#would also like to hear echoes about what's going on in the Greater Community

[kalu-luwa]

ever in your favor pt. 5

a.k.a a continuation of this series, inspiration from @tunabesimpin‘s hunger games event, in the style of a flashback (day 4 basically gives neph a hatchet and insomnia, nothing too major)

special mention goes to sasha (@simpingseafood’s oc)

i’m very sorry if i got their characters wrong or did them too dirty! please tell me so i can fix it ;;

also, please tell me if you don’t want to get tagged!

tw/cw: death (implied at the beginning), bullying, they basically take a bash at neph and everything about them, OOC for OCs and canon (sorry ;;), swearing, i’ll add more as i go along

can you tell i copied most of the reaping scene dialogue from the movie?

(under the cut for dash length)

They turned away in time to hurl whatever they had eaten prior. All of it, until they were coughing up blood and crying their eyes red. This was the third time now, and this one they couldn’t forget.

They didn’t mean to, they promised, repenting to someone who could never hear them.

-

"You've been what?" Semyon's voice thundered across the hall, spooking the everliving shit out of Neph.

"I've been selected as tribute," they replied, wringing their hands nervously. "I- I don't even know how."

The trip to the marketplace was certainly eventful. Larger crowds meant more difficulty in traversing the narrow streets, but also greater chances of being pickpocketed. Throw in total blindness, and you would have a recipe for disaster. The most unusual thing, however, was not the sudden increase in foot traffic, nor the lack of shopkeepers attending to their stalls, but the odd silence that hung in the aromatic air.

"...for the honour of representing District 4 in the annual Hunger Games," a woman spoke, her voice echoing out into the unmoving crowds. "Let us begin."

Murmurs and whispers filled the space between as the people wavered and worried. Mothers hoped their babies wouldn't be chosen, mouthing silent prayers to whatever god could hear them. Fathers held their children close, as if keeping them in their arms would deter the guards from taking them away. The little ones, who were too young and innocent, kept quiet, fisting their parent's clothes and hiding behind their legs. The older ones, stubborn and brash as they were, puffed out their chests, a display of foolish courage and bravado. The career tributes were braver still, whooping and whistling. There was no one better than them in that regard; they were the cream of the crop in all of District 4.

Yet the names she called out were not any of them.

"Our first tribute…" a pause. The crinkling of paper. The faint feedback of the microphone and speakers. "Nephtali Rivke."

A small uproar from the front, the career tributes braying viciously. "Them? The poor thing? They're representing District 4?"

"Blind as a bat, that one. You're making a big mistake!"

"One of us would be better. Look at them! So sickly and weak, they wouldn't last a day out there!"

"Such a shame, this year's Hunger Game won't be our victory if they're going."

Yet none of them volunteered to take their place. This was… odd. Shouldn't they be willing to volunteer? This was an honor for them, so why…?

The masses parted, cleft in two to let Nephtali walk up the stage. Their feet, however, refused to budge. Them? As tribute? They weren't even registered on the census, even if they were well-known in the community. The only way this would've happen is if someone had given their name to the Capitol representatives. It wasn't until a cold metal hand grabbed their arm, pulling them forward, did Nephtali move. The guards had no decorum, showing them clumsily next to the Capitol woman.

"A first for District 4, sending in one of their lower castes," a mocking lilt in her voice, all too happy to see them suffer, "It would add to the diversity. And they will be our first blind victor to ever win the Hunger Games… that is, if they last that long."

"Hah, as if," one of the career tributes snorted, "Nephtali will never make it to the Feast like that."

If Neph could step down from the stage and break that person's kneecaps, they would.

"Moving on," the woman turned away, fishing out another piece of paper, "Our next tribute is… Sasha German."

A few more rumbles from the assembly, but none of the career tributes made a sound. Was this person one of their own?

"Oh great, here comes one of the middle-class." Apparently not.

"How lovely!" The woman cheered, tone too saccharine to be considered joyful, "An older tribute! A beacon of hope for the rest of us past our prime."

There was a wave of laughter from the people, some of them exclaiming that this 'Sasha' was still in his early twenties. The man in question just laughed nervously, almost tripping on the second step.

"Here we are. Our tributes from District 4," the Capitol representative exclaimed, a hand on both of their shoulders. "Well, come on you two. Shake hands now."

It might’ve been from the shock, or the hunger pangs they've had since yesterday, but Neph wasn't all that fazed by being chosen as tribute. Idly, they studied their fellow tribute, feeling his rough hand in theirs.

Sasha, they mused, a wonderful name. Defender of mankind.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

-

"What the fuck, Nephtali?!"

"Semyon, I didn't know either! Don't blame it on me!!"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" The older one groaned, pacing the room frantically, "I would've volunteered!"

"And risk you losing your life? Are you insane?"

"And you aren't? Marnya and the others are after me, what are you going to tell them?"

"God, I don't know…" Neph whined, dropping their head onto the table. "I didn't expect a market trip to end up like this…"

"I was asleep, you should've woken me up," Semyon sat down in front of them, slender fingers running through their hair. "We could've gotten you out of this."

"How?" They tilted their head upwards, tears in their eyes, "We can't bribe them… even if we could, we don't have enough money."

"I could've volunteered in your place."

"That's the same thing as me going, Sem. Elias will cry if you leave."

Semyon sighed, pressing his forehead against Neph's. "I don't know what else you want me to say, sunshine."

"I'm scared, Sem. I don't want to die, not yet."

"Then don't," He concluded with an air of finality, holding them closer, "Don't die. Come back home to us. To me."

"How? I don't know how to."

"Don't rely on other people. They'll only disappoint you. You're not here to make friends. Vulnerability is a weakness, and no one will help you," his grip tightened on their hair, almost growling in their ear, "You're on your own there, Neph. Be careful."

"Aren't the others human too? What if- what if they wanted to help?"

"When it comes down to survival, mi ocelle, they will always prioritize themselves over you."

"But-"

"All is fair in love and war, Nephtali. This is a fight to the death, nothing is fair."

-

"Marnie, where is Nephi going?” Little Elias asked, swinging his legs idly as he sat on Nephtali’s lap. The youngest out of all their siblings, and the only other one who wanted to see them before they left.

“They’re…” Marnya stopped, stifling a sob. “They’re just going to do something important. They won’t be back for… well, they’ll be there for a long time, Eli.”

They always hated it when their sister cried.

“What’re you gonna do?” Elias’ attention turned to their eldest sibling. “Are you gonna bring something back?”

So innocent. They wished he would never lose that, or grow up the same way they did. “I’m gonna play a very dumb game, my heart. If I win, you can eat all the cookies you want, hm?”

He gasped, giggling lightly. “As many cookies as I want?”

“You can have them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” they smiled, patting his head softly, “You might even get sick of it.”

“No, never!” They all shared a laugh at this, the mood lightening for a brief moment. Elias snuggled further into their hug, humming contentedly. “Come home safe, please?”

“I will. I promise.”

-

“You’re not coming home, are you?” Marnya asked, leaning against her sibling one last time.

Nephtali grimaced, closing their eyes. This had to be a dream. It had to be. No one was this unlucky to be chosen, and then forced to lie to their youngest brother. “I don’t know.”

“Did Semyon talk to you earlier?”

“Yeah, he did. I asked him to take care of you guys while I was away.”

“He won’t be the same as you, y’know.” Marnya chuckled, a sad and pitiful sound. Their hands clasped together, tight and firm.

“It’s only temporary.”

“I don’t think you mean that.”

“I’ll try my best to come home to you all. Sem told me how.”

“He’s not the best person to take advice from.”

“Better than nothing.”

“What about that Sasha guy?”

“Middle-class, not a career tribute. He might actually have a better shot than me.”

“Nephtali,” she let go of their hand, cupping their face instead, “I don’t ever want to see him come back here.”

The fisher scrunched their face up, mouth set in a playful snarl. “Marnie, that’s so rude of you. He has a family of his own as well. Don’t they want their son and/or brother to come home too?”

“Can’t I be selfish for once?” She pinched their cheeks, stretching them like a stress ball. “Only one of you can come home, and I desperately hope it’s you.”

“I wish we could both go home.”

“I know, but this is real life. We can’t always get our way.”

A silence enveloped the two, stuck in their own world together. Just being together made Neph so extremely happy, relishing in this final moment with their younger sister. They didn’t know when this would happen next. It probably won’t even happen again.

“It’s time.” A guard walked into the room, nodding at Marnya and Neph.

“Please, can’t we have one more minute?” She asked, turning her focus to the intruder.

“I’m sorry, we have to follow protocol.” At least she was being nice about it, guards are usually… not the best of people.

Marnya sighed, getting onto her knees. “Alright, Neph. This is really it now.”

“Hm.”

“Come home to us, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“We love you. So much.”

They smiled, hugging her one last time. “I love you all too. Wait for me, please.”

#twst fic #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #nephtali (on a bright cloud of music shall we fly?) #espi.ritu #neph gets a hatchet and insomnia in day 4 #this is essentially taking place as they stay awake through the night #imagine them sobbing over a hatchet #that's them as they remember this

[hua-fei-hua]

*looks at my ao3 works page like narcissus gazing into the mirror pool*

#earlier today i was like 'hey what if i checked up on the tdmm collection' and then i had to reel in the leash on that #and be like 'what if you loved yourself and didn't purposely make yourself sad by comparing yourself to other writers in the community' #and-- this is the excellent news-- i loved myself and didn't look so yay!! feels good :D #can't feel bad if i never look at anything that makes me compare -w- #self care means getting a divorce and then not checking up on your ex while continuing to enjoy the things you did together alone #would love to join other bnha communities!! But Not That One #it's really just a me thing #love it when people come to me tho and we form a lil community like that... that's fun #would also like to hear echoes about what's going on in the Greater Community #i wonder if people wonder why i don't participate in the community on like. discord or smth #honestly i think i'm just glad i can write fic more for myself than anyone else #that's Very Important #花話 #will i go to bed soon? i have no idea!! i'm not sleepy

[rin-itoshi]

kisses . genshin impact (pt. 2)

> summary: places the genshin boys kiss you other than the lips (ft. bennett, chongyun, razor, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli)

> content: fluff , gn!reader , ooc(?idk)

here’s part one!

# BENNETT

where: your palm!

why: this man does not know how to stfu, so when you have to forcefully shush him, your palm is the best spot for his lips to kiss.

“It’s awfully quiet today,” you murmured as you turned on your heels, hearing the whirlwind of a boy coming your way. He nearly tumbled—so close to crashing at your feet but fortunately caught himself before he could hit the ground. He stood up straight, dusting his clothes with a breathy laugh before yelping out a pained, “Ow!”

“What happened?” You ask as you reach out to cup his face, checking his head and skin for any injuries.

The male chuckled with a closed eyed smile, “I got hit by a rock!” His voice echoed within the city, making you slightly cringe when your ears ached. He was quick to go off on a tangent, babbling about some nonsense that made you even more confused than before.

“Bennett,” you call out to grasp his attention. The moment he turned your way, you slapped a hand over his mouth with an amused smile. “I know you’re excited and want to talk, but we should move away from the Knights of Favonius headquarters before Captain Kaeya kills us.”

He kissed your palm gently, eliciting a ticklish sensation in your hand that made you pull away. Before you could do anything about his sneaky kisses, he grabbed your hand and began dragging you away, talking about some adventure team he was putting together.

# CHONGYUN

where: your shoulders!

why: he likes the smoothness of your shoulder when he lays down behind you and can rest easily without being judged.

The bedroom door creaked open to reveal the blue haired male who stood in the doorway with a pensive look on his face. Upon seeing you lying in your shared bed, he exhaled deeply and you could practically see relief wash over is features. “[y/n],” he breathed out as he shuffled into the room, scurrying over the bed to climb onto the silk sheets and lay himself in the spot behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his chest as gently as possible. As hesitant as he was, he was way too tired to be reluctant about holding you even thought you clearly felt the same need for touch as him. “’m so tired.”

After a long day of training, he was exhausted and was in desperate need of your touch in order to replenish the energy he had depleted earlier that day. It was only much better now that you were both living together and were able to cuddle as much as needed after work.

“Welcome home, my love.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, doing his absolute best to push away the strong emotions that burned inside of his heart. He refused to flare-up in front of you ever again, but with you unknowingly doing things to stir him up, he was always struggling to keep calm.

Peppering kisses along your shoulders, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the cold sensation of his lips on your skin. It was a blissful feeling, warming up your heart with love despite how cold his body truly was. Too beautiful.

# RAZOR

where: your eyelids!

why: this one may sound weird but he just gets curious when he keeps watch and tends to do it without a thought.

Razor stood tall at the peak of the mountain that you both temporarily resided on. His chin was held high, chest puffed out with a sense of responsibility flowing through his veins at the thought of watching over you while you slept to keep you out of harms way. It wasn’t necessarily a demanding duty but for you, it meant a thousand times more than it usually would have.

The boy approached your sleeping body. You were rested on the ground under his jacket that barely shielded you from the cold weather tonight presented to you both. He gently tugged his jacket further up your body, covering your arm that had been slightly exposed.

You were cute like this, sleeping so peacefully with so much trust in the guy who could barely communicate yet you loved him so much. It was amazing.

Subconsciously, he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on your eyelid. You stirred in your sleep, forcing him to jolt away in surprise before settling when you murmured something sleepily, smiled and then relaxed. Your behavior was new to him and yet, it brought so many different feelings into his heart. Unknowing to you, he smiled genuinely and patted your head gently.

“You rest. I keep watch.”

# XIAO

where: your forehead!

why: he just thinks it is less embarrassing than trying to kiss you on the lips openly + less chances of him getting denied the kiss.

His expression was rather dark as you stood in front of one another. It looked like he was thinking deeply about something but you brushed it off, assuming it was just his way of sulking since you two were about to split for the night.

“I packed you some Almond Tofu, so you can eat some on your way back. I also got you a jacket to wear since it might be a little cold in the evening. I know you don’t sleep and stuff, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Your rambling about his well-being wasn’t new to him, which is why he didn’t interrupt you. He watched with the same dark expression that seemed scary but if you looked closely, you would see just how soft those eyes had become after spending so much time with a “mere human” like you.

Grasping you by the back of you head, he pulled you forward and leaned in briskly, kissing your forehead softly before pulling away and turning around. You barely had a second to recover as he adjusted his mask on his face and disappeared from your sight, muttering nothing but a simple, “be careful.”

You smiled at the tingling sensation on you skin, knowing he had only escaped to avoid feeling any type of emotion after kissing you so brazenly. As mean as Xiao seemed, he really was a simpleton with you.

# XINGQIU

where: the back of your hand!

why: do i have to explain?

“Xingqiu, where are we going?” You asked with a tired smile on your lips as you allowed yourself to be dragged along this upward slope with no set destination in mind. The boy simply laughed, pulling you faster until you were nearly tripping over your own feet. By the time you had planned to complain once more, he came to an abrupt stop and you almost bumped into his body if it wasn’t for your quick senses. “Where are we?”

“Take a look, my liege. Quite fascinating, is it not?” He said as he took a seat on the branch perched on the top of the hill, big enough for the two of them to sit on. You plopped beside him, admiring the sun that was beginning to set while Xingqiu opened a book to the page he had left off on.

“My life seems fulfilled when I am sat here with a book in my hands and you by my side. Don’t you agree?” HIs words were sincere, surprisingly void of that mischievous tone he usually had these days.

“I’m not particularly fond of books like you, but I am extremely fond of you. So, yes, I do agree.” You said with a cheesy smile, leaning in his direction. The boy abruptly stood up, and you rose an eyebrow in confusion.

Bending his body slightly, he held out his hand to you until you placed yours on top of his. Once you did so, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand and flashed you an easy smile. “With this, I owe my life to you, my liege. A vow much greater than marriage.”

# ZHONGLI

where: your lips!

why: I legit couldn’t think of a non-lips spot so i gave up. mans just likes the way your lips taste like his favorite wine. two good things.

He admired his cup with bright eyes, absolute taken with the way it tasted on his tongue and hadn’t changed in all these years. It was a beautiful emotion that was a mixture of happiness and nostalgia, plus a bit of romance considering he was here with the one he loved.

“What do you think?” Zhongli asked, eyes full of curiosity as he turned in your direction. You hadn’t said anything all night and he assumed you weren’t enjoying the wine he had presented to you so happily.

On contrary, it was way too good to be wasted, so you chose to drink it slowly in order to savor the beautiful taste that somehow reminded you of Zhongli himself. Maybe it was because he talked about this wine too much.

“It tastes good,” you murmur, leaning into his side to gain a bit of warmth from the male who shared the emotion, leaning into your touch.

You glanced up at him, smiling softly when you already saw his eyes on you. “Stop staring so impolitely. Where are your manners?” You asked jokingly, giggling softly when Zhongli looked down and chuckled.

Leaning in, he cupped your cheek and smashed your lips together. He could taste the Osmanthus wine on you and it nearly made him melt into the kiss that he had long suppressed.

When he pulled away, a small smile settled into his lips, satisfaction in his eyes. “Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember.”

a/n: finally, I finished it. im going to bed now uhhdhfjf (idk if i’ll ever do other characters but we’ll see)

#bennett x reader #chongyun x reader #razor x reader #xiao x reader #xinqiu x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #xingqiu #genshin impact #bennett #genshin #razor #xiao #genshin fluff #chongyun #zhongli

[maulusque]

Clone genetic enhancement ideas

So the clones were genetically enhanced, but i don’t really see any writers (in fanfic or in published stuff) really exploring what that MEANS beyond “clone very stronk”. Here are some ideas that would actually make clones significantly different from just a regular-ass human in peak condition. 

-enhanced senses: eyesight, hearing, etc. I’m talking eyes like a HAWK

-better reflexes

-quicker information processing

-can hear sounds of higher and lower frequency than standard humans

-can see light of a broader spectrum than human standard

-learn quicker, retain information and skills better (potential problem: if you learn something the WRONG way, that way might stick really well)

-photographic memory (really useful for memorizing layouts and maps)

-immunity to various diseases

-can tolerate a wider range of temperatures and environments

-increased stamina and strength baseline. Clones can just run full-tilt for hours and hours and be like “ah a nice stroll”. Over long distances, they can out-pace jedi in the same way that humans can out-pace horses.

-higher tolerance of certain poisons/toxins (clones can straight-up drink ethanol, and get maybe a little tipsy)

-bodies respond quickly to physical stress, and slowly to the absence of it (basically, this means that physical conditioning results in stronger muscles and a stronger cardiovascular system really quickly, and it takes MUCH longer for a clone to lose strength and conditioning due to not exercising than standard humans. Think how much valuable training time is saved if they only have to go on a run like, once a month in order to stay in shape)

-increased ability to function through intense pain and acute injuries. Basically, semi-disabling the pain system so it’s less distracting. Probably not good for the survival of the individual in many situations, but an advantage on the battlefield. 

-heal faster and better, with fewer long-term complications. Clones can dislocate their shoulders and NOT have the joint be permanently fucked up, because the Kaminoans re-designed the whole damn thing to suck WAY less.

-actually, unique internal anatomy. There’s probably a lot about the human body besides the shoulder joint that is actually just really stupid, and something no intelligent designer would actually build. So the Kaminoans can fix a lot of that stuff. Better knees, maybe. Stronger ribs. Maybe Cody punches droids not just because he’s a mad bastard, but also because his metatarsals are literally as strong as steel. 

-Hearing loss/hearing damage? No problem, your ear can regrow those little hair-thingies that help you hear. 

-Of course, it takes energy to maintain muscle mass, which is why human bodies lose it if we’re not using it. Clones need significantly more calories than standard humans. However, their digestive systems are enhanced to extract calories and nutrients from food much more efficiently, so food goes much farther. Potential weird side effect: maybe clones only have to poop like, once a week?

-You could probably extend that into increased ability to tolerate long periods without food/on low rations, despite the increased need for calories. 

-wouldn’t it be NEAT if the kaminoans somehow designed self-repairing DNA. This would mean that others couldn’t take a DNA sample from a clone and modify it to create their own clones (basically, it protects their product. It’s like DRM for clones). This ALSO means that clones couldn’t get cancer, and that they’d be immune to radiation poisoning. So a clone could just walk up to a sphere of uranium at critical mass and pick it up. Maybe with oven mitts on if it’s hot. (this would also make it harder for a rapid-aging cure to be developed, but uhhhh fanfic writers find a way)

- “bred for obedience” I think most of this would have to be accomplished through tightly-controlled messaging and cultural norms as the clones grow up- basically, enshrining obedience as a desirable and almost sacred trait, to be prized higher than anything else, including the lives of your brothers. In the same way that we hear stories of people sacrificing their lives to protect their loved ones, the clones would grow up hearing stories of soldiers sacrificing their brothers’ lives to obey an order from a superior. 

-SOME of the “obedience” thing could be engineered, though. Humans are already super social, but it would probably make sense for the clones to have an even greater need for social bonds. This would make for greater teamwork and coordination, and better unit cohesion, since the clones would be more inclined to prioritize friendship/agreeing with someone over winning an argument. It would also make it so they’d bond with their natural-born generals more easily, so they would obey them not just because they’re supposed to, but because they’d be much quicker to see them as a friend, and someone who’s trust they want to earn, someone they want to incorporate into their group and make happy.

-consequently, clones who find themselves alone do NOT do well. Isolation has a much more profoundly negative impact on clones than on regular humans.

-Originally, clones designed to operate alone or in small teams would not have the social enhancement- ARC troopers, spec-ops teams, etc. There wouldn’t be much of a noticeable difference in everyday interactions, but they’d also be vaguely weirded out by what they interpret as aggressive friendliness from their brothers, and their brothers would think they’re a bit shy and standoffish. 

-actually this social modification would make it MUCH harder for clones to kill people. REGULAR HUMANS are already super bad at killing people- i remember reading this article about how as soon as soldiers have to point their weapons at actual people, their aim gets mysteriously much shittier. Even when compared to situations that are exactly the same, except they’re not shooting at other humans. So reconcile this how you will, idk.

-I imagine a lot of these enhancements would be accomplished not through DNA, but through microorganisms. Retroviruses could explain the DNA resistant to modification, and the increased healing speed, and possibly some disease resistance (do i know anything about retroviruses other than a vague concept of what they are? no i do not. will that stop me? also no.) Their metabolism can be partially explained through specially engineered gut microbes.

-not sure how they’d go about making clones “resistant to any stress”, because you can’t exactly turn off the trauma response in the brain without breaking a bunch of other things. They could probably do a bit of fiddling to make clones more resistant to chemical imbalances, and therefore more depression-resistant. I think most of the “stress-resistance” would have to come through training. Either they train the clones to basically suppress everything, which might work alright in the short term. OR they actually have systems in place that help prevent the development of things like PTSD and help treat trauma. Meaning the clones are literally trained in self-care, positive self-talk, talking about their pain with their brothers, and having community rituals around things like death and grief. I don’t think that’s super likely because one thing that’s integral to those concepts is the concept of “i am a person and i have worth, and if i feel angry about something bad happening, that is ok and valid” and considering that a whole lot of bad things happen to the clones all the time and their childhood is a whole boatload of bad all happening at once, i don’t think the kaminoans would want the clones realizing “hey wait a minute i’m a person and i don’t deserve to be treated this way and it’s ok for me to be mad at you”. 

- the clones were supposedly engineered to be “less aggressive” but i think there was literally nothing more to that than a cover story for the control chip. The clones wouldn’t be raised with a lot of the aggressive western concept of masculinity, where anger is the default reaction to like, everything, and your personal pride is extremely important and also fragile (no offense lmao). So you wouldn’t have clones posturing and getting angry over perceived slights and fighting each other all the time, like everyone in-universe apparently expects to be the case. Anyway, why would you want your soldiers to be less aggressive? they’re literally supposed to fight and kill the enemy. You want them fully capable of getting angry, anger is the human response to fear and danger that lets us DO something about it. 

-obviously the biggest component in how they behave would be how they are raised, but that’s an entirely different post

-Specializations! I imagine that initially, the Kaminoans had different clones with different traits engineered specifically to fill certain roles. However, as the war went on, they struggled to keep up with demand and had to start shoving clones into whatever roles were needed (hence Fives and Echo becoming ARCs, despite not being engineered as ARC troopers). 

-Command clones would have better abilities in the executive function parts of the brain that deal with extrapolation, planning ahead, spatial reasoning, etc. They’d also have increased visual pattern recognition (like a pigeon)

-search-and-rescue troops would also have the pigeon pattern recognition abilities. The coast guard literally strapped pigeons to helicopters who would tap a button when they saw orange in the water, because they were better at spotting it than humans. Pigeons can detect cancer in microscope images of cells, because they’re that good at pattern recognition

-Pilots would have hella reflexes, excellent spatial awareness and spatial reasoning skills, much greater ability to process visual information, stronger hearts and blood vessels (to resist greater Gs of force), and they’d also be much shorter, to better fit into a cockpit. Which reminds me of Axe, that poor bastard from Ahsoka’s squadron over Ryloth who was almost eight feet tall. rip poor Axe, how did you even become a pilot, you long bastard.

-medics who can smell certain diseases. If you want to get a little bit out there, make the medics able to purr so they can sooth stressed-out patients. 

-infantry would have even greater endurance than everyone else, as well as greater tolerance for, and ability to, remain constantly on alert.

-ability to fall asleep at will? that would be super dope.

-maybe more efficient sleep, so to an adult clone, 4 hours of sleep is genuinely sufficient.

-concept: clones can sort of turn down their bodily functions- slow their digestion, heart, lungs, the whole nine yards- to last longer in adverse conditions. Sort of a half-hibernation (or quarter hibernation- they’d still be able to talk and think, but they’d feel very lethargic). They wouldn’t be able to function very well, but it would be great for things like enduring intense cold, periods without food, low-oxygen environments, and it would be especially useful if you were wounded and waiting for help, since you could slow your circulation, meaning it would take you a lot longer to bleed out. This state could be triggered by a combination of physical actions such as sitting or lying still, breathing slowly and deeply, and focusing on slowing the heart down (humans can actually slow down their hearts consciously if you practice at it, this is basically that, but turned up to like 1100).

