thursdaygirl

As they continue to work together, two things become clear. One: Ben Solo is an enigma. He’s preppy yet humble, privileged yet introspective. He’s the opposite of lazy; she kicks herself every day for assuming otherwise. And two: Ben Solo will never love her.

- show me the stars. for tmwillson3

“I don’t hate Christmas, I just don’t love it the way you do.” Lifting his head, he pulls a face, loosening up a tangled ornament of a poodle with pink, curly fluff. Rey snatches it from him possessively, tossing it back to the cart. “No one loves it the way you do, to be fair.”

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) for writergenie

In the aftermath of the Battle of Crait, Rey struggles to find her place among the Resistance. However, her lingering Force bond with Kylo— Ben— whatever name he calls himself— complicates things, blurring the line between friend and foe.

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) for XarisEirene

The bond snaps back into place, even stronger than before. He is here. With Rey, yes, but with Luke - Luke, who is looking at them now with that same dangerous glint in his eye that haunts Ben’s dreams.

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #to find your kiss #master post #mod post #photo edit

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

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Prompt #30: Abstracted

"...it's difficult to imagine it, isn't it?"

The steam curled up from the mug and momentarily fogged his spectacles; Cid set the mug aside with a shaking hand and poured a second.

There was a wracking cough from behind him. "-you know...I do not care...for abstracted concepts, Garlond."

Cid allowed himself a smile as he carefully returned the magitek kettle to its stand, then carried the second mug over to the frail man laying on the bed. "And yet, we somehow figured out an abstract concept and made it real. I feel it's only fair we try to at least picture the future we leave in the hands of those that come after us. ...do you suppose we'll simply wake up in the past again? No memory of this present...among our friends once more?"

Nero struggled to sit up; it was a miracle he was alive at all being as he'd caught the barest whiff of Black Rose decades ago while manning one of the machines meant to redirect it away. He'd survived but had been weakened and afflicted with a wasting illness, with only his intellect seemingly untouched and thank the gods for that; as he traveled deeper into his twilight years it was only getting worse and now he was essentially bedridden, relying on Cid for most everything as his pride wouldn't allow any others to see him this vulnerable.

Gitawen would have scolded him relentlessly, if she were here now.

Nero scowled as Cid slid an arm behind him and helped him upright then pressed the mug into his hands. "I can no more predict what shall happen than I can conceptualize my own death and both are a waste of time to contemplate as I will not be conscious of them in the moment."

The glint of the gold ring on the man's pinky finger as he lifted the mug to his lips caught Cid's attention and Cid in turn reached a hand up to touch the locket around his own neck; within was the picture of himself and his father, as always, and also a braided lock of Gitawen's hair. The ring Nero wore had been a gift from him to the miqo'te, and upon her death he'd kept it -- the only memento Nero could stand to look at, and he couldn't remember a time since then where Nero had taken the ring off.

All of their work...their struggles and suffering...everything they'd done to prevent this future from ever happening was now in the hands of the younger folks - the concepts were all there, they were just too distant from it. Not quite as advanced as they needed to be. There was yet Allagan technology to plunder, and even Garlemald's devices would suffice as fodder to get to where they'd need to be, to reverse this future, but by Nero's estimates it would take another four, five decades minimum -- longer still if the damned despots and would-be emperors kept pillaging and destroying. Even if everything went perfectly right and it took the minimum amount of time they thought it would...well. They were both nearly eighty now, and with Nero's illness to consider...

Cid trailed gentle fingers down Nero's arm. "...do you still dream of her?"

"Of course I do," came the grunted answer. "If I didn't do you think I would have bothered myself with trying to prevent all this?"

"Is that really the only reason?"

Nero's face screwed up into a pained look. "...no. But it's a simple delusion to slip into that brings some modicum of comfort. If I were to claim to have done this for anyone else then there would be the deep-rooted fear of losing that person before seeing my grand designs come to fruition."

Cid retrieved his own mug of coffee and returned to the bed, sliding in beside Nero and propping himself up on the pillows; Nero carefully fumbled his half-finished mug onto the small bedside table then collapsed back onto his pillow, falling into another coughing fit. Once it had passed he feebly maneuvered himself so he could place his head in Cid's lap.

"...tell me it was all worth it, because I can't picture it on my own."

He shifted his mug from one hand to the other, then ran his newly freed hand through Nero's hair. "It was worth it. I promise."

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #cid garlond #nero tol scaeva #wol

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foxghost · 3 years

Text

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 60

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 2, Chapter 14 (Part 5)

Thunder rumbles faintly in the distance. Wu Du comes back to their room to find Duan Ling lying on the bed with his eyes still open, glancing over to him as he comes in.

“Not asleep yet?” Wu Du says.

Duan Ling shakes his head, about to get up so he can give his spot to Wu Du.

“Just sleep on the inside of the bed. The floor’s gross. I saw the attendant mop the floor earlier and that bucket of water he was using was so dirty I wondered how many years he’s been mopping with it. Even an ancient dead well is cleaner than that.”

Duan Ling laughs. Since they’re on the road together, they’re making do by squeezing into the only good room in the post house; the bed though, is plenty big enough.

“By the time we get back they may already have relocated the capital.” Wu Du says offhandedly, “We get some good work done here, Mu Kuangda may give us a more spacious house.”

Duan Ling is still thinking about their conversation from earlier in the afternoon. “Is Xie You in Jiangzhou?”

Wu Du gives him a short hum in the affirmative. Duan Ling lets his mind wander, circling back to all those things Wu Du said earlier. He wants to learn even more, but Wu Du is one of the society types, unfamiliar with the political machinations of Mu Kuangda and his ilk. Since the dawn of time the powers between emperor and chancellor, and between local and central government, has always been a series of mutual checks and balances, a test of strength in a tug of war.

Great Chen has experienced many conflicts of war and has finally survived the most perilous period, but Duan Ling has gradually come to realise that beneath the calm surface of recuperation there are crisscrossing undercurrents; one false move and the government will capsize entirely, sinking to the depths below. Northwest of Jiangzhou stands Huaiyin, which has become an increasingly important location to Jiangbei2 ever since the Liao occupation of Shangzi, and now its local lord has grown so powerful that it seems strong enough to act in opposition to imperial powers. Princess Duanping’s marriage alliance with the Marquess of Huaiyin Yao Fu was one way of winning him to the imperial family’s side.

Relocating the capital at a time like this is equivalent to confronting the Marquess, and it is also showing the Li family’s resolution to recover the north with the central plain as a foothold. On the face of it, Mu Kuangda looks like the one who’s pushing this plan forward from the shadows, but in practice the final decision rests with Li Yanqiu. There is no telling, however, whether or not the fake crown prince possesses such valour and insight.

“What’s the crown prince like?” Duan Ling asks suddenly.

Wu Du turns over, ignoring him. Duan Ling gives him a shake, but he can only leave it be when Wu Du doesn’t give him an answer. Eyes wide open, he keeps on thinking. If all he has is himself and his fourth uncle, will he be scared? They’ll have to move the capital sooner or later; when he thinks about that, he finds himself overcome with a vague sense of excitement instead of fear. It is the excitement one feels in the face of imminent danger …

“Why do you always look like you’re still half asleep?”

The next day as Wu Du gets ready to get back on the road, he can’t even get mad when he notices Duan Ling nodding off again; Duan Ling is drowsy as anything the moment he steps out the door, so sleepy he’ll get lost if no one is there to keep an eye on him. A light drizzle has started to fall today, off and on; it’s nearly autumn now, and as they move north along the border of Xichuan, it’s also gradually getting cooler.

By the time they get to the Min River, it’s sunset behind grey skies that wouldn’t stop raining. Wu Du says to Duan Ling, “Right now you’re the young master and I’m your attendant.”

“Alright.” Duan Ling nods, and ties the belt around his robe properly. With painstaking patience, Wu Du instructs him on how he’s supposed to talk depending on with whom, what he’s supposed to say, how not to let his real identity slip. Duan Ling keeps nodding with a humble and self-effacing look on his face while thinking about other things.

Wu Du has begun to realise that Duan Ling is indeed no ordinary person — or put another way, not the ordinary person he used to think Duan LIng was. This kid thinks much, says little, and never says anything before careful deliberation. At first glance he seems inattentive, but he actually possesses penetrating insight, noticing details that even Wu Du may easily overlook.

Days of rain have left the mountain paths wet and slippery, and once they’re outside of Xichuan’s borders, many of the places ahead of them have had landslides, giving their coachman no other option but to take detours. Tonight their coachman has gotten them lost, and he calls out inarticulately to Wu Du. Wu Du can only come out of the carriage and jump on top of the roof in an attempt to survey the terrain.

“What do we do?” Duan Ling wants to come out, but Wu Du gestures for him to stay in the carriage.

“You just get some practice … on how to be a young master,” Wu Du mumbles to himself, spreading a map open. Their surroundings are pitch dark though, and there’s nothing to see with; cold raindrops wrapped in a chilled wind weave themselves through the air around them.

"The people at the post house said this is the right way, "Duan Ling says. “We’ve verified it.”

“I suspect we went the wrong way two intersections ago.” Wu Du is downright frustrated. They have a deaf-mute coachman that’s pointless to yell at, so you can only use hand signs. It’s one thing travelling on Xichuan’s roads, but as soon as they entered the Hanzhong region they’ve lost all sense of direction.

“Or we can just head back,” Duan Ling says.

“Too many forks in the road,” Wu Du replies. “Who knows where in the wilds we’ll end up if we keep moving? Let’s just stay here for the night.”

The coachman drives the carriage to the side of the road and sets up an awning behind it. Duan Ling is sitting in the carriage. Wu Du says, “I’ll go check around the area.”

“I’ll go too.” Duan Ling gets off the carriage with the dagger Mu Kuangda’s given him for self-defence.

Wu Du looks him up and down, a bit surprised.

“How come you’re so brave now?” Wu Du looks rather baffled.

Duan Ling’s not sure how to answer that; as soon as they’re out of Xichuan and his life’s no longer in danger, it seems his courage has grown along with distance. After all, no one else besides Lang Junxia is going to come kill him for no good reason, and while he’s neglected his martial arts for a year, he has been training on a regular basis so he can probably still fight.

“I … just wanted to take a walk,” Duan Ling replies.

“Just wait right here.” Wu Du turns to go, but when he thinks about it he doesn’t feel quite assured. He turns back and feeds Duan Ling a pill. “Swallow it.”

“What is it?” It’s awfully bitter, but Wu Du is looking impatient so Duan Ling can but swallow it. It sits there in his belly with a cool sensation before it starts to glow with warmth. And then Wu Du hands him a gold bead.

With a start, Duan Ling remembers the gold bead — it’s a centipede!

He daren’t take it, and even more so he dares not look at Wu Du. Wu Du says, “Take it!”

Wu Du tosses the centipede at him, and since there’s not much else he can do, Duan Ling catches it. Anyway if he’s bitten Wu Du will just have to give him an antidote. However, the golden bead does not stretch out into a centipede — it simply remains calmly rolled up.

“Put it under your shirt and keep it safe.” Wu Du gestures at his chest. “I’m going to go find you some water. I’ll be back right away.”

Wu Du’s gone, but Duan Ling dares not move that gold bead around, and he wants to hold onto it even less. He sets it down nearby and observes it for ages before he recalls the pill Wu Du gave him. It probably contained realgar3 or other drugs like it, and the centipede won’t bite him if that’s so. He’s not sure why Wu Du asked him to do it, but he follows his order anyway, and carefully tucks the bead under his shirt.

In the dark the coachman pushes a pipe cleaner through his pipe, and crouches down beneath a tree to take his smoke. Duan Ling pulls a piece of flatbread apart and climbs down from the carriage, giving half of it to the coachman, and makes a few random gestures trying to thank him for his hard work. Since they can't communicate, they each go back to what they were doing.

From far away comes the cry of an animal. At once alarmed, Duan Ling opens the carriage’s curtain to look outside.

It has stopped raining, and the night lay silent all around them; in the pitch black darkness of the night the only source of light is the intermittently dim and bright end of the coachman’s pipe, scattering off a faint, red glow. Duan Ling leaves the carriage and stares off towards the end of the road.

The rain clouds have gradually faded away, and the rain that has been collecting into puddles big and small now reflect the starry skies above. Duan Ling notices something flying away from a tree and takes several steps closer, and suddenly he finds a pair of glowing eyes glaring at him, making him yelp in surprise. His voice travels a long way on the quiet plains.

“What’s wrong?!” Wu Du’s been given quite a fright, and he appears on the highway in a single leap.

“There was … a bird.” Duan Ling points up at the tree. He saw an owl — a “cat-headed-eagle” in common parlance. Wu Du’s face twitches, and turning away he leaves once more for the pond for water.

Duan Ling catches up to him, keeping pace at a step behind. As soon as the night sky cleared up earlier, the air turned clean and fresh, brightening his mood at once.

“Someone’s been in this area.” Duan Ling says, “Look over there. Should we go check?”

“When you’re away from home don’t go around saying hello to just anyone. Not everyone enjoys having guests.”

Wu Du has wiped down his upper body and he’s left his shirt off. Holding a shoulder purse loosely in one hand, he walks back side by side with Duan Ling dressed only in a pair of pants.

“You hungry?” Wu Du asks.

Duan Ling has just had a bit of flat bread, and he holds up the rest of it for Wu Du. Wu Du eats it out of his hand and says, “Once we get to Tongguan I’ll get you something better …”

He’s barely finished saying that when they hear a horse whinnying in the distance as though something has happened; Duan Ling and Wu Du are both startled at the same time.

“Oh no!”

With a loud rumble, the carriage begins to move. The coachman yells at the top of his lungs, but his voice is abruptly cut short. The survival instinct that has accompanied Duan Ling through many brushes with death brings him back to his senses.

“Run for it!” Duan Ling immediately shouts, and pulling Wu Du with him, he starts running towards a patch of shoulder-high grass in the wilderness.

“Everything is in the carriage!” Wu Du says.

A split second’s thinking later has Wu Du accepting Duan Ling’s decision, and the two conceal themselves in the tall grass. Just as they finish doing so, arrows fly through the air, aiming at their hiding place. Duan Ling turns over once, dodging out of the arrows’ paths, and makes his escape towards the pond with Wu Du.

A horseman charges into the open. There are high piles of straw everywhere, and neither of them had been guarded against an attack; all Duan Ling has on him is a dagger, and he’s just about to give it to Wu Du when without even looking at the dagger Wu Du presses a hand casually on his shoulder to let him know he should wait behind the piles of straw. Then he covers Duan Ling’s mouth and nose with a wet cloth before tossing out a handful of glowing powder that spreads out like fireflies onto the nearby grass.

There are people coming towards them in every direction, yelling things in a language they can’t understand. Duan Ling realises immediately that they’ve run into a group of Tangut people! This place isn’t far from Xiliang, so they must have reached the border between Chen and Xiliang. Mounted banditry is a familiar sight in Tangut territory — looks like they’ve been targeted!

As this realisation dawns, the Tangut dressed up as mounted bandits nock their arrows, pointing them in the middle of the half circle they’re forming while calling out loudly.

Slowly, Wu Du raises both hands to show that he’s unarmed.

“Don’t come out.” Wu Du says, “Hold your breath.”

Duan Ling hides himself behind a pile of straw. He’s not at all worried about Wu Du’s abilities, however — he’s merely curious and wants to see how Wu Du’s going to deal with them.

The bandits come a little bit closer, and that’s when Wu Du stoops low; every bandit reacts at the same time, but as they take in a breath and fire their arrows, they all start shouting instead, evidently from a sharp pain to their hearts, and several arrows fly off haphazardly without any strength behind them at all. Some of the bandits cry out, probably having realised that they’ve been poisoned, and the group of them just falls into utter mayhem. Meanwhile, Wu Du back flips from where he stands onto a pile of straw and casually reaches out for one of the longest strands out of the pile.

“Don’t come out!” Lest Duan Ling would give him trouble again he orders once more. Then like a cyclone he spins into the middle of the mounted bandits.

Between his fingers the straw flips and spins, each casual flick bringing up a spray of blood from a bandit’s neck, and only then do the rest of the bandits realise Wu Du isn’t someone to be trifled with. With howls of fear, they back away from him. All Wu Du has in his hand is half a piece of straw not even two feet long, but as it makes contact it seems as sharp as a blade.

They’re all deeply frightened, and run away screaming with their hands to their necks.

Wu Du tosses the straw aside. His mouth slightly agape at the scene, Duan Ling has just noticed a problem.

The ground is covered in weapons, all the horses have run away, there’s blood sprinkled all over the grass, but … he hasn’t killed a single person.

“They all ran away? But … But didn’t you cut their throats?”

“All I did was scratch their necks open to scare them a bit. Who’d have the guts to keep fighting when his neck is spraying blood? Of course they’d all run off.”

Duan Ling is speechless.

Once their conversation is done, their eyes look once again into the distance. That’s when Wu Du suddenly remembers something.

“Oh no! All our stuff is in the carriage!”

As soon as this occurs to Wu Du, he quickly stumbles onto the highway, and begins his pursuit towards the direction of the bandits’ escape.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

Jiangbei literally just means “north of the river”, Jiangnan “south of the river”. The river it refers to is the Yangtze. ↩︎

People used to drink realgar wine to keep away evil spirits, poison, and insects, since realgar was an insect repellent that was sprinkled on stuff to keep bugs away. It contained arsenic compounds, but not enough to kill you. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

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anakinisvaderisanakin · 3 years

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When Conviction Fails - Darth Vader POV post ESB Fic

Vader was a man of conviction, as far as he saw it. As was expected of any successful Sith Lord; letting the emotions rule and take full control without ever truly allowing them to conquer you. Using fear to his advantage, using rage to gain power, and pain to enhance said power. It had taken two decades to come to this point. Wavering was expected early on; during the initiation towards the Rule of Two. Vader himself had started out with an unquenchable fury in his soul, and a fresh open wound where heart used to be.

