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blu-joons · 3 years

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You Go Into Labour ~ Lee Taemin

As another twang of pain struck at your stomach, your hand reached out for the first thing you could find in front of you, which was Kibum. His eyes looked around, ready to scold a fan for grabbing onto him as you walked through the city, only to notice it was you.

His eyes studied you closely, however it was when he saw the pain in your expression, did he begin to worry. He called out to Taemin who was walking a few paces ahead of you to turn back around.

“Everything alright?” He asked, only when he got closer towards you, he realised that things were far from alright. “Are you having the baby? You can’t, it’s too early yet for her to arrive.”

Your head shook, feeling the crowd of fans begin to gather around the two of you as flashes from phone cameras went off in all directions. “I don’t know, but I can feel something.”

Taemin’s eyes instantly looked around at the fans, there didn’t seem to be a way out for the five of you as Jinki and Minho tried to clear a bit of space for you, but none of the fans wanted to move in case they missed out on capturing the important moment.

You felt Taemin’s arm wrap around your waist to try and support you as best as he could, staring helplessly at his three other members as he tried to figure out what to do. His heart was pounding, knowing that every part of you was relying on him.

“We need to get out of here,” he announced, looking around the city.

All of their heads nodded in agreement, although the last thing they wanted to do was get physical with the fans, with each passing moment, your privacy was invaded more and more. With that, your breaths became shorter which worried the boys significantly more.

“It’s alright,” Taemin whispered when he noticed your eyes widen, “we’ll get out of here and get to the hospital as soon as we can, I promise you.”

Your head nodded, too distracted by the sensation that continued to strike at your stomach to care too much about what was going on around. However, for the rest of the boys it was all they could think about as the tried to keep you as safe as possible.

“Can you guys please just step back,” Jinki announced, trying to create a bit of distance between you and the fans that were around you.

“The last thing she needs is you guys around her,” Minho added, “if you care for us, then move.”

A few fans stepped back, but some still remained, far too intrigued to see what would happen with you. Whilst Jinki and Minho tried to control the fans, Kibum was on the phone with a manager requesting a car to come by.

“They said one will be here in five,” he told you all as soon as he hung up the call, trying to encourage you to walk closer to the end of the road so that you could get straight in. “We’re just going to have to push if they don’t move, Y/N’s too important right now.”

Your eyes flickered around as Minho appeared at your other side to try and move you to where you could get into the car. “This is too much,” you whispered.

It was far from the ideal situation for you as you planned to go into labour, you still had a week to go before your due date, convinced that you’d be able to head out with the boys on their day off before you needed to take a moment to rest.

Taemin leaned across and pressed a kiss against the side of your head, “I know it’s a little scary right now, but you’ll be alright,” he smiled, turning his body inwards to shield you from the fans who continued to try and get a photo of you. “I’ve never hated saesangs more than I have right now, this is just ridiculous.”

Minho nodded from the other side of him, “I’ve never seen anything like it, poor Y/N doesn’t deserve this, she’s not the one that all of them are out to see.”

“I’m the one that’s given them something to shout about though,” you frowned, trying to shut out the shouts of your name that came from the fans around you. “I can already imagine the headlines over this, I think I’ve said goodbye to having a quiet birthing announcement.”

“None of that matters now,” Jinki comforted from in front of you, making sure that the boys were stood around you to keep you safe from all directions. “You’re safe, and you’re going to have a baby, don’t worry about all of the small stuff right now.”

Your head nodded, smiling softly in his direction. If there was one thing you were thankful for, it was Jinki’s leadership. Whilst you weren’t a member of the group, you were as good as, and each of the members treated you just the same.

Your eyes looked up with each car that passed, praying that the manager would show quickly to try and give you some rest bite from standing through the pain. “How long is it to the hospital?” You asked Taemin, soon feeling your own worry begin to set in.

“Not long, I’ll make sure that he puts his foot down and gets you there as soon as possible.”

Just as Taemin finished speaking, a black car pulled up with the windows tinted. Kibum stepped forwards straight away and opened up the door so that Minho and Taemin could help you into the car whilst Jinki continued to keep the fans at a distance from you.

“Y/N, you’ll do incredibly,” Minho smiled once you were in, closing the door beside you.

“He’s right,” Taemin chimed as he appeared beside you, buckling up his seatbelt before offering his hand out for you to take a hold of. “I’m sorry that things didn’t quite go as we planned for today, or any of this. You never deserve to get caught in the crossfire of our fans; I don’t even have the words right now for that.”

“It’s alright,” you smiled, resting your hand over your tummy, “I’m used to how crazy some of the fans can be, but Jinki was right. I’m safe, and that’s all that matters, not any of the chaos that went on out there.”

His smile grew as he studied you closely to make sure that you were alright, stretching out his hand to rest over yours that was on your bump. Despite how big your bump had become, all of it still felt like a dream to Taemin.

