#i had no idea what to do with echo's armor so i just decided that he both joined the bad batch and stayed with the 501st | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kyber-kisses · 1 year

Text

Swimming In Stars

Captain Rex x Jedi!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: while on shore leave the reader decides to go off on an adventure of her own, stumbling across a certain clone captain in the process.

It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to be sneaking out of the temple the night before shore leave ended, seeing as there were still reports to file and mission plans to go over. . . But then again you weren’t exactly known for making smart decisions.

The temple guards were easy enough to slip past, especially after years of you and Anakin memorizing the shift changes. You could probably do it blindfolded if you were being honest. . . And backwards.

The sun had long since set when you departed, a deep navy cloak wrapped around your form,the hood pulled sharply over your head as you dove through one of the open temple windows and onto the ground below. The cloak had been a gift from a woman on Pantora that you had helped rescued from enemy fire. You had tried to decline but she insisted, practically wrapping you in it as she did.

You didn’t wear it often though, only using it for special occasions. . . Such as sneaking out of the temple in the dead of night. Normal things like that.

Having resided on Corucant for most of your life, you knew the streets well and you navigated them with ease, blending in well as you did. Without your Jedi robes you were as common as the rest of the species who perused the streets.

Though you had a particular mission in mind unlike most of them: 79’S.

Normally you held little interest in the clone bar, despite it being a common discussion topic amongst the clones. . . But when you overheard Jesse and Fives talking about going the night before shore leave ended you couldn’t help but find your interest peaked.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t done stuff like this before- force when you and Anakin were younger it was a weekly occurrence to sneak out and wander the clubs and cantinas dressed in civvie clothes.

But it had been so long.

And if you were being honest you could do with a night out.

79’S wasn’t hard to miss, not with its giant neon sign and clusters of clones moving in and out of the doors. No one paid you a passing glance as you moved between the throngs of white armor. And if anyone did, they didn’t care.

Slowing to a stop in the middle of the raging bare you cast your eyes around you, thankful that over the years so many clones had picked up signature markings. But then again with the amount of time you were around certain members of the 501st it was easy to recognize their force signatures.

Your eyes moved across the room to one of the lit up circular booths in the corner. Fives was the first one you recognized, and the Jesse followed along with Hardcase, Kix, and Echo.

A sly smirk pulled on the corners of your lips as you ducked under a clones elbow, twisting between moving bodies as you navigated your way through the crowds.

Keeping your features hidden to the best of your ability you moved towards the table, none of them paying attention to you as they listened to some dramatic storytelling from Fives, the ARC trooper waving his hands wildly in the air as he did.

You didn’t allow him the satisfactory of finishing the story though, because instead you sharply slapped a palm down on the table earning all five sets of deep brown eyes to look up at you.

“Ma’am can we help you?”

Letting your fingers dance across the surface of the table you picked up one of the untouched shots littered about the table. “Getting drunk the night before mission? Mmm I thought you boys knew better.” You hummed, keeping your head low as you allowed your words to simmer.

“Uhhh-“

When you had finally had enough of your antics your amused smirk widened and you suddenly slid into the booth besides Fives, tooling back the shot as you did before turning to peak out at the ARC trooper next to you.

“I’m just kidding, I don’t care what you guys do.”

Fives eyes widened besides you and as you slowly looked around the rest of the table the others did the same.

“General!?”

Slapping a hand over the ARCs mouth you gave him a warning look. “Hey, keep it down!”

Fives nodded beneath your palm and as you slowly lowered your hand you let out a breath. Across the table Jesse leaned forward, keeping his voice as low as he could in the noisy bar. “General, with all do respect what are you doing here?”

“It’s shore leave isn’t it?”

Next to Jesse Hardcase leaned back in his seat, arms sprawled out against the back of the booth. “I didn’t know Jedi knew how to party. I ain’t complaining though.”

“Trust me when I say it isn’t exactly smiled upon, but c’mon- when have any of you known me to stick by the rule book?”

A chorus of rarelys and nevers went up around the table, making you grin.

“But I swear-“ you leaned forward, bracing your elbows on the table as you pointed a finger at all of them. “If you guys say anything I’m freezing you all in carbonite and using you as well decorations.” You paused, “now who wants to go get us a round of shots?”

———————

You could feel the buzz the alcohol was giving you but you were nowhere near drunk. Maybe tipsy but knowing your midichlorian levels that was as probably as good as it was gonna get. Fives, Jesse, and Hardcase on the other hand? They were twice as chaotic as they usually were, leaving you, Kix, and Echo to watch on in amusement.

“How many drinks does it normally take to get him on his ass?” You whispered, having somehow found your way in between Fives and Echo.

“You don’t wanna know.” Echo spoke over the rim of his cup, the two of you eyeing his brother.

“Got it.” Leaning forward slightly in your seat, you look across Echo at Kix. “Five credits he tries to challenge one of us to darts.”

“I’ll take that bet.” The clone medic reaching over to give you a solid hand shake.

But it would seem the rambunctious ARC trooper had other plans. “Uh guys- guys!” Eyes elsewhere, Fives slapping you in the shoulders.

“Kriff, Fives no need to hit so hard-“

“Code Red, code red!”

All sets of eyes apart from yours followed Fives line of sight, a chorus of curses going up as they did. The whole bunch practically sliding deeper down into their seats as if trying to lay low.

That’s when you found what they were looking at. . . Or rather who.

A certain blonde clone captain accompanied by another familiar clone clad in white and yellow.

“I’m getting the vibe that it isn’t common seeing them here.” You spoke softly, head titling slightly as you observed Rex and Cody walk up to the bar.

“Are you kidding me? I mean we constantly ask Captain if he wasn’t to join us but it’s always “I have reports to fill and so on and so forth-“ Fives mimicked, reaching for his drink that you casually slid out of reach from him, your eyes still on the blonde clone.

You considered Rex one of your closest friends, since the beginning of the war you had helped Anakin co- command the 501st, and with it you had become close with the clones under your command.

They were your friends, but none of them held quite a place in your heart such as Rex. He was everything a person should be. Understanding, kind, outrageously smart.

Being in his presence was like standing in a beam of warm afternoon sunlight.

You trusted him with your life.

“Twenty credits says if he spots us the General gives him a heart attack.” Jesse spoke, taking a sip from his drink as the six of you watched them from across the bar.

You blamed the buzz from the several shots for what you did next. “I’ll give you something even more entertaining.” With eerie ease you slid over Fives lap and out of the booth, once more adjusting the hood that was over your head.

“Should we be trying to stop her or-“

“Nah I wanna see how this plays out- plus she’s one of our superiors, I don’t think we can do anything to stop her now.”

As the night had worn on the crowds had somewhat thinned, making it easier to make your way to the bar. With both their backs turned to you a playful grin returned to your features.

You were going to milk this for all it was worth.

With an immense calmness you threw your arms over the shoulders of both the men, sticking your head in between the two of them. “Funny running into you two here. Come here here often?” You mused, eyes bouncing between the shocked looks on both their faces. . . Though Cody’s was also laced ever so slightly with amusement.

“General!” Taking notice of how loud the word came out of his mouth, Rexs eyes darted around before returning to you. “General, what are you doing here?”

“Avoiding my responsibilities.” You spoke casually, glancing over at Cody with an amused smile. “Commander I just know Obi-wan is gonna have a laugh when I tell him your out drinking before we all return from shore-leave.”

The amused look on Cody’s face fell slightly. “Kriff, please don’t tell him.”

“I’m just kidding, I won’t.”

Your turned back to Rex, leaving Cody to order his drink as you did. Y/e/c eyes met deep brown ones that you knew all too well. “I’m surprised to see you here general.”

“I’m honestly slightly surprised to be here. I’ll admit this wasn’t my plan when I woke up this morning.” You smiled, leaning slightly on the bar as you turned your body to face him. “And I definitely wasn’t prepared for a drunk Fives.”

From underneath his breath Rex let out a soft string of curses, before following the way you were nodding your head. You watched in amusement as your group of troopers sent their captain an awkward set of waves, Rex wincing in embarrassment at the state of the men under his command.

“Please tell me you didn’t get them drunk. . . “

“No, of course not!” You paused. “They already had drink when I got here. . . Though I will admit the three rounds of shots were on me—“

“Y/N!”

The use of your first name caught you somewhat off gaurd as Rex slightly scolded you, though the hints of a laugh could be heard behind it.

He had never called you by your first name before. It had always been General or General Y/L/N. For some reason it made you melt.

“What! I haven’t had fun like this in ages, give me a break!” You laughed, watching as Rexs face turned ever so slightly pink.

“If my men are hungover tomorrow I’m blaming you.” Rex shook his head, his own smile creeping across his lips.

“Deal. If they are I’ll bring you Caf for the next week.” You paused. “The good stuff Obi-wan has.”

Rex raised an eyebrow. “I’ll shake to that.” His gloved hand coming up to meet yours in a solid handshake, your nerve endings feeling as if that had just caught fire from his touch alone.

“Also you’re playing darts with us, c’mon-“ without giving him a second to speak you were yanking him out of his bar stool, unaware of the deepening shade of red on the captains face.

“General, I-“

“No buts. Plus Cody can watch your seat.” You mused, looking back over your shoulder at the commander of the 212th, the clone sending you an amused look as he brought his drinks to his lips.

“Don’t let him have too much fun General!”

“I would never!”

——————

It took longer than expected for you to get Rex out of his normal shell and loosen up. You managed to get two shots into him with the aid of several cheering clones and now he was demolishing Fives and Jesse on their fourth game of holo-darts, all the while a soft smirk had laid itself across his features.

You were slowly seeing a side to Rex you had never seen before.

“You got him wrapped around your finger you know.”

You hummed a response, lifting your glass to your lips as you watched Rex throw yet another dart at the board, earning a groan from Fives.

“Y/N-“

The use of your name pulled your attention finally, turning your head to look at Echo was was leaned against the wall next to you. “Sorry what did you say?”

Echo merely grinned, “I can bet you without a doubt that if you weren’t here Rex would not have agreed to play darts with us.”

“That’s because none of you were going to ask him.”

A pause.

“Alright fair point, but if we had he wouldn’t have.”

Playing with the tiny straw in your drink you let out a sigh. “Echo what are you trying to say?”

The only answer was a light laugh and a pat on the back before the ARC trooper moved forward to take his turn at the board.

Glancing around the bar you could tell it had gotten much later. Only a few little groups of clones still mingled, talking casually to one another while one or two sat passed at the bar. Cody had departed awhile ago, only stopping by to say farewell before heading back to the base.

The neon clock on the far wall told you that you should probably be heading out as well. You had to get up early tomorrow to re-walk the Resolute and make sure everything was in place for the upcoming missions.

Grabbing your cloak from where you had discarded it earlier when you had realized the crowds were thinning, you snapped it back into place.

“Alright boys, I’m calling it quits for the night.”

A series of protests went up, and though you prided yourself on how observant you were constantly you didn’t notice how the captain turned his attention towards you as you passed, an echo of his smile from playing darts still on his face.

“So early General?”

With a raised eyebrow you looked over your shoulder. This really was a new Rex. “Captain it’s past midnight. We all have to be up in a couple hours to catch the shuttles back up to the Resolute.”

It was clear Rex had lost track of time, his face falling as he looked past you at the clock on the far wall, it’s neon numbers blinking lazily. He let out a curse under his breath, shoving his remaining dart into the outreached palm of Jesse.

“I told General Skywalker I would have those reports finished by morning.”

“Ooh Captains in trouble.”

“Shut it Fives.”

Shaking your head in amusement you turned to depart, only getting as far as the main entrance before a figure was rushing after you. “General! Allow me to escort you back?”

As you looked over to your left you smiled at the blonde clone settling into a steady pace besides you, the two of you stepping out onto the slowly quieting Corucant street.

“I thought you had things to do captain?”

“I do, but the temple and the clone facility are in the same general direction. Plus it wouldn’t be right to have my general walking alone.”

There he was. Your sweet and polite Rex you had grown so very fond of. You were perfectly capable of defending yourself but you would also never turn down an evening stroll with your favorite captain. “Very well.”

As if you had done it a million times before you absentmindedly looped your arm through Rexs, pulling him slightly down the street, all the while being blissfully unaware of the startled look on the captains face and the red creeping across his cheeks.

In truth Rex had always looked at you like you were the most brilliant thing he had ever seen in the galaxy. The first time he saw you he didn’t think you were real. You were laughing at something General Skywalker had said, your head tilted back towards the sun, eyes squeezed shut tightly in joy.

He stumbled on half his words when he was finally introduced.

And now here he was, your arm looped through his as you led him down some neon lit street in the belly of Corucant.

“How was your shore-leave? I know it was only a week but-“

“It was fine, thank you General. Got caught up on a lot of cadet forms that had been piling up while we’ve been away.”

Laying your free hand atop Rexs arm you gave him a soft smile. “You can call me Y/N, at least for right now. No one else is around, plus I like when you call me by my name. Makes me feel more like an actual person and not a tool for the Republic.”

Rex was silent for a moment, any words that had been on his tongue a moment before had all fizzled out. Kriff, you were going to be the death of him.

“Y/N.” He said it slowly, almost as if laced with caution.

You beamed up at him, giving his forearm a pat. “Rex.”

He fell silent yet again. . . And then coughed awkwardly, turning his eyes ahead. “Uh, how was your shore-leave?”

“Boring. In the temple there’s a lot of time designated for self reflection. It gets boring and much to quiet if I’m being honest. I would rather be stuck in the barracks with the 501st-“

At that Rex let out an amused chuckle. “All due respect I don’t think you’d last a night in there. You haven’t had to go to sleep with the odor of Fives feet in the air. “

“Mm maybe not but when we were padawans there was a couple weeks where I had to share a bunk with Anakin, and let me tell you— half the time he smelled like a wet womp rat.” You paused, “but then again Hardcase sometimes smells that way too-“

You were surprised that your words got a full laugh out of Rex, his head tilting backwards as he laughed. The sight was enough to make your smile widen.

Kriff, you were in so much trouble.

“What?”

“You just said you were in so much trouble.” Rexs previous joyful expression had fallen, now laced with concern as he looked at you.

Oops. . . Apparently those words had not just been in your head.

The two of you paused at a crossroads. . . Literally. Though neither of you paid attention to the hundreds of ships and cruisers that buzzed by several yards above you.

“It’s nothing.” Shaking your head, you pulled yourself away from Rex, continuing forward.

“General- sorry- Y/N. Are you alright?” Folding his arms behind his back, Rex moved forward to sink into your pace.

“I—“ you paused, a tiny war raging inside your head as you weighed wether or not you should give him some explanation. “I am not a good Jedi.”

“What do you mean? I may not know much about Jedi but I know that for as long as I’ve known you you’ve done an excellent job.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, but I’m really not. I’ve made a really big mistake that no jedi is supposed to.”

Rex paused in his steps, watching you with a slight tilt to his head. “Which is?”

Your own steps faltered when you realized he had stopped, the action making you look back over your shoulder at him. “Jedi arnt allowed to form attachments. It’s considered a selfish act. . . And yet I’ve done it.”

A pause. “Forgive me but I don’t understand you jedi and your rules.”

“Heh, neither do I Rex. Neither do I.” Turning fully, you gave him a soft smile and for a moment you just watched him, waiting to see if he caught on.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You really don’t get it do you?”

Another pause. “Get what?”

Your feet was moving before your mind was but when it did catch up you made no move to stop it. You only halted when your toes of your boots were bumping against Rex’s, the captain looking down at you with a wide eyed and curious stare.

“The attachment I have is you, Rex.”

He said nothing, though you felt a shift in the air as his eyes widened and his cheeks turned rosy. “Me?”

“Yeah, I think it was set into place the moment I met you. With your awkward smiles and salutes and your unwavering kindness and understanding.” You looked down, slowly reaching out to grab Rex’s gloved hands.

“General-“

His voice brought your gaze upwards and with it Rex sucked in a gulp of air. “It’s Y/N.”

It was only when you slowly rose to the balls of your feet did Rex shift awkwardly, heat creeping down his neck as he realized what you were doing. “I’ve never kissed anyone before-“

“Neither have I.”

You both knew the risk you were taking and though neither of you spoke it, there was a silent promise that neither of you would say a word of it to anyone.

And with that you pressed your lips firmly to Rexs, and for the first time in a long time. . . The force around you felt right.

#captain rex #captain rex x reader #star wars #star wars clone wars #star wars x reader #jedi!reader

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iwas-princess · 1 year

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hey! submitting a request bc my bday is today !!

anyways i love your writing so i was wondering if you could please write a fic where y/n is getting followed by a guy and she goes up to the first guy she sees, atsumu, and is like omg babe! like pretending he's her bf so that she can get away from the creep, and bc atsumu,,, is well himself he initially pushes her off assuming shes a psycho fan, when he realizes the situation he obv pretends to be her bf and when the guy leaves he realizes y/n is so pretty but when he tries to ask for her number she like gives him a disgusted look, thanks him, and leaves

the next week hes at a red carpet event with the team and all the cameras leave them and go somewhere else (to y/n) and he asks like whos this "y/n" everyone's chanting abt??? and everyone on the team is like the yn??? how do you not know her?? famous writer/ceo yn?? and then he goes to see what she looks like and he realizes... its the girl from last week.. they end up interacting and start on a better note ,, so fluff at the end pls

this is so long but this idea has not left my mind for the past couple days thank you so much if you choose to write it <3333

happy birthday, sweetheart ! i hope you have a great day and get the presents you want. i changed it up just a ting but, so i hope that’s alright.

atsumu miya • my night in shining armor

“hey, um, are you busy?”

the sudden frantic sound of your voice alerted atsumu, causing him to drop his phone onto the floor of the dirty subway station.

you apologized hurriedly as he hastily picked up his phone, his earbuds being tugged out of his ears and shoved to his sides. he’ll listen to the rest of the game highlights later, he decides.

“not really. but, i don’t feel like giving out any autographs, so please leave me alone-“

you scruched up your face is disgust, your eyes looking him up and down judgmentally, which bruised his ego just a slight bit.

“um, yeah- no. i need you to pretend to be my boyfriend because some creep-“

atsumu chuckled dryly, and if you hadn’t already grown irritated with his confidence, you would have thought the sound was delightful.

but he was laughing at you.

“i’m gonna stop ‘ya right there, sweetheart.” he leaned forward, his strong arms resting on his knees at he spoke. “look, if ‘ya like me all that much, just say so. but, i can’t ‘pretend’ date ‘ya to impress your shitty friends, m’kay?”

you were flabbergasted, your mouth agape at his audacity. you had never been spoken to like that so shamelessly, not even by the pricks on corporate who used to hate your guts because heavens forbid that a women make a name for herself. your eyes narrowed, and you had just the speech that you were going to give this asshole until a familer uncomfortable face turned the corner behind him.

you gulped, and out of pure instinct, you grasped onto his msby sweat jacket.

“hey-“

“please— just fucking go with it. i’ll even give you a kiss.” you hissed quietly, your grip unconsciously tightening on his bicep as the strange man neared you.

“what are ‘ya gripping me so tightly for? what are ‘ya? some kind of crazed fan?”

your eyes rolled, already tired of the volleyball player’s company and praying that he goes along with your safe plan so you could just go home.

“sure. all explain everything when he,” you nudged his muscular chest lightly, taking note of how firm he was. “leaves. now, please just shut up and pretend you love me so i can go home safely.”

‘safely’

the word rang in his empty head continuously, like a echo of tragedy yelling into a serene cave. it finally clicked inside of his head.

you were in danger, and whoever this man was, scared you.

he puffed his chest, stifling back a cocky smirk as his large hand slid across your coat-clad back, pulling you close in a loving embrace to his hip.

you had to fight back to eye roll that you threatened to give him. of course he would over do this, any man in his situation would. sure, he put on a rocky front by pretending to have no idea who you were, but eventually he collapsed— like they always do.

the stranger’s eyes locked with yours, the dark look in his pupils caused your grip on the other strange man to tighten out of fear. atsumu noticed both the hold and way your breath caught in your throat as fright took over you. he had no clue who the hell you were, but suddenly felt protective over you.

he pulled you closer to you, whispering a very quiet ’i’ve got ‘ya.’ in your hair for reassurance, which oddly helped your body melt slightly into his.

his heart skipped at the feeling.

“hey, man. would you mind if i borrow her really quick? we have some…” the odd man eyed you up and down hungrily, no doubt the his intentions lingered on his scarred face. “important business to discuss.”

atsumu scoffed, hugging you impossibly closer to his side to comfort you even the slightest bit. his calloused fingers tightening around your sides before his thumb began to rub soothing circles.

“nah, sorry man. i’ve got my girl all to myself finally, been waiting all night.” he faked a large grin before turning his attention back down to you, staring down at you eyes to creat an intimate illusion.

might as well put on a show.

“wait-“ the man stepped back, stunned as he looked between you two observantly. “you two?”

‘oh shit.’ you thought. ‘this is going make the headlines and i don’t even know this guy. he’s not ugly at least, and his body feels nice and strong. it’s not like i’d have a dating rumor with some weirdo, at least.’

atsumu felt his stomach drop at the man’s accusation. if his fangirls thought he had anything going on, they would absolutely just die.

but, like the strong man he is, he kept his head high.

“yup, this is my wonderful princess. beautiful, isn’t she?” he gave your side a squeeze, for show of course. but it still didn’t fail to make your heart leap.

the strange man in front of you quirked an eyebrow at the msby’s setter’s enthusiasm, his stomach burning with jealousy. he turned his attention to you once he realized that he hadn’t heard a peep from you.

your blood went cold as his eyes locked with yours once more, the malicious intent still holding strong in his eyes.

“huh.” he scoffed, his dark irises lustfully looking at your chest and checking out the broad outline of your breasts through the heavy winter coat you adorned.

atsumu stiffened at the sight. this random stranger just checking out a lady so shamelessly made his blood boil.

“hey.” he hissed. “do ‘ya know who i am, buddy?”

his eyes turned to slants, the look on his once ecstatic face, now changed into red hot anger at the random’s man’s filthy behavior.

the man sputtered back at the volleyball player’s harsh tone, but held his pride high.