When She died, She had taken his compassion with her. She had grasped at the hand of his spirit, and all that he stood for as The Jedi. As Her life withered away, so did all that was good inside him. Left was only an empty shell of suffering; of agony. What was left, he had deplored. In the remnants of the man that had once been; all that he loathed came to light.

And with the passing years, while the pain never faded completely; it had shifted. From a sharp, searing red hot poker constantly burrowing its way deeper into his side; to a dull, distant ache only there to make its presence known. To make sure it was never forgotten, as a cruel reminder. But no longer at the forefront of his mind.

Eventually, it became enough to numb any other emotion. The remorse over the way in which he had, directly or not, caused Her death was enough to daze and desensitize any other reprehensible act he may commit himself to. The slaughter of innocents, of civilians, of women, of children. All in the name of justice, all in the name of the Empire. It weighed little on his conscience. Why should the blood on his hands matter? If he could kill the person he loved the most, and still go on albeit as an empty shadow of his former self - what did it matter who else joined Her beyond the grave?

Except, he hadn't killed Her.

It had been the first thing Palpatine revealed to him; as his severely burnt and scorched flesh still stung and charred within the fresh confines of its haphazardly crafted life support system. As he was still confounded regarding what was real, and what was a waking nightmare. Trapped within the suit that would become the prison of his own making.

“You killed her,” Palpatine had rasped.

Those were his Master’s words. His only explanation. Insinuating that Vader had for one crucial moment lost control, lost his mind; and subsequently ended the one person he'd fallen so far from grace to save. The one soul he had been so desperate to salvage that he had willingly sacrificed his morals, and his very identity, if only to reach for that tiny sliver of hope Palpatine had dangled in front of his nose.

‘But I didn't kill Her.’

If he had killed Her, there would be no child. His son - their son - would have died with Her, still in the womb. Would have been buried alongside his mother in the Naberrie family tomb on Naboo. Would have never seen the light of day, never grown into the bright, promising young man who had destroyed the first Death Star. Would never have been named, never have been hidden away, never have been living life peacefully unaware of his heritage in the shadows of the Empire for nearly twenty years.

But he was alive.

Luke had changed everything.

The discovery of his existence had been like a slap to the face, like a stupefying wakeup call. Like Vader had found himself dunked beneath the icy cold waters of truth, forced to realize the bleak reality. Forced to realize that the one person he’d been blindly clinging to in this world, was even cruel than he could ever have anticipated.

Palpatine had lied to him.

Perhaps, Vader had indeed inadvertently caused Her demise - but She had lived long enough to birth their son. She had not died on Mustafar, She had not been strangled to death by the invisible hand of his Force choke. She had survived long enough to set their only child to the world. Long enough to name him Luke; granting him the name She had picked out for their child if it were a boy from the very beginning of Her pregnancy.

She had been right.

The Jedi had been convinced that their child would be a daughter, She had been adamant it was a son. Their son. Luke Skywalker. Named by his mother, bearing the stark reminder of who had fathered him.

‘Luke.’

Dark, shaggy blonde hair and deep blue eyes. The same hard, defiant conviction in his eyes as his mother’s hazel ones had carried. He'd inherited The Jedi's facial features; the same angular boyish face, the same dimpled chin; the same complex. But his spirit was that of his mother's. Burning like a furnace flame, fighting for what he believed was right with a conviction only death could steal away from him. Vader had hoped Luke would be more like himself; easier to break, easier to manipulate, easier to steer in the direction he'd have liked. He had wished he himself could mislead, and pull the strings as well as Palpatine had, some twenty years ago when The Jedi had become tangled in the Emperor's web of lies. Trapped like a fly, to be feasted upon by the ravenous spider.

But Luke was different.

Luke was sensitive, emotional, vulnerable and desperately searching for a way to bond with his long lost father. The Jedi would have recognized himself in those qualities; would have appreciated the similarities. Luke had been deluding himself into expecting a heroic fantasy, envisioning his absent father as one of the men who had singlehandedly led the opposition of what would become the Empire. A as beacon of hope. Instead, he had found himself saddled with the knowledge of what had truly become of The Jedi who had sired him.

Vader clenched his gloved hands into tight fists; the visual memory of Luke's hard set, intent expression as he let go of the ledge still etched into his mind. Blue eyes cold as ice; denying their familiar relations despite knowing very well how the Force did not lie. His Force signature bursting with mistrust, and contempt.

But Luke had lived.

For a short moment, as he watched Luke fall; Vader had been unexpectedly reliving the pain of that moment he came to his senses while still strapped to the operation table, as he broke free from his makeshift shackles.

Crippled; less than half the man he'd used to be. More cybernetics and machine, than flesh and blood. Reaching for Force powers he could no longer tap into; taunting him by remaining just out of reach. He was reminded of crumbling to the harsh floor, beneath the load of his own reconstructed body’s weight; of the searing pain as his respirator attempted to match his sobs with its own periodically synchronized breath cycles.

The physical torment, while a menace in its own right; bearing no likeness to the mental anguish of his breakdown. It had stabbed viciously at his already blackened heart, until nothing but a mangled piece of malformed meat remained; the pang in his chest as he watched the last link to Her fall to his doom bringing it back as a distant echo. He was choosing death over his own father, just as She had chosen death over him and the Empire.

But Luke had survived, by some miraculous whim of the fates. The will of the Force, perhaps. Still in denial; still battered, bruised and disabled. Doomed by his own father to experience the same loss of a limb that Count Dooku had once bestowed upon The Jedi.

The Jedi had been bereft of a right arm; Luke merely of his right hand. It had been a selfish, wicked way of attempting to have his son experience the same indescribable humiliation. Stripped of a part of himself; at the hand of an enemy he had been rushing unprepared to face. Overconfident; in over his head. With this, Luke had learnt never to throw himself head first into a battle he was not equipped to win.

But at what cost?

Vader found himself glaring out into the vast black void ahead of the Executor; clutching at the distant mental link humming between them for a brief moment - like a flicker of light before going out in an instant. Luke was too far away to read; as his signature disappeared along with his ragtag crew of rebels. The Princess no doubt on-board; Vader could tell. Ironic, how it had been her saving his skin this time around.

Still, he felt the frustration bubble up inside. Felt it mingle with the fury; with the disappointment. Despite the carefully calculated trap he'd set, the way it had played out all in his favour until that last moment where Luke broke protocol. His reaction had aligned with none of the scenarios Vader had prescribed beforehand. It had failed; he had failed - and Luke was gone. Just like his mother.

Vader knew he shouldn't be surprised.

Everyone had left him for dead. Whenever he’d dared to love, dared to trust, dared to open up and be vulnerable and sincere - it had been for naught.

Mother, watching with glassy dark eyes when he turned to peer at her over his shoulder one final time; ever the terrified little boy as he left Tatooine behind. The boy who believed the Jedi order would help him free her. Instead; it had kept him from saving her. The last time he’d seen her before her demise; he was only nine years old. She’d been all he knew. Albeit without intention of hurting him, and beyond her own control; Shmi Skywalker had passed away in his arms to leave him alone. Had torn the first hole in The Jedi's heart; had triggered the first act of rampant, blind revenge. His first step towards his dark fate.

“I’m so proud of you, Ani,” she had breathed; as the life left her eyes.

Ahsoka had followed; abandoning him for her own selfish reasons. Walking away from him, dismissing his importance in her life and the value of the lessons he had taught her; the value of their bond. She had made it clear he was never going to be enough; had turned him down despite his pleading, his admission that he understood her feelings better than anyone. The Jedi had failed his padawan, the only one to believe in her innocence and to what end? Ahsoka had still turned him down.

“..And without you,” she had whispered.

Obi Wan was next in line; siding with the maniacal teachings of the Jedi order. Fighting to avenge them - all the while outright lying to his face, trying to trick him into believing he could still return to him. Trying to make The Jedi believe that his former master had ever considered him a brother. That they were ever more than merely master and apprentice; that The Jedi was never the burden or a disappointment he’d felt he was. That he was important to Obi Wan, too, in a way he had never outwardly expressed. That Obi Wan, who never formed attachments after what happened to the Duchess of Mandalore; had been so overtly attached to him.

“I loved you,” he had sobbed.

And then Her; who had turned down his offer of keeping Her by his side. Turned down the offer to become untouchable, as his Empress. Betrayed him, in spite of all he had sacrificed for Her. He had killed younglings for her. His brothers and sisters; his entire life slaughtered in the crumbling ashes of the burning Jedi Temple. To learn the ways of the Dark Side, to join the Sith - to keep Her from dying. And She had thanked him by rejecting him; by claiming She could not follow him anymore.

“I love you,” she had cried; and for the first time in his life - he didn’t believe her.

Now, Luke had chosen to stride the same path. Selfish, like Ahsoka. He too believing in the lies Obi Wan had fed him. Believing himself too virtuous, too pure just like Her. Believing that any lives he had taken in the name of the Rebellion - and his misplaced sense of civil justice - to be easier to explain away, than those his father had claimed. But in a way, Vader supposed it was no surprise Luke took after his mother. His son’s intentions were fair, his sacrifices rational. She had been pure, and good; though She was not fully innocent in the wake of the war, either; she had known where She stood.

Luke had inherited the same sense of morality, the same hunch for standing up for the weak. Standing up against the Empire, as a way of breaking free; of fighting back against the leading elite. Although, his desperation to make a difference and be of importance mirrored that of The Jedi.

Vader had sworn before the battle at Bespin that Luke would be turned. But could he?

Luke was still but a youth; still naive and starry eyed - despite some of that innocence being ripped away in the very moment Vader had revealed to him the truth. But he was secure; he was so steadfast in himself and who he perceived himself to be. The Jedi had been going astray when he was the same age; his fears and insecurities eating him alive. Luke was already an adult; had already defeated his demons.

“I am your father,” Vader had said to him.

The response he’d received was that of Luke crying out in agony, in begrudging despair. All the while knowing that the grim revelation was nothing but the truth. Perhaps Luke would now see that the line between good and evil; right and wrong was not as straight as he had supposed. It was a blurry, tangled mess; the road to hell paved with good intentions. Vader's own road to hell surely had been. But Luke was paving his very own road elsewhere, it seemed.

Still, it stung Vader’s damaged eyes. The rage swelling in his chest; filling the empty void of broken, shredded pieces of what was once his heart. For a second, the shade of glowing amber that coloured his eyes a sickly, Sith yellow faded. Gave way for a pale, tired blue. Bleached by the scorching flames of Mustafar’s lava streams. The same blue eyes The Jedi had once sported. The same blue eyes his son now possessed. Vader shook his head in frustration, and in an instant the shift was reversed. The embers of his fiery stare bleeding through, devouring the remnants of The Jedi resurfacing.

Or, so he would have hoped.

But the pulsating ache inside; dull and sharp as a blade all at once, remained. Vader knew the feeling; recognized the emotion he’d thought long gone. One that had been numbed and buried deep for so many years; underneath the heaps and drones of twisted, lifeless bodies of his victims.

Remorse.

Regret.

Guilt.

Remorse, for the way in which he had handled his first meeting face to face with his son after he had learned the truth of their connection. Regret, for the way in which he had physically, and mentally, snuffed out some of the light of hope previously clear in Luke's bright blue eyes. Guilt, over the fact that he had purposely driven a wedge between them himself; much like he had done between himself and Her. He found he knew no other way.

Vader pursed what was left of his charred lips behind the face plate. He glared at the distant stars, sparkling like burning orbs against the inky sky behind them. Spanning eons of light years ahead. Filling the distance between himself and Luke, making it palpable. Tangible.

He despised Obi Wan for lying to his son. Despised the way in which he had deluded Luke into believing in a childish fairytale. Despised him for telling Luke that his father was dead, that his father was now unreachable.

‘But is that not what you tell yourself?’

Vader turned his head to the side, as if to deny the suggestion. Still, the quiet voice nagging at the back of his head would not be silenced.

‘Do you not constantly tell everybody that Anakin Skywalker is dead? That you destroyed him? Is that not what you tell yourself? Luke is not your son; he's The Jedi’s son.’

‘Luke is my son. My flesh and blood. Mine alone,’ Vader shot back silently; his inwardly projected diction a sharp hiss of a threat; angled towards the defiant part of his own psyche.

‘Then, you must also admit that you are Anakin Skywalker.’

‘His name means nothing to me.’

‘Then, Luke Skywalker cannot be your son.’

‘He is.’

‘Then, you are indeed Anakin, and you accept that as the only truth.’

‘I am not The Jedi; he was weak and foolish. I destroyed him and his pathetic legacy, he is nobody now. He is nothing.’

‘You cannot claim Skywalker as kin, if you do not acknowledge your own identity.’

‘Silence!’

‘Silence will accomplish nothing. It is too late to undo what you have revealed to yourself.’

Vader forcefully ignored his own intrusive thoughts; locking them back away inside the darkness of his past where they could not bother him.

But weren’t they right?

If Luke was indeed his son; did that not mean that The Jedi had never fully died? How could he be a different man, a separate entity, if he recognized The Jedi's son as his son?

‘And Luke is my son. My son, and he belongs to me. With me.’

He could feel it in his bones; could feel it as deeply as he felt the tendrils of the Dark Side surging through him. As deeply as he felt the connection to his own Force sensitivity, to his own memories of Her. Vader had loved Her - loved Her still - and She had been but the wife of The Jedi. If he thought of Her as his beloved, as his everything; did that not mean he must recognize himself as unchanged? A broken shell, a faded shadow of who he had once been. But the same nonetheless.

A fleeting image of Her passed before Vader’s inner vision. Her kind hazel eyes, full of mournful sorrow. Her silky brown hair, falling in springy curls over Her pale shoulders. His betrayal had destroyed Her; had ripped Her from him. How could he ever repent for that? His eyes prickling; Vader snarled silently to himself - deformed face contorting into a visage of hollow, yet overwhelming anguish.

The Jedi had known that what he had done was wrong; as soon as he stopped to think about it. Had known the lives he'd taken could never be accounted for, could never be justified. That, much as he liked to think killing the younglings had set them free from a cruel fate of being twisted by the unkind religion of the Jedi Order; he had been ridden with the burden of their murder. He had locked that knowledge away; had forced himself to deny its meaning.

Still, now, he was not as sure anymore. He found himself wavering; suddenly not as certain of his future as he had once been. Not as convinced of his purpose to suffer for eternity, while bringing upon others the same torment. Vader didn't even take note of the wetness pooling at the corners of his bloodshot yellow eyes until one lone tear broke free to trail down the grooves of his wretched face.

Only then, did the shock seep in.

When had he last cried? Had it been on Mustafar, after he had slayed the Separatists and the realization of what he had just committed himself to came crashing down on him? Had it been when he learnt of Her demise seconds hand after the brutal life saving ordeal, merging the bodily torture with the psychological agony? Had it been when Ahsoka swore to him that she would not leave his side this time, despite knowing what he had done as Vader? Had it been when he found Obi Wan's tattered robes were all that remained of the old man he had struck down, thinking it would bring him peace but finding himself stricken only by grief? Had it been the last time he was reminded that everything he felt, everything he stood for - everything he believed - came from The Jedi?

Luke knew who his father was.

Knew who he was; knew what he was. Despite having his world toppled over and turned on its head; despite trying to deny it. Vader had denied the same fact for so long, that he had almost forgotten where the line he'd forged between what he considered to be The Jedi and himself was drawn. All he knew for certain, was that Luke was his son. And if he wanted to cling to that one scrap of light; there were so many horrendous actions he needed to take responsibility for as well.

The Jedi had never truly died. The Jedi had only ever evolved, had only ever changed as life itself changed and formed him into a dark dealer of vengeance. Had been molded by the path he chose, and by the people he’d loved and lost. Had been hollowed out; until only the carcass remained.

It was The Jedi that had killed Her; he had stolen Her will to live, he had snuffed out Her longing for peace.

It was The Jedi that killed Ahsoka; having zero quells with beheading her as soon as she denied him what he wished for; denied him her allegiance.

It was The Jedi that had killed Obi Wan; striking him down after convincing himself that the blame was all on him, and that it would diminish with the death of his former Jedi Master.

Now, they remained lingering in his peripheral like translucent specters. Like a haunting reminder of how he may never escape. May never forget. May never be able to fully buy into his own lies. May never be forgiven.

The Jedi - Anakin - was still very much alive. Not thriving, but crumbled to the bare bones of a forsaken human being. Beaten down by life, enslaved by one person after the other. But he had a son.

As another tear trailed lazily down his cheek; Vader flinched. The sensation overwhelming him, a mixture of heavenly relief and excruciating devastation. It seemed one may never appear without the other in its tow. The name of The Jedi was supposed to mean nothing to him; was supposed to be an empty callback to a past long since abandoned and overcome. Was supposed to be a distant remnant of a man that no longer breathed. In itself, that was true from a certain point view.

But if it had truly meant nothing, it would never have stung the way it did whenever uttered for Vader to hear. When She said it. When Ahsoka said it. When Obi Wan said it. Whenever it was uttered, it would bring forth all the suffering The Jedi had caused. And all the contempt The Jedi harboured towards his own visage. Therein lay the answer.

