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mechaknight-98 · 7 days

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Many Paths Few Resolutions (NSFW) FT Yujin

Authors Note: An Ask I thought would be interesting to do but wanted to do my spin on. If you see a nod or an easter egg you recognize it is probably intentional

Officer's Log March 4 22,003,456 " Begin Log: The Federation has recently appointed Officer Yujin Ahn as my second-in-command following my defense of her at the tribunal regarding her potential execution. While I stand by my decision, the weight of responsibility over her causes me great distress. I feel ill-equipped to handle her unique condition as a joined symbiont, especially considering her previous host's infamy as a warlord, which greatly troubled the Council. At times, I find myself questioning whether I should have left her to her own devices. Yet, I know deep down that such thoughts are rooted in my own selfish concerns. I made the right choice, and any trepidation I feel stems from my own shortcomings. End Log."

Captain Arthur Sisko is a well-known figure within the Council. His leadership in navigating his ship and crew through the war-torn Klaxosaur quadrant has earned him widespread recognition, making him the youngest captain in Council history. Alongside his accomplishments, he tirelessly advocates for improved relations between core and tertiary planets under Council jurisdiction. Despite his vocal criticism of Council bureaucracy, he remains one of their most esteemed members. Recently, his decisive action saved the Council from potential annihilation at the hands of the Uru-kai Warlord Majin-ahn, whom he defeated in an honorable duel to the death.

This victory resulted in the symbiont leaving Majin and bonding with Yujin. Despite the Council's concerns that Yujin would follow in Majin's footsteps, Captain Sisko fought vehemently to spare her from execution, ultimately securing her position as vice-captain aboard his warship, the Altruist.

As Captain Sisko concluded his preparations for his inaugural voyage as captain, a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," he called out, adjusting his uniform with precision.

"Captain, Vice Captain Yujin reporting for duty," Yujin announced as the door swung open. Captain Sisko's gaze meandered to Yujin. Despite her previous host's volatile temperament and nature, Sisko found himself enchanted by the Uru-Kai. her short hair and big soft eyes drew him in and he found himself reminded of his childhood friend Tendi. He wondered what happened to her.

"At ease, Vice Captain. Please, call me Arthur. We're peers here," Sisko replied warmly. Yujin nodded, entering with an endearing smile. Both she and the symbiont had developed a fondness for the young captain. Hailing from the Periphery planet Sentai-V and sharing immortality with her symbiont, Yujin regarded Captain Sisko as an equal.

Unbeknownst to him, he had crossed paths with three hosts of the symbiont before his Academy Combat Teacher Ayami, Majin, whom he faced in singular combat, and Tali, the symbiont's first host, whose heroic spirit left an indelible mark.

"So, Yujin, I haven't had the chance to learn much about you. Why did you join the fleet?" Sisko inquired.

"My planet, Uru-Kai, was being coerced into war by Majin, and I wanted to put an end to it. But it seems my worries were unfounded, with the fleet under the command of such an accomplished and handsome officer," Yujin replied with a playful smile.

"Yujin-ahn, while I appreciate the compliment, I believe it's best to maintain a strictly professional relationship," Sisko responded, his tone gentle yet firm. Yujin smirked in response.

"Okay, one thing though, is it okay if I still call you Arty?" Yujin asked, and Captain Sisko froze in surprise.

Yujin's question hung in the air, a thread of curiosity wrapped in familiarity that tugged at the edges of Captain Sisko's consciousness. He froze, his mind racing through the corridors of memory, searching for the connection that Yujin's words hinted at.

"Arty," Yujin persisted, the name a gentle prod against the barriers of time and space.

Sisko's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as recognition dawned. "Only five people in the entire universe would know to call me that," he murmured, the weight of years and lifetimes settling upon his shoulders.

He fixed Yujin with a piercing gaze, his voice low and measured. "I am going to ask this once. Vice Captain Yujin-Ahn, did you have a host by the name of Tendi-Ahn?"

There was a pregnant pause, the air thick with anticipation, before Yujin's response shattered the stillness.

"Took you long enough to recognize me," Yujin quipped, their tone laced with a hint of amusement. "Although I don't blame you, since my skin isn't green anymore."

Sisko's blood ran cold and hot simultaneously, a rush of conflicting emotions coursing through him like a tidal wave. The first thought through Captain Sisko's mind was relief that quickly morphed into immense worry all of his fears of another Majin were gone and replaced with the obvious Conflict of Interest that Having his first Love being his second in command.

"I am unsurprised that you grew to such Heights. you were always more than capable in whatever you applied yourself to," Yujin flirted with her Captain. Memories of better times flooded her brain as did the fight between "her", and the Sentairian. it combined to make a very unique form of arousal that only served to further her desire for the captain. Unsure how to proceed Captain Sisko did what believed was right and began the procedures of reporting to the proper authorities the situation. When Officer Yujin saw what her Captain was doing she was both impressed (Majin's consciousness) and disappointed (Yujin's consciousness).

"You betray your feelings for the for the Fleet?" Yujin asked intrigued.

Captain Sisko nodded before responding, "Despite my mixed feelings towards you. Our crew deserves a level-headed Captain and I can't be that with you around."

Yujin smiled and before she could stop herself she said, "See a man of conviction. A true Warrior through and through. Not an autocrat who's only looking out for his own skin. No wonder you were deemed worthy by Embercleave and able to defeat me." as Yujin spoke she drew closer to Sisko. Memories flooded between and around them as she caressed his face. her eyes shone as they reflected in his.

"See that's what I always liked about you. You always do the right thing, even if you don't want to," Yujin-Ahn said as she stared into Captain Sisko's eyes before taking his lips into hers. Sisko couldn't help himself and gave in to his body's wild demands. Yujin stripped the officer of his uniform and hers as the two shared a Volcanically Violent kiss that made their mating molten. Yujin's idle fingers found their destination as they meandered down to Captain Sisko's cock.

"Oh Captain, my Captain! You're so hard for me. I should do something about that," Yujin cooed as she lined Arthur's cock with her snatch. She gently pulled him into her. Sisko could only feel relief as he entered the young lady, as if years of tension finally released. which in a way were. Yujin moaned as she helped Sisko bottom out in her.

"God you're so big," She moaned into his ear. Yujin's face held an evil smile knowing she was about to "Corrupt" the "Incorruptible" Captain Sisko. She relished giving him something he "earned" in her eyes.

"Go on fuck me. you know you want to," Yujin Ahn moaned. Captain Sisko overwhelmed by his own biology pushed her down to the ground of his chambers and "filled" her request. At first, his movements were reflective of his outward persona. Slow, Methodical, and calculated. However, as he fell deeper into Yujin's web he found himself losing control. His thrusts became wilder and more erratic as he chased his own release.

"God Yujin. you feel so good," Arthur Sisko moaned completely lost in lust.

Yujin smiled as she replied smugly, "Why of course we were destined to be together eventually," Her walls and pussy were gentle to the weary warriors. Her body tight and firm was a reprieve from all the chaos of the Fleet and the galaxy's conflicts he had faced. as their coupling grew more intense the two found themselves eye to eye. Yujin smiled as she saw the unhinged man before her. A fire she once saw when he was a child. An untamed spark that threatened to burn everything down flickered in his eyes.

"Yes, Captain. give into that fire. let it consume you. let it guide you. You earned it," Yujin moaned as her Captain exploded in her. She smiled as her release also hit her.

When their rationality came back both returned to their personas before cleaning up and getting ready for the shift. on the way to the ship, Yujin asked Captain Sisko this,

"So Captain what are my first orders?"

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #yujin smut #yujin izone #ive yujin #ahn yujin

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danikamariewrites · 7 months

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Hiiii :) I love your work so much💙

Can I ask for Xaden Riorson x reader where reader find out she pregnant and doesn't know how to react or how to tell Xaden. Also her dragon is extra protective of her and won't let anyone near her, especially Dain🙄

Unexpected

Xaden x reader

A/n: I now officially need Xaden in this scenario

Warnings: angst and fluff

You had avoided Xaden like the plague yesterday. You weren’t ready to face him with the news the healer gave you last night. You’re pregnant and it scared the shit out of you.

The healer told you to avoid stress and anxiety because it’s not good for the baby, but that’s all that surrounded you. A million questions ran through your mind as you picked at your breakfast. How will Xaden react? What will happen when you give birth? Will you be kicked out of the riders quadrant?

You could feel Xaden’s eyes on you which made you clench your jaw even more. Liam gently placed a hand on your shoulder and you jump. You also hear Cadmus growl in your mind at the surprise touch. “Sorry, just…are you ok? You seem, not yourself.” “I’m fine,” you grumble out.

Liam opens his mouth to say something else but you shove up from the table, stomping out of the dining hall. When you get to the flight field you see Cadmus is already waiting for you. Some of your other squad members are also mingling on the field as well as Dain who’s looking over his flight plan for today.

You try to hide behind Cadmus hoping he doesn’t notice you. Cadmus must’ve noticed Dain walking over because he lowered his head and let out a deep snarl. You just wanted to get through lessons and figure out how to tell Xaden.

When you landed back on the flight field Xaden was standing at the edge of the field waiting for you. You put on a big smile and tan up to him like everything was normal. “Hi baby,” you fling your arms around his neck. Xaden reluctantly wraps his arms around your middle, patting your back.

“Hi sweetheart.” He whispers and pulls away from you. You tilt your head at his unreadable face. “Let’s talk. Wanna go to my room.” You slowly nod as he takes your hand.

Xaden closes his door as you sit on his bed, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers. Xaden strides across the room, leaning against his desk and crossing his arms. “What’s goin’ on y/n? You’ve been avoiding me and don’t deny it. I thought we could tell each other everything.”

You could see the hurt in his beautiful brown eyes. His eyebrows creased, casing his scar to crinkle. You felt a lump forming in your throat as tears started to burn your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you choke out through your tears.

A small sob escapes your lips and you cover your face with your hands and just let everything out. “I’m sorry Xaden. I just don’t…didn’t know how to tell you. I’m just so scared.” Xaden climbed onto the bed, pulling you to sit in his lap, cradling you to his chest.

Xaden rubs his hand up and down your spine, shushing you calmly. “It’s ok sweetheart. It’s ok. Whatever it is we can get through it, ok.” You lift your head from his chest wiping at your eyes. “Ok,” you breathe out. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

He holds your face in his large hands, rubbing his thumbs at your tear stained cheeks. “I promise y/n. I could never be mad at you.” You nod, closing your eyes. Letting out a shaky breath you finally find your voice to tell him. “I went and saw a healer the other night. I’m pregnant.”

You can feel Xaden stop breathing for a moment. He hugs you to his chest again. “Everything is going to be ok, y/n. I will be with you no matter what you decide to do.” “Thank you,” you whisper and cling to him.

“I don’t want to decide right now though.” “That’s ok,” Xaden says quickly. “We’ll figure it out sweetheart.”

#xaden riorson fourth wing #fourth wing fluff #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #xaden fourth wing #xaden fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fanfic #xaden x reader #xaden riorson #xaden fanfic #xaden riorson x reader #Xaden x you #Xaden riorson x you

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callsign-rogueone · 1 month

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faking it - s.h.

Sawyer Henrick x healer!reader When Sawyer's friends hear that an infantry guy has been bothering you, they suggest an unconventional way to get him to leave you alone. words: 1.7k 🏷: Iron Flame spoilers in future chapters, feminine healer reader who was childhood friends with Sawyer (no pronouns used here, but future chapters will use she/her), mentions of needles (one immunization), mentions of harassment from an original character, Sawyer has a huge crush on you, and his entire squad ships it, fake-dating trope. here begins the story of Sawyer and Peach! I hope y’all like her 🥺

You fight the urge to yawn as you continue to restock the bandages and straighten things up for the day — you didn’t sleep well, and you’ve never been a fan of the early mornings that the war college requires.

It could be worse, you tell yourself. You could still be working nights like you did your first year. That was even more exhausting.

There’s a soft knock on the doorframe. “Is Cadet Lowen working today?”

Your classmate bristles, drawing herself up to her full height, but it isn’t very intimidating— she’s even smaller than Violet. “Who’s asking?”

You laugh, setting the box down and smoothing out the creases in your pale blue robes. “It’s okay, Sarah. He’s a friend.”

He gives her a disarming smile, but she still eyes him with suspicion for a few seconds before she disappears into the other room.