“of course i know who you are. who doesn’t?”

‘me, apparently.’ you thought.

your arms snaked around his broad waist, attempting to seem as if you were calming him down in your own secret language of love.

the action caused atsumu’s stomach to tighten. he had had female affection, plenty of it, but this seemed different. more loving and safe, not like the countless sexual encounters he so often experienced.

“well, then ‘ya’ll be wise enough to give me and my pretty princess some space, yeah?” atsumu hugged you closer to him, if it was even possible at this point, before glancing down at you for approval. you offered him a gentle smile to continue.

the other man scoffed, offended that you would choose atsumu miya over him— but who wouldn’t?

“yeah, whatever.” he grumbled.

giving him a cocky nod goodbye, the blonde lead you away, his arm wrapped tightly around your back as he ushered you out of the subway.

“thank you. so much. you have no idea how thankful i am for that-“

“the pleasure is mine, pretty lady.” he interrupted, his flirtatious personality leaking through the cracks of his once bruised ego.

he was healed from your past blow at him, the envious look on the strange man’s face as he walked away with you on his arm was enough to keep him going for another week.

you smiled to yourself.

“well, thank you anyway. you put on quite a good show back there… are you an actor? you’re obviously famous, i’ve pieced that together myself.” you asked, your voice growing quite at the last sentence.

he hesitated before answering, his feelings hurt by you yet again.

“ ‘ya seriously don’t know who i am?”

your walking stopped, halting to stare up at the man you had just met no more than five minutes ago.

you didn’t realize how much you didn’t notice about him; his blonde hair that hid away his brunette undercut, the bags underneath his hazel eyes from lack of sleep and too much physical activity, the fine line of his lips that were naturally stretched to a cocky smirk, and the very very broad shoulders that carried him so confidently.

this man was gorgeous, no mistake about that and if the circumstances were different, you would have asked for his number and invited him to dinner.

but, he was different. he seemed way too full of himself to allow you to have his number, major ceo or not. he seemed like the type to only go for fragile damsels— which wasn’t too far off from the situation— who flirted with him and fangirled whenever he so much as breathed around them; not a woman like you.

your dating history hadn’t exactly been easy, especially since you were one of the most powerful ceos in japan. men found your power and intelligence to be threatening, and ‘ruined their masculinity’ so, you hadn’t quite figured out how the whole dating scene worked for people of status like you yet.

“n-no, i don’t. i’m sorry.” you apologized, sincere and soft.

he shrugged it off, pretending as if your words didn’t just gut through his ego like a clam knife.

“it’s no biggie. i don’t really know who you are either, to be fair, princess.” atsumu teased.

your heart stopped at the nickname, your palms suddenly becoming sweaty and cheeks flushing. but, somehow, you felt relieved that finally for once someone didn’t recognize you.

“i-i’m y/n.”

you silently prayed that he hadn’t noticed the name from literally everywhere, but oddly enough, at the same time you hoped he had.

perhaps he’d trust you more and offer you a ride home or something of the sort.

but what if he felt totally intimidated by you and reacted as the many other men in your life had?

instead, he smiled widely and stuck out his other hand, offering a friendly shake.

“pretty name for a pretty girl.” he winked. “i’m atsumu, miya atsumu.”

he could have swore that stars inhabited themselves in your eyes, and they twinkled every time you looked up at him. your smaller arms clung onto his broad wait, hoping the he could promise you safety and protection. he had just met you and already found himself adoring you.

you offered him a kind smile back, flustered at the compliment he gave you but taking his much larger hand in your own and giving it a soft squeeze.

even his hands felt strong, like they could lift the weight of the world off of you shoulders if you asked.

the both of you stayed paused in the middle of the empty subway station, hand in hand and arms snaked around each other’s waists as you stared into each other’s eyes for the very first time.

he was beautiful, you thought. like a model. he had to be a model. if not an actor, a model for sure. or maybe an idol, you’ve seen plenty of japanese kpop idols, perhaps he was one and just visiting his home.

but you, man, did atsumu think you were beautiful? he couldn’t stop the tug on his heart strings every time you blinked up at him, a polite smile on your lips as a greeting. you deserved to be treated like a princess, he thought. just like he had began calling you moments before.

after a few silent moments, you began to feel awkward as the both of you gazed at one another— like a couple in love.

you cleared your throat at the thought.

“well, i should be getting home. my dog is due for a long awaited walk.” you giggled, letting your arms fall to you sides and break all physical contact with atsumu.

his smile fell slightly at the loss, your enchanting perfume filling his nostrils one final time.

“oh- um, yeah. ‘ya probably should go on home. i’ll walk ‘ya, if ‘ya’ll let me.”

you shook your head softly at his offer.

“no, i’m sure i’ll be fine now. i usually only get one creep a week, so this’ll be good for a few days.” you chuckled. “and i’m sure i’ll wake up to a dating scandal tomorrow.”

he chuckled, agreeing that the both of you would most likely be a headline in the morning.

and he’ll be in deep shit with his pr manager.

but he couldn’t care less about that right now, all that mattered was getting this pretty girl home safe and snagging her number.

he planned to take you out next week, to a real nice fancy dinner and treat you like a princess. hopefully, get another date after that and another one.

“ya sure? it’s no big deal-“

“i’m fine, thank you, atsumu.” you cut in.

he smiled tightly, and nodded. you took the moment of silence to wisk yourself away before you caught yourself up in a situation that you had gone through one too many times.

“well, i’m going to walk away now.” you announced. “thank you, again. i’ll keep you in my thoughts, miya atsumu.”

with that, you walked the other direction, power walking away from the kind man that you’ll never forget.

“wait!” he called out behind you. “i didn’t get..” before he could finish his sentence, you were already out of his sight, and lost in the crowd of rush hour. “your number.”

people bumped into him unapologetically, and it only took a few seconds before fans started to crowd all around him, blocking off any sight of you.

—

“y/n! y/n, over here!”

you turned your head over to the left, allowing the paparazzi on that side of the barricade to get better photos of you.

your famous grin was plastered on you face, your signature lipstick shade painted on your lips flawlessly and attracting the attention of nearly all of the reporters.

“y/n, is it true that you and miya atsumu are dating?” one questioned, shoving a microphone in your face rudely and impatiently awaiting your answer.

if there was anything that you learned from countless dating rumors, it was that you should never confirm nor deny an accusation.

if you say ‘no’, all of the creeps who once used to follow you around, will start back up again and you were sure that this time you might actually get in terrible trouble soon. the harassment from those cruel individuals had just halted, mainly because most feared the large man who was reportedly ‘your boyfriend’.

if you say ‘yes’, a hoard of angry fans will troll you and both of your management teams would be very displeased. even, if it were true.

so, you stuck to your favorite trick in the book.

“where did you get that information?” you chuckled, looking around the large flock of attention-hungry reporters and paparazzi, eager for you answer.

the reporter smiled nervously, her hands sweaty and shaky as she tried her best to indirectly give you an answer.

“w-well, you know, the articles are floating all over right now, miss. y/l/n. surely, you must know of them by now.” she gave her camera crew a reassuring look, as if the man behind the large camera set was anxious himself.

you smiled and nodded.

“yes, i am very aware of what people are saying.“

this answer wasn’t enough for any of the gossip starved reporters, because as soon you finished your sentence, they all gave you a awaiting look.

you sighed softly. you hated pulling this, it seemed as if the answer always revealed itself from the statement, but you found yourself backed into a corner.

“i’m going to have to disappoint all of you and say ‘no comment’ for now.”

most of the reporters groaned, but others smirked to themselves and scribbled their next article onto their blank notepads.

this’ll be great.

“princess? is that you?”

your heart stopped beating at the sound of that oh so familiar voice. you hadn’t been able to get it out of your head for a week now and the refreshing sound of it was so calming in a time like this.

but, the timing was awful.

“oh my god! did you all just hear what he just called her?” the woman gasped, gaping proudly at the camera in front of you both.

the other reporters gasped in delight, their greedy minds bursting with new article ideas.

you could picture the headlines now.

‘big three ceo, y/n y/l/n, and major professional athlete miya atsumu share an intimate moment on red carpet.’

bleh.

you turned around, stunned as your widened eyes set on the setter. he cleaned up good. real good.

he beamed at you, a large smirk growing on his face before he embraced you in a tight hug.

his face found the crook of you neck, nuzzling in close to you ear before whispering.

“i’ve got ‘ya. just go with it.”

even the way he whispered sent shutters down your exposed spine.

his hands sprawled across your bare back, absentmindedly running a finger along your spine.

you gasped.

“atsumu! not here!”

hey, he said just go with it.

he chuckled into your cheek, giving you a quick peck.

“just like that, princess. yer doing great.” he whispered against you, praising you for your last outburst.

people began to surround you two now, crowds upon crowds circled your conjoined bodies, his sleek black suit and your ruby red dress making quite the impression already.

he pulled away to look at your face, but spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“had to come see my girl while i was here. it would be cruel if i didn’t, don’t ‘ya think?” he called out to the audience.

hundreds of cameras flashed and captured the ‘loving moment’ between you two.

oh yeah, you both are for sure making headlines tomorrow and for the rest of the month. it’ll be all anyone talks about, you were absolutely sure of it.

why was he doing this? he doesn’t seem to be in dire need of an excuse…

he patted you in the top of you head gently, before leaning in and giving you cheek a peck. the crowd went ballistic, shouting hoorays and gasps as cameras flashed even more now.

“you two are official now!” the reporter squealed, proud that she of all news outlets captured this whole interaction on live tv. “so how do you-“

“sorry, darling, i’ve gotta go. my team is waiting fer me. but,” he leaned in once more, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

your mind exploded, butterflies dancing all around your internal organs as your hands took his.

but, something grasped your fingers as they entered his right palm. he slipped it into your hand, sliding it between your fingers. you could tell it was a small piece of paper, but couldn’t depict what the importance of it was.

he pulled away, no doubt smirking at the way the audience went even more crazy, but winked when you glanced down at your conjoined hands fleetingly.

“my number.” atsumu whispered under his breath, gentle enough that only you could hear before letting go of your hands and waving the stunned crowd goodbye.

you stood there, shocked and excited.

you hadn’t even exchanged an hour worth of conversation with that man, and now the both of you are reportedly dating. great.

your mother will be so happy to hear about this one…

#atsumu 🌷#atsumu miya #atsumu x chubby reader #atsumu miya x chubby reader #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #atsumu x reader fluff #atsumu miya x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff

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spahhzy · 4 months

Text

Call~

Jaune sheathed his blade away as the last of the white fang were stopped and restrained.

Looking behind him, he saw Blake hugging her teammates before looking towards him and nodding at him.

Jaune nodded back and gave a smile.

It seems Blake had decided to tell her team the truth.

Good for her.

"Jaune?" Came the voice of his partner Pyrrha.

"Pyrrha! Are you alright?" Jaune asked her a concerned look on his face as he looked up and down for any signs of damage.

"I'm fine, Jaune, no need to worry, though I'm afraid Nora had sustained some injury, but Ren is seeing to her now, although it looks like she will need some medcial treatment from Vale hosital." Pyrrha said, and Jaune nodded.

"Alright, good"

"What about you, Jaune? You took a nasty hit for that mech, " asked Pyrrha, concerned as well, but Jaune waved off her worries.

"It's nothing my aura couldn't handle," Jaune said before motioning to the ambulance carrying Ren and Nora.

"Pyrrha, go with Ren and Nora to the hospital, I need to stay around just a bit more and make sure no white fang grunts are still lurking before Atlas military comes in and cleans up" Jaune told her but Pyrrha seemed hesitant at this idea.

"Wouldn't it be better if both of us were on guard here?" Pyrrha asked, and Jaune nodded.

"Yes, but if some grunts are still stragling, they could use any of the weapons here or stashed else where and do some major damage, that's why I need you up and mobile to protect everyone including our teammates." Jaune said with a smile as he put a hand on Pyrrha shoulder.

Pyrrha, seeing the look of trust in Jaune's eyes, nodded and made her way to the ambulance in which Nora and Ren were in before nodding to her leader.

Jaune nodded back before turning to look back at the docks.

Blake and the rest of Team RWBY had left the scene as well, not wanting to get caught up in any questioning that Ironwood would undoubtedly want to ask.

Walking to the center, Jaune just looked around at the destruction as he could hear the sound of incoming squad and heavy armor vehicles arriving to the scene.

Jaune breathed in before giving a whistle.

It didn't last long five seconds at most, and then it was complete silence, other than the waves splashing against concrete and the rapid beating of his heart, Jaune could only hope and prey she was alright, he didn't know how involved she was in the little rally, hell he wished she had no part, Roman neither but we'll they really got the short end of the stick with this 'client' they're working with.

Jaune locked his lips and was ready to whistle again when all of a sudden...he heard a whistle sound right back to him.

His heart jumped for joy in hearing it, and his smile grew brightened.

Jaune didn't turn to the direction of said whistle he didn't need to.

She was safe.

That was all that matters.

With that, Jaune decided too make his departure.

Up in the roof tops above, a pink and brown haired individual traversed silently, narrowly escaping the failure of that rally.

Stupid plan.

Stupid people.

Stupid client.

Stupid stupid stupid.

Now she just wanted to get back to the safe house and rest, Roman got out safely, which was good, but still...

That mech tried to crush Jaune.

Her heart hurt a bit at that, but she knew he could handle it. He is her knight, after all.

Still, even if they needed to make it look convincing. 'Hurting' Jaune wasn't something she actively was looking to do, stupid Cinder.

Making sure the coast was very much clear, Neo prepared to make her escape. The valley may have been a failure, but it didn't stop Cinder from advancing her plans, and apparently, the next phase was coming soon that needed her. So, she had to keep a low profile.

Getting ready to leave, Neo prepared to flee when she heard a whistle echo throughout the area.

Neo's eyes widened.

She recognized that whistle!

She peeked around the wall and smiled to see down below Jaune, in the center, using their little call to each other.

He was making sure she was safe.

Aw.

If he could see her now, she would definitely be teased for the little sprinkles of red on her cheeks by him.

Neo whistled back in their special call, letting him know she was okay and safe.

She watched as he left the scene and prompted her to leave as well.

The whistle is from Lobo's/Deaths from Puss in Boots: The Last Wish.

Jaune whistles the first half (Are you safe?).

Neo whistles the 2nd half (I am safe).

#jaune arc #neopolitian (rwby)#rwby silent knight #rwby pyrrha

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neverchecking · 10 months

Note

That recent Sage fic u wrote was MUAH BELOVED But now we can't get enough 🧍‍♀️so if it isn't much of a hassle and u still have some room, may I request a oneshot (it can be HCs too if u want) exploring how much of a.. hawk Sage is guarding and protecting Reader? It's like a follow up fic of ur last one

Look. Look. Y'all are straight up feral for this man and I love feeding you guys.

It's no hassle at all darling, and I always have room! I went with HC's bc they're easier when it comes to spitballing like this.

Also, me and @eeveelutionqueen1995 have decided that Wild (Blue Nightshade), Calamity (Silent Princess) and Sage (Sundelion) are now the Flower Garden trio. The council has SPOKEN-

I was gonna wait to post this tomorrow, but y'all can thank @lovanmari because their art of Sage had me BARKING- so have this as a treat from me to you.

Sage, for those new here, is TotK Link! So spoilers below!

The 'last' one can be found here!

・❥・After resigning himself to your pitiful cause, Sage decides to get you to a stable first and foremost. He has no idea how old your injury is nor how well taken care of it, if at all, so he needed to get a grasp on that.

・❥・He couldn't risk losing his only support in this cruel world due to an infection caused by neglect by things far out of his control.

・❥・So, that was first. The stable hands greeted him with a smile-- shaky and unsure of his normally glowering features much less stiff as you babbled on about this group of yours.

・❥・They knew better than to push him though, simply giving you both a large berth after he snapped his glare at a stable boy that tried to offer you a water canteen.

・❥・He gave you his own while wordlessly daring anyone else to try that. He had no idea where that water came from. Whose to say this stablehand wasn't Yiga? What if it was poisoned?! He couldn't risk it.

・❥・He made sure your injury was wrapped and treated properly, before anything else, listening to you go on and on about something or another. He answered the questions you had ("What kind of flower is that?" "...Sundelion." "That's a huge Bokoblin! Do they all come that size?" "No, just the boss Bokoblins." "Those are thing? Are they tougher than regular Bokoblins?" "...Not anymore.") calmly and succinctly,

・❥・Just as he sat back to try and figure out the best route of action from this point on (His day to day life was so dangerous. He'd have to make some serious adjustments if he wanted to keep you within arms reach. There was no question after this that you were his- even if you didn't know it yet- and he couldn't very well just leave you at this stable. He did have a home on the outskirts of Tarrey town. No one would hear your screams or pleas for escape...) the sound of some sort of warbling caught his attention and yours.

・❥・He immediately jumped to action as he stepped in front of you, pulling out the Master Sword-- that he recently retrieved-- and holding out his shield. The Sage spirits echoed his stance as he allowed them to roam, your excited squeak making his ears twitch. He'd have to show them to you up close after the threat was disengaged.

・❥・In front of him, a portal of some sorts-- a dark purple with three straight edges--wavered in front of him, testing his patience as it remained frustratingly dormant.

・❥・"That's one of the portals I was talking about!" You called from behind him, running up to stand behind him with your hand, soft and free of blemishes, settling on his shoulder.

・❥・That meant either this supposed Dink (What a dumb name for a being of evil) or your damned group was making their grand (re)appearance.

・❥・He wasn't sure which option he loathed the idea of more.

・❥・The first one to pop through the portal was a tall blond adorned in armor and an eyesore of a scarf. Immediately, he could only see all of the weak points this...man showcased. (He had no protection anywhere near his thighs, nor his neck, meaning if he could fake a hit at either one he could quickly redirect a swipe at the other and hopefully nick an artery-)

・❥・He was just about to do just that when you stepped around him. "Wars!"

・❥・Ah. So you knew him. He was part of your disgraced group...Or was he?

・❥・Quickly grabbing your arm, he made sure you stayed close as you glanced back at him. He kept his gaze on the imposter. "Remember what I said about the puppets."

・❥・You thought for a second before frowning, stepping back behind him. He had warned you of Ganon being able to make lifelike puppets. So close to the real thing they almost fooled even him.

・❥・You took his warning in head even as the other turned to look at him. And you. Mostly you if the look of pure admiration written all over his features said anything.

・❥・"Oh, my precious Angel, you're safe!" He cried out, moving to step closer before Sidon's trident clanged noisily against Yunobo's Boulder breaker, creating an 'x' right in front of where he stood, pushing you behind him.

・❥・"Come no closer!" He barked at the startled man. "State your name and business, but come no further."

・❥・The man glowered at him, fingers twitching on the hilt of his weapon. The portal wavered behind him but it was forgotten as Link tightened his grip around the Master Sword.

・❥・"I am here for them. We were separated, but, as you can see, we've been reunited. Your...assistance is no longer needed." The other, Wars, growled out through ground teeth. "I'll take it from here."

・❥・"I'm sure you'd like that." He barked back, lowering his stance as his teeth bared themselves. He wasn't against charging teeth first and using his weapon as an afterthought.

・❥・Wars grimaced at the primal response. Then he seemed to remember himself, sending you a positively pitiful glance. "Angel, you have no idea how long we've been looking for you-"

・❥・"Y/n!" Another voice called, much younger and much closer than Link anticipated. A young boy, looking much like the other male-- same blond hair and blue eyes--ran right up to the Sage spirits. "It's me. Wind! You know me!" He cried, tears welling up in his wide eyes. "Don't tell me you forgot me!"

・❥・You broke free of his grasp before he could readjust it, running forward to cradle the youngest one to your chest. "I would never!"

・❥・Oh, this just wouldn't do at all.

・❥・"Y/n-" He hissed, stepping closer to retrieve you before a weapon was swung towards him. His own met it before it collided with his shoulder, pushing it off of him as he was met with an eerily familiar face. Riddled with scars and with hair too long to be practical, he realized he was met with another contender for your attention.

・❥・The scarred man snarled his own grimace, with his own teeth bared-- canines comparatively sharp to his own. His body language said everything he didn't. Back the fuck up.

・❥・He did not. He grew closer, getting up in the other's face. Not a chance in the fiery depths of hell.

・❥・"Move." Was all Link said, the other refusing to do so, before your hands were pushing against his chest. He followed the direction you pushed him in, as gentle and loving as you were with everything.

・❥・"They are not our enemies, Link." You whispered, eyes wide and pleading. He almost felt as if he had no choice but to listen.

・❥・And then there was a fucking small army behind you and he was on the offensive again. Who were these people, threatening to take you away from him?!

・❥・"Stand down!" A loud voice barked. The authority in it was present as he eyeballed the source. Tall. Blond haired and blue eyed with tattoos or markings of some sorts on his face. One eye was shut with a scar dragging over it with his own armor gleaming in the light. "We mean no harm." The gleam in his eye said otherwise.

・❥・He did not back down, but he did allow you to step in front of him. Even if he quickly wrapped an arm around your hips. That earned him a few glares. Good.

・❥・"He doesn't either!" You quickly reassured. "This is another Link!"

・❥・...I'm sorry, did you say another? Were these all...him? He sincerely hoped not. It seemed the rest of them agreed as another one, seemingly younger than that Wind character if his height was anything to go by, stepped up, pushing against Sidon's Trident, even if it didn't move. "My jewel, you know I would never doubt you, but...are you sure?"

・❥・You hurriedly explained everything to them, even going as far as to raise his hand that clutched the Master sword in front of them. He eyed their cautious expressions before another was stepping forward. He had some sort of white cape wrapped around him and was holding another version of the Master Sword, supposedly, in front of him. She didn't quite gleam like his did, but he supposed that was because his was fresh from a ten thousand year power nap.

・❥・"Then he wouldn't mind putting what you say to the test, would he, songbird?" The sword was offered.