‘I am Luke’s father. Luke is my son. I am Darth Vader.’

‘And Anakin Skywalker,’ the pestering murmur of his inner voice whispered.

Anakin no longer had the strength to suppress, or deny that statement.

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

Can be found on my Ao3 below, repost from my original acc.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048643

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aksthetwosainthijimiko-blog · 3 years

Text

I am not Zero, part two

“Thank you.” Dhira.... Lalita.... Zero inclined his head as took the new E-tank from Hidden Phantom, one the Shinobi had fetched from behind a secret emergency unit.

Zero cracked it open, but didn't drink it yet. Instead, he seemed to be offering it to someone... probably his imaginary friend.

The black and white Shinobi grunted as he studied the ancient build.

... For something that was over a hundred-year-old, Zero didn’t look all that different from Phantom and his brethren, being manufactured at the same time, four years ago in a bid to stop the maverick uprising by giving Master X some potent assistants.

He still looked very worn tough, but who wouldn't after running up the booby-trapped tower and fighting hords of pantheons and the guardians?

‘Any lesser reploid would not have made past the fifth floor’ Of this, Phantom was certain.

“Say... Phantom?” Zero addressed the Shinobi. “Can you hide yourself from X?” Zero asked as he finally began to sip from the can.

“You want me to spy on my Master.” Phantom flatly stated.

“As a Ninja, we do not have masters, and we do not follow the general morality, just a Strong code of ethic and respect.”

If the one you serve is less than stellar and is using your mystic skills to opresse instead of protecting; then it is your duty to kill him.” Zero declared with eyes holding cold steel. “Hidden Phantom, you are not a Dog-like Samurai who will slavishly follow the order of his master unquestionably. You are a Shinobi, a free agent, and instrument of divine justice to be used for those who have abused their power!”

Phantom reflectively swallowed... this, was not the confused dog he had fought the first two times, but an ancient warrior, a Shinobi who lived by the code...

And yet.

“Big words for Ciel’s attack mutt.” phantom gave a nasty smirk.

“I don’t serve Ciel.” Zero flatly refuted as he sipped from the E-tank, letting out a small sigh of relief. “But... I am the Servant of a worthy master.” He admitted with a beautiful and ever-so grateful smile.

Phantom would forever hate himself... but at this moment, Zero became the most beautiful and handsome reploid on the planet.

“Oh? And who would that be?” He asked instead, trying not to stare at the bright-faced maverick. Intel about the red Legend was harder to come by then one would expect.

“ You don’t know them and... They’re not In Neo-Arcadia.” Zero informed the Shinobi, who was now all ears.

“Not in... some reploids raiders, are they?”

“Nope!” Zero took a sip. “A couple of Vaishnavas living in France. In Nouvelle Mayapure.”

“You’re lying!” Phantom immediately denied. “Neo-Arcadia is the last Bastion of humanity, beyond its sacred walls lies a radiated desert!”

“Not everywhere.” Zero simply answered. “Sure most of the big cities are still ruins. But small villages and small settlements have grown into other cities... Nouvelle-Mayapure is one of them. And this was where I found my master and his Saintly wife.” Zero drained the last of the thank and after consuming the can (it was made of specialized Alloy needed by reploids.) He got up. “As much as I would love to keep chatting about my Gurus, we have plenty on our plates... and I would rather not make X wait for me any longer.”

“Right... lead the way.” Phantom bid as he activated his cloaking device and shut off all unneeded communication... essentially, appearing as dead.

:Zero... please wait five minute, I want them all to think I died.: He Radioed the eldest built. And, after five minutes went to the transerver.

He could feel his pump pulsating... what would be revealed from this confrontation?

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

Phantom stood hidden behind Zero, the natural darkness of Area X masking whatever had been left by his cloaking device.

In front of his stood master X, in all of his glories. He was glaring at Zero with both fear and rage. His red eyes glowing in the gloom of the room.

Zero took a few steps forward when the three other guardians teleported in.

“Stop!” Harpuia yield as he launched a wind blade... his accuracy greatly diminished by his wounds.

“We won’t allow you to pass!” Fefnir roared.

“... J... Just give up!” Leviathan managed to say in between her gasps.

It seemed Zero had not been lenient on her.

:Zero... And I thought you holy man would not hit a woman. : Phantom mildly scolded the so called... servant of God. :Not so above all, are you?:

:Technically, we are all female by nature.: Zero replied without a pause as he prepared for the worst. :And Leviathan is a... A coward like the rest of your group... but she’s still considered a warrior in her own right.:

:Cowards?:

:A real warrior will fight to the death and will gladly die in the battlefield... you all ran away the moment you began feeling some of your wounds.:

“Leave, you won’t survive this fight.” The voice of his master resounded from the dark area of the room. Interrupting whatever argument Phantom may have had.

On one side, Phantom knew Master X was right. None of them were in any condition to face the fool...and yet!

They could have given some support to the emperor of Neo-Arcadia. But alas, their Master desired to fight his traitorous friend alone.

He would win, of this, Phantom was sure... like, absolutely sure...

After a round of very understandable cursing, all guardians vacated the place, leaving only Zero, Master X and the hidden Phantom behind.

Zero gave a good look at Master X, then he opened communication with Phantom.

:Phantom, whatever happen... please don’t kill him.:

:I will be the judge of that.:

: Krishna told me the next step will be easier if he’s still alive... and knowing your skills, there would be no chance to even try to reason with him.:

:Reason with him?: Phantom almost asked.

: He’s only four year old, Phantom... he’s practicly a child.:

:If your right, that is.:

Zero didn’t awnser, instead, he turned his attention towards master X. “Who are you?“Do you have a name?”

‘Ah, Acting dumb, are you?’ Once again, Phantom was eager to see where this would be going.

Master X sneered, his red eyes shining with... malice? ‘No, that can’t be right.’

“What you don't remember your old friend? It’s me Zero, X!”

Zero kept looking at his old friend as if he was a stranger... and then.

“X has Green eyes.”

Those four words had the same effect of a missile detonating in the middle of Neo-arcadia.

“He’s five foot three, you barely five feet in height. His nose was covered in freckles, your skin is smooth... And X’s voice is deeper, yours is childlike.”

Master X... is he really was whom he declared to be, sneered.

“Let me ask you again; who are you?”

“I’m X’s perfect copy!” The Copy revealed himself. Opening his arms as his natural cruelty manifested himself in his smile. “I am the new hero, the one who will save the humanity from this wasted world!”

For his part, phantom did his best to remain concealed as he watched a monster move the body of his beloved master.

Phantom knew body language, he had a dedicated computer designated for those type of programs.

“Didn’t you noticed Zero?” The copy continued... and Phantom could only hope his body language was just an illusion. “Humans have never been this happy before. And this is all due to me.” he raised his hands as pride filled his chest. “I have managed to achieve the goal neither of you even managed to come close... I Have achieved what X never could!”

“Alright, and who are you?” Zero asked again. Not with anger (admirably enough). “Do you have a name? A number? Any type of designation?”

This question seemed to take...

Phantom’s eyes grew wider behind his mask... Zero had established that this reploid was but a mere copy, now he needed to know who he truly was.

The copy worked his mouth for a bit, it was clear that Zero managed to catch him in a loop. “I... I’m... AH...”

“They called you X.”

“Shut up!”

“They didn’t even bother giving you your own identity.”

“Shut up!”

“Tell me... how did you discover that you were made at the image of my best friend?” Zero asked as he showed no sing of agretion. His posture was relaxed, and while his arms were crossed, they didn’t carry any sign of fear or mistrust.

His voice was modulated in such a way that it carried a type of kindness only experienced councillor. But from What Phantom had managed to gather from the public enemy number one... Zero was never a councillor, but had needed one.

Unfortunately, he never went to see him, and instead, sealed himself again. Essentially committing suicide, if his final logs were of any indications.

And then Zero’s reaction to Phantom’s attempt made all the more senses.

“Why should I tell you, Maverick.” The Copy spat. “You're a Criminal, a terrorist!”

“I didn’t bomb a peaceful settlement... and I would never murder my kind because human’s can’t live without their Internet and whatever electronic drugs on the market for them.” Zero openly sneered.

“What’s wrong with them if it makes them Happy?” The Copy shot back. “They have whatever they want, they have all the pleasure they desire... Isn’t it the goal of life for them? To have as much pleasure and happiness before death come, and they become nothing?”

“No.” Zero awnser flatly. “ The living entity is the eternal soul, for him, death is but a change of costume.” He explained, reminding Phantom that he was indeed a spiritual practitioner.

Weirdly enough.

“ You want to make your humans happy... and this is the desire of all great leader. But the only thing you saved what the cage the soul is stuck it.” He declared bodily. “No one can truly be happy and not serve God with Love, it’s impo-”

“Oh, Shut up would you?” The Copy snapped. “ The soul’s a myth, scientists has managed to replicate human consciences in machines.” He sneered as he aimed his buster (left-handed) at Zero. “Wake up, Zero, this is the age of technology and cold, hard fact! The whole concept of God and the soul has been busted, I know we’re all going to die, so better enjoy whatever life I have left.”

“And yet, reploids are doing an action only embodied spirit soul can; they desire! They have emotions... and you killed them all for a false sense of peace and artificial prosperity... and out for your own twisted sense of so-called pleasure.” Zero sneered and Phantom realized that he was getting rilled up.

He had heard stories and inspected the result of what a rilled-up Zero could do... it was not pretty.”

And science didn’t disprove anything save the intelligence of those who worship it.” The Blond legend raised his voice as he jabbed an accusatory finger at the copy. “What did science gave us save from a hundred years worth of wars, famines and false promises of a better tomorrow? It did nothing, absolutely nothing... nothing but more misery hidden behind a veneer of so-called pleasure.”

Copy stared owlishly at the Mad maverick, computing what he had just said.

Then... a mocking smile split his lips has he began to cackle at the crazy blond.

“Your... you're funny. You’re hilarious.” phantom heart the bank grade bolt lock the only two exits the room. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

“... So, you want to fight?” Zero asked As he took out his Z-sabre. “You demons are all the same.“ He growled. “Fine... Yamaraja was waiting for you anyway.”

And thus... the most brutal of fight began as Phantom helplessly looked on.

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

To be continued.

#megaman #Megaman Zero #Zero #vaishnavism #Copy X #Hidden Phantom #fanfiction #fanfic #I'm not gonna stop #Zero is the best viral agent out there

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Text

Title: burn bright until we’re not Fandom: Star Wars Ship: Biggs/Luke AN: Remember how I complained about the lack of fanfic? Yeah.

Read on AO3!

— first

Luke Skywalker was not the first person Biggs had a crush on, but perhaps he was the first he fell in love with. The day he realized how much he adored his best friend wasn’t really different from any other day on Tatooine. There wasn’t much to do on their homeworld but to laze around, work on the farm, get drunk, repair a speeder and go racing. They had been done with their chores already.

Well, Biggs who had many siblings and less to do in general had been finished.

He’d gone over to the Skywalker homestead after to help Luke so that they could go racing after. Luke had been busy repairing droids, grease smeared over his clothes and face while he frowned at five different wires, only to lighten up as soon as he spotted his best friend. Biggs fell in love with the way Luke smiled at him.

— kiss

More often than not, kissing Luke meant tasting dust and oil. Biggs didn’t mind too much, even made fun of his boyfriend for being made out of storms and machines. Luke tackled him in retribution, they fell down into the sand, complained and laughed. They kissed the day Biggs left for the Academy, for the Rebellion, and there was nothing sweet about it. They clung to each other in desperation, torn between dreams and hopes and promises of coming back.

— final

The fighting stopped, the second Death Star had been taken out and with it the Emperor. But still, there was no sign of Luke. Biggs hadn’t been there when he decided to leave, surrender to Darth Vader so they wouldn’t have to deal with a Sith Lord killing their already few numbers. This was the final day of an era of tyranny, and Luke might be-

— numb

No, I am your father.

Luke had been desperate at first, then panicked and scared and finally angry. Now he only felt numb. When his world had been falling apart, the stories about his father had been something to cling to. He had been a good man, a hero, and Luke had wanted to be just like him.

He didn’t know who was supposed to be now.

— broken

When Luke returned from Bespin, he wasn’t the same. He was missing his friend, his lightsaber and his right hand, but something in him had broken and Biggs didn’t know how to fix it.

“He survived Vader,” Wedge assured him. “He will pull through.”

— wings

“So, uh, does everything around Commander Skywalker usually grow wings?”

Rogue Squadron’s newest recruit was short, and she doesn’t look like much, but her turns were so sharp that Luke wanted to hand her his lightsaber just to see if she’d know what to do.

“You get used to it,” Wedge sighed. “Our dear leader usually goes outside to meditate, but Biggs forbid him after he caught a cold last time.”

Luke dropped one of the floating tools on Wedge’s head.

— melody

Luke was humming. Biggs was fairly sure he didn’t even notice it, but since they had taken off, flying in the direction of the Death Star, Luke had been humming. He only really stopped when he was calling in and giving a status update. Biggs knew the song from Luke. It wasn’t a nursery rhyme, but Aunt Beru used to sing it as one. Luke always muttered it when he was trying to calm down, except for that one time he had shouted it when they’d been flying away from Tuskens in Beggar’s Canyon.

“Oh, You're never gonna be closer to the Great Water,” Biggs whispered to himself. “Than when the Master sends you into the desert, don’t cry, don’t cry…”

They’d make it out. They would survive this suicide run against the Empire and utterly destroy their weapon of mass destruction.

— rules

Luke watched Biggs leave, the japor snippet he’d been given burning warmly in his hand. Biggs had promised that he’d return in three years time, come pick Luke up and they’d be free to travel wherever they wanted. It was a nice dream and Luke wanted to chase after it, but nobody who had made it off Tatooine ever came back, such were the rules of their life. Luke felt like everything inside him was screaming at him to tell him he’d see Biggs again. Well, that could only mean that it would be Luke chasing after Biggs, so that for once in their lives their roles were reversed.

— chocolate

Introducing his new wingman to sweets was Wedge’s new hobby. Biggs Darklighter, Outer Rim pilot, was a terror on the field. You almost wouldn’t assume he was nineteen, looking and acting much older. Right now though, his face utterly stuffed with fine Alderaanian chocolate, he actually seemed like the inexperienced young man he was.

“I have to show Luke this,” Biggs muttered.

“Who’s Luke?” Wedge asked.

Biggs smiled softly and oh- well, if that wasn’t a love-struck expression.

— nostalgia

“I missed this,” Han said. “You, me, people shooting at us while we’re saving the day.”

“This is not the right place for nostalgia, Han!” Leia shouted at him and leaped over their cover, her lightsaber ignited.

“You’re right,” Han agreed, watching her tear her way through their attackers like an angry war goddess. This was way better.

— heartbeat

“We’re losing him! I need a medic over here, now!”

This wasn’t their childhood adventure, this was war. It meant burying and burning their dead, staining their dirty flight suits with the blood of the people they couldn’t help, those they reached too late.

“Quick, someone, his heartbeat is weak, hurry up-“

“He’s gone, Biggs,” Luke said, his voice sounded far away. “We have to keep moving. C’mon, the imps aren’t far behind us.”

— stranger

They hadn’t seen each other in weeks. Luke had been tracking down Jedi artifacts on his own and Biggs had been busy flying transports.

“Hey, there stranger,” Biggs greeted Luke from behind.

Luke didn’t even twitch, it was getting near impossible to surprise him nowadays. He turned around quickly and pulled at Biggs’ collar so he could kiss him. Around them, their friends shout and whistle.

“Idiots, all of them,” Biggs laughed and went in for a second kiss. He tangled his fingers in Luke’s hair. It was darker than it had ever been on Tatooine, and longer too.

“You need a haircut.”

“I need a shower,” Luke replied. “Care to join me?”

— confusion

Han didn’t know what he was supposed to make of the kid, the old man, and the two droids. Chewie liked them, especially the old man. He’d introduced himself as Ben Kenobi and the kid as Luke Skywalker. Han had been a brat himself during the Clone Wars, but even he recognized those two last names. The Jedi magic business he was less sold on – it made no sense and it was confusing as hell, alright? – but back in the war, the Jedi had been Generals. Military titles Han could work with. Either way, the kid and the old man didn’t look like much, but perhaps they’d prove him wrong.

— bitter

The alcohol tasted bitter on Luke’s tongue, but it wasn’t the worst drink he'd ever had.

“Passable,” he judged and handed his bottle over to Wes who promptly choked on it.

“The heck, Skywalker! This tastes like the stuff I put in my tanks! This isn’t drinkable.”

Luke frowned and took back the bottle to hand it to Biggs, who also had no problems drinking it. They shared a look, then grinned.

“You should taste the stuff we drunk back home.”

“No, thank you.”

— afterlife

Biggs stared at Luke, then at the empty space beside Luke where apparently Anakin Skywalker’s ghost was lurking, and finally back again at Luke.

“No,” he said, pulled their blanket over his head again and dropped back on their bed. “It’s too early for funky Jedi business. I can meet him later when I’m awake and coherent enough to understand dead people coming back. The world of the living is closed for any afterlife dwellers until I’ve had my kaf.”

Biggs slowly fell asleep again to the sound of twin laughter.

— daybreak

Biggs had spent the whole day over at the Lars homestead until it had been so dark, Aunt Beru hadn’t wanted him to go home by himself. Luke and he had squeezed together in Luke’s bed, which was much too small for two teenagers, even if Luke was short for his age. They stayed up way to too late and got up before the first sun rose.