-one thing that never made sense to me was the whole “we’re running out of jango fett’s DNA, all the new clones won’t be as good, and we have to stop ventress from stealing the original DNA” because like, can’t they just, get the EXACT SAME DNA from the clones?? you know, the exact genetic copies? With all the enhancements already done? But now my idea is that the kaminoans have engineered the clones so their DNA straight up can’t be copied. The clone’s own body can obviously replicate it, but if you take a sample and try to extract the DNA, it just self-destructs or something. This is to protect their intellectual property, but also means that they literally have to use a couple of Jango Fett’s actual human cells for every single clone they make (and the fact that they then have to do all the above enhancements to every single embryo helps explain why there’s so many small mutations, such as hair color and height). So they kinda shot themselves in the foot with that one. 

-of course since things like ADHD and autism have a strong genetic component, the kaminoans could theoretically engineer those out of the clones, but actually FUCK THAT so for whatever reason, that’s just not something they are able to do, and neurodivergent clones are absolutely a thing

#maulusque's stuff #meta #clones

[heavenlyeros]

All this recent lore seemingly pointing us to draw the connection between Umun’arath’s corruption and Saladin slowly falling to the darkness himself is driving me crazy. Is Xivu Arath whispering dark temptations to our favourite angry warmonger? We don’t know, but it sure seems like it. And then, of course, we have the emotional rollercoaster that Osiris has been going through. Naturally, I can’t help but look (respectfully) at these two arrogant and extremely competent men 👀 They have both spent a very long time with only themselves, and they are both acutely aware that they are good, so it’s no surprise they’ve built fortresses around themselves - and blinded themselves in the process, too. It’s been exciting and terrifying hearing these two grow to respect each other over the past few weeks, but while Crow sways Amanda to acceptance... I was not quite expecting Osiris to be swayed to Saladin’s views. He was always quite firmly in the middle, for what’s logical for the greater good if nothing else, and it makes sense, but it hurts. And that exchange where Osiris confirms his support were Saladin to split from the Vanguard and go against their wishes? Sign me the f up.

I wrote a thing about this, of course: my interpretation of what’s been going on in Osiris’ brilliant, idiotic bird brain. Warnings for angsty O14, Sagira, and general sadness. This is only how I see it (hint hint please come scream about lore with me whether you think the same or different), shaped in part by some amazing lore people in the community (check out r/destinylore and also tumblr user homosiris’ essay on Osiris if you haven’t because dayum, that’s some good shit that echoes my angsty feelings just right): 

Picture this: you wake up one day from your forever-slumber with no memory of who you were before. The little drone who appears to have brought you back - your ghost - explains that the Traveller has gifted you with Light. You have infinite questions. You might not precisely remember the world you came from, but you know it has changed. Everywhere you go is a battle: the hive, the fallen, even your own kind - war lords versus iron lords. You find out that not many were given this gift. There is no other logical option, of course, but to keep fighting these battles to protect those who cannot. You don't understand, but every day answers a new question, and you have faith that the machine god in the sky must have chosen you for a reason. Years pass, outright wars, the weight of leadership. Your questions take different shape. Reason chips away at blind faith. You realise, one day, that the only gift your people have been given is the gift of war - that the Light's gift for you was to be a warrior. Endlessly. Your questions make others uncomfortable. Eventually you are exiled. Your student, your colleagues, your friends - they don't stick up for you. But you've been bearing the gift of dying to protect others forever. You must carry on. And despite all of your doubts and all of your anger, the Traveller's shackles, your ghost, your little light - she sticks by you. She never stops supporting you. She is your dearest friend. The two of you spend what feels like an eternity in the corridors of time. Not lost, but always searching. You make echoes, countless reflections of yourself, but for centuries upon centuries the only voices you ever hear are Sagira's, and your own. No one reaches out. They did not listen before, and they will not now. You carry on fighting in your isolation, forever seeking an answer to the most frightening of questions - how do you stop the end of everything you hold dear, the annihilation of your people? The few who paid some mind to your so called "prophecies" are little more than fanatics. It lends you little credibility. You are not only an exile, you are a pariah; you are alone and that extends beyond the simulated limitlessness of the infinite forest. You would not admit to it, but you are lonely, too. Time changes you. Confined within these confluxes, doubt takes roots, and you realise your mistakes. No one ever came to apologise to you. But more painfully than that - you have no one to apologise to. Would they give you the chance, if you were to return? Would they even be there at all? Or would everything you failed to prevent have crushed them into nothingness? You must fight on. Time also makes you powerful. You were always amongst the very best, but in the forest you hone your skills into the closest thing your kind has had to godhood. If nothing else, you have faith in yourself. If no one else, you will prevail. Something changes, one day. In the blink of an eye you are lost in the inevitability of the vex's machinations. You lose Sagira, too, for her own good, maybe for good. No matter; you must fight on, you must continue in your mission before the calamity has time to sink in. But another Guardian shows up. They carry the fight where you couldn't. They bring with them Ikora, too, and she seems willing to listen. She invites you to come back - come home. But what you did get back was your little light, and a million more timelines to explore, infinite new questions, and you know there will be no place for you in the City that threw you out. You have become invincible, and with that invincibility comes the wisdom of knowing where you cannot take another blow. You have spent eternity preventing untold histories repeating outside the realm of your control. You have grown skilled at not repeating history. Amongst the people who left you behind - whom you left behind, a little voice that might not always be Sagira's nags in the back of your mind - was the one that you loved most. You would never say, you would never risk it. So when you find out that he did not abandon you at all, but has come on a crusade to get you back -- you don't know what to feel. Joy. Horror. Love. Fear. Only, you don't know what you fear most. And suddenly it feels like your whole life's work has come to exactly this moment. It is now your turn to get him back. It strikes you, all at once, the suffocating loneliness you have endured. The tether to your sanity that was your clear purpose. It terrifies you, the hurt Saint has been subjected to. It terrifies you, too, the purpose that has kept him fighting. You don't know what to make of it. But in the end, you don't have to. You don't succeed. You wouldn't ever let your countless failings eat at you, but this failure is like a dagger through your chest. It is the Guardian, once again, who recovers Saint. Time is funny and cunning like that. You know where to find him. You know you would be welcome back, too, but time has made you see open arms as little more than a cage, a trap waiting to close in on your lungs and crush them. The guilt, most of all, cannot be reasoned with. Saint is good. Saint represents every ounce of Light you wouldn't believe in but cannot help still having faith in, even after all this time. Saint would not see in you the hate that you do. You cannot put him through that. Saint deserves the world, and even in your egotistical confidence you know that you are not it. So you must fight on. For the world that Saint deserves. Sagira, of course, is as always by your side. You don't know how it happens. One moment you are a fury of light in its every shape, and the next you are alone. Truly alone. You had accepted time has finally come for you. You were ready to die. Not... not this. But you must carry on fighting. You have nothing else left. It is once again the Guardian who saves you - this time because you asked. Not to save yourself, but to avenge her. Days and weeks and months pass and all you can do is drown in the fight. You must do it for those you love, so you do not lose any more, even if they will not have you back. The fight takes a different form now, but it is still a fight. You are confined to the City. The place that exiled you, now become prison. All because you dared ask the questions that terrified them! And you paid dearly for it. You are heartbroken and tired and underneath it all you are angry - an anger that bubbles pleasantly to overtake all of the pain. You must not give in to it. You are invincible. This, too, time will heal. So you tell yourself you fight because of love. Your love for the people, your love for this prison-City, your love for Saint. You catch glimpses of people looking at you with pity and it fills you with rage. You cannot escape this anger. It keeps you fighting because you are so, so exhausted, and there is no place for you to rest your head. You have made your loneliness into a way of life. You do not need their pity. You will prevail, as you always have. Sagira might be gone, but you will learn to carry on. You always have, you will prevail. You will fight for those who are hurt - you will not fight just to hurt those who hurt you. That is how it's meant to be. And you are always right. You are the Vanguard Commander's advisor now. It feels like a mockery - the mighty phoenix, now little more than a flightless canary in a gilded cage. You remind yourself these people care about you. That after all this time, and after all of your perceived wrongs, they have taken you back. You remind yourself it is them you fight for, any way you can. It is a slow road back up now that you cannot fly, but you will make it out. You will come out soaring. Victorious. You know it is true; you are always right. You work alongside Lord Saladin. He carries the same exhaustion you are all too familiar with less gracefully than you do. You see him be consumed by countless traumas, you see him for what he is - a shellshocked veteran flailing in resemblance of fight, clinging desperately to a place he used to have in a world that has moved on. He doesn't sleep, doesn't care for himself, his living quarters are a mess. You almost pity him, but you have to stop yourself to laugh at just how similar you are. Saladin is past forgiving. Saladin is past compromise. He has let the hate consume him, make him blind - but in his anger you see him come alive with a fire you know you shall never again harness. Perhaps Saladin is right. Perhaps you were wrong. Perhaps the only way to not give up is to give in.

#destiny the game #season of the chosen #destiny 2 #lord saladin #osiris #destiny osiris #destiny #i have a lot of feelings and all of them hurt #if there is an ounce of potential for angst and pain in something you bet i will latch onto it like the hungriest monke #these two angry assholes? yes #i could have had something wholesome but no #give me the idiots #someone needs to slap some sense into them #at first i hoped osiris would slap some sense into saladin #and honestly? he is well known for playing the long game #he might not be the wisest but he is smart and a good strategist #so maybe this is all just a ploy for osiris to do exactly that #osiris has a voice line i think in presage about saint saying hello #he is not an island #he has a support group #i just really don't think he's actually accepted that whatsoever #maybe he will #or maybe he'll fuck up again he's good at that #tell a man you don't agree with him once and he will go fight literal god all by himself #anyway yes #p a i n o c l o c k

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Season 2 Summary (Volume 4: Ch 10 - 13)

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers from S2 🍒

Along with the update on 3 June 2021, the CN server released a “Plot Review” which contains bullet-point summaries of S2 :>

Volume 3 Summary: here

You receive a name list of people involved in the Evol assassinations, and realise that quite a number of them were participants in the Hunter Game. After considering the significance of this list, you decide to discuss the matter with Victor

With Victor’s prompting, you do a cost-benefit analysis and find that disclosing the document brings greater benefits than disadvantages. However, doing this will make LFG a target of the true mastermind behind the assassination incidents

“After all, he isn’t the only one with a trump card.”

As expected, disclosing the list results in heated debate from various segments of society

While leaving Souvenir one day, the brake of Victor’s car fails to work because someone tampered with it

The two of you have no choice but to speed around the city. Despite it being an incredibly dangerous situation, he remains composed, successfully resolving the issue before him. It’s the first time you realise how skilled Victor is in driving 

After the incident, you track down the person who tampered with Victor’s car, and find that he has been assassinated

Likely sensing your feelings, Victor invites you to the park after work. When you head to the park as arranged, you see his figure from afar as he waits for you

You deliberately send him a text, telling him that you’re still at work. He believes it at first, but reacts soon after. He scans his surroundings, then meets your eyes amongst the crowd

“Childish.”

While taking a stroll in the park, the both of you stop before a tree. A long time ago, Victor had coursed through time and entered the future in order to prove that the future could be changed. Back then, you had engraved your wish. This time, the same words are your source of determination. Next to you, Victor smiles and changes “May everyone be safe and healthy” to “Everyone will be safe and healthy”

When he takes you to the riverside, Victor finally tells you the true reason why he asked you to meet him. He’s currently acquiring businesses related to the “Small Syringes”. He needs this information to be publicly disclosed in order to lure the forces that are lying low to the surface voluntarily. Even though you’re worried, you choose to trust his decision. You volunteer to release this news as it can drum up a large volume of public opinion

Victor looks at you, his expression proud and gentle

"Here’s to a pleasant collaboration.”

After the news is made public, the reputation of LFG suffers a drastic decline as expected

On the surface, your interactions with LFG have lessened. At the entrance of LFG, Victor walks forward amid the remarks and hostility by passers-by. You want to defend him, but reason tells you to stay where you are, and not act impulsively

As your eyes gradually redden, you receive a message from him-

“The weather is pretty nice today.”

Victor’s plan progresses steadily. What you’ve done has also allowed the reputation of Black Swan to rise

Even though the two of you are walking in different directions, you are certain that you’re standing in the turbulent undercurrents together

The director of the hospital whom you once interviewed has discovered a reason for the pathological changes in Evolvers, and has invited you over to talk about it. Unfortunately, a group of Evolver gangsters has suddenly taken the hospital hostage

The STF rushes to the scene quickly. When you hear Gavin’s voice, your heart feels much more at ease

The main plotter, Yang Ping, has held normal civilians as hostages, and requests for a series of provisions to be made for Evolvers, so that Evolvers can have more “benefits”

Struck with an idea, you remain on the scene to assist Gavin at any moment. When he sees you, Gavin understands your intentions despite being worried

The STF receives an order from the higher ups to disregard the lives of the hostages, and go straight to quashing the situation. Gavin openly defies orders, choosing to safeguard the lives of everyone as a priority, and to negotiate with the gangsters

“I’ll take responsibility for all the consequences.”

During the confrontation with Yang Ping, Gavin uncovers Yang Ping’s true motive: to force the STF into harming someone in order to shatter the balance between civilians and Evolvers

Catching Gavin’s hint, you pretend that the negotiation went sour and that Yang Ping had injured you, turning the tides in your favour. After all, you’re simply an Evolver used as a chip in the negotiation. Yang Ping’s claim of “doing things with Evolvers in mind” no longer holds any weight

Because of this, the STF agents are given an opportunity to suppress the gangsters

Everything appears to be wrapped up smoothly, but the director is suddenly shot by a sniper. Yang Ping is also shot

Late at night, you spot Gavin standing below your house, braving the rain

Gavin seems to be experiencing complex emotions. To you, perhaps he was unable to fire every bullet for justice

Sensing that Gavin isn’t simply referring to the incident at the hospital, you tell him that you believe in his judgement

“I’ll find the truth behind this incident.”

Gavin also gives you an incredibly resolute response

A few days later, Gavin seems to have made up his mind. He tells you that he’s investigating an incident called “New Year’s Day Change”, and he needs your help

You agree immediately

Gavin has already contacted a key informant: an old ex-policeman. Because the forces behind the incident are incredibly complicated, he needs you to cooperate with him in putting on an act

“Miss Nox isn’t showing due respect by dampening one’s spirits the moment she enters.”

He needs those people who have been paying close attention to this incident to have a mistaken impression that he’s still searching for the old ex-policeman. In order to protect you, he needs you to leave his side

Gavin will be the target of scrutiny, while the eyes on you will slacken. You’ll use this opportunity to become the mode of communication between Gavin and his informants, safely assisting Gavin in advancing in his investigations

As the final step of this plan, Gavin pushes you off the top of a building

He appears determined in breaking off relations, while you're hesitant and powerless. But the both of you are clear that the plan is going as smoothly as imagined

“I’m the greatest danger.”

You know that Gavin is walking down his path resolutely. And you will naturally want to become the person standing beside him, walking down the same path

Through a report done by a member of Black Swan, you discover that the pathological changes in Evolvers are related to their Evol. You also realise that Helios seems to be investigating this matter

At the same time, Savin tells you that something has happened to Kiro, and he’s in the hospital. You immediately rush over, but you’re told that Kiro doesn’t want to see anybody

Across the door, you tell Kiro that you wish to see him. After a strange silence, he speaks slowly

“Thank you. You can go back.”

Behind the door, only Kiro knows the reason why he’s behaving strangely - due to a sonic bomb, he has lost his hearing

Kiro avoids you for many days, until he organises an exclusive “live concert” for you one evening. The next day, he’s finally willing to meet you. When you see that Kiro doesn't seem to have changed much, you relax a little, despite having many doubts

But in the evening, you receive a statement from him which says he’s “retiring from public life permanently”, and he vanishes

Knowing full well just how much he loves the stage, you decide to keep the matter hidden, attempting to look for him

Unexpectedly, you bump into Helios at the Black Swan building

“The person you’re looking for isn’t here.”

His cold attitude makes you understand that Kiro has turned himself into Helios. He’s hiding from you, and also himself

To have a better understanding of his actions, you look through the clues pertaining to him. When you investigate the Hunter Game again, a stone tablet with the symbol “8″ appears multiple times

In order to carry out a concrete investigation, you return to the forest where you had once participated in the Hunter Game, and search for that stone tablet

The moment you touch it, thorns and thistles grow on the stone tablet, cutting your hand and absorbing your blood. Before you can react, the ground underneath your feet opens. Just as you’re about to fall into the abyss, Helios saves you

Despite being faced with his icy attitude, you attempt to form a partnership with him to explore this place

In the dark, rays of light fluctuate into a message that neither of you can comprehend. 19, an artificial intelligence which remains here, enables you to understand that this place is a historical ruins left behind by the previous civilisation - “Lighthouse”

19 tells the both of you that their world was once as flourishing as it is right now, but it was destroyed. They left the “Lighthouse” behind in hopes of assisting the both of you in preventing the fated destruction

You and Helios also hear about the songs from that generation. Cultures and languages may not be the same, but music can cross barriers

When one song ends, Helios sings that melody in his own way, letting it echo in this time and space

"All of you still exist.”

After leaving the Lighthouse, you tell him that you’re going to continue with the investigations, and use your own method to tell Helios that you’re willing to face him, and would like to carrying out this operation with him. You hope that this time, he can walk towards you voluntarily

After returning, you receive a call from an unknown number

“It’s me.”

In order to investigate the Hunter Game further, you once again participate in the game as a punter

You do your best to search for the stone tablet in this game, but accidentally get targeted by two players. Just as you plan to fight with them, Shaw, whom you haven’t seen in several days, appears from behind you

The both of you cooperate, settling the score with the other two

“Tch. Not even one of you can fight.”

You tell him about the “Lighthouse”. Shaw, who has been researching on the historical ruins, guesses that the venue of the Hunter Game could be deliberately designed to be near the ruins. By using large amounts of Evol energy fluctuations, it could unseal the ruins

While the discussion has signs of a positive outcome, the two of you are still embroiled in the game

Shaw’s conspicuous ranking and high-key thunder and lightning have attracted numerous opponents to him. But with your cooperation, the enemies fail in succession

The metal chain around his neck notifies him that he has advanced into the next round, but he loses consciousness in your arms due to a fever

The youth who usually hangs around Joker appears before you. You use psychological tactics to goad him into sending Shaw to the hospital. On the other hand, you’re taken away by him for breaking the rules of the game repeatedly

When Shaw regains consciousness, he’s unable to contact you. He returns to the antique store, only to see that it has been swallowed up by an abnormal black flame

“Get lost!”

In spite of the firefighters’ obstructions, Shaw makes repeated trips into the shop, “rescuing” the calligraphy and paintings

By the time the fire is extinguished, the antique shop is already half scorched, as though it’s a warning

Based on the youth’s memories, you discover that Joker has once visited the former site of the BS research centre. In order to find out why, you hurry over

You inadvertently find that there’s someone in the archive room. Just as you're feeling tense, your phone suddenly rings - at 2.03pm, an unknown number calls you

The sound exposes you. Taking out a gun, you attempt to warn the person in the building

“I surrender.”

That person turns out to be Lucien, and he's holding a floppy disk in his hand

Lucien explains what he’s doing here, and even demonstrates how you can use the data in the floppy disk

A series of numbers flash on the screen before it turns dark

Having considered that this process of reading data is highly confidential, Lucien notes how they might have been watched earlier, and that it’s better to leave

However, you suddenly feel dizzy. In the next second, you find yourself in the corridor. The door to the archive room is shut tight, and you can’t see Lucien anyway

Even though you’ve clearly set your phone to silent mode, it rings again. The screen shows that it’s 2.03pm. It’s a missed call from an unknown number

Returning to the archive room, it’s as though Lucien didn’t meet you earlier

You surmise that you’re experiencing this for the second time, and Lucien believes you without hesitation, speculating that you might have been in a time loop

Just as he says, whenever a certain amount of time passes, everything returns to 2.03pm

Unexpectedly, but as a matter of course, Lucien believes you every single time. He analyses the situation with you, helping you escape from the time loop

After a few more time loops, Lucien figures out a way to escape

“This time, let me accompany you in jumping out of this looping time.”

Time requires an object of reference. You're at the centre of the time loop circle, and the compass drawing the circle is your phone

Because this phone is special, it doesn’t vanish when you leave it with Lucien. At the same time, in order to measure time, your phone reappears in your hand

Since one object cannot exist in two places at the same time, this results in a contradiction that causes time and space to collapse

The next day, you and Lucien meet along the corridor, and agree to go on a stroll outside

Even though many things are unclear, the radiance of spring before you makes everything seem as though they are going in a beautiful direction. You can’t help but mention the promise you once made with Lucien to fly kites

“Spring may not necessarily arrive at a fixed time.”

In a teasing manner, Lucien says that he isn’t late. You also think that perhaps many things can start afresh

All of a sudden, you feel a severe pain in your chest-

“Now, spring has just begun.”

The words Lucien just said have yet to disperse

At this moment, he’s holding your collapsed form. The only colour in his monochrome world is gradually fading

Volume 5 (Ch 14 - 17): here

More S2 content: here

A detailed translation of Gavin’s part is available here!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers

[four-loose-screws]

FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 17, Section 1

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.

———————————

Chapter 17 - The Demon King's Shadow

There were five Sacred Stones total, and all of them were passed down within each of the nations of Magvel. Eirika and her army had safely obtained Renais' Sacred Stone, but Grado, Frelia, and Jehanna's Stones had already been destroyed.

They now were seeking the last one, and so they decided to march to the Theocracy of Rausten. Their guide was none other than Princess L'Arachel.

Once they left Renais, they traveled in peace for a long while. They were not attacked by any enemies nor any monsters. They were also blessed with good weather, and L'Arachel was in a fantastic mood.

"It's good to return home sometimes. I wonder if Lord Uncle is doing well?"

Dozla was walking alongside her. His guffaw echoed through the air. "Pontifex Mansel is sure to be very surprised! You've grown into an even finer young woman than you were when you left home, Lady L'Arachel!"

"Oh, Dozla, stop it!"

*Can I ask you somethin’?" Rennac was trudging along behind them. He said with a bored, apathetic look on his face, "This Pontifex Mansel person will pay me my money, right? Every gold coin his niece has avoided paying me…?"

"Oh, that's right, Eirika! There are many exceptional bards in Rausten. And the one we all talk about most, Saaga, is so amazing that he moves me to tears no matter how many times I listen to him perform. I want you to hear him as well!"

"...Uh-huh..." Eirika turned back and caught a glimpse of Rennac out of pity for him. 

He looked utterly exhausted and worn out as he muttered, "...She ain't even listenin’." 

Eirika didn't know whether L'Arachel really didn't hear him, or whether she just pretended not to, but either way, L'Arachel's voice gradually became more and more cheerful.

"But this time, it is my turn to tell the bards of my many adventures! Our services for the greater good are sure to become a beautiful poem passed down for many generations to come!"

"If so, I wonder if I will be in this poem as well?"

"Oh, Dozla, of course! You will go down in history as my loyal servant!"

"Ohhhhhh, what an honor that will be! You have moved me greatly by saying so!"

"You don't have to record much of anything about me. Just pay me." Rennac muttered.

"We will soon reach the Narube River. Dozla, do you remember when we crossed it? Monsters were trying to attack a boat traveling upon it, so we gallantly rushed in and saved some ordinary citizens who were trying to escape…"

"We should be able to rendezvous with the Frelian Army here." Innes forcefully cut into their conversation. He unsurprisingly seemed to be fed up with L'Arachel's cheerful banter.

Eirika smiled and added to show that she heard what he'd said, "Yes. And when we do so, it will make all of our battles from here on out much easier."

"Of course. We will be teaming up with Frelia's most elite unit."

The Frelian Army had departed their home country following a different route from Eirika's army, and were now going to Rausten as well. Eirika had received a report from the pegasus knights that they should be able to meet up somewhere within the vicinity of Narube.

They would combine with the Frelian Army to bolster their numbers, then obtain Rausten's Sacred Stone so they could capture Lyon this time with all of their forces. That was her army's current strategy.

No matter how powerful Lyon's Dark Stone may be, they had nothing to fear if they had two Sacred Stones. The army he led was now nothing more than the survivors from Grado, so his numbers and weapons likely wouldn't compare to Eirika's. L'Arachel and all of the other members of her army were making cheerful expressions because they could feel hope for the road ahead.

But their cheerful march did not last for much longer. The moment they reached the Narube River, they froze. Two ordinary citizens were cowering alongside the road.

They were a young girl and an elderly man. The exhausted man was comforting the girl, who appeared to be his granddaughter.

The girl noticed Eirika's army and pulled back in fear.

Eirika dismounted her horse and quietly approached her so as not to surprise her. "What happened? Do you live around here...?"

"...You're not with the Grado Army? You're not, right?" The tension drained from the girl's body with a sigh of relief. 

But on the contrary, her words made Eirika's army nervous. "You saw the Grado Army? Somewhere close to here?"

"Yes."  Terror flashed through the girl's big eyes, and she nodded. "They attacked us suddenly. A group of soldiers wearing Grado’s armor came here… and set our village on fire. They killed all of the men who tried to stand up to them… Just when we thought it was all over for us, Frelia's pegasus knights rushed in and saved us. But… the Grado Army is so strong it's terrifying… most of the soldiers from Frelia were killed."

"What? The Frelian Army was killed by the remaining soldiers from Grado?" The color drained from Innes' face, and he pulled in closer to the girl. 

His angry expression spooked her. She shrunk back closer to the old man, then nodded. "Y-Yes…"

"Not all of them were defeated, right? For every last member of Frelia's elite to be gone…"

"No, there is a unit still fighting. But only one. The other units were all defeated. There's still a few friends in our village who have yet to escape… The last of the Frelian Army is still doing everything they can to protect them. Please save them! Please…"

"Understood. Let's go, Eirika!" Innes shouted.

However, Eirika was worried about the look on the face of the crouching old man that the girl had protected. His face was twitching like he'd suffered a horrifying experience, and his lips moved as if he was trying to say something.

Eirika approached him, bent down next to him, and gently said, "You're okay now. We will defeat the Grado Army and save the villagers. Please try to relax and…"

"...No match… for him." The old man muttered something in a muffled voice. 

"Huh?" Eirika responded.

"You are… no match… for him. You are no match… for a terrifying person… like him…"

The man was shaking all over, and continued speaking in a mumble. The words that she only just barely managed to make out were ominous. "No… he's not… a person… He's not... human… He's… a monster… He's… the Demon King…"

"The… Demon King? What does that mean?" Eirika felt a chill crawl down her spine for no discernable reason, and her voice lowered to a hush.