・❥・In an act of pure spite, his own was sheathed as he kept his hand around your waist, reaching forward and wrapping his fingers around the blade. The blade let out a chime before an echo rung in his head.

・❥・'Welcome, Hero of the Zonai.'

・❥・...He was going to kill Hylia.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #legend of zelda #loz #link x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere sage x reader #yandere sage #lu sage #legend of zelda totk #It's our feral boy #Sage #NO WAIT #ITS YA BOI #SAGE

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gamelpar · 11 months

Text

Which comes first, milk or cereal?

Ponds: cereal, obviously!

Cody: what kind of sociopath puts the milk in before the cereal.

Wolffe: milk, obviously.

Cody: i'm going to kill wolffe

Hardcase: i eat the cereal straight out the box then drink a bunch of milk and then breakdances so everything gets mixed inside my belly

Stone: i saw representative binks try to make a bowl of cereal once and it was so traumatic i can never eat cereal again

Rex: i have to send in more requests for cereal and milk than anything else including armor and weapons because half the time the boys don't even eat it they use it for pranks. do you have any idea how many shinies have come crying to me because there's no cereal because fives decided to glue cereal to everyone's armor for 'extra crunchy protection'?

Bacara: i pour milk and cereal into one big bowl, i eat it all and then i put the empty boxes back to crush my brothers' dreams problem solved

Kix: as long as you’re eating for the most important meal of the day i'm happy with you

Jesse: kix says i can't eat cereal for every meal because it's not healthy and i say if cereal is what kills me then that's how i go

Wooley: if you don't have a bowl for your cereal and milk your helmet will do just fine!

Gree: i had pepsi for breakfast. does that answer your question?

Boost: the only right way to eat cereal is with juice, and the juice always goes first in

Thire: i was so tired once i took milk then cereal then bowl and then i cried

Echo: i eat little handfuls of cereal at a time, like little snack breaks!

Bly: aayla showed me that cereal first minimize milk splatter she's so smart i love her and she gets new flavors with toys in the box for whole battalion whenever she can she's so wonderful i love her and

Hound: i prepare a bowl of cereal for grizzer every morning and she only likes it when i put the milk first

Sinker: i do cereal shots. alcohol then cereal then i dunk it i think my general's getting worried

Fives: pour milk directly into the box, waste no bowls!

Dogma: but i wanted cereal too

Tup: you can share with me! *pours milk before cereal*

Dogma: *screeches*

Neyo: i haven't eaten anything in years

Boil: cereal before milk. cody has had to reinforce this rule at least five times in the 212th

Waxer: cody first reinforced the 'cereal before milk' rule when he saw me take milk before cereal and he was sure i had a concussion and then he almost had one of his own when he realized that i was physically fine

Thorn: do you know how many times i have to stop fox from adding caf to his cereal instead of milk? Every Time.

Fox: the only acceptable fuel in the morning is 5 cups of caf and many more

#clone troopers #tcw #star wars #commander cody #captain rex #commander wolffe #commander fox #commander ponds #commander bly #wolfpack #501st legion #coruscant guard #212th battalion #commander bacara #commander neyo #commander gree #sw crack

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cerame · 8 months

Text

Artisan’s and Archer’s designs

So a little bit ago, I got a compliment on the two designs of Echoes of Courage I'm proudest of. I do love all these characters, but these two took a bit more creativity on my part, so I'm going to explain them because I am a sucker for design. I will try to remember as many of my own details as I can, but no promises.

Let's explain Archer first.

Behold, the most recent Link! Breath of the Wild took a departure from the classic green, so I kept with that and made his tunic the main splotch of color on him. The browns and monotone colors are subdued in comparison so that the blue can have the spotlight.

In regards to the tunic itself, botw and totk both have significant influence from traditional Japanese culture, as seen with the sheikah taking on a more japanese fashion sense and the dragons being eastern instead of european shaped, so I kept that with the design of his shirt. His tunic was originally the shape it was in botw, but after the calamity, it sustained such damage that Impa was only able to save some parts of the tunic. Using those parts, she repaired it as best she could, but Archer took a liking to Kakariko fashion anyway, so he's perfectly happy with it. In addition, with the looser fashion of the ancient clothes, I changed his belt to a more ribbony shape.

Thinking about how his shirt might have worked during botw. Perhaps he wore it as a haori, or maybe it was damaged, of a shorter cut, etc. and his Zelda made him the current one. Nothing is concrete about that yet, and I think it would be neat if it was different than it is post-totk.

The turtleneck and the leather armor from the new tunic in totk is incredibly charming to me, so I naturally had to keep it, but in order to show it off practically over the tunic I'd decided on, his sleeve got pulled down. I also designed him before totk came out but after the first trailer came out, and from the trailers, we could all tell that something was going to happen to his arm. I had no idea what purpose it would serve or how Link would end up by the end of the game, so I kept his arm covered up but outside his shirt. Turned out to be a good call.

As for his hair, I loved seeing his hair down so often in totk. It feels all free and wild and soft, so I kept it, except it felt a bit impractical to have it hanging all around him like that, so I did a half-bun. He gets to keep his hair down while tying it out of his face. This also lends itself further to eastern style inspiration.

A note on the smaller details: he does wear his amber earrings, and he's got scars across his body.

Now, we have Artisan.

It was a bit more difficult to figure out Artisan at first. I took inspiration from as many links meet aus as I could find, but everything for him is so varied, and while it's fun, it does make it difficult to nail down what does work. Unlike with Archer, I had no real direction in the beginning, so I searched for what made him unique as a Link. I also went back to the original ideas of character design, the most prominent being outlines and silhouettes. I'm still a bit iffy on his silhouette, but overall, he works.

First, the albw aspects: His bracelet from Ravio went inactive after the rifts between Lorule and Hyrule closed, but he still wears it. It's becoming comforting to him. As for the clasp on his cloak, it is absolutely the two triforces, and he got it custom-made in Hytopia. His pegasus boots are also from albw, and since Collector and Forge both had their unique pegasus boots, I had to come up with something just as striking for Artisan..... and then, I looked upon none other than the Zelda cartoon of olde, and I decided that Artisan would absolutely wear over-knee boots. So that's what he got.

Now, his triforce heroes parts. I know the green one is player one and all that jazz, but I wanted to see if I could do something not-green, just like Archer or even Piper. The sword suit in the costume catalogue stood out, and not just because the red link is wearing it in the official art. It's more tame than most other choices, and it's casually royal, which is a strange flavor of style, but I discovered after significant experimentation that when you pair it (or the idea of it) with poofy bardic sleeves (yellow, courtesy of albw's blue tunic) and gloves, it takes on an almost roguish look while maintaining the fancier feel. Also, when I lined him up next to Collector and Scout, I found that their colors together were red, blue, then green, and I couldn't not keep him blue after realizing that.

Notes: his cloak is still a bit weird to me, but I've gotten too used to it. Hytopia pushes the boundaries of fashion anyhow, so he can do whatever he likes. His hair is dyed because that's just fun, and it's braided because everyone else in this AU has short hair or a ponytail, and I wanted him to feel more well-groomed than everyone else. He gets to take care of it, and he has gotten hair care advice from Princess Styla. I didn't originally intend for this effect, but the pale outlines of white and gold on his clothing really make his outline pop. The consecutive dark colors of his tunic, pants, and boots would not work without those lines. His eyes are, in fact, purple! Ravio, in turn, has green eyes. I did doubt the choice of yellow sleeves at first, since it's not exactly the secondary color of my choice, but I went with it, and I was pleasantly surprised to see it work so well. Perhaps it was the yellow of his hair and the golden accents, but I am very pleased with it. He only comes a century or so after Collector, so I had to pick a tunic shape that could hold similarities between the two of them, which is why the collar of their outer layer is the same for both of them.

Archive

#my art #loz au #legend of zelda #links meet au #echoes of courage #EoC Artisan #EoC Archer

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frickatives · 9 months

Text

[teaser] against better judgement [f!reader bounty hunter x mando]

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[a/n] HI HELLO I've had this enemies-to-lovers fic idea rattling around in my brain for a year or so, and I decided I'm going to put it out into the world! I've had so much fun reading everyone's Mando fics over the years, and I'd love to be more active in the community. Setting is post-season-2, and will deviate wildly from canon from there. I'm planning to have the first chapter ready to go (hopefully) next Monday (8/14), but until then I wanted to get the first snippet out into the world to get more comfortable sharing my writing after not doing so for... at least a decade, whoops. I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE YOUR WEEK IS FULL OF DELIGHT ❤️❤️❤️

[warnings/tags] canon typical violence, gore (? light body horror??), mentions of death and injury, thirst for sweet vengeance, fem!reader, no use of y/n, the slowest burn, enemies to lovers, bounty hunter reader, comically hostile workplace

[wc] ~700, just a lil' preview/intro

You crouch down behind the rock, not believing your eyes.

They have to be wrong. Misinformed. You must be imagining things, because you think you're seeing an all-too-familiar quicksilver jackass creeping up on your bounty, and that simply isn't possible.

You look again. Quadruple checking.

Sure enough, it's him. He's kneeling by the entrance to the bunker, tracking fob in hand. You'd know that ridiculous helmet anywhere.

Rage boils over in your gut, so fast that it physically cramps something. You knew that the kriffing Guild– that kriffing Karga offered to keep the sentient trash chute on as a hunter, even after what he did to them – to you – on Nevarro, but being confronted by it makes you break into a cold sweat. You'd heard he'd turned the Guild down, but the very real hunter taking a few paces away from the bunker's hatch says otherwise.

The scar that bisects your chest and abdomen aches and tightens. Your hand settles over it, out of habit.

He blows the bunker door open with a charge.

The sound echoes, ricocheting across the barren, rocky surface of the valley, bouncing up the stony hillsides around you. You flinch. You've been on edge this whole damn time, even before that bastard showed up – you don't like being forced to take the low ground. It feels too much like begging to get shot.

Your armor scrapes against stone, and you duck down as quickly as you can in case he's heard – it's unlikely, over the sound of the blast, but you remember what it was like to be hunted down by those Mandalorians on Nevarro.

Their reflexes were preternatural.

You remember waking to the sound of a gunfight outside, and rushing out of the hostel with your sidearm in-hand, and stepping into a street overflowing with chaos and screaming. You didn't know what was happening. It seemed like nobody did.

You saw Guild hunters, a few you recognized from Karga's place, taking aim at the sky.

You remember looking up, too, and then fighting for your life against a small army of Mandalorians. You had no idea where they'd come from, why they were attacking the city, but you knew the men from the Guild and you didn't want to see them killed.

You fought for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, until you were cornered in an alley by a big brute with a wicked curved blade of mirror-polished beskar.

You remember being cut open. Filleted. One powerful swipe of that blade, one bad misstep of your own treacherous feet. You remember the feeling of parts of you shifting – slipping around inside, spilling out, moving to places they didn't belong. That sensation haunts you, yanks you out of sleep by your throat some nights, even now, even months and months later.

You remember the indignation. The wrath. How dare they do this to you? How dare they kill you here, like this?

But they hadn't. You'd woken up a few days later in a half-rate bacta tank, and you'd heard the story of the siege on Nevarro.

Heard that it was his fault. That loner Mandalorian, freshly kitted out in head-to-toe beskar, who never so much as had a conversation with any of you before he decided to sic his underground militia on you all.

You ought to be afraid, you think. This ought to be grounds for scrapping this whole job. Any reasonable person would turn tail, run back to the shuttle depot, and catch the fastest ride off this rock, rather than risk a repeat-filleting.

You've never been a reasonable person.

You're too focused on the astronomical odds of the situation: him, here, unaware of your presence; you, alive, armed, angry, and poised to do something about it, after all this time. The opportunity for vengeance is too sweet, too ripe. It's like the universe is placing it in your palm, wrapping your fingers around it with her gentle, generous hands. Whispering for you to just take it.

Tucked into your hiding spot behind the rock, millions of clicks from Nevarro, resolve settles like a brick in your stomach.

You're going to kill the Mandalorian.

[continue to chapter 1]

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #mando x reader #mando x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fic #mando fic #enemies to lovers

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enigmatist17 · 11 months

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Catch me thinking about all the clones "waking" up in the past after their final brother (read Rex and Kix) eventually dies

I want to say they just kind of wake up a handful of years before the clone wars start

Most of the commanders are teenagers, and the original batchers like Fordo/Alpha-17 and all are in their early 20's

At first they don't act on anything, most of them having hidden tearful reunions while the longnecks don't seem to notice a change among their clones

--> Rex has the most challenging time adjusting, having been the last one for so long that it's almost too much to have faces of the past around him. It helps when Fives and Echo find him one night, and the three are just a crying mess in a corner where the longnecks won't think to look for them. Kix joins them wordlessly, having still been silent about his own life years and years after they all had died.

Once they all figure out that almost everyone has "woken" up, it's all too easy to take Kamino for their own. It's before the war, the Jetti don't know them yet, and the chips are told to those who died before/during their activation. Many tears are shed when Order 66 is discussed by the few survivors, and those who had a hand in killing their Jetti only feel guilt until they all collectively realize that it won't happen this time

The Kaminoans don't realize that the clones are taking the city for themselves until it happens. They move way too precisely for non-combatants, but they slice through security and lock down everything like they knew all the codes since birth, and by the end of a rotation Tipoca and its adjoining facilities are under their control.

Jango is confused by what just happened, and even more so when he starts to realize all the clones are speaking a set of mando'a that is entirely that of his clones, and apparently know this language despite not being very old. They don't seem to want to hurt him either, looking at him with eyes that are haunted like those of a veteran soldier. The one he calls Kote eventually takes pity, and after ensuring what he would hear couldn't be recorded or broadcast, they speak.

He speaks of a war that takes so many lives, how he was used and made easy to execute, and how his clones were used and abused until the fall of the Republic and everything else.

Jango is silent the entire time, and eyes Boba sleeping in his room more than once. He had come to Kamino a long time ago to give his DNA, another job on the list, but to hear that the clones adopted what they could from what culture he taught some of the earliest clones stirred something in him.

Overall, Jango doesn't step in their way, and they don't force him to do anything, just awed to see the Prime that only so few had seen the first time.

Someone eventually has the bright idea to alert the Jetti instead of waiting for a few years, and it's decided that Fox would lead the initiative. Fox is honored and no he doesn't tear up a little bit, you saw nothing (he's lying, and the former Guard commander doesn't want to leave Tipoca at first, if he sees Coruscant, it'll be too soon)

He goes anyways, with Hound, Cody, Fordo, and Ponds following suit, a silent Jango hopping onto their ship clad in full armor. The clones have decided to have only Fordo in his armor, and the others are wearing some "civilian" clothes they'd stitched together to try and not be obvious they're all alike. Fox nearly has a panic attack when he lays eyes on the Senate building they pass over, and is surprised when Jango of all people steadies the younger clone.

They don't just walk into the Jedi Temple, instead leaving some carefully placed data sticks where they know they'll be seen, and after refueling head back to Kamino, so as to not alert a specific someone. Fox knows that they'll be soon gathered up by padawans, and that darker forces wouldn't think to search in a random Temple wall.

It takes the Jetti over a month, but when Kenobi's interceptor pierces the stormy clouds, there is a buzz of excitement.

The Jedi in question doesn't understand the sheer outpouring of joy when he steps out of his ship, and has to take a second to ground himself otherwise he'll start grinning (seriously why were they happy, he's never seen them before)

He's not sure what to expect, but the massive facilities that seem to be run by children are...not what he imagined, children with the eyes of battle-worn soldiers that watch his every move.

They don't tell Obi-Wan everything, pretending that they have information from a source that the Sith lord they seek is on Coruscant and that they will not be conscripted for a Republic they know nothing of.

Obi-Wan can tell they're lying a bit, but doesn't press. He also doesn't understand why they would be conscripted in the first place, but the clones are nothing but kind and respectful, with not a hint of darkness amongst any of them.

He stays for a few days, and eventually, the Force itself decides to speed things along and gives Obi-Wan a vision of a future from a sleeping Cody's mind, showing the Jedi years of trust that ended in devastation. Cody wakes up to Obi-Wan wrapped around him, and his heart sings for the first time in so long.

I am Filled With Thoughts

#personal #star wars #the clone wars #swtcw #star wars the clone wars #order 66 fix it #kinda?#time travel fix it

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redisaid · 9 months

Text

Beneath the Blue Moon - Chapter 8

Full

Oh hi. I missed the girls. I’m back on the train of this bullshit again.

Expect a new poll for choices on chapters 9 and 10 in a few days.

7052 Words

Read it on Ao3!

When the wind bends the branch to softly touch me, When the band plays your song, I feel strong enough to keep dreaming, Even when I'm all alone, Our love goes on and on.

Sylvanas decided that there was no worse idea ever had than that of trying to host a luncheon across the span of two ships tethered to one another. And as painful as the creaking of rope and wood and canvas against one another was to her elven ears, the fact that Jaina was just a gangplank away from her, and had been this entire time, yet still would not look at her, was far worse.

Otherwise, the summit was going well. As well as could be imagined, really. Horde and Alliance alike were enjoying tea and finger sandwiches on a sunny day in the harbor of an offshore island deemed too far away from Dazar’alor to pose a threat. Both of them were digesting Sylvanas’ words with their food, her explanation of the threat that faced them all, and the price she feared the world would pay for the theft of her soul.

Her selfish dooming of Azeroth. Nothing unusual, really. Old news before it was even news.

Just as the situation was with Jaina. The only time she’d looked into her eyes in over a decade was across the throne room in Lordaeron—when Jaina had come to save the Alliance’s bid to take her city from her.

And succeeded.

She was powerful, a ball of stress that was honestly only more beautiful for it. She looked incredible in her Kul Tiran uniform, even today, sulking with a greatcoat draped over her shoulders, unbuttoned otherwise for the heat of the Zandalari sun.

Just because she wouldn’t look at Sylvanas didn’t mean Sylvanas couldn’t look at her.

And honestly, over the years, in the scant times that they’d shared space since, all she could ever do was look at her. To look at her, going on, changing, becoming something without her. In the absence of her.

Sylvanas wondered if the emptiness had gnawed at her? The lack of what once was? Their connection, bone deep, severed even as Sylvanas still walked this world. Maybe it was the years of having had time to process it properly, as Sylvanas didn’t, that had hardened Jaina to her. To this need.

It was a need. Like the living needed water and air and food and shelter. Sylvanas was dead, still, and needed none of these. But she needed Jaina. She needed her like withered elves needed mana. Like—

“Warchief, a moment of your time?”

Anduin Wrynn. A lad of annoying height that he’d only gained in the last few years, loomed over her in his ceremonial lion armor, a polite smile tugging at the corner of his beardless lips. Last she’d seen him wear that armor, it was when she’d run from him, defeated at Lordaeron, wondering after the apology that seemed to echo in Jaina’s eyes.

Still too broken to understand it, but questioning all the same.

“By all means, High King,” she said with a nod.

In all her life and thereafter, Sylvanas had never imagined she would be nodding to a king. A boy king besides that, but even so, she had thought she would remain nothing more than a General, still giving a full bow to Anestarian, hoping he’d hold on a few more centuries and spare her from doing the same to Kael’thas.

Anduin came to stand with her on the aft deck of the Banshee’s Wail, mounting the stairs with a plate of tiny sandwiches still in hand.

“I have to admit I was rather fascinated by your tales of the Shadowlands,” he told her. “And what you’d experienced there. I was hoping you might answer some questions for me, about the nature of death.”

He would be disappointed to know how little she knew. How little she cared to know. Sylvanas could tell him exactly what death was. Unfair. Broken. A thing that ground one down, bones to dust. Souls to anima. A transformation to smaller parts, in which, along the way, the whole was lost forever.

A thing that made the decay and disgust of decomposition seem kind.

But instead, she said to him, “You may ask what you wish. I will share what I know, but I would hardly call my knowledge of the Shadowlands encyclopedic.”

“You mentioned there being other realms of death, besides the place you called the Maw. I was wondering…”

Wonder away, she almost wanted to tell him. Sylvanas herself had only seen glimpses of them as the Jailer’s servants had escorted her through a tour of the unfairness of death—the great separation and unending that awaited all living things.

Beautiful Bastion, its angelic embrace a front for a great lie—consuming the souls of heroes to turn them into willing servants and ferriers of yet even more souls. Malevolent Maldraxxus, where the souls of the warlike could play at war for the rest eternity, never satisfied with an end to their violence. Repentant Revendreth, whose aesthetic honestly didn’t miss, but otherwise enslaved the souls of the evil to extract from them in exchange for the slim hope at a better fate.

There was no better fate. Not even in Ardenweald, among the eternal forest, caring for slumbering gods. The Jailer had taunted her, telling her this was where she’d been headed before Arthas had rent her soul in twain and damned her to undeath and her eventual bargain. But even in her kindest end, Sylvanas now knew she would have become nothing more than a nymph of the woods that did not remember herself.

Or Jaina.

Or Lirath. Or Mother and father. Their souls too, were already lost in this machine of death. One that still very much deserved to be broken.

But not at the costs she had already paid.

Sylvanas waited for him to seem to finish his question, though she did not truly listen to the rest of it. “I’m afraid I’ve seen little outside of the Maw.”

She lied through simplicity. Much as she wished Anduin to enjoy his little sandwiches and hear out her request for peace, she was not here for him.

She was here for the woman who wouldn’t so much as set foot on the Horde side of the ships, and had all the reasons in the world to stay where she was. The Alliance side was made up of one of her ships, actually. Her flagship was larger, but sat lower in the water overall to the point where such side by side anchorage was possible for them. Still, it made Sylvanas nervous. All canons and teeth.

Jaina had a right to every one of those guns.

“I just wondered if you might know where my father went. Where a man like him would go to his eternal rest?” Anduin asked.

The porcelain plate in his hands reflected sunlight dully up at her amidst an array of cucumber, mayonnaise, and white bread. King Wrynn could not look her in the eye as he asked.