“C’mon,” Luke whispered and dragged Biggs with him outside. They climbed up the dome of the homestead and huddled together, watched the sunrise. At daybreak, Biggs decided he’d follow Luke everywhere, he’d only need to ask.

— audience

They had an audience.

“Didn’t you say he was your boyfriend?” Wes asked. Next to him, the pilot Luke had arrived with – Han Solo or so? – looked just as flabbergasted as the rest of the team. He kept looking at Luke, as if to check that they weren’t playing a prank on them.

“You talked about me?”

Now Luke was looking up at Biggs with his big blue eyes flickering mischievously and Biggs could feel his cheeks heating up.

“Well, yes. I mean, it’s not like this is Tatooine, but I figured I should still, ah, stick to the oath, so boyfriend-“

Luke finally had enough torturing Biggs. “Yes, you did fine. And yes, we are married.”

“When did that happen?” Solo asked, throwing his hands in the air. “We arrived not even a week ago!”

Now it was Luke’s turn to blush, rightly so. “Uh, before Biggs left Tatooine, so three years ago…?”

— endless

Sometimes it felt like the fighting never stopped. They came back from patrol, someone slapped a few bacta patches on them if they could afford any, they ate if they could keep the ration bars down, went to sleep if they didn’t wake up screaming and got sent off for another run. There were moments where Biggs thought it didn’t get any better, the Alliance just tried to avoid the worst of the punches. He hated this endless fighting, the thought that this might be it for the rest of his life.

He always got back up again either way.

— fireworks

The first time they kiss, it wasn't so much a kiss as Biggs being stupid and getting lost in his thoughts. Luke couldn’t sit still and he was always making sounds, whether he was humming or talking. Luke had turned to Biggs, asking him to hand him a tool and all Biggs could think of at that moment, was how nice it would be to kiss Luke.

So he did.

As soon as his lips touched Luke’s, he realized what he was doing and pulled back. He expected Luke to start shouting maybe, not to flush bright red, stammer and abandon all attempts at communication to dive in for a second, clumsy and awkward kiss. They made up inexperience with enthusiasm and nothing, not even the drought season fireworks, could compare.

— wishing

“So you what? Rub a lamp and get three wishes?” Leia asked skeptically.

Han groaned. “Yes, it’s an old Corellian story. Can I go on now?”

“But, Dad, aren’t there any rules about the wishes?”

“Yes, Han. There must be rules.”

There probably were, but Han couldn’t recall them. He only vaguely remembered the story from his childhood. Maybe his mother had told it to him or he had just put it together from the many stories the fellow orphans used to tell at night, he wouldn’t know.

He did know that his wife and son shared the same inquiring look that looked utterly adorable on Ben’s small round face.

“You make up some rules then,” Han decided and as expected, Ben and Leia immediately began discussion.

So much for bedtime stories.

— birthday

Leia’s birthdays had always been overshadowed by the much more important Empire Day, a festive no planet of the Empire could escape. Her parents used to sit down with her for an hour at least, both making time in their busy schedules to have sweets with her and give Leia their presents. After Alderaan’s destruction, Leia had never stopped to think about her birthdays. She’d forgotten it twice and only remembered it when Luke mentioned offhandedly that it was his birthday while they were stuck together hiding from bounty hunters.

The war wasn’t over now, far from it, but a year after the Emperor’s death, Leia could celebrate, wanted to celebrate her birth and that of her twin’s. She’d missed enough years with him, she didn't want to miss another.

— tomorrow

Today they partied. They cheered and danced and got so blackout drunk they wouldn’t be able to hear the desperate screams of their friends’ dying breaths. Tomorrow they would burn flags for their dead. They would pack up their base and rush to a new system to hide in.

— oppression

Biggs could have had a comfortable life on Tatooine. His family was well-established and he’d earn enough money to live a good life, but Biggs had always dreamed of the stars. But even more than that, he’d yearned for a free galaxy. The Darklighters had kept their last name when they became free, Biggs great-grandmother hadn’t ever wanted to pretend she came from somewhere that was not oppression, but the people around them had forgotten it more and more with each year that passed.

Skywalker, on the other hand, was so glaringly a slave name, people took notice.

Tatooine bred two kinds of people, those who resisted and those who sought to establish their cruel system. If they had just one or two pilots more, a chance to get off this planet, the rebels would be overrun with help from the Hutt space.

— agony

Leia stared at the people in front of her, wondering whether they were serious pilots or a bunch of teenagers.

“You don’t understand,” Hobbie insisted. “It’s agony. You’re our only hope, Senator.”

“I’m busy,” Leia said and walked past them. Honestly, Luke and Biggs were adults, they could solve their fight on their own. Interfering would only make it worse.

“Please! They won’t even talk to each other!”

Leia rolled her eyes. If they already weren’t talking anymore, they were already done fighting and just trying to figure out who needed to apologize first.

“Busy!”

— return

Luke wondered what it said about himself that he’d been so reluctant to return to Tatooine, even when he knew that Han was here and they had to free him. Perhaps it was because he could still smell the ashes of his burned childhood home. Or maybe because he could hear the desert scream at him, beg him to save their children.

But he couldn’t. Not today.

He’d be back again, he knew then. Free the remaining slaves as the Jedi had ought to do decades ago, teardown the makeshift grave he’d made for his parents, and maybe watch in amusement as Biggs’ mother would be forced to treat him politely as her son-in-law.

— protection

“Don’t forget to use protection!” Wedge shouted, as always the loudest of the Rogues.

Right beside him, Hobbie laughed. “And close the doors if you’re busy!”

Wes, the last remaining member of the original Death Star Red Squadron only snorted and shook his head. “They’re going on a mission, guys.”

“Undercover!”

“Without supervision!”

“Left alone for the first time in- uck.”

Biggs had thrown a pillow at Wedge, while Luke hadn’t even bothered to turn around. No, he had a husband to protect his honor.

— boxes

They exchanged gifts near midnight while the party showed no sign of ending, but the day was almost over.

“What is this?” Luke asked and for a split-second, Leia was angry at her parents. How could her father let them be split up? Luke should have grown up together with her on Alderaan, known their customs as well as she did.

“They’re marriage cords,” Leia explained. “Siblings make them for each other when they get married. I’m…” Leia quickly counted the years. “Nine years late, but I wanted you to have one. We usually put them in our hair during the wedding and keep them as necklaces or bracelets after.”

“Oh.” Luke examined the sky blue cords Leia had spent weeks fussing over. “Can you help me put them in? I don’t know how exactly.”

“Of course. Do I get to open my present before?”

“Yes!”

Luke eagerly pushed a small box into her hands. Leia opened it carefully and took out the bright purple crystal out of the box. Her brother looked a little sheepish, but there was an edge to his expression of which Leia knew that it meant that this was important to him.

“I know you said you prefer blasters and would leave the Jedi-ing to me, but the galaxy’s better off when we’re together.”

She grinned and elbowed Luke. “Don’t start complaining when I kick your ass, little brother.”

“I have it on good authority that I’m actually the older one-“

— hope

When Biggs finally returned to Yavin IV, he was exhausted. It was daytime on the moon, everyone seemed to be outside, running around, but all he really wanted to do was drop in his bed and sleep for the next twenty-four hours.

“Good morning, Commander Darklighter!”

The young boy who had greeted Biggs was dressed in loose tonics, looking much happier and comfortable than he had half a year ago when they’d found him and another two dozen children in an imperial training facility. He hadn’t gotten out of his habit of calling people by their titles yet, but his night terrors had lessened considerably and Biggs counted it as a win.

“Morning, Finn,” Biggs greeted. “And who is this little lady?”

The little girl hiding behind Finn mustered him curiously. She couldn’t be much older than four if Biggs were to guess.

“This is Rey Skywalker,” Finn said. “She’s new. Master Luke found her on Jakku. He’s training with the Padawans right now, do you want me to take you?”

Skywalker, she was another one of their many nameless and abandoned children then.

“I’d like that,” Biggs said and crouched down. “It’s nice to meet you Rey. My name is Biggs. I’m usually in charge of making sure our Jedi Master is behaving.”

He held out his hand and little Rey, new hope for a new age, took it.

— preparation

There were four of them, five if you counted Luke. Out of thirty, five had made it back from the Death Star. The other squadrons weren’t faring much better, there was a lot of reshuffling to be done.

“We need a name,” Hobbie decided, the oldest of them all at twenty-six. It seemed a little bit like a macabre joke.

“Five rogue pilots? We’re not gonna be a new squadron. They’ll split us up,” Wes tossed in, anger coloring his voice. He’d been with the Red Squadron the longest, lost the most friends. Despite his words, he had marched with the rest of them to the first empty room near the hangers, not awaiting room assignment. None of them were really preparing to be split up.

“So we tell them we’re a team,” Luke said, shrugging. “They can’t do anything about it then.”

Biggs wanted to protest. That really wasn’t how the Alliance worked, and yet when he opened his mouth, the words were lost to him. Luke got this air about him sometimes, like he knew whatever was saying was the truth and nothing but the truth.

“Rogue Squadron,” Wedge decided. “We should be the Rogue Squadron. We made the Death Star shot, we finished what they started, we’ll take their name. I’ll be Rogue Two.”

Wedge hadn’t been at Scarif, he’d been in medical at the time, but Tellem had been and they had died there. Biggs had never known what exactly their relationship was, and now it was too late.

“Rogue Three,” Biggs said instead.

“Four,” Wes added, while Hobbie claimed Rogue Five for himself.

That only left Luke and it seemed obvious now where he belonged.

— beautiful

“You’re beautiful.”

Biggs snorted.

“I’m old and gray and no, I’m not going to go pick up the Padawans in the jungle with you. Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Skywalker.”

Luke laughed and sat up. “Oh, I’m pretty sure it’ll get me everywhere.”

After all these years, Biggs still felt like that clumsy sixteen-year-old with a crush on the loveliest person he knew. He’d thought of himself as so grown up then already, but looking back, he knew they had been children still, much too young for the decisions they would make.

“If we pick the kids up with a ship, how much longer can we stay in bed?”

Going by the speed at which Luke made himself comfortable next to Biggs again, he assumed they could stay like this at least another hour.

— lies

“He’s my father!” Luke finally shouted, cut off from the rest of their squadron, stuck in a jungle on some Force-forsaken planet in the middle of nowhere.

In the desert, you learned how to be silent, least of all you attract womp rats or raiders or even more dangerous beings. Luke rarely raised his voice but now, admitting the truth, he was shouting at the storm inside his mind.

“Darth Vader is your father,” Biggs repeated.

He wanted to tell him to stop lying, except it made terribly sense. Luke’s wanted posters never named him as the Death Star Shot, and they demanded that he was to be brought in not only alive, but unharmed.

“But you’re still Luke Skywalker,” Biggs continued.

He pulled Luke back into his arms and, as so often in the last months, hoped they’d get a break from fighting the Empire, fighting for Justice.

— underneath

Han opened the secret compartment of the Falcon, hoping everybody would be alright. Three bright-eyed kids looked back up at him and not for the first time, did Han wonder why he of all people always ended up smuggling Jedi brats through the galaxy. He was married to Leia, Senator of New Alderaan and Jedi Knight, and he was a pretty well-known figure as well. He really shouldn’t be cut out for undercover work still after so many years.

“Thank you, General Organa,” the oldest of the brats said and climbed out of the hatch.

“Don’t sweat it.”

— hide

Watching the tiny Skywalker and Darklighter interact was one of Rex’s favorite past times. They were so much like General Skywalker and Senator Amidala, it was almost funny. Always searching for the other when they were in the same room, making eye-contact, the cheesy flirting toned down to keep an air of professionalism – Rex could go on and on.

The only difference was that they didn’t have to hide.

Commander Skywalker rushed past Darklighter and gave him a quick peck on the lips before chasing after some new recruits. Rex wondered if perhaps his parents would be here now too, fighting alongside them, if they hadn’t been forced to keep their relationship a secret.

— diary

“He knew, you know,” Luke told Leia. “Ben- Obi-Wan. He knew about our parents’ relationship, but he kept it a secret anyway because Father would have been thrown out of the Order and Mother would have lost her seat in the Senate. He wrote about it in his journal.”

Leia had wanted to get her hands on Obi-Wan Kenobi’s journal ever since her brother had given her the purple kyber crystal that accompanied Leia everywhere. It was difficult to figure out how to construct a lightsaber without any reference texts, but Luke had been busy.

“So all of this could have been avoided with a few changed laws?” Leia asked, already knowing the answer.

Of course, it wasn’t this easy. Tracking down how deep Palpatine’s machinations had ran took up most of her time. Leia still resented Vader and she didn’t think she’d ever care for him the way Luke did, but there was something horrifying about reading through a Sith Lord’s observations of a bright twelve-year-old child meant for greatness. Leia could never mourn Vader, but in the quiet presence of her brother she allowed herself to mourn Anakin Skywalker.

— unforeseen

Biggs didn’t believe it when he saw a tuft of blonde hair, the color of spun gold, during the meeting. Wedge had mentioned that the princess had been returned by a farm boy and a smuggler, but he didn’t think of Luke. He was still back on Tatooine, waiting for Biggs to come pick him up. He’d been meaning to go a few weeks ago, but the Alliance had needed him more. Now Luke was within reach, and yet, even when Biggs could clearly see his face, just across the hall, he couldn’t believe it.

— conditional

“These terms are non-negotiable, Skywalker,” Fett said.

His blaster was still pointed at Biggs’ temple. The bounty hunter would kill him before either could move.

“Fine.” Luke threw away his lightsaber. “I come with you, but he stays alive. Those are my conditions.”

Fett agreed and tossed a pair of handcuffs at Luke, shooting Biggs’ leg in the same motion. Biggs shouted and dropped to his knees.

“He’s alive, now come on, Jedi.”

— gone

He had missed twenty years, two decades, too much time his son should have been at his side. Padmé was gone, Vader had returned to Naboo to examine her grave, to ensure that this hadn’t been yet another trick played on him, that she hadn’t betrayed him once more.

Vader had always thought their child would be a girl with Padmé’s coloring and maybe his blue eyes. She had been fond of them. He wondered what Luke looked like beyond the red haze of Vader’s vision.

— clear

“Are you threatening me?” Biggs asked, trying to figure out why Han Solo was metaphorically waving his blaster in Biggs’ face.

Han nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest. The two of them were almost the same height, but Biggs was tired and slouching while Han was standing with his back straight.

“Yes, it’s tradition. Luke is my friend. I figured nobody else had done it on his behalf. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Biggs replied.

— heartache

“He’s stupid!” Leia ranted. “And ignorant and arrogant and petulant and-“

“Important to you?” Luke interrupted her.

Leia glared at him, then dropped face-first onto her bed and groaned. It was strange seeing her so childish. Around everyone else, she acted much more serious, never said a word about how she was feeling. Luke thought it might be because everyone called her “Princess” first and by her rank second, making it easier for themselves to talk over her.

But the two of them clicked well. Sometimes it surprised Luke that they hadn’t been friends since childhood, teasing each other about their crushes and heartache.

“One day I’m going to kiss Han to shut him up,” Leia vowed.

— wired

There were always a lot of droids on their bases, especially around the hanger where most of the repairs took place and the pilots kept their astromechs, except Luke’s of course. Artoo always followed his Master or, in his absence, his Master’s companion.

“Your droid has some loose wiring,” one of their mechanics said.

Artoo had left one Master once, he wouldn’t leave a second.

— insanity

Watching Luke train was fascinating. He was right in his element, all the habits that made Luke a little strange fit so suddenly. You couldn’t spent half your life in love with Luke Skywalker and end up thinking he was normal. Biggs recalled the stories the Clone Wars’ veterans on base told of the leaders they always called their Jedi, loyal to the end. They sounded like ethereal warriors with too bright eyes, always a little too aware of their surroundings. It was almost too easy to picture Luke as one of them. It wasn’t insane to imagine him bringing back the Order he belonged to now.

Biggs wouldn’t mind. Hell, he’d be right out there with him helping. If Luke set his mind on something, he could do it.

— foolish

“Marry me,” Biggs said.

“What?” Luke thought he had misheard Biggs.

“Let’s get married,” his boyfriend repeated, grinning like a love-sick fool. “So you’ll always know I’m going to come back for you.”

“We can’t. My uncle-“

“So we’ll do it in secret,” Biggs argued. “No one but us has to know.”

Marrying in secret was nothing unusual on Tatooine. It was often enough that couples couldn’t be together openly, Hutt rule prevented that kind of freedom. Luke had always thought his wedding would be different.

“We’re not slaves,” Luke said stubbornly. They shouldn’t have to do anything in secret, they were free people and few things had ever been as important to Luke as reminding others of it.

“I know. I know Luke Skywalker, freeborn child of Anakin, child of Shmi, child of the desert. I know you and I want to marry you.”

Luke stared at him in disbelief, giving Biggs a chance to take back his words, but his best friend was still serious, unwilling to budge. Luke was strong, stubborn too, but not enough to deny himself this.

“We don’t have any water!” He finally blurted out. “We need water. And japor pieces.”

“Is that a yes?”

Luke leaned forward until his forehead was resting against Biggs’. “Of course, I’m saying yes.”

— words

He was silent at his father’s funeral. He could hear the people celebrating in the distance, but right in front of the funeral pyre where Anakin Skywalker’s prison laid burning, Luke couldn’t say a word.

— study

“Master Yoda told me to pass on what I’ve learned,” Luke said and dropped the datapads in frustration. “But there’s so much I don’t know! How am I supposed to bring back the Jedi if I don’t even know half of what their Padawans had to know?”