The old man's eyes were wide open, and his breathing was shallow. 

His granddaughter noticed this and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, then she said to Eirika, "I'm sorry. Grandfather rushed right out when the village was attacked… and seems to have seen him. The commander leading the Grado Army…"

"Their commander? Who could it have possibly been…?"

"I didn't see, so I can't say anything at all, but… Grandfather was saved by the Frelian Army when he was in danger. Still, he's absolutely terrified. I have no idea what he saw."

"...Can you tell us what kind of person the enemy commander was…?”

The moment she tried to ask the man for more details, L'Arachel suddenly cried out, "Look at that! There's someone over there…"

Eirika looked up in the direction L'Arachel was pointing to.

A black shadow rose over the grass.

Or so it appeared to be at first glance, for it radiated a gloomy aura all around it. Then Eirika realized that it was someone she knew well, standing with his back slightly hunched over, not moving a muscle. 

Eirika whispered before she even knew what she was saying, "Lyon…?"

Grado's prince was staring at her from beneath his long bangs. His eyes were cold and unfeeling.

Eirika's heart was filled with a sense of relief. Even though they were currently enemies, they could communicate with each other from the heart. ‘I'll always be your ally…' She could hear his voice clearly even now.

'I want to talk with him. I want to ask him for the answers to all of my doubts.' With her mind focused on only that one thought, she tried to walk over to him.

But Ephraim saw her moving and sharply yelled at her to stop. "Stop, Eirika! Don't get anywhere near him!"

"Brother…?"

Ephraim stood in front of her as if to shield her from something, and glared at Lyon.

Lyon's expression abruptly softened. Considering Ephraim's threatening look, his was so gentle it was strange. "Hey, Ephraim… What's the matter? Why are you making such a scary face…?"

 "Lyon! How dare you appear before me with such a calm look on your face!"

Lyon tilted his head at Ephraim’s violent words like he didn't know what Ephraim meant.

"You remember the time we met in the capital, right? Don't tell me you forgot!" Ephraim's voice became more and more harsh with each word. Lyon, by contrast, was calm, and even smiling.

"Of course I remember! I would never forget… Ephraim, we're finally meeting again after so much struggle… Why are you so mad? Did I do something to upset y-?"

"Shut up!" Ephraim sharply cut him off.

Eirika anxiously looked for an opportunity to stop her brother. If he continued to speak with such hostility, they would lose their chance to talk with Lyon.

However, his anger was so fierce that she couldn't carelessly call out to him. All she could do was watch over them, with all of her apprehensions weighing on her mind.

"What did you say then? That you were the one who instigated this war… and that you were the one who invaded Renais and killed my father? That was what you said, right?!"

"Ephraim…" Lyon suddenly made a sad face in response. 

Eirika couldn't stay silent any longer. She softly placed a hand on her brother's back and said, "Please stop. Brother. Don't talk like that."

"Eirika…"

Ephraim turned around and said in a strong tone to warn her, "He's not the Lyon we know. He's being controlled by an evil power. Probably the Dark Stone…"

"That can’t be… You're not yourself today, Brother…" Eirika could feel that Ephraim had made up his mind.

Eirika didn't know exactly what their conversation in Grado Castle had been like. Everything she knew was from her brother's report. She didn't think that he had lied to her, but they couldn't say there wasn't a chance that he lost himself when he was agitated, and interpreted everything Lyon said as animosity, even though Lyon might have come seeking reconciliation.

"Why are you looking at Lyon like he's suspicious? He's our dear friend, isn't he?"

"Eirika…"

 "Lyon said that he will be our ally no matter what. Isn't that right, Lyon?"

"Yes, of course! I'm so happy, Eirika. You really are very kind. Why don't you come… closer…" Suddenly, Lyon's body stiffened. He bit his lip, signaling that he seemed to be enduring intense pain. But he couldn't suppress his voice, and a quiet groan escaped his lips.

"Lyon? What's the matter? Are you alright, Lyon…?" Eirika remembered that Lyon's body was not very strong.

Since long ago, he often broke out with fevers, and his swordsmanship never improved significantly. He was even embarrassed, and it made him feel inferior. But though his body was weak, because he possessed superior intelligence and sensibility, Eirika thought he should be more proud. Yet he still seemed to lack confidence in himself and be troubled by his weaknesses.

Lyon's face twisted, though now it was less in pain and more in anger. "Gah…! Don't get in my way…!" The moment Lyon shouted in frustration, his knees gave out, and he fell atop the grass.

Eirika tried to run straight over to him, but his sharp voice made her feet stop moving.

"Get away from me, Eirika!"

"Huh?"

The anger vanished from Lyon's face. In its place a desperate, pleading expression formed before he shouted, "You can't come near me! Hurry, get away…! If you don't, then I'll…"

"Lyon! What's wrong? What's happ-"

"I'll destroy you… Run… Hurry out of h-" Lyon cut his words short, and hid his face.

Eirika was utterly shocked. She was worried about his health, but he had told her to run. She found it hard to decide what to do, and didn't move.

Lyon slowly raised his head. On his face returned the same cold smile he had when he first appeared. He said in a calm voice, "Sorry for worrying you, Eirika. I’m alright now. That was just a light spasm."

 "...Lyon?" If they were true, then those words should have reassured her, but for some reason, they only made her feel all the more worried. She took a step back against her own wishes.

This was not Lyon. That was the first thought that immediately came into her mind. Lyon didn't smile like that. He would never coax her in such a terrible way 

"Be careful, Eirika. Don't leave any holes in your stance. He's not Lyon." Ephraim said. 

Lyon… no, this being with the same face as the prince, laughed in amusement. "I'm not Lyon? Don't say such strange things, Ephraim. Oh, I get it. You don't like seeing me with so much energy? Would you be satisfied if I suffered a more severe spasm? You always looked at me like you would. You said that Lyon is a weak, pitiful child. But that was just your impression. You did not know anything about me…"

"That's not true." Ephraim refused to be provoked by Lyon’s attempts to agitate him, and responded in a calm voice, "We were friends. Of course, that doesn't mean we knew everything about each other. It wasn’t that simple. But I knew what was most important. You… Lyon was not the type of person to ever deceive or betray us. He wasn't a terrible creature like you, trying to enchant us with whatever words we wanted to hear. He wasn't a horrible person like that. You are not Lyon. You cannot be him.”

Lyon tilted his head to the side and stared straight at Ephraim, but, little by little, his expression began to change. The smile he was directing at them twisted into an arrogant smirk that could even be considered brazen. “Hmph… I see. It seems that human feelings are not something that I can underestimate.”

Eirika could not believe her ears. His tone was more sarcastic than any she’d ever heard before in her life. 

“Pretending to be human was more fun than I ever expected it to be, but… there’s no need to keep up that facade any longer. You saw right through me, Prince of Renais. This body no longer belongs to Prince Lyon.”

“Damn you! ...I knew it! So you have taken over Lyon’s body?!” Ephraim shouted. “I don’t know what you are, but get out! Get out of Lyon’s body right now! Or else I’ll…!”

“Or else you’ll what? Come now, what are you going to do, you foolish prince? Prince Lyon’s heart is already almost entirely gone. I’ve eaten it all up…”

“What did you just say…?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I ate it. Though it resisted and screamed, I ate it up. For a descendant of Grado, he had such a weak heart…”

“Damn you…!” The anger disappeared from Ephraim’s voice. He tried his very hardest to keep himself together, but his voice still shook slightly.

Eirika was taken utterly aback. This was the first time she’d ever seen her brother tremble before an enemy.

“What are you?!”

“You still don’t know? You really are an utter fool, prince of Renais. You should remember your legends that have been passed down through the ages. The name of the enemy you sealed away.”

“He can’t be…” Eirika whispered.

“The Demon King… of ancient times…” Ephraim growled.

He burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the air. He'd already given up his human facade, and a malicious aura radiated around him.

He was the being known as the Demon King, that had existed eight hundred years ago and was feared by humanity. He’d led countless monsters and did as he pleased with the continent of Magvel. The fire his monsters breathed burned down the villages and towns, and drowned the people in the depths of despair.

What became the people's final hope was the five Sacred Stones and the hero Grado. He led his soldiers, challenged the Demon King to battle, and in the end, succeeded in sealing away the Demon King’s soul. This finally brought peace to the continent, and humanity created new towns atop the ashes. The hero Grado founded an empire, and the brave soldiers that fought with him each built their own countries. 

That was all supposed to already be a thing of the distant past, and become legend. The Demon King wasn't supposed to be resurrected ever again. But the seal had been broken, and the Demon King revived. And he’d even taken the body of a descendant of Grado, the very man who’d defeated him.

The Demon King said with satisfaction in his voice, “Prince Lyon will never appear again. This body has already yielded to me. It is mine now!"

But then the Demon King clutched his chest with one of his hands. It appeared that the gesture meant that Lyon’s heart continued to try its hardest to resist, and the Demon King was trying to keep him suppressed.

“Don’t worry, I will grant you your desire to kill Prince Ephraim of Renais, and claim Princess Eirika. That was what you wanted, is it not?

“Damn you…” Ephraim tightened his grip on his lance, however, before he could launch his attack, the Demon King vanished.

“He ran away…?” Ephraim looked around.

Eirika turned her head towards him. “No, Brother. He’s not running, but trying to lure us somewhere. I think his target is more likely the people of Narube that haven’t escaped yet and the survivors of the Frelian Army. He wants to attack them and lure us to him.”

“You’re right. Let’s hurry, Eirika. We must save Frelia’s unit!”

“Yes, we must…” Eirika nodded, but did not feel like giving the order straight away. 

Ephraim noticed her expression, and looked at her. “What’s the matter, Eirika?”

“Brother, I wonder what Lyon’s… No, the Demon King’s final words meant. About Lyon’s desires…”

Ephraim winced and said, “It was just part of an enemy’s plot to make us falter. Don’t worry about it. It’s more important we think about the Frelian Army and the people of Narube first.”

“...Yes, it is.”

Ephraim was right. Their allies were fighting desperately to protect the citizens. Rescuing them came first.

#fire emblem #fe #fe8 #sacred stones #eirika #game boy advance #gba #japan #japanese #translation #novel #light novel #fe8 novelization translation

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto (Arrival - Bit 2)

Prologue Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 Arrival - Bit 1 | Bit 2

Well, these posts seem to be getting longer. I’m pondering if I should make them shorter and more often.

As always, many thanks to @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ @janetm74​ and @onereyofstarlight​ for their amazing support and who without putting up with my crazy this fic would likely not exist.

We are finally there and things can start happening. Wow, planning makes for longer fics apparently.

I hope you enjoy it ::hugs you all::

-o-o-o-

As the rest of the family exited the cockpit, Michael watched John deploy the last of the long chain of communication buoys into orbit around Callisto and held his breath.

The space monitor was frowning at his console as they both waited for that final connection to click into place.

A moment and John’s face relaxed.

And Michael with it.

His own board flashed up with a connection confirmed through the chained micro-tunnel drives.

John hit his comms. “Tracy Island, this is Thunderbird Excel. Do you copy?”

They waited.

A heartbeat.

“Thunderbird Excel this is Tracy Island. Great to hear your voice, John.” Even Michael could hear the smile in Kayo’s voice. “I have a lot of green and pretty lights here. Send me the tests and I will bounce them back.”

“Sending now.” John’s fingers darted across his board and Michael watched the system take on the workload and churn data all the way back to Earth. “And I must say, Kayo, it is lovely to hear your voice, too.”

“Looking forward to hearing yours often. Data incoming. Will apprise results.”

“Looking forward to it, Thunderbird Excel out.” John’s fingers flicked again and the comms signal closed.

“Thunderbird Excel?” Michael arched an eyebrow at the astronaut.

John shrugged. “Well, I think she’s earned it now, don’t you?”

“Mmmm.” He looked back down at his board. The thought of having contributed to creating an actual Thunderbird...

He was startled when a shadow passed over his hands. “You’ve done well, Michael. Thank you.”

He looked up at the red-headed Tracy floating beside him. John was an enigma. He was a brother like any Tracy, but unlike the eldest who hated him with a passion that saw no border, John was quiet, even kind. Michael had been working alongside Brains and John and occasionally the youngest, for over a year now, and while he doubted he and John would ever be close friends, there was a mutual respect.

Plus, the distinct feeling that if Michael ever laid a finger on any of John’s brothers ever again, he would not survive the attempt.

It was definitely the quiet ones who should be worried about.

Not to mention Eos.

Michael really wished he could get his hands on that piece of code.

But again, he felt that it would be his last action in this universe.

Not that John had ever threatened him.

He didn’t need to.

“Are you feeling okay?” Turquoise eyes were peering down at him.

“I am well. No need to worry.”

The astronaut smiled. “Good. Monitor the comm network and liaise with Brains regarding the T-Drive’s performance. Let’s see if we can cut down on the jumps on the way back. I’d prefer to go through as little of the nausea as possible.”

“Agreed.”

John arched an eyebrow and his lips curled up. “I’ll be in Thunderbird Five assessing the danger zone and coordinating with Thunderbird Three.”

“FAB.”

The astronaut stared at him for just an extra moment longer before pushing off Michael’s console and throwing himself towards the cockpit exit.

“Thank you, John.”

A flicker of a smile and the last Tracy disappeared through the door, leaving Michael alone.

-o-o-o-

Virgil hated the IR spacesuits. They were far too tight and left nothing to the imagination.

Also, the red baldrics clashed horribly with his green stripe enough to rip his eyeballs out.

But although his standard uniform was satisfactory for short forays into space, it was not enough for a space mission of this magnitude as it did not have the survival and safety mechanisms needed in an emergency. So, here he was dressed like some kind of spandex wearing superhero, his heavy lifting muscles providing a great anatomy lesson to any within eyesight.

“Looking good, Virg.” Gordon’s eyes were laughing.

“Shut up, Fish.” The aquanaut was used appearing all but naked in front of thousands. Hell, Virgil had nothing to be ashamed of, it was just difficult to keep a straight face in a professional capacity.

How the hell John lived in one of these things was a mystery Virgil had no interest in exploring.

The alternative was wearing something like Alan’s spacesuit, but that had its own issues regarding his exosuit and despite the...exposure, this was the best option.

At least he had a little security with the addition of his exosuit support padding and his harness – never leave home without it. That and his baldric covered a little of his modesty.

Didn’t stop his brothers’ comments though.

Alan actually snorted in laughter.

Scott raised an eyebrow, but then their commander was dressed the same and, much like John, was giving the Greek gods a run for their money in the process.

Virgil felt like a dwarf from The Lord of the Rings. What was his name? Gam? Gim? Gimli? Standing next to that bleached elf.

Virgil grunted. “Let’s do this, already.”

Okay, the grin on Scott’s face was both worth it and damned annoying.

Dad had chosen a version similar to Alan’s suit. Due to his health concerns, Virgil had recommended extra support with arm guards and greaves built into his boots. He had glared at Virgil, but Virgil was a Tracy and just as stubborn as his father and if he wanted to go on this mission he could damn well meet him halfway.

Dad wore the protection.

They had Uncle Lee’s ‘space skivvies’ measurements on file and the IR fabricators had churned out an IR uniform echoing their father’s. Considering the astronaut’s skillset, Virgil had coloured his baldric stripe as green as his own and thrown in some of his own kit.

The colour combination still ripped out eyeballs.

Thunderbird Three was nestled into the Excel much like she had been into the XL, but higher up, leaving the massive thrusters behind her and nestling instead of providing the main superstructure of the craft.

To compensate for the loss of One and Two, the Excel now had a third engine on her dorsal plane to offset the two massive pectoral lightspeed engines. Together the three engines provided the huge ion thrust needed to propel them vast distances. And when the T-Drive was required, the third would go dark, the original two engines would flare up and give him his next case of nausea.

Three still connected with Five for extra stability, but she was no longer mandatory for the Excel. Where the XL had basically been an exosuit for Three to break the lightspeed barrier, the Excel was now more Five’s exosuit as she was the one Thunderbird the Excel needed to operate at her best.

Johnny’s ‘bird now had wings.

Very, very big ones.

The cockpit was crowded but quiet as Alan smoothly disengaged Three from the bigger craft, spinning her in space and pointing her towards the moon.

Virgil shifted in his suit, uncomfortable as hell. Not enough to be world ending, but annoying. Beside him, his father glanced in his direction with a concerned frown.

“Are you okay, son?”

That, of course, prompted an equally concerned frown from Scott in front of him.

“I’m fine.” It wasn’t a complete lie, he could live with the suit. His arm was still aching and his stomach had yet to forgive him despite the food he had shoved into it, but he could probably get away with that.

The worst of it was the lack of sleep.

Scott’s eyes were far too knowing.

The medic in him knew that they were going into a potentially dangerous situation. Hell, they were in space right now, not exactly Tracy Island’s pool patio for relaxation. They needed to be alert and ready.

He had tried to sleep. He had sent all of his brothers to nap during the voyage out here. But he doubted any of them managed much.

He certainly hadn’t.

Scott knew because Virgil could see it reflected in those blue eyes of his. He still looked worn, though he tried to hide it, ever the professional.

Dad.

Dad was still looking at him with questioning eyes.

Virgil sighed. “I’m just tired. I can manage.”

Those lips pressed together, obviously displeased.

Typical.

His father was so like Scott in so many ways that having both of them to contend with on this mission was going to send Virgil grey.

It was okay for them to go out on a limb, risk their lives for the greater good, but if someone they cared about did the same, they were all worry and you can’t do that.

As if to emphasize that thought, his father’s frown fixated on Scott. Virgil followed his gaze, but from his angle could only see the back of his brother’s head.

Another glance at his father and the concern was clearly there.

Perhaps something was starting to sink into Dad’s head. Maybe he was realising what he was risking.

Who he was risking.

Three shook a little as she breached the minimal atmosphere of the moon. Alan was muttering orbital calculations. Each large planetary body was different and required a catered approach.

The Base had sent vectors and the conditions that constituted ‘weather’ on the barren moon, but there were many firsts in this mission and this was one of them.

For the benefit of the rest of them, Alan threw up a hologram of their approach.

The massive crater known as Asgard swelled on the screen. It was very bright, even in the weak sunlight. Probably ice. To the north of it lay an even brighter splash of white, rays extending out across the heavily cratered surface for miles.

As they sank, the horizon formed in a sharper curve than Virgil was used to. Sharper than Mars which was the only other planetary body beyond Earth’s Moon Virgil had ever set foot on.

“There it is.” Alan, ever enthusiastic in his element, pointed out a spot quickly growing on the display. “Callisto Base.”

It was a white cross with a massive airlock at its centre. Surrounding the arms of the cross was machinery, storage tanks and energy production facilities. It shone ever so bright, like a blunted star plastered on the side of the moon.

As they drew closer, the Tracy Industries logo could be seen branded across the airlock doors.

The base was a massive endeavour. Almost entirely underground taking advantage of a small crater in the Doh crater wall, it had capped the landform and sealed off the space creating a series of caverns to house the transport ships moving between the Base and the Jefferson or any other destination they chose.

Entirely self-sufficient, TI’s hydrogen technology gave it power, TI’s heavy duty excavation equipment gave them the power to dig the base out of the rock and ice. It had helped to find unexpected caves under the surface. All and all the Base was a robust structure, protecting its fifty-odd inhabitants from the hazards of living on an exposed and radiated moon.

“Callisto Base, Thunderbird Three requesting permission to dock.” Virgil was suddenly irrationally proud of his little brother.

Commander Walters answered immediately. “Permission granted Thunderbird Three. Hold in the airlock for repressurisation and permission to proceed.”

“FAB, Callisto Base.”

“One of these days, Jeff, you are going to tell me what that means.”

Both Alan and their father snorted.

As they approached, the big airlock doors slowly began to open, splitting the TI logo in half. The hologram stayed fixed on their destination, but Three pivoted her nose to the darkness of the sky bringing the ever-hovering presence of Jupiter back into view through Three’s windows. Alan flicked a wrist and the Thunderbird started lowering into what was now a gaping maw below.

Three slipped into the airlock and the doors closed behind them.

-o-o-o-

Alan was a professional, but he had to admit that he was internally bouncing around in joy. The air was still thick with tension, his family caught up in this thing with Dad, but Alan was doing his best to ignore it and focus on his job.

And oh my god, he was landing on his second moon of Jupiter! This had to be a first. He could go down in history as the first person to land on several moons, another planet and multiple random comets and asteroids.

Okay, so Virg and Scott had been with him, even Gordon on Europa – that had been one hell of a mission that still gave him both dreams and nightmares – but he had been the only one to land on all of them.

Alan Tracy, astronaut extraordinaire. He couldn’t help but grin as the airlock repressurised and the Callisto Commander finally gave him permission to land.

He slowed his ‘bird to a perfect touchdown as the secondary airlock doors closed above him.

He killed her engines and let her begin her cool down sequence.

The whole cockpit sighed a little in relief. A pause as if to reset and then everyone was moving.

-o-o-o-

Gray Walters rubbed the back of his neck as Thunderbird Three coasted smoothly from the decontaminating airlock into the main hangar. The pilot of that ‘bird had to be a Tracy. The huge red rocket barely fit nose to tail with only inches to spare between the two massive sets of doors. After all, they had never expected such a large craft needing to dock.

He had Kate to thank for arguing the hangar’s size...with Ju backing her up as usual.

The thought of his wife froze him for a split second. Ju was going to be okay. Jeff was here now. He had always been their good luck charm. Hell, the guy had survived eight years in space alone. Ju could manage a few days.

Couldn’t she?

“She’s docked.” Mary, his second, looked up from her station. “Shall I shunt her into a bay?”

“Leave her in central for now. We’re not going anywhere and they may need to leave in a hurry.”

“That will piss Benji off.”

“Benji can stew. His team still has a week left of their Jefferson rotation.”

“He will cite regs.”

Gray turned away. Let him cite regs. “This is an emergency and takes priority.” He sighed. “Run decon in the central core. Anyone not crucial to this operation is to steer clear of International Rescue. Lock off environmental systems. Keep the two crews contained to keep the risk of contamination as low as possible. We can’t afford an accidental bug in the system.”

“Will do.” She paused before bringing up the topic he knew she would. “What about Jeremiah?”

“What about him?”

“You need to tell them.”

“One thing at a time, Mary.”

“But-“

“First we find Kate and Ju.” He swallowed. They had to find Ju.

They had to.

-o-o-o-

Stepping onto a new world was never as grand as it appeared. Hell, landing on Mars for the first time had been a trip over his own toes’ moment.

Stepping onto Callisto was no different.

It was Scott who grabbed him before he could flip head over heels across the gantry. Changes in gravity always took time to get used to and less than twenty-four hours ago, it had been Earth oppressive.

Callisto gravity was a relief…if a little disorientating.

His eldest’s strong grip wrapped around his arm and held tight. Jeff looked over at Scott and was pinned with such worried bright blue eyes that his heart clenched.

All the tension, the argument, the resistance to his presence on this mission boiled down to the emotion in those eyes.

Love.

And fear.

Scott was terrified.

Jeff did it without thought or care for what anyone would think. He grabbed his son and yanked him into a hug, holding him close. The squawk across comms and the scrape of their helmets against each other did nothing to stop him.

“I’m sorry, son.”

“Uh...”

Scott’s arms wrapped around him, ever so hesitantly.

That hesitation hurt almost as much.

He clung that much tighter.

“Dad?” It was breathless.

He clung a second longer, but… Yes...right.

It was a moment stolen.

Because they were on a mission.

Jeff let Scott go.

His son pulled away slowly, not quite fully releasing him, and again those blue eyes were fixated on him in worry.

So much worry.

“You okay, Dad?”

Jeff straightened with more ease than he had managed in a long time and became aware of all the other eyes on him.

The ever-present echoes of Lucille’s beautiful brown eyes were assessing him. That was a given. But another two pairs of blue and a frowning fishy amber had him targeted as well.

He looked at each of them before turning back to the massive cavern around them. A mix of rock wall, structural support and storage, the docking cavern was lit with strong lighting, the red of Three reflecting on patches of frozen water embedded in the walls.

They were standing on a walkway that had been extended out to Three’s hatch. It was obviously of variable height and length and Jeff couldn’t help but admire the design.

He wondered who was responsible.

He wondered if it was Kate.

Her green eyes smiled at him at the back of his mind.

His lips pressed together as his sons and brother-in-law continued to shoot concerned expressions in his direction.

A breath.

“Let’s do this.” And he led them out and into Callisto Base.

-o-o-o-

Next

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Alan Tracy #Jeff Tracy #John Tracy #the mechanic #callisto #Gordon Tracy

[laf-outloud]

I’m the anon whose cousin is a destiel shipper.

Thank you so much for answering. Wow, this situation is way more complicated than I thought. It’s terrible that people have received hate because of it. And I honestly don’t mind people who ship as long as they are respectful about it - As a matter of fact, my cousin ship Kara and Lena on Supergirl, but she has never been this agitated about it and has never tried to make me ship it too.

So if I understand you right, destiel is not real - Dean is not in love with Cas - but Cas is thought to be in love with Dean because the actor said so? Has anyone on the show commented on Cas’s sexuality? Because it’s strange that one actor can claim something like that if it isn’t true. I will look into Misha Collins’s behavior because my cousin follows him on twitter, and if what you say is true I don’t want her to blindly listen to him.

And to answer your question about my cousin and I; we’re not super close but she 16 and looks up to me, so I feel responsible when she’s upset, especially if it’s about her sexuality. I just wanted to know if I was the one who misunderstood something and destiel is real. I won’t say that she is wrong, but I will try and make her understand that it’s okay to interpret things differently and she should respect other people’s opinions. And that her time is better spent on LGBTQIA+ right issues in other media or off screen.

I would also like for her to stay out of that side of tumblr and twitter since it seems like a toxic “echo chamber” but I feel like it’s not really for me to say - I have to talk to my aunt about this, should be fun. So much fuss for a tv show…

You're welcome! I am also fine with people shipping Destiel in fanon, but like you said, respectfully.

And yes, you read that right. Destiel is not real. The only person involved in the show pushing that narrative is Misha and he's doing it in a way that he can claim deniability if pressed. None of the writers/producers/other actors/or anyone else involved in the show have ever confirmed it's existence. x Hellers often point to subtextual clues that only they can see... micro expressions in the actor's faces, the color of Dean's shirt in a scene with Cas that equates to the colors of the Bisexual flag, or, one of my new favorites, the way Dean laid down on a table to relax. x

As for the rest of Misha's behavior, I'm going to refer you to this master blog post with many examples of how problematic he is x. It does not include his most recent troubling behavior on TikTok x (a site populated with young teenagers). I know it's a lot, but hopefully some of it will help your Aunt guide your cousin to some more age appropriate alternatives.