Bastion? Perhaps. Varian was a hero, certainly, and Sylvanas remembered well the time they fought side by side, deck to deck on different ships in the sky and not at sea. The way it made her thick black blood seem to race again to fight beside a warrior of equal skill, despite their opposite factions. It was only recent, very recent to one with both an elf and an undead’s lengthy perception of time. She would not soon forget the feeling.

But Varian was headstrong. Willful in the way Alliance men seemed to excel at. A warrior through and through. Perhaps he fought in the endless battles of Maldraxxus.

But death was infinite and terrible. Its realms expanded on and on, like the twisting tower of Torghast. It was not for mortal comprehension. It was not meant to make sense, or to be fair.

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” was the most honest answer she could give him. “But, as you do, I would hope he rests peacefully, and remains as such. I cannot recommend the alternative.”

Anduin Wrynn had never heard her make a joke before. That occurred to her as he stared at her, one bushy blonde eyebrow cocked in disbelief.

Not many people from the other ship had heard her make a joke before, actually. Or even on her side of the gangplank.

Among the many disservices of her death and the loss of her whole soul was that the world had forgotten she was funny.

She used to be very funny.

“Right,” Anduin eventually said, catching the gape that his mouth was starting to form and closing his teeth with an audible click. “Perhaps I might draft up a letter with a list of questions, or put you in contact with a scholar to chronicle your knowledge.”

“No doubt many will be interested. I’ve already been approached by the Reliquary and my own Apothecaries since my announcement to the Horde,” Sylvanas informed him.

She had no doubt that she would be made to recount her singular experiences a hundred times over. If Azeroth survived to care about them, that is.

“But,” she continued. “My priorities at the moment are ensuring that we work together to protect the world of the living and my people alike from that which may threaten us.”

Diplomacy never felt right to her. Even as successful as she had been at it here and there. She was a creature of trails and trees, not of contracts and meetings.

Or graves and the ink darkness of night. Lingering fog and dripping horrors. Teeth gnashing at rotting flesh.

Reconciling the two was still too difficult to keep in the forefront of her mind. Both parts of her had known a life of duty and objectivity coming first. That, at least, Sylvanas could focus on.

Even as her eyes tracked the deep blue of Jaina’s greatcoat from across the deck.

“Right,” Anduin said again, nodding along and picking up a tiny sandwich in meaty hands that must have come from his father. “If you want to discuss anything in specific about the draft agreement I’ve put forth, before we bring it to the table here, let me know.”

It was good, for a draft. Sylvanas had nothing to bring up. She knew that the other leaders of the Horde would be happy to squabble about the particulars and pick it apart. She was only concerned with setting a limit on the time they could do so. Dread and anxiety were her constant companions, even as she didn’t settle her thoughts on her disparate existence. Time, she felt, was a borrowed luxury they did not have to throw around, though she could not say why exactly.

She hadn’t bothered to go into descriptions of the Jailer’s forces to great degrees. “The Scourge, but worse,” was approximately what she had told the Alliance to watch out for. But her vision had been clouded by the black feathers of Mawsworn. The dull gray metal of armored constructs. The sharp bone of skeletal horrors.

“It is a fine agreement for the time being,” Sylvanas told him. “One that I will work to ensure the Horde honors as we face this threat.”

“I will tell you there is some skepticism on my side that there is a threat at all,” Anduin said, still holding the sandwich. “Not from my part. You are quite obviously changed to my eyes, if you don’t mind me saying so. Something has happened to cause that, and I believe you there. But others aren’t so quick to trust.”

No, they would not be. Not Genn Greymane, his silvered fur bristled as he stalked the deck of Jaina’s ship, one of the many not to leave it. In fact, the only ones to cross the gangplank thus far were Anduin and Baine.

As Sylvanas’ eyes flitted briefly away from Jaina, they noted her sisters were nowhere to be found on the Alliance ship. Neither, it seemed, had the courage to face her, or represent their factions of stolen elves. Stolen names.

“I honestly hope that I’m wrong, Wyrnn,” she told him. “I hope that nothing happens. But I fear that we will feel the Jailer’s wrath and fear we will feel it soon. My promise remains regardless of whether that happens or not, though. Azeroth has spent too long at war, and I no longer wish to be the cause of it.”

“What changed your mind?”

Sylvanas was hardly prepared for the question.

A dead body, dripping salt water on her table in the cabin just below them, was the root of the answer. But Derek Proudmoore’s rotted corpse was mostly a symbol. A message to her from her. From beyond her.

You are better than this. You are better than a pawn in someone else’s game.

Sylvanas knew what she wanted, and knew then, as she stared down a decision she did not want to make, that it wasn’t that. She wished she made this long ago, honestly. At the peak of Icecrown Citadel. Over Vol’jin’s dying, fel-ridden body. Before the flames were launched at Teldrassil.

Early as she could go back, honestly, but it would never be enough.

Her hands were already stained with blood from the moment they’d become her own again. From the first flex of spectral fingers that was her will and hers alone, after her death. But before then, they’d been used to rip the faces off of elven children. To rend the land that had birthed her so deeply that it was still scarred to this day. Bodiless, monstrous, and broken beyond repair—she had been irredeemable from the very start of her unlife.

Even now, soul restored to wholeness, hands corporeal but still stained with that blood and so much more, there was no fixing it. There was no forgiveness. No justice. No redemption to be sought.

There never would be.

Sylvanas’ eyes still tracked the blue greatcoat across the deck of the Kul Tiran ship. No doubt it was hot, but Jaina kept herself beneath it as if it were a shield that protected her from the foulness of the very air.

Foul, perhaps, because of who it was shared with. Truly, all Sylvanas could get from her over their renewed bond since the ships both docked was a feeling of general annoyance bordering on aversion. It pulled at the bottom of her stomach and tightened her chest.

Only then, as he waited for an answer, did Anduin’s eyes follow hers and land on the real answer to his question.

How could she explain that to the boy king? That even in her undeath, her brokenness, her grief over her own life, she could not violate the bond that had once tied her to Jaina. She could not bring herself to attack her directly. The thought had repelled her, like one magnetic pole to another of the same charge. It was never an option.

And even Jaina, in all her disgust, had looked sorry at Lordaeron for being willing to do what she was not.

A memory stirred in Sylvanas’ mind, so vivid now with her newfound ability to connect to the fullness of its emotions. Once, she and Jaina had sat on the beach outside of Windrunner Spire, an outing prompted after their recounting of similar childhoods spent by the seashore. The beach outside the Spire was mostly rocky, and only had a small strip of smooth sand on which they’d laid out a little picnic.

It had been the day before they had to leave one another. Jaina laughed and teased and loved her. She smelled of mana wine and pomegranates and honey pastries. She leaned in for a kiss, on that perfect afternoon, and asked as she pulled away, “But where will we live?”

The question was a loaded one. No answer was correct. The first difficult to navigate strait in the sea of their union. Sylvanas wanted to answer that here at the Spire was good. But Jaina was an agent of the Kirin Tor, based in Dalaran. Sylvanas hated Dalaran, and was the Ranger General of Quel’thalas. But Jaina was also technically heir to the Kul Tiran admiralty, and would presumably need to return there or name her younger brother heir instead some day. Back then, her father still lived and was still young enough to the point it wasn’t the forethought on anyone’s mind, save maybe Sylvanas’ as she worried for them. And then there was the Alliance, based in Lordaeron and not Stormwind back then, that called to the loyalties of both of them.

Sylvanas had listed all of these in a panicked tirade of sorts, wanting to find the answer.

It was Jaina who had arrived at the real answer with a smile, “Don’t worry so much. We’ll figure it out.”

They never got to even try.

“I see,” Anduin started. “Well if—”

“You wretched beast!” A Thalassian screech came from just below them, causing both Anduin and Sylvanas to lean over the railing to see the source.

That happened to be Velonara shaking an offending pest off of her boot. The offending pest being a small pink dinosaur that was clinging onto the black leather, gnawing at the laces.

Nathanos ran over from where he’d been entertaining Gallywix and his goblins, prying the creature off with a desperate whisper of, “How did you get out?” before carrying it back into the aft cabin with a huff.

He was successful in that at least, despite the creature’s protesting squawk and sharp little teeth that no doubt left a few tiny holes in his gloves.

“Fascinating wildlife here in Zandalar,” Anduin noted as distraction was removed.

“Yes, fascinating,” Sylvanas agreed dryly.

She’d have a talk with Nathanos about smuggling his newest pets onto diplomatic missions later.

Thankfully, as Anduin seemed to be following her gaze across to the other ship again, another distraction was provided in the form of red hair and golden armor. Lady Liadrin stood on the last step up to the aft deck, seemingly waiting to be invited to join them.

Still a stickler for decorum, after all these years. Sylvanas hadn’t spoken to her since, save to grant orders. Once, she had considered her a friend.

They even went on a terrible date once, centuries ago. Absolutely awful. Liadrin had tried to order for her at the restaurant, and it had only gotten worse from there. And now here she was, waiting to be acknowledged. It must have physically pained the control freak that Sylvanas knew lay beneath all that armor.

“Matriarch,” Sylvanas said with a nod in her direction.

Liadrin still looked like shit. Like she’d been run over by a goblin trike and left in the streets of Orgrimmar to die for it. She did her best to hold it together and bowed gracefully and appropriately to Sylvanas and Anduin, but the signs were there. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

And Sylvanas was struggling with wanting to actually ask what that was, when she was owed no such answer.

“Warchief, High King,” Liadrin said as she rose.

Anduin was respectful in his own nod to her, offering a greeting, “Bal’a dash, Lady Liadrin.”

His pronunciation was not terrible, for all it was worth. And while Sylvanas expected Liadrin not to have any interest in his attempt, her golden eyes only settled on the young king. A question burned in them. A question she did not ask.

Her gaze instead flitted around the boy king, left, then right, then back to him. Searching for something.

There was nothing up here but Sylvanas, Anduin, and the ship’s wheel. Maybe it was some Light thing? That, at least, Sylvanas had never understood in any of her lives. Nor had she cared to. Especially now. Religion was not the realm of the dead.

“It’s no rush,” Liadrin began, finally, “but I was hoping I might borrow a moment of your time before we reconvene, King Wrynn.”

“Certainly. We have not spoken since the Legion’s invasion, and I treasure any opportunity to speak to a sister in the Light,” was Anduin’s very warm and seemingly genuine answer.

Only he didn’t get to continue on to the point of turning Sylvanas’ undead stomach with his religious drivel.

The afternoon sun flickered strangely out of the corner of her eye. Sylvanas banished the thought, just another vision of dread. Another fantasy of what could come for her, for all of them. The price she would pay for the faint blue glow of the moon she kept hidden on her wrist beneath her clawed gauntlets, matching that which would be similarly hidden by the golden gauntlet on Jaina’s casting hand.

The price she’d paid to be ignored and shunned yet again. Sylvanas was coming to the conclusion that she did indeed deserve it. Her best hope was this peace, and buying herself a few years of good behavior, of attempted redemption where there could truly be none, just to be heard. To be seen. To be looked at, even, with anything other than pity or silent apology.

But then the sun flickered again, this time catching the hard gold of Liadrin’s eyes enough to rouse them from the dark bags that sunk beneath them. Enough for Sylvanas to follow her gaze to the west.

“Mawsworn!” she shouted.

No one but her knew the meaning of the word, of the dark silhouettes that flocked toward them, shading out the sun with a mass of black feathers. They looked not too dissimilar from her Val’kyr, but larger. Fiercer. Intent. Whereas the Val’kyr waited on orders, inert but for the occasional flap of wings, Sylvanas had never seen a Mawsworn that didn’t have some terrible mission on their mind, always flying toward something.

And now they were flying toward her, and her peace summit.

Deathwhisper was in her hands in an instant. No Thas’dorah, certainly, but she could make it work. No doubt things would be better if she’d accepted the Jailer’s gifts, the chained arrows he’d promised in exchange for more and more dirty deeds.

Only now did she regret not taking him up on the offer.

“That’s what they look like? I don’t under—”

Anduin was cut off from his confusion by Liadrin drawing her sword and standing between him and the western sky.

“Arm yourself!” she ordered someone she had no business ordering, gruff voice grated even deeper by her apparent exhaustion.

That was enough to shake Anduin out of his questioning, though he muttered, “They look like angels,” as he drew his father’s famed sword.

They were not angels. Angels lived in Bastion and forgot themselves. Angels carried the dead into the machine to chop them up at the behest of yet even more masters. Nowhere could anyone be free, even in death.

Not, at least, if they didn’t fight.

Sylvanas knocked an arrow and looked to the combined forces of Horde and Alliance leadership on the decks below her, scrambling to her warning call. Satisfied that the Horde ship had a suitable amount of Dark Rangers with bows drawn as she had, even Nathanos, and plenty of Orcish axes and Tauren totems alike joining them, she cast a look over to the Alliance ship.

And to a blue coat beneath which hands were forming to host an icy spell. Jaina’s eyes glowed with arcane, visible even from this far away, as she stood between most of her own people and the new threat.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Sylvanas shouted over the water and wood. “Watch for their chains!”

And then they were upon them. So fast did their black wings carry them across Azeroth’s sky that it was seemingly unnatural. No time to think of where they could have come from or how or why. Well, the why Sylvanas was certain of, at least.

They’d come for her.

She fired the first shot, an arrow that ripped through the black feathers of the winged skeleton, slicing just the corner of its dark cloak. Wide and misaimed.

The product of fear. A deep fear that Sylvanas had not felt in years. A fear not for herself, but for those around her. For Anduin. Liadrin. Even traitorous Baine, who didn’t think she’d known of his dealings with the Alliance. And Jaina.

Of course, Jaina. But she shot second, and her ice lance hit true, striking a Mawsworn from the air and into the ocean with the force of it.

Truly, what an honor it was to be destined for such a powerful woman, who had only grown into that power and beauty over these last hard years. What a privilege, even if she wouldn’t deign to look at the broken creature that was Sylvanas Windrunner.

Sylvanas knocked another arrow. She fired. She hit deep into an eye socket this time, causing another Mawsworn to fall. She listened as Liadrin and Anduin whispered blessings under their breath, laying hands on one another to trade them.

She knocked a third arrow, but didn’t get a chance to fire before a chain shot out toward her.

Liadrin dutifully deflected this with her shield, offering Sylvanas cover to fire behind. The fear dissipated, and suddenly her dead heart was full of a feeling of ancient camaraderie. Of memories of Liadrin when she still wielded the mace of a priestess, and was no less fearsome in her white robes than she was in her golden and crimson armor. Of times when she’d done this before, standing between Sylvanas and an Amani troll. An Alliance footman. A shambling undead horror. A massive, horned demon.

This was just another enemy. Another in the unending chain of threats that Azeroth seemed to face. And as shaped by war as Sylvanas was like no one else, she had to remind herself that she was not the only one so molded. Maybe not to such a degree, but she wasn’t about to debate that with Liadrin.

She was grateful, she realized, as she fired over her shoulder with a little smirk on her face.

“Ready yourselves!” Sylvanas delivered one last final warning as she made a fifth shot over Liadrin’s red ponytail.

The decks became crowded with black feathers and magical chains. They were just as soon filled with broken bones and battered pieces of dull gray armor. While she didn’t like being caught off guard, the place to do so was certainly around the best and brightest that each faction had to offer, as it seemed none of them had a problem with this initial onslaught.

Nathanos had hopped up on the aft deck to join them, and flashed her a grin as he buried one of his axes into a screaming skull. Midship, Saurfang headbutted another skull with such force that it cracked loudly enough to draw her attention a moment later. She caught sight of Genn Greymane with a fibula in his wolven mouth. Maybe an ulna. The area around Jaina was just coated in ice, several Mawsworn either frozen within it or shattered by it.

They were many, but they were fragile. They were not meant to be here in the living world, and it seemed to be a weakness to them. Their bones were brittle, Sylvanas realized as she cleaved yet another skull near in two with a close range shot.

This was a battle that could be easily won.

Even Anduin was holding up next to her, green boy that he obviously was. He’d made a good run of it at Lordaeron, and had shown courage then, but his heart was not in it. That much was clear to Sylvanas. He didn’t have that streak of joy in the kill to him. She doubted he’d even enjoy a good hunt, and would weep instead for the animals.

But, he still cut clean through a ribcage. A leg. An arm. A haze of black feathers.

And somehow missed the chain that wrapped around him.

His grunt of surprise was what alerted her as he was lifted into the air. The Mawsworn that had tangled him made haste to fly up, up, and then off.

They weren’t here to fight. They were here to take. Zovaal didn’t care how many of his abominations he lost in the process. He only needed to rob Sylvanas of one of her allies, or her own freedom, to prove that his vengeance was not to be trifled with.

And she wasn’t about to let him win another battle. Never again.

She rolled out of the cloud of Mawsworn that had descended on the aft deck, up to the rail that stood between her and the sea. She took aim, willing the necromantic magic that bound her to unlife into her arrow until it swirled with darkness, hoping that would be enough. She fired at the chain that held Anduin aloft, slowly raising upward to bring him into the embrace of the Mawsworn that was carrying him off.

Her shot hit true, determined as she was that it would. It snapped the chain, but left the boy king falling rapidly toward the ocean.

Sylvanas didn’t hesitate. Much as she hated her banshee form, and the memories she still carried of those days where she watched its clawed hands move against her will to aid Arthas in destroying Silvermoon, she slipped into it without lingering on those thoughts. There was no time for it.

She shot forward at speed that almost matched that of unnatural Mawsworn, managing to catch him just before he hit the waves. He would have hit them hard, covered in that ridiculous plate, and sunk below them immediately. There was no other choice.

Even though he shied away from her and the scream that echoed from her spectral mouth unbidden as it must when she was this way.

Sylvanas wanted to warn him to cover his ears, but she couldn’t speak when she was like this. She could only scream.

No wonder Jaina wouldn’t look at her. She was still dead. Broken. Monstrous. A war criminal on her best day. An abomination no different than those that attacked them at her worst.

As she soared back upward to the aft deck with him in her arms, Sylvanas couldn’t help but notice the blue glow on the wrist that curled around Anduin. Even temporarily banishing her physical body, and the mark that contained that fire, she was not without it.

But she didn’t have time to contemplate that either. She surged upward with one last blast of a scream, reminding herself to beg forgiveness from Anduin later, and summoned her corporeal form once she had him dumped safely onto the deck once more.

A little bit unceremoniously, perhaps. A little rougher than necessary, surely.

For the Undercity, Sylvanas thought to herself as she took up Deathwhisper again, and went back to filling Mawsworn with arrows. For the Undercity indeed, she stood over Anduin as he got to his feet and got ready to continue the fight. She made sure to turn around at her earliest opportunity, and shoot down the one that was coming back from the sea, having realized its prize had been stolen from it.

As easily as they fell, their numbers were so great. So much so that Sylvanas lost count of how many she’d downed quickly. She was also busy keeping her eyes on the sky to ensure that no one else was being taken, but it seemed only Anduin had been caught unaware by the chains thus far. She’d dodged more than a few of her own, grabbing him by his tabard to drag him with her up to the railing overlooking the lower deck. Large as he was, she was stronger. Yet another point for undeath today.

What she saw there was nothing short of disappointing. Most of the Mawsworn were clustered on the aft deck of her ship, and between her, Anduin, Liadrin, and Nathanos, had mostly been dispatched. The Horde below had dealt with nearly all that assailed them already.

But the Alliance ship didn’t fare as well. Only Jaina seemed to be a deadly force enough to leave her icy corner of the Kul Tiran flagship fully clear. Otherwise, it was still a haze of black feathers and battle cries.

“Horde, what are you doing?” Sylvanas questioned of idle axes and swords, arcane and Light alike. “Protect our allies! We must work together!”

With one last quick check to make sure that Nathanos and Liadrin had a handle on the remaining Mawsworn on the aft deck, Sylvanas turned to Anduin and told him, “I’m afraid your little papers must wait. Allow me to prove the truth of my words. Fight with me.”

“I didn’t doubt you in the first place!” Anduin protested as she led the way across the gangplank to the deck of the Kul Tiran ship.

The Kul Tiran ship, where it seemed the Mawsworn had realized who was to be feared there. Who was to be prioritized. Or perhaps, who the Jailer had sent to target.

Whose capture and subsequent torture in the bowels of hell itself would hurt Sylvanas most.

The remainder of them were closing in on Jaina, chains lashing out only to meet wave after wave of ice, shattering them each time. Impressive as it was, Sylvanas knew she couldn’t keep it up forever. Mana was a thing in limited quantities, even for one of Azeroth’s most powerful mages.

Certainly its most beautiful, eyes aglow with magic, greatcoat forgotten and frozen to the deck beside her, white braid whipping in the wind.

As much as Sylvanas enjoyed looking at her soulmate in her battle fury, she was here to help her, wanted or not. She took aim and fired at a Mawsworn that was getting too close, and nodded to Anduin as he ran to assist the woman he apparently would refer to as his aunt, despite their lack of blood relation.

Bones clattered to the polished wood of the deck, darker and slicker than that of her own ship. Ice smashed and shattered into crystalline explosions that tingled Sylvanas’ sensitive elven ears. A dwarf threw a thunder-laden hammer that whizzed past her. Genn was snarling off to her left, but at the Mawsworn he was biting at and not her. And finally, the Horde followed. Saurfang crashed into a skeletal figure that was flanking her right. A spectral dinosaur came across the gangplank, summoned by the muttered words of Talanji to assist. A goblin rocket was aimed with surprising care and managed to hit only a pack of Mawsworn that were cutting off the aft deck of the Alliance ship from the rest of the fight.

In her efforts to get to Jaina and help, Sylvanas hadn’t realized how close they were. Suddenly, it seemed, they were nearly back to back—Sylvanas facing west to keep an eye on the sky, and Jaina facing east to blast the last big group of Mawsworn with a cone of ice wind, freezing them in place for the coming rush of melee fighters to smash to bits.

Only when she heard the panting breaths of Jaina thrumming against her ears, did she realize this was the closest she’d been to her in over a decade. The last time she’d heard her this winded, this close, it had been for much better reasons. Much more pleasant, at least.

Sylvanas turned to the east to see if there were anymore enemies, but was only met with blue eyes.