He’d spent hours upon hours reading through his Father’s archive. He barely managed to get through one text without having to look up another and another- A lot of it didn’t make sense to him and half of it he didn’t even understand.

Whenever he told one of the others, they just said he’d manage with some more studying, but Luke was starting to lose faith. Where did one start to study without a teacher?

Master Yoda had called him a Jedi Knight, Luke wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

— love

Luke didn’t know how to love gradually. Unlike his Father, as he’d later learn, Luke’s love wasn’t all-consuming, going further than it should. He cared for his pilots, for his friends, his sister, and his father. Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader, but Darth Vader was also Anakin Skywalker or he wouldn’t have chased after his son for years. Once that knowledge settled in his mind, Luke loved his father. It gave him the strength to throw away his lightsaber, to come in peace instead of war. He’d never excuse Vader’s actions and he’d never give more than he could, but Luke loved and the galaxy was a better place for it.

— skies

“Rogue Squadron reporting for duty, Sir,” Luke said.

He knew that the rest of High Command didn’t really know what to make of him. He was young, he was short and he had a lightsaber he was only just now figuring out how to use. The sky, though? That Luke knew. He didn’t know how to be a Jedi, but he knew how to fly and soar through the sky.

He could be a pilot.

He would be.

— stars

“I want to see the stars, all of them,” Luke said, proud that his voice didn’t crack even once. It had started breaking a while ago, much to everyone’s amusement.

“All of them? That will take a while.” Biggs was teasing him, but Luke knew his friend yearned for the stars just as much as he did.

“A whole lifetime!”

Luke couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do.

— lucky

Luke closed his eyes. He had to make this shot. Failure was not an option. What was, was.

Back on Tatooine, people always said Luke was a lucky one. He may not have had the most money, but he always managed to pick the best droids and ship parts for the few credits he did have. Shooting womp rats half-blind with sand making his eyes tear wasn’t more difficult than this.

He just had to focus.

— shake

“This is Rogue Three, I’ve picked up some annoying imps and I can’t shake them.”

“Rogue Twelve here. I’m helping you out. Where’s your wingman?”

“Busy getting shot at- I just got that wing repaired, don’t aim at it, you stupid-“

“Rogue Six, has anybody got their eyes on our fearless leader?”

“Rogue Two, I’m still following Luke- kriff, shit, oh, no, no-“

“What’s going on there? Wedge, what the heck’s going on?”

“TIE fighters, three of them- fuck, that’s Death Squadron! Everybody retreat! Get out! Hail command and tell them we need back up! Now!”

— punctual

Biggs pulled up, just in time to avoid the shot from the TIE fighter behind him and spun, just like he used to back home, causing the enemy pilot to crash into the wall. Biggs resumed his position as Luke’s guard, sure that once more he wouldn’t be able to make it. Instead of falling into a panic, remembering the names and faces of the decimated Red Squadron, Biggs forced himself to look ahead. They’d make it, he told himself. There was no fear. The winds of Tatooine carried them forward and Biggs watched as Luke made his shot. Even before the hit landed, he was already pulling up, ready to give Luke cover so they could escape in time before the Death Star blew them up as well.

Biggs knew Luke had done the impossible.

They escaped the Death Star as fast as they could, passing the wreckage of a bloodless battlefield.

“Red three, are you with me?” Luke’s voice echoed over the comms.

“Yeah,” Biggs replied. “Like I’d ever leave you alone. I promised, remember?”

They were both laughing and crying when they got out of their ships. Biggs pulled Luke into a hug, desperation and utter joy overwhelming him, so very similar to that last night on Tatooine.

They had survived.

#star wars #Luke Skywalker #biggs darklighter #skylighter #leia organa #Han Solo #the rogue squad ended up playing a way bigger role than i though they would #fanfic #almost 6.000 words my dudes #in one day #that'S what the cool kids call #'i didn't work on my essay'#look at me go tossing all my worldbuilding in here again #i just have feelings about Alderaan alright

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milliethekitty27-writing · 4 years

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Bees

There are many kinds of bees.

Honeybees, for one. They’re sweet, and soft. They work hard to make food to feed their ever growing families. Bumblebees hum loudly and cheerfully and visit every flower with the same eagerness they do any other. Carpenter bees burrow into the wood to make their nests, carving beautiful tunnels that can stretch for what feels like miles. Little mason bees zip along as fast as they can, then tuck themselves in their homes after a hard day’s work.

Bees are hardworking. They are loyal. They work for the good of the community, they love hard and they stand strong against any threat to their hive, even at the cost of their life. They are stubborn and headstrong, they are passionate for their work and they love to be busy. They hum and dance and love.

Most of Pollen’s bees died in defense of the hive. The rest of the Kwamis and their users, or even family or friends, escape while she and her bees buy them time. They stand in confidence and they protect what is theirs, even when there seems to be no point. They do it for their families, for their beliefs, for their homes. They do it because they think it is the right thing to do.

She has had honeybees. Honeybees like Sofi, her little Dutch baker. She had helped her mother when her brother and her father went to war. She had done her part and protected her home. She’d passed on messages and she loved her family, she had volunteered with nurses and turned her cheek at the foreign soldier boys who had no reason to be standing in her home. She had made bread for her neighbors and shared what she had with those who needed it. She had loved her family, her friends, and her people. Pollen had been proud of her. Bij shared food, shared news, tried to help in the ways she could without risking her family even when there was no hope. Pollen had watched her grow into what would have been a beautiful queen if she had not been struck down by green gas that tore into your lungs until you lost all air. Pollen had been sold in an attempt to get more flour to survive a war like no other.

She has had bumble bees. While Plagg broke the Ottomans and Tikki played in England, long before the most recent Ladybug and Chat Noir, Pollen had lived in France. François had been bright and gentle and soft, hard working and not very bright, but he had had a big heart and a soft soul. He had fought for what he believed to be right and Pollen had watched him grow from a gentle farm boy into a child of the Revolution. Frelon’s sword had taken many a man down in protection of the friends he made, in defense of his beliefs and the country he was falling in love with. He had marched across Europe with a great emperor king and he had dropped her in Prussia. She’d fallen out of his jacket pocket and he hadn’t noticed. He had never come back to get her.

Her favorite of her mason bees had been a young man in China, centuries ago. Bohai was strong and capable and very bright. He built great ships to sail far away, but he’d never been tempted to sail with them. He had lived a quiet, good life, and Mìfēng had only gone for those who hurt those he loved, for those who were weak, because he had come from little and worked hard enough to better himself. Bohai had fallen when someone attacked his family for the money kept in a pretty blue jar, for the little glittering gems in his wife’s ears and around her throat. His son had been barely a year old and he was left fatherless, but not motherless because Bohai had bought time for her to escape with a box of Kwami in her arms, jewels at her throat, and a baby across her back.

Her most recent carpenter bee was Olga, who had picked her up and decided to keep her. She was strong and determined and loved her husband and children with all her heart. She had worked in a factory, making cars, with her beautiful pin hidden in an old threadbare jacket. War came. Olga kept the pin in her jacket and took flight with women who’d lost too much and Kayf flew threw the sky. When Olga’s beloved Dmitri had been struck, left on the battlefield, she had changed too.

Bees change slowly, you see. It takes a great deal to turn them into war machines. Bees don’t sting until they’re driven to.

Olga had turned into a hornet, grieving and angry with those who’d stolen her husband and the father of her children and a good man, and Pollen had not blamed her. Pollen understood, you see, what it was to lose a hive and feel like you could do nothing. Olga had taken her plane as far as she could before she crashed and burned. Kayf became Osa but it killed Olga in the end. Pollen was found by a gentle woman who drove her hive to safety and brought to Poland, where it had been safer, and eventually found her way to Fu and then to a France she hadn’t seen since François.

Her British bee, Elizabeth, had wanted nothing more than to strike out at those who held her down, who forced her children to work more hours in a day than they could afford for so little money that they starved, who forced her husband and brothers into mines where they lost their breath forever, who drove her father to drink and killed her body but not her spirit. When Pollen found her, Miss Bee had been young and hopeful in the way that children often are, but she had lost that spark with age. Her striped coat had turned yellow in her anger and Yellow Wasp had screamed her rage in the streets of a great city that hated her lack of wealth. She threw chairs through windows and waved signs in the cobblestone streets, demanding change that would not come in her lifetime.

Oh yes, her bees could be wasps. Her little honey bees could become the fiercest warriors of their hives when they were threatened. Her first holder had been such a warrior. He had protected the monastery she’d first lived in with all the power he could muster. He had been born as a bumble bee, then turned into a wasp to protect his nest and those he cared for. He fell protecting the box and those who lived inside.

Bees are not always angry. They can calm, they can be serene, they can turn from warriors to workers as often as it takes. Those bees who survived would often return to their gentle natures, their work, and their hives. Pollen had seen it time and time again. Most bees are builders, you see. They build their hives, they work to support it in jobs they love, and they do what they have to do to protect it and those inside. They have many different types and many different lives. They can be warriors and farmers or bakers and mothers or kings and scholars. Bees make their hives strong and protect what is in it. It is your heart, your courage, that matters, not your position in life.

Creativity and Destruction are always there. They balance each other, they work together and against each other and make the world what it is. But they are nothing without the bees that keep their hive clean and safe and working, that protect and love more fiercely than they could dream. Bees are workers. They are warriors. They work for the good of the group because that is what will bring peace and harmony. The bee works because it loves to, it serves because it must. A bee serves because it loves.

Pollen wonders how long it will take her newest little Queen to learn this.

-----

Thank you for reading!

I think Pollen is one of the most interesting of the Kwami and while I might not like bees, I like her and I like Chloe when she’s not being a problem. (so… never) I wish we got more backstory on the miraculous users of old.

In case it wasn’t clear: Bij was a baker’s daughter in World War I. Frelon was a farm boy with big dreams during the French Revolution. Mìfēng was a Chinese man married to the Guardian sometime before 1525, which is when the Ming dynasty scuttled their navy. Kayf/Osa was a Soviet factory worker during World War II. Miss Bee/Yellow Wasp was a working class woman in Victorian England. The new little Queen refers to Chloe.

#writing #fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #historical miraculous ladybug #bee miraculous #kwami pollen #can chloe get a little redemption please #like not a lot but she has promise #I just want more pollen please

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no6secretsanta · 4 years

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Apples and Elbow Room

For the incredible @iwatch-theworld I was so excited to get to write for you and it’s been a blast. I hope you enjoy this!!!!!!

- @secretagentfan

It wasn’t as though Shion had a problem with apples. Four apples typically rested in a bowl on top of his—no—their microwave and were restocked regularly. Apples were versatile: apple pie, apple sauce, apple strudel, apples with peanut butter; travel-sized—he could eat them on his way to work and they fit easily into his bike basket! They were perfect for a snack after a meeting, no preparation, all he had to do was unwrap and chew. Wow, actually, Shion loved apples.

Crunch.

The problem was: Nezumi loved apples too.

Two months. It had been two months since Shion had convinced the most attractive person he had ever met to move in with him. Nezumi, who arrived with storms, and brought only what he could carry on his back. Nezumi, who filled the uncharted, unlovable, corners of Shion’s soul with sun-dappled forests. Nezumi, who, after years of survival, travel, and soul-searching apparently never learned how to quietly consume a piece of fruit.

Crunch.

Shion was not going to be able to continue his usual mid-afternoon nap like this. He stood up, accidentally kicking a new translation of the Miser off the bed. He shut his eyes. Even though Nezumi only brought what he could carry, that had not stopped him from buying what amounted to a whole bookstore—and no bookshelves— for Shion’s apartment.

Crunch.

“Nezumi, we should kiss now.”

The offer echoed in the bedroom, louder than it had any right to. Nezumi had only just slid under their covers, shining new copy of The Misanthrope in one hand, apple in the other. He froze mid-bite: mouth hovering a couple inches from the fruit he was only (oh god) halfway through.

“Did I seduce you somehow?” His voice was airy. Shion would call it sexy, but he hadn’t put the apple down yet and the crunching was still at the forefront of his mind.

“No,” Shion admitted.

“Do I even want to know your reasoning, then?”

“Probably not.”

Nezumi’s eyebrows tilted inward and raised, just so, as he set his book down. He looked at Shion as if he were a dancing street monkey and pulled a tissue from the box on their bedside table with the air of a lounging emperor plucking a grape out of a servant’s hand.

He set the apple down on the tissue, tilted his head to one side then to the other, cracking his neck, and waited. Shion slumped further into the pillows in a way he hoped was alluring. The corners of Nezumi’s mouth quirked upward.

“How does the mysterious Shion want to kiss, then?”

Shion blinked. He didn’t do much thinking when it came to kissing. It usually just…happened. Unreliably. At unexpected, beautiful moments. Like what now could be.

“How?” he repeated.

“Yes, Shion. How. You issued an invitation less than a minute ago, if you remember correctly.”

The mattress squeaked as Nezumi lazily crawled over Shion, flopping on top of him with an ease that warmed Shion to the tips of his ears. He was heavy. Shion ran his fingers through Nezumi’s hair, cut during his travels, and placed his hands on his shoulders. He stopped. Raised both eyebrows. Took his hands off Nezumi’s shoulders.

“Do you need guidance?” Nezumi asked, voice low enough to make Shion’s toes curl. Or rather, it would have, if Shion wasn’t now distracted. Nezumi cleared his throat. “Shion?”

“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about your shoulders.”

“I– my shoulders?”

“They’re broad now. You’ve really filled out.”

Shion wrapped his arms around Nezumi, hands resting open-palmed on his back, feeling the space between each shoulder blade.

“Shion do you want to make out or not?”

“You never accepted my original invitation,” Shion pointed out, unable to resist the impulse to be difficult. Nezumi’s breath huffed against his nose. Shion grinned. “Luckily, my offer remains the same, Nezumi.”

Arms snaked under Shion’s waist. Nezumi’s nose tickled Shion’s hair, a little colder than the rest of him, which made Shion smile. His lips brushed Shion’s forehead, then over his right temple, just barely; any remaining annoyance Shion still felt dripped away. Two months. Had it really only been two months?

Two years had nothing on the way Nezumi’s breath felt against Shion’s lips as he leaned closer.

“Very well then, Shion,” Nezumi began, the hint of a laugh in his voice. “Past distractions aside: allow me to formally accept your invitation.”

“Good,” Shion replied, and pulled Nezumi down the centimeter required to mack his face off. His hands rubbed up and down Nezumi’s back, carefully brushing the raised skin of his scar and catching in his night shirt. In his mind, he heard a storm, and felt a familiar tug at his heartstrings: the age-old desire to protect the warm, solid body in his arms.

The thing was, Shion was exceptionally skilled at loving Nezumi from far away. Working, shopping, and living and breathing—his love of Nezumi during their separation was a precious foothold in a chaotic world, unshakable— carried in his core as easily as his ribs, his heart. His love was a compass, guiding him from a world away.

Now, Nezumi was not a world away, he was here. In Shion’s space, sleeping on his—their couch, or buried in a pile of books. Or maybe he was out, on a walk or at an audition, but he’d leave behind the signs of him, a rock he found at the park, a dog-eared script, a bag of chips he was hoarding for later. Nezumi was not a compass. He was…a bit of a mess to clean up after actually. Not a pillar, but a human. How had Shion forgotten? Nezumi was infuriating.

“Nezumi and I are incredibly compatible,” Shion concluded.

Evidently this was not the thing to say while Safu was refilling her coffee as she spilled it all over the table when she burst out laughing. “Safu!“

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” Safu mopped up the spilled coffee with a handful of napkins, covering her mouth with her other hand in a polite attempt to get the unfriendly café staff to stop shooting them nasty looks for being loud and destructive.

They had gotten coffee here every Thursday for four years, and never once had the staff greeted them with a smile or any degree of familiarity. Most people hated this place for its unfriendly atmosphere. For Safu and Shion, who more often than not were caught up in interviews or Reconstruction meetings, not having to talk to one more person with a fake smile was ideal. The hours they had spent in this miserable little coffee shop were some of the most precious in Shion’s adult life.

“I was being serious, Safu! I feel very strongly about this! We are–”

“Please, Shion, please stop talking,” Safu wheezed. Shion felt his face heat and he obediently sipped his coffee. Safu shook her head, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Please tell me– how did we go from Nezumi’s concerning apple habit to this?”

Shion wanted to hide his face in the table. “I felt as though I should say something else. Something that wasn’t a complaint about him.”

“Shion, do you want me to speak honestly?”

No, Shion thought pathetically, his stomach sinking. I want you to say what I want to hear, sometimes.

Safu smiled at him, and he relaxed slightly. As harsh and direct as Safu could be, especially in all matters concerning Nezumi (and Nezumi’s four-year absence), she was honest. Straightforward, and sincere as she always was.

Whatever she had to say, Shion knew he probably needed to hear it. He nodded.

“You two are perhaps the least compatible people I have ever met.”

Shion winced. Safu held up a finger. “But that’s not news. Compatibility by definition is just a couple’s capacity to avoid conflict. You two have been in direct conflict since you were born, and yet somehow, you’ve managed to do some incredible things together. Of course, Nezumi hasn’t been around for everything, which you know my feelings about.”

Shion did. At length. He nodded.

“You’re not compatible. Not remotely, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be together, or that you’re never going to stay together. After all, you already have lived together once, haven’t you?”

“That’s true,” Shion said. “And it wasn’t as though we always got along then, either.”

Shion remembered more than once having to take a walk in the cold with one of Inukashi’s guard dogs because Nezumi was driving him out of his mind. How Nezumi would sometimes get so angry or anxious that he would either disappear somewhere or sit in the corner and read aggressively for hours.