I'm glad to hear that your a mentor to your cousin. It's a great role to have! I'm not very involved in the LGBTQ+ community, though some would say I'm Ace or Aro (I think that's right). I've sent out a post asking other bloggers if there are LGBTQ+ blogs that would be good for her to follow.

Echo chamber!!! That's the word I was looking for! And yes, the Destiheller side is very much an echo chamber. If you want to send me a direct message (DM - little smiley face comment icon on the upper-right), there are a few twitter accounts I would recommend that your aunt block for your cousin using parental controls. These are the extreme of the extreme hellers and can be damaging to young minds.

Now, I know all of this drama seems odd for a tv show, I'll agree, it is. I think part of the problem is that fans were able to attend conventions and had much greater access to the show's creators and actors so they felt a part of it. Then, the term SPNFamily was coined and the fandom became a family, of sorts (including all the Thanksgiving Day drama). That's not to say there aren't great people in the SPN Fandom. I would say 95% of them are, otherwise we wouldn't be here, but it's important to ensure content is consumed in a responsible manner and communication with others who disagree with you is respectful.

Anyway, if you want to DM me, I can get you those Twitter Accounts as well as any recommended Tumblr blogs. I'll keep your information private.

#anti destihellers #anon ask #resources for teens #anti misha

[ethanlivemere]

Half-Life²: Anticitizen - Chapter 3

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

_____________________

Chapter 3

Trespass

The true citizen knows that duty is the greatest gift.

The true citizen conserves valuable oxygen.

The true citizen cooperates with his Civil Protection team.

The true citizen’s job is the opposite of slavery.

The Consul’s brief messages echo across the pavement, each one followed by a hollow chime. It has an almost hypnotic effect, as I find myself staring up at the cluster of screens hanging over the intersection. It’s an Orwellian sight to behold: the citizens going about their day while the Consul’s watchful gaze looks down from above.

The true citizen embraces the Universal Union.

I think back to my encounter with the Vortigaunt. It had been a shock to hear English words coming from the mouth of the alien. Its voice was guttural and rough, and it continually made insect-like hissing and clicking sounds, but it spoke English nonetheless. Quite eloquently, even. Vastly different from Black Mesa, where the hisses and clicks had been the only components of their communication. But perhaps the bigger shock in seeing the Vortigaunt was not what it said, but the way it spoke to me. Like I hadn’t killed dozens of its kind in Black Mesa after seeing them slaughter my coworkers. After such hostility, I expected this Vortigaunt to charge up a bolt of green energy and attack me, and my instincts wanted me to reach for a weapon I didn’t have. The last thing I expected was for it to greet me as an ally.

“Your presence gives us hope, Freeman,” it had said. “As you saved my kin in the border world, so shall you save us again on this miserable rock. For now that the lesser master lay defeated, the greater must also fall in time.” Ah, so that’s how it is, I thought. When I killed the Nihilanth, I freed the Vortigaunts from their enslaver, and now they expected me to do the same once more. I remembered the slave camps and factories on Xen, where, for just a brief moment, they didn’t attack me – until the Nihilanth’s Controllers arrived and forced them to fight. They must have realized I was their one hope for freedom. A freedom which, ultimately, was very short-lived.

The Vortigaunt then walked to the contraption that held another one of its kind in its dark liquid. It placed its two-fingered hand against the glass and, despite its alien features, I could see sadness fall across its face. “The Vorti-cells drain power from my kin to support the Combine’s machinery. Those who enter them seldom emerge. The few who do are weakened almost to the point of collapse. Truly, it is a fate far worse than the shackles I bear.” The shackles were different from the ones worn by the Nihilanth-enslaved Vortigaunts. Instead of shining green, they were a dull gray. Their design remained very similar, though. Wrist bracelets, a collar, but also a sort of codpiece that I didn’t remember seeing on the Nihilanth’s slaves. Apparently the Combine deemed it necessary to cover the Vortigaunts’ loins – even though they housed no visible organs of any kind.

The Vortigaunt proceeded to grab a broom from against the wall and told me it had to resume its duty or suffer punishment. It seemed rather ironic, almost comedic even, that an alien race powerful enough to power factories was also being employed to sweep the streets. Recalling the instructions Jeremy had given me, I asked the Vortigaunt if he knew how I could get to the Manhack Arcade, where Barney was supposed to meet me. “Ah,” he responded pensively. “The Manhack Arcade. The hall of the unwitting executioners.” He proceeded to give me clear directions. I was to go to a place he called the Stenographer’s Chasm and then continue in a straight line. I wondered what he meant by ‘unwitting executioners’, but before I knew it, he had already said his goodbyes and disappeared around the corner.

The strange encounter had left me confused and a bit shaken, but I resolutely continued my journey and followed the Vortigaunt’s directions. I had a hard time imagining what this ‘Stenographer’s Chasm’ could be, but I could never have imagined what it turned out to be. An enormous, Combine-modified warehouse consisting of one long room that extended far into the ground, filled with rows of workers perched on stools behind desks, frantically typing on typewriter-like machines. But the stools and desks weren’t on the ground: they were mounted onto single, suspended rails that ran across the room. There were multiple levels of these rails and desks reaching all the way to the ceiling and down into the chasm. The workers had nowhere to go. My guess was that at the end of their shift or when their quota was fulfilled, the rails transported them to a place where they could safely dismount their stools. Until then, they could do nothing but work. I didn’t know what it was they were doing. What kind of paperwork could the Combine have? They didn’t seem like the type to bother with those kinds of things too much. Then again, an intergalactic empire is bound to have some unavoidable paperwork. Probably keeping track of resources and the like.

More disturbing sights awaited me, though. It all began at a building that produced a continuous sound of whirring and chugging, like a giant steam engine. Looking through the window, I saw a black and white tiled hall that was filled with enormous, diagonal pistons moving back and forth. At their base, people were working on the large engines that seemed to drive the pistons. I then realized that the engines weren’t just large, the figures knelt at their base were also small… they were children. Children, no older than twelve, were working on heavy machinery under the watch of Metrocops. And that wasn’t the only factory where children were being forced into labor. A bit further down the street was a smaller brick building that housed a large furnace. More children were stationed at a conveyor belt that lead into the furnace. They took white, ellipsoid objects from barrels and placed them onto the conveyor. They weren’t being burned in the furnace: they reemerged out of the side, attached to the ends of poles, and were transported into another machine. I had seen the white objects before on the brown-robed, flamethrower-wielding beings in the station and on posters that Jeremy had referred to as ‘Cremators’. These were Cremator heads. I tore myself away from the windows and continued my way through the industrial area. I never looked through another window again.

The factories eventually made way for a busier commercial district, which is where I find myself now. It’s the busiest place I’ve seen in this city, apart from the military parade. This must once have been a street with many successful shops, but now most of the display windows stand empty. One of the buildings still in use houses the same ration dispensers I also saw in the station. Another one showcases multiple television screens, all of which display the Combine logo.

“Can you believe it? Free TVs!” says a citizen gazing through the window.

“Don’t get too excited,” his companion replies in a cynical tone. “Those things only have one channel: the Consulcast.” He points over his shoulder at the cluster of screens overhead, where the Consul’s many faces are still naming the values of a true citizen.

But the Consulcast nor the free TVs are the reason why there is so much traffic on this street corner. In fact, I’d wager the Combine strategically placed those here so that as many citizens as possible would be exposed to the propaganda. The real eye-catcher everyone seems to be here for is across the street: the Manhack Arcade. It’s a large building that forms the corner of the street. Completely Combine-made, no recycling of old buildings. The people in the street flock towards the wide entrance on the corner, which is flanked by two Metrocops. Above it hang a number of yellow posters and banners and even more screens, all showing Combine logos and imagery.

I wonder if I should go in. Jeremy told me Barney would meet me at the Manhack Arcade, but it’s unclear if that means outside or inside. It seem risky going into a Combine facility, but it doesn’t seem like the citizens get scanned like they did at the checkpoints, and I could probably slip by the two guarding Metrocops unnoticed by hiding in the crowd.

I wait a little longer, hoping Barney will show himself. The clouds have gotten darker still, and before long a light drizzle starts pouring from the sky. Not only am I not dressed for rainy weather, I also want to avoid getting into too much contact with this water, which, judging from the greenish color of the clouds it originates from, could have all kinds of toxins or undesirable pH values. And so, when an exceptionally dense group of people approaches the entrance to the Arcade, I join them and walk past the Metrocops without either of them giving me a second glance.

Inside is a corridor that leads to the main room. Like the Stenographer’s Chasm, it’s long, tall, and extends down into the ground. Instead of rails with desks and tired workers, this room is filled with catwalks leading to strange machines. Citizens queue in front of them and when it’s their turn, they step onto a pedestal in front of the machines, grab hold of two control handles and lean forward to place their heads in some sort of virtual reality display built into the arcade.

A screen above the player allows bystanders to follow the game. A citizen near me has just started: at first, the screen shows only a grid of red lines in a black void. Then, the grid bends and reshapes itself into a three-dimensional environment that resembles a ruined building. Several humanoid shapes appear in yellow and orange tints, like heat vision, but with a clear red outline to them. The player navigates the environment, seemingly flying, and moves towards the outlined targets. The targets start moving around, trying to evade the player, but eventually he catches up to one. It’s not clear what happens, but when the player bumps into the target, the red outline disappears and a score of one hundred appears in the bottom right corner of the screen. “Ha ha, got one!” the player exclaims. Another nearby player is already at a score of eight hundred, when one of the targets suddenly rushes at him, holding up some kind of long object. The screen goes black and the words ‘GAME OVER’ appear on the screen. “Damn it!” the man shouts. “I was almost at my high score!”

Something’s not right. The way the targets move – it doesn’t look like a video game character. Much too erratic and lifelike. And from what I’ve seen of the Combine so far, I doubt they would put effort into providing ground-breaking AI technology for their panem et circenses. The Vortigaunt’s words echo through my mind: ‘the hall of the unwitting executioners’. I can put two and two together, but I don’t want to. I refuse to believe that what I fear is true. People slaughtering their own, cheering while they do it – and without ever realizing what they did. Or, at least, I deeply hope they don’t.

I don’t want to stay here any longer. Watching these innocent people enjoying the Combine’s twisted games turns my stomach. I have to find Barney. But how can I simultaneously hide from the real Metrocops and try to get Barney to see me?

As I pace through the room, I notice a Metrocop eyeing me. It’s hard to tell with the gas masks, but it seems like his gaze is following me. Is he Barney or a suspicious guard? I try to act inconspicuous and wait for a signal. Suddenly, the Metrocop turns away and walks towards a door. He interacts with the locking mechanism and it opens before him. He throws another prolonged glance in my direction before stepping through, out of sight. I wait. The door doesn’t close behind him. I cautiously make my way to the door. It leads to some sort of backstage corridor, clearly a ‘staff only’ area. I can’t see the Metrocop. I look around the Arcade one last time, but none of the remaining guards seem to notice me, so I enter the corridor. It’s cold and dark, and my footsteps are loud on the metal floor. I arrive in a small room with one of those Combine consoles. The wall is lined with a rack containing dozens of small, deactivated drones whose purpose I can’t discern. I hear the door I entered through close.

“Hey, you!” I hear from one of the neighboring corridors. A Metrocop – the one I followed in here – enters the room. “Do you have your identification?” He menacingly steps towards me. Seems it wasn’t Barney after all. Tough luck. “You are not supposed to be in here. I need to see your identification.”

Well, I seem to have gotten myself into a sticky situation. The Metrocop is trying to drive me into a corner, drawing his stun baton. “Overwatch, restricted incursion in progress in sector 8. Permission to enact civil judgement?” he says to seemingly no one. There’s a short blip and a burst of static following his question. I’m not thrilled about the prospect of ‘civil judgement’, so I decide not to wait until he gets his answer from whoever Overwatch is. I place my hands on my head, feigning surrender, while I scan the exits. The corridor back to the main Arcade hall is sealed and I can’t tell where the others lead, so I’ll have to trust my instincts.

Either the Metrocop has received his permission from Overwatch, or my eyes darting around the room have made him suspicious, because he suddenly swings his stun stick at my head. I try to duck and the blow lands against my elbow, sending a shock through my entire arm as blue sparks fly from the weapon. In response, I kick at his shin as hard as I can. He grunts and loses his balance, and I take the opportunity to dart down the nearest corridor. I hear the Metrocop’s heavy boots give chase behind me as he mumbles a status report to Overwatch. I round a corner, praying I won’t run into a dead end. I see a T junction ahead. Suddenly, I hear a deafening bang behind me, and the sound of a bullet hitting metal. Damn. He has a gun. I have to reach the junction as fast as possible. No time to look which way to go. As the echo of the gunshot fades out, I speed off into the left corridor just before another bullet plunges itself into the wall.

Suddenly, my surroundings open up into a larger room that’s two thirds Combine architecture and one third concrete rubble, remainders of whatever building was here before they installed their Arcade. I could get out through the collapsed walls and floors, but I’d be an easy shot. There’s also what looks like a Combine elevator with a bright red button inside it. I have milliseconds to make a decision. How far behind is he? Can I pull it off?

I slam my fist into the red button, rush back out of the elevator and then dive behind a half-collapsed wall. The doors close and the elevator starts to rise as I flatten myself against the concrete, bent rebar poking into my shoulder. My left arm is numb from the shock of the baton. I hear the Metrocop charging into the room. I hold my breath and pray he falls for my trick. It’s a trick as old as time. He stands still and I wait, my heartbeat ear-deafening.

“Subject is headed for top floor, secure perimeter around elevator.” I have to keep myself from sighing in relief. He isn’t gone yet. In fact, he seems to just stand still in front of the elevator. He must be waiting for the elevator to reach its destination. If he waits for the top floor units to report an empty elevator, my cover is blown.

“Copy,” he says. My functional right hand grabs hold of a loose chunk of concrete near me. I hear him walk a few steps, and then a couple of beeps. “Elevator power disengaged. Heading to your location.” With that, he walks out of the room, and I can finally breathe again. They don’t know the elevator is empty yet. They think they have me trapped in an unpowered elevator. Now to finally get out of here.

Easier said than done, as it turns out. The ruins are a concrete maze, and I constantly have to watch my step. It doesn’t help that the rain that seeps down through the broken ceilings makes everything slippery. The downpour has changed into an outright storm: the water beats down loudly on the concrete and every now and then a roaring thunderclap tears through the sky. Meanwhile, I guess the Metrocops discovered I wasn’t in the elevator after all, because I suddenly hear the cold, disembodied female voice – Overwatch, I assume – echo through the air once more: “Individual, you are charged with anti-civil activities: 63 criminal trespass, 148 resisting arrest, 243 assault on Protection Team. All local Protection units: code alert: locate, contain, prosecute.”

I spot one of the lambdas painted by the resistance group on a pillar. It leads the way down a slope of collapsed floor into a sub-street level area. Knowing the Metrocops are looking for me again, I try to speed up my pace a little while heading down – a mistake. The wet rubble gives way and I lose my footing. The world spins around me as I slide and tumble down the slope. I try to shield my head with my arms. I roll over the floor after reaching the bottom before coming to a stop.

I lie on my back as my surroundings come back into focus. I’m in some sort of underground sewer chamber: I see a ladder on the wall leading up to a manhole cover and there’s a grate in the ceiling through which light and rain pours down in a small waterfall, though the ground I lie on is thankfully dry. I do a quick damage report: my palms are chafed and I’ll undoubtedly have a few bruises, but no lasting damage. I’m lucky I didn’t hit my head on any of the protruding edges of the concrete.

I become aware of a sound, just barely audible over the storm. It sounds like a fire – no, more like a flamethrower. At the same moment, I notice the dancing orange light on the brick wall, and my nostrils are assaulted with the stench of burning flesh. I immediately jolt up. Pain shoots through my back at the sudden movement. I look around and immediately spot the source of the sound: there’s a Cremator standing on the opposite side of the room. The two lanky, leathery-skinned arms sticking out of its brown robe carry a heavy flamethrower which, I notice for the first time seeing one up close, is connected to a spherical fuel tank in the middle of its stomach with a thin tube. ‘Flamethrower’ might be an incorrect word, however. Instead of producing flames, it shoots the green particle jets I also noticed being used to clean trains in the station. It must be some sort of corrosive liquid that only affects organic matter. The source of the orange light on the walls turns out to be a burning pile of charred flesh being sprayed by the Cremator. The flesh is being set ablaze by the green particles, but not only that: where the jets hit the flesh directly, it seems to blacken and disintegrate. Despite the fact that the corpses have turned black as coal and have been turned into an amorphous, ever-shrinking pile, I can still make out just enough to see that these were once people.

The Cremator stops what it’s doing and turns its white, oval head towards me, alerted by my sudden movement. Its tiny, expressionless eyes lock onto me. I hear mechanical breathing from the Cremator’s mouth-tube as it steps closer. It tilts its head like a curious animal before it points the nozzle of its weapon towards me. I could try to run, but I doubt I could get far enough to evade the scorching cloud. I briefly wonder if I should not have moved an played dead. It probably wouldn’t have saved me from being disintegrated.

“Cremator! Stand down!” A Metrocop charges in and stands between me and the Cremator. “This prisoner is property of Civil Protection and is to be transferred to Nova Prospekt for processing.” The Cremator tilts its head again, then turns around and returns to its previous work. The Metrocop turns around to face me. I should be worried, but I’m not. Despite its distortion, I have already recognized his voice. I once again hear the click of the mask detaching and am greeted by Barney’s smug grin. I’ve never been happier to see that stupid grin.

“So Gordon, is this what you call ‘not drawing any attention to yourself’? You’ve got practically every Metrocop in the sector looking for you!” He reaches out and grabs my arm to pull me onto my feet. The numbness from the stun baton is almost gone, though it now hurts from the fall instead. As I rub my elbow, I glance at the Cremator. It seems to be minding its own business, but I don’t feel comfortable hanging around near it much longer, and I wonder if it’s a good idea for Barney to unmask himself and be so friendly with me in its presence. Barney follows my gaze and says “Don’t worry about him, he won’t bother us again. They’re not too bright, these Cremators. Mindless synths. They were made to be janitors, primarily. Destroy biological waste, contain the Xen infestation…” He looks down at the charred corpses grimly. “… clean up after the Civil Protection patrols.” He beckons me and starts walking. “The reason he was about to disintegrate you is because you are not a registered citizen or Combine unit. So to him, you would have to be either a Xenian creature or a very lively corpse. Either way, you were considered ‘unauthorized biological mass’ and had to be disposed of.”

We enter an underground utility tunnel. The sounds of the storm fade away as we follow the cables and pipelines down the dimly lit corridor. “You’re lucky I found you,” Barney remarks. “Those Immolators of theirs can give you a nasty burn. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you at the Arcade, I was held up by unforeseen complications on my shift. I had just gotten back to Dr. Kleiner’s lab when I heard the local CP units go crazy over some guy causing trouble at the Arcade.” He flashes me a smirk. I tell him what happened at the Arcade, with the Metrocop I had thought was him. “You got baited,” he replies. “Some CPs will bait citizens into breaking rules, like trespassing, just so they can enact some civil judgement.”

We march through the underground network in silence for a while before I cautiously bring up Jeremy. Barney sighs sadly and lightly shakes his head. “Yeah, I heard what happened.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly choosing his next words carefully. “Listen, Gordon… don’t worry about it, okay? I can probably pull some strings to make sure he turns out okay.” He doesn’t sound all that certain. “Either way, don’t blame yourself. Each of us knows the risk in what we’re doing. We’re all prepared to... go all the way for our cause.” I get an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Barney is being uncharacteristically serious and grim. This is not the same man I knew before Black Mesa. Then again, the same goes for myself.

His face lightens up again and he slips back into his usual grin when we go down a side tunnel with another lambda, at the end of which is a short staircase with a metal door. “Well Gordon, looks like we’re finally here.” He opens the door and the sound of machinery pours out. Not harsh, loud and aggressive, like the Combine factories, but light beeps and clicks over a soft hum. A familiar sound that invites me inside. The sound of science.

_____________________

Consul screens

Stenographer's Chasm

Piston hall

Cremator factory

Manhack Arcade exterior + Citadel

Manhack Arcade interior

Cremator

Underground

And for the first time, there aren't just images for reference, but also sound: here is the original Vortigaunt voice.

As always, really excited to share this new chapter of Anticitizen with you. We've finally reached Kleiner's lab, so from now the story will start picking up pace. And as always, please let me know what you think :)

#anticitizen #half life #half life 2 #half life 2 beta #my writing #fanfiction #gordon freeman

[docholligay]

In The Desert

My second of three eventual Passover fics, finally done, if literally nothing else. 4,500ish words, and I hope you enjoy it at least somewhat! 

Moses never saw the Promised Land. He guided others to it, but he died before he ever set foot in that promised space, before he ever was allowed to know the feeling of safety and peace and home. To reach the goal he had longed for. 

Mercy tried not to think too much on this, and told herself often that the Promised Land was only a place, and maybe it was Moses’ short-sightedness that did not allow him to see that the Promised Land was had while he wandered, in the arms of his wife, in the giggles of Jewish children knowing what it was to grow up free, in knowing that he had guided his people to something far more frightening but far greater. To inspire them to live a life of uncertainty, with great risk, but great reward. The Promised Land was where you found it, Mercy would say, often. 

Sometimes she even believed it. This year was harder. 

Was he ever resentful, she wondered, absent-mindedly setting the low table, for the punishment? That for one moment, he reacted in anger and bitterness instead of in patience and grace, that he lashed out, and so was barred from the doors of promise forever? Mercy thought on these things, and her own trespass against God, wondering which had kept her wandering all these years, without the promise she had so hoped for. 

Sitting in Canada with her small second Overwatch, the way forward had seemed so simple. She had escaped the bondage of loneliness, and now there was only to keep going, to increase that family around her, to grow in love, even to hope for that thing she had imagined might be lost to her for so long, something she hadn’t dared hope for. She loved her Overwatch family. She loved her wife. She loved for a child. Now she could see it all growing further away, a golden land that she, like Moses, would only ever see others enter. 

Tears filled her eyes as she considered it, blurring the fork she set down on the table. The day was rainy and cold, even for the general London April, and it went all the way through her, darkening and covering any warm space she may have been able to find within herself. 

It was a year of failures. The same ones, over and over again, of bodies as quarrelsome and betraying as the Israelites, of ground being lost and joy being further and further away. This was meant to be a day of celebration, of freedom, but it all felt so empty, the freedom of a stray dog without home or comfort. 

There was a knock at the door, and Mercy stood up straight, adjusting her sweater and tucking her hair behind her ears. There was no reason to ruin the day for everyone else, even if she could not find the joy for herself. When one is happy, it is easier to serve God and your community, she had read, from some rabbi, somewhere, and she did not deny that this was true. 

Why then, had God denied her so much? 

“Ang!” There was a bright, high peal through the entryway as Tracer sat on the small chair next to the door, taking off her shoes slowly, “Sorry, took us a bit--” 

“We’re on time, Lena.” Emily smiled as she hung up her jacket. 

“Oh. Right then, me planning is as bang on as ever,” She laughed merrily, “Entirely didn’t assume I’d missed the mark, exacting as I am.” 

“You’re early.” Mercy touched at the edge of the couch. 

“Someone tell Fareeha, she’ll want to note this in the official Overwatch ‘istory.” 

Emily took her shoes from her and set them in the rack. “She’ll only be telling you you’ve no excuse hereafter.” 

Tracer shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Bloody fucked every which way, I am.” 

Yes, Mercy’s mind answered, you are. 

 It’s clearly degenerative and aggressive, whatever got set off. The seizures will get harder to treat, and the tremor, not to mention we have about a whack-a-mole’s guess at what it’ll start going after next. I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t think it’ll affect her cognition, luckily. Or unluckily, I guess...

She heard Pradeep’s voice echoing in her mind, and did her best to shake it off. She hadn’t given up yet. Things weren’t so bad that they could give up yet. There was still a chance, however small, wasn’t there? Even if they could just arrest it, just stop it where it was--her eyes flickered to the brightly colored cane Tracer’s hand reached for, more commonly carried than not now--she could live out the rest of her life in relative happiness. She could see it, in her mind’s eye. That golden strip of promise just beyond the horizon. 

But she hadn’t been able to touch it, no matter how many specialists she bullied into consulting with her. No matter how many papers she read. No matter how long she walked and how fervently she prayed. 

“Ang?” she looked up, and realized that Tracer was now standing in front of her, a puzzled look on her face. “You alright, love?” 

Mercy shook her head. “Of course, only I am lost in my mind. Tired, I think.” 

Tracer looked at her for a moment in that sharp way she had, eyes flitting like a hummingbird across Mercy’s face, but she was saved by a knock at the door, and the further entrance of Dva and Winston, chatting amiably as Winston carefully sidled into the apartment, McCree a short but meaningful distance behind them. 

There they were, an assembled party, still crossing the long desert, signs of promise beginning to pop up around them. Since the battle for London, the world had taken a different view of them, an altogether kinder one. Pharah had her office building, constructed where she had always hoped. McCree had gotten a pardon from Interpol itself. Tracer had been offered damehood, which she had rather aggressively rejected, and the Victoria Cross, which she had aggressively accepted. All of them where heroes worldwide, their work seen for the long journey it had been, and honored. Mercy should have every reason to be pleased. 

Professionally, her life had never been better, or the way more clear. 

“Angela,” her wife’s voice pulled her out of the thought, “the family, I think, is assembled.” 

She said it with a half-smile as she looked over to the strange assembly that filled the room. Mercy nodded, and watched as Pharah walked over to the table she had built with her own hands, in the center of the living room. There was a bubbling sort of excitement among all of them, and why wouldn’t there be? It was the first Passover in Pharah and Mercy’s new apartment, the one built on the bones of the old. Life had been destroyed and life had been rebuilt into something more suited for them, something better. Renewal. Hope. Mercy could see it all, and reminded herself of it, as Pharah playfully bickered with Tracer before grabbing her by the armpits and thumping her to the floor, back up against the couch. The rest of them settled in their own spots, on the floor, looking over to Mercy from time to time. 