Blue eyes, looking at her for the second time in all these years. This time not begging for an apology Jaina would not give. Could not give.

This time, they were regarding her as if she’d never seen her before. Curiously. Cautiously.

Almost like the first time Sylvanas ever saw them, when Jaina came through the portal with Vereesa in tow, chattering to her about how excited she was to have potentially found her sister’s soulmate for her.

How beautiful she’d been then too. Young, but knowing. Her hair shining gold to match the leaves of the forests of Quel’thalas. She’d been a vision in the purple and white livery of the Kirin Tor. With her curious blue eyes, and the smile she’d given her after that first cautious look.

Sylvanas hadn’t been what she expected. Jaina hadn’t been what she’d expected either. But somehow, they’d been perfect for each other.

But this time—thirteen years and countless tragedies later, Jaina did not smile. She turned away, searching for Anduin before asking him, “Anduin, are you all right?”

He wasn’t in the best shape. Sylvanas could see blood dripping from one of his ears, likely the fault of her banshee wail. The foul magic of the chains that had wrapped him had left a nasty red mark in their pattern across his cheek. He was far more winded than Jaina, even, but was able to give her a nod.

Still, she checked him over, pushed at his breastplate to stand him up straight so she could confirm he was otherwise unhurt.

“Sylvanas saved me,” he blurted out when he managed to catch his breath.

“I saw,” Jaina told him, speaking under her breath, but not quiet enough to avoid being heard by an elf.

Sylvanas watched as she flexed her casting hand, and the other one briefly came to touch it, shaking. She turned and looked at Sylvanas again, still seeming to be undecided.

But across their bond, weak as it was, Sylvanas felt a tug. A pull. Magnetic in the opposite way she’d been thinking of before. A draw that demanded they be together. The very laws of physics itself would not allow for anything else.

The deck was soon awash with activity that swept Jaina from her vision before they could connect. Leaders gathering, now all on the Kul Tiran ship for the first time—examining remains of their enemies, wondering at the suddenness of the attack, the strange chains, the purpose of it all. Some mutters, too, of how convenient it was that this had come just after Sylvanas had warned them. Of how it could be another one of her tricks.

Again, she’d not given them reason to suspect otherwise. It would not take one battle, one rescue of an enemy leader, to prove her intentions.

Sylvanas knew this would take years, if she was lucky. Restoring even the smallest amount of trust in her among the rest of Azeroth would be a near impossible feat. But, at least they would all understand what to watch out for now, if nothing else.

She was about to look for Nathanos or one of her Rangers to ask for a report from them when a hand reached for her upper arm. A gap between her pauldrons and gauntlets that all Ranger armor had, to allow for the movement of one’s arms. A gap one would only reach for if one was familiar with it, and looking to make contact with skin.

A gap where Jaina Proudmoore’s hand started a feedback loop that Sylvanas hadn’t felt in thirteen years. Even through the cloth of her glove, Sylvanas could feel her feeling her feeling her feeling her. The coldness of her skin. The curiosity. The hesitation. But still, she was touching her. Trying to get her attention in only the way she could.

Sylvanas turned to face her, wordless, only feeling. Only feeling her and Jaina’s sensations of one another mingle and merge until they were indistinguishable. Was that her shock or Jaina’s? Was the cloth on her skin or Jaina’s? Was she surprised at herself and how she reacted, how much this took the wind out of her sails, or was that Jaina’s Kul Tiran expression leaking through her thoughts.

It was too much and not enough at once. Sylvanas wanted to run. She wanted to pull away. She wanted to pull Jaina to her, cover her skin with hers, regardless of how cold and dead it might be, and lose herself in this heady feeling. She wanted the true completeness of her soul that was only found in her arms. She wanted to rewind time itself, and forget all these sins that had kept them apart, had kept her desperate enough to commit them in the name of the hope of this.

“Tomorrow, Theramore,” Jaina whispered to her, hand still on her skin. “I will meet you. We can talk. I…”

Sylvanas’ eyes traced down from Jaina’s own blue eyes to her lips. Lips she could still remember kissing. Lips that she remembered setting alight the mark on her wrist with the sweetest kiss anyone could ever receive.

The kiss that marked a life that would no longer have to be lived alone. That meant she would have a partner, forever. For as long as this chaotic world of theirs would let them both live, at least.

And perhaps beyond that.

She watched as those lips mouthed a word, seemingly running out of breath and will to speak it.

A world Sylvanas had taught her.

“Rea’anath,” she’d said once, cradled in Sylvanas’ arms in her bedroom at the Spire.

“Bonded soul,” Sylvanas had translated for her. “In case you hear anyone call you that in reference to me.”

“Should I call you that?” Jaina had asked.

“You can if you’d like,” Sylvanas had told her before leaning in to kiss the word out of her mouth before she could say it again.

But now, on the deck of her ship, surrounded by shattered bones and ice, Sylvanas could only stare after her as Jaina’s hand left her arm, and she ran to catch Anduin again as he surveyed the damage. She could only chase after the echo of their looped feelings. Of a touch she didn’t deserve and wasn’t ready for, even if it was what she’d wanted most, killed and died again and again to get back. Of a word she was so certain she’d never hear her say again, not fully voiced, but still attempted.

A bond renewed. A flame fed to roaring. A longing that consumed her as emptiness once had.

#sylvaina #Sylvanas Windrunner #Jaina Proudmoore #fanfic #beneath the blue moon #sorry for the months long hiatus on this #but damn if it wasn't a treat to write catty sylvanas again #i missed her so much

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reader6898 · 2 months

Text

Self care

Pairing: Tup x female reader

Summary: you and Tup have a self care day when he comes back from a mission

Warning: just cute fluff. Can be seen either as platonic or romantic

A/n: having a self care day with any of the clones would be amazing

You were puttering around in your room trying to clean up when your door slides open and Tup walks in. He lies down face first on your bed and you smiled as you folded up some clothes. "How was the mission? Successful I hope?" Tup mumbled something about the general and the mission going wrong as usual and you laughed a little. You walk over to Tup once your clothes are put away and lie down next to him in your small bed. Tup pulls you close and buries his face on your hair. How he's missed the scent of your fruity shampoo.

"Hey, I have an idea." You stand up and walk into your fresher to grab what you need. Once you find all the supplies you walk out and sit back down next to Tup. He looks over at what you have and looks at all of it with a curious look. "What is all of that stuff, mesh'la?" You throw your hair up in a ponytail and give him a smile. "You and I are going to have a self care day." Tup raises his eyebrows as he sits up. "What's a self care day?" You giggled as you moved behind the clone and fixed his bun. "You pretty much dedicate the day to yourself and can do anything you want. Go shopping, seeing a holo movie, eat at a restaurant, anything you want. In our case it's face masks, painting our nails, and if you're up to it braiding our hair. We can even put cucumbers on our eyes and relax with one of my soothing meditation tapes. It'll be like a little spa day."

Tup listened to you explain everything and by the time you had finished he liked the idea. "I like it. It sounds really fun, mesh'la." You clapped your hands and grabbed your supplies with everything needed for a manicure. You rummaged through your basket and found your nail file. You took one of Tup's hands and started on his nails. While you gave him a manicure Tup looked at all your nail polish and decided on a color. "Can you do that color. I want it to match my armor." You looked at the color he was holding up and smiled. "Of course. It's the perfect color." Tup puts the blue colored nail polish on top so that you could access it and let's you get back to work.

A few hours later the rest of torrent company were on the hunt for Tup to see if he wanted to join them at 79s and they had a hunch that he was with you so they made their way to your room. You two were inseperable and even though they made of fun of their brother for it they found it cute that Tup was spending time with someone that wasn't one of them.

"We should invite her too. Maybe she could get us drinks that aren't the free stuff." "Shut it Fives. last time she bought us drinks you ran her dry and she ended up having to work twice as hard to earn back all those credits." Fives rolled his eyes at Kix. "That was one time." "Just keep walking you di'kut." The group of men made it to your room and knocked. They heard a sigh and once you told them to come in your door slid open and they stepped inside.

"Tup, we wanted to.." "What the.." "Tup'ika?", Fives asked. "What are you doing?" Jesse, Hardcase, Dogma, Fives, Kix, and Echo stood there as all of them looked at the two of you. You and Tup were sitting on your bed with face masks, cucumber slices on your eyes, your hair braided, and your nails freshly painted in 501st blue with your calming music going, and you had somehow managed to sneak a difuser on board which sat on your nightstand and had that on as well with your room being filled by the smell of jasmine.

"What does it look like? We're relaxing." All of them look at the two of you with weird looks and you move one of the cucumber slices to look at them. "Did you need something boys?" Echo cleared his throat before speaking. "We just wanted to invite the two of you to 79s but I can see that you are currently occupied." You smiled at Echo. "Thank you but maybe later. Oh, and close your mouths. all of you look stupid. Have you never seen someone relax before?" The men close their mouths as they had nothing to say and they quickly make their way out of your room as they mutter goodbye to the two of you.

As soon as the door slides shut you lie back against the wall and put the cucumber slice back on your eye. "Dik'uts." "I'll say." Tup turns up the music and the two of you get back to your self care day.

Tagging: @anxiouspineapple99 @techs-stitches @moonlightwarriorqueen @trixie2023 @523rdrebel @cw80831 @multi-fan-dom-madness @rexxdjarin @the-rain-on-kamino @the-bad-batch-baroness @deejadabbles @sunshinesdaydream @wings-and-beskar @wizardofrozz @sev-on-kamino @cloneloverrrrr @starrylothcat @dystopicjumpsuit @eternal-transcience

#star wars #tup x reader #tup x female reader #the clone wars #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper echo #clone trooper fives #clone trooper kix #clone trooper dogma #clone trooper hardcase #female reader #clone trooper tup

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chrysochroma · 5 days

Text

kept out of sight, sinister and cowardly

Rating: Teen And Up

Words: 16.4k

Fandom: Double Life, S9 HC x S2 Empires crossover

Warnings: MAIN CHARACTER DEATH, Mild Gore, Possession, Corruption, Angst, Death, Blood, Violence, Horror, Crying, Arguments, Manipulation, Trauma

this is my gift for the @mcythorrorgiftexchange for the lovely @yeaveragenerd :DD

Read on Ao3

~ A canary flies up into the wide blue sky, finally free from the darkness. His coal mine waits underneath, patient and understanding. The canary is free, but empty. For what is he without his coal mine? ~

Tango swung his pickaxe, digging it into the stone wall in front of him. He was in a cave he had found a bit away from spawn, gathering basic resources for the coming week.

This was Tango’s third time participating in this tournament, so early game preparations were somewhat of a routine to him. He suspected that most of the other players were doing similar things, just getting geared up for later. These first few hours were usually pretty slow. Still, though, there was a bit of hesitance in the back of his mind. According to the overseers of the games, a new feature had been included for this series, and a few of the players had already found out about it.

Impulse had found his soulmate, Bdubs, first, barely 20 minutes into the game. Tango was there when they both realized that the other had been responsible for the random sparks of pain in the back of their mind. Still, both were grateful to have found each other.

A few minutes after that, though, Tango decided that he would really test how well the soulbonds worked, just for fun. It was a spontaneous decision, and in his defense, what else was he supposed to do with Etho standing so close to a cliff? It was barely a drop, only about 6 blocks, but it was still enough to induce a shriek from Etho and a punch to his arm from Joel, who had subsequently realized he and Etho were soulbound.

Tango could feel the echo of another life attached to his, however faint it was. He had no idea who his soulmate was, and honestly, he was a bit scared to find out. Most of the other players had found theirs already, and at this point, there weren’t many others he could be paired with. He almost felt as if he didn’t have a soulmate at all.

Tango sunk his pickaxe into the stone in front of him, slowly chipping out a tunnel deeper into the ground and filling his inventory with stone. About an hour had passed, and he was now comfortably kitted out with mostly iron, and even a couple diamonds, so he started to retrace his steps through the cave he was in. It was quiet underground as he walked, just the faint sounds of running water and his shoes tapping against the stone floor, but it still took him a minute to hear the other footsteps behind him.

Tango froze. The footsteps continued. Tango turned to look back at the path he had come from, and his eyes caught the faint gleam of a torch casting light on the cave walls. Then a voice echoed through the cavern.

“Hello?” It was Etho, presumably with Joel.

“Yeah? Over here,” he called back.

The torchlight got closer, lighting up what had previously been darkness due to Tango’s lack of supplies. Then Etho and Joel walked out from one of the tunnels leading into the cave, each of them decked out in iron armor.

“Tango, there you are,” Etho said.

“You find your soulmate yet?” Joel asked.

Tango shook his head. “Nope. At this point I’m starting to think I don’t have one,” he joked.

Etho shrugged. “You aren’t exactly out looking.”

“I’m sure I’ll find them eventually.”

“You could always die,” Joel commented. “Then you would definitely know.”

Tango laughed, although a bit hesitantly. “Yeah, that would work, huh? And it would be easy, too–don’t really have any armor. I feel so naked,” Tango said. “Like I feel like anyone could just come by and murder me-” He snapped. “Like that!”

“I miss being enchanted,” Joel commented.

“Yeah, it just makes things so much easier,” Tango agreed.

“But the only table is in the City,” Etho reminded them.

Joel shrugged. “I mean, eventually someone will steal it, and then we won’t have to go all the way down there just to enchant.”

“How much do you wanna bet it’ll be Scar?” Tango asked.

Etho scoffed. “It’s always Scar.”

“Exactly!”

Etho hummed in response.

Tango continued to mine, and the other two started to venture into a different section of the cave, informally ending their conversation. Tango could still faintly hear them though, breaking blocks and talking. For a minute, they went quiet, but Tango didn’t pay much mind. He stepped back out into the larger cavern, which was still shrouded in darkness.

From above him, he heard the swipe of a sword making contact with something, then a sizzle. Tango looked up just in time to see a creeper fall down on top of him, already flickering. A hiss filled his ears as his muscles tensed up, trying to save himself from the coming blast. He pulled up his shield, doing his best to hide behind it, to protect himself—to protect his soulmate—when an explosion rocked the cavern, roaring through his ears and flooding his vision with burning embers and a cloud of gunpowder. Fear surged through his heart, a mixture of his and his poor soulmate’s. There was fire all around him, burning white-hot, and then it was gone.

Tango gasped. The forest was strikingly quiet, aside from some faintly chirping birds. His breathing was shaky, but whether it was from what had just happened or what was going to happen, he didn’t know.

Another voice came from further in the trees. “Tango!” He recognized it a second after.

“Jimmy.” Tango’s voice was much quieter, barely audible.

He and Jimmy had only met once before, in the very first of these games, when he had died to Tango’s challenge/poorly disguised trap. And now they were soulmates. Not exactly a great first impression.

“Tango?” Jimmy yelled again, his voice getting closer.

“I’m over here,” Tango replied, loud enough for Jimmy to actually hear him.

Tango’s eyes caught the bright blond of Jimmy’s hair as he made it through the trees. Then they met each other’s canary yellow eyes. Tango froze. Jimmy strode towards him, closing the gap between them.

“What happened, Tango?” His voice was forceful, demanding, and it made Tango grimace.

“Uh- hi! Hi.” He paused for a split second. “I’m so sorry.”

Jimmy sighed, and Tango held his breath. “Take me through it,” Jimmy said.

A rush of air escaped Tango’s lips. “Etho and Joel, man, they’re insane. I was caving, and they were with me—I think they were mad because I almost killed them at the beginning, and they just-” Tango cut himself off with another exhale, then met his soulmate’s eyes. “God, I’m so sorry.” He was frozen in painful anticipation, waiting for any reaction that Jimmy cared to give, and hoped that he could at least salvage their relationship enough to keep himself alive.

Along with Tango, Jimmy had been a participant in every one of the past games, and every single time, he died first. First deaths were a big thing in these games, even more so when it was one person who died first consistently. To say that he garnered a reputation for it would be an understatement. It was almost expected at this point, for Jimmy to die first. He became the canary of the death games, forever fated to alert the rest of the players to the toxin that was this tournament, and whose warnings were mocked rather than heeded. And now Tango had been the one to doom him, like his own personal coal mine, with which he shared a soul. Jimmy couldn’t escape the dark, and Tango couldn’t pull him out of it, no matter how much either of them tried.

Jimmy kept his eyes locked on Tango’s. There was a hint of a solemn smile on his face. “It’s okay.”

Tango blinked.

“It’s okay,” Jimmy repeated. “We just need to pick ourselves up, get new gear, get some supplies, and we’ll be good.”

“Yeah.” Tango hesitated. “Yeah. We can do that. That’s a good idea. I’ll-“ He went to retrieve a pickaxe from his belt, then realized it was empty. “Right. Um…” He closed his fist, clutching the empty air, then took a breath and walked over to the nearest tree. “Guess we’ll just have to start over. I’ll go get us new stuff right away, and maybe you can get us some food?”

“Yeah, that works. Are you sure you don’t want help with getting gear, though?”

The thought of himself back underground, in the dark, alone, almost made Tango reconsider, but he still shook his head. “I’m fine. But thank you," he added.

Jimmy nodded. “Alright. I’ll go work on getting us stuff to eat, then.”

“I want to enchant today, too.” Tango said.

“Isn’t the table in the Ancient City?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, but I think it’s worth it. I really want us to be enchanted as quickly as possible.”

“Okay, yeah, we can do that. That is probably a good idea,” Jimmy agreed.

Tango nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Jimmy paused for a second, took a step away, back towards the trees, then stopped. “Y’know, I was starting to think that I didn’t have a soulmate at all or something,”

“Yeah. Me too.”

He nodded. “Nice meeting you, Tango.”

Tango felt himself relax just a bit. “You too.”

“Meet back up here?”

“Yeah. In an hour, probably.”

“Okay.” He started to turn away.

“And Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. Again.”

Jimmy smiled. “Don’t be. It’s just life, and we’ll get through it together.”

Tango’s heartbeat was dull in his ears as he mined through dark gray stone, making a staircase down deep into the earth. Jimmy was following behind him, staying quiet, although he didn’t really have a reason to—not yet, anyway.

For hours before, Tango had spent his time mining similar tunnels through stone in an effort to restore at least some of the supplies he had before getting blown up, in addition to acquiring some new materials that would come in handy in about a few minutes. His inventory was filled with premade armor pieces, as well as weapons and tools to enchant, and a bit of an outlier among the rest of his items: some snowballs. He also had plenty of torches on hand, deciding that he would prefer to keep out of the dark if possible.

He broke a section of stone out from in front of him, revealing a huge cavern, covered in so much sculk that it looked like a night sky. Their tunnel had left them suspended well above the city, glowing dimly below. Tango could see the faint gleam of blue soulfire through the ruins of whatever structures had once been there, in addition to the ever-vast sea of stars.

Completely silently, Tango carved a staircase out of the wall, down to the city floor. Jimmy followed close behind him, not making a sound. The city was silent, too, like it was waiting for them.

Finally, Tango set his feet on the old stone tiles that made up the city streets, and stared out into the darkness before him. It was like there was nothing there, regardless of the dim light scattered throughout. It seemed cold, empty and completely abandoned, but he supposed it being abandoned was better than not.

Almost immediately after stepping off the staircase, Tango picked a torch from his inventory and held it up, letting its light drive away some of the darkness. It was much less effective than Tango would’ve liked, only lighting up a few feet in front of him, but it was better than nothing. He considered placing torches throughout the city as they went, but kept himself from doing so in fear of drawing something else towards the light.

He held his torch up a bit higher, then motioned for Jimmy to follow him into the depths of the city. He managed to guide the two of them towards the center, where he could see the faint shine of an enchanting table. He traced a winding path through the ruins, all of his movements silent and precise, desperate not to awaken what he knew lurked in the shadows. Then another light snagged his eyes. He turned to see where it was coming from and found it immediately after: Etho and Joel standing at the base of the staircase he had made.

Tango let out a slightly shaky breath, then looked back at Jimmy. “We might need to hurry up,” he said, his voice barely even loud enough to be a whisper.

Jimmy responded with a quizzical expression, and Tango gestured back to the staircase. Jimmy’s eyes darted over to where Tango had pointed and stayed there for a second, then back to him. His nod was a bit hesitant, but understanding.

They continued through the city, still silent as ever. He could hear Joel and Etho’s footsteps across the city, seeming to Tango like gunshots in the silence. There was a sense of panic deep seated in his heart, and a barrage of thoughts were cycling through his brain.

They’re so loud, it’ll hear them, we’re so close, can we make it, we need to be careful, it’s so dark here, we’re gonna die-

Something grabbed Tango’s shoulder from behind and he spun around, sword in hand, to see Jimmy. His soulmate jumped back, startled by the sudden movement, but his gaze was still focused on Tango. Tango could barely see Jimmy—he had traded his torch out for the sword, plunging them into darkness—but there was concern in his eyes and a hint of pity in his heart, he could feel it. Then he remembered the fear in his own mind and forced himself to relax, replacing some of the terror with a twinge of guilt.

“Sorry.” He only mouthed the word, still too scared to put any sound behind it.

Jimmy nodded and smiled, then responded by mouthing “It’s okay.”

Tango forced out a small nod, then turned back towards the enchanter and kept moving.

On the other side of the city, Etho and Joel were working their way towards the table, too, albeit a bit more quickly than Tango and Jimmy. They were louder, though, less careful, less protected, less mindful of the dangers that lie in the darkness.

An iron plated boot hit the hard stone tile, sending a crack echoing through the cavern. Tango froze. A second passed. A wave of light and spine-chilling clicks gleamed across the floor of the city as sensor after sensor lit up, all triggered by that one sound. Eventually, the wave subsided, but not before sending a shriek screaming into the air and drilling deep into Tango’s bones.

Tango’s eyes shot to where Etho and Joel were standing, giving them a wide-eyed glare, a mix of terror and fury. Joel shrugged in response, which made Tango cock his head to the side. Joel nudged Etho and whispered something, then took his bow off his back. Tango stepped back as his eyes got even bigger in disbelief. Next to him, a flicker of confusion passed through Jimmy’s face. Then the two of them watched as Joel nocked an arrow, then pulled back the string. Tango shook his head sharply and Joel let go of the string, sending it snapping back with a twang.