“But it still worked out. You two understood each other where it mattered, eventually. So communicate with him. And communicate with him like an adult.”

“Like an adult,” Shion repeated, then frowned. Communication seemed so simple when it was purely hypothetical. In practice however… Shion had lost track of how many committee deals both he and Safu had botched because of her temper or his bluntness. Amateur mistakes. He couldn’t risk those with Nezumi, not now when their relationship wasn’t exactly new—but filled with unknowns.

“Thank you, Safu.”

Safu just waved her hand. She took a moment to rub the crease between her eyebrows. Shion watched as her fingers massaged up and down and shifted her bangs to the side. For a moment, Shion could see the faint outline of the scar from No. 6’s machines that crossed through the center of her forehead. All thoughts of apples and incompatibility left his head.

“Do you have a headache?”

“Yes,” Safu replied. “You. But that is nothing new.”

Safu dropped her hand from her forehead to punch him gently on the shoulder. Shion felt himself smile, infinitely grateful.

“It’s my turn to pay for coffee this week, isn’t it?” He offered, changing the subject.

“Yes, it is. That said, I was the one who spilled it, so I’ve got this one. Pour me another though– I need it after the day I’ve had.”

“Tell me about it.”

By the time they left the café, their coffee had been cold for hours.

Years of conditioning, self-defense mechanisms, and plain old dramatic flair were at play the second Nezumi entered the public eye. Shion was used to watching him transform from the private, petty boy he fell in love with to the dangerously sleek man that everyone naturally cleared a way for. Shion like to think he loved both sides of Nezumi equally, but the day Nezumi saw the New City’s grocery for the first time, it was the bright, amazed eyes of the boy in him, not the man, that made Shion’s heart soar.

Thanks to the committee’s efforts in irrigation projects for West block, a mountain of carefully-signed paperwork, and years of health testing for biotechnology– fresh produce was not only affordable to citizens but generously distributed outside the city limits.

Shion was fairly certain Nezumi had never seen that much fresh food before in his life, and it showed.

Even now, Nezumi would tag along on grocery store trips just to extend Shion’s trip by hours, ogling heads of lettuce and buying far too much. Nezumi’s budgeting system at age 16 was an 90-10 split between food and emergencies: and judging by his usual grocery cart, his budgeting had only evolved as much to include books and nothing else.

Their time together had formed a sort of pattern when grocery shopping: Nezumi pulling what felt like one of everything off the shelves, and Shion surreptitiously returning what they didn’t need when his back was turned.

My very own Penelope, undoing all my work.

Penelope undid her own work, Nezumi.

Fair enough.

It was good, and it worked for them, and the life in Nezumi’s eyes made occasionally buying 3 different versions of the same milk “Just to see if there’s a difference” absolutely worth it.

Today though, unfortunately, Nezumi was stuck in produce. Particularly the apples.

“Nezumi!” Shion attempted, “Look, cherries are in season!”

Nezumi smiled, secret, and added a box to their cart. “Thinking of making a cake?”

“Of course. And…” Shion tried to keep his voice level as possible. “They make great snacks. If you grab another box, you’ll be able to eat them all day.”

“Pass.”

Nezumi’s voice was firm enough that Shion blinked a few times.

“Did…something happen with cherries in your travels?”

“No.” Nezumi stared at the box for a long moment, and then added, voice darkening. “They have pits. What kind of tiny fruit has a huge pit right in the middle?”

Shion spoke carefully. “Nezumi, have you tried to eat a cherry whole before?”

Nezumi scowled.

“I can’t believe it.”

“Don’t start. I’m not getting cherries for anything besides cake, asshole.”

He then moved to the apples. Shion’s laughter stopped. He had to think fast.

“What about oranges? Those don’t even have a center like apples—”

“You are really on it about apples, Shion. Embarrassed by your impulses?” Nezumi’s grin was just this side of smug. Shion’s heart stuttered like a broken propeller.

“What—I.”

“You think I haven’t noticed the fact that every time I eat an apple you suddenly feel romance in the air?”

Communicate like an adult, Safu’s voice echoed in his brain.

Right, Shion agreed. He felt the words “you are a really loud apple cruncher”on his tongue, ready to go. But Nezumi was looking at him seriously, bag full of apples in his hand, with his new broad shoulders and short hair, and for a brief moment, Shion felt like he was looking at a different person.

“You got me,” Shion blurted.

“What?” replied Nezumi. “Wait seriously? You’re…into apples?”

Shion felt his soul chip off. Safu was never going to let him hear the end of this. “Just a little.”

Nezumi was silent for a long moment.

“Just when I think you can’t get any weirder…you pull this.”

Still staring at Shion, he added two more bags of apples to the cart. Shion’s face matched the reddest of them.

There were apples everywhere. On the sofa, the kitchen counter, by the bedside and even on Shion’s pillow. Since Nezumi was between shows, he had hours to prepare the apartment, which translated to filling it with as many apples as physically possible. Shion had some regrets. That said, in spite of the concerning number of apples and knowing looks, Nezumi hadn’t actually brought up Shion’s statement. He had been bizarrely quiet. Saturday morning changed that.

Crunch.

Nezumi was half-laying on the couch, head on the arm, with his feet in Shion’s lap. Shion was valiantly trying to ignore him by reading the newspaper, but every crunch forced him to start over the line he was currently reading. A true Sisyphean task.

“So is it the taste or the texture?” Nezumi asked between bites.

“The taste or texture of what?” Shion asked, without looking up.

“Apples. Seriously, what is it about them that gets to you? I’ve been running possibilities through my head for the last couple days and it just doesn’t line up. I have to know.”

The newspaper crinkled in Shion’s hands, he shut his eyes. Of course Nezumi was not going to let this quietly die.

“Do we have to talk about this?”

“Oh yes,” Nezumi said. “It’s Saturday. I held back and waited for you to finish your important agricultural meetings, so now you’re going to sit right there, Shion, and explain your apple kink to me.”

Shion could feel his face heating, but shock actually forced his blush down.

“You waited for my meetings to finish?”

Nezumi raised his eyebrows. “Was that an error?” He didn’t wait for Shion to reply and rubbed the apple he was eating against Shion’s arm as obnoxiously as possible. The apple skin was smooth and impossible to ignore. Shion’s heart beat in his ears. Nezumi’s voice sounded far away.

“Seriously, Shion, how is this sexy?”

“Do you think I’m the same person I was four years ago?” Shion asked.

Nezumi blinked. His apple was still firmly pressed against Shion’s bicep. “What?”

Shion stared at his newspaper. “Four years felt like a short amount of time when I was living it, there was so much to do, but I don’t know lately.”

Nezumi breathed in, seeming to recalibrate, and slowly set his apple on the nightstand. He was frowning. Nezumi’s hand covered his, and together, they closed the newspaper.

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“I don’t know,” Shion said, honestly. “I don’t really know what this is about. We’re not sixteen anymore, and I don’t know if that changes nothing, or it means everything.”

The apples, Nezumi’s appearance, his hobbies, his unexpected patience, Safu. Compatibility. Time had passed and left them both behind and now, now they were living together and everything was the same as before but completely, completely different. Shion didn’t know how to reconcile it.

“I dreamed so often of having you back, of living together like this, but the reality of it– the day-to-day–“

“–is pretty fucking weird,” Nezumi finished. Shion blinked at the conviction in his voice. He finally faced him and found Nezumi oddly relaxed. The tightness around his eyes had disappeared and something tight unraveled in Shion’s chest. Shion wondered, for a moment, if he was holding back just as much.

“You think it’s weird too? But we lived together before, so…”

Nezumi huffed.

“Yeah, so we’d have to be ready, right? I thought the same thing. I figured I was relatively prepared, and especially after taking a four-year sabbatical in order to prepare for this– I damn well had to be ready. I really thought I was, but I wasn’t prepared for…Well I wasn’t prepared for annoying each other over stupider shit than starving or freezing. Like pissing you off by eating apples of all things.”

Shion gaped. “You knew?”

“Shion, and you’ve grown a bit more tactful over the last four years, but your face still gives you away completely. I thought you were going to stab me the first time I ate a honey crisp.”

“But you’ve still been–!” Shion stood, waved his arm around their apple filled apartment.

“Oh, yeah. I was messing with you.”

Shion saw red in so many different directions, but it may have just been the apples.

“Honestly, I just was trying to figure out what it would take to get you to tell me, instead of trying to be—whatever you’ve been trying to be lately.”

“Polite,” Shion supplied, and Nezumi laughed again. Shion made eye contact with an apple on the coffee table and felt profoundly ridiculous.

“You’re in my space,” he said, finally.

“Yeah,” Nezumi agreed. “And you’re in mine. You wash dishes really loudly by the way.”

Shion stared at Nezumi for a long moment.

“We’ve climbed a mountain of dead bodies together and we’re struggling with sharing an apartment?”

“This may be the hardest thing we’ve ever done,” Nezumi said, with such seriousness, Shion finally cracked. He laughed, a full laugh, more genuine than he’d felt in months, and rested his cheek on Nezumi’s shoulder.

“Harder than dealing with Elyurias?”

“Completely.”

“Think we’ll survive it?”

Nezumi smiled into Shion’s hair. Shion slowly smiled back, leaning closer.

This conversation was far from over, four years still stretched between them in an unexpectedly gaping chasm, and the house was full of apples– but for the first time, Shion felt like he was ready to deal with it, them, and everything.

“We always have.”

#secretagentfan #iwatch-theworld #no6 #no 6 #no.6 #no. 6 #submission

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honourablejester · 4 years

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D&D Wuxia

So. While on lockdown, I’ve been tinkering randomly with d&d character concepts, mostly out of boredom (I’ve also been playing lots of minecraft). For fun, I decided I’d come up with at least one character concept per d&d race. We’ll see how that goes. But! I’d hit aasimar, and honestly I was struggling? It’s not a race that immediately appeals to me (despite cleric being my instinctive favourite class). I was rooting around for ideas, and two things converged. One, I’ve also been watching cdramas (Story of Yanxi Palace) on and off, and two, I had something vaguely like an aasimar character for a completely different story (actually angel offspring, but sort of close enough), so I borrowed elements of both, and …

Accidentally came up with a vaguely wuxia inspired party?

Sikou Jia, Aasimar Courtier Lore Bard, 64 years old. An auspicious child blessed by the gods, but cursed with greedy parents, he was sold to the Court of the Silver Emperor as a young boy, and spent more than thirty years as a courtier and court functionary. At first he saw this as an opportunity, to bring the visions of his celestial guide (Karuna, neutral good deva) directly to the highest levels, but over time he realised that the machinations of the court poisoned all his efforts, often deliberately. He fell into despair and anger, especially as he suffered mistreatment, and came perilously close to Falling as well, before fate (or divine providence) intervened and he was blessed with a daughter by a lover, who used him cruelly, but gave him the single greatest gift of his life. With a child to consider, he finally mustered his courage and escaped the city altogether, taking his daughter with him. They ran away to the White Mountains, where he (and his daughter as she grew to adulthood) slowly formed an alliance from the scattered bandit clans and misfits of the mountains to be a force for good, as his devic guide wished.

Sikou Lan, Human Outlander Hunter Ranger, 26 years old. (Assuming aasimar kids revert to the base race). Jia’s daughter, gifted to entirely him by her mother when she failed to prove equally blessed. Raised in the wilds of the White Mountains by her slightly paranoid but fiercely devoted father, and taught by the various virtuous(-ish) bandits of his alliance. Fiercely independent, she grew increasingly disdainful of ‘civilisation’ as she grew older and learned more of her father’s and other people’s histories. She was scarred deeply by an encounter with a spectre as young child and by the increasingly haunted nature of the White Mountains (favoured enemy: undead). While she approves of her father’s divine mission, and willingly joins him on it, she sees it as particularly to protect those like themselves, outcasts from the great nations, often in need of protection from those nations. She did get a little bit of her father’s blessed nature, in the form of luck.

Liu Ling, Wood Elf Hermit Open Hand Monk, 247 years old. Tormented in her youth by what she felt were loose passions and a lack of clarity, she found solace in the teachings of a great teacher (Xu Xinyi) at Tenshi Peak Hermitage. Though her teacher eventually moved on, Liu Ling remained in the White Mountains to pursue solitary contemplation and inner clarity. As the years and decades went on, though, she became increasingly aware of disturbances in the White Mountains and further south, into the lowlands around the Silver City. The dead rested unquietly, and unclean things walked the forests. She slowly realised that some dark force was rising in the nation, and that it seemed to be heading for the Silver Court. She viewed the coming of Sikou Jia to the White Mountains as an omen that the time had finally come to do something about this dark secret she’s been tracking, and went to join him. Without necessarily telling him any of that, because she’s been alone for years and was never a naturally confiding sort of person.

Hu Yin, Tiefling Criminal Ancients Paladin, 34 years old. Outcast from a young age because his black eyes and ox horns announced him as a demon, an embittered Yin turned to banditry to survive. Waylaying travellers on the road and frightening them with his strength and demonic features, he made quite a name for himself as the Ox Demon of the White Mountains. This all changed when he met (attempted to rob) a mountain priestess and forest giant named Guan Qiu, who promptly subdued him. Expecting to die, and oddly cheerful about it, he asked her for a last meal. Amused, she obliged, and over some years the pair grew very close. She taught him about the Old Faith of her people, and gradually Yin felt a change of heart. He regretted his career as a bandit, and wanted to do something good with his life, so he became a warrior of the bright places to honour his friend. Eventually, he heard of the White Mountain Alliance and Sikou Jia, and became curious about the blessed man, in light of his own heritage. He decided he wanted to meet him. Guan Qiu was wary and thought him an idiot, since a demon seeking out a blessed man would only end in tears. Nonetheless, she accompanied him, and while the introductions didn’t go well, everyone survived to get to know each other, despite fears that he’d come to try to kill and/or eat Jia.

Guan Qiu, Firbolg Sage Mountain Druid, 313 years old. Nearly two centuries ago, Guan Qiu’s clan was destroyed by a great beast, leaving her to make her way alone among the high peaks of the White Mountains. For a time, she fell into a great despair, but patience and stubbornness won out, as well as the solace of the Old Faith. She decided after a time to devote herself to study, of magic and nature and her mountains. She travelled the length and breadth of them in this cause, consulting with other priests of the old faith, and spending time cloistered in the great monasteries of the Mountains, such as Tenshi Peak. She made a reputation for herself as a respected sage, the Wise Giantess of the Mountains. Over time, she also grew concerned over the darkening of the Mountains, though she focused mostly on healing what symptoms she could as they came up. Eventually, she met Hu Yin, and became very fond of him as a friend and almost son. When he decided to join the White Mountain Alliance to further make up for his past misdeeds, she joined them alongside him, partly because it was a good cause and she wanted to help, but also partly so as not to lose a loved one again.

I’m guessing campaign-wise that Jia’s birth was in fact an omen about the great evil building in the land, and that said great evil is probably undead/undying, and that Jia came extremely close to being a very short-lived plaything for it if he hadn’t gotten out of the Silver City when he did.

Other thoughts:

Tieflings and Aasimar play amusingly together lore-wise, especially given a wuxia-ish demon/holy man element

Tiefling virtue names and Chinese courtesy names gloss interestingly, but I don’t have near enough confidence with them to come up with a good courtesy name for Hu Yin to have taken

I like ancient mountain ladies, apparently

Despite none of them being directly built for it, the party was doing quite well on stealth with high dex until Hu Yin happened. The criminal stealth proficiency just barely lifted him out of negative numbers. He’s, ah. He’s not a stealthy boy. I feel like this is at least half the reason Guan Qiu despairs of him (she’s actually nearly as bad, except magic)

I had fun giving Jia all the face skills, followed by Hu Yin, realising that if they ever actually have to go to the Silver City the only diplomatic characters the group has are a demonic ex-bandit and an escaped slave/courtier who is really memorable and likely being actively sought by the big bad

The ladies, meanwhile, are all significantly more likely to just shoot the Emperor in the face. Also the big bad, if they happen to be in the same vicinity. Or, at least, Lan and Ling would. Qiu is possibly gentle enough to want actual provocation first

I decided to give them all names in the same language because three are human based/raised, one is probably giving the local Common translation of her name, and the last doesn’t generally bother with names unless other people want one and she’s mostly been around humans and/or elves

I’m cherry-picking name meaning lists for the names, by the way. Apologies if they’re not quite right. Sikou is the surname I’m least confident of, because it’s apparently a fairly specific title in origin (Minister of Justice), but I read a translation somewhere that translated it as ‘Minister of Bandits’ and it tickled me too much to give up

Also, lockdown leaves you with entirely too much time on your hands, and oddly not a lot of motivation to do much with it

#dnd #d&d #wuxia #character concept #aasimar #tiefling #firbolg #wood elf #human #i have too much time and not enough brain power

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gadgetgirl71 · 4 years

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Amazon First Reads September 2020

It’s that time yet again! For me and other Amazon Prime Members to take our pick of this months Amazon First Reads. So if your an Amazon Prime member don’t forget to get your free First Reads Book.

This months choices are:

Thriller

Every Missing Thing by Martyn Ford, Pages: 367, Publication Date: 1 October 2020

Synopsis: One family. Two missing children. A lifetime of secrets.

Ten-year-old Ethan Clarke’s disappearance gripped the nation. Just as his parents are starting to piece together a life ‘after Ethan’, their world is ripped apart once more when their daughter, Robin, disappears in almost identical circumstances. They’ve lost two children within a decade … and now doubts about their innocence are setting in.