A perfect Seder, with the people she loved, and yet her eyes wandered to the corner next to her seat, the one she hadn’t even realized she had left clear. There should have been something, someone, there this year. She had prayed for it, she had pleaded for it, she had given and fasted and hoped for it. And yet the corner stood empty. The promise was for other people. 

”It’s not surprising given your advanced maternal age,” she said it gently, but Mercy still winced, “and...some of what you’ve been through.” 

Mercy was not now, and had never been, ignorant of certain medical realities. Her entire life since she was a child, had been the understanding of such things, and the painful knowledge that very often what we wish was true directly contradicted what was on the chart. The doctor kept talking, and Pharah squeezed her hand. 

Pharah. She’d offered to be the one to carry a child, despite it not being her immediate inclination. Mercy had never been able to find the words to tell her that she needed to be the one to do it. That she had lost her entire family all those years ago, and needed to be related to one other person on this earth, and to know that. Even she didn’t understand it completely, only knew that it had driven her onward. Only knew it kept her coming back to this office to be told that the best they could do was keep going. 

The best she could do was ignore the chart. 

She should have filled that corner with something other than her own empty hopes. She blinked back the bitter saltwater of her own affliction, and began to walk toward the table. 

“Pesach is a story of the impossible,” she sat herself down next to Pharah, but just kept staring at the Seder plate in the middle of the table, “We were slaves. We could not be bringing forth our own freedom. Only God could do that, and there was no reason to believe he would be doing it at all. We had been in bondage for so long. There was no reason to believe God would be giving us the Torah. There was no reason...to believe that we would be here. No reason there should be any Jews left at all.” 

Mercy wished one of them would stop her, that one of them would recognize the ramble for what it was was. Mercy barely understood it herself, and anger touched the edge of her mind as she considered all the things God had done but also all the things that he had chosen not to do. He had chosen to allow the Holocaust, and where had their deliverer been? He had allowed the Jews to be blamed and pilloried for the failings of AI technology, in both the fringes and, more quietly, in the larger community. He had allowed them to be shot while they worshipped, or bought groceries, or simply lived their lives. He had allowed Mercy to hear every suspicion and cruelty of the others in the labs and offices, who could not imagine the blonde, blue-eyed woman next to them could possibly take offense. And then, he had allowed Mercy’s house to be bombed, twice in her life, he had allowed her wife to be tortured, he had allowed Tracer to suffer, and he had allowed Mercy to remain childless.

“Why.” 

The fifth question, left out of the Haggadah. 

She looked around the table at them. 

“Why did he save us? And then, sometimes, why did he not? I--” she shook her head, “am never understanding the reasons. Why. I am only always asking. Why.” 

It was a why to God, for certain, for all the things she thought but good not bring herself to say, but a why to herself as well. Why had she stayed? Why did she pray every morning, why did she say Shema before she laid down at night? Mercy would have been the first to say that it wasn’t about God, but also she could not have answered what it was about at all. What did she find in her prayers and her study, knowing so keenly that God would not hear her, had not heard her cry for years? 

Perhaps that was what drew the Jewish people together--knowing God will not listen, and saying the prayer anyhow. Knowing that to be a Jew was to live in danger, and to wander, but refusing to be anything else. To never stop asking, no matter how silent God became. 

Even David, knowing God would punish him with the death of his child, had kept pleading, and fasting, and praying, to the very end. There had always been the chance God would turn back. 

“We’re outmanned, outgunned, and those things can keep coming--” 

“Didn’t say we was going to win did I?” Tracer’s eyes narrowed and her voice raised, pulling the attention of the room back to her. “Said we was going to fight.” 

She looked out over the tightly assembled group packed into the room. 

“Some of us will die today. Likely a good number of us. ‘E’s right you know. There’s no reason to believe we can take the advantage over them. Every reason to believe that London is going to be nothing but a pile of rubble and fires at the fag end of it all. But I,” She thrust her finger into her chest, “am not going to give over this city bloody quietly. It’s a part of me, innit? And we’re a part of it. Can’t untie the Oxtons and England, and I don’t mean the bloody Crown, and I don’t mean the bloody government, I mean England.” 

Tracer paced across the top of the bar. “I am fighting for England, and for London, and what that is, is every kid running out the schoolyard, every pissed stumble ‘ome, every day of our lives, THAT is London. And England. We are London. We are England. Not anything or anyone official. Not Parliament. Not the fucking royals. You and me, and your dad, and mum, and this grotty little pub, and me footie team, and the greengrocer down the way, and Alfie’s flower stall, THAT is England, and I won’t let anyone, or anything, take this place I love, while I still draw a breath in this world. I won’t ever surrender. East End gets flattened, East End gets the worst of it, but we don’t roll over and give it up. We never ‘ave.”

She stopped for a moment, then nodded. “And I won’t start now. I can’t win, maybe. But I guarantee you, I can give them the worst day of their lives, and even if they stomp over these streets, they’ll remember my name. That’s what we’re fighting for. Not because we can win. Because we fight for what we are. 

Mercy gave a weak chuckle and shook her head. “We are telling this story not to answer these questions, but to keep asking them. We are telling it, to give our own answers. God--” her voice caught, barely believing herself in that moment, “--God is revealing himself, in us, all the time. We, we are God’s hands, and God’s eyes, and...his words, when we remember. When we can be seeing the midrash in our lives.”

She took a deep breath. 

“Tonight we remember that we are free. Tonight we remember the things that make us slaves.” 

____

The smell of brisket filled the air. Pharah’s timing had become more and more impeccable over the years, throwing herself into the celebration of Passover, a love letter to her wife written with the greatest tenderness in pan sauce and flourless chocolate cake. Mercy had always, truthfully, questioned the wisdom of the most serious of plagues being recounted as they were on the edge of the feast. But perhaps that was the point of it. Perhaps it was about being kept waiting for your desires, your hopes. Perhaps it was about wondering if it would ever come. 

“Aaron said to Pharoah, the worst would be coming. That God would take the firstborn of the Egyptians, but that the Hebrews would be spared, if they were marking their doors with the blood of a lamb…” 

Sacrifice. Something always had to be sacrificed. A lamb. A child. A friend. Perhaps this had been her downfall, that she was unwilling to sacrifice anyone. She would never be Abraham, committing her dearest loves into harm. She wanted to save them all, and she had been punished for this disobedience, all those years ago when Overwatch fell. They had made something ugly of her love. Maybe God had seen her, and decided what the sacrifice would be for her. 

Maybe God would take the firstborn, however Mercy felt about it.

It would be easy to blame God for that empty corner of her living room and her heart, for it was all within his power to give. But the things that happen to us are rarely laid at God’s feet alone, and Mercy imagined her own moments of frustration, of foolishness, and wondered, which one was it that had brought her to this moment? If she had wanted to have a child, why then had she spent so long pursuing her work, running through war zones and long nights in laboratories? She should have known there are some things which still have a time limit. She should have known there was no guarantee. 

But if God had not wished it, why had he sent her Pharah? It was already to already believe her chance lost, but to show her that sliver of what might be, that green and verdant edge at the horizon of the desert, that was crueler still. 

She understood why some of the Hebrews had returned to slavery. It was easier to never know what you were losing. What could be lost. 

Tracer twisted against her back uncomfortably for a moment, but focused herself and shook her head. “I don’t understand why the first-born ‘ad to die, God being mostly angry at Pharoah.” 

“It was no longer a warning.” Pharah took a sip of wine. “There had been nine warnings. It was a punishment.” 

“‘Ardly seems fair to punish the lot of them for a bit of governmental wankery. Some ordinary Egyptian’s not keeping the ‘ebrews enslaved.” 

“But I doubt they protested the murder of the Hebrew sons. It is a kind of blood for blood. That they had so many chances to avoid that is a mercy in itself, God would have been right to kill their children first off. Justice. ” 

“No, isn’t justice. Revenge. Eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, Fareeha. Think you’d be defending your countrymen a bit more.” 

Pharah smiled and leaned toward Tracer. “Some of us are not compelled to excuse our country’s imperialism, and violence.” 

Tracer leaned back against the couch. “Alright, fair cop and well ‘it, but I am still right about the firstborn, Fareeha.” 

Her own Hilell and Shammai, ever arguing, ever debating, ever loving each other. She had watched that grow and bloom, too, over the work of years, step by step as they wandered together through an uncertain land. She had doubted, when she first fell in love with Pharah, that anything other than the glue that was Mercy would keep them together, but that had been arrogance. Tracer was more loveable than she seemed at first blush, and Pharah more loving than most would have imagined, and the two of them had grown together, though never in quite the same direction. 

Tracer was right, of course, that there was something unjust in taking something so precious, for a casual sin. Pharah was right, of course, that the sins of the community must be borne by the community, too, and that there had been so many chances to turn back. Did God ever owe them an apology, for such rashness? Or worse, for such calculation? It was one thing to act in anger, it was another to take something so precious so calmly. 

Perhaps the worst of it was that he was not angry at Mercy at all. Perhaps it was only that simple, calculated punishment that led her to this day, to the taste of saltwater and horseradish even more bitter on her lips than she had believed possible. It purged her mouth of the sweetness of the wine and the richness of the meat, leaving only that acrid dryness in its wake. 

Perhaps the worst of it was how angry Mercy was with him. 

The plagues passed. Freedom was had, for some, but even as the meal passed in front of her, Mercy kept thinking only of her own bondage, of the unanswered cry to God. She saw it in the empty corner beside her, the shake at Tracer’s hand as she drew the wine to her lips, in the way Pharah had carefully assigned the seating and set the table, in the way Winston avoided her gaze as they spoke of Yocheved’s baby, in the way Dva spoke to her so gently. The way Emily looked at her and Tracer both. 

In this victory of a meal, Mercy tasted only the failures of this past year. Miriam’s Well kept them alive in the desert, but Mercy began to wonder if it hadn’t been the bitter alkaline of survival, and not the sweet cool of living. 

The blessing over the wine buzzed from her lips without a thought, and the door opened. Next to her, sitting at that empty corner, was Elijah’s cup. The cup filled with the hope and promise that some year, everything she had been waiting for would come through that door. The cup was an outstretched hand to God in the darkness, whispering about trust. Every year, she had held out that hand. She held it out after her parents were killed. Held it out after Overwatch fell. Held it out as she was in exile from the medical community. She kept looking ahead in the dark, trusting what she could not see. 

She believed. 

To believe in Elijah. To believe that hope could always walk right through the door, that it could sit at your table and drink your glass of wine. To believe that there was a chance to see the dream fulfilled, to touch your feet on that Promised Land. 

Next year, in Jerusalem. 

It was too much to ask. It was too deep a failure, this year, marked by all of her insufficiencies, unable to have a child, unable to save Tracer, throwing herself at these same things again and again, the outcome never changing. She’d gotten no closer to getting pregnant. Tracer’s health continued to deteriorate. 

Not even taking the moment to excuse herself, Mercy got up from the table and ran into the small, tight powder room, the one Pharah had barely managed to niggle into the plans. She pulled herself into the bright white of that room, and she cried, and she cursed, in every language she knew, that God had kept everything from her, that God was punishing her for nothing, that God had judged her for her failings and ignored his own. She was angry. She kept that anger close to her like a flame, even as the immense darkness of her own sorrow crept in. She forgot there even was a Seder, in the other room, saw only the burning, everlasting bush that was her that was God that was the anger and love of all her people, all those years. 

There was a knock at the door, and Mercy wiped at her eyes. Pharah had been so tender and good, through all of this, and the last thing she needed was--

“It’s Emily.” 

Mercy had not expected that, and for a moment, it disarmed her so thoroughly that she opened the door. 

There was nothing exchanged, for a moment. Emily would say that she was no great mind, and no great judge, and no great hero, comparing herself unfavorably to the company Tracer generally kept. She would say this never seeing her own gift for knowing the kindest thing to say, for looking at the faces of people as she did her class of children and opening her own heart to them. 

“It’s just this year, Angela.” Emily nodded. “I know.” 

It was not a question, nor a complaint, nothing but an acknowledgment of the thing that had been Mercy’s own plague, sent by God, or, at the very least, not evaded by him. Mercy nodded, tears still streaming down her face. 

“Do you know Moses died, never seeing the Promised land? He was going through...and a mistake, meant God would never let him see it. He was kept from the promise of God.”

“Promised Land. I suppose it would be easy for a place you never see to be perfect.” Emily leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t know much about the Torah, of course, but I remember the story hardly ending with happily ever after.” 

Mercy shook her head. “They were….argumentative, and lost faith, and difficult.” she sniffled. “But they were not in the desert.” 

“It’s hard, to be Moses, isn’t it Angela? You go among people who don’t understand you, you try to lead them in whatever way you can, and for all that, you feel you will never find home. God barely listens to you, but you stay all the same. I think you’re brave for it.” 

“I’m not--” 

“Aye, you are. The moral compass for as long as I’ve known them, and for longer than that, I know. Lena and Fareeha would say so, as well.” Emily sighed. “This year has been forty for all of us, but for you I know most of all. But,” Emily looked back over her shoulder and stared at Tracer, “It’ll end, won’t it? Even Moses stopped walking.” She turned back around and wiped the tears from her eyes. “The Promised Land is just another beginning. But I don’t know the Torah very well.” 

Mercy looked up at her. “You are knowing it well enough.” 

“I’m sorry, about the baby. Cried over that myself, me and Lena never being able.” She sighed. “I just keep walking. What else can we do?” 

“I’m sorry I,” Mercy closed her eyes, “I am failing you both.”

Emily put her arm around Mercy’s shoulder. “No. You could never. You’re taking us on the journey.” 

“I should go back, to the table. I am being--” 

“We’ll keep going, aye. Eventually, we’ll find the end of it, whatever that is.” 

Hand in hand with Emily, Mercy walked back to the table. She was no clearer or calmer on the subject of God, of what he was denying her, of what he was denying all of them. But she saw the faces of her fellow travellers more clearly. It was not only Moses who made the journey. It was not only Moses who felt lost along the way, and it was not only Moses who died reaching for that unattainable goal, who strived and hoped against everything. 

They were together. She did not find the Promised Land, but she found their hands in hers. 

She poured the final cup of wine. All things come to an end. Even the desert.

#HON HON HON #The third one is The Promised Land and will theoretically be done someday ahah

[magioftheseas]

Repressed/Stunted

For @badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: Please Don’t Leave Me taken from here.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Possessive and violent thoughts but in terms of content, nothing really.

Notes: I finally wrote a full-ish Pokemon BW fic, focusing on FerrisWheelShipping because... Yes! This one’s on the messier side, sorry. I have a lot of feelings about my Trainer Touko/Hilda headcanons. I just think she should be much more aggressive. So, I explored that a little. Hope it’s okay. =m=

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

It had taken a while to ‘break N in’, so to speak. When she first offered that he stay with her and her mom, he had of course been anxious. Wary. He grew only more skittish the closer they got to Nuvema, and the only reason he hadn’t bolted the second the door opened was because her mom had greeted him so warmly.

“So you’re the friend she’s talked so much about! Come in, come in!”

She had wondered, of course, if N had ever known a mother’s affection. Judged by his dumbfounded stare and the way he trailed after her mother like a lost Lillipup, she suspected that wasn’t the case.

He really is a child, isn’t he?

“She looks a lot like you,” he had remarked. “That’s normal, isn’t it? What about your father?”

“We don’t really talk about him,” she had replied with an easy laugh. “I barely even knew him.”

“Oh. Was he bad?”

Like yours?

She had shrugged.

“Like I said, I don’t know. Can’t really make those kinds of calls on someone I didn’t know.”

“I see.” N blinked at her, eyes wide. “That’s such a noncommittal response. So mature, Touko.”

Mature?

The relationship between her and N had always been a little weird. From the start, N saw her as a rival and a counterpart to himself. With his own grand self-image, she couldn’t deny the expectation in that sparkling gaze of his was beyond uncomfortable and frustrating. Even now, N looks at her like there’s more than what she is, and the weight of that is crushing on her shoulders. With his life and world crumbled, his pedestal of her remained.

She still wants to tackle him sometimes for that. It would be inappropriate to do so at the dinner table, so she just thrums her fingers along the surface, and she takes in how her mom prepares their plates with a smile and a laugh. Like nothing is amiss. Like nothing ever went wrong.

“How long are you staying with us, N?” her mother asks. “I certainly don’t mind having an extra pair of helping hands around.”

“Touko insisted I’d come and she’s quite scary,” was his answer. “When I told her my living conditions, she went into a rage.”

“Because he sleeps outside,” she huffed. “In the cold. Without even a tent.”

“My friends keep me warm, Touko. It’s not cold at all.” N shook his head. “Not to mention tents are windy and unyielding.”

“Yeah, he’s staying with me until further notice.” A pause, and it was probably then that Touko realized how rude she was being. “T-That’s alright, isn’t it, mom?”

“As I said, I don’t mind,” her mom chirped. “It’s nostalgic, isn’t it? Having a friend stay over. Both Cheren and Bianca are so busy these days. How are they doing?”

“They’re...doing fine,” she says because she’s not sure what else to say. “Don’t worry. I’m looking into getting our own place so this shouldn’t be a permanent setup.”

Her mother’s smile is broad. N eyes her curiously. Intently. She doubts he understands this situation, the undercurrents brought about by societal expectations and pressures. He was sheltered from all of that—she wondered if he even truly understood what independence was. N was a couple of years older, yes, but he was also much, much more immature.

Not that it’s his fault or anything.

“You don’t have to be in such a hurry, Touko,” her mom said. “Just grow up at your own pace.”

“Can’t help it,” she huffed. “I don’t like to fall behind.”

Cheren and Bianca seem to be on a path that’ll suit them for the rest of their lives. Or at least the foreseeable future. Meanwhile I—still have no idea what I want, exactly. Besides that guy.

“Is this a competition?” N asked, quite confused. “I apologize. I do not understand at all.”

I want him. To be with him. Maybe that’s shallow, but... It’s because he’s so innocent that I can’t help it.

“It’s irrational,” Touko explained. “It’s not really meant to be understood so much as felt.”

“I...see. I don’t suppose you can explain those feelings in greater depth?”

“Not with formulas, no. Sorry.”

Inferiority, desire, and drive. I’ve always been the kind of person to let my emotions guide me. Blind leading the blind. I even ended up on going in circles looking for this stupid, stupid guy.

N was frowning, almost pouting, and she wanted him fiercely.

“Even as a human, you’re particularly arduous, Touko.”

“It’s not good human behavior,” she admitted. “But it’s not bad for a rival, huh?”

I say like I hadn’t crushed Cheren under my heel. Like I haven’t made Bianca almost cry. Like it’s not a great thing that both of them moved on from me.

“At least you’re not inflexible,” N mused. “Some humans are. It’s really frustrating. I can still only communicate properly with a select few of them. Beyond you and Mei, of course.”

That’s a bad thing. You left in the first place to gain a greater understanding. I shouldn’t be a little happy to hear that.

“A lot are flexible,” she said. “Keep trying, N. Don’t give up. And if someone is being particularly stubborn—I’ll beat them up.”

“Not battle them?”

“Sometimes you can settle matters with your own two fists, N. Oh, but only leave that to me. Don’t get into any fights. Be diplomatic where you can.”

“I know that,” N replied, brow furrowed. “Ghetsis made it clear that such physical means were...unsightly.”

“It’s because I don’t want you getting hurt, obviously,” Touko said. “Not to mention it’s for the sake of everyone else. I don’t think I’d be able to hold back against someone who hurt you.”

Even that monster’s name is enough to drive me into a white-hot fury. N’s incredible, isn’t he? For saying it. So easily.

N does bristle this time. With a predictable amount of childishness.

“I can handle myself. I don’t need a guard.”

“Oh, no,” her mother cut in. “Touko’s just like that with her friends. It can be a nightmare to deal with especially when she tried to physically fight Bianca’s father.”

N blinked, and his mouth opens. It closes without a word, leaving behind only a soft hum. Touko, too, said nothing in response. She felt no need to protest nor defend herself.

“Some things never change,” her mother just sighed, preparing the plates. “But, well, enough about that. Let’s eat!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“Thank you for the food,” N muttered, head ducked.

After the food was set out and the table made, they ate in relative silence and comfort. Touko wondered if she should have been relieved that N knew to use utensils. She then felt foolish for the thought. N wasn’t completely untamed, obviously. That monster wanted at least the appearance of refinement, so N would know how to function somewhat in a social setting such as eating at the table. Thinking of it that way, Touko found herself wishing N wouldn’t have bothered with the pretense. Even now, the way he operates forks and knives was stiff and almost mechanical. Between that and his tightened features, it was clear just how nervous the other was.

“Is it any good?” her mother asked, ever kindly and worriedly. She no doubt took notice as well.

N’s nod was more of a spastic jerk.

“Thank you for the food.”

It was too much to take, so she looked away for now.

“Thank you for the food,” she echoed in a drone.

--

N was a couple of years older than her. Physically, he was in the early stages of adulthood. But with how much of the world he’s seen, he might as well still be a child. He’s a lot like Bianca, body growing faster than allowed. Sheltered and sweet, only N’s upbringing was of a much more sinister nature.

N was once a king. At the time, Touko wanted to crush him. To smash him between her palms and wipe the remnants off her shorts. She had pretty strong feelings against him. His smug attitude and upturned nose, the way he would continuously dart his eyes towards her team attached to her belt. He spoke so quickly that she wanted to wring his neck.

All that said, she wanted to shove her tongue down his throat. Be it because of hormones, because he was the first guy she really got to know besides Cheren, or even because N was just pretty to look at, there had been undeniable attraction. Attraction which hadn’t even been separated from violence.

And now, she—doesn’t want to hurt him. Because she knows how vulnerable he really is. How he had been manipulated by a monster and how his face had crumbled like paper when called a freak. When she wanted to embrace him, it was fueled purely by the desire to keep him safe from the rest of the world.

She still let him leave. She understood that he needed to understand things for himself. She had been his ultimate rival, but they hadn’t been friends. She couldn’t have expected him to confide in her. And, yet, she still chased after him and now that they’ve reunited... She frankly has no intention of letting him go again, even if it’s for his own good.

N was stated to have a pure and innocent heart. The only thing pure about Touko was pure stubbornness.

--

“Mom’s nice.”

“Yeah, she is.”

She doesn’t correct N. Her mother didn’t either, finding it endearing if a bit sad. Touko did think to tell her not to pity him, because N doesn’t like to be pitied—but she thinks her mother might ask her more about N, and she doesn’t want to talk about him. Or rather, what she knows about him.

She kind of wants to keep it to herself out of the messed up desire to keep N to herself.

“It’s warm,” N said. “Nothing like the castle at all. It’s all calm. Calming. I envy your upbringing, Touko.”

He’s a little tall for the futon that her mother laid out. Touko stares at him shifting awkwardly.

“You’ll get used to it,” she finally replied. “You’re gonna stay here for a while, yeah?”

He hums softly.

“If you’ll have me.”

She could’ve laughed, even as she did have the decency to feel the slightest twinge of guilt. It wasn’t enough to admit the truth. She only felt guiltier because N thought highly of her. Like this—she was taking advantage of him. She’s been with Bianca long enough to know how to be gentle with people, and yet...

“Sorry.” She slips off her bed, hovering over him before pressing down on her hands. With N’s head in-between, she held herself over him with resolve. “You’re not lonely with me here, right?”

When that monster told you the truth—when he spat in your face about inhumanity, I can’t even imagine how you felt. Devastated? Shattered? Perhaps—you felt the loneliest you’ve ever been. I get it. I do. I understand why you had to get away. But—that didn’t stop me from wanting to scream “please don’t leave me!!”

“It’s a little lonely,” N admitted, because he really was so unabashedly honest. His eyes were bright, but her reflection within them looked a little twisted. “The reason for that is because you’re closed off from me, Touko.”

Ah.

Aha.

Her heart nearly stuttered through her ribcage. Funny how words like that could cut through her.

“Are you mad?” N asks so sadly, reaching up and cupping her face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving.”

This idiot really has such trouble understanding the human heart. But, he’s trying. Oh, Arceus, he’s trying so much. For years, he’s been trying.

Swelling with adoration, Touko turned to kiss his palm, nuzzling into that hand. N pets her for that, and maybe to him it’s just like reassuring a friend. Gentle touches to show that the world isn’t entirely cruel. If she had been a tad more immature, she would’ve recoiled at the idea of being treated like she was broken. But because she’s mostly selfish, she accepts his affection greedily.

I’m not letting you go again. Sorry, N. Sorry.

At least N holds her like he doesn’t want to let go, either.

#Magi fics #bad things happen bingo #FerrisWheelShipping #Pokemon BW #bad things bingo

[damn-stark]

Something There

Chapter 6 of Dark Temptations

A/N- I had so much fun writing this chapter, I love it!! I hope you guys like it too!! Let me know what you thought?! (Also this chapter was inspired by the ‘Something There from Beauty and The Beast’)

Warning- Angst, swearing, violence, SLOWBURN, LOOONG chapter

Pairing- Dark!Poe Dameron x Skywalker!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Everything.” Snokes voice echoed behind you, seeing his reflection casted on the transparisteel as he stood closely behind you and asked, “have you heard of the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”

You look away from the transparisteel and see as he walks closer to you but only far enough to stay hidden in the shadows. “No.”

Snoke mused, “I thought not, it’s not a story your father nor your grandfather would tell you. It’s a sith legend, Darth Plagueis was a dark lord of the sith so powerful and so wise he could use the force to influence the midi-chlorians to create life. He said such knowledge of the dark side he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying.”

You blink and fully turn to face Snoke, getting basked by the darkness of the room and unwantedly feeling as if he were bewitching you with every word he uttered. “Really?” You asked curiously. “He could save people from dying?”

Snoke nods as a wicked smile grows on his lips, “the dark side of the force is a pathway to many abilities some consider unnatural. It’s a power your grandfather Vader didn’t even know, but one you could learn and become far greater than he ever was.”

Again you blink and this time you swallow thickly as you suddenly snap from your stupor, as you truly heard what he said; feeling an anger and sense of confidence begin to bubble inside of you that made you speak up against Snokes attempts; “you’re wrong about one thing Supreme Leader Snoke. Darth Vader was never my grandfather. Anakin Skywalker is.”

Snokes smugness drops and he shows a terrifying serious expression.

You notice it and your confidence falters but you continue, “whatever trick you're thinking of trying to pull off, it’s not going to work. I will not fall for the temptations of the dark side.”