You watched on as his head shook in a slight moment of disbelief as the reality of what was to come back to hit him, and slightly terrify him.

“Can you believe that in a matter of hours now we’re going to be parents?” He asked you, only for your head to shake back at him. “I’m under strict instructions from the boys too to let them know as soon as the baby arrives.”

Your eyes rolled, but it was typical of the three of them to try and be involved in every minute. It had been that way throughout your pregnancy, you barely ever got a moment to yourself as one of them was always by your side. If you thought Taemin worried, then the trio were frantic when it came to looking after you.

“I expected nothing less,” you responded, glancing out of the window as you began to recognise the direction that you were travelling, “we’re never going to go home again as just the two of us, now it’s the three of us.”

“Doesn’t it feel strange?” Taemin mused, glancing out of the window himself, “we really are about to become a family of three.”

“Don’t let the boys hear you say that,” you chuckled, as yet another twang of pain hit you.

“As far as they’re concerned, SHINee will definitely now be a family of seven.”

---

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elizabeethan · 3 years

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Watch the Sunlight Fade: 8 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: Things might be starting to come together this week! Let me know your predictions.

This chapter talks extremely briefly and ambiguously of Emma not exactly wanting to have sex with Neal. Also, there is a discussion of Killian’s semi-violent past. Nothing is detailed, but let me know if you need more information or anything!!

Rated M

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~~~~

The days turn into weeks, although Emma can’t help but feel as though time is dragging her along mercilessly. Nothing has changed since she found out about Neal, how he’s the brother of the leader of The Lost Boys. Nothing, aside from her feelings of safety and security, of confidence in her relationship, being completely shattered.

Every night, she fights off the desperation to walk across the hall and join Killian in his bed, letting his strong arms consume her and blanket her with a sense of ease and contentment. Every night, she fights with herself as she crawls into bed with Neal, a man she thought she loved, and forces herself to put on an act of affection towards him. She forces herself to lie back and accept his convoluted attempts at showing her that he loves her, knowing that he couldn’t possibly. If he loved her, he would never have lied to her. If he loves her, he would let her go.

She also fights with herself through the anger she feels, directed inward rather than at anyone else. Sure, she’s mad at Neal for what he’s done, what he’s putting her through, but at the end of the day, she’s the fool to let herself be put in this position. It’s her fault. She should have seen through his lies from the moment she met him, but she was too desperate for love and family and acceptance. He knew that, too, and he exploited her weaknesses like she meant nothing to him.

It drives her mad to not know what he’s after. She’s hardly the most skilled person at finding people who don’t want to be found, so why he feels the need to target her specifically, she can’t say. It could be argued that, in some perplexing, psychotic way, he thinks he loves her, but she knows now that this isn’t love. It can’t be.

Lying at his side, wide awake through her inability to sleep, she can’t seem to shut her mind off. Each time she closes her eyes, she feels terror at the memories burned behind her lids. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Neal on top of her, despite her resolve to squeeze her eyes shut each time he decides he wants to be with her. Usually, she’s able to go to another place, letting thoughts of the beach or her happy future serve as a distraction of her fear, but sometimes she can’t ignore the feeling of his rough fingertips burning her skin.

Sometimes, when she’s in Neal’s arms and struggling to get past the feelings that come along with being with him, she thinks of Killian. Not necessarily in a way of longing for him-- not because she wishes she was with him instead, although she can only assume it would be more pleasurable-- but because of the comfort that he always brings her. Being with him is like being embraced by warmth and safety itself. It’s like the rest of the world turns off, and all that’s on her mind is the soothing way his arms wrap around her and the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her cheek. She doesn’t have to worry when she’s with him. She only has to think about how good it feels to be in his arms.

And she’s noticed his physique, too. It would be difficult not to. She noticed that first night, when he lifted his sweatshirt off and pulled his t-shirt up with it. She noticed the other day when he visited her in her cave of an office, leaning his shoulder against the door frame with his arms crossed, muscles bulging out of his sleeves and a tempting smirk coloring his lips as he teased her over the dinosaur of a computer she was working on. She notices the way he looks with almost everything he does, and she knows it's a dangerous game that she’s playing.