You instantly start checking him over for injury, but it’s too hard to see anything under all that black fabric and leather.

He smiles. “I’m fine. I just came to give you this. I don’t know if they’re still your favorite, but…”

You take the small paper bag he’s holding, that cute little concerned frown quickly turning into a grin as you see the blueberry muffin inside — just like your mom used to make. “Thank you. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. Just making sure you’re taking care of yourself,” he answers, blushing. There’s a moment of silence before he starts to bail out. “I know you’ve been busy, let me get out of your hair-”

You don’t want him to leave.

“Did you get your flu shot yet?” you interrupt.

He laughs at your spontaneity. “I did not,” he answers truthfully.

You put the bag down, moving to go wash your hands. “Sit.”

“I brought you the perfect muffin, and you still want to stick me with a needle?” he asks.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “It’s for your own good, and the good of the quadrant. Unless you can’t take a little pinch…”

He straightens up a bit, scoffing. “Of course I can.”

You smile. You know exactly how to get these army boys in line. Pride is the biggest motivator they’ve got; they’re always eager to prove that they can handle whatever task at hand.

“Your full name and date of birth please, sir?” you ask, picking up a clipboard.

He knows you know it, but he humors you anyway — it’s cute seeing you in nurse mode. “Sawyer Henrick, July 15th, 612.”

You write it down as he unbuttons his shirt, pulling one arm out of its sleeve.

Your heart races at the glimpse of the rider’s relic spanning his back; a swath of bright red contrasting with his pale skin. You certainly don’t remember him being this strong, either — all that crazy shit they make riders do has paid off, you suppose.

You take a moment longer than appropriate to get the tension out of the muscle before making the injection and smoothing a bandage over the skin. “All done.”

“Do I get a sticker?” he asks, clearly joking.

You rip your eyes away as he does the buttons back up, turning to wash your hands again. “Fresh out, sorry. I’ll give you a rain check.”

You need to get him the hell out of here before your classmates start asking questions, and before he melts the rest of your brain. “Thank you for the muffin.”

“Thank you for the flu shot.”

You can’t help but smile at him. “I really missed you, you know. I’m glad our paths crossed again.”

“I missed you too, peach.” There’s a pause as he works up the courage. “Do you want to come to town with me and my squadmates on Saturday? They all really liked you.”

While the land-nav exercise hadn’t gone according to plan at all, you’d still enjoyed your time with them. “I’d like that.”

“Alright,” he says with that shy smile you’ve missed so much. “Meet you at the front gates around three?”

“Sounds like a plan. Now scoot,” you prod gently. “I’m sure everyone is wondering where you ran off to.”

He glances at the clock — he’s definitely going to be late for battle brief, but the scolding from Dain will be worth every minute.

He gives you one last soft smile before he leaves, one you’ll be thinking about all day.

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

Sure enough, he finds you waiting outside at three o’clock sharp.

It’s been years since he’s seen you in civilian clothes. You look exactly how he remembers you, only somehow even more beautiful. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, he supposes.

You’ve swapped out the healers’ robes for something more fitted and more seasonally appropriate, a new pair of denim pants and a sleeveless light purple tunic. You’d even let your hair down for the occasion, leaving it out of the usual no-nonsense style you’re required to wear during your shifts.

Him and his friends are all dressed in their usual solid black. “I guess I didn’t get the memo,” you jest.

Violet smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s nice to see some color every now and then.”

You bring a hand up to swat away a fly, and Rhiannon’s eyes widen. “You guys are allowed to paint your nails?”

“There’s all kinds of rules about what colors and how long they can be, but yeah. I do them every Sunday afternoon. It makes me feel pretty, even with those terrible robes on,” you laugh.

Sawyer pushes down a remark about how you’re always pretty, clearing his throat instead. “Everyone ready?”

There’s a chorus of agreement from the squad.

It isn’t long before you’re all sitting around a table at the tavern, laughing over stories from your years at the school. “And then I told her that if she wanted to act like that, she should-”

The door opens, the small bell hung on it jingling. Everyone watches you fall silent, pressing your lips together and shrinking yourself as small as you can until the group of infantry passes. They head off to the bartop, out of sight, and you finally let out the breath you’d been holding.

“Are you okay? You look like a sheep that just saw a riot of dragons walk by,” Ridoc says, but there’s no humor in his tone.

You shift in your seat for a moment, uncomfortable, but the way your new friends are all looking at you with genuine concern has you admitting the truth.

“I stitched up the blond — James — a month ago, and now he thinks we’re soulmates or something. He keeps showing up at the infirmary with his friends, asking me on dates, and I keep turning him down, but he won’t take no for an answer. I’ve considered faking my own death just to get him to leave me alone,” you joke, but it’s obvious that you don’t find it funny. “It’s starting to freak me out.”

Violet frowns. “Have you talked to Nolon about it?”

“I have, but we can’t refuse care to anyone, so we’ve just been saying I’m busy and having the other girls deal with him, but they shouldn’t have to do that. I’ve tried everything. He just doesn’t seem to understand that I’m not interested.”

“Maybe not everything,” Rhiannon offers.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, those kind of guys won’t listen to you, but they will listen to another dude. They need to see another guy on your arm, because they don’t respect you as a person, but they will respect another man’s claim to you.”

Everyone looks at her, quizzical.

“I’m not saying it’s right,” she says, putting her hands up in defense, “I’m just saying it’s true. Get yourself a boyfriend, or a fake one, even, and he’ll back off, guaranteed.”

You chew your lip, pensive. “That might work. But I’ve been too focused on studying to go on any dates. I don’t know anyone who would be willing to…”

“Look to your left,” Ridoc offers dryly, taking a sip of his drink.

You glance over at Sawyer. Are they really suggesting…?

“It’s a logical choice,” Violet adds, shrugging. “You two already know everything about each other.”

You can’t quite read the look on his face, but it’s clear from his reddened cheeks that he’s uncomfortable. You shake your head quickly. “I couldn’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me do anything. I’d be helping you, because I care about you, and because that guy’s a fucking creep.”

You’ve never heard him sound so firm before.

Your gaze drifts back to the bartop, where James is still sitting with his friends, several empty glasses in front of them. You’ve never seen him drunk before, but you know it can’t be pretty.

He laughs, too loudly, likely at some crude joke his friend had made, clapping the other boy on the back.

You wince, sinking deeper into the worn upholstery and praying they don’t see you, but you stick out in the crowd of riders and infantry — you’re the only person in the room who isn’t wearing all black, save for the bartenders.

“Breathe,” Sawyer coaxes, laying a hand on your knee beneath the table. It simultaneously soothes your anxiety and gives you butterflies, a feeling you can’t really describe.

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Sorry,” you manage, offering them a weak smile. “Didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ridoc says gently. “you’re one of us now, and we look out for our own.”

“He’s right,” Sawyer adds. “I promise I will do everything I can to get this guy gone, but I don’t want to cross any boundaries. We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. You’ll be one hundred percent in control here, okay?”

You nod, entranced by the softness in his eyes as he looks over at you. “Okay,” you agree quietly.

“Attagirl,” he praises, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

You think your heart might give out.

“That’s actually really believable,” Violet comments with a soft smile, snapping you out of your train of thought and reminding you that you have an audience.

You tear your eyes away from Sawyers’, picking your drink back up. He moves his hand from your leg, resting his arm on the back of your chair as the conversation resumes, Ridoc bringing everyone back into a light mood again with another terrible joke.

This could work, you decide, but it could also go horribly, terribly wrong.

#fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #sawyer henrick #sawyer henrick x reader #Sawyer and Peach #mine

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ameliablakesblog · 7 months

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Cross The Line: Part One

You shouldn’t have done it. You should have never applied for the position. You made a mental note to remove all the alcohol from your apartment that night. There was no way you would be able to work so closely to him.

Lando Norris, the famous Formula One driver. Up until today you used to be a big fan of him, a massive fan of his driving ability and his online platform Quadrant. When you were told the role would include working closely with him you thought it was incredible news, until now.

“The only reason he hired her was because she’s fit, she’ll just be in the way all the time- get rid of her”.

Lando was stood in the conference room talking to some guy. Presuming from the way he was stood the guy was involved in the hiring process, as he stood calmly listening to Lando ranting away about you. Unbeknownst to them, you were hiding at the entrance, about to go in to informally introduce yourself to Lando, until you heard that comment. Hurt struck you. You had only just left a job because of how self-conscious the employers made you. The main reason you were drunk that night and applied for this job was because you were sick of feeling so stupid and worthless. And before he had even met you, Lando had already made an assumption which had left you feeling how you had felt before.

You cleared your throat and stepped into the room, making your presence known. Lando and the other guy turned. You noticed Lando look at you from head to toe before turning back slightly, giving you a hostile approach.

“Ah Y/N! There you are! I haven’t met you before- my name is Nick and I work within the recruitment department of Mclaren. I’ve just brought your new contract which we thought now would be a perfect time for you and Lando to go through it and establish how closely you’ll be working together over the rest of the season. Once you’ve finished, come find me in my office and we will get all your IDs sorted, okay?”

Nick smiled warmly at you, and you returned it. At least he was nice to you. Nick faced Lando briefly as he was leaving, “It’s out of my control Lando, we want the best for this team, and she’ll help you achieve this. Be nice.”

Nick swiftly leaves the room, leaving you alone with Lando. He continues to stare at the door where Nick had left from. You stare at him and consider your options. You could either try and be nice and see if you can change his already-set opinion of you, or you could just read the document as quickly as possible to leave as quick as possible. You decide to go with the first option and put a smile on your face before walking over to him.

“Hi Lando, I’m Y/N. It’s so nice to meet you” You stretch your arm out before you for him to shake and yet he just stares at your hand as if it was foreign to him.

“Hey, let’s just get this over with” dismissing you, Lando turns to the table with the contract on and takes a seat, leaving you stood there gaping at him.

How bloody rude! You sigh and take a seat next to him, pretending to not notice Lando shift himself, so he was sitting as far away from you as possible in his seat.

The document was a standard contract, you read through it together only making small comments when you ask questions, or he just huffs at certain phrases. By the end of it, rules have been set. To say Lando wasn’t happy about them was an understatement of the century. You looked over at him and his jaw was set, his eyes fixed on anywhere, but you and he looked ready to flee from this room at any second.

You sigh and decide to offer one last olive branch to him. “Well, I think that’s everything. I know this might not be what you want but I think we’ll work well together. I have experience which I can bring to the table and hopefully we’ll make a great team together”.

He finally looks over at you. He blinks a few times before rolling his eyes and looking at the contract.

“Alright, there’s no managers here so you can chill with the fake interview crap. Get Liam to give you my contact number, bye”.

With that he leaves. You sit there staring at the door, tears threatening to escape. Well, if that’s how he’s going to be, you will treat him the same.

Let the games begin Lando.

#landonorrissmut #lando norris x reader #landonorris #alex albon #landoscar #lando norris angst #formula one x re #formula one #formula 1 #reading #romance #writing

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angstywaifu · 3 months

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The Lost Sister - Part 4

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time. Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: We all know I couldn't not throw some Imogen tension in there. I do apologise if the fighting stuff isn’t good, I found it hard to convey what I wanted but I think I got there in the end. I also went on a binge write yesterday and have a few parts written up. Let me know if you want to be on the tag list at all. The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

I squint into the early morning sun with the rest of the quadrant, listening to the names of the seventy one people who did not make it across the parapet yesterday. Violet and Rhiannon who are next to me as they read out the name ‘Dylan’. He must have been someone they had met before crossing the parapet.

Today we are all dressed in riders black, with a single silver star and fourth wing patch signalling my year and wing. As I look around, us first years did not waste any time in altering our uniforms to suit us. I don’t think I see a single stock uniform in the crowd.

As the sun shifts in the sky I am able to see properly. I feel a familiar feeling and look up to see Garrick staring at me from his place atop the stairs of the rotunda next to Xaden. Despite what they said last night, I had not seen either of them again that night. Clearly whatever they spoke about took longer than they thought. When our eyes meet he smiles at me but it quickly disappears as I feel a different feeling wash over me. I turn my head to see Imogen glaring at me. A second year in my squad. I had met her a few times during the rebellion, but I never knew her well.

“Why does it look like she wants to kill you already?” Violet whispers to me as she looks between Imogen and I.

Imgoen glances over at Violet before turning her head back to the front of the Rotunda as they finish reading out the death roll for the day.