“No!” Tango shouted. He clamped his jaw shut just after the sound escaped his mouth, but it was too late.

Ripples of glowing cyan expanded from around each set of soulmates, bringing piercing shrieks and waves of midnight along with. The arrow Joel had fired landed just in front of Tango, sticking into the stone with a crack, but he barely noticed. Instead, his eyes were on the ground between the pairs, and what was climbing out of it.

Bone white claws were stabbed into the sculk-coated tile, piercing through the deepslate like it was gold. A pair of horns were reaching up into the air, dripping in fungi and shining almost like they were wet. It brought a frigid rush of air rushing through the cavern, icy enough to make even Tango feel as though it was ripping through his skin and tearing muscle from his bones. The ground was shaking, almost like it too was shivering from the cold. Worse, though, was the heartbeat. It pounded its way into Tango’s skull, drowning out all of his other thoughts and replacing them with nothing but dread. The wind had ripped the fire from his torch, leaving them in darkness again, but it seemed even more gloomy now. The shadows were creeping up on them, surrounding them from all sides. The dim light from the soul fire was gone now, too, leaving only the glowing, pulsing souls locked in the chest of the creature in front of them, and the luminous pages of the enchanting table’s tome.

It roared. The sound was deafening, leaving a ringing shock in Tango’s ears. He was frozen to the spot, staring at it in horror. The table was right there, but so was the creature. Jimmy grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, away from both of them. They stumbled back into the pitch black ruins, filling the halls with their frantic footsteps.

Tango took a quick glance over his shoulder, back into the center of the city. It was still there, and it was looking right at them, staring right at Tango with the eyes it didn’t have. It opened its mouth. A growl echoed through the city. Then a sound like the ragged inhale of broken lungs came from behind, right before an ear-splitting shriek screamed through the air, driving itself like thunder into Tango’s brain.

His mind was pounding, his heart was racing, his lungs were screaming, maybe he was screaming, too. He was stuck. The boom echoed through his head, ricocheting in his mind and building in his ears. To him, there was nothing else. Nothing but the blasting roar, like an explosion.

There was something in the air all around him. Small particles that got sucked into his lungs as he heaved for breath, taking short inhales and even shorter exhales. He coughed, driving some of it out of his throat, but most of it was still stuck. His hack was echoed by another three from behind him. Jimmy’s coughs were sharper, though, as he tried to clear his throat of the spores.

Tango reached out into the dark, then latched onto Jimmy’s hand. He held it tight, trying to steady both of them. The fear was creeping back into his head, and he was painfully aware of the noise they were making. Jimmy was still coughing, and Tango was breathless, and it was getting closer. He squeezed Jimmy’s hand.

How could he fix it? How could he save them? They had to make it out. They couldn’t lose another life. But how?

He reached into his inventory and grabbed a snowball. He pulled his arm back and chucked it across the city, over the creature’s head, right at Joel and Etho. It hit the ground and sent snow scattering over the sculk coated tile. The Warden stopped. Tango threw another snowball. It turned away from Tango, then faced where the snowballs had hit. He threw another. It started to walk towards them. Etho and Joel both froze as another snowball hit the stone. It charged forward, and Tango ran, towing Jimmy behind him.

He was moving as quickly and as quietly as he could, retracing their path through the city. It was still dark, and he could feel his snare drum heartbeat on his ribcage, but he continued. His hand was still holding Jimmy’s and he could still hear him coughing. A millisecond of worry flashed across his mind but was quickly drowned out by the stress.

Even further behind them, he could hear Etho and Joel screaming. It was roaring, and shaking the ground, the sculk around it lighting up at its movements. He could hear the clangs of swords against something much too tough to be cut, and the thwacks of arrows hitting their target but doing nothing, and the creaking of the wood of a shield as it failed to protect from the dangers around them.

Still, they kept moving. They kept going, finally making it out of the darkness. To the tunnel. Out of the city. To the surface.

A message in bright, sunny yellow flashed across his vision.

Smallishbeans was obliterated by a sonically-charged shriek

Then right after it:

Etho died

They kept moving, and Jimmy kept coughing, and they kept their hands intertwined. The deepslate around them shifted into stone, then dirt, and then air. They were out. The sun was on their faces, and the breeze was in their hair, and their Ranch was on the horizon. And Jimmy was still coughing.

His mind finally clear of darkness and panic, Tango was finally able to help him. He rushed over to the nearby river, pulling his soulmate along with him, and leading his soulmate to take a drink. Jimmy cupped his hands under the water, collecting a little puddle of it before raising his hands to his mouth and taking a sip.

Tango could feel a bit of an itch in his throat, but nothing that could cause a cough like that. He figured that he could feel a bit of whatever Jimmy had through the soulbond, which worried him even more. Had he caused it? He could still feel some of those particles in the back of his throat.

Jimmy gulped down more water, his cough finally subsiding for a moment.

“Do you think you’re ready to get back to the Ranch?” Tango asked. “It’ll be easier to figure out what’s going on at home.”

He took another sip, then nodded. “Yeah.” He stood, and then the two started walking in the direction of their house.

The journey didn’t take long, but about halfway through it, Jimmy’s cough returned. He stopped and brought a hand up to his mouth to try and stifle it, but was unsuccessful. Tango stood next to him, his expression made of pure concern.

“What is this?” Tango muttered to himself.

Jimmy choked down a cough. “I’m fine,” he said. “Let’s just keep going.”

“Okay.” He didn’t know what else to say.

After another couple minutes, they reached the walls bordering their Ranch and made their way inside. Jimmy sat down on the bed as Tango went to get more water and some food from their storage. He returned with a few loaves of bread and some bottles of water, which he handed to his soulmate before sitting down next to him. A couple minutes passed in silence as Jimmy ate and drank, until Tango asked a question.

“Has something like this happened before?”

Jimmy hesitated for a second before shaking his head. “I mean, my lungs have always been kind of bad, but nothing like this.”

Tango nodded.

The pair fell back into quiet, both lost in their own heads.

At least they were alive. Whatever this was, they would figure it out together.

At least they made it out. They didn’t get what they came for, though.

“I’m gonna go back down.” Tango said.

Jimmy frowned. “I don’t think we should go right now, we should rest for a bit.”

He paused. “I think it’s better if I go alone.”

“What?” Jimmy turned to Tango, his eyebrows scrunched. “No, you aren’t, we go together-“

Tango shook his head once. “Whatever you have started down there. There is no way you’re going back, okay?”

“No,” Jimmy repeated. “I am not letting you go back down there alone, we barely made it out with both of us.”

“I’ll be fine,” Tango reassured him. “We need enchantments.”

“Do we? I mean, none of the other players have them," he argued.

“Yes, we do.” Tango’s voice was firm. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

“Yeah, I guess, but can you at least wait until there are other people?”

“I can handle it,” Tango said, ignoring his still-jittery heart.

Jimmy paused, looking at Tango. “Are you sure we need it?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jimmy sighed. “Please be careful. Please don’t die-“

“I’m not going to get us killed again.”

“I- okay.”

There was a quick pause.

“Can I have your armor? And any tools you want enchanted.” Tango held out his hand, and Jimmy gave him his armor, along with a sword, bow, and pickaxe, however reluctantly. “Thank you.”

Tango put all of the armor pieces away, then put his hand in Jimmy’s. “I’ll be careful,” he said, looking into his soulmate’s eyes. His gaze darted away to look out one of the windows, then back to Jimmy just as quick. “I promise.”

“Okay.” There was some kind of reluctance on his face, so subtle Tango couldn’t place it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked.

Jimmy frowned a bit. “I’ll be fine. Are you… Can you tell?”

“A little,” Tango admitted. “But not much. I’m feeling more… emotions.”

“Ah.”

The candlelight flame of fear in the back of Tango’s heart grew, then was snuffed out.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’ll get this stuff enchanted, and then I’ll come back home, and we’ll be safe.” He squeezed Jimmy’s hand.

He sighed, then nodded. “Yeah.”

Tango let go, and Jimmy watched as he walked back outside and started in the direction of the tunnel he had made. He was keeping his breathing steady as he descended into the earth, holding a torch out in front of him as he walked, regardless of the ones already placed on the tunnel walls. He ventured back into the darkness, into the city, so slow that he was barely moving. He crept through the ruins like the darkness itself was preying upon him. It felt as though he had to force his heart to keep beating, like it would suddenly stop just so he could be quieter. He could feel the extra weight of Jimmy’s armor in his inventory, and the extra fear from Jimmy’s mind in his heart. Both were ever-present, a reminder of what he was here for and why he needed to make it back.

He made his way to the center of the city, then stopped. In front of him, framed by an ancient portal covered in sculk, was a red-draped altar and a gleaming book floating atop it. He stepped up to the table and set down a chunk of lapis lazuli, then turned his gaze to the tome. His eyes were scanning for Protection and Unbreaking, Efficiency, Sharpness, Mending, anything that could help. He paused for a split second after seeing the enchantment for Blast Protection, but continued. He kept his mind alert as he read through the enchantments they required, blessing each of the objects in turn. He enchanted Jimmy’s gear first, then his own, slowly burning through the lapis he had brought.

He set his chest plate on the altar, then started to flip through the pages. Once again, his eyes caught on the enchantment for Blast Protection. It took just a second of hesitation before he read the enchantment, crushing a small chunk of lapis over the armor and imbuing it with magic. A gleam of iridescent purple slid across the iron, and something in Tango’s mind calmed.

A drop of something wet hit his forehead. It was dark turquoise and cold, leaving a trail of its path as it rolled down his face. He looked up to see where it had come from and another drop fell, coating the surface of his eye.

Tango gasped and stumbled back, blinking furiously. He rubbed his eye, pressing hard with his thumb—a bit too hard. The darkness spread, flooding across his other eye and blocking out his vision. His heart hammered in his chest and his movements grew panicked, frantically trying to get the substance out of his eyes so he could see again. Then he stilled. His mind calmed down, his heartbeat slowed, and he let his hands drop to his sides. Darkness still coated his eyes. He stood still for a second, before a shimmer of aqua flitted across them.

Tango grabbed the pickaxe from his belt and watched a wave of glowing purple slide across it. Then he swung the pickaxe, digging the tip of it into the base of the table. After a couple more strikes, the base of the altar was destroyed, leaving the tome sitting atop the rubble, its light now dimmed. Tango reached down and picked up the book, snapping it shut and tucking it into one of his pockets.

He blinked, and the darkness leaked out of his vision. He gasped and tried to steady himself, unsure of what had just happened. His eyes were darting around the city, looking for any sign of a threat, but found nothing. Then he looked back at his pickaxe, and the purple shine it had. He took a breath, then started back towards his tunnel in silence.

Tango stepped back onto grass, on the surface once again. The sun was starting to set, glowing orangey-red and painting the sky with tints of yellow and pink. The Ranch was casting a shadow on the ground in front of it, the torches mounted on its walls letting off pinpricks of light. Seeing it again made him smile, knowing that he had made it back okay. He could feel Jimmy’s mind fill with relief in response. Although Jimmy didn’t quite know what was happening, Tango smiling was enough for him to know that things were okay.

He stepped up to the doors to their house and reached down to open one when the handle moved away from his hand and the door swung open. He was met with Jimmy’s smile, gleaming like he knew everything was okay.

“Hi!” Jimmy exclaimed. He walked towards Tango, going to wrap his arms around him in a hug, but as he did so, he pulled his hand up to his mouth and coughed into it, half stumbling into him in the process.

“H- oh, are you okay?” Tango asked.

“Yeah, I’m just-” He coughed a couple more times. “It’s just a cough.”

“You weren’t this bad when I left,” Tango noticed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tango led Jimmy into their house, both supporting him and pulling him towards the table in their kitchen. Jimmy pulled his arm out of Tango’s grasp and held his hand instead.

“I’m fine, really. Hey, and you’re fine too! Did you get everything that you wanted enchanted?” “Yeah, we’re all set!” Tango pulled all of Jimmy’s tools and armor out of his inventory and set them on the table. Each one had a rippling amethyst sheen to it, imbued with power and magic.

“Wow,” Jimmy said. He picked his sword up off the table and held it up, tilting the blade and watching a sparkle of light shine across it. Then he picked up the rest of his gear and stowed it away, admiring the luster to each of them before putting them away. “Y’know, I really do feel safer with all of these enchants.”

“Yeah, they’re definitely going to come in handy,” Tango responded, slipping his hand back into one of his pockets. Then his finger brushed against something unexpected: the leather cover of a book.

He ran his thumb across the material, feeling the details engraved into it. They were intricate and elegant, as far as Tango could tell. He grabbed onto the book and pulled it out of the pocket just enough to catch a glimpse of it. It had a brown leather cover with gold framing the edges and filling in the carvings. There was text carved into it too, but the words didn’t seem to have any meaning to them.

Snuff, galvanize, imbue, self, creature, fresh, ignite, free.

Tango let the book fall back into his pocket, electing to ignore it, then pulled out his own sword, its violet gleam reflecting in his eyes. “Now that we have this, we’ll be safe,” Tango said. “And we can figure out how to heal you.”

Jimmy nodded. “Yeah.” He paused for a moment. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, me too. I mean- I’m glad that you’re okay, not that I’m okay-” Tango grimaced. “Well I’m glad that I’m okay too but what’s more important is that you’re okay, which you are, and I’m glad.” He paused, took a breath, then looked at Jimmy. “I’m glad that you’re okay.”

Jimmy laughed, poorly disguising it as a cough, then actually coughed. Tango moved closer, concerned, but Jimmy recovered before he could do anything. Jimmy recognized the fear in his heart as not his own, then pursed his lips. “It’s fine, you said it yourself, we just need to figure this out, and then we’ll be okay, right?’

The reluctance on Tango’s face was clear. “Yeah.”

“We can do it.”

“Yeah. We’ll fix it.”

Rays of sunshine shone into the Ranch, marking the second day of the games. Jimmy could hear birds quietly chirping outside as he blinked himself awake. Tango was still asleep next to him, his expression more calm than Jimmy had seen. Something like sadness, or pity, or guilt flashed in his heart, which he solemnly acknowledged.

The blaring sound of a goat horn’s call trumpeted through the arena, and it was subsequently answered by two others right after.

Tango groaned, woken up by the noise. “Come on,” he muttered. “It’s too early.”

“We need to get some of those,” Jimmy decided. “I cannot stand them just sounding their horns all the time, and how they all respond to each other-” He cut himself off with an exasperated scoff. “We just need to get some.”

“Can’t it wait a few minutes?” Tango asked, half mumbling into his pillow. “And you’re supposed to be the sick one, how are you so energetic?” Jimmy waved him off. “I’m fine, see? It must’ve gone away already!” Then, almost as if on cue, a cough erupted from his throat, making him double over in pain as the hacks continued.

“Woah, hey,” Tango reached out a hand and put it on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, his hand still up to his mouth. “Yeah.”

Tango raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He climbed out of bed and walked over to a chest on the other side of the room, picked out some steak and more bottles of water, then walked back over to the bed and sat down next to his soulmate, handing him the items.

“Thanks,” he said, then took a long drink of water.

Tango gave a small smile in response. “If you really want to get some horns, I think I know where we could get a couple.”

Jimmy’s eyes lit up and Tango felt a surge of happiness in his heart. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tango smiled.

It took them a couple hours and some much needed help from Pearl, but they finally had their horns.

Tango was studying his, spinning it slowly in his hands, his eyes following its grooves.

“We should blow them at the same time!” Jimmy was practically jumping up and down holding his new goat horn.

There was a second of silence before Tango responded. His eyes darted away from the horn and up to Jimmy’s. “Huh?”

“Hey, you knew what I meant,” he complained, giving Tango a playful smack on the arm.

“Oh, right,” Tango forced out a quick laugh. “Yeah, let’s do it together. Ready?”

Jimmy nodded, and then the two of them each brought their horn up to their lips.

A pair of four quick notes sounded through the arena, ringing through the air like chiming bells. Jimmy squealed and Tango laughed, both followed by those same four notes once again.

Jimmy was grinning ear-to-ear. “Oh, I love it!”

“It’s amazing!” Tango agreed.

“And now, we can-” He cut himself off with another call of his horn, which was followed by a different call from across the map, answering his. “Yes! They’re answering!”

“And ours match, too, so we’ll always know that it’s us!” Tango beamed. “Oh, I am so glad we did this.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Hey, Scar,” Joel called. “Where are you?”

“Just over here,” he replied, coming from somewhere behind a wall of bamboo. “Would you like to come see the pandas?”

“Sure,” he replied, following Etho towards the Sanctuary.

The pair let themselves in through the gate and walked up to Scar, who was feeding one of the animals.

Scar turned to look at them, then smiled. “What can I do for you two gentlemen? There’s some bamboo in that chest over there if you’d like to feed the Jellies, no cost although donations are very much appreciated-”

“We came to ask about the enchanter,” Etho interjected.

Scar gave a quizzical expression. “Well what about it?” “Where is it?” Joel demanded, his voice blunt.

“It should be in the Deep Dark, is it not?”

“No. We went down there to enchant yesterday and got killed by the blummin’ Warden, and when we tried to go back today, the table was gone. So where is it?” He asked again.

“I don’t have it. I haven’t even been in the Deep Dark yet, Grian banned me from going,” he frowned.

“Are you sure about that?” Joel pressed.

Meanwhile, Etho had started to drift away from the other two and was studying the base of the Sanctuary’s walls, searching for any seemingly out of place dirt.

“Why, yes, I’m sure,” Scar huffed. “Does it look like I have the enchanter? If I did, I would be all shiny, which I am not. Sadly.”

Joel scowled. “Do you know who would have it, then?”

“No idea. Do you?” He paused for a second. “Well we did follow Tango and Jimmy down there, but they didn’t even get to enchant. And there’s no way they would steal the enchanter.”

Scar shrugged. “You never know. Maybe one of them decided to be a bit rebellious.”

“Yeah, no way,” Joel scoffed. “Not the Tango and Jim I know.”

“Hey, Jimmy?” Tango called from across the house.

“Yeah?”

“I have an idea of something I think we should do.”

“Alright,” Jimmy responded, walking towards the source of Tango’s voice. “What is it?”

Tango was leaning against their table, holding his pickaxe. “I think we should move underground, at least for a little bit.”

“What?” He looked a bit confused, caught off-guard by Tango’s idea.

“Just for a little,” he repeated. “I hate to leave our beautiful Ranch, but I think this is safest right now. I found a cave that we could use.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows scrunched up. “I thought you didn’t like caves.”

“Well it’s not that I don’t like them, I just don’t like when they’re not safe,” Tango said. “Besides, this will be better in the long run. As much as I love the Ranch, it’s a bit flammable.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I mean, I guess if you think that’s best, then sure. You are sure though, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tango nodded.

“Alrighty, then.” Jimmy sighed. “It’s a shame we’re leaving the Ranch, though.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m gonna miss it.”

“Me too. But it’s just for a little while, we’ll be back,” Jimmy figured.

“Yes, we will,” Tango smiled.

Jimmy let the blade of his scythe rest on the ground among the wheat he had harvested and lifted his hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. The midday sun was beating down hard on him, but it seemed less harsh than normal.

He had been outside farming and tending to the animals for a few hours now, to Tango’s reluctance. According to him, it was a much better idea to stay inside and underground, but Jimmy would’ve been lying to his face if he’d said that he agreed. The darkness and the cold seemed so suffocating to him, he could barely stand being down there for long. He knew that he agreed to hide out more, but his lungs were aching just thinking about being underground. He hadn’t even coughed that much as he was outside, in the warmth of the sun’s rays. It was calm, and there was a light breeze. It was nice, which made him even more adverse to spending all his time in a cave.

Tango seemed to be doing the opposite, though. The last time they had even seen each other was when he said they should stay underground more. Since then, he had been dutifully sticking to his own direction. Jimmy doubted that Tango had seen the sun since it rose. He had no idea how he could tolerate the cold for so long.

Technically, Jimmy was only supposed to be “preparing” to stay in the cave Tango found, stocking up on bread and meat so they didn’t have to go outside as much. He knew that he promised Tango he would stay safe, but he could never bear to part with the sky above him.

A voice jolted him out of his thoughts. “Hey, Jim.”

Jimmy looked up to see Joel and Etho crossing through the gates into the Ranch, both holding swords. He instinctively stepped back, tightening his grip around the scythe. “What do you want?” Something scratched at the back of his throat and he coughed to try and stop it. Shortly after, though, the feeling returned.

“Woah, no need to be so aggressive,” Joel joked.

“We came to ask about the enchanter.” Etho said.

Jimmy hesitated. “Okay?”

“Where is it?”

He looked confused. “I don’t have it.”

“Well then who does?” Etho questioned.

“Isn’t it still in the Ancient City?”

“Nope. Someone stole it, and we’re trying to figure out who.”

“And you’re asking me?” Jimmy raised his eyebrows. “You really think I stole the enchanter?”

“You two are the only players with enchants,” Joel said, gesturing at his and Etho’s dull armor. “So, yeah.”

“Well, I don’t have it, so you’re gonna have to look elsewhere, mister.”

“What about Tango?” Etho interjected.

“Yeah, where is he, anyway?” Joel glanced around the Ranch. “You two are soulmates, shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, together?”

“He’s mining,” Jimmy shot back. “And he doesn’t have the enchanter, either.”

Joel just squinted at him.

“Oh, come on, do you really think either of us would steal it? That’s Scar’s job.”

The three of them stared at each other in suspenseful silence for a minute, before Joel finally spoke.

“I know when you’re lying, Jim, and you’re not.”

“See? I told you we don’t have it,” he smiled. “Now go away, I have some farming to do.”

The next day, Jimmy still found himself outside, farming wheat in silence. The afternoon sun was once again showering him with its warmth, and he found himself giving up on keeping the sweat off his brow as he swung the scythe back and forth, cutting down swaths of wheat in an arc. The day was different, though. It seemed a little bit darker and a little bit colder than the previous two, like the sun was trapped behind an ever-growing cloud, regardless of the fact that the sky was completely clear.