Detective Sam Maguire’s obsession with the first case cost him his own family, but he has unfinished business with the Clarkes. He is convinced that discovering what happened to Ethan holds the key to finding Robin. But what if the Clarkes know more than they’re letting on?

With the world watching eagerly, the clock is ticking for Sam as he embarks on an investigation that forces him to confront his own demons. To uncover the truth, he must follow a trail of devastating deception—but the truth always comes at a cost …

Book Club Fiction

Millicent Glenn’s Last Wish by Tori Whitaker, Pages: 340, Publication Date: 1 October 2020

Synopsis: Three generations of women—and the love, loss, sacrifice, and secrets that can bind them forever or tear them apart.

Millicent Glenn is self-sufficient and contentedly alone in the Cincinnati suburbs. As she nears her ninety-first birthday, her daughter Jane, with whom she’s weathered a shaky relationship, suddenly moves back home. Then Millie’s granddaughter shares the thrilling surprise that she’s pregnant. But for Millie, the news stirs heart-breaking memories of a past she’s kept hidden for too long. Maybe it’s time she shared something, too. Millie’s last wish? For Jane to forgive her.

Sixty years ago Millie was living a dream. She had a husband she adored, a job of her own, a precious baby girl, and another child on the way. They were the perfect family. All it took was one irreversible moment to shatter everything, reshaping Millie’s life and the lives of generations to come.

As Millie’s old wounds are exposed, so are the secrets she’s kept for so long. Finally revealing them to her daughter might be the greatest risk a mother could take in the name of love.

Police Procedural

The Unspoken by Ian K Smith, Pages: 295, Publication Date: 1 October 2020

Synopsis: In this new series from #1 New York Times bestselling author Ian K. Smith, an ex-cop turned private investigator seeks justice on the vibrant, dangerous streets of Chicago.

Former Chicago detective Ashe Cayne is desperate for redemption. After refusing to participate in a police department cover-up involving the death of a young black man, Cayne is pushed out of the force. But he won’t sit quietly on the sidelines: he’s compelled to fight for justice as a private investigator…even if it means putting himself in jeopardy.

When a young woman, Tinsley Gerrigan, goes missing, her wealthy parents from the North Shore hire Cayne to find her. As Cayne looks into her life and past, he uncovers secrets Tinsley’s been hiding from her family. Cayne fears he may never find Tinsley alive.

His worries spike when Tinsley’s boyfriend is found dead—another black man murdered on the tough Chicago streets. Cayne must navigate his complicated relationships within the Chicago PD, leveraging his contacts and police skills to find the missing young woman, see justice done, and earn his redemption.

Contemporary Romance

Roommaids by Sariah Wilson, Pages: 301, Publication Date: 1 October 2020

Synopsis: From bestselling author Sariah Wilson comes a charming romance about living your life one dream at a time.

Madison Huntington is determined to live her dreams. That means getting out from under her family’s wealth and influence by saying no to the family business, her allowance, and her home. But on a teacher’s salary, the real world comes as a rude awakening—especially when she wakes up every morning on a colleague’s couch. To get a place of her own (without cockroaches, mould, or crime scene tape), Madison accepts a position as a roommaid. In exchange for free room and board, all she needs to do is keep her busy roommate’s penthouse clean and his dog company. So what if she’s never washed a dish in her life. She can figure this out, right?

Madison is pretty confident she can fake it well enough that Tyler Roth will never know the difference. The finance whiz is rich and privileged and navigates the same social circles as her parents—but to him she’s just a teacher in need of an apartment. He’s everything Madison has run from, but his kind hearted nature, stomach-fluttering smile, and unexpected insecurities only make her want to get closer. And Tyler is warming to the move.

Rewarding job. Perfect guy. Great future. With everything so right, what could go wrong? Madison is about to find out.

Literary Fiction

A Single Swallow by Zhang Ling, Pages: 299, Publication Date: 1 October 2020

Synopsis: The eagerly awaited English translation of award-winning author Zhang Ling’s epic and intimate novel about the devastation of war, forgiveness, redemption, and the enduring power of love.

On the day of the historic 1945 Jewel Voice Broadcast—in which Emperor Hirohito announced Japan’s surrender to the Allied forces, bringing an end to World War II—three men, flush with jubilation, made a pact. After their deaths, each year on the anniversary of the broadcast, their souls would return to the Chinese village of their younger days. It’s where they had fought—and survived—a war that shook the world and changed their own lives in unimaginable ways. Now, seventy years later, the pledge is being fulfilled by American missionary Pastor Billy, brash gunner’s mate Ian Ferguson, and local soldier Liu Zhaohu.

All that’s missing is Ah Yan—also known as Swallow—the girl each man loved, each in his own profound way.

As they unravel their personal stories of the war, and of the woman who touched them so deeply during that unforgiving time, the story of Ah Yan’s life begins to take shape, woven into view by their memories. A woman who had suffered unspeakable atrocities, and yet found the grace and dignity to survive, she’d been the one to bring them together. And it is her spark of humanity, still burning brightly, that gives these ghosts of the past the courage to look back on everything they endured and remember the woman they lost.

Supernatural Thriller

The Haunting of H G Wells by Robert Masello, Pages: 393, Publication Date: 1 October 2020

Synopsis: A plot against England that even the genius of H. G. Wells could not have imagined.

It’s 1914. The Great War grips the world—and from the Western Front a strange story emerges…a story of St. George and a brigade of angels descending from heaven to fight beside the beleaguered British troops. But can there be any truth to it?

H. G. Wells, the most celebrated writer of his day—author of The Time Machine, The War of the Worlds, The Invisible Man—is dispatched to find out. There, he finds an eerie wasteland inhabited by the living, the dead, and those forever stranded somewhere in between…a no-man’s-land whose unhappy souls trail him home to London, where a deadly plot, one that could turn the tide of war, is rapidly unfolding.

In league with his young love, the reporter and suffragette Rebecca West, Wells must do battle with diabolical forces—secret agents and depraved occultists—to save his sanity, his country, and ultimately the world.

Nonfiction

Welcome to The United States of Anxiety by Jen Lancaster, Pages: 288, Publication Date: 1 October 2020

Synopsis: New York Times bestselling author Jen Lancaster is here to help you chill the hell out.

When did USA become shorthand for the United States of Anxiety? From the moment Americans wake up, we’re bombarded with all-new terrifying news about crime, the environment, politics, and stroke-inducing foods we’ve been enjoying for years. We’re judged by social media’s faceless masses, pressured into maintaining a Pinterest-perfect home, and expected to base our self-worth on retweets, faves, likes, and followers. Our collective FOMO, and the disparity between the ideal and reality, is leading us to spend more and feel worse. No wonder we’re getting twitchy. Save for an Independence Day–style alien invasion, how do we begin to escape from the stressors that make up our days?

Jen Lancaster is here to take a hard look at our elevating anxieties, and with self-deprecating wit and level-headed wisdom, she charts a path out of the quagmire that keeps us frightened of the future and ashamed of our imperfectly perfect human lives. Take a deep breath, and her advice, and you just might get through a holiday dinner without wanting to disown your uncle.

Children’s Picture Book

The Monster on the Block by Sue Ganz-Schmitt, Illustrator: Luke Flowers, Pages: 32 Publication Date: 1 October 2020

Synopsis: Monster is excited to see what kind of creature will move into Vampire’s old house on the block. He even starts practicing his welcome growl for the new neighbour. But when the moving truck pulls up, it’s not a greedy goblin, an ogre, or a dastardly dragon that steps out. Instead, it’s something even more terrifying than Monster could have imagined! Monster quickly rallies the other neighbours to unite against the new guy on the block. But what if the new neighbour isn’t exactly as bad as Monster thinks? Join Monster as he confronts his fears in this charming and light-hearted look at what it means to accept others who are different from us.

*** Which book will you choose? I have no idea which book I’ll choose as there a couple of books that interest me this month. ***

#AmazonFirstReads, #Amazonkindle, #AmazonPrimeMembers, #BookClubFiction, #Books, #ChildrensPictureBook, #ContemporaryFiction, #Kindle, #KindleBooks, #LiteraryFiction, #NonFiction, #PoliceProcedural, #SupernatuarlThriller, #Thriller

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reylofanfictionanthology · 3 years

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TO FIND YOUR KISS - AUTHOR REVEALS!

Here are your authors for this year’s exchange!

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars by XarisEirene for abbytheatre08

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained by LittleLostStar for AlwaysEverlark

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart by strangeallure for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions by SpaceWaffleHouseTM for Andrina_Nightshade

- The Dyad by Lady_of_Haven for aneighthdomain

- The Delegation by Vivien for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains by shipperofdarkness for AnneAnna

Saudade (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains"

In those first few weeks, everything had been muddled in a haze as the Resistance tried to rebuild all that had been lost. Rey had buried herself in the work. It’s what she’d always done. Don’t think of your parents, don’t think of waiting, scavenge and repeat.

But it’s different.

Her parents hadn’t wanted her.

He had.

Her parents hadn’t loved her.

He had.

And in his wake, the wound had split Rey’s soul to the bone, like the scar she’d given him all those moons ago. It's a blessing. And a curse. And all she has left. It’s the love that remains.

- i don't want you like a best friend by irridesca for anopendoor

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness by crossingwinter for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) by thehobbem for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In by darlingreadsalot for Blueyedgurl

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras by Andrina_Nightshade for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul by Reykenobi68 for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands by literallynoonecares for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night by firelord65 for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance by darknessvisible for Crysania

- Awake by QueenOfCarrotFlowers for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it by politicalmamaduck for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale by Crysania for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- The Canvas of Your Skin by tearoomsaloon for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) by DarkMage13for DoorKeeper9

“W-What are you doing?” She would have been more irritated if she wasn’t shivering.

Kylo rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to let hypothermia kill you.”

“S-Stripping me is not going to kill me? That makes n-no sense.”

Rey needs a kyber crystal and Kylo is trying to prevent her from getting into more life-threatening situations. It's definitely not because he cares about her. Nope.

- Fleeing the Storm by Padawan_Writer for driverfever

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure by misszeldasayre for dustoftheancients

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability by MissCoppelia for Evangel10n

- Splatter by DoorKeeper9 for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror by AlwaysEverlark for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary by OccasionallyCreative for firelord65

- and they danced across the sky by chagrins for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer by Cat2000 for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable by maq_moon for HopeRebel

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh by okpianist for irridesca

- and they were roommates by myownlittleinfinity for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) by bittersnake for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- 3 Days in Vienna by anopendoor for Like_A_Dove

- If You Take Me flipflop_diva by literallynoonecares

Rey sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.

“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.

“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- Confidence and Desire by MBlair for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves by Lutrosis for LRRH17

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side by AnneAnna for Lutrosis

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life by czechia for maq_moon

- We’ve Met Before by PoliticalPadmé (magnetgirl) for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily) for midwinterspring

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party by Lorelei713 for MissCoppelia

- The Banished Heart by stellardarlings for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

- The Smuggler's Bride by tmwillson3 for MyJediLife

- Annabel Lee by driverfever for myownlittleinfinity

- with my body i thee worship by yodalorian for niennathegrey

- the losing game by KoreRosemarinus for no_big_deal

- standing right in front of you by reylotrash711 for notkellymarie

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling by Priestly for OccasionallyCreative

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same by writergenie for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- You're My Dark Princess by Evangel10n for persimonne

Five years after the defeat of the First Order, Rey is no longer the woman we knew. Having no war to fight, Rey turns to contract killing. Not quite a bounty hunter, no, an assassin is not that honorable. She no longer relies on the Light side to guide her or the Dark, not claiming either side. She is a completely different person, lost, angry, numb. One day she is hired to kill a man she knew intimately, but he doesn’t remember her. What is she going to do? She has two choices here, kill the past or save a man she thought was dead.

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war by Juulna and Annaelle for politicalpadmé

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix by cuddlesome for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You by Ceallaigh for Prix

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters by persimonne for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) by midwinterspring for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer by Abbytheatre08 for Reykenobi68

- The Long Way Home by VR_Trakowski for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings. It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight by Takekurabehime for shariling

- Fallen by Reykenobi68 for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me by HopeRebel for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You by the-reylo-void (Anysia) for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

- Lips Raw With Love by MyJediLife for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes by no_big_deal for Takekurabehime

- Glitter & Gold by aionimica for TearoomSaloon

- To kiss like lovers do by FrenchMartiniPlease for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

- Snow Turns To Rain by aneighthdomain for thehobbem

“I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head. “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work. I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

“But?”

“But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance by expendable for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods by FangirlintheForest for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) by theresonatinglight for Thursdaygirl

- show me the stars. by shariling for tmwillson3

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home by Blueyedgurl for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon by dustoftheancients for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) by niennathegrey for writergenie

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) by LRRH17 for XarisEirene

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern by midwinterspring for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #reylo fanfic #reylo fic #to find your kiss #master post #mod post #photo edit

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mgrgfan · 4 years

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Past of the future, future of the past...

Chapter 5. Soarin' over the space...