”I wish I knew.” I whisper back as Dain starts telling us to head to our class and something about remembering our schedule.

She nods her head before leading the way to our first class of the day which is somewhere on the fourth floor of the academic wing. I really should have taken better note of my schedule.

By the time we get to the gym after lunch, I feel like my brain is about to explode with the amount of information I’ve taken in today. But I am thankful for the training Melgren had given me over the years. Most of it was in the books I had already read. I just had to apply it in a different scenario. His training really had prepared me for the riders quadrant. Almost as if he was setting me up for success. As we walk into the gym, most of the second and third years are already here and waiting for us. I immediately meet Garrick and Xadens eyes across the room, as if they were waiting for me to walk in. I follow my squad and stand around one of the mats as Professor Emetterio walks onto the mat. As he turns to face the crowd his eyes meet me and widen, almost as if he was shocked to see me here despite having been a part of some of my training with Melgren. Obviously Melgren had not mentioned his intentions with my training or who I really was. His eyes wander to the mark on my neck and now exposed arm with a questioning look. This doesnt go unnoticed by Garrick or Xaden either who look concerned at the brief interaction between us.

As each match ends, Emetterio calls up the next pair. Randomly selecting people from different years and wings. The only ones we are truly safe from are our own squad mates. Squad mates are not allowed to kill each other. A sickening crack rings around the room as Jack Barlowe snaps the next of a first year whose name I have not yet learnt. The only reason I know Jack’s is due to Violet and Battle Brief earlier today. A class where I had felt Garrick’s eyes constantly on me, but had refused to meet. Emetterio points a finger at Imogen, and my heart drops thinking I will be picked next. Her eyes had also been on me all day, and not in a good way. This girl had it out for me. Lucky for me but unlucky for Violet, I am not picked. But Violet is no match for her. Not even a minute later Imogen has broken her arm. Dain is at her side and taking her to the Healers Quadrant before I can even move.

I look up to see Emetterio pointing to me and his other finger at Xaden. “Lets see what you Riorson siblings can do.”

The gym goes quiet at his words. For the second time since I’ve arrived here Garrick goes to start forward and is stopped by Xaden’s arm. He immediately whips his head towards Xaden with a glare. A glare Xaden returns without skipping a beat. I can tell the words he gives to Garrick are stern. Garrick just nods his head and steps back. Xaden and I take our spots on opposite sides of the mat, the whole gym going quiet in anticipation.

I don’t need to look around to know all eyes are on us. The Riorson siblings. The commanding wing leader, and the one thought to be dead. Behind Xaden, Garrick’s eyes are on me but I don’t raise my gaze from Xaden’s. I do notice Imogen make her way around the edge to stand next to him.

Xaden and I start to circle each other. I know Xaden’s fighting style. I watched him train with our father, as well as Garrick and Bodhi. But he has no idea how I fight. To his knowledge I had no combat training other than run and hide. All he knows is I’m quick with some daggers after last night. Xaden makes the first move, rushing forward to make a grab for me, but I duck and roll to side while landing a kick to the back of his knee causing him to stumble before he turns back to me. This time I’m the first to move. He goes to block my attack but I duck to side again and land a punch to his ribs. I use the small window I have to place another stronger kick to his knee knocking him to the ground in a kneeling stance. As he goes to the ground I bring up my other foot and place a kick to the side of his head. I should probably go easier on my brother, but he’s underestimated me and I want, no need to prove what I have learnt. I can’t let him, Bodhi and Garrick treat me like the little girl they once knew.

Xaden is now kneeling with his hands on the mat trying to right himself. I raise my leg again to push him down by his back but he swings an arm out knocking my legs out from me. Sending me down down to the mat, my back hitting it with a loud smack. He goes to make a move I’ve seen him do many times in the past. As he leans down to put me into a hold I hook my legs around his neck and flip him so he’s face down on the mat. I twist and put pressure on his neck. He might be stronger than me, but the way I have twisted makes it hard for him to breathe if he moves too much. But he still his best to get out of the hold. I shift my stance as best I can to make an arch in his back, making him look towards to roof. 30 seconds later he taps the mat. He yields.

As soon as I release him from the hold the gym comes back to life with chatter and fights starting up. It appears the whole gym stopped to watch our match. As Xaden stands he holds his hand out to help me up which I happily take.

”You’re definitely not the little sister I use to know.” He says with a smile as he looks down at me. “I might even need to thank Melgren for the training he gave you.”

”That guy does not need his ego inflated more than it is. Please don’t.” Causing Xaden to laugh.

Foot steps to my left pull me from the moment with Xaden and we both look to see Emetterio looking at us.

”Definitely not how I expected that to go. I expect good things out of you Ophelia.” He says before walking off to observe the other matches.

As the next pairing for our mat makes their way over Xaden and I make our way off the mat towards Garrick and Imogen, and Bodhi who must have made his way over during our match. Bodhi and Garrick are beaming at me. Obviously happy I had just kicked Xaden’s butt on the mat. Imgoen on the other hand looks even more pissed than she has all day at me. As we get to them she huffs and storms off back to our squad.

”What’s her problem?” I ask the boys as I watch her pink hair disappear into the crowd.

The boys all share a knowing look which has me raising an eyebrow at them. Clearly all in on something I’m not.

”Probably just feels threatened by you. You’ve clearly shown you’re a fighter to contend with. She’s always boasted about being one of the better female fighters here.” Bodhi states.

”Right.” I am not even remotely convinced by his words. The glares she’s been sending me all day suggest other wise.

I turn to face the mats and watch the other matches, Garrick moving to stand next to me. Almost as if pulled to my by gravity. He’s presence is comforting and I look up and see him smiling down at me.

”Not gonna lie, was kinda hot watching you take you’re brother down like that.” He says to me as he winks at me making my heart skip a beat as he stares intently into my eyes.

”You did not just call my sister hot!” Xaden nearly shouts from the other side of me at Garrick, causing Garrick and Bodhi to burst into fits of laughter as I turn bright red.

I feel the all too familiar set of eyes on me and look over to see Imogen glaring at me. As Garrick places his hand on my shoulder as he responds to Xaden, it almost looks as if she starts shaking with anger. Something tells me in the next few weeks her and I are going to end up on that mat together. And it won’t be pretty.

Part 5 @riorgail @going-through-shit

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis #the fourth wing #the empyrean

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saradiation · 5 months

Note

How do you come up with the sweater ideas

Oh fun question! ✨

For the pose I look up references on Pinterest, and for the pattern it's fairly easy with Homestuck characters because they all have special interests specific to them, and integrating those in their clothes design is my favorite part! ❤️

Btw for my latest sweater drawing I was inspired by this cute sweater I own and I love to go through my sweater collection to see how the patterns look irl because I have accumulated quite a few lol

Also I find that drawing the main design (like crabs or quadrants for Karkat for example) pixelated gives even more of a stitch pattern vibe, and so do little dots and little crosses. The trick to make them look more natural is to make them go along the clothes folds if that makes sense? :)

#hope it helps!#i think i might draw one more sweater before xmas :D #do you guys think I should call it Sweater AU at this point? 😆#ask #art tips

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yourfavoritebookclub · 9 months

Text

WINGLEADER: A Xaden Riorson POV Fanfiction

CHAPTER 6

Imogen and I walk along the Iakobos River, our steps near silent as we snake our way through the reedy grass to the cluster of large oaks at the bank.

We stop at the roots of one of the larger trees and Imogen pulls off her hood to give me a long look.

She leans in towards me, voice quiet. “Can you please stop giving me the silent treatment?”

When I don't respond, she turns her head to look me in the eyes, “Xaden, seriously. You weren’t there, she was talking about my parents being murdered. Am I supposed to just let trash like her get away with that? It’s dis—” I lift my hand to silence her. “Don’t finish that sentence, Imogen.” I ground out, my anger rising at the insult.

Hurt and confusion flash across her face and I feel a twinge of guilt. She doesn’t know that with every look, every confrontation, every day that goes by where Violet is in my presence, my self control slips a little more.

“The rest are close.” Sgaeyl says from her position in the sky.

My eyes lift, “We can discuss this in front of everyone. It’s a message for all of you.”

The two of us turn towards the line of trees as the rest of the group converge beneath the giant oak.

My shadows are comfortable here, they feel cool against my skin. As they unravel, my senses extend along every tendril. I can hear every small nocturne creature and subtle wind.

I can also hear the soft, quick breathing above me. What Violet Sorrengail is doing out here, is a question I’d love to know the answer to. But it can wait. This moment feels like another opportunity to push her and see which way she falls.

There are small introductions between everyone, most of them are known, but some of the first-years are from smaller families who haven’t been properly acquainted with everyone.

There’s a palpable anxiety coursing through the younger cadets. I get it, but it’s time to push it to the side, step up, and do their jobs. We protect each other. Panic isn't an option.

Garrick is angsty about the losses this week. We all are. Our numbers are small enough as is.

Garrick addresses the group, his eyes hard, “We’ve already lost Sutherland and Luperco, that’s just how it is your first year, but we can’t afford to lose a single one of us. Division amongst ourselves will be your greatest weakness.”

There’s soft rustling in the branches above as Violet moves from branch to branch.

Imogen turns to the first years, “Like it or not, we’re going to have to stick together if you want to survive until graduation.”

“And if they find out we’re meeting?” One of the younger girls, Gwyn, asks the group.

The fear is clear on all of their faces. They’ve all been scared for too long. But that’s what we’re here to change.

I need to inspire courage, but also remind them that we’re confident in the system we’ve created.

And remind them who they’ll be answering to if things get out of hand.

I cross my arms and lean against the tree, keenly aware of Violet, now directly above me.

“We’ve done this for two years and they’ve never found out.” My eyes scan the group, “they’re not going to unless one of you tells. And if you tell,” I say, raising a brow, “I’ll know. Like Garrick said, we’ve already lost two first-years to their own negligence. There are only forty-one of us in the Riders Quadrant, and we don’t want to lose any of you, but we will if you don’t help yourselves. The odds are always stacked against us, and trust me, every other Navarrian in the quadrant will look for reasons to call you a traitor or force you to fail.”

There’s no use in feeding them bullshit if their lives are on the line.

“How many of you are getting your asses handed to you in hand-to-hand?”

Four first-years raise their hands.

Four.

“Shit.” I exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose. This is not good. After the bargain was made a few of us older kids made sure there were systems in place. Training regimens were created. Academic Curriculums, and tests that mimicked what they’ll face upon entering the quadrant. Tools to ensure every serpartist’s kid was well equipped before they put a single toe on the parapet.

The headache is back.

Garrick, always a step ahead, says, “I’ll teach them.”

After the amount of training, and natural skill he’s had, Garrick’s fighting is instinctual. Good for winning fights, not great for trying to teach someone.

I look at Garrick and shake my head, “You’re our best fighter–”

I’m interrupted by Bodhi, “ You’re our best fighter.”

“Dirtiest fighter, maybe,” Imogen corrects him with a laugh.

There’s some laughter, and even a couple smiles from the younger ones.

“Fucking ruthless is more like it,” Garrick says, grinning at me.

I keep my mouth shut and let everyone get it out of their system before moving on.

“Garrick is our best fighter, but Imogen is right up there with him, and she’s a hell of a lot more patient,” If the two of them want to be mouthy then they can do it together. “So the four of you split yourselves up between the two of them for training. A group of three won’t draw any unwanted attention. What else is giving you trouble?” One of the first years, Kieran begins speaking before anyone else, his voice full of anguish,“I can’t do this.” My stomach lurches.

I can’t deal with this right now

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice going cold.

“I can’t do this! The death. The fighting. Any of it. A guy had his neck snapped right in front of me on assessment day!” The boy's voice is growing more frantic, and every word out of his mouth is filling me with guilt.

“I want to go home!” Kieran continues, “Can you help me with that ?”

Everyone turns to look at me.

I did this to them.

Bile rises to the back of my throat.

No, this was the only way I could save every person in front of me right now.

I didn’t have a choice.

And neither does he.

I swallow, frustration bubbling up to the surface.

We don’t have time to comfort and coddle. Our goal is to survive. Everything else is an afterthought.

“No,” I say, shrugging my shoulders, feigning indifference.“You’re not going to make it. Best accept it now and not take up more of my time.”

My words come out harsher than intended, but I mean them nonetheless

The color drains from Kieran’s face, and his thin frame begins shaking as my words hit him.