A chill ran down Jimmy’s spine. He paused for a second, still comprehending what he had just felt. He was cold. Not in the sense of a passing breeze that was stronger than you’d expect, moreso like the constant throbbing of frostbite on your hands and feet. But he was never cold, or at least Tango wasn’t. Usually, Tango had more than enough heat to keep both of them warm, but recently that hadn’t been happening. It almost felt as though he hadn’t felt warm in a while.

Jimmy was standing in front of a row of chests, stowing all of the wheat he had harvested when he heard footsteps coming up from underground. Tango joined him at the chests, putting away various stones and ores. Neither acknowledged the other for a second, until Jimmy paused.

“Hey, Tango?” He asked. “Are you... cold?”

Tango raised an eyebrow and repeated his question. “Am I cold?”

“I mean like when you’re mining.” Jimmy added.

“I mean, sometimes. Why?”

“Well, when I was farming earlier today,” he ignored Tango’s slight frown. “I felt this.. I don’t know, shiver, through our soulbond. And I know you don’t really get cold or anything, but I was just wondering if something was going on.”

“What? No, I’m fine, it just-” There was a split second of hesitation. “-gets a bit cold down there sometimes.”

Jimmy nodded, even though he didn’t understand. “I see. So everything’s alright, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tango said.

“That’s.. good.”

Tango nodded, then disappeared back down the tunnel into the mines.

Jimmy sat on their bed, still awake, lit only by the glow of a lantern. The moon was out, shining a subtle glow through the windows. As much as it was beautiful, though, Jimmy’s mind was in other places.

Tango never took this long to come back. Usually he would be back in the house by now, preferring to avoid any mob that spawned rather than fight them.

Then a blood red message flashed across his vision, disrupting his train of thought.

Smallishbeans died because of Enderman

Followed by:

Etho died

They died again. Jimmy nearly gasped at it, even before he realized. They were reds now, the first pair in the game, meaning they could kill whoever they wanted, and that was not good for the two of them.

Jimmy tried to see if he could feel any reaction to the death through the soulbond, but came up with nothing, surprising him a bit. He expected Tango to be a bit more panicked about it—or at least excited. Instead, their soulbond felt empty, with almost another tinge of that same cold.

Jimmy frowned, and he blinked. His eyelids were getting heavier as the moon made its way into the sky. There were dozens of questions in his mind, none of which he could answer.

He blinked again, then closed his eyes.

Jimmy groaned as he slowly woke and stretched out of the awkward position he fell asleep in. His muscles were aching, as if punishing him for his lack of caring, and the air was scratching at his lungs, making him cough a couple times. He looked around, but saw no sign that Tango had even been out of mines since he last saw him. He sighed, then laid back down and tried to make himself comfortable.

Something had to be going on, he thought. He started to search back through his memories, trying to identify anything that could’ve caused this. He remembered when they had first met, and the creeper explosion that caused it, and then the pair of them going into the Ancient City, and-

The shriek. It was dark when it happened, but he remembered feeling those particles in the air and in his throat, like dust kicked up from the explosion. It was probably the reason for his own cough, he realized. But whatever Tango had was worse somehow. He didn’t know why, and no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t figure it out. He was digging through his mind, seeking out every speck of information on the substance he could remember.

It was called sculk, and it was like a fungus, and it spread when things died around it. It thrived in places like the Ancient City—dark, cold, and far underground. There were shriekers, and sensors, and Wardens, all made of the stuff. And it could hear you. It was dangerous, and not good to be around.

Then something else popped into his mind. A while ago, outside of the games, someone he knew got… infected. Cub. Jimmy didn’t know exactly what happened, but he knew that, while he was infected, Cub was different, changed, like he was possessed. He was distant, and obsessive, and almost manipulative.

Then Jimmy started to get worried. He was pretty sure Tango had been infected, too. He could still feel the ever-present chill in their soulbond and the absence of his soulmate in the rest of his heart. As soon as he had thought of the idea, it was like a fuse had been lit in his brain, making it blow up into a million questions.

If that’s what happened to Tango, how would he fix it? What would he do? Could he ask anyone about it? Who could he ask? Who would know? Who would help him?

His mind was frantically searching through every possibility, and crossing each name off the list a second after he thought of them. Then he hesitated, caught on a name bright in his mind among hesitance, fear, and desperation: Scar.

Scar was Cub’s old business partner, and he was there when Cub was infected. Out of all of the players, he would be the best one to ask by far. Still, though, there was no way he would actually help him. He would want something in return, that something being the enchanter, which he didn’t have, and there wasn’t much else he could offer. So, practically all options were off the table. Unless…

“Scar?” Jimmy called.

“Yes?”

“I have to ask you about something.”

“I see.” Scar set something in a chest and closed it, then turned to Jimmy. “Well, I’m happy to answer any question you have to the best of my abilities, but I’m afraid I’ll need something in exchange.”

“Yeah. See, I know you want the enchanter, but I don’t have it. I swear. I…” Jimmy hesitated, and his eyes darted to the side for a second. “I do know where it is. And I’ll tell you, if you can help me.”

Scar smiled. “Fantastic, I am very glad to hear that. Now, good sir, what can I help you with?”

“You know Cub, right? And you were there when he got infected with that stuff a while ago? Out of the games,” Jimmy asked.

“Ah.” Scar paused. “Yes, why do you ask?”

“I-“ He started, then cut himself off. “That’s not important. What can you- What happened?”

“Enchanter first.”

Jimmy frowned, then exhaled. He grabbed a piece of paper, jotted a series of random numbers down on it and handed it to Scar. “There’s the first coordinate, I’ll give you the other after.”

Scar tucked the paper in his pocket, then thought for a second before starting to speak. “Honestly, I don’t really know,” Scar shrugged. “I think he went to help Shubble with something at her swamp and got infected there. The infection itself only lasted a few days, but a lot happened. He went around spreading sculk everywhere, and got, like, possessed and stuff. Eventually, Shelby and a few others were able to get rid of it, though.”

“How did they cure him?” Jimmy spat out the question like it was freezing on his tongue.

“Potions, I think?”

Jimmy’s heart sank into his stomach. Potions, of course. The one thing he couldn’t make. “Are you sure?” He pressed.

“Yes, I am. Now, if that’s all you wanted, I believe I’m missing a coordinate,” he reminded.

Jimmy huffed impatiently and looked for another piece of paper to write on. When he couldn’t find one, let out a short groan and held out his hand. “Give me it back.”

Scar hesitated for a moment before complying. Jimmy snatched the paper out of Scar’s hand, scribbled the other coordinate next to the first, then shoved it back at him. He opened his mouth to give a quick ‘thank you,’ but was cut off by another voice.

“Hey there, Jim.”

Joel and Etho were walking out from under the cover of the forest towards them, their eyes shining blood red.

“Ah, gentlemen, nice to see you again,” Scar smiled.

Immediately after, Jimmy spun on his heel, his boots digging into the soft ground as he sprinted away, bushing through branches and leaves. He could hear the pair give chase, their footsteps pounding. The creak of a bowstring cut through the monotony, followed by the thwack of an arrow burying itself in the trunk of a tree next to him. Two more arrows followed it, each getting closer and closer to him, but never quite hitting their target. Then the forest gave way to the desert, open and plain. He kept running, pushing himself through the sand as arrows whizzed past him on either side.

“C’mon, Jim, die already!” Joel yelled.

Etho stopped and drew his bow back once more, carefully took aim, then let the arrow fly. This time, it sailed through the air in a perfect arc and landed in the meat of Jimmy’s shoulder. Jimmy gasped as he felt piercing metal dig deep into his muscle, the arrowhead planting itself right next to his bone. He stumbled but kept running, slowly making his way across the field of sand. He could feel Etho’s eyes following him as he ran, watching him before lining up a second shot, but another never came. Their footsteps faded from view as he finally left the desert, clinging onto the life that remained.

Jimmy pushed through the front door into the Ranch, breathing quickly. There was blood soaking his shirt now, draining out of the puncture wound left by the arrow, which was still stuck in his shoulder. He could feel his heart shaking and his shoulder throbbing as he pulled the arrow out. After he got it unstuck, he set it on the table next to him and began to clean the wound. As he did, he searched through the deeper parts in his heart, looking for anything through the soulbond, but found nothing. No panic, no worry, not even pain. There was no evidence of Tango even noticing he had been shot.

For a split second, Jimmy wondered if something had broken, if the game had glitched or something. Because what else would it be? There’s no way Tango wouldn’t at least be able to feel the arrow. He had lost nearly 5 hearts after all, and that was hard to ignore. Still, though, there was nothing.

Jimmy tied the ends of the bandage around his shoulder, then stood. He walked over towards the bank of chests on the wall, but paused at the entrance to the mine. What was he doing down there? There was no way he was still actually mining. If he was, he would’ve gone through dozens of pickaxes at this point, and for what? It’s not like they needed that much. Gods, it seemed like forever since he had last seen him. He could barely feel him, either. Another couple of coughs escaped his lungs.

He was staring down the tunnel into Tango’s mineshaft, blood now soaking through his bandages, nothing but confusion in his eyes and a lump in his throat.

Jimmy was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, almost completely unmoving. He was seated right next to the entrance to the strip mine, just sitting there, thinking. Originally, it had been a decision of whether he should be worried, but now it was more along the lines of whether he should go look for Tango or just leave him alone. He was worried, there was no debate about that, but deciding what he would do about it was what troubled him.

He was thinking about what Scar had said, too. They used potions to cure him, which was impossible here. So that wasn’t it. Whatever Tango had was different, he told himself. Something else. Maybe he didn’t even have anything at all, who knows? Besides, Scar said that Cub got sick from Shubble’s swamp, which Tango definitely didn’t go into. So that wasn’t it. Maybe it was just the games. They changed people, he knew that. After all, it’s kind of hard to kill your friends in cold blood for sport one day, then go back to being buddies the next. To avoid that, most players acted differently in the games, like they were playing a character instead of being themselves. For all he knew, that was all that was going on. Everyone was fine, including Tango, and so was he.

Something hard struck the wood of their front door–the pommel of a sword. The sound it made was sharp and deliberate, with an air of impatience to it. It was a knock, but not a question: a demand.

Jimmy pushed himself off the floor, grabbed his sword from his belt and walked over to the door. One hand clenched the grip of his sword and the other reached out for the doorknob, the rest of his muscles tense.

He opened the door. Standing behind it, as he expected, was Scar, Etho and Joel on either side of him.

“Hi,” Jimmy started.

“Hi Jimmy,” Etho replied, his face blank.

“I assume you know why we’re here,” Scar said, holding the piece of paper Jimmy gave him between his fingertips.

“Okay, yeah, look, I don’t know where it is. I just needed some info, that’s all. And it didn’t even affect you!” Jimmy defended.

“Well, you did lie to me. And after I placed my trust in you, Jimmy,” Scar tutted. “I can’t believe it.” He closed his fist around the paper, crushing it into a tight ball before dropping it.

“Hey-!” Jimmy took a step back and scowled at Scar. “Okay, I might’ve lied to you then, but I’m not lying when I say that I don’t have it. Neither of us do.”

“Then I guess it’s magically disappeared, huh, Jimmy?” Joel interjected. “You’re the only people that could have it.”

“No-“

“Speaking of, where is your soulmate?”

“He’s mining.” Jimmy said sharply.

“Still?” Etho laughed.

Joel smiled. “Trouble in paradise, huh, Jim?”

“No, hey-“ Jimmy stopped himself, then sighed. “Look, how do you know someone else doesn’t have it?”

“You’re the only players with enchanted gear.” Scar shrugged, tapping his knuckle against Jimmy’s chestplate. “It’s simple, Jimmy.”

“Yeah, look at you, all shiny,” Etho added.

“Well they could be framing us!”

Scar raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think that, Jimmy?” His voice was full of venom, so much so that it almost surprised him.

“Yeah, well,” He trailed off.

“Just tell us where it is and we’ll leave you alone,” Etho offered.

Joel grinned unsympathetically. “Yeah, and we won’t even kill you.”

“Great, thanks.” Jimmy replied dryly. In his head, though, sirens were blaring loud and clear.

Gods, where was Tango? He needed someone to back him up on this, there was no way he could just get them to leave by himself. If Tango were there, maybe he could convince them that they didn’t have the enchanter, because they didn’t! The situation was infuriating, but that didn’t stop him from being terrified.

“Hey guys, how about we settle this later, alright?” He started to pull the door closed when Scar stepped forward and braced his arm against the door, keeping it open.

“Well, actually, my friend, I think I’m gonna need something in exchange for my troubles. How about that shiny armor of yours?” Keeping one hand on the door, he held out his other expectantly.

Jimmy shook his head and stepped back. “Uh, yeah, no, you can go get your own armor.”

Scar paused, silent. Jimmy could tell that the gears in his mind were turning, but he couldn’t tell why.

“Okay, fine.” He stepped back and took his hand off the door, which Jimmy immediately slammed in his face.

His heart was racing, pounding against his chest as he retreated back, farther into his home. They left. Never in a million years did he think they would actually leave. But they did, and it was going to be okay. He felt as though the sun was actually warm again, beaming in through the windows and freeing him from that cold in his heart. It was finally warmer, he could feel it. Everything was back to normal, and it would be okay.

Then the scent of smoke caught his nose. He heard laughing from outside. Jimmy froze. He looked out one of the windows. The light seemed… red. Then the first plank gave away. Flames were burning bright, licking along the edge of the wood, and smoke poured in through the hole as more and more of the wood gave away to the blaze.

The Ranch was on fire.

Jimmy was breathing quickly, inhaling what seemed like equal parts smoke and air as he rushed to the mineshaft entrance and screamed for Tango to come up, both for help and to make sure he was okay. He waited, but there was no response. He started to call out again but was overcome with a fit of coughs as pain wracked his lungs. The room was filled with dark gray smoke now, making it impossible to even see how bad the damage was getting. He choked out another cough, then inhaled more smoke, then coughed again. He shut his watering eyes tight and turned back to where the door had been, then stumbled towards it. He pushed himself through the doorway and onto the grass, into open air. He fell to his knees on the still dewy grass and forced himself to breathe, pumping oxygen into his lungs and pushing the smoke out. His mouth was dry like it was coated in sand and his throat was raw like he had swallowed those same particles.

As his lungs were still recovering, he turned back to the Ranch—or what remained. The fire had traveled fast, completely coating the entire structure and engulfing it in flame until there was nothing left to burn. Now, charred wooden boards were scattered across the ground among shattered glass and cracked fence posts, leaving the stone entrance to the tunnel that led deep down below almost completely unharmed.

Jimmy just stared at that arch, unmoving as wisps of smoke continued to rise. His throat was dry, and his lungs were dry, but his cheeks were wet. He hacked out another quick cough then pushed himself off the ground, staggering for a couple steps before he caught his balance. He strode through the broken framework of their house and stormed down the stairs. His boots were catching on loose stone, but he continued unbothered. It got colder and colder as he descended into the earth, and the walls around him changed from stone to deepslate, driving the world into shadow. There were much less torches on the walls as he went further down, so much so that when he reached the bottom, he could barely see. He could tell Tango was there, though.

“Tango!” His voice was cracked and hoarse, and it hurt, but he yelled a second time anyway. “Tango!”

He stepped out of the darkness, holding a pickaxe in one hand and a sword in the other. “Ye-“

Jimmy grabbed Tango’s arm and pulled, ignoring his protests, and dragged him up through the tunnel. His grip was unrelenting, forcing Tango to follow him. Finally, they made their way all the way out of the mines and into the sunlight.

It seemed to take him a second to notice the absence of their house. “Um.” Tango said.

“Um? That’s it? Our house has been burned to the ground, and that’s all you have to say?” Jimmy’s voice cracked.

“What else do you want me to say?”

“Uh, I don’t know, maybe be a little sad about it? C’mon, we made this house together, and now it’s burned to ash, and you’re not even sad? What’s happened to you?”

There was a shift in Tango’s tone. “What happened to me?”

“Yeah- back when we first met, the Tango I knew would’ve killed anyone who did this, and now, all you say is um.” He put an emphasis on the final word, distaste in his voice.

Tango sneered. “Yeah, well, it’s not like you haven’t changed too.”

“Yeah? How have I changed, huh?”

“You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t-“ Jimmy gaped. “I don’t trust you? When have I ever not trusted you? This whole time, I’ve been willing to follow what you say, I’ve agreed, I’ve helped you- I forgave you, and you’re saying I don’t trust you?” He gestured wildly as he defended himself, red-hot anger flaring up in his heart.

Tango stared at him, his face set. “Yeah. You have agreed, but you haven’t actually followed through. Every time I say we should do something, you go along with it at the start, then leave and ignore me.”

“I- yeah, okay, fine, maybe I do, but that’s not because I don’t trust you.”

“Are you sure about that?” He tilted his head to the side. “We’re supposed to be soulmates, Jimmy, and you act like I don’t exist.”

“No. I look out for you, I defend you, I’m trying to help you, and where were you when Scar burnt our house down?” Jimmy threw his arms out to his sides like he was reveling in the ruins around him.

“I was mining,” Tango shot back. “Gathering resources for us, so we don’t die.”

He scoffed. “Oh yeah? And what do you have to show for it?”

Still holding eye contact with Jimmy, Tango reached out to a chest next to him, grabbed its latch and pulled. The chest tipped from its shelf and fell open, scattering its contents on the floor. A wave of diamonds and iron and gold swept over the tiles, surrounding the two of them in a puddle of riches. The sunlight from above reflected off the shining metals and gems, covering both of them in specks of light.

Jimmy froze, staring down at the sparkling gemstones covering the floor. Tango stayed silent, too, in satisfaction.

Then Jimmy looked up at him, into his dark eyes. “Fine. If you wanna keep mining, do it. Just don’t expect anything out of me.”

“Sounds fantastic.”

Jimmy barely spared him a second glance before spinning on his heel, sending a few of the gems skittering across the floor, and walking out through the remains of the doorway.

Jimmy’s jaw was clenched as he swung his scythe through the new growth of his fields, accidentally clawing a gash in the dirt and uprooting some of the plants. He stopped himself from taking another swing and frowned at the exposed roots, then squatted down, sighing. He let his scythe rest on the ground next to him as he pushed the roots of the crop back into the ground and patted some dirt into place on top of it, then worked on filling in the rest of the divot.

Around him, night was falling. The sun had dipped behind the treeline minutes ago, so there was no point to him still standing amongst the wheat, but that didn’t stop him. He might as well—what else would he do?

He closed his eyes and bowed his head like he was praying to the dirt, silent and thinking. The argument still rang in his mind, even as he tried to push it out. He couldn’t tell if he regretted anything, though. He could still barely feel their soulbond, which was now just a faint echo of what it had been at the start of the game.

He didn’t regret anything. He was right to be mad. When nothing was left, when they were supposed to still have each other, Tango left. Well, they had both left.

Jimmy stood, grabbing his scythe, and walked over to the oak tree towering over what would’ve been their front lawn. He leaned the tool against the trunk of the tree, then sat down beneath it, tipping his head back until it rested on the tree’s bark. The air still stunk of smoke, and it reeked on Jimmy’s clothes and in his hair. He did his best to ignore it. Jimmy folded his hands in his lap, intertwining his fingers together and holding on tight, then closed his eyes as the moon rose high into the sky.

The shining white sun peeked through the trees once more, bringing about the fifth day of the games. The players were starting to get tired now, which pushed them further into desperation. The games were starting to weigh down on them as their lives were ripped away one by one.

Etho and Joel, of course, were red—the first to turn. Ren and BigB had died to an enderman first, then a creeper, both mistakes but they were on their final life nonetheless. Scott and Pearl were the other two reds, their demise brought about by their own disagreement. Grian and Scar, and Martyn and Cleo were both yellow, in addition to Tango and Jimmy. Most of them had died to mobs of some kind, bringing them into the danger zone between safety and freedom. Bdubs and Impulse were the only two who hadn’t lost any of their lives, the bright, healthy green still shining in their eyes. And unfortunately for them, the reds wanted nothing more for that life to be gone.

Between the reds, there was talk of a hunt to knock Bdubs and Impulse down to their second life. It was supposed to be a secret, but it wouldn’t be a surprise if the pair of them knew already. That meant time for them to prepare, which meant a more entertaining fight, which was always welcomed.

The battle cry of a chorus of horns rang through the arena, announcing that the hunt for the greens’ heads had begun. Jimmy winced sympathetically. He did not envy the position the two of them were in. It wasn’t his business, though, so he continued about his day, preparing for when he and Tango would be the target of their swords.

He still couldn’t tell if he regretted what he’d said. If he was honest, it didn’t even matter to him anymore. If they couldn’t agree on anything, there’s no way they would make it in these games. He tried to see if their soulbond held any hints of what Tango was feeling, but there wasn’t much. Not like yesterday, when both of their hearts were teeming with anger. Now, there was much more… nothing. But nothingness was better than anger, right? He had been less cold throughout the morning too, he realized. And he was coughing less. Both good signs. It was like, as Tango calmed, Jimmy got better. He hoped that’s what was happening.

So they were okay—or at least better—and that was good enough.

The two of them met, once again, at the rows of chests against their wall. They were starting to run out of space to store things.

As Jimmy was filling yet another chest with bundles of wheat, a string of yellow text appeared in his eyes.

Bdubs fell from a high place

Followed by:

Impulse died

Jimmy took a pause as he acknowledged what he had just seen. “They got them,” he muttered. He closed the chest and turned his head towards Tango. “You know they’re gonna go for the yellows next, right? And Etho and Joel already don’t like us. They and Scar think we have the enchanter for some reason, and they think I’m lying to them, so-“

“Oh, yeah, the enchanter? About that…” Tango’s sentence trailed off as he stopped what he was doing and reached into one of his pockets, then pulled the book out for Jimmy to see.