A small speck plunged through the atmosphere of Earth, burning pretty bright yellow. Dozens of radars and telescopes were tracking it. It's really ironic, but the Sky High Pokemon, who was supposed to rule the skies and above, was now helplessly falling to the ground, mercilessly dragged by gravity and burned by atmospheric ram pressure. All Draconids, who were now watching TV, could not believe their eyes. The Dragon Lord, the great Rayquaza… got destroyed by the titanic machine, constructed by sorisians. The machine, which was crammed full of nuclear weapons, capable of obliterating cities, should they start flying to Earth. In fact, the same thing could be said for most of other TV watchers… bar sorisians. For them, what little re-entry of the serpentine dragon they've seen, marked a beginning of a new age - an age of open skies, when people can turn their gazes towards the stars and not be afraid, that someone territorial and feral will stop their journey before it even starts. While the rest of the world was either shocked, horrified or furious, Soris was celebrating the first victory of their first space warship. Now the other regions will know, that the Empire is not something to be tampered with! ---- On the Grey Sea, a decent fleet, consisting exclusively of nuclear-powered ships, was underway, towing a giant floating unusually-looking rocket in the middle of the formation. Several ships with "buzzers" - arcanotechnological devices, designed to drive off the Pokemon before the launch - and depth charge launchers, a tanker with kerosene, an electrolyzer-equipped ship for creating liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen on site, four deep space communication ships, several frigates with anti-air weapons and a single launch control ship - all of those machines were preparing for something great. A personal tiltjet of the Emperor, which was speeding to the landing pad of the launch control ship, only confirmed this further. A long distance from it, a research plane from Kanto was flying, trying to get a decent picture of what the heck was even happening. If the reports of astronauts from a nearly year ago were to be believed, imperials claimed, that their Moon mission was launched by the similar rocket 3000 years ago… but how? And what was their reason for this launch, not even ten hours after the launch of their space warship? And what was the payload of this giant rocket? ---- Young Draconid could not believe, what she was seeing. She once saw the Lord Rayquaza with her own eyes - a long, majestic serpentine dragon of incredible power. What lied before her… wasn't like it. This one was thoroughly burned, up to the point when the originally green skin wasn't recognizable, some of the mug-fins were completely destroyed, eye sockets were empty and scorched, the horny ridges of mouth were chipped, one of the fangs was missing… The strange crackling sound interrupted her thoughts and, less than a second after, someone rudely yanked her away and started to mercilessly drag her. "What the Reverse World?" "The less we spend time near the corpse, the better," the assailant replied, revealing himself to be Damien. "The Geiger counter is going crazy near it, as you've heard. When we are back at the Meteor Village, we'll need to throw away our clothes, shave all the hair on our bodies and wash ourselves thoroughly, lest the radiation poisoning get much worse." "Radiation poisoning?" "Valencia works on the nuclear power project, she knows a lot about it and lended me a Geiger counter. Let's go faster, since the sooner we decontaminate ourselves - the better." ---- "Fueling of the Water Dragon is now finished. The rocket is ready to be set into launch position," said one of the launch control officers. "Fill the cap's ballast tanks and set the rocket into launch position," gave an order the Emperor, who was just delighted to see one of his creations being ready to go flight pretty soon. "Executing, Your Majesty." Giant rocket started to slowly sink and, after several hours, stabilized itself half-submerged and vertical. "The rocket is now in the launch position, Your Majesty. Buzzers working good, no Bedolangs or other Pokemon for several kilometers, all systems good." "Excellent. Resume the launch countdown." "Aye-aye." ---- "Much better," said Damien, who has just finished thoroughly washing himself with soap, having already shaved everywhere he was able to. To his left, Helian sat, also washed and completely shaved. "Now can you tell me, what is the meaning of all this?" asked them Renza, who was clearly not happy. "We've seen Rayquaza's corpse. It's so radioactive, the Geiger counter near it goes crazy and, apparently, the corpse itself glows in the dark slightly." "... Wait, what did you just say? Rayquaza's… corpse?" "Yes. As much as it's shocking to us all, apparently, sorisian nuclear weaponry was able to kill the Dragon Lord. And no, you better don't go there, since, as I've already said, it's radioactive as heck. I think we've got a small radiation poisoning by merely standing near it. Good thing wind was blowing away from us too..." "Damien, Renza, I don't feel so we…" started Helian, then fell to her knees and started vomiting. "Uh-oh," murmured the shaved Draconid, carefully helping her to get back up. "Well, it's been six hours already, so, it shouldn't be so bad. Does your head ache?" "Barely, but… yes," Helian said, trying to not throw up again. "Well, Renza, now you see, what the radiation poisoning is. Bury the bag with our old clothing somewhere and get us a new ones. Oh, and also - call the Elder!" "Will do," replied the scared Renza, sprinting out of the building. "Don't worry, Helian, the worst part will be over in less than a 24 hours and all of it will be over in a month or so," murmured Damien, trying to calm the girl down. ---- "... Ignition sequence start, four, three, ballast detached, all engines are running! Liftoff! We have a liftoff! Fifty-four minutes past the hour, liftoff on the Water Dragon!" As those words were being said, the rocket, which was calmly floating in the sea, shuddered, the water around it started to rise from the giant bubble of exhaust gases, but the rocket was already lifting off and setting the course for beyond the sky, propelled by titanic aerospike engine in the aft and four smaller assist engines on top of the first stage. "Never gets old," the Emperor said with a nearly childish glee on his face. "Ah, I remember, how hard it was to fit an aerospike in there… At least it works and is pretty cheap to manufacture and use, as well as recoverable." "The combustion instability for the big bell was even bigger of a bastard to get rid of, though," noted one of the engineers, who worked on this project. "No wonder we've ditched it after a single launch and placed an aerospike engine instead." "Yeah. Arcanics for stabilizing combustion in engine of this grade aren't cheap and aerospike is just better overall." "Not for non-atmo conditions, though." "Of course." ---- "Zemlino has just reported launch of the Water Dragon, crammed full with cargo," happily reported the comm operator. "A hundred-something of drive nukes, a few tons of liquid hydrogen, two retro-missiles and, what's really important - repair supplies!" "Cool!" whistled the engineer. "It's pretty much a miracle, that we not just survived yesterday, not just achieved victory, but also made it with no serious damage to the ship." "Yeah, but this very un-lucky Hyper Beam, which passed right between the second-stage shock absorbers, was… unnerving," the pilot replied. "Even though they are armored, if the shock absorbers got damaged and stuck - we would've been left with no primary propulsion and, as you can guess, majorly screwed." "To speak truthfully, you are the real hero of yesterday battle," noted the weapons operator. "I don't know, how you've managed to do it, but to take the most powerful attacks on the well-armored pusher plate or, at least, make them just scratch the hull's surface - it's more than something. If not for it, our ship would've got a few "unplanned ventilation ducts" - maybe, even through the drive bomb magazines or reactor!" "Me? How about you? After all, it's you, who was constantly scoring the hits on this dragon and not letting it get a metaphorical breath!" retorted the pilot. "Gah, I was just deciding targeting and launch priorities for the offensive weapons, while the fire control system did all the aiming and shooting!" "Comrades, let me just say, that we were all heroes yesterday," interrupted them the captain, who was trying to prevent discussion from getting out of hand. "We all did our part in taking out the tyrant of the sky, so, no need to get hesitant about your achievements. By the way, it's time for us to go rest and allow second shift to take the stations." "Aye-aye, comrade captain!" ---- Deep under the Lumiose City, inside the War Room, quite a few people sat. "So, basically, now we have a giant militarized spaceship above our heads," one of them said. If his badge was to be believed, he was the current Secretary-General of the Pokemon Nation. "As scientists from Unova told me, it uses nuclear explosions for propulsion and for weaponry." "Nuclear explosions? Isn't that just a theory?" said a woman from Kanto. "As you can see, not anymore," unovan president replied, slightly irritated from having to state something so obvious. "By the way, Mr. President, I must note again, that cancelling the Castelia Project was a very, very big mistake," one of the nuclear scientists decided to put a word. "Castelia Project? You mean, weaponizing Forces of Nature and using them against us during this war was not enough?!" the Hoenn delegate responded with a great fury in voice. "Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room!" the Secretary-General decided to take a measure before the actual battle could've ensued. Even if no one had a Pokemon here, all-out physical pummeling was still not entirely out of the question. "Anyway, I will stand on that cancelling the Castelia Project was a great mistake," scientist resumed his talk. "Since, apparently, Soris Empire had no moral or other restrictions in performing their own version of it, which resulted in what we see today - they've got nuclear explosives of many kinds, while we've never ever performed a single test, making the nuclear explosions pure theory until the recent events! We have absolutely nothing, that can even scratch their ship! And it is loaded to brim with nukes, probably, ready to turn entire regions into scorched wastelands! Even the Rayquaza itself fell before this horrible weaponry - by the way, we still have no idea, where should we dispose of this corpse, which is so radioactive, it glows in the dark..." "Loaded to brim? Are you so sure about that? It's entirely possible, that they've exhausted their armament during the fight - there were quite a lot of explosions!" "Not anymore," said a director of the Mossdeep Space Center, getting off the phone. "Just a few minutes ago, a superheavy rocket was launched from the sea. Of course, it's not the same kind of monster, but still something. For what it looks like, it's a cargo mission, designed to resupply their space warship. I'm sure, that there'll be a lot of nukes to replenish the storages." "Arceus damn it," representative from Sinnoh mumbled, grabbing his head. "Can you contact the rulers of the Soris Empire?" "The Emperor is now onboard one of the ships in the fleet, which launched this superheavy rocket. The Empress… we are trying to contact her, but she is not available right now and representative refuses to give any comments." "And those damn journalists are on it again…" stated grimly the Kanto's representative, looking at the TV screen. ---- "Workpods deployed, set to meet the cargo carrier," reported Pyotr Petrov, who was working as an engineer in the second shift. On the outside, one of the lander bays opened, allowing two small, mostly-cylindrical crafts with several manipulators and chemfuel engines, to detach from the space warship and enter the interception course to meet the "Hauler" superheavy cargo spacecraft and ensure, that it safely arrives to the "Red Explorer" for resupplying the massive nuclear pulse-propelled vessel with drive bombs, hydrogen, spare parts and like this. Right now, the pods were working in the automated mode, even though each of them was able to house a single human operator, should the situation require it. As Pyotr looked on the flying pods through the secondary cameras, he thought, that, probably, Pokemon Nation would have used a Reuniclus or something for operation like this. He still could not understand, how did it come, that they were in so close with Pokemon. Of course, cosmonauts of the Nation were using some kind of spherical containment devices, as the crew of the Space Lab 2 reported, and scientists of Soris Empire were going just crazy about them, but… how did it come, that they've relied on Pokemon so much? ---- "Zhorik, how long do we have to wait?" asked the captain in slightly irritated voice. Right now, the entirety of this shift of bridge crew gathered in the mess hall in the outermost level of the habitation centrifuge, which was pretty cozy, with a big display on the wall, several stands with books and magazines (mostly the "Human Will Conquer Space Soon!" and "Human Conquers Space!", because someone in the ground crew had a strange sense of humor), a few tables with comfortable chairs and a galley with mini-bar. "Not much… Here!" happily exclaimed the engineer, who has just managed to reconfigure one of the backup comm antennas into a TV signal receiver and jury-rig a decryption program for the broadcast standards of Pokemon Nation, before running the decrypted signal to the display. "Let us try to tune to one of their channels…" A few minutes of fiddling with settings later, they were greeted by some kind of a news broadcast about their recent battle with, how the hoennians called it, Sky High Pokemon. None of the cosmonauts knew the general language of Pokemon Nation well (though no one from Soris did as for now, even the linguists - the language barrier is not an easy thing to overcome!), but they could get a basic outline. "Taras Grigorievich, do they really think, that we sleep and dream of nuking their cities to ashes?" asked the perplexed sensors operator. "Apparently, yes. Just like we are afraid of them using their Pokemon - especially Ghosts and Psychics - to wage a war on us. Teleport raids, guerrilla warfare and so on… In short, this'll be really bloody, should it happen. I don't know, if the people of Soris would be able to win." "And they are afraid of us razing their cities from orbit, where nothing of their origin can reach our ship without getting intercepted. Makes sense… and parity - if they try to attack Soris, we blow their homes up with nukes and vice versa." ---- "Drive bomb magazines reloaded, RCS tanks full of propellant, retro-missiles loaded into silos, damaged armor plates replaced. I must say, our ship is now almost as good as new", reported engineer Petrov, looking at screens. He was very happy, that there were no heavily-damaged parts, which would've required more repair than removing a damaged armored plate and slapping a fresh one in place, as well as the fact, that most plates were designed to be easily interchangeable. After the trainwreck of a repairability the Project 21A Space Ferry was, no one wanted to go through the same nightmare, except for Pokemon Nation with their Space Shuttle (though even this was debatable). "Wonderful," replied the current commander of the ship. "Incoming transmission!" said the comm officer. "Patching through." Author's notes: "Human Will Conquer Space Soon!" (10.05.400 AFE - 18.05.425 AFE) and "Human Conquers Space!" (18.06.425 AFE and ongoing) - monthly magazines in Soris Empire, which are mostly centered around the Imperial Space Program, but also host some comics and stories. Even though, originally, they weren't selling well, they've managed to rack up a really decent fanbase over time, especially after the Sergiy Vyugenko started to write his stories for those journals. AFE - After Foundation of the Empire. Water Dragon rocket is based on the real Sea Dragon, except with aerospike engine in the first stage (second version of Water Dragon). Bedolang - the Pack Hunting Pokemon, very dangerous aquatic predator, native to Soris. During the Shift, for the reasons yet unknown, most of the Bedolang population got time-shifted as well, while the rest slowly died out from inbreeding. At the current day, the shifted population is sufficient to safely breed and starts to become a sea hazard to rival Gyarados again (in fact, before the Shift, packs of Bedolangs were known to hunt and kill Gyarados without much problems). However, due to the actions of Soris Empire, they prefer to avoid the ships.

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transmechanicus · 5 years

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Making 40k grimdark in writing

I’m spitting this into the void while my mind has a somewhat organized idea of what i want to say.

I don’t think 40k is grimdark, not in the bulk of its fiction which is where that descriptor should stand out the most. 40k and specifically the Imperium being grimdark is supposed to be because there is no other option to ensure humanity’s survival, not just because other options are inconvenient.

Imperial populations are supposed to be widely illiterate, strictly because the danger of reading Chaotic material outweighs the benefits. The Imperium hates aliens not because they’re Racist Against Space Elves but because 3000 other lesser species are of a hostility akin to a Xenomorph and cannot be reasoned with. The Imperial Creed is supposed to be mandatory, not solely out of reverence for the Emperor, but for its capability as a tool for oppression of Imperial citizens and consumption of their free time. The entirety of the Imperium’s purpose is to maintain a total war/production environment at all times and on as many fronts as possible, and the process of doing so is why it is the “cruelest and bloodiest” regime imaginable. That said, just about every Black Library novel i’ve read fails at depicting this. Black Library novels, outside of isolated passages, do not convey to me the scale of oppression and merciless authority that an appropriately grimdark Imperium would have. This is not to say they are not good books in their own right, but strictly rated on their ability to consistently convey the brutality of the Imperium, they fall short.

A Planetary governor should abandon his populace to gang wars, not because he’s a self indulgent prick, but because the expenditure of military resource is not justified by the gains. Adeptus Mechanicus wonder machines should be abandoned in hangers because no local tech priest has the spiritual clout or proper incense to use them, despite the fact that only a single button need be pushed. Protocol and bureaucracy should be followed to the letter even when it royally fucks the Imperium because those same protocols were put in place 1000 years ago to guard against 1 of billions of tampering methods. The Imperium, as stated in the opening text of Every BL Novel, should be sustained through blood and brutality to accomplish the most basic tasks because every other way leads to even greater suffering.

I want to see ship crews that have to be in constant mass prayer just to keep the Gellar Field on/temptations of Chaos at bay. I want to see Tech priests devoid of any hacking capability or actual understanding of half of how their machines work. You know how a tank internal combustion engine works? Great. You have 0 idea how the battle cannon works and are terrified that if you don’t do every ritual step that it will explode for no reason. I want to see Administratum clerks who spend their lives making notations and addendums to irrelevant paperwork from 2000 years prior. I want to see the little people of the Imperium, the ones actually experiencing the grim darkness, the ones so easily forgotten in BL’s focus on generals, space marines, and alien warlords. I want to see ignorance, superstition, fear, and all the strange wonder that accompanies looking into a universe so fundamentally different from our own. #MakeTheImperiumGrimdarkAgain

#notice im specifying the imperium #because ONLY the imperium is grimdark #all other factions are just doing their own thing and have no internal reason to be grimdark #my stuff #wh40k #forgive the hashtag it just worked well #warhammer 40k #imperium of man

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writerofmanyfandoms · 5 years

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I Will Not Fall

Summary: Requested!Anakin SkywalkerxReader! Slight AU. You are a survivor. It’s what you do. You survived Anakin Skywalker’s attack on the younglings when you were but a child. And then you survived an avalanche by cutting your right arm off. You go around speaking to others, hoping to inspire them with tales of your courage, and the root of it. Never in a million years would you think of running into the man who started it all. (AU as in Anakin never had to be a machine)

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 1050

Warnings: A little sad?

Author’s Note: This is sort of the same storyline from my other fic Survivor. Though it is a bit different! This is a short story that I enjoyed writing! I will link that one so you can check that out as well! I am slowly but surely going through all of my requests! Keep sending them in though, I surely love them and I love writing! About to hit 200 followers, so yay! c: {Survivor} Kind of wanted to make this into a series, let me know if you would be interested! Also, two stories in one day, I am on a roll!

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or the characters. Also, I do not own this GIF, found on GIPHY

“Thank you, everyone, for listening to my story! Hopefully, it will inspire you in whatever ways it can. Just know that everyone has a root to their courage, and knowing that root will help us to stand against anything.” You announced, smiling as the crowd cheered you on.

Ever since you were younger, you always had trial after trial. Each time you took it with grace, and always managed to come out on top. Your close friends those of you as an inspiration, especially after surviving what should have been a fatal blow. You didn’t see it as a big deal, but they had talked you into going around and speaking. Pretty soon it became a big deal, and it was overwhelming sometimes. You couldn’t believe your story was helping anyone, and it made you so happy to think someone could accomplish something due to your words.

“Miss Y/L/N, there is a visitor outside requesting to come in, should we send him in?” Your assistant asked, and you nodded your head.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” You said, turning to your mirror.

You knew it may be unwise to have it known you were a Jedi, after all, the Empire was trying to kill them all. But you did not care. You wanted to inspire the rebellion, and do what was needed to be done to ensure victory.

“Y/N. It’s been a while.” The cold voice spoke, as soon as the door was shut.

“Master Skywalker?” You gasped, confused, as you spun around to face him.

There he was, clear as day, right in front of you. He looked a bit older from your last encounter, and he seemed so tense as he removed the robe from covering his face.

“I go by Lord Vader now, I work for the Emperor.” He said, though a bit awkwardly as he leaned against the wall.

“I suppose you have come to kill me then?” You asked, raising your eyebrow, but you were shocked as he shook his head.

“Not really. I had begun to hear whisperings of your stories, people being inspired by you. I heard of what happened, and I figured I needed to hear it from you. I’ll be honest. I did come to kill you. But hearing your story, about how you hid in fear when you were only a kid, looking back now, I realize that I was being blindly led.” He said, looking down as you looked up at him.

“Well, it isn’t always easy. Admitting to the wrongdoings of our past. It takes time. I found forgiveness is essential for healing. I was only a kid when you took everything away from me. Though because of you is why I am as strong as I am today. I forgive you for the past, but I thank you for making me the Jedi that I am.” You explained, the two of you locking eyes.

Things were silent for a bit, the two of you both looking down at the ground now. Maybe things could have been totally different if Anakin didn’t fall to the dark side. Then again, your life wouldn’t be what it was now. In some weird way, your life was where it was now thanks to the man in front of you.

Your entire life you had dreamed of what you would do to Anakin if fate allowed you to see him again. You wanted to blame him for everything, to strike him down. The years made you forgiving, but seeing him in person made you realize that he was but a pawn in the situation. The emperor saw Anakin’s weaknesses and exploited them. Yet the Jedi Council did no better by Anakin.

“I actually was thinking, you would be perfect for a job.” Anakin began, looking at you as he moved in closer. “I normally have the most watchful eye on me. I can’t even sneeze without Palpatine being right there. It really is surprising that I snuck out here, but hearing your story made me realize something. We could take him down, and get rid of the Empire.”

Hearing this only made you shake your head. “Excuse me? You think I could take Paplatine down? Why? So you can be the one in control?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, it isn’t like that. A long time ago he promised me many things to get me to side with him. He told me I could save my loved ones, and grow more powerful. Now, I did become powerful. But I wasn’t able to save the one woman I loved more than anything. She died because of me, and I have been living with that forever. It’s been one lie after another, and even I know I have just been used this entire time. I will never be the man I once was, but I don’t want to be the man that Palpatine wants me to be.” He told you, as you couldn’t help but stare into his eyes. Maybe he was telling the truth? Maybe he really was tired of the Empire.

“Alright, I’m down. What’s the next step?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Next step? Is getting you trained. There is no way you could take him on like this. You need training to work with a mechanical limb better, trust me. It’s weird at first.” Anakin said, causing you to stare at him in disbelief. “What? You may be good with a lightsaber and may be okay with the force. But you aren’t a master. I can tell. You need more practice.” He told you, and you swore you could have seen a smirk on his face. “I don’t have too much time to myself, but I can train you. Here is my contact information, should you ever want my training, you will know how to find me.” He said, stepping away as you processed all of this information.

Sure, he was honest. Your training ended when you were a kid, and although you were skillful, you really weren’t amazing. Maybe you would take him up on his training offer. After all, Anakin was talented, there was no denying that. You knew one thing for certain, no matter what you did, you would not fall.

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