Bodhi turns to look at me, incredulity written on his face. “That was a little harsh, cousin.”

“What do you want me to say, Bodhi? I can’t save everyone, especially not someone who isn’t willing to work to save themselves.” I keep my voice calm, even as the guilt tries to press itself in on me.

“Damn, Xaden.” Garrick says, that same disbelief lacing his voice. “Way to give a pep talk.”

Did none of them hear me after the parapet? We are not special. We will face blood and horror, and the likely possibility of death. Giving me problems that I can’t solve doesn’t help anyone, it holds us all back. This is just a fact of our reality.

“If they need a fucking pep talk, then we both know they’re not flying out of the quadrant on graduation day. Let’s get real. I can hold their hands and make them a bunch of bullshit empty promises about everyone making it through if that helps them sleep, but in my experience, the truth is far more valuable.” I turn to look at Kieran, “In war, people die. It’s not glorious like the bards sing about, either. It’s snapped necks and two-hundred-foot falls. There’s nothing romantic about scorched earth or the scent of sulfur.”

I point to the citadel off in the distance, “This isn’t some fable where everyone makes it out alive. It’s hard, cold, uncaring reality. Not everyone here is going to make it home…to whatever’s left of our homes. And make no mistake, we are at war every time we step foot in the quadrant.” I lean closer to him, and the other first-years in front of me. They need to drill this into their fucking skulls, “So if you won’t get your shit together and fight to live, then no. You’re not going to make it.”

I assess each of them, making sure they’ve heard me loud and clear.

Good. Time to move on.

“Now, someone give me a problem I can actually solve,” I say, this time addressing the whole group.

Aria, one of the first years, speaks up, “Battle Brief.”

That, I can handle.

She continues, “It’s not that I can’t keep up, but the information…”

Imogen steps in to soften the obvious conflict in Aria’s voice. She leans in, voice gentle “That’s a tough one.”

Some of my irritation with her softens. Imogen’s fearless, and has a nasty temper, but she’s always been a buffer between me and everyone else.

And she’s right, It’s hard to know what we know, and still placate the professors.

I’d speak a bit more freely if I didn’t have a certain someone perched on the branch above me. I'm already sticking my neck out by letting her stay.

“You learn what they teach you.” I say giving her a pointed look. “Keep what you know but recite whatever they tell you to.” There are several nods, and I feel satisfied that everyone understands what’s at stake if they fuck up.

“Anyone else?” I say, looking up at the moon. It’s shifted considerably since we got here, which means we’re cutting it close. “You’d better ask now. We don’t have all night.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence before someone in the back says, “When do we get to kill Violet Sorrengail?”

My whole body tenses, my heartrate climbing, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from snapping. In the span of a few seconds I’ve become completely possessed. Just a handful of days around her and I’m already losing my mind at the thought of anyone touching her. She’s mine .

“Yeah, Xaden, When do we get to finally have our revenge?” Imogen says, her voice turning mockingly sweet.

I am now acutely aware of every fast breath coming from Violet.

I throw a threatening look at Imogen, “I told you already, the youngest Sorrengail is mine, and I’ll handle her when the time is right.”

I don’t think I even know what that means right now. There are a lot of ways I’d like to handle–

No.

That’s not even a thought worth entertaining.

Bodhi decides to be Bodhi and stir the pot, “Didn’t you already learn that lesson, Imogen? What I hear, Aetos has you scrubbing dinner dishes for the next month for using your powers on the mat.”

“Her mother is responsible for the execution of my mom and sister. I should have done more than just snap her shoulder.” Imogen argues, her cheeks flushing in anger.

“Her mom is responsible for the capture of nearly all our parents. Not her daughter.” Garrick looks Imogen in the eyes, “Punishing children for the sins of their parents is the Navarrian way, not Tyrrish.”

This is getting exhausting.

“So we get conscripted because of what our parents did years ago and shoved into this death sentence of a college–”

“In case you didn’t notice, she’s in this same death sentence of a college. Seems like she’s already suffering the same fate.” Garrick says, shutting down Imogen’s argument.

Apparently everyone here needs a reminder of who Violet is in all of this.

“Don’t forget her brother was Brennan Sorrengail. She has just as much reason to hate us as we do her.” I say to Imogen before turning to the first-year, “And I’m not going to tell you again. She’s mine to handle. Anyone feel like arguing?”

No one speaks.

The moon has shifted even closer to the horizon. Time to get these walking headaches out of here and deal with the one above me.“Good. Then get back to bed. And go in threes.”

The group clears out and I walk towards the citadel, slowly cloaking myself in shadows until I’m invisible in the dark. I can’t help but smirk as I backtrack to the oak tree and slip behind where Violet is currently positioned.

She’s patient. It takes her a good ten minutes before she finally climbs down from her perch and drops to the ground.

Still cloaked in shadows, I lunge, pulling her tight against my chest. Every place where our bodies connect is buzzing like a live wire, and I resist the impulse to drop her.

It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and dammit if I don’t love every second.

“Scream and you die,” I whisper in her ear. I don’t want to let go of her, but I force myself to remove my arm from around her neck.

Before she can even think about retaliating, I’ve replaced my arm with the edge of a dagger. “Fucking Sorrengail.” I snap, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal her face.

Fuck.

I can’t help the way my cheeks heat as she leans her head back to look me in the eyes.

I push my chest against her, forcing her eyes forward before she gets a chance to read the undeniable need on my face.

“How did you know?” She says, her lip curling. For someone who’s convinced I’m going to kill her, she has some bite. “Let me guess,” she continues, “You could smell my perfume. Isn’t that what always gives the heroine away in books?”

Perfume?

I bend my head toward hers, my lips brushing against her ear.

She’s irritating as hell. And yet here I am, excited that I have her all to myself.

“I command shadows, but sure, it was your perfume that gave you away.” I say sarcastically, my voice barely above a whisper.

A thrill goes up my spine as she gasps. “Your signet is a shadow wielder?”

My lips are still at her ear , “What, Aetos hasn’t warned you not to get caught alone in the dark with me yet?”

My voice sounds rough, even to me, and I resist the urge to put my mouth on her, to bite her ear, kiss her neck. I’m in a fog, consumed by being near her.

My grip loosens a fraction as my concentration slips, and she spins towards me, dagger raised, “Is this how you plan to handle me?”

“Eavesdropping are we?” I ask, brow lifting.

Seeing her like this, like she was before the parapet, angry and wild, is doing something to me, and I can’t get enough.

I sheath my dagger. “Now I might actually have to kill you.” The cold look in my eyes is in stark contrast to the way my mind is pleading with her.

Please, don’t say anything.

Because for all my bravado, I don’t know if I have it in me to kill her. I’m worried about what it might do to me.

It would wreck me.

She backs away, reaching into her cloak to pull out another dagger.

Despite her uneven footing and awkward defensive stance, Violet with her daggers out, ready for a fight is…

Fuck, It’s hot.

“That stance is really the best you can muster? No wonder Imogen nearly ripped your arm off.” I say, heaving a sigh. I don’t have it in me to kill her but there are several people who do, and will succeed with her defensive position so…lacking.

“I’m more dangerous than I look,” she says, but her cheeks are flushed and her ears have turned pink at the tips, contradicting the anger in her voice.

She’s being cute, and I can’t help but smirk. I like playing with her, “So I see. I’m quaking in my boots.”

Quicker than I would’ve expected she flings both daggers towards me.

And completely misses.

I look at her dully, if not a little disappointed, “You missed.”

“Did I?” She says, reaching for the two other daggers she has tucked into her cloak, “Why don’t you back up a couple steps and test that theory?”

What?

I smooth my face into a mask of irritated boredom, but from the way she’s looking at me, I know she saw the question in my eyes.

My shadows swirl around her ankles, pulling to touch her. I yank them back, hard, smothering my own desire.

My eyes don’t leave Violet’s as I take three steps back until my back hits the tree.

Where the hilt of each dagger sits perfectly between both sides of my head.

Oh.

Good girl, Violet.

“Tell me again that I missed.” She threatens, flipping the dagger in her hand to hold it by the tip.

I still can’t take my eyes off of her.

I smile, “Fascinating, you look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”

I will my shadows into something more concrete, forming them into hands, the slender fingers moving to pluck the daggers from the bark, and drop them into both of my palms.

I’m still smiling at her like a fool. I think I’m going into shock.

My body has completely abandoned my mind, and before I realize what I’m doing, I’m moving towards her, steps slow, “You should show that little trick to Jack Barlowe.”

Violet blinks in surprise, “What?”

She clocks how close we are to each other and raises her dagger.

I’ve done my job a little too well if she thinks my only motivation is to kill her. “The neck-snapping first year who’s very publicly vowed to slaughter you.” I tease, lifting an eyebrow.

One more step and the tip of her blade is pressed against my middle. I’m still smirking as I reach under her cloak and sheath one of the daggers.

I lift the other side of her cloak, and the smirk slips off of my face, every ounce of playful banter gone.

Underneath her cloak, her hair is twisted into a loose braid that falls over one shoulder and down past her breast. The silver strands, now exposed to the moonlight, glint as she shifts her head to look up at me.

I can barely breathe for wanting her so badly.

I want to wrap that braid around my wrist and yank her towards me.

For a single heartbeat I’m dumbstruck before I pull myself together and sheath her other dagger. “He’d probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head.”

Violet’s face looks half irritated, half confused, “Because the honor of my murder belongs to you?” My words from earlier play through my head. Mine . “You wanted me dead long before your little club chose my tree to meet under, so I imagine you’ve all but buried me in your mind by now.”

I look at the dagger pressed between us. She looks closer to burying me than the other way around.

A small shiver of fear courses through me. I’ve made a dangerous gamble in letting her hear all that was said tonight. “Do you plan on telling anyone about my little club ?”

“No,” She says bluntly.

I can feel my eyebrows knit together. The answer I was hoping for, but not necessarily the one I was expecting. “Why not?” I ask. My head tilts to the side as I examine this girl in front of me, so different than I had assumed. “It’s illegal for the children of separatists officers to assemble in—”

“Groups larger than three,” Smart little thing.

She continues, “I’m well aware. I’ve lived at Basgiath longer than you.” Arrogant little thing too.

“And you’re not going to run off to Mommy, or your precious little Dain, and tell them we’ve been assembling? ” I can’t help the contempt that drips off my tongue at the thought of Dain. Of his hands on her face, searching through her memories.

“You were helping them. I don’t see why that should be punished.”

I give her an assessing glare.

She looks thoughtful, her mind turned inward for a beat before her eyes refocus on mine, “I’m not going to tell.”

I can’t get my hopes up, but they’re soaring anyways.

Her defenses are slipping away, rotating back to a familiar look of fear.

I don’t want her to be scared of me.

She needs to be scared of me. She should want nothing to do with me.

If I can just manage enough self restraint to put some distance between the two of us.

“Interesting. We’ll see if you keep your word, and if you do, then unfortunately, it looks like I owe you a favor.” I say, my thoughts of staying away are already completely abandoned.

I turn to go and she calls after me, “You’re not going to handle me?”

“Not tonight!” I yell over my shoulder, a smirk on my face.

She makes an indignant sound, “What are you waiting for?”

Gods I can’t help but play with her, “It’s no fun if you expect it. Now, get back to bed before your wingleader realizes you’re out after curfew.”

“What?” She almost shrieks, voice full of confusion.

I start to pull my shadows around me, cloaking me from view, but not before I hear her shout, “ You’re my wingleader!”

Yes the hell I am.

In the shadows my smirk has bloomed into a fierce grin.

#fourth wing #fanfiction #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #xadenviolet #violet and xaden #fourth wing fanfic #tairn and sgaeyl #sgaeyl #liam mairi #mira sorrengail #basgiath

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the-kingshound · 7 months

Note

Imagine the following diagram:

An X-axis that is the top/bottom spectrum.

A Y-axis the sub/dom spectrum.

The two cross in the middle.

This is followed by the question:

In which of the resulting quadrants do each of RO's end up?

#i realized after i did it that i inverted the axes...#rip #i never was good in math #evaine is right at the very center but i couldn't make the perfectly right or you wouldn't have read their name

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fourthwingfan · 2 months

Text

Madness - Chapter 11

It is a grave offense against Malek to keep the belongings of a dead loved one. They belong in the beyond with the god of death and the departed. In the absence of a proper temple, any fire will do. He who does not burn for Malek will be burned by Malek.