“You- what?” He shouted in disbelief, snatching the book out of Tango’s hands to inspect it. He ran his fingertips over the gilded detailing, tracing the engraved lines and text. He ripped it open, then flipped through the blank pages, his mouth still hanging open in shock. “It’s real. You really-” He looked back up at Tango, a glower on his face. “You actually stole it, and you never thought to tell me?” He paused for a second, as if waiting for him to say something, but continued before he could.

“Y’know, to know that everyone was actually right to harass me all the time would’ve been great to know,” He seethed, then snapped the book shut and thrust it back at Tango. Before he was able to grab it, though, Jimmy let go and it fell to the floor with a smack. Jimmy took a second’s glance at it before scoffing and walking in the other direction. Tango stared at him for a second, then at the book before bending down and picking it up. He tucked it back into his pocket, then returned his gaze to Jimmy, expressionless.

“Right, we’re gonna need to deal with them at some point,” Jimmy huffed.

“Don’t worry about that. I have the perfect idea.” Tango promised. The shadow of a smile spread across his face.

A shiver ran through Jimmy’s bones. He was perched up high on a ledge, watching all that happened below.

Tango was sneaking through the ruins of the City much faster than Jimmy could have ever bared to imagine. He could barely spot him moving so quickly in the dark, like a predator on the hunt. It was like he belonged there.

He was working his way towards the City’s center, occasionally pausing to set something on the ground behind him, sometimes even chipping into the stone tiles to hide it.

When Jimmy first saw the shiny purple glint of his pickaxe swinging through the air, his heart seized up. He was going to die, there was no doubt about it. Then he watched the tip of Tango’s pickaxe crack the stone. An audible, heart-wrenching snap sounded throughout the city. Nothing happened. Tango placed a small red bundle in the hole, then placed a fragment of stone on top to conceal it.

Jimmy let out a shaky exhale, equal parts confused and relieved. How? As much as he was afraid to admit it, Tango shouldn’t be alive right now. And yet, he continued through the city, completely unbothered.

When he finally reached the center, Tango took a quick pause to look out on the City, his face solemn like he was the one who built it and was now regrettably putting it to waste. Then he pulled out his communicator.

<TangoTek> scar, etho, joel, i think theres something you’re gonna want to see

He looked up at Jimmy and nodded. Jimmy nodded back, then turned around.

Behind him was an incomplete altar, missing just one thing. He took the book out of his pocket, along with a chunk of lapis, and set both on the table. He pulled his scythe off his belt, flipping through the book’s pages and eventually landing on the incantation for Efficiency. He gave a little shrug to no one but himself, then whispered the enchantment and crushed the lapis over the blade, his hands shaking.

SolidarityGaming has made the advancement [Enchanter]

<GoodTimeWithScar> I KNEW IT

<Smallishbeans> jim you dirty little liar

<Etho> hey jimmy where are you?

<SolidarityGaming> nowhere

<Smallishbeans> yeah uhuh

Now all they had to do was wait.

Soon enough, Jimmy spotted a light at the base of the staircase, signaling that someone was here. He looked at Tango, who had noticed the same thing as him and was pulling out his sword.

Even though Jimmy was safe high above the City, well out of blast range and almost completely hidden, he couldn’t stop a bit of fear from bubbling up in his heart. He trusted Tango, enough anyway, but this was still going to be a three-on-one if everything went to plan, and Tango had never prided himself on his fighting skills. He’d known that since the very first day.

Maybe he had been practicing or something. A bit unusual for him, but he figured that Tango hadn’t been usual at all recently. Did he even know what ‘usual’ for him was? They had never really gotten to know each other since the games started, with him farming and Tango in the mines all day. Not like all the other soulmates, who relied on each other, and knew each other, and helped each other. Maybe Tango was right about staying underground more. He’d hate it, but he and Tango would be working together much more. He decided that, if they made it out of this, that’s what he would do.

An explosion rang through the cavern. An explosion? Had they brought firework rockets or something?

Another explosion. He paid more attention this time. A cloud of white smoke and dust covered one of the paths, but there was no sign of any firework stars in the air. So what was it? Had they- no, Tango did. That’s what he was doing. Planting TNT.

Jimmy’s eyes widened. There was no way. He would never. He never wanted to do anything with TNT or explosions, and now here he was, laying dozens of TNT powered traps, in an Ancient City, no less? He was out of his mind.

Tango cocked his head to the side, watching the events in front of him unfold. Explosions continued to rock the City from below, blowing craters into the paths that led to the center. He still simply stood inside the portal frame, sword in hand but completely at ease. Around him, the sculk was screaming, singing, calling forth a Warden to solve the problems the City faced. Shrieker after shrieker went off and waves of darkness pounded across the ruins, which made Tango do little more than change his stance.

Joel and Etho and Scar were scared, Tango could tell. They were panicking, a completely reasonable reaction to the events taking place, but nonetheless entertaining. And he could use it to his advantage.

Tango stepped off the platform in the center of the City, heading straight towards the unlucky three. He moved effortlessly through the cratered ruins, not at all acknowledging the darkness all around them. Waves of aqua light from the sculk rolled past him as he walked, almost like they were showing him the way towards his prize. A Warden was on the surface now, several actually. He didn’t know exactly where, but he could hear their screams echo through the City towards him. He continued, paying them no mind.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground, shooting through the layers upon layers of stone between them and the surface, bright white light flaring across the area.

Etho blew up

Smallishbeans died

They were out. Gone completely. Finally. One less problem he had to deal with. He continued, though, still on the hunt for his final target.

He could hear Scar’s frantic breathing as he rushed back towards the exit as fast as he could, fumbling in the dark. He wasn’t moving fast, though, and he couldn’t tell Tango was behind him. Tango doubted that was one of Scars priorities at the moment. Oh well.

The heartbeat booming strongly in Tango’s ears was like a war drum pushing him forwards and the chittering of the sculk was like the snare that accompanied it, together making a battlefield’s symphony.

He was right behind him now. Tango raised his sword without even a second of pause, then brought it swinging down.

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by TangoTek

Grian died

Jimmy breathed out a shaky sigh, partly of relief and partly of morbid amazement. He did it, and he managed to not die. Not like Jimmy didn’t have any faith in him. Just slightly unexpected, that’s all.

Jimmy slowly climbed down from his little cutout high in the cave wall to meet Tango, who was making his way towards the exit. He kept his head on a swivel, constantly looking out for the Wardens that had spawned during the fight, but there didn’t seem to be any around. Weird.

“Tango!” Jimmy whispered as enthusiastically as he could. “You did it!”

“Yeah,” Tango smiled, talking at a normal volume.

A speck of concern passed through Jimmy’s mind. “Hey, quiet down a bit, we’re still in the Deep Dark.”

Tango waved him off. “We’ll be fine. Can I have the book back?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Jimmy nodded, speaking slightly louder. He retrieved the book and handed it back to Tango, who quickly stowed it away.

“Hey, you know he’s gonna come after us again, right?” Jimmy asked.

“Who, Scar?”

He nodded. “And now that he’s red and knows we have the enchanter, there’s no way he’ll stop.”

Tango tilted his head to the side. “Not unless we kill him first.”

Jimmy scrunched his eyebrows in surprise. “Woah, hey, we might want to lay low for a bit first.”

“Why? What’s the point? We know that he wants the enchanter and that he’s not gonna stop trying to get it, which will be a pain, so might as well get rid of the problem.”

“I mean, yeah, but don’t you want to relax a bit or something. Killing a guy two times in a row seems a bit hard,” he laughed awkwardly.

“Does it, though?”

“Uh, yeah. C’mon man, we aren’t even red yet,” Jimmy reminded him. He was a bit concerned about Tango killing someone else as a yellow, but Tango didn’t seem to notice the issue at all. “Let’s get back up to the surface, it’s cold down here.”

A couple seconds passed before Tango responded. “Alright.”

Jimmy gave a small smile, then started up the staircase out of the City.

Now comfortably in the sunlight once again, Jimmy was free to simply watch as more and more deaths happened.

After the double kill down in the City, the rest of the players had been understandably confused about what had taken place, but neither him nor Tango offered any explanations. Eventually, people stopped asking. Now, it was almost like they were avoiding him. Still, though, the games continued.

Following what she said was a betrayal on Martyn’s part, Pearl decided that she was due her revenge.

ZombieCleo was doomed to fall by PearlescentMoon

InTheLittleWood died

Just hours later, a second bolt of white-hot fire struck as Ren and BigB were ripped out of the games by Grian.

Rendog was skewered by a falling stalactite

Bigbst4tz2 died

And apparently Martyn also felt as though Pearl’s killing Cleo was somewhat of a betrayal. A third bolt of lightning crashed towards the ground.

PearlescentMoon blew up

Smajor1995 died

Too bad he got caught in the blast. Lightning strike number four.

InTheLittleWood blew up

ZombieCleo died

There were just three pairs of soulmates left now: Jimmy and Tango, Impulse and Bdubs, and Grian and Scar. Grian and Scar were the only reds left in the game, and unfortunately for the yellows, they were out for blood. Unfortunately for Grian and Scar, Tango was, too.

“Timmy!” A voice yelled.

Jimmy wasn’t at all surprised to hear it. Both he and Tango knew that this would happen the moment Tango had said anything about his idea. Still, though, that didn’t mean he was entirely prepared.

“Yes?” He called back.

He turned and Tango did the same, both now looking towards Grian and Scar. They stood in front of the others, their gleaming armor somehow giving them an air of power.

“We know you know why we’re here, so let’s just make this quick, yeah?” Grian stepped forward. “Give us the enchanter.”

This was going exactly how the two of them thought it would. They had expected this, and had planned for it, so Jimmy knew what would happen next.

“No.” Tango said.

“What?” Jimmy’s eyes widened. That wasn’t a part of the plan. What was he doing?

Scar took a quick step forward, too fast for either of them to react, and brought his sword up to Jimmy’s throat. “What about now?”

Jimmy’s muscles tensed up, his mind filling with fear. “Tango, what are you doing? Just give it to them!”

“Why should I?” He shot back.

“Because this is what we agreed on!”

“Since when do you follow agreements? Why should I have to?”

“Because my life, and therefore your life, is at stake here,” Jimmy gestured at Scar, who was sharing a quizzical look with Grian.

Tango barely acknowledged Jimmy’s words before looking back at Grian. “I’m not giving it to you.”

“Tango, just do it! Please!” The edge of the blade was cutting into his throat now, drawing blood.

“No.”

“Fine,” Grian said, and Scar swung his sword clean through Jimmy’s neck. Almost ten seconds later, Tango dropped to the ground beside him.

Jimmy gasped. His heart was racing in his chest, and his neck was aching sharply. He was in the center of where their house used to be, sitting on the ground.

“Tango-” he started, then looked to the side of him. Tango wasn’t there. “Tango? Where-”

Tango shot awake next to him, breathing quickly. He was clutching his chest like he was scared, or missing something. He turned and saw Jimmy next to him, a weird expression on his face.

“What happened?” Tango asked.

“What do you mean ‘what happened,’ you got me killed! Again.” He added, spite in his voice.

“Wait, I what?” Dread filled Tango’s eyes.

Jimmy scoffed in disbelief. “I can’t believe you. After all of that crap that happened earlier, and you literally not caring whether I died or not, and you’re trying to act like it never happened? What’s wrong with you?”

“No, wait, what?” Tango was fumbling through his words, overwhelmed by Jimmy’s reaction.

“I cannot believe I ever trusted you.” Jimmy sneered. “Something’s always been going on, hasn’t it? What is it?”

“I- I don’t know. I’m sorry,” Tango tried. He was confused and he was hurting but he tried.

Jimmy paused, looking at him. “No you aren’t. I’ve learned that well enough already.”

He pushed himself up and walked through the still standing doorway into their garden. A message popped up, written in red.

BdoubleO100 was killed by Grian

ImpulseSV died

Jimmy didn’t even flinch at the words, but Tango made an audible gasp as he followed Jimmy.

“Bdubs died! And they’re red, too? Already?”

“What do you mean ‘already’? The game’s nearly over,” Jimmy responded, annoyance in his voice. “It’s just us, Bdubs and Impulse, and Grian and Scar left.”

“What? What do you mean it’s only the six of us? Did something happen?” Tango sounded genuinely concerned, and that only made Jimmy more irritated.

Jimmy spun on his heel to face Tango. “Right, cut it out with this not remembering crap, will you? It’s getting annoying.”

“Wha- oh, I, uh, I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I just-“

“What is going on with you?” Jimmy pressed. “Did you hit your head or something?” He let out a dry laugh.

“I don’t… know.”

Jimmy scoffed.

“Did something happen?” He asked.

“You tell me,” he replied in mock confusion.

Another message, this time gray.

ImpulseSV tried to swim in lava

BdoubleO100 died

“And there goes those two,” Jimmy commented absentmindedly.

Tango blinked at the words in shock, gaping at Jimmy. “How are you being so casual about this? They just died- like died died, and you don’t even care!”

“You get used to it.”

“No, you don’t,” Tango argued. “It’s only been a day and you’re saying that us, Grian and Scar are the only people left alive?”

“Are you joking?” The fire in Jimmy’s eyes and the anger in his voice shocked Tango into silence. “You must be joking. Because we both know you aren’t telling the truth.”

“I am,” Tango protested.

“And you think I’m gonna believe you? Now? After you betrayed my trust I don’t even know how many times?”

“Look, I’m sorry for whatever I did, but I really don’t know what’s going on.”

Jimmy just rolled his eyes pointedly, his nostrils slightly flared. “Very funny.”

“Jimmy, humor me. Tell me what I did, or at least what happened to everyone.”

“They died,” He deadpanned. “What else could it have been?”

“Okay, yeah, I guess, that would make sense, but how?”

Jimmy let out a sharp exhale. “Look, if you’re gonna be a pain, at least be helpful for once.”

“I-“ he started, then stopped. “For once?”

“Yeah. Make us some new armor or something. Use some of those diamonds. I’m sure there’s plenty, seeing as you never touched them after you put them away.”

“Some of those…?” His eyebrows furrowed as he walked over to the chests and opened one. Piles of sparkling ores and gems filled the chest to the brim so much so that it was almost overflowing. “Wha…” Tango stuck his arm into the chest, digging through the pile of minerals. “I found all these?” He seemed amazed at himself.

“Yeah, and it was all for nothing since but we died anyway. They have the enchanter now, too. And our armor, and our tools, because you just couldn’t bear to give up your precious book.” He turned to Tango. “It was all a waste. All of your paranoia, all of your mining, even the enchanter was pretty much useless, you know that right?”

“Wh- I, uh…” Tango stammered, caught completely off guard by his soulmate’s bluntness. He could feel a lump forming inside his throat, clawing at his flesh. “I-” Something was welling up in his eyes, and before he could notice, a drop of it rolled down his cheek and fell onto his arm. It was dark turquoise, almost black, and it seemed to dry out instantly, leaving behind small black particles. He stared down at it, confused. Then memories came rushing back to him. Not all of them, but just enough.

“No.” He said, but he wasn’t talking to Jimmy. “No, no, no no no-“

“What?” He snapped. “What is that?” Jimmy strode back into the ruins of the Ranch, towards Tango.

Tango held his hands up defensively, gesturing for Jimmy to stay away. “Hold on, just wait a second, okay?”

“And why should I?” He stepped forward again. “Tango, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what caused it, but I am so sorry.” There was something in his eyes that Jimmy had seen before, the very first time they’d met. That same expectant, apprehensive guilt as the first time he had gotten the two of them killed. He was breathing quickly, too, his hands still held out as if he was trying to protect Jimmy from himself.

Jimmy stepped back.

An arrow stuck into the ground between them. Jimmy’s head shot to where it had come from, his eyes scanning the trees for signs of the only other two players left alive: Grian and Scar. Reflexively, he pulled up his arm to take cover behind a shield, only to realize that he didn’t have one. No sword, ethier. He rushed over to a chest and fished out one of his old, chipped swords from the beginning, as well as an equally beat up shield. He raised the shield just in time for another arrow to pierce the wood, the tip of the arrowhead making its way completely through before getting stuck. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tango rifling through chests too, presumably looking for more old weaponry that he could grab.

Scar and Grian moved in closer, out of the cover of the forest towards their targets. Their armor was shining purple, the same sets Tango and Jimmy had been wearing earlier that same day. Jimmy scowled at the sight, holding his sword up higher. Behind him, Tango was also holding a sword and shield, both rather damaged. His hands were shaking, though, and those spore-laden tear tracks still coated his cheeks.

A flash of violet swung through Jimmy’s vision as Grian closed in on him. The sound of iron clashing rang through their ears as swipes and cuts were exchanged between the pair.

Next to him, Tango was backing up, out of their house as Scar pursued. A crossbow appeared in Scar’s hand just a split second before it fired, shooting a rocket straight at Tango. He froze when he saw it but managed to duck out of the way just in time. It hit a tree behind him, exploding on impact and showering him with burning yellow sparkles.

Tango’s muscles seized up. The boom from the rocket still echoed in his ears. He was breathing hard again, and his sword was loose in his grip.

Grian’s eyes locked onto Tango and a hungry smile passed across his face. He dove towards Tango, eager to take him out of the game for good. Jimmy followed Grian, launching himself through the air and just managing to block Grian’s strike before it hit Tango. He hit the ground hard, open and vulnerable, almost ready for a final blow to finish him off.

Tango’s eyes shot to Grian as he pushed himself forward and thrust his sword forward into Grian’s chest. Lightning seared through the air right in front of him, burning a mark in the grass.

Grian was slain by TangoTek

GoodTimeWithScar died

Jimmy still lay on the ground, breathless. A smile was creeping across his face as he stood, slowly but surely. Tango had stumbled over to the tree that remained on their property and was leaning against it before he sunk down to the ground. His hand was on his stomach, clutching it. It took Jimmy a few seconds to realize that something was wrong, though.

“We actually did it,” he laughed, the quarrels of their past forgotten. “We- Tango?”

Jimmy moved closer to the other, kneeling down in front of him. He dropped his sword next to him and leaned forward to inspect the wound.

Tango’s blood was flowing out onto his hands, which were wrapped around a small dagger embedded in his stomach.

“No,” he whispered, staring at the blood coated blade. Then he looked back at his soulmate. “Hey, we did it. We made it. We can die now, it’s okay,” he promised.

Jimmy reached up to Tango’s shoulders, his hands resting there for a second. The sculk still covered his cheeks. Jimmy cupped Tango’s face in his hands, then brushed some of the particles off.

Darkness flooded Tango’s eyes and a ripple of bright aqua pulsed through them, flowing out from the center like a bullseye. Jimmy flinched back, snatching up his sword and holding it at the ready, even though there was no intention behind it. He backed further away as the shadows seemed to leak into Tango’s blood, the red covering his stomach turning a deep, star-speckled turquoise. The substance seemed to eat away at his blood and flesh, transforming it into something new.

Tango seemed frozen in place for a second, his muscles clenched like he was trying to restrain himself. Then, unblinking, unflinching, unmoving, Tango pulled the dagger from his stomach with a squelch. The blade dripped with sculk instead of the blood that should’ve coated it, forming a small puddle on the ground before he dropped it, uninterested. Tango stood, the sculk now completely coating his hands and stomach, creeping its way up his neck and down his arms. Behind him, the ground where he stood turned almost black as well, like he had coated it with ink, and the pulsing stars were climbing up through the bark of the tree he had been leaning on.

“Tango?” Jimmy called. He got no response, not even a blink or a mere twitch to signal that Tango had heard what he said. “Tango, buddy, are you alright?” He tried again. The tip of his sword was slowly falling from a defensive guard—Jimmy was letting it.

Tango was simply standing in front of him. Around him, pure black night started to fill the air, blocking out the sun.

Jimmy kept backing away, his face filled with concern. After a second’s thought, he tossed his sword and shield away, not wanting to seem like a threat. “Tango?” He repeated, a bit more forcefully this time.

The darkness flashed into full opacity around the pair, enveloping them in a blank void. It held steady, unwilling to let him leave. Jimmy stumbled back, but the blackness was unrelenting.

His mind froze. So much darkness. An inescapable void where he could do nothing but hide in vain as his flesh, and his mind, and the world around him were ripped away into nothingness. Endless seas of sparkling stars blinked at him like glowing eyes in a forever dark forest. They creeped up onto his arms and legs, dragging him down deeper and deeper. It had stolen his voice from his throat, but he wasn't going to use it anyway. The nothingness was all around him, in the distance yet so close, leaving him waiting in the darkness, in the decay, in cold and clammy suspense, in silent, petrifying fear. Alone.

Tango locked eyes with him—or what used to be Tango, with what used to be his eyes. There was nothing there, the space where they were now barely existent. Jimmy’s mind was frozen, by his eyes or his lack thereof he couldn’t tell.

“Tango.” He shouted once again, running out of ideas. His thoughts were racing through his brain but none of them helped, instead just proving to be a distraction. What could he do? How could he help him?

In a last-ditch effort, he darted forward and brushed the fungus on Tango’s arm, hoping that it could change something like earlier, but to no avail. Tango swiped at him, a newly formed claw tearing through Jimmy’s arm. He let out a cry of pain, which only made the sculk light up aqua once more.

Jimmy jumped back clutching his arm, eager to avoid another hit that he knew he couldn’t take, and as he did so, his heel hit something on the ground. He looked to see what it was, quickly realizing that it was the handle to his scythe. He paused, his foot still touching the wood, then looked back at Tango.

There was nothing. Nothing there, nothing to suggest that he was even alive. Tango was gone, he told himself. There was no getting him back. Even through all of their disagreements, Tango would never hurt him, he was sure of it. He was gone for good.

Tango charged forward with a deep, guttural snarl. Jimmy pulled his scythe into the air with the toe of his boot, then grabbed it and swung. Shining violet glinted through the air is the iron of the scythe shot through the air with an almost unnatural efficiency. The blade cut clean through Tango’s neck. One final lightning strike.

TangoTek was slain by SolidarityGaming

#mcythorrorgiftexchange #horror #writing #creative writing #double life #rancher duo #tangotek #jimmy solidarity

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