“Not even to get your brother Jacen Skywalker back?” Snoke quickly counters, making everything you tried to uphold before slowly wither and shrivel up inside you. Something he instantly took pride in as he had regained the upper hand—“not even then, Skywalker? Hmm?”

You shake your head and take a step back, feeling the confidence completely blow away and your anger take over. “No. No. It’s not possible. He’s dead. Your apprentice made sure of that.”

“So your father never told you then? Never told you of a way to bring your brother back?” Snoke queried, taking your silence as a sign to continue. “There is one. A way to fully bring him back, but it’s a way that you can only know of course if you join me and my apprentices.”

You gulp. “Why don’t you tell me now and I’ll consider.”

Snoke chuckled. “Do you take me for a fool?” Silence again overcomes you but this time you shrug and show a faint smirk. He shoots you a glare before he finishes. “I’m not one, I know that the moment I tell you, you’ll run off and try, but what you don’t know is that the only way to achieve such a notion and know of the way, you have to join the dark side and leave your jedi ways.”

Your eyes drop to the floor and you respond with a low grumble, “I’ll never join you.” You look up at him with a glowering glare, “like I’ve said before, I’m a jedi, I will not fall for your temptations.”

Snokes pride doesn’t drop as he shows you an ugly grin, “we’ll see about that.” He steps back and looks towards the bright hall just as Poe joins you. Unbeknownst to you, grinning wider as he saw your eyes instantly find Poe’s—“take her back to her quarters, my apprentice, our girl here has a lot to think about. And after you do so come back to me, we need to talk.”

Poe nods stiffly, “yes, master.” His gaze once again goes to you and he walks over to you, trying to grab your arm but failing to do so as you pull it away from him. He scoffs and tries again, this time succeeding and gripping onto it tightly. Proceeding to pull you down the hall that was brightened by brighter lights, letting the silence and a tension build even as you reached the elevator. Occasionally stealing a glance each other’s way, shoving away the questions that were building within each of you, especially him. Only feeling your anger overflow inside you but unable to read a single thought inside your head as he tried to do it discreetly. Just adding pressure to the already built pain.

It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened did the tension and the pressure stop all at once, letting only the questions to linger overhead. One finally managing to be asked by Poe as he walked you down the hall with your arm in one hand and his helmet in the other. “What did he want?”

Your eyes meet his as you look at him from the corner of your eyes, frowning even deeper as Snokes words echo louder in your head the moment he asks. Now you didn’t feel like answering, but you did so regardless and bluntly. “It doesn't matter.”

Poe shrugs, stopping in front of your door before responding. “I mean you’re angry so it does.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, feeling a cold breeze as your door behind you slides open— “it doesn’t matter. Just leave me alone.” You snap. Making him scoff and take a step back before he retorted just as sharply.

“Fine, I’m sorry I was worried and asked. I won’t do it again.”

You huff out angrily at his comment and take a step back into the room, letting the door close in front of his face. Something that let your surroundings suddenly get engulfed by the darkness and coldness of the room. Making your shoulders drop and the mask of anger for him and his question fall at the moment the silence of the room echoed in your ears, noticing once more how lonely it was inside, having only your loud and cruel thoughts as company.

——

“And if they come back again? They most likely wanted to kill me, but found...Jacen first. I can’t be close. I have to hide and leave y/n behind.” Your father's voice sounded clearly in the room, the words making your heart crack and tears instantly fill your eyes, pulling away from Ben’s grasp as you burst into the room. The sudden interruption causing all three adults to look your way.

“You’re leaving?” You whimpered, looking to your father and trying to fight back your tears.

“Y/N.” He muttered, his eyes darting to his sisters across the table before looking at you once more. “I have to—”

“Without me? What about Jacen? Are we not going to go after the person that killed him?” You rambled, hearing your voice crack and feeling the need to let your tears fall burn your eyes; “I-I saw. It was someone in a mask...I-I saw. You can’t leave.”

He walked up to you and put both hands on both of your shoulders, letting his gaze turn assuring, but not his words. “We don’t look for revenge, as tragic as it was we don’t—”

“He was your son!” You cried as you pulled away from his touch and let your expression twist into one of anger. “And my brother! How are we not going to kill the person that killed him?!”

“Because it’s not right.” He argued, “you are a Jedi. We don’t look for revenge. It will only lead you down a dark path.” He sighed and tried to walk towards you again, hesitantly this time as he saw and felt your anger. “I know you’re mad and grieving, but we can’t. Promise me you won’t.”

Your lip quivered as you looked into his blue eyes, unable to respond with a definite answer as you still didn’t know what to do. You knew you wanted justice, but you also knew your father was right. The ghosts you talked to everyday always taught you that too. But he was your brother. Maybe the real debate was if he would want this? Jacen was daring and little more ruthless than most, he often did things that went against what your father would say a jedi should act, but Master Kenobi said those were just traits similar to your grandfathers and that Jacen was far from turning to the dark side. So would Jacen want to be avenged?

His body didn’t disappear so it meant he was no ghost, even if Master Kenobi did say that neither did Master Qui-gon’s and he turned into a force ghost. But unlike him, Jacen never appeared to either ghosts you talked to. They said that they haven't seen him or felt his presence. So it was impossible to really know. To get to communicate with him. So again it was hard to know if revenge is what he would want.

Is it something you want?

You look away from your father and look out the window, watching the darkness that the night brought as you thought for a moment. Only looking at your father once you came up with a response, “then promise me you’ll stay, or let me come with you. Please.”

Your father blinked and looked towards the ground as he tried to hide the sadness and pity in his eyes at the answer he immediately knew he was going to give. And once he managed to find the courage, he reached to cup your cheek and give his answer. “I’m sorry, but I have to hide alone. I can’t risk them finding you too. You have to go with your aunt Leia and stay with them, Ben will—”

“No.” You seethed as you stepped away from him, hearing your heart finally break inside your chest. “I understand you loud and clear. No need to further explain.” Shooting him one last lingering glare you turn around and storm out of the hut, hearing Ben instantly follow after you in the dead of night, no stars or fires to light the way you were going. Just storming off blindly in the darkness, hearing Ben’s footsteps track behind you as the only indication that you weren’t alone.

“Y/N! Wait! Y/N….”

——

“..hey, y/n.” Finn uttered as he basically ripped off the helmet off his head.

Looking away from the dark view outside the transparisteel you shift your body as you sit on the couch to face him with a small smile, greeting him just as warmly. “Hi, Finn. Good morning...or is it night? I can never tell here.”

Said man walks towards you and basically throws himself on the couch, “I don’t know either. But basing that I woke up a few hours ago, I’ll say it’s morning. Somewhere.”

You hum and turn to face him, noticing the lack of trays he always carried when coming to your room—“uhh, no food today? Are Poe or Snoke starving me because of what I said a few hours ago?”

Finn chuckled and shook his head, “no. Uh, Nomad ranted about you a bit after he came back from seeing Snoke, but he didn’t say anything about starving you. Like I would listen if he did.”

You grin warmly, “aww you’re gonna make me blush.”

Finn responded with a light hearted scoff, going silent as he locked his eyes with yours for a lingering moment until you looked away and broke the tension you felt building at the shared interaction, as well as breaking the silence with a clear of your throat before speaking up. “I do want to thank you...” you look away from the void space and turn to him to continue, noticing his attention had gone unwavered.

“...for taking your time to eat with me for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I really enjoy it. I enjoy our time together as well as your company.” Your voice cracks but you swallow back the lump in your throat that began to form and burn. “I’m not used to eating alone...I'm always used to eating with someone. Usually now my cousin Ben, or my aunt Leia, or my uncle Han and or Chewie. Sometimes all four. Or it would be Ahsoka before she got mad at me. I mean she can’t eat cause she’s a ghost but she keeps me company.” You stopped and took in a shaky breath of air, looking up to the ceiling to avoid crying as you exhaled just as shakily.

Finn took a moment to give a response. You didn’t know if it was because your words touched him or because he was speechless, but he stayed silent for a moment, enough time to let you look towards him again. Noticing that he was looking away and that his gaze had faltered even if a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t until he sighed deeply a couple minutes later that he finally turned to look at you once more, his smile still there but barely noticeable. He blinked and shared what seemed to trouble him.

“Nomad said that you should go eat with him at the mess hall. That’s why I didn’t bring food, because he wants you to go join him.”

Your smile turns into a firm straight line on your face. “Like alone?”

“He said if that’s how you want it, then alone, but there's people there now. Just people from his squadron, or well his inner circle, those he trusts most. So those we saw yesterday and a couple others. Oh and also Rey.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and shrug before looking away and responding quietly. “I don’t know...I like it alone. I’m not that good with people or well crowds of people I don’t know. I mean when it comes to fighting yes, but not when it comes to talking.”

“You don’t have to talk to anyone. And I’ll be there,” he paused and hesitated. “So will Nomad.”

You hum and feel your stomach grumble, the sound giving you your answer. “Fine, but only for a while and only because there's food.” Without waiting for a response you push yourself to the edge of the couch and step into your shoes before standing up, right away noticing that Finn was still sitting and seeming to have something else on his mind. A detail you didn't take long to question. “Everything okay?”

“Yesterday, when you stood up for those resistance fighters,” he began in almost a whisper, “why did you do it? You were willing to give your life for them, why?” He asked as he looked over to you with a troubled gaze.

You swallow thickly and answer almost instantly. “Because it was the right thing to do. They were going to kill them because of my mistakes, it wasn’t right, so I wanted to take the fall, it didn’t matter. But they….ended up dying so, I guess I didn’t try hard enough.”

Finn blinked, “when do you do the right thing? How do you know?”

“Uhh,” you pause and look towards the ground as you find it difficult to answer. “It’s just an instinct I guess. No one gets to tell you when. It’s something you have to decide on your own.” Your gaze drifts to his still rather troubled person. Making the curiosity inside you grow tenfold. “Why—”

“What about the force?” He cut you off, “what is that?”

“Well the force is as my father puts it; is not a power one has. It’s not all about lifting rocks. It’s an energy between all things. A tension, a balance, that binds the universe together.” Your eyes narrow on him and you tilt your head slightly. “Why? Why all these questions?”

Finn shakes his head and shrugs, his gaze still looking troubled. “Just...curious.”

You let out a soft hum and watch as he stands up abruptly, walking around the couch and walking towards the door, stopping before it as it slid open and the lights from the hall casted his shadow inside the room. Pointing his head to the hall to wave you over, “come on, let’s go.” You hesitate for a couple seconds before you walk up to follow him out of the room. Walking down the usually empty hall in silence as he seemed to be lost inside his head. The only sound that filtered inside were the sounds of your steps echoing in the hall and later the door sliding open as he turned to walk into what you saw was the mess hall that he mentioned.

Seeing right away the new faces of the people he talked about. The ones that Poe supposedly trusted the most. There weren’t a lot, but definitely more than four. And as you walked further inside, you saw to the side in one corner the four from yesterday gathered around a table, while the rest of the mess hall was filled with different sentients and humans alike. In the far end you noticed was Poe with a group of girls around him, all batting their eyelashes and smiling sweetly. While he seemed to talk and talk about the force knows what; sitting across him from was the brunette you instantly recognized as Rey. She didn’t turn at the sound of the door, not like you could hear it with all the talking and scraping of utensils against the plates.

In fact no one seemed to notice either Finn or you until Poe ruined that moment as his gaze found yours, basically pushing the group of girls around him to the side and offering you an immediate charming smile. Seeming to forget what either of you said to each other only hours before. And once Finn and you finally reached his table, he looked up to you and greeted you in a very smug way. “Princess, I’m glad you came.”

You let out a huff of air, “are you really?”

He smiles wider. “Yes.”

“Hi,” Rey greets, a smirk tugging on her lips as she speaks in a mocking tone, “Princess.”

You scoff and ignore her greeting as you sit in front of her and in between Poe and Finn. Seeing as Poe pushed a plate covered by foil towards you and one towards Finn, looking at you mainly as he continued. “I got you a plate, I didn’t know what you’d want so I got you a little bit of everything.” You manage a small and feigned thankful smile as you take the foil off your plate. Picking up the fork to pick at the food before shifting your eyes to him one more. “I would have made you food myself, but if I made you food I would have to make everyone else here food. And well I think that gesture should be reserved for a special occasion.”

You scoff and lift your eyebrow, feeling your lips tug into a genuine amused smile. “You cook?”

He smiled sweetly and leaned in closer, lifting his thumb and then his index finger up to his lips to suck the nectar of the fruit he had eaten off of them slowly and one by one. The action making your eyes unexpectedly slide down to his lips to watch him, swallowing thickly as you begin to squirm in your seat before finally tearing your eyes away a little too late to go unnoticed. Feeling flustered (even more so) as he followed by licking his lips and whispering in a tone that made you shiver, “only for special people.”

You clear your throat and look down at your food, picking at a piece of fruit and shoving it into your mouth. Avoiding his stare as you swallowed the fruit and talked to him as you continued looking down at your food, hiding and hoping this weird flustered feeling would go away. “Uh...next time then.”

He hummed in agreement, “next time.”

You continued to eat and avoid the stares for a while until slowly all sound began to tune out, feeling as your eyes fixated on the plate that was soon empty and clean from the colorful foods that had once decorated on top of it, not necessarily focusing on the plate itself. Simply using it as a form to keep your eyes on something as your attention flew hundreds of miles away and you began to think of how you missed your uncle Hans sarcastic jokes; the way only Chewie and you would laugh at them and on occasion your aunt Leia. Usually though she disapproved of them. While Ben pretended not to be interested even though you would see him crack a smile.

You missed the hundreds of war stories Ahsoka would tell to keep herself busy as you ate, or the lighthearted bickering between her and your grandfather; on occasion hearing, Master Kenobi join in one or two here and there. You missed seeing the beautiful colors painted on a real sky, the greenery that D’Qar was filled with. The feeling of knowing your father was okay and hiding out in the depths of the galaxy. You just missed the force in general. Missed the comfort of having your cousin Ben around even if most of the time he was silent. Missed being free….

“I’m surprised you’re not out there flirting with your crush, Skywalker.” Poe spoke by your ear, disrupting you from your thoughts to focus your attention on him.

You sigh, “I said he reminded me of someone, Poe, not that I liked him.”

“Damn sorry. I was just teasing.”

You sigh again and push your empty plate forward, crossing your arms on the table before you mumbled out your response. “I’m just tired of being here.” Poe stays silent but you could feel his eyes on you, the feeling making you groan and turn to him. “What?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer this time, “I’m taking a couple of my troopers with me to a recon mission, do you want to come?”

You straighten out your shoulders and cock your head to the side, lifting one eyebrow to question his motives. “I’m not going to help you kill innocent people, nor fight resistance fighters.”

Poe shakes his head, “none of that. Supreme leader Snoke wants me to go down on this planet allied with us to check why they’ve gone silent. No fighting, just checking.”

Your gaze narrows on him to debate for a moment before your desperation to breathe fresh air and see a real sky beat you to answering. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.”

At your answer, Poe sat up straighter in his spot and offered you a smug smile.

——

As the ship slowly began to lower, your eyes drifted to look out the transparisteel, noticing the soft light green fields of grasslands surrounding the beautiful white capital city. Noticing the blue sky scattered with big greyish clouds that looked as if they were going to fully invade the serenity of the calm skies any moment now. The sight made you sigh and think how tragically beautiful it looked regardless of the storm that seemed to be brewing. Sighed in content as you knew you’d feel real fresh air circulate through your lungs. No more, for at least a while, of that artificial air that circulated in the piece of sky trash you were imprisoned on.

“Come on,” Finn spoke beside you in a more muffled voice due to the helmet on his head, one that hid his face just like how Nomads mask hid Poe’s face—only the thing that differed between the two was that your mind didn’t identify a masked Finn as someone else completely, not like how you viewed Poe with the helmet of Nomad on—Maybe it was due to the fact that every time you saw the masked face of Nomad, all you could see was that tragic day he killed Jacen. While without the helmet you only saw the familiar eyes of the man you knew before.

It was a dilemma. Truly.

Standing from your seat you follow Finn out of the cargo ship to question him. Mainly on your motives in being here. “Why exactly are you all here? I mean Poe said recon, but I don’t believe him.”

“Why not?” Poe answered for Finn as he passed by you, his helmet surprisingly off. “It’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you.” He continued saying over his shoulder as he made it past the ramp and stopped onto the field of long grass.

You narrow your gaze and lift one eyebrow to respond with a loud scoff. Still not believing a word he said whilst you continued to walk off the ship, feeling a small but happy smile tug on your lips as you felt the cold breeze hit your face, as you deeply inhaled some of that sweet and real air; As you brushed your fingers against the blades of the long grass. Only feeling your smile widen as you look up to see the sky, as you felt for a single moment the freedom that had been stolen from you. But only for a moment before Poe’s voice brought you back to the ground.

“You’ve ever been to Lothal before?”

“No.” You breathe, having no choice but to follow him and his small group towards multiple tall stone spires strangely arranged in a circle. “But, I know that Lothal isn’t only famous for their grasslands or Lothal cats, but the fighters they manufacture for you and your precious army.”

The corner of his lips tug into a smirk as he lets out a small huff of air through this nose before walking towards a large giant rock spiral in the center of the circle, “yes, we’re here because of what Lothal provides us. Or has been lacking in as of late.” He walks around the rock to use the force to throw aside a thin slab of rock that hid an entrance to the hallowed rock. “We’re here just to check though. See what we can spot from afar before we have to decide how to approach.” He continues guiding you inside where you see a small place with nothing to offer but grey stone walls and a cut out square on the wall that is meant to be a window. Noticing as well, spiral stairs carved out by the entrance that as you followed Poe up them saw that it led to yet another empty room, more carved out squares and circular holes on the walls.

“Finn, why don’t you look out of that one on the far right and I’ll look out of this one.” Poe instructed as he handed Finn a pair of binoculars, noticing Odette, the purple Mirlian walking up the stairs, her helmet off her head and under her arm—Poe smirked at the sight and lightly hit your arm and pointed to her with his head. Your eyes followed before he spoke up in an over nonchalant tone. “Odette, why don’t you stay by Finn and look out from this level. Princess and I will go to the third floor.” Said girl just offers him a pointed look and nothing else, while Finn remained clueless as to what was going on. Poe met your gaze and wiggled his eyebrows while a boyish smile tugged on his lips.

You eyed Finn and Odette before looking back at Poe before scoffing and walking up the last flight of spiral stairs, missing the way Poe shot Dario and Sibyl a thumbs up for his “job well done”, before his gaze shifted to you walking up the stairs, smirking before he took long strides up the stairs to quickly catch up to you. Quietly watching as you walked to a carved out hole and seemed to look out of it yourself—“see something?”

“I’ll tell you when I gain the ability to have super vision.” You remark in a more half hearted manner. Poe noticed and simply shook his head, putting on his helmet to look out the carved out square, moving his gloved finger to the side of his helmet to press on a button you presumed was to enhance and zoom in to the city. Leaving you with nothing to do but look out and admire the view of the white city from so far and so high up. “Have you seen something?” You question….Nomad as you turn to see him still looking out.

He shakes his head and looks down at his beeping comm on his wrist; tapping it once to sputter out the hologram of Rey. The girl not hesitating to speak as her eyes seemed to wander around as if looking out for someone or something. While her voice was quieter than usual. “BB8 and I spotted something, in the outskirts of the city hidden in what appears to be an abandoned garage. X-wing fighters.” Your eyes narrow and you fully pull your body away from the wall and watch Rey’s hologram. “Resistance x-wings. The marks on the ground are fresh, if they had been left here years ago, there would be no marks. They were just put here. Which means that Master Snoke’s and General Hux’s suspicions might be true.”

Nomad grunted and his other hand balled into a fist before he asked in a deeper voice. “What about actual resistance fighters? Anyone suspicious?”

“No, if they’re here, they’re not going to be out and about. Especially not if they’re here for secret meetings.” Rey spared one glance at Poe and spoke in a more teasing tone. “Ask Skywalker, she might know something.” With that the hologram cut off and Nomad slammed his fist into the stoned wall, ripping the helmet off his head and slamming it to the floor before he bellowed out

“Fuck! I fucking knew it.” He ran his hand down his gelled hair and breathed out deeply through his nose, snapping his head up to look at you with his red and angry twisted face. “What do you know? Huh?” He quickly followed by storming towards you and stopping inches before you, looking at you with an angry burning glare that made his dark eyebrows furrow. While also making his nose flare and his breathing heavy, as well as made his face red and for the veins on his neck to show, just like a small one on his forehead—and such a sight would’ve made anyone else nervous, intimidated or scared, but for you it did nothing of the sort. Instead it made you dangerously brave and snappy. An effect that only happened with him though because with anyone else you would be less so—there was also something you could feel upon noticing his anger but it was a feeling you couldn’t identify.

“What do you know, y/n!” Poe hissed as he stepped closer, “you better tell me before—”

“Nothing!” You interrupt sharply. “I don’t know anything.”

Poe scoffs and presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! You’re a commander and niece to the General. I know you’re not clueless, so. Tell. Me.”

“Like any of that means anything.” You scoff as you keep your eyes locked on each other. “I have the title because my aunt felt bad for me. I didn’t ask for it. And her being my aunt doesn’t mean shit either, I hardly spent time at base, so I’m out of the loop.” You point your finger at his chest and take a step closer to him to look at him with confident glare. “So why don’t you cool it on your anger issues and stop yelling at me.”

Poe huffs out and pushes past you, storming down both flights of stairs and commanding his squadron in the meanwhile. “Helmets on and weapons ready. We’re going after those rebel scum hiding in the city.”

Your eyes widen at his statement and your breath hitches. A fear for those comrades you knew were out there somewhere most likely doing a mission sent by their General. Or perhaps simply passing time in the city. Regardless of what they were doing you couldn’t let them die; so quickly you rush after Poe and push past his troopers that were quick to follow his command, following him out the hollowed out rock, grabbing his arm to pull him to face you—“don’t be an idiot.”

“Excuse me?” He sneered.

You swallow thickly and briefly look towards the ground. “What you’re planning to do isn’t smart. One, you don’t know where they are, you’ll just be going in blindly, and two,” you hesitate for only a second, blinking up to meet his unwavering gaze, “you attacking first is going to prove something. You say this planet has gone quiet and you think they might want to switch sides right?” He hums and drops his gaze on the hand you still had on his arm before looking at you again. “Well attacking first is only going to prove something and only make them shift closer to the resistance. Not only that, but you're only one ship, they have multiple. They’ll win and they will get all of you locked up. You need to be patient, search your feelings, Poe. I can’t search through mine, but I can tell you that they’re quiet for a reason.”

Poe places on hand on his hips and rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek, nodding slowly as his gaze wanders to the rocks behind you for a moment before he meets your gaze. “What do you suggest I do then?”

You shrug, “if you really want to know something...know where they might be or what’s going on, then go to the outskirts of the city, the poorest parts always know more than the richer. They’re also the ones most likely working on your materials, you’ll learn something there. But you need to be patient, you’ll know nothing from being harsh.”

His gaze narrows on you for a moment as he stays quiet and thinks.

“Trust me.” You try and assure him.

“Okay,” he nods, “fine I’ll trust you. We won’t attack.”

The corner of your lips tug into a half smile and you drop your hand from his arm, letting your eyes slowly study his outfit, “but you can’t go in your armor or your helmets.” You point out as your eyes meet his once more. “Too much attention. Go in regular clothing to blend in.”

Poe smiles smugly, “fine.” He shoots you a cocky and yet charming grin, “only because I’m trusting you.”

——

“Are you sure it’s going to be safe?” Otto asks Poe in a voice he thought was quiet, but was anything but that. “What if this planet is really allied with the resistance? What if her family is looking for her? Her father is a famous jedi who won the war before, there's thousands of people that would do anything to save the daughter of a war hero.” He shoots you a side eye over his shoulder as he finishes “whispering” to Poe, making you roll your eyes but stay pacing behind them and acting as if you were looking at passing small homes and people of all kinds, faking to be entertained by the items and or food vendors sold and tried to make you buy. Ignoring the obvious looks they would give you as they talked about you or rather Poe’s safety.

“It’s fine, as long as we keep low we’ll be fine.” Poe “whispered” in return, “plus the only commotion has been that they saw Han Solo in Takodana, but that’s all. Nothing else. We’re fine….”

Han Solo in Takodana? Hmm…just him? His visit might not be unusual since Maz’s castle is a sanctuary for smugglers, but he hardly likes going there. Could he just be there just cause or is he there for information on you? Is Ben with him?

Your gaze dropped like your shoulders had at the thought of them. The thought of them looking for you excited you, but it also worried you since you knew it was a dangerous task that could result in nothing good. Missions with your uncle Han hardly ever went perfect and always seemed to result in someone shooting at all of you, especially him, or him shooting at someone. You could only imagine how this mission would turn out.

“Plus,” Poe continued in a louder voice, “she’s okay, she has a hood on.”

“Ah, yes the power of the hood.” Sibyl remarked sarcastically, “she’s practically invisible.”

Poe scoffed and slowed his pace so you could fall beside him, watching you silently for a moment as you continued “admiring” the white city you walked past. Only managing to talk after a moment of utter silence between the both of you. “I’m not hearing anything in regards to what I’m looking for.”

“Obviously,” you snap as you turn your head to meet his gaze, “you’re not going to hear anything on the busy streets, you have to talk to people, go inside taverns or talk to vendors. You need to be patient.”

“I don’t have time—”

“Which is exactly why you’re not as good of a fighter as you think you are, nor a good force user.” You counter before stopping by a stand of sweets, smiling down at the sweets you knew were imported from Naboo.

“Okay then teach me.” Poe commented as he stopped beside you. “You’re the best Jedi I know, you’ve always been good. Teach me.”

You chuckle and look at him to check if he was joking. “You’re….” You cut yourself off as he didn’t break into a laugh like you had, the serious expression on his face finally making your laugh die down and your smile to drop and a warm feeling to grow on your cheeks. “I dont—I can't use the force thanks to the injections your master makes me take. I can’t teach you. Plus even if I could. I-I you’re full dark side, that’s not my area of expertise.”

Poe gave a light chuckle and gave the vendor a couple credits before taking the bag of sweets off the table and picking your hand up off your side to carefully place the bag on your hand. Closing your fingers on the bag to secure your hold on it as you looked at him in slight bewilderment to what he asked. He offered you a smug smile before he continued, “I’m not asking you to turn me to a Jedi, I’m asking you to teach me some lessons on how to be a better force user and a better fighter. How to be patient. Snoke will only teach so much.”