—Major Rorilee’s Guide to Appeasing the Gods, Second Edition

The next practice session of the Gauntlet is the same as the first. Liam and I are the first ones who made it to the top today. I stand on his left side as we watch the others so that he can’t see the cut on my face. The bruises on my neck are mostly hidden under the jacket. It’s autumn so the uniforms are warmer and covers more skin than the summer ones. Lucky me.

“Aelin? Is something wrong?” Liam turns to me. “You avoid looking into my eyes since morning. Did I do something yesterday?”

“No. You, didn’t do anything wrong.” I say while the guilt suffocates me. I can’t tell him that I’m supposed to spy on him, and his friends. He’s my best friend and he would tell Xaden. Xaden… I don’t know what is this between us but maybe…I like him? He’s protective over his people. And strangely… I don’t want to disappoint him.

“Then what’s wrong?” He steps closer. “Why don’t you look at me?”

Shit. I knew that I can’t keep this from him forever. I need to come up with something believable. But… I don’t want to lie to him.

I brace myself then for the first time today I fully look at him.

“What the hell?” He whispers as he sees the cut on my cheek. It’s not that bad, it’s a clean cut. “What happened to you?”

“It’s…nothing.” I force a smile. I can’t lie to him. “I’m fine.”

“Fine? Damn, there’s a fucking cut on your cheek, Aelin.” He glares at me.

“But I’m fine, really. It’s not that bad.” I try to calm him.

“Who did this to you?” He looks into my eyes as if he can find the answer there.

“I can’t tell you. I’m so sorry.” I glance sideways.

“What? Why?” He asks in a shocked voice. “You won every challenge, there are only a few cadets here, who is stronger than you. But I know that they wouldn’t do it. Neither Xaden nor Garrick. Obviously neither do I.”

“It wasn’t one of your friends who did this.” I try to reassure him. “And do you think you’re stronger than me?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Then who?” He crosses his arms and he completely ignores my question. “Someone who isn’t a cadet. Someone who doesn’t belong to the quadrant?”

“Liam. Stop it, please.” I plead. He will be in danger if he finds out.

“Why? Why don’t you want to tell me?” He takes my hand and squeezes it.

“It’s just… I can’t. You have to believe me that I can handle it, and you would be in danger if you knew everything.” I try to convince him. “Please, believe me!”

Silence.

“You do not trust me?” He looks hurt.

“No! I trust you, Liam! More than anyone!” I feel like shit. He’s such a good person. “You’re my best friend. I just want to protect you and the others.”

“Me? And the others?” He raizes an eyebrow. “It’s about the marked-ones?”

Shit. I’m such a fool.

“Tell me, Aelin! I have to know if it’s about me.”

“It’s not about you, and it never will be. I’ll take care of it.” I say firmly.

“Aelin. If you trust me, then tell me. I want to help you. No matter what it is.” His look softens. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Liam… my eyes are teary.

What if I tell him? What if we can come up with stories that will be acceptable for the General?

“If I tell you something which is related to you and the other marked-ones, but I swear it won’t put you in danger, then would you keep it a secret from everyone? Even from Xaden?” I know it’s risky. He said that Xaden is like a brother to him. But I can’t tell everyone. And if Xaden knew…I don’t want him to look at me with hatred in his eyes again.

“Aelin, I…” he looks at me with conflicted eyes.

“You don’t have to answer me now.” I interrupt him. “I know it’s not fair to ask you this. I know you’re close with Xaden, I understand it. But…I have my reasons. If you can’t do it, that’s fine. I’ll still be your friend.”

“Okay.” He nods. “I need to think about it.”

***

After Gauntlet we have classes. We are still sitting next to each other. It’s just… Liam is quiet. He carves figures out of wood, as always. But we don’t talk like we used to.

I hope we’ll still be friends after this.

I shouldn’t have asked him to keep secrets from Xaden. I have to deal with it alone.

After this class is over I’ll tell him to forget it. It will be the best.

The bell rings.

We stand up and gather our things.

“Liam?” I turn to him. “You can forget about my request. It wasn’t fair.” I whisper, hoping no one can hear us.

“No. I will do it.” He shakes his head.

“What?” I glance at him.

“You promised that it wouldn’t effect the others. I trust you.” He turns to me with his bag in his hands. “I want to know what’s going on with you. I told you before, I will help you whenever I can.”

“Thank you.” I smile at him with relief in my eyes. “I’ll meet you after curfew. At the trees by the river.”

“Okay.” He nods.

***

I pace back and forth in front of the trees as I wait for Liam. Will he come? What if he changed his mind? Do I want him to change his mind?

A million thoughts. And no answers.

I hear silent footsteps and I jerk my head in the direction of the sound. It’s Liam. He came.

„I’m here. Now tell me what is this all about?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

„It’s just…It’s a long story.” I sigh. „Do you mind if we sit down? I’ll be nervous is we just stand here.”

He nods and we sit down under the tree with the fonilee berries. It seems like we were here ages ago with Violet.

„I will tell you everything, but I totally understand if you don’t want to be my friend after it.” I stare at the river, instead of Liam. „The only one who knows this is Violet, but even she doesn’t know everything.”

„Aelin, it’s okay.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it. „It couldn’t be that bad.”

„You’re right. It’s worse.” I laugh bitterly. „Just…listen, okay?”

He nods.

„You know that my father is General Melgren. We don’t have a good relationship. I think the only person he loved in his life was my mother.” I sigh still looking at the river. „He didn’t leave me another choice, I had to cross the Parapet. It didn’t matter him if I survived it or not. I have to be here. I have to become a rider.”

„After we crossed the Parapet, Dain found us. He helped Violet and told Rhi and I that we should search for the woman with a scroll and tell her to place us in his squad.”

„What?” He asks. „But you’re in another squad with me.”

„Yes.” I nod. „The woman told us that she already had orders regarding me. Then I was placed in the Fourth Wing.”

„In Xaden’s chain of command.” Liam look at me with understanding. „It was you father’s doing?”

„I found out that evening.” I wrap my arms around my knees. „Remember that I said after Battle Brief that the General wanted to see me? That was when everything went wrong.”

„What happened?”

„He told me that he gave the order regarding me. Then showed me a strane a dagger, with runes. And…” My voice is cracking.

„You can tell me, Aelin.” He places his hand on my shoulder. „Trust me.”

„He told me to report him weekly about…Xaden and the marked-ones.” I don’t dare to look at him. „I think the relics on your arms somehow block you from him. It’s like he can’t use his signet on the marked-ones.”

„And…what did you tell him?” He asks slowly. „I know you wouldn’t put us in danger. Never.”

I jerk my head toward him. He believes me?

„You…Do you believe me?” I ask with teary eyes.

„Of course. I told you I trust you!” He says firmly.

„You’re a way better person than anyone I know.” I smile at him. „I didn’t tell him anything. After that conversation he had to go to the front, and he didn’t come back until yesterday.”

„Yesterday? Then the cut on your cheek…” He mutter softly.

„He summoned me last night. He wanted my report.” I look at the river again. „But… I didn’t know what to tell him. I didn’t want to get you and…Xaden into trouble. And neither do the others. It was my father who killed your parents and forced you to watch it. All of you suffered because of him.”

„It’s not your fault, Aelin. It was your father’s actions. Not yours.” He says softly.

„But I am here and he isn’t. I have to bear to consequences.” I say darkly. „So I didn’t say anything and he was…angry.”

„So he just cut your cheek? That’s insane.” He says sharply.

„Technically he threw a dagger at me and I wasn’t fast enough.” I shrug.

„Aelin, that’s even worse!” He almost shouts. „Do you have any other injuries?”

I pull back my sleeve and show him my arms. There’s a distinctly hand-shaped bruise on it.

Then I grab the neck of my jacket and show him my throat. There’s an even uglier bruise.

„Fuck” he curses. „He did all of this?”

„Yes.” I nod and rearrange my clothes.

„Why don’t you fought back?” He asks.

„It would have been much worse. Believe me.” I chuckle bitterly.

„I won’t tell your secret to Xaden. It’s not your fault you’re in this situation.” He says. „But he could help us, you know.”

„I don’t want him to know. I don’t want him to…look at me with hatred again.” I mutter.

„Aelin. Do you actually like him?” He asks with a smirk.

„It’s complicated.” I evade the question.

„Sure. But we will talk about it some other time.” He nods. „Now back on the topic. What will you tell the General next time?”

„Actually I want to ask for your help. Can you tell me some things that he can’t use against you?” I look at him. „If you can’t, that’s okay I can come up with stories on my own.”

„Aelin. It seems you forgot what I said. Again.” He looks at me with disapproval. „Let me remind you. I will help you.”

„Thank you, Liam.” I smile at him a moment later. „You’re really my best friend.”

„That’s official?” He laughs at me.

„What do you want? Should I shout it out in the morning formation?” I mock him.

„That would be spectacular.” He grins. „Now come, it’s late. We should go back.” He extends a hand and pulls me up.

„Liam.” I look in his eyes. „I’m really grateful. For your help. And you being my friend.”

„I know. I’m a fantastic friend.” He laughs and pulls me into a hug. „I think you’re so much more than what you let others see. You have a big heart. Maybe too big. But I say with you and help you protect it.”

I squeeze him tightly and let my tears flow. I don’t know what I would do without him.

***

After that night we sit down once a week, and come up with believable stories, that would satisfy the General. So far it’s working.

The next practice sessions of the Gauntlet are the same as the first two. Liam and I are improving our times. Now we’re faster than anyone in our squad. The others? It another story. At least we don’t lose another squadmate. Vila has quit running her mouth, since she can’t seem to make it up fully.

The shaking rods are her downfall.

By the ninth—and next-to-last—session, I’m ready to set the entire obstacle course on fire. How many times do we have to do it before Presentation? The only thing still challenging at this point is Liam. He’s wicked fast. Faster than me. I try to beat his time, but I rarely succeed.

***

“Doria Merrill,” Captain Fitzgibbons says from the dais. Every one of his features is crystal clear, not only because the sun is behind the shade of the clouds but because I’m closer. Our formation gets tighter with every cadet who falls.

According to statistics, today will be one of the deadliest for first-years. It’s Presentation Day, and in order to get to the flight field, we’ll have to climb the Gauntlet first. Everything about the Riders Quadrant is designed to weed out the weak, and today is no exception.

“Kamryn Dyre.” Captain Fitzgibbons continues to read from the roll.

“Arvel Pelipa.” A second-year? Firstyears aren’t the only ones at risk; we’re just the most likely to die.

“Michel Iverem.” Captain Fitzgibbons closes the roll. “We commend their souls to Malek.” And with that final word, formation breaks.

“Second- and third-years, unless you’re on Gauntlet duty, head to class. Firstyears, it’s time to show us what you’ve got.” Theo smirkes as he looks at our squad. „I heard you’re decent on the Gauntlet. Then show us what you’ve got.”

“Now back into formation,” he orders.

“Are you going with us?” I ask.

He nods. The five of us fall into lines, the same as the other squads around us.

“We’re the smallest squad,” Rio notes, behind us as the squads farthest left —from First Wing—file out through the western gate in the courtyard.

“What are we down to?” Ethan asks. “Hundred and eighty?”

“Hundred and seventy-one,” Theo answers.

Squads from Second Wing begin to move, led by their wingleader, which means Xaden is somewhere ahead of us. My nerves are reserved for the obstacle course, but I can’t help but wonder which way his scales will tip today.

“For a hundred dragons? But what will we…” Vila asks, nerves cutting off her words.

No one bothers to answer her.

“Nervous?” I ask Liam, knowing we’re about to be called next.

“Not at all. We’ve got this.” He grins.

“Oh, I meant about the history test tomorrow,” I tease. “There’s nothing going on today to panic about.”

“Now that you mention it, the whole Treaty of Arif might just be the death of me.” He grins.

“Fourth Wing!” Xaden calls out from somewhere in the distance. I don’t even need to see to know that it’s him who gave the order and not his executive officer. “Move out!”

We file off in order, Flame Section, then Claw, and finally Tail.

There’s a bit of a bottleneck at the gate, but then we’re through, walking into the mage-lit dimness of the tunnel that we take every morning to reach the Gauntlet. Shadows blanket the edges of the rocky floor along our path.

What are the limits of Xaden’s power anyway? Could he use shadows to choke out every squad in here? Would he need to rest or recharge after? Does such a vast power come with any sort of checks or balances?

Light appears ahead and grows into an archway that’s ten feet high, leading us to the base of the Gauntlet.

The view is spectacular as always. We’re still high on the mountain, thousands of feet above the valley, and the greenery seems to stretch endlessly to the south, with random clusters of squat trees among colorful slopes of wildflowers. My gaze turns to the Gauntlet carved into the face of the cliff, and I can’t help but follow each obstacle higher and higher until I’m staring at the top of the ridgeline that the maps I’ve studied show leads into a box canyon—the flight field. I bite my lip as I stare at the break in the tree line.

Normally, only riders are allowed on the flight field��except for Presentation.

***

An hour later I watch as Violet makes her way through the Gauntlet. We had come up with some ideas yesterday how to make the chimney and the last obstacle easier. I hope she can do it.

I grin as I watch her grab onf of the ropes and drag it horizontally across the surface of the cliff, to get the bottom portion onto the chimney structure.

„Can she do that?” someone snaps.

Hell, yes!

„Yes! She did it!” I grin at Liam.

He squeezes my hand as we watch her in front of the ramp.

The obstacle is meant to test a cadet’s ability to scale a dragon’s foreleg and reach its saddle. And she’s too short.

But Xaden’s words that the right way wasn’t the only way have played over and over in my head all night long as we planned.

She unseathes her largest dagger and she charges.

She slams the dagger into the slick wood and she uses it to fling herself the last foot upward. She throws her elbow over the top to gain more leverage and pull herself up and over, using the handle of her dagger as a final step. After it she yanks her dagger free. And she did it.

„She did it!” I shout. „She did it! She fucking did it!” I laugh a bit histerically.

„Yeah, she did it.” Liam smiles back at me.

“Cheating!”

I turn toward the voice. It’s Amber Mavis, the strawberry-blond wingleader from Third Wing who was Dain’s close friend last year, according to Violet, and there’s nothing but fury on her face as she charges toward Xaden, who’s only a couple of feet away from Violet with the roll, recording times with a stopwatch and looking rather bored with it all.

“Back the hell up, Mavis,” Garrick threatens, the sun flashing off the two swords the curly-haired section leader keeps strapped to his back as he puts his body between Amber and Xaden.

“The cheater clearly used foreign materials not once but twice,” Amber yells. “It’s not to be tolerated! We live by the rules or we die by them!”

No wonder she and Dain are so close—they’re both in love with the Codex.

“I don’t take kindly to calling anyone in my section a cheater,” Garrick warns, his massive shoulders blocking her from view as he turns. “And my wingleader will handle any rule-breaking in his own wing.” He moves to the side.

“Sorrengail?” Xaden asks, arching an eyebrow in obvious challenge, a pen poised over the book. I notice not for the first time that other than his Fourth Wing and wingleader emblems, he doesn’t wear the patches others are so fond of displaying.

“I expect the thirty-second penalty for using the rope,” she answers.

“And the knife?” Amber’s gaze narrows. “She’s disqualified.”

When Xaden doesn’t answer, she turns that glare on him.

“Surely she’s out! You can’t tolerate lawlessness within your own wing, Riorson!”

But Xaden’s gaze never leaves Violet’s eyes as he silently waits for her to respond.

“A rider may only bring to the quadrant the items they can carry—” she starts.

“Are you quoting the Codex to me?” Amber shouts.

“—and they shall not be separated from those items no matter what they may be,” She continues. “For once carried across the parapet, they are considered part of their person. Article Three, Section Six, Addendum B.”

Her blue eyes flare wide as I glance at her. “That addendum was written to make thievery an executional offense.”

“Correct.” She nods. “But in doing so, it gave any item carried across the parapet the status of being a part of the rider.” she unsheathes the chipped and battered blade. “This isn’t a challenge blade. It’s one I carried across and therefore considered part of myself.”

Xaden’s eyes flare, and I don’t miss the hint of a smirk on that infuriatingly decadent mouth of his. It should be against the Codex to look that good and be so ruthless.

“The right way isn’t the only way.” she uses his own words that I told her against him.

“She has you, Amber.” Xaden shrugs.

“On a technicality!”

“She still has you.” He turns slightly and delivers a look that I never want directed at me.

“You think like a scribe,” she barks at Violet.

It’s intended as an insult, but she just nods. “I know.”

***

After that we moved on, and soon Liam makes his way through the Gauntlet.

He’s fast. His technic is incredible. And in the blink of an eye he’s on the top.

I shake my head and smile. He was faster than ever.

I’m the next.

My feet fly over the obstacles as if I was born for this. I can do it.

I easily made my way through on the first obstacles. It’s easy after all the practice we’ve done.

I arrive at the chimney and I laugh and shake my head as I remember Violet’s trick. It was a clever move.

I fling myself upward, grabbing onto the sides by forming an X with my body, then I start hopping up until I reach the end.

The final obstacle.

I sprint toward the ramp, using my speed and momentum to carry me two-thirds of the way up the ramp. Just before I start to fall, I reach up with one arm and grasp the lip of the ramp and haul myself over the edge.

I’m up. It’s over.

„You were faster now.” Liam comes toward me and laughs at me. „Maybe you were faster than me. At least once.” He winks.

„Hey! Not everybody is as „perfect” as you.” I cross my arms and mock him with a forced serious expression on my face.

I can’t keep up long and starts laughing. He laughs too and tugs me toward Xaden and Garrick.

„Who was the faster?” He grins at them.

Xaden looks at the roll then us.

„It seems you have to be faster, Sunshine to beat Liam.” He looks at me with a smirk and a glint in his eyes.

„Hmpf. It’s not that I expected to be faster than him.” I smile at him with a genuine smile. Maybe the first one I ever gave him. „You taught him well.”

He stares at me with a silent intenstity, his pupils dilate. „Maybe I’m a good teacher.” He smiles back at me.

With a smile I’ve never seen before. It was small but somehow it feel so real. He looks more handsome than ever. It’s breathtaking.

I just stare. I can feel my cheeks heating up a little.

„Oh, man it’s almost Presentation. You can stare at each other all you want, after it. Or do something about this tension between you. Maybe a good workout would help.” Liam winks at us and drags me over where our squad wait.

I can feel my face reddening. „Liam!” I shout.

Garrick laughs behind us and smack Xaden on his back as I glance back.

„You’re the worst.” I hiss at Liam.

„Oh, come on. I just want to help you two.” He puts his arm around my shoulders.

„Sure.” I sigh.

I can see our squad, and all of us made it. We didn’t lose anyone.

„Let’s see those dragons.” I grin at Liam.

#fanfiction #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #xaden riorson x oc #fourth wing fanfiction

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amywritesthings · 1 year

Text

SEEING YOU, SEEING ME (7/7)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 600

Summary: Five Weeks Later - The Epilogue of Our Story

Warnings: None; this is just a finale piece.

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

EPILOGUE

FIVE WEEKS LATER

The dilapidated building that houses Tess and Joel is on your route to the Boston Quarantine Zone occupation office.

It's a thought that never occurred until the moment you stepped foot out of their small studio apartment to greet broad daylight for the first time in days. It's an unassuming space in a row of nothingness, but now?

You thought its significant would mean nothing by now.

You still look every time you pass.

Jobs are just as they’ve always been: messy. Unpleasant. Tiring. From street sweeps to sewage to trash collection, you keep your hands busy when you mind should not. Your arms ache from hard labor.

By the time sunset arrives, you’re too exhausted to dream.

It’s better this way.

Joel Miller doesn’t speak to you; can’t, when he’s nowhere to be found. He signs up for the hardened jobs in the early morning and twilight hours, away from the noise and the crowds. At least, that's what you assuming. He could be running out-of-bounds errands for Tess or trading jobs with that brother of his.

Tess doesn’t bring him up when you pass her in the food kitchen lines. Small pleasantries and jabbing jokes, just like before.

The week spent at their place is virtually a forgotten memory.

(Is it better to be seen once and never again, then not at all?)

On your way to your next sweep shift, Jeanine absently greets you at the touch point, Fedra-issued broom in hand. Yours is the last in the trash can in which they're housed.

She trades you for your proof of labor papers (I was here) and stamps a blank entry to get started. You greet her with just as bland of a reply and take the mangled thing, already feeling the ache in your bones when your hand closes around the handle.

For six grueling hours, you mind your business cleaning up the streets and sidewalks of the third quadrant — sweeping dirtied paths, collecting debris near alleyways, tossing tattered and forgotten Firefly flyers into trash bags.

In a minute, you’ll be free from another day of hardship and free to sit in your apartment alone.

Then you feel something brush against the small of your back.

Immediately you rip your gaze from the ground to connect with a familiar sight: salt and pepper hair, scruffy beard, a worn olive flannel rolled up to his elbows; Joel Miller’s dark eyes stare down at you with an indiscernible question.

Your lips part to say hello, but the words die on your tongue.

All you can do is stare back.

He says nothing, but his hand lingers on your shirt. Waiting.

Joel's drops his arm to his side and pointedly turns his chin towards the nearby alleyway. Like a magnet, your eyes follow.

Then he takes to a slow stroll, leaving you to cross the street and into the threshold where wandering eyes cannot see him.

But you can.

You don’t expect him to stop abruptly at a door, pulling the rusted thing wide open.

He turns to sweep his hand towards it, gesturing an unspoken invitation.

Your stomach flutters with a feeling you abandoned in a bed that didn’t belong to you.

It's reckless, but you'll take reckless if that's what he's willing to give.

Gently you situate the broom's handle against the adjacent brick wall and cross the street, too.

It only takes two steps to make it to the curb.

Twelve to meet him at the door.

You are the first to enter.

Joel Miller is the last to leave.

Author's Note: That's a wrap! I can't believe this is finished, and I couldn't be more proud of the story. Of course, this does not have to be the end, not really! My one shot "reckless." continues these two in the future, and I am happy to hear your thoughts and potentially take story requests in my inbox.

For now, I bid you adieu for the airport. Thank you for the early birthday wishes.

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou spoilers #the last of us spoilers #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #completed fanfic #completed series #completed fic #amywritesthings #fic: seeing you seeing me #seeing you seeing me #it's done guys we're out!!!

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fictionadventurer · 6 months

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I saw your post from 2020 about your Four Quadrants and I absolutely love them! I have wanted to get into Chesterton for a while but have never actually done it bc I have no idea where to start. I decided that you’d be likely to know where I should start based solely on my relating so much to the rest of what your post said. Do you have recommendations?

There are several answers to this question, depending on what type of writing you're interested in, because Chesterton wrote in a lot of different formats.

Novels: My favorite (and the one that feels most "Chestertonian" in the sense of embracing the joys and paradoxes of modern life) is Manalive, which is about a boarding house full of disaffected young people whose lives are upended by the arrival of the energetic and eccentric Innocent Smith, who may or may not be a dangerous lunatic. I'm also fond of his first novel, The Napoleon of Notting Hill, which is set in the far future of 1984, where the actions of two eccentric guys get London caught up in medieval warfare. That book addresses Chesterton's common theme of the tension between taking life too seriously and not taking it seriously enough, but it is a very odd book that's a bit more of an acquired taste.

Short stories: Chesterton's most enduring legacy in pop culture is the Father Brown mysteries--one of the few detectives at the time that wasn't just a Sherlock Holmes clone. These stories are half mystery and half philosophical essay, and I love them (and they're nothing like the TV show). I always tell people to start with the first collection, The Innocence of Father Brown, because the first four stories there--"The Blue Cross", "The Secret Garden", "The Queer Feet" and "The Flying Stars"--form an arc that should be read in chronological order, and the rest of the stories can be read in pretty much any order.

Poetry: Chesterton's big achievement is "The Ballad of the White Horse", a novel-length epic poem about the legends of King Alfred the Great and his war against the Danes. But if you don't feel like reading something so long, his other masterpiece is "Lepanto", a stirring poem about the Battle of Lepanto that saved Europe from a Turkish invasion (though that one is much better if you know the historical context). He also wrote this short, rather biting anti-war poem "Elegy in a Country Churchyard".

If you want something not about war, Chesterton was known for his love of Christmas, and he wrote several excellent Christmas poems, including "A Christmas Carol", "The Wise Men", "Gloria in Profundis", "Joseph" , and "A Child of the Snows".