Your cheeks burn hotter and you shake your head slightly, glancing down at his hand still on yours before you gently pull it away and sputter out your response. “I-I. You have Rey. She’s a good fighter and a great force user.” You move around him and continue walking down the street, maneuvering past the crowd of people and spotting Poe quickly catch up. “Ask her.”

“Anger isn’t the best teacher.” He commented, making your eyes snap to him, “she’s harsh, patient maybe, but not like you. Plus you’ve been taught by great force users. You know far more than her. Come on, just a lesson or two?”

You come to a full stop and turn to look at him, noticing how much more human he looked without his uniform on and in a white button up shirt; that was as you now noticed, slightly unbuttoned and exposing part of his sun kissed chest. His hair was a little bit more wild then his well styled and usual over gelled hairstyle in a manner, revealing the curls you knew he had. He looked almost kind and not as intimidating even with the scar on his face, he looked….and this is something you’ve noticed since you first met him, he looked—wait. Whoa. No. No. Ha. No. Ha.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat you blink a couple of times as you thought of the response you already knew. “Fine.” You breathe, “but just two lessons and you don’t get to be your usual uh, cocky self, or you know stubborn. You’re going to listen.”

Poe smiled smugly, “got it.” He met your gaze and smiled wider, making your cheeks grow warmer to the point you had to shove past him and pick up your pace to catch up with the rest of his group. Walking into a quieter part of the city, a side where it still looked as poor as the part you had just walked out of, but lonelier and not filled with vendors or as many people. There were people here and there, kids that looked like they had missed a meal or two, or a couple. People asking for money and some that looked like they were up to no good. Basically looking like a typical street worn out by the raging wars and the side they were trying to provide for. Usually sides like the First Order who were too busy with themselves to worry about what happened to the planets they promised peace and well being to.

It was usually planets like these that realized that they allied with the wrong side when it was getting too late. And it was the people with less who suffered most—you sigh and tear your eyes away from the people you passed to look ahead but speak to Poe who still insisted on walking beside you; “we’ll probably find a nice tavern or cantina close by that you can question shortly.”

“There.” Dario points out, “at the end of the street. A tavern.”

Your eyes follow to where he points and see the tavern he spoke of, spotting right away multiple people around the white tavern, some looking like the locals here and others just like passing people like you. Part of you...actually all of you dreaded walking and letting them question people. If their suspicions were true and the resistance was here to cut a deal with Lothal then nothing good was going to result in the fighters here, nor the ones at base, or the people here. But hopefully, they weren’t going to find anything and Poe would have to head back to the capital ship empty handed, with no harm caused to those resistance fighters.

“Remember ask, but let’s not make it too obvious. We want to know as much as we can.” Poe explained to his squadron, who nodded in agreement as you all neared the tavern. “If we’re too—” before he could finish his sentence, his words were abruptly cut off as a couple kids shoved past the both of you, all three kids looking back, but not at you, but at the people who followed and rushed past you with their guns out and shooting at them, laughing as the kids fell to the ground when three other people guns blocked their path ahead, leaving no room to escape or chance as the blasters were pointing at them.

“We’ll give you to three boys, return what you stole or you’ll pay for it with heavy consequences.” A large green sentient asked, grabbing a smaller boy off the ground and threatening him with the blaster on the side of his head, “one, two—”

Just before you could stop them, someone else you didn’t expect did so first, “hey! Leave the kid alone!” Your head snapped to the man standing beside you and watched his outburst with a widened gaze. “Leave them all alone.”

The green sentient dropped the kid and turned to face Poe with his gun instead, making those people beside him point their guns at Poe’s squadron who had their hands on the handle of their blasters, ready to protect and fight for their general. Before they could pull out their blasters, Poe put his hand out and signaled them to remain calm. While you continued watching and listening in shock.

“They stole from me!” The green sentient countered, “am I supposed to let filthy street rats like them get away? No. They get taught their lesson for stealing, so stay out of it scum.”

Poe narrowed his gaze and scoffed, eyeing the kids and things they had in their hands before glaring at the ugly sentient again. “You’ll kill them for a bag of bread? It seems to me like you could go without it. They’re just kids, leave them alone. I’ll pay for what they took and you’ll let them go without harm.”

The man chuckled, “you pay and I get my stuff back too.”

“Not how it works. I’ll pay only, you don’t take their food. Let them go.” Poe urged again, making the sentient laugh louder and for his people to do the same. And before they could shoot at Poe, said man pulled out your purple lightsaber and threatened them, making all of them halt and falter. Eyeing the purple blade pointed at their leader you supposed and Poe, all running off like cowards before the green one followed without anything he was offered. All while you watched in the same state as before.

Poe deactivated your lightsaber and hung it back on his side, approaching the kids with a soft and assuring look, crouching down to help the one that had been threatened before and offering his hand. The boy took it and offered Poe a thankful smile. While your shock dropped and you were left with a conflicted and almost soft look as you continued watching Poe’s surprising actions, hearing his words intently; “here, some money. Take it and use it wisely. No more stealing from people like them, okay?” He leaned in closer to the group of boys and whispered loudly with a smirk on his face, “or at least don’t get caught next time.”

The boys laughed and thanked Poe before running off, finally letting the crowd watching return to do their own thing again, causing you to fully realize what happened. What Poe did to save the kids he could’ve let get killed and ignored. But something he didn’t let happen. He didn’t question standing up to them. He-he acted like someone you didn’t know was there anymore. Like someone that left you speechless and view with a change and some sort of admiration. Think that there might be something there that he didn’t show in a long time, that you admired and liked before. That you liked now. A side of him that truly made you smile.

And before he could notice you staring at him in the soft, admiring way you did just now. You looked away and let him walk past you, following him into the Tavern without talking of what happened. Getting once again surprised that he was not gloating his heroic actions. Not like you wanted to ask either. You let it happen and let the topic go unspoken, instead focusing on the task they needed to do. Sitting down in silence in your own table and letting Poe’s squadron and him actually be discreet and smooth of their motives. Feeling ignored all by yourself, actually wishing Poe didn’t tell Finn to stay on the ship with Odette. At least then you’d have someone to talk to. All you had now was the sweets Poe had so nicely bought for you and a cute orange and black Loth-cat laying by the window you were near, taking in the last rays of sun before the grey clouds swallowed them and left only a grey and dark painted sky.

The loth-cat eyed you and you smiled, standing from your seat and walking near, taking out a piece of your snack and offering it. The cat tilted his head and sniffed the air, leaving the chance for you to raise your other hand and reach to pet its head. Only before you could touch its fur, the cat opened his jaw and bit your fingers, crawling back and growling at you.

“Ow! What the hell?!” You wince, pulling your hand back and lifting it to put it before you and see how red the tips of your fingers had gotten already. They weren’t bleeding, but it hurt a lot. “You little....Ow.”

“You disappoint me, Skywalker.” You hear Poe’s familiar voice say behind you, making you scoff and continue shaking your hand as if that were going to make the pain go away—Poe crouched down beside you and took your injured hand to examine it, offering you a teasing smile, “you’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say, it doesn’t hurt you.” You complain, glancing at your hand still in his before you once again pulled it away. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yeah, it’s like you said. Took some patience, but it happened.”

You remarked smugly, “told you.”

Poe answered with silence and pulled his gaze away to look at the Loth-cat still close by, pulling out some food pellets from the pocket in his shirt and extending his hand, waiting and coming out successful as the cat came and ate from his hand. Leaving you once again surprised—“you approached it abruptly, it probably thought you wanted to hurt it and attacked first.” Poe explains. You gasp softly at the cat still eating calmly and letting Poe pet its fur, looking at you once it was done and hissing at you before it crawled back—“here.” Poe says as he takes your hand again and pulls out more pellets. When did he get those? Who knew—“let them come to you.” He puts the pellets on your palm and leaves his hand under yours.

You turn to face him and remark, “if it bites me and I die, I’ll haunt you.”

Poe snorts and meets your gaze with a soft smile. A smile that made your cheeks begin to feel a warm sensation again and make you feel some sort of way you couldn’t quite make out. Whilst also making you look away before he could notice. Hearing his voice by your ear and getting a shiver down your spine; “okay, but I got you, it’s not going to hurt you.”

You hide your smile and look at the now defiant cat. Growing rather impatient. “It’s not coming.”

“Be patient.” He teased.

You glance at him and shoot him a pointed look. “Hilarious—” before you could finish your remark, the cat approached slowly and ate the food off your hand making you grin and turn to show Poe such a gesture. Almost as if this was the greatest achievement ever. Before the loth-cat could go away, you slowly reached your hand and pet its fur, the action making your grin wider. Even if it was a short encounter it made you feel happy, a feeling that had lacked as of late. Unbeknownst to you, a gesture Poe noticed, just like he noticed the glances and hidden smile you just made. Noticing as well that you let his hand touch yours. More than once. He didn’t comment on it however and let it happen a while longer before he stood up and helped you to your feet.

“Let’s go back, Finn is waiting for us.”

Your smile drops at the realization that you had to go back to the piece of sky trash and once again get locked in the room you wanted to get out of. All the illusion of the events of today slowly fell and a heavy feeling weighed down on your entire body. Making your steps slow and lack behind the group as you walked out of the tavern to see that Finn was literally waiting on the ship a few feet from here, floating a few inches off the ground—way to keep it lowkey.

Right as you were going to drag your feet towards the ship the sound of your name, or rather fake name you grew accustomed to came from someone familiar who wasn’t Poe, making you stop and look behind you. Noticing behind the cloud of dirt the ship made, a dark haired, brown eyed girl you knew from base. Mara. “Jaina?!”

Your breathing hitched and your eyes widened, noticing that more of the squadron you once commanded appeared behind her too. Making your heart race inside your chest as fear spiked through you. Mara pulled out her blaster after noticing the people you were with and pointed to Poe as he walked up behind you. He noticed. Of course he did and grabbed your arm, looking between you and Mara. Letting you fear for a second as he stopped and did nothing but grab your arm that he was going to kill them. Because you knew that he knew who they were, that they were the resistance fighters making a deal with Lothal.

But as the eternal and dreadful minute passed with him just standing and looking, he did nothing. Causing you to shake your head as Mara tried to walk towards you with her blaster raised. She didn’t want to understand at first and wanted to try and shoot Poe, but you shook your head again and mouthed “no”, shooting her glare to make her finally understand that she needed to stop.

“Come on, sweetheart let’s go.” Poe said as he pulled you with him, having Finn in his trooper suit help you on as Poe climbed on himself. Letting you as you stood firmly by the ramp look back and watch Mara with a watery gaze. Only, not because she really meant something, but because of what she represented, the people she was going to see that you missed and could only see by memories.

She called your fake name again, “Jaina!” And you ignored it, looking down as the ramp slowly closed and blocked out the image of her, blocked out what she represented. Leaving you to see nothing but a dark and empty wall.

——

Luke’s P.O.V

Luke’s lips parted at the sight of the silver and black hilt inside the small box. He didn’t know what to do or what to say, he was left speechless and surprised. He never thought he’d see the lightsaber that he once used ever again, he thought it was forever lost. But alas it wasn’t and it was here in front of him, calling him.

He moved his hands to pick up the hilt, exhaling a deep shaky and pent up breath he didn’t know he was holding in, stopping mere inches away the lightsaber and examining it for a moment. And once he moved again to pick it up, the hilt instantly felt familiar and yet heavy. He’d forgotten how heavy they really were; it had been so long since he’s picked one up. He remembers the same feelings had passed through him as he got it for the first time. Familiar and heavy. And just like the first time there was some amusement and content. He felt happy picking up the lightsaber that once belonged to his father, to have it back with him.

With that, Luke turned the saber in his hands and held it with one hand, turning it upright to activate it and see the blue blade emit from within, seeing as the blue hue engulfed the whole room in its light. The action, the scenery of everything being casted in the blue light making him smile, but not one that lasted long as suddenly everything around him changed. Suddenly he seemed to be looking outside transparisteel, spotting squadrons of stormtroopers all perfectly lined up, throwing their fists out at something their higher up said. And right as he was going to question his dark surroundings he heard a voice he recognized.

“What could you offer me?”

Luke turned quickly and his eyes widened at the sight of his daughter. “Y/N.” He tried to move forward to grab her, but he then noticed the tall, pale and thin sentient in his gold robes behind her, offering a wicked smile as he pointed out and spoke in a cold voice. “Everything. Have you heard of the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?” Luke gasped and tried to move forward again, bellowing out “no.” But as soon as he did, he stumbled forward and seemed to be transported into another room.

One where the almost blood red lights seemed to illuminate the path in the room. A room that sent shivers down his spine as he noticed the cold feeling, as he noticed the red drapes as his gaze slowly lifted, spotting in the middle of the red room, a circular metallic throne and someone sitting on it. Not the ugly sentient with the gold robes, but someone else, someone smaller than the sentient was, a woman it seemed, her face hidden under the hood of the contents of her black hood. Luke tried to move towards to see if he could identify her, wanting to see more than an elegant black ring on her finger and a lightsaber hilt in one hand.

But as he took a few steps forward, the woman lifted her head. Her face was still hidden, the only thing that he could see were her yellow-red eyes. He gasped and froze, hoping that it wasn’t his daughter, that the dark side hadn’t presusaded her. He hoped that she would be stronger, he couldn’t accept that it was her. He tried again to move more forward, but before he could take another step forward, he heard the familiar sound of a lightsaber ignited behind him, the soft hum as it stayed activated and casted yet a blue hue. As Luke was going to turn and identify the new mysterious person, he was brought back into another room. A dark one that was only lit by the lights of the silver and white stars outside yet another transparisteel. In front of the transparisteel was a girl on a couch looking out at the void of space.

Just as he was going to approach her, a door behind him sounded and someone called her name. “Y/N.” She turned and immediately a smile spread on her face, one that made a relieved look spread on Luke’s face. The man that called to her passed through Luke, causing him to notice a stormtrooper in a black uniform. Someone his daughter called Finn—just before anything else could be seen, all of it suddenly disappeared and he was back in the storage room from before in Takodana, hearing a voice he recognized as Master Obi-Wans and one that belonged to Master Yoda’s.

“Help her as you once helped your sister, Luke.”

“Take his first steps you will help him do.”

“But.” He tried to argue the last sentence. “Him? Help who?” And as always before his questions could be answered the voices were gone, leaving only the room basked in the blue light of his lightsaber and the sound of its hum to fill the room. He sighed and deactivated it just as the door swooshed open, revealing four people.

“You’ve found it, Luke. Your father's lightsaber.” Maz Kanata spoke in an almost amazed tone as she stood in front of Leia and Han. “It called to you like it called to you before.

“Did it come with your hand too Luke?” Han joked, grinning at his own joke, looking around to see if his family would laugh and frowning and muttering as they didn’t. “Chewbacca and Y/N would’ve laughed.”

Turning back on the topic in hand, Luke looked away from Han and looked back to Maz as she continued speaking. “Go help your daughter, Luke. I’ll try and see what I can do from here.”

Luke smiled, “thank you, Maz.” He then moved towards the door, making everyone walk out to leave the hall.

“May the force be with you. With all of you.”

——

“Ilum is just a couple hours away.” Han announced over his shoulder as the ship blasted into hyperspace. “Do you think she’s going to be there?”

Leia’s eyes drifted to Han’s figure sitting on the chair and she shot him a glare from her seat, one Luke knew how to identify the reasoning behind. And yes it was okay to talk about her, he wasn’t going to get mad over something as simple as talking about her. Not only that, but he was somewhat assured of her well-being from the visions he had; he might not know if they were old or new, but he had to take them as a piece of assurance.

“Maybe.” Luke answered, pulling Ben’s attention from his seat. “I saw a vision when I grabbed the lightsaber—”

“Was she alive?” Ben interrupted as he completely turned his seat to face Luke with a concerned look.

“As far as I could tell,” Luke responded, noticing Ben’s sigh as he leaned back in his seat and averted his gaze once again, only hearing what Luke had to say. “But I don’t know if she was in Ilum. In the vision I saw her looking out transparisteel, so she might still be on Snokes capital ship. But going to Ilum is still our best bet to know where in space the ship is.”

“What else did you see in your vision, Luke?” Leia asked, her brown eyes expressing the same exact concern Ben had only moments ago.

Luke blinked and looked down at the lightsaber in his hand, “her mostly. All except for one. One where I saw someone hidden under a dark hood and only showed eyes of a sith.” Hanging the lightsaber back on his side, his eyes slid back to Leia and he continued, “it’s what Master Yoda told me that has got me confused. He said I have to help someone take their first steps...but I don’t know who it might be. He didn’t tell me...like always.”

Leia smiled, “we’ll know with time.”

Just as Han was going to open his mouth to add a quip, a beeping sound came from the co-pilot's seat, followed by a blue hologram that sputtered out now that Luke tilted his head to see it had been Ben’s comm. The whole room silenced as soon as the imagery of a pretty woman with a thin face and curly hair showed and spoke with a thick accent. “Ben today while I came to Lothal I found something that reminded me of you, I—”

The imagery quickly cut off as Ben’s hand covered the comm with his hand; Said boy suddenly standing from his seat, showing his winded and surprised eyes before leaving the room without saying a word, leaving behind a silence that caused shared confused glances to pass around. Something that was broken as Han, Leia and Luke broke into laughter that echoed throughout the whole room and down the hall, bringing a happy and sweet reminder of how their own past once was.

——

“You know I thought years of flying would cause less crashes,” Luke complained with an added groan as he felt the soreness in his body from the crash landing Han had done as they arrived on the snow covered planet. “Guess not.”

Hans eyebrows furrowed as he turned to look at Luke with a narrowed gaze, “well why didn’t you fly, hot shot?” Han’s ego was only wounded more as Chewbacca added to the complaints with a compliment towards Luke’s flying. “It doesn’t matter if he blew up the Death Star!” Han remarks before turning to his wife, “Leia are you going to back me up here?”

Leia simply shrugged, causing Han to scoff and for his eyes to widen as he threw his arms up in over exaggerated disbelief. Something that brought silence to the group as their shoes crunched through the white blanket of snow that decorated the ground in a beautiful manner. The white sparkling snow that the sun rays danced on bringing a peacefulness that contrasted that of the ugly buildings that the first order invaded this planet with. An ugliness that spread as more and more of the First Order was shown the closer they got to the building they snuck through to get inside and finally feel some warmth on their bodies.

“Now where to?” Han asked as he basically threw his jacket off his body once the elevator doors opened, revealing just grey walls lined with white lights. Leia poked her head out the doors and kept her blaster raised as she looked from side to side down the halls. Gesturing for the group to follow her—which they all did without a second thought. All sneaking down the silent halls until she bumped into a pair of stormtroopers.

The white armored stormtroopers froze at first before they were smart to get their blasters out and speak on the current scene. “Hey! You’re not supposed to be here—” before they could finish, they were both flung to the wall on Luke’s left side, whilst one dropped to the ground as the other began to struggle for air. Luke looked over his shoulder to see Ben walking past him and slam the stormtrooper to the wall as he walked close to speak in an unfamiliar voice.

“I need something.”

——

“I still can’t see anything in this thing.” Luke complained as he moved the white helmet on his head slightly as they all snuck into a small room filled with computers.

“Insert the passcode.” Ben ordered sharply as he pointed the end of his lightsabers blade to the trembling stormtrooper. One who didn’t hesitate to do as commanded, making all the screens light up and causing Ben to hand the captured stormtrooper to Chewbacca as he began to search. Making Luke’s gaze narrow on the screen that blinked red as his daughter's name did not appear on any prisoner log, Ben typed again and again and nothing showed. It made Luke wonder only for a brief second if what he saw was wrong, but it was a fleeting second because he assured himself that she was alive. She had to.

And by the feelings Luke could now feel from Ben. The anger. The desperation. He needed her to be alive too. Why wouldn’t he? After all y/n and Jacen both gave him a chance when Luke doubted. The anchor Ben had to the lightside was hanging by a thread. Ready to break in half and be where he once was. Confused and afraid, tempted by the dark.

“Here.” Ben pointed out loudly, pointing to a picture of a man named Nomad. A man Luke recognized. Poe Dameron. “I found the tag of the ship they’re on. She’ll be in the same one.”

“Is that Poe Dameron? Shara and Kes’s kid?” Luke questioned as he kept studying the picture that was attached to the file.

Ben answered with a stiff nod, before the computers went off, “yes. He once was.” He answered bitterly—Luke blinked and he felt his eyebrows knot, he wanted to ask more, know more. He recognized the name “Nomad”. It was the name of the person who killed Jacen, but why was it attached to Poe Dameron? Why did Ben reference him in a past tense? Could he? Could he be the man under the mask? It wouldn’t make sense, he was best friends with Jacen, brothers basically. His parents were also both part of the rebel alliance...why would he turn against everything they went for? Was it their misfortunate deaths that sparked such a turn? The boy was an orphan at a young age, with both parents dead after the war. Was it because of their deaths? It couldn’t. Why?

Just as Luke was going to ask, an alarm blared around the room and echoed out in the hall, causing all heads to turn to the stormtrooper who’s one hand was under the desk, visibly trembling and fear spiking to the highest levels—“rebel scu—” just as the stormtrooper was going to finish his insult, Ben’s lightsaber impaled through its chest, instantly causing it to go limp and fall to the floor as Ben deactivated his blue lightsaber. Looking at the group with a silent look, moving past everyone to walk out of the door and see the red lights flash and shouts to be heard down halls, causing the group to hurry out the room and run towards where they had come from. Skidding to a stop to turn to another hall as a squadron surprised them.

Shots fired from the opposing team, just like they did from Leia, Han and Chewbacca. Shouts of commands to stop sounded too, but those were ignored and tuned out as the same beeping from Ben’s comm went off, sputtering out the same woman from before seconds later. This time looking more stressed than before and this time making Ben freeze as her words hit his ears.

“Ben! I just saw Jaina! I saw your sister.” She shouted urgently, causing Ben to gasp and grow visibly stiff, radiating off a feeling of relief but also fear and anger at her announcement.

“Where?” Ben urged.

“Lothal.” She replied quickly, her eyes drifting from Ben and something beyond her. “With….with The First Order. They have her. She went with them, but I know somethings wrong, she seemed wrong. I’m going after her...”

Ben turned to Luke with a glazed gaze, “it’s y/n. They have her. She’s alive.”

.

.

.

.

A/N- Now I know I know Kes is alive in canon, but for this story he is going to be dead just like Shara, okay? Okay....Sorry Poe :(

Tagged- @thescarletknight2014 , @softly-sad , @golden-guide​ , @abysshaven , @a-dorky-book-keeper , @kit-jpg , @mybarnesmyhero , @zoeyangels

(The ones in red it didn’t let me tag)

Permanent taglist- @ms-dont-care , @commondazy , @paintballkid711

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #starwars #fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #dark!poe x skywalker!reader #dark temptations #dark rey #dark poe x reader #dark force user poe #dark Poe #dark poe au #first order!poe x skywalker!reader #first order!poe #first order!poe x reader #Ben solo #luke skywalker #anakin skwalker #obi wan #Yoda #Rey #finn star wars #leia organa #han solo #chewbacca #Finn x Skywalker!reader

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Season 2 Summary (Volume 2: Ch 2 - 5)

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers from S2 🍒

Along with the update on 3 June 2021, the CN server released a “Plot Review” which contains bullet-point summaries of S2 :>

Volume 1 Summary: here

Your company is suspected of distributing prohibited “Small Syringes”. While being questioned by reporters, Gavin handcuffs you, and you cooperate

“I’ll escort her myself.”

In the STF interrogation room, you don’t flinch despite repeated questioning, because you’re very clear about what you have to do. When Gavin comes to the interrogation room, he is very straightforward and asks what you wish to talk to him about

[Extra tidbit from Cheri] The person who interrogates MC at first is Tang Chao, whose Evol enables him to detect lies. Afterwards, he gets scolded by Gavin because he wasn’t supposed to be there LOL

It turns out that he already guessed that you were the one who lodged the report. This way, you could talk to Gavin in an absolutely safe location, and also lure the actual middleman involved in the distribution of the drugs

He never doubted your innocence

Gavin plans to use this opportunity to purge the STF of traitors. Through the surveillance cameras of STF, you watch as Gavin organises all sorts of work in a systematic manner. In his spare time, he pays close attention to you

After investigating them one by one, Gavin finally lock onto one particular STF agent

While an STF agent is sending you out, you feel that the situation is odd. Just as you formulate your conclusion, you hear Gavin’s urgent voice

“Get away from that person!”

Gavin fires a shot, and the bullet whizzes towards you

“That person is F-45!”

F-45, the traitor, has an ability to swap objects. He has a companion. Not only did he swap positions with his companion, but he also swapped positions with a STF badge. He has been lying low, waiting for an opportunity to take action. Now, he swaps positions with you, leaving you to die

At imminent peril, Gavin expedites his Evol to stop that bullet, then uses this chance to strike down F-45, who attempts a sneak attack. The identity of the other traitor is also confirmed - he’s a member bearing the serial number U-2. His ability is using sound to create explosions

U-2 uses his Evol to create a series of explosions. You and Gavin are left deep in the scene of the fire

Knowing full well that fire has a significant meaning to Gavin, you can’t help but feel very worried. But Gavin is far stronger than you think. Because of himself, and because of you, Gavin doesn’t retreat in the large fire, and finally subdues U-2, handcuffing him. Unexpectedly, U-2 uses his own body to create an even greater explosion!

You and Gavin eventually obtain a narrow victory, while the two traitors die in the sea of fire

From F-45′s final memories, you discover that they chose to serve an anti-Evol criminal organisation called Gray Rhino. It seems that there are more complexities and darkness hidden behind this incident

Gavin is sent to the hospital, and your company is formally cleared of all suspicion regarding the distribution of prohibited drugs. More importantly, you and Gavin have reunited again

In your heart, you're certain that even though the both of you are in different camps, you have mutual trust in each other, walking shoulder to shoulder on an even more rugged path, heading towards a future which won’t be destroyed

Your subordinate from Black Swan tells you that the STF has found the production factory for the “Small Syringes”. They seize the opportunity to shift ten boxes away in secret, and you tell them to analyse it as soon as possible

At the same time, you decide to produce a show related to Evol after a series of discussions in the community spring up after what happened with the company before. This way, more people can pay close attention to and ponder over Evol

Lucien accepts an interview on the show

Just as you recall how he had once said similar words, you sense that there’s something strange about a mother berating her son along the roadside. Under the mother’s continuous provocation, the boy’s Evol is stimulated and goes completely out of control. The gravity in the surroundings changes

You notice that this child was once given a dose of the “Small Syringes” by his mother

Being rolled into the area where gravity is in chaos, Lucien protects you with a white protective screen. With your assistance, Lucien replicates the boy’s gravity Evol, averting a disaster

Worried about this mother-son duo, you inquire about what will happen to them in the future. Lucien doesn’t give you a direct answer. Instead, he asks you a question - would you choose to pursue this matter or stay far away?

“In that case, continue searching. I look forward to your answer.”

You can see a glint of admiration in Lucien’s eyes

Afterwards, in order to make it easier for you to rest, he takes you to a desolate train station. Perhaps you didn’t realise it, but the two of you have already entered a strange space

The two of you board the train. While conversing with Lucien, you verify the importance of CORE, and also make clear that whether or not there is Evol, the world will continue to advance, and will continue to progress

You fall asleep on the train. When you wake up, what meets your vision is a wheat field with heavy snowfall

You once again hear the conversation you shared with Lucien when you were a child, but you hear an overlapping echo. Lucien explains that the dreamworld seems to be a suppressed memory

The two of you open a door. You see that the world is divided and upside down

Lucien says that this world hasn’t been divided, but “folded” - things that appeared to be going backwards are perhaps undergoing another form of advancement

In the dreamworld, the way you’ve pushed yourself over the years and the negative emotions surge forth. Fortunately, Lucien creates a tiny safety zone for you

“You can walk slowly. Knowing that you’re always walking is enough.”

Even though it’s a dreamworld, Lucien also tells you that the future you want will definitely exist

As Lucien leaves the dreamworld, he once again confirms the sense of misalignment that he had sensed

He vaguely senses that he has tossed aside a very long past, and decides to begin research on this world

At this moment, he notices an invitation card in his drawer

“You’ve worked hard.”

Away from the shoal, in the depths of a boundless ocean, Lucien continually sinks, gradually closing his eyes

You send a report containing the components of “Small Syringes” to Victor. However, he doesn’t check his e-mail as quickly as he usually does

While you’re feeling puzzled, you receive shocking news -

The CEO of LFG has met with a car accident

You immediately rush to his ward. Fortunately, he isn’t in a serious condition

For his safety, you arrange for a bodyguard to protect him in the hospital, but Victor flatly rejects this

“Since you’re this worried, stay behind personally.”

As such, you stay in the ward next door, keeping watch on Victor

In the ward, you hand over the results of your investigation to Victor. The analysis shows that there are extremely small traces of CORE in the “Small Syringes”. Gray Rhino, which allowed the drugs to be distributed, has always been against Evol. Perhaps they intend to use the drugs to harm people who wish to obtain Evol. You can’t help but wonder how that person with inky ash eyes is related to everything

Late at night, you spot Victor along the corridor as he observes the city lights. He tells you that he’s looking for someone. Meeting his meaningful gaze, you recall the promise you once made to “find the him from the past”. During this conversation, he also tells you that joining BS was meant for a greater benefit, and to see how far one can go with an Evol ability

You receive news that the driver who caused the accident has regained consciousness, and you plunge into his memories. You discover that because he became bankrupt after a lawsuit with LFG, he participated in the Hunter Game

While attempting to escape the game, he witnessed his camaraderies getting killed in the process. Just as you wonder if he attacked Victor because he had no other choice, a shadow slips into his ward, and he doesn’t have good intentions

You give Victor an urgent signal while attempting to flee

At this dangerous moment, you receive a message from the “past” -

“Why are you in a daze? Run!”

You take action, following Victor’s commands in your mind as you dodge

The person is stalled in the lift, and you fall into Victor’s arms. He pulls you to hide in a nearby room, and you manage to escape

When you had sent the warning earlier, Victor also received a message from the “past”, which enabled him find you

After Victor is discharged, the two of you conjecture that the Hunter Game could have been designed to target Evolvers. The reason why people were silenced after trying to escape could perhaps be due to the mastermind wanting to hide something

After you leave, Victor receives a corgi plush that you sent. He senses that when it comes to things related to you, he will inexplicably become a little more amiable

There are many problems to resolve, and all these conflicts point towards one source: the Black Swan CORE. He decides to personally take part in the Hunter Game as an individual participating in matched betting

On a certain day, the helicopter lands on the roof of LFG. Like always, Victor clarifies information pertaining to work with his employees

“The remaining approvals for today are to be left with Goldman for now. I’ll make time to have a look.”

At a certian location, a sniper rifle takes aim at him. In the next second, the trigger is pulled

You receive an invitation to the Hunter Game. At this moment, Kiro gives you a call to ask if you’ve seen anything strange. You mention the Hunter Game

Kiro’s voice turns disjointed. A man with inky ash eyes suddenly appears. Your mind grows hazy. Just before you completely lose consciousness, you see the symbol of a stone tablet, which has thistles and thorns on it

When you reawaken, you discover that you’ve been roped into the Hunter Game

You do your best to defeat a player who is attacking you. Unfortunately, you meet another person who is better skilled than you. Just as you’re suppressed and losing all hope, you hear a familiar voice. The person in front of you is Kiro

After dealing with the player, he pastes a microchip on the metal necklace you’re wearing. This way, your movements won’t be tracked. He also guides you to a hole of a tree which is concealed very well

In this insane game, you can finally rest for a while

“In this game, the only way to accumulate points is to attack others.”

You look at him, telling him resolutely that the two of you must leave this place safely

Just as you wonder how Kiro managed to enter the arena, the metal necklace gives out a reminder: it’s time for tools to be circulated

The two of you witness as a player is killed while fighting for tools. From this, you discover that players can temporarily strengthen their own Evol by injecting themselves with drugs provided by the game

Through an analysis, the two of you conjecture that the mastermind is also searching for CORE

At this moment, the game announces a mission - you have turned into the target of every single player

Fortunately, due to the tacit understanding you share with Kiro, your coordination enables the both of you to shake off numerous players. Afterwards, the two of you accidentally discover a strange building. Closely compacted infrared rays surround the building, which might result in gunfire. Withstanding the stress, Kiro opens his mini laptop and resolves the crisis before him

“This is the magic of a superhero!”

After saying this, he pulls you into a run towards the forest. The sudden explosions leave you two falling next to a precipice

Kiro grips your wrist tightly. Noticing that he’s straining himself, you think of asking him to let go. Seeming to see through your intentions, he tells you not to give up, and that he has already made arrangements

You choose to believe him

Just as what Kiro says, someone pulls the two of you up the cliff just before Kiro completely exhausts his energy

Kiro finds a way to remove the metal necklace. He looks at you with a gentle gaze, but you feel that something’s wrong-

“Now, have a good sleep. When you wake up, don’t mention this game to anyone. Then... forgive me.”

His Evol puts you into a deep sleep

He removes your silver necklace, puts it on his own neck, then leaves by himself

When you wake up, you find yourself in an underground passage. Just as you think of finding the exit as quickly as possible, you hear Shaw’s voice from the other side of the wall

You attempt to call out to him, but receive no response. Thinking it was just a misperception, you accelerate your footsteps, continuing to search for the exit

On the other side, Shaw has been trying to call you. Because your phone is turned off, and his phone is out of battery, he’s unable to contact you

[Extra tidbit from Cheri] He also attempts to charge his phone with his Evol but fails LOL

He pinches a photograph of a stone tablet. A symbol “8″ is engraved on the stone tablet which is surrounded by thistles and thorns

At this point, you, who were innocently roped into the Hunter Game, arrive at the exit and meet Shaw

“I didn’t expect you to be the one here.”

Shaw sits on the railway tracks as he looks at you, an icy smile on his lips

You pause where you are, testing the waters and asking him what he’s doing here

His tone brims with disdain and alienation. Even though you don't understand what he’s saying, you can sense a certain danger, and there seems to be a misunderstanding between the two of you

In the next moment, accompanied by the roar of a train’s whistle, the sound of thunder completely fills the horizon

Volume 3 (Ch 6 - 9): here

More S2 content: here

A detailed translation of Gavin’s part is available here!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers

[unstoppableforcce]

the fight — part one

pairing: Poe Dameron x CMO! reader

how wonderful 1 2 3 4 5 | next part | masterlist

a/n: a short little series that I’ve had written for a while and will be posting in place of my regular posting this week bc of finals. as we all know, I love my how wonderful babies!!

“She’s not going to like it.”

As if he needed someone to tell him that. Especially, he glanced to his side to find the head of engineering, especially from people who had absolutely no business in his relationship. He scoffed louder than he intended to, just in case he didn’t already know he was overstepping, making sure to collide his shoulder with his as he moved around him.

“I mean you heard how she argued against the mission in the last strategy session—“

Poe kept walking, hoping he could avoid the conversation if he moved fast enough but clearly there was more vested determination in the boots of those who wanted in on his relationship than he anticipated as the head of engineering continued out of the council room right on his heels.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re right. Your girlfriend is just going to have to accept that—“

He stopped in his attempted escape, turning on his heel and placing his hands on his hips, stubbornly blocking the engineering head from following any closer. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s the chief medical officer and whatever your problem is, I have no idea why you’re talking to me about it.”

The man scoffed, using the few inches he had on Poe to try his hand at intimidation, “she sleeps in your room, Dameron, the two of you aren’t fooling anyone—“

It didn’t work. “This conversation is over—“

“Good luck telling her about the mission you just approved.”

Poe considered punching him right there and then, but he glanced to his watch and saw he only had a few hours left before the mission was going to take place, until he needed to be in his X wing flying the mission. He couldn’t waste his time trying to mediate with someone he didn’t owe an explanation to, he needed to find you, even if that someone was right.

‘Not going to like it’ was the favorable reaction from you, something else was much more likely.

He continued down the hall into the greater command center and grabbed the first communications officer he could find and asked them to find out where you were.

“She just checked out of the med bay, I can check down at the mess for her or—“

“No, that’s okay, thank you.” He nodded, he knew you where you were if not in the med bay, and he headed there quickly.

But once he got the door, he hesitated. It was the door to his own room, and he was stuck outside of it, unable to type in his code as the sentiment of the previous meeting lingered in his mind. All morning the council had been locked in strategy meetings, trying to figure out what the best way was to do something that no one in the entire resistance wanted to do.

Intelligence said there was a First Order hold out on a moon on the other side of the galaxy. Intelligence said it had weapons, it had food supplies, and it had medical supplies, all the things a dwindling resistance desperately needed, but the intelligence was shaky at best and the resistance wasn’t in good enough shape for such a leap of faith like this.

The strategy meetings had two very distinct sides, Leia’s direct decision council split perfectly down the middle of the conference table. Half arguing that maintaining their current course was going to get them obliterated by the First Order, they needed supplies and they needed them now if they wanted any hope of keeping themselves alive to even see the next battle. Poe was unsurprisingly on that side. But the other side, not necessarily spearheaded by you, still had you arguing a little bit louder than the rest of the side. That side, your side, arguing that risking lives at this very vulnerable point for the resistance was idiotic at best, negligent at worst.

It only got worse when the argument was made that if a mission was happening, there would need to be medical staff on the mission to help figure out what supplies on this fantastical base were needed back home and which weren’t. That wasn’t where your issue was though, your issue was when they told you it couldn’t be you.

When he told you it couldn’t be you...

He typed in the code quickly, sliding the door open and stepping in to hear the sound of the shower running in the refresher off to the side, your clothes strewn around the floor of the room like you had stripped them off the second you got through the door. It was tempting to do the same, but he managed to just pull off his jacket, sling it over the back of the chair and move, still clothed, to the refresher.

Sliding open that door, he settled on the sink, considering speaking up to let you know he was there, but he was also pretty sure you already knew.

The sound of the water shutting off almost as soon as he entered was signal enough for that.

“Pass me my towel?” You asked, sticking your hand over the door and he quickly complied, grabbing it off the rack and passing it to you, allowing the silence to flood over the two of you easily as you dried yourself off, still separated by the shower door.

Your hair was stuck damp to your head, clinging to your skin as you stepped out, releasing a wave of steam alongside you, flooding the small room and fogging up the mirror behind him immediately. His stare traced down in tandem with the beads of water running down your face and arms, but eventually diverted away entirely, falling to the floor at your feet.

“The council decided?” You asked, reaching past him for your moisturizing cream and rubbing your hands together with it as you stood directly in front of him in the cramped space, towel wrapped tight around your body.

All he could do was nod until he settled his breath and raised his stare to meet yours, “we leave in a few hours.”

“Taking Rep for medical?” He nodded again and you released a sigh with more heat than the steam that still hung around in the small room. “This is a mistake.”

“You made that clear earlier.”

Now it was your turn to scoff, echoing your distaste around the room, “yeah, and then I got pulled out and a decision got made without me—“

“It would’ve been the same decision if you had been there, Ify and Ain switched sides once you left.”

You scoffed again, reaching past him to slide open the door but he caught your arm and held you in place in front of him. And you let him, sticking your face right in his, “I should be going.”

“You can’t—“

“But you can—“

“It’s different and you know it’s different—“

Moving out of his grip, you emerged back onto the main room and he quickly followed, moving to the bed while you moved to the drawers for fresh clothes. He wasn’t necessarily watching you get dressed just for the kriff of it, he was just waiting for you to fight back and so far, you were just pulling on your pants as if you hadn’t just raised you voice to him.

“Babe—“

You held up a hand, telling him no without so much as looking him way as you dug your hand into the drawer, reaching for a uniform shirt and pulling it on over your head. So he did as he was told, and he waited until you were dressed and turned back to him.

“Tell me you didn’t say no because of this,” you gestured between the two of you, taking a step up to him as he reluctantly stood from the bed.

“Because of us?” He had to stop himself from scoffing directly in your face.

“Tell me it’s not because of us—“

“It’s not.” He argued back, “tell me you know it’s not, you know that I would never make work about us—“

“Then tell me why I have to send my second in command in my place?” You took another step forward, pushing your finger into his chest and definitely pulling a scoff from his lips this time around.

“Because you’re important.” He threw his hands up from his sides, chuckling directly into your face, “because you’re chief medical officer and your second isn’t you.”

“You’re Commander Poe Dameron, head of all pilots, you’re not exactly replaceable but you get to lead the mission and I get benched—“ the sarcasm weaved it’s way into your tone and you made no attempt to stop it.

He couldn’t exactly say he minded however, he was shooting back just as aggressively. “You don’t want us going on the mission anyways—“

“Yeah because it’s a suicide mission—“

“One you’re so eager to be on even if—“

“You’re going to get yourself killed—“

“I’m a good pilot—“

“You’re one of our only pilots, we have dwindling forces—“

“And overworked medical staff—“

Your communicator beeped on the desk behind you and you both stopped your aggressive argument and pulled back. Your hands moved to brush you damp hair back away from your face and his hands went to do the exact same with his as he tried to get his breath back.

Grabbing the communicator, you read the message and let another exhausted sigh take over your body as you sat back on the desk and he sat back on the bed across from you, neither of you wanting to break the silence yet again.

The worst part was that you were probably right, he was 90% sure that leading the mission was the right thing for him to do, but he was also pretty sure you were right to be so cautious and he could never call you wrong when you were practically begging for your life to be the one on the line instead of your second... it was complicated, it was all too complicated. And he hated shouting at you, he hated arguing with you, he hated being on the opposite side of.

He wanted to be next you you.

“There’s a problem in surgery, they need me back.” You set your communicator down and grabbed a tie to throw your hair up and away from your face.

“Okay.” He nodded, rubbing over his mouth and huffing out a breath.

“How long until you leave?”

He glanced back to his watch, “a little over three hours, I need to get out to the hanger and begin pre-flight.”

You nodded, snapping the communicator onto your belt and stepping back into your boots. He watched you carefully as you did, trying to think of something to say, some way to not leave it like this but he had nothing and you could see that as you turned back to face him, your hands on your hips.

“Will you come and find me before you leave?” You asked with barely a breath above a whisper, rubbing over your eyes again.

He nodded, getting up and walking the few steps towards you, reaching out for you hand. “You’ll be in surgery?”

“I don’t know, maybe, they can pull me out if I am—“

“Yeah.”

Even as the heat boiled between the two of you, you stepped through it and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, “come find me.”

He gave one last nod and you moved towards the door, but not before he could reach out and stop you one more time, his hand, rough callouses and all, catching yours and holding you in the threshold. His eyes searched yours for something, he wasn’t even sure what, but he held your stare anyways.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here.” He sighed. “I don’t like this.”

“We’re both on the council, it was bound to happen at some point...”

“I know.” He just didn’t think it would happen like this, he thought it would be a fight, one of you would win and that would be that. He didn’t think he’d be leaving on a mission that you didn’t want to happen in the first place or a mission that you wanted to be on just to make sure no one else was there instead... he wanted it to be easy. He had no reason to ever think it would be in the time of war, but he didn’t like this.

He pressed a real kiss to your lips as you hesitated in front of him and lingered with his nose pressed to yours as neither of you wanted to move.

“We couldn’t send you, you know that...”

“I don’t want anyone to go at all...”

He nodded against you and you pressed another kiss to his lips before pulling back and opening the door.

“Come find me.”

“Yeah.”

He wanted to be mad, but all he felt was pain, a burning pain in his heart as he watched you heard down the hall and checked his watch again.

Three hours.

#star wars #star wars imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #angst #poe x reader #how wonderful series #cmo reader

[nama-ri]

Deeper Than Rivers (ch2)

Next chapter! I promise the story isn’t all angst :’)

Summary: Namaari and Raya, two opposing forces who are more similar than they know. Together they’ll face the Drunn, find Sisu, and perhaps find themselves again too. A deeper look into Rayaari and the emotional turmoil they go through alone and together. Pre, during, and Post movie. 

No one batted an eye to the traveller in the red cloak, a large hat tilted over her face, casting a shadow over her features. Not to say she was unnoticed among the white clothes the natives wore. It was simply that it wasn’t odd to them in the market. Trade, though heavily inhibited by the Drunns, still happened. In Fact many Talon merchants and even a few Spine were also in the busy market place by the docks. Tail had stopped communication awhile ago, and it was rumored that they succumbed to the Drunn given their desert land.

Raya can’t say she missed the Tail Cheif. She was brash and selfish when they met before. A distinct memory of the tanned skin women shoving her aside in her greed to grab the Dragon Gem during the chaos that ensued after everyone poured into the temple. It seemed from the stories she heard that the chief's paranoia only grew when she got a piece of the gem shard. Though Raya thought she got what she deserved for her hand in breaking the world, an old buried part of her Heart panged at the thought of innocent Tail citizens perishing along with her.

Quickly she shoved that soft part of her back down. Through her experience as basically a rogue she had learned that there was no room to be soft. It pained her to kill her own innocence but the many experiences of betrayal over her travels made it clear it was a necessity. 

Speaking of betrayal. Raya pondered how she’d make it into the Fang palace where she was sure the scroll was. Her plan to pass as a random trader worked just as she thought. Of Course no one heard anything about the Heart princess after the night the Drunn had been released back into the world, so it was easy for her from the start to pretend to be someone else. Just another refugee from many of the destroyed villages of the land.

Passing by a few stalls set up, she considered her options. Her disguise would not pass in the well guarded palace. She would stick out like a sore thumb. She’d have to sneak in at night Raya realized as she glanced at the large stone buildings on the other side of the Fang island. “Oh toi” She mumbled under her breath taking in the smooth white walls. She was confident in her ability, confident in her years of hard living and her original training as a Gem guardian, but this was still gonna be a hard task to tackle. 

As she studied the palace, leaning in the shade of an alleyway something caught her eye. A familiar undercut. 

“No way” Raya was dumbstruck for a second. No way it was that easy to find Namaari. Furthermore, she had kept the same hair style for 4 years?! The thought of the Fang princess cutting her hair to match her Mother was amusing as a child but it was even more funny now. Raya couldn’t help but smile at that thought. “What a mommy’s girl” she snorted, following the figure discreetly. Of course she knew she was just as much of a daddy’s girl herself but that was before, Raya thought bitterly. Her mind quickly growing sour again.

Yep that was definitely Namaari. Wow. 

When Raya finally caught up to the other princess, though still far enough to not be noticed in the crowd, she had to physically stop her jaw from dropping open. What the hell?? She was taller than her! 

That was not the thought she should be having but her child-like pettiness flared. Namaari wasn’t the same thin girl she met and beat in the Dragon Temple 4 years ago. No, that Binturi was now taller and, Raya noticed reluctantly, buffer. 

Raya’s eyes followed the girl, no warrior, before her. Taking in her broad shoulders bared for the world to see in her sleeveless top. The strength in her smooth steps and air of power as she moved forward nearly parting the crowd as she went. Raya was gawking really, a slight blush on her face before she could stop herself. 

As if sensing the eyes on her, Namaari looked back over her shoulder and Raya barely ducked behind a barrel in time. Seeing Namaari’s body was one thing, her face was another. Peeking from behind her hiding spot she just caught the Fang’s sharp jaw and intimidating eyes set in an impassive face. Gone was the bright eyes or cute face she remembered. Something struck her heart at that, it was a mirror of her own loss.

‘Okay so she grew up, no biggie’. Raya tried to convince herself moving from the barrel as Namaari turned back and continued her walk. ‘She grew up hot’, a small voice echoed her previous thought in her head.

Wait a second hot?

Well sure attractive, anyone in their right mind would be able to see but that was besides the point, Raya had seen plenty of attractive people. She was attractive too if she did say so herself. Unlucky for her Namaari just so happened to be hot. Whatever, didn’t change a thing. But the muscles, that might make a fight harder if it came to it. Yes, it was perfectly natural to be staring at the Fang like this, she was just sizing the other up. Nothing else. Raya continued to trail Namaari, though from a far greater distance now as she revised her plan. Maybe she can ambush the Fang princess? Get her to take her to the scroll. That was far easier than scaling the high walls of the palace and searching randomly in a dangerous place.

As she was lost in thought on how to get Namaari alone she spotted another Fang warrior, she guessed by their dress, walking up rather quickly to the princess. 

“Shouldn’t be- market. -ought to get back” Were the only words she caught over the chatter of the market. Oh no, she’ll lose Namaari if she decides to head back right now. Lucky for her, Namaari looked just as annoyed to be told to leave. Raya moved closer to catch what they were saying.

“I won’t be long Atitaya, it will be fine” Namaari assured in a commanding tone, though it was undercut as she rolled her eyes like a child. The other warrior, Atitaya apparently, just huffed.

“Whatever you say princess” Atitaya bowed, making the younger girl frown, ears getting red. 

“Stop, oh dragons, I told you that wasn’t necessary” Namaari whispered to the warrior in front of her hushed and hurriedly. 

“I know, I know” The formality broken, Atitaya slung an arm over Namaari’s shoulder laughing quietly. Well that was a little shocking, Raya’s eyebrows shot up as she watched the interaction. From what she knew about Fang, they were militaristic and strict in their formalities to a fault. Cold, she remembered hearing from the villagers of Heart back when they were still alive. She had actually seen it herself throughout the day as she watched guards in the marketplace. This outward show of affection was weird. Especially weird as it included Namaari who Raya had chalked up to being the representation of every bad Fang stereotype. 

“You always tease me” Namaari grumbled. As the pair continued on the way. “I told you it’s embarrassing and unneeded out of formal settings” That just made the older woman smirk. 

“Well you never know who could be watching” a mischievous smile on her face “like maybe your mother” Namaari stiffened noticeably at that. Noticing the sudden rigid posture the general slowed her pace removing her arm from the clearly uncomfortable girl's shoulders “Hey hey, it’s okay she’s busy in a council meeting right now” Atitaya back tracked. 

Atitaya, though not actually family, may as well be. Orphaned by the famine that plagued Fang when she was 17 she was taken into the royal palace and given a second chance. She will always be grateful to Chief Virana for that, but she couldn’t say she entirely agreed with how she treated Namaari. Forcing her to grow up faster then maybe need be.

After the death of her husband, the Chief in her grief had shuttered away all her emotions, throwing herself into her work and people. No one could say she didn’t love anything, she loved her people. She was of course admired greatly by all of Fang for her steadiness in the face of starvation and all other forms of destruction. No she was an amazing Chief.

But Namaari.

She loved Namaari, but since the loss she could never really allow herself to fully show it. Now her tenderness only showed through a strong squeeze on the shoulder or a compliment given in an emotionless voice. It was sad, Atitaya thought.

She remembered the day she found the Fang princess, still only 10 at the time, in the serlots pen weeping silently among the large cats. She had felt odd at the time, not knowing what to do as a young soldier finding her princess in such a state. But she still sat with the child, not being able to just leave her, letting her cry it out. When she finally asked what was wrong, Namaari had only replied in a soft whimper that she felt she was all alone. 

The General, then a soldier, knew Namaari loved her dad and was hurting since he died. But as the young Fang continued to speak. It dawned on Atitaya that Namaari has been cut deeper than anyone thought previously of the often quite child. With the other children either too scared or resentful to hang out with her, and her own mother to preoccupied in work she was left to deal with her heavy emotions alone.

Years passed, and Atitaya rose through the ranks. As she did she also  became sort of an older sister figure to Namaari. Someone to lean on, though they didn’t show their friendship too much publicly. She watched with a sad heart as the princess took on more than she should have, striving and surpassing the high standards of even her mother. But in the process hiding her pain away to battle alone in order to not seem weak. 

They didn’t speak about Namaari problems as much as she grew older, but Atitaya still knew the other was struggling with a host of emotions despite her strong facade. Just like back in that serlot pen, except Namaari wouldn’t let her in this time. Atitaya was there since the beginning and so she knew why the younger Fang tensed at just the mention of her mother. 

“Hey lets just find those flowers, then we can head back before the Chief even notices” she quickly said trying to cheer up the Fang princess, who took a second to relax again. 

“Yeah” Namaari finally replied and began walking again, this time with Atitaya following a little behind. An invisible rift between them that only grew it seemed. 

‘Flowers? What the dragons?’ Raya thought, witnessing the short interaction but having no clue of the undertext. What exactly was all this about?

#rayaami #rayaari #rayaari fic #raya and the last dragon #raya #sisu #namaari #raya and namaari #ch2