(As long as we're talking about Christmas poems, I'm going to mention that his wife, Frances, was also a poet, and she wrote a Christmas poem every year for their family Christmas card, which include, "How Far Is It To Bethlehem" and "The Shepherds Found Thee By Night".)

Essays: Tremendous Trifles contains several of the humorous, insightful essays that are among the first things I think of when I think of the Chestertonian mindset, including "A Piece of Chalk", "The Advantages of Having One Leg", and "On Lying in Bed" . Perhaps my favorite Chesterton essay, "On Running After One's Hat" isn't in this collection, but feels like it should be.

Nonfiction: "Orthodoxy" is probably Chesterton's most famous and most accessible religious book, which outlines the worldviews that led him to embrace Christianity.

This last recommendation doesn't fit into any of the categories, but I can't finish a Chesterton introduction post without begging you to read this letter he wrote to his wife, Frances, not long after their engagement, because it may be one of the best love letters ever written.

#answered asks #g.k. chesterton #poetry #frances chesterton #father brown #manalive #the napoleon of notting hill #the ballad of the white horse #lepanto #orthodoxy

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ezrisdax-archive · 9 months

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sometimes I think about the fun of it mixing trek characters. like a tng where ezri shows up and deanna is her mentor. but then I can make it more wild of like...

ds9 au where seven ends up there and sisko has to deal with a borg on his station while also teaching seven baseball and bashir will not stop asking questions about the borg

voy au where jake and nog snuck on to the ship and janeway takes time to help jake with his stories and nog follows b’elanna around to learn engineering from her and the two compete with tom and harry on pranks

tng au where kes is somehow there and beverly is her mentor for medical stuff and she gets a pseudo-sibling thing with wesley and also spends her free time with keiko learning about alpha quadrant plants

like idk there’s potential for fun stories there! where cross trek characters get to meet more and whatnot.

#beej talks star trek

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seasonallyapril · 3 months

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Unexpected Fate - Chapter 1

Chapter One - Conscription Day

Aliyah’s POV

The wind outside the conscription register was strong. The loose hair outside my two braids are flying in every direction. Looking up at the parapet in front of me my body shivers with anxiety. There are many families surrounding the line to become a candidate to the Riders quadrant of Basgiath, all crying and hugging with more strength than I have ever received. I stand in line-eyes forward, completely dissociated from my body-waiting to give my name and start the 250 step climb to what I can only assume is my certain death.

I have no family supporting me through my conscription, no family crying for me to change my mind. The family I have is at home, safe and indoors, and expecting an update on my success as a rider within a year. I was thrown into this burden, it was not a choice. Regardless of my want to be anywhere but this line, I hold no anger. I carried that weight for the year that I was forced to train for this moment. Now, I only hold acceptance, acceptance for what I am to endure if I manage to cross the parapet.

I’m broken out of my mindless state with a gentle tap to my shoulder. I quickly look behind me to be greeted by the bluest eyes I have ever seen, just as blue as my own. The man behind me, with blond hair and the muscles of someone who has been training hard for this moment, kindly gestures me forward. I shake my head and start to walk towards the register.

“Looked like you were deep in thought there, my name’s Liam.” He offers me his hand to shake. I notice his rebellion relic that peeks out of his long shirt, at his wrist, and what I thought was my subtle glance was noticed by the blond as his smile slackens. I quickly meet his gaze and offer my own smile as I shake his strong hand.

“I’m Aliyah”, I gesture to his relic, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I haven’t seen a relic up close”. I start to admire what little of the markings I can see. “Minus the history behind it, it is quite beautiful. As I glance up Liam is intensely staring at me. I go to apologize until he smiles, showing me how it lights up his eyes.

“What brought you here?” Liam questions me. I stand taller and quickly answer, “My family, they needed me here so here I am”. I end my answer with finality, details aren’t important when entering a death college. That’s if I manage to make the trek across the parapet without falling to my death before I even begin.

“Name” the cadet at the register demands, without looking up from her parchment. “Aliyah Zarella” I say and nod back towards Liam with a small smile as I start up the spiraling steps of the Riders turret. My heart starts to race with each slow step, following the line of the candidates in front of me. I distance myself once again to my surroundings. My eyes stay ahead but my mind is elsewhere. I’m thinking of the daisies in the front of my home, the sun that peaked over the mountain cliffs that I viewed from my bedroom window. I’m quietly missing the peace of the early morning that I have always cherished. There’s no beauty here, there’s hard stone and gray walls. The mourning smell of fear and sweat, there are no more bright days.

I’m broken out of my memories when I accidentally look down the middle of the torrent and see how high up Liam and I have climbed. Before I start to let my fears start to fester, there’s a strong squeeze to my shoulder, effectively grabbing my attention to Liam behind me. “How long have you been preparing for this day?”

A year”, and those blue eyes widen slightly with disbelief. “It wasn’t what I thought I’d be doing for my life” I answer honestly. Knowing that it’s a statement we both share.

“Is your balance good”? He looks me up and down and I see a quick assessment of my current chances.

“Balance is fine, it’s the fighting that will get me.” I try to ease his critiquing with a joke. Liam only stares back. “When you’re on the parapet, don’t look down. You’ll fall into all the fears you’re trying to keep locked up right now. Keep your arms out, don’t put a foot forward until you’re sure this storm isn’t pushing you off. Focus on getting to the other side, so I can have a real conversation with you” he ends with an amused smirk.

Now it’s my turn to stare. I start to thank him, truthfully, but we have reached our destination and I have to give my name to the marked roll keeper. Liam and I lock eyes before I walk forward and cross the entrance to our challenge.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

The wind is intense, it’s the first thing I feel. It’s all consuming, just distracting enough to keep me from looking below at the barely visible ground. With arms outstretched I keep my steps precise. The advice Liam had just given sits in the back of my mind as I try to convince myself that I’m not walking the parapet of a war college, but instead I’m back in Lucera, walking along the mountain trails. My rucksack isn’t packed with a bouquet of daggers but instead the bundle of pink bittersweet I always managed to have. I’m not surrounded by an incoming storm but instead clear skies and grass plains, making the chill of the wind only a quiet tether to this new reality.

“You cannot fail, you cannot break” I mumble on repeat. I keep my focus on the overly full rucksack of the candidate in front of me, a man with broad shoulders. I can’t see his features but I see how tense his shoulders are as they hold his arms outstretched like my own. You cannot fail, you cannot break. You cannot fail, you cannot break.

I’m walking steadily, keeping myself a good five feet away from the man in front of me. I feel the wind picking up, pushing against my sides. A push that my body is heavily fighting to stay upright against. My ankle rolls at a crack in the stone path, my body falling forward to a kneel and my fear and stress starts to push away my mental images of Lucera.

The panic that has been building since this morning burst out and I'm suddenly hyperventilating. I can’t look away from the stone below. “Don’t stop!” a deep voice shouts behind me. I jerk my head backwards and I see bright blue eyes, piercing through the stormy sky, looking right at me with an intensity I haven’t felt before. Liam brings me back to reality, just enough that I slowly stand upright and continue to follow the rucksack in front of me. Gaining my footing and pace to once again fight against the monstrous winds. Please let Liam cross.

I continue to start, continue to walk, continue to mumble for I don’t know how long. All until I reach the Rider that waits in the hole in the wall, marking the end of my first challenge. My heart is racing, my mind is as numb as my fingers from the loss of heat. I don’t know how I manage to respond to the Rider to give my name. I find myself still walking forward until I eventually press my back against the stone on the side of the courtyard. I allow myself to look at the ground, trying to ground myself with the visual.

My hands press against the stone and I wiggle my toes in my combat boots to feel the ground, to feel my ‘safety’. Time is still lost until for the third time today there is pressure on my shoulders. My rucksack is being removed from my back and I'm turned around to stare at Liam. Instinct shoots my hand out to his bicep with a grip that stops him in his tracks.

“You made it”, he assures me. As if he can look into my soul and know the change the parapet has already caused. He continues to bring my pack next to his on the ground and places his hand overtop mine.

“You made it” I repeat to him. I continue to stare, until a laugh bubbles up and lets loose without my consent. He chuckles in response and continues to hold my gaze until my mind catches us to what is our new reality. We are in the courtyard of the Riders quadrant on conscription day, no longer Candidates but Cadets.

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Here is chapter 1 of Unexpected Fate. Please let me know what you all think! I'm excited to keep writing and continuing this story I hope you are excited to continue reading.

#liam mairi #the empyrean #fourth wing #oc character #liam mairi x oc character #chapter 1

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kk095 · 1 year

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Victoria in the ER

Victoria was a 19 year old waitress at a nice, upscale restaurant in town. She was working there to save some extra money for cosmetology school, since her true goal in life was to cut hair and open up her own shop. The young lady always made good money from tips- although, it tended to be from men more than twice her age. Regardless, she was a beautiful young lady who worked hard in pursuit of what she wanted in life. She had wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, a perfect tan, stood at 5’5 with an average build, and had a conventionally attractive appearance. Victoria was a previously healthy young woman, so you may be asking yourself how she ended up in our emergency department last night.

Around 11pm last night, Victoria had clocked out of work. The restaurant actually closed on time for once, so the workers were excited to get home at a decent hour. The restaurant was in a smaller downtown area, so there wasn’t a parking lot associated with the restaurant. Instead, there was a parking garage a short walk away at the next intersection that workers of the shops and restaurants in the downtown area were permitted to use. During the trip to the garage, Victoria was a little bit behind the group of coworkers while walking to the garage. She was on her phone, not really paying attention. She didn’t look when she crossed the street. Normally this wasn’t a big deal, the area usually didn’t have a single car on the road at that time. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case last night. Before Victoria had a chance to react, she saw headlights in her peripheral vision. Her eyes opened up wide, before being struck by a car at a decently high rate of speed.

The vehicle struck Victoria in her right hip and right abdomen. She was thrown on the hood of the car, rolled onto the windshield, and thrown back onto the pavement on the same hip that was initially struck in a matter of a second or two. Victoria’s coworkers heard some sort of commotion and headed back, and were shocked to see one of their own laying in the street, severely injured. The driver of the car immediately got out and started panicking. “oh my god. Oh my god. I didn’t see her!” the driver of the car exclaimed anxiously. Victoria laid on the pavement, barely conscious. Her phone was about 25 feet away, absolutely smashed to pieces. Her right leg was twisted slightly outwards, and there was blood accumulating around her. “holy shit. Holy shit. What do I do?!” the driver cried, continuing her panicky behavior. Her coworkers immediately called 911 and explained that their coworker was struck by a vehicle while crossing the street after work, and needed an ambulance immediately. “is she dead?! Did I kill this girl?!” the driver of the car asked herself, thinking out loud, tears streaming down.

Emergency services arrived within a few minutes. EMS immediately went over to Victoria, the fire department secured the scene and directed what little traffic passed through that particular intersection, and the police were asking the driver of the vehicle questions. “I don’t know! I didn’t see her! I didn’t mean it!” the 30-something year old lady who hit Victoria said to the cops. The cops had said they smelled alcohol on her breath, and asked if she had been drinking that evening. The plot thickens in that regard! Meanwhile, EMS began their initial assessment of Victoria. She was semi conscious, groaning in pain occasionally. The medics removed her top and work pants, and noticed that there was major bruising in the upper right quadrant of the abdomen, lateral malrotation of the right femur, and a large, gaping wound in the groin area between the right thigh and genitalia. The wound was bleeding profusely, and there was pelvic bone protruding from the wound. Open pelvic fractures are an uncommon clinical entity, but they are a challenge to deal with because they’re often associated with complex, unstable pelvic fractures and major internal bleeding and/or hemorrhaging.

While the medics were beginning their initial examination of Victoria, the cops could be heard talking to the driver of the vehicle. “you failed the breathalyzer test ma’am. Your result was 0.13, more than twice the legal limit. You are being placed under arrest for driving under the influence resulting in great bodily harm. This is considered a felony offense in the state of South Carolina.” The officer continues. The driver was then read her Miranda rights, handcuffed, and taken to jail. Even though Victoria wasn’t paying attention (something the defense will likely bring up at trial), the driver of the car turned out to be quite intoxicated.

With the driver being taken into police custody, the medics continued their prehospital care on Victoria. Because there appeared to be serious blood loss, the medics had decided to place Victoria in a pelvic binder. A small seatbelt looking device was placed on both sides of her hips. A buckle was secured, and then a strap was tightened. Victoria moaned loudly in pain, since the device was essentially forcing her broken pelvis back into the correct position. Once the pelvic binder was placed, the bleeding from the wound slowed, but didn’t quite stop. Victoria was placed on a backboard with a c-collar, and taken into a nearby ambulance for urgent transport to our ER.

During the ride over to our hospital, the medics had set up a portable heart monitor with a 5 lead EKG, and obtained IV access. During transport, the young lady’s vital signs were: blood pressure 60/palp, heart rate 132bpm, O2 saturation 97%. The medics had started fluid resuscitation with 300 CCs warm crystalloid for fluid resuscitation and to keep her veins pumped up, a small dose of oxycodone for pain management. Further along during the ride over, Victoria becomes unconscious. For the sake of airways management, the medics elect to perform rapid sequence intubation. A 7.0 ET tube is placed into the young waitress’s airway. Once at the correct depth, the tube is held in place and secured with a blue tube holder.

In the coming minutes, Victoria arrives in our trauma bay. The EMS team gives us a quick rundown of the situation, and we transfer her onto the table underneath the large overhead light. “start the MTP, page the OR and ortho.” I called out to my team. “draw stat trauma labs, keep radiology on standby just in case. We should also do an abdomen+pelvis ultrasound. Get that set up for us Nancy.” Dr Lindsay added. Blood products were hung from the infuser, and the ultrasound machine was set up. The cold, conductive gel was squirted onto the young blonde’s belly, and the wand was placed down. I looked at the ultrasound monitor and saw a retrohepatic bleed in the upper right quadrant of the abdomen, and there was a major bleed in the pelvis causing pressure dependent tamponade. “forget radiology. She needs the OR.” I said, realizing the severity of the girl’s injuries.

Before we had a chance to finish up our examination and send her to the operating room, one of our nurses had discovered Victoria was in pulseless electrical activity. Deep, violent chest compressions were started by one of our nurses. The young lady’s chest caved in, her belly bounced out, and her perky C cup breasts jiggled around in response to the force of the compressions. Epinephrine and atropine were injected into her IV line, and her feet swayed at the other end of the table.

It took a few minutes to obtain a shockable rhythm. Once that happened, the defib paddles were gelled and charged to 250j, before being pressed up against the 19 year old’s bare chest. Her broken body flailed violently in response to the first shock, but there was no apparent change. A 2nd shock was delivered moments later at 300j, causing Victoria’s eyes to open slightly from the electricity. “no change, resuming chest compressions.” Was called out by Dr Lindsay. The cute, tomboy doctor placed the heel of her gloves hands on the young patient’s chest and began pumping away repeatedly. “1… 2… 3… come on, you got your whole life ahead of you…” Dr Lindsay said, thinking out loud. The paddles were ready for the next shock, and everyone stood clear. The 360j shock arched Victoria’s back for a moment, before returning to her previous position. The shock had no effect, so CPR was resumed. Dr Lindsay placed her hands in between the young waitress’s breasts and resumed strong compressions. The patient’s shoulders shrugged and her arms bounced gently with the compressions ongoing. Once the paddles were recharged, they were pressed back up against Victoria’s chest, and the next shock got delivered. Her feet kicked up above the backboard for a second before slamming back down, showing off the cute, silky wrinkles throughout the soles of her size 7 feet.

V-fib still persisted, and the code became more and more repetitive over the coming minutes- CPR, meds, shock, repeat. At the 14 minute mark of the code, the trauma team decided to perform a thoracotomy on Victoria in a last ditch attempt to bring her back. Betadine was splashed across her chest, and then a quick, clean cut was made. A spreader was placed into the incision and pried open the left half of her chest. Upon entry to the chest, the pericardium was incised to deliver the heart, and a vascular clamp was placed on the descending portion of the aorta near the diaphragm. Internal massage was then started. Victoria had a strong, healthy heart with barely any traces of fat on it.

After a cycle of internal massage, the internal paddles were charged to 20 joules, lowered into the young lady’s chest, and the first internal shock was delivered. A dull, wet thump could be heard while her torso jolted sharply in response. The monitors showed no change, so another shock was delivered after a cycle of internal massage. This second shock caused the young blonde’s breasts to jiggle in response to the electricity, but v-fib still remained on the heart monitors. The paddles were recharged to 30 joules, lowered back around her weakly fidgeting heart, and the next shock was delivered. Her toes curled and her feet flexed, showing off the cute, prominent wrinkles of her soles and her fresh white nail polish on her toes.

Victoria was shocked plenty of more times with the internal paddles and maxed out on drugs, but she wouldn’t convert out of v-fib. At the 26 minute mark of the code, it was discovered that Victoria’s pupils were fixed and dilated. At that point, the tough decision was made, and Victoria’s time of death was called at 11:46pm. The ambu bag was detached and the heart monitors were switched off. Her eyes were shut for the final time while the nurses removed the rest of the equipment from the young lady’s battered, lifeless body. Lastly, a toe tag was placed on the big toe of her left foot, and her body was covered with a sheet.

Victoria’s autopsy showed she died from a massive abdominopelvic hemorrhage. The major arteries of the pelvic cavity were compromised, but the Ivc also became partially detached from her liver, explaining the abdominal bleeding.

The woman who hit Victoria had her charges upped to DUI manslaughter and was sentenced to 15 years in state prison for her negligence that evening.

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astromechs · 10 months

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Since you don’t mind random/rare pairs… what about Bix x Jyn + angry/rough sex? 👀 They have this annoyance going on for some reason (maybe they’re academic rivals in an AU? Or have some work going on together in-universe?) and well, let’s say they found out a better way to put it out instead of arguing lmao

And after they fuck they can be friends (or their arguments are way more flirtatious) 😌 I hope it inspires you for something

hello, anon! this sort of fits your prompt, but then i sort of went in a different direction? regardless, i hope you enjoy! 💙 (and... yes, do mind the explicit rating, readers) also on ao3!

The first rule of not being an idiot is easy: never go to the same place twice, unless there's a good reason.

Imperials may be stupid, but there are a lot of people who aren't — people with good and long memories for faces that last well beyond aliases. And those memories probably aren't longer anywhere in the galaxy, Jyn knows, than they are on Ferrix; the traditions are old, the gossip networks are older, and one glimpse from the wrong eyes could mean trouble for days.

For years, depending on the sentence. Kestrel Dawn had landed four before she'd found friends, and then vanished from all record entirely.

It just so happens, though, that the best scrapyard in the quadrant is on this planet. And with the old piece of junk she's been saddled with, that's compelling enough reason to risk dealing with the mechanic working there — no matter what had happened before.

The streets are calm now, in the middle of the day; after a quick assessment of her surroundings, just to be sure, she doesn't hesitate any further before heading straight for her destination and walking through the front door.

Immediately, when the mechanic in question looks up from whatever has, up until now, had her attention on the counter, the reception that Jyn gets is chilly; that definitely isn't a surprise. Familiarity is a danger in a life like hers, but she can't help but find some relief in it now, in the way that Bix Caleen glowers at her — brows creased, eyes hard, jaw set.

In the way she says, just as coldly: "What the fuck are you doing here?"

There's a part in this script that's familiar for Jyn, too, so she takes it, lifting her shoulder an easy shrug, tossing back, "Parts."

With more force than she arguably needs, Bix throws a cloth down onto the counter, stepping out from behind it to stand closer. She's got more than a few centimeters of height on Jyn, and with the way her expression hasn't changed, her arms are crossed over her chest, and there's a dangerous glint to her gaze, there's something about her that's imposing.

(Something about that, too, that after weeks of monotony, sparks something back to life in Jyn; she's aware, then, of her heart picking up its pace.)

"That's bantha shit, and you know it." Bix rolls her eyes. "I couldn't get corpos to stop sniffing around here for weeks last time you showed up. You know how bad that is for business?"

"No," Jyn says, because she can, even if she amends: "But I can guess."

Bix scoffs. "Then you can guess your way out of here. I don't need this today."

A smile almost threatens to tug on Jyn's mouth, but it falters before it even forms, fading into the silence that's enveloped between them; she's rusty, completely out of the habit. Still, by the time she speaks again, she finds that something in her voice has changed. She drops the casual nonchalance, and in its place is a somewhat softer truth.

"I really do need parts, though."

Bix is quiet for a moment, and then, with every inch of her face suggesting that she thinks she's making a huge mistake (which, Jyn concedes, she probably is), she heaves a long sigh. "Come to the back."

She turns on her heel, then, and Jyn follows without another word, guilt twinging in her chest. Bix Caleen is a good person, one who's helped her well more than once when didn't have to, when helping has gotten her into her own shit, and she's still helping her; as she ducks under an overhang, a thought surfaces at the back of Jyn's mind: she deserves better.

Maybe that's what has her stopping in her tracks when they're alone, and catching Bix's hand roughly with hers, dragging her closer, heart thumping so obviously that it's surely being heard; maybe that's what has her lingering in the space, eyes meeting an unblinking gaze.

Or maybe it doesn't matter what anyone deserves, because she’s spent the past however many weeks holed up on that hunk of junk ship, and longer than that before locked up in a cell, and she just needs this.

Whatever reason is driving her, she crashes their mouths together like she needs that to breathe.

There's a gasp on Bix's part, about a second, maybe, of hesitation, before Jyn feels another warm body practically melt into her own, feels a hand wind into her hair and tug on it, and — fuck, that feels good.

So does the tongue that slides into her mouth when she parts her own lips, and so do the fingers that grip her tightly, that wedge impressions into her skin with nails even through her shirt; so does the way she’s guided, step by step, until she’s pressing the other woman’s back against the wall.

She’s warm to her core now — warm, wanting, and aching — but for the moment, that will have to wait. Because when they break apart for air, panting, and Jyn finds herself looking into blown-out pupils, a thumb grazing over kiss-swollen lips, she knows what her next move is.

She won’t waste a second on hesitation.

With one last kiss, and a faint noise of protest when she pulls away, just slightly, Jyn lowers herself to her knees, bracketing hips with her hands for balance, pushing them back against the wall when they arch into her. Still holding on with one hand, she makes quick work of fastenings with the other, before tugging Bix’s pants down her legs, followed immediately by underwear. As Jyn rebalances herself, brings her hands closer, and dips down one experimental finger, she notes, with a tug of satisfaction at her core, the other woman is fucking wet.

And even when she’s far from done.

Keening her head up, she replaces her finger with her mouth, pushing her tongue in between her folds.

The effect is immediate; the noise clawing out of Bix that reaches her ears is loud, guttural, and she has to use more force than before to hold back the hips starting to buck up into her, ostensibly seeking friction. But Jyn has a Partisan’s training, and so when there’s a job to do, a mission to accomplish, nothing will throw her off her task. She’s relentless in her efforts, bringing the woman before her closer and closer to the edge she so desperately seeks.

She’s relentless, and she’s precise exactly when she wants to be; for good measure, she adds a thumb, swiping it over her clit.

Bix jerks into her; her hands practically shove her back into the wall. In what falls out of her mouth, Jyn can just barely make out: "Kestrel —"

It’s then, and only then, that Jyn pulls back to speak, but only just, hot against her cunt. "It's Liana now."

If Bix has anything to say to that, neither of them will ever know — in part because, frankly, Jyn doesn’t care to hear it. Kestrel Dawn, Liana Hallik, Jyn Erso, whatever the fuck name does or doesn’t actually belong to her, it’s all irrelevant in this moment, just like the rest of the galaxy is, when this woman under her touch, and under her mouth, is about to come apart.

No, not about to — is, because even if she isn’t a Partisan anymore, even if she’d been left by them, she still thinks and operates like one, and a Partisan doesn’t leave a mission before it’s done. She keeps working, pushing, until —

"Fuck."

The other woman goes slack against her, catching her breath. Jyn rocks back on her feet, wiping her mouth on her sleeve before rising back up, capturing lips with her own once more. It’s a reminder of the need that still sits in her, growing by the second, aching, wanting need, but she can put it off.

Especially if precedent holds true, which tells her that she won’t be waiting long, regardless.

"Don't think,” Bix pants in the space between breaths, finding her voice, but at this point still barely, “this means you're getting off that easy."

It’s creaky, rusted from a prolonged absence, but even so, a small smile manages to tug at the corners of her mouth.

"Good." It even manages to stay, manages to trickle its way down even into her voice itself — just for that one second. "That's never any fun."

#jyn erso #bix caleen #bix x jyn #* fic #asks #anonymous

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