It’s not like she never found Neal attractive. But knowing what she knows now, she can’t help but to feel slightly nauseated every time she sees his face. She’s got to get out of this.

~~~~

“Since you did such a good job with the last one, I have another little task for you,” Peter says, his voice teasing and his smirk unsettling.

Emma works hard to maintain her composure as she sits straight up in her seat, one she was finally awarded after weeks of standing awkwardly before the group sat at the table. Today, when she walked into the daunting conference room, Peter invited her to sit beside him, beside Neal, and has been leaning towards her in a way that she knows is meant to appear polite, but holds a threatening undertone.

“Okay,” she agrees, trying to make her voice sound confident and fighting off the fear that never seems to go away.

He turns from her to Neal and remarks, “she really has begun to come into her own, hasn’t she?”

“I guess,” he shrugs, and a part of her feels offended at his nonchalance. Despite her strong desire to be anywhere but here, she thinks she’s done a pretty nice job of trying to fit in. Ever since Gold spilled the beans a few weeks ago about Neal’s status in the club, she’s held it together fairly well on the outside, with the exception of her initial breakdown.

There’s only one person she truly feels comfortable breaking down in front of. Only one person who she really trusts.

She hasn’t told Neal that she's found out his true identity. She and Killian have talked about it at length, sometimes able to spend time alone together especially when Neal leaves, and they’ve agreed that it’s for the best to keep her discovery under wraps. Gold’s subtle drop that Neal is his son and brother to Peter was purposeful, and she can’t let him come out on top. She knows, she’s terrified, but she’ll maintain her composure. For whatever reason, Neal doesn’t want her to know, so she’ll keep playing dumb.

“Who do you want me to find?” she asks, wanting nothing more than to prevent Neal from saying anything else casually offensive. His small digs at her serve a purpose, she now knows; to bring her down as far and as quietly as he can.

“This one may be a bit more of a challenge; a member from a rival gang. While Graham was more of a nomad, this man has ties to the Kings of Elsinore and is better protected. I want you to find out everything you can on him.”

“Okay,” she nods assuredly. “Well, I'll take whatever you have on him and get to work, then.”

Before she can move from her seat, Peter’s hand is on her wrist, oppressively holding her still. “Not so fast. There’s someone I’d like you to officially meet. Call in Hook.”

A man Neal knows, Walsh, she thinks, stands from his chair and walks towards the door, summoning someone inside. She has to stop her jaw from hitting the floor when she sees who.

“You two seem to have met casually, but I’d like you to officially meet Killian Jones. He’s gotten himself into a touch of trouble and, as punishment, will be helping you with whatever you need until this man is located.”

She gulps, anxiety setting in again despite how hard she’s been trying to keep it at bay. She promised herself she would be strong, refusing to let them get to her, to let them see her squirm. She will keep her promise to herself. “Okay,” she murmurs, forcing herself to peel her gaze from Killian’s. She can’t help but wonder what he’s done to get into trouble with Peter. She selfishly hopes they weren’t caught without her knowledge.

~~~~

“What happened?” she begs desperately once the door to her small office is shut, Killian ushering her into the room before practically slamming it. “What are you in trouble for? Killian, please tell me they don’t--”

“Nothing like that,” he hisses, stepping towards her. With a soft, gentle voice only just above a whisper, he says, “love, you have to stay calm. You did phenomenally pretending we don’t know each other well, but we have to keep up the ruse.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I know, I just… what happened?”

“Nothing, love, I promise. I only refused to go on a trip with them last week and Peter feared I wasn’t dedicated to the club’s cause.”

“You did?” she asks in surprise. When Neal told her that he wasn’t dedicated, she forced herself to believe him. When Killian says it, she doesn't even consider doubting him.

“Aye. Told them I had pressing matters to attend to.”

She cocks her head suspiciously and asks, “what were the pressing matters?”

“The Mummy Returns was on TV, remember? We watched it together.”

She can’t help the smile that breaks across her face, a snort escaping her throat despite her best efforts as she shakes her head and feels a blush creeping up her neck and pinkening her cheeks. “You’re dumb,” she says, and she feels like a child in a playground with a school crush.

“Well,” he shrugs, giving her a beaming smile. “Here, love. I’ve got the information we have so far. Time to start digging.”

A part of her almost wants to take her time, content to sit in the small office with Killian sitting beside her for quite some time. No one would suspect a thing, what with Peter already telling her that this guy would be harder to find; it’s the perfect excuse to soak in all of the comfort and happiness that Killian brings her despite her circumstances. But she knows they have to keep up appearances so as to avoid being caught in their elicit friendship, so she’ll work at a normal pace and hope no one notices that her smile is genuine rather than the forced one she gives Neal.

James Spencer is certainly a hard man to find. If she didn’t already know that he was linked to the Kings of Elsinore, she would be lost, as the man seems entirely enigmatic in nature. He seems like a ghost, her research pointing her absolutely nowhere, but Peter insists that he’s got ties to this rival club, despite her finding no evidence to support his claim.

She groans after a few hours, dropping her head to the desk as Killian continues to bounce a tennis ball off the wall in his boredom. It certainly is a punishment for him; the fact that he has to sit here and watch her find nothing is likely eating him alive. “It’s only been a few hours, love, you’ll find something soon,” he tries to console. Her frustration wins out, though.

“This is stupid.”

“Aye.”

“Are all of these stupid gangs this hard to navigate around?”

“Aye, I'd assume so. Although, I've never been a bounty hunter.”

She rolls her eyes, picking her head up and glaring. “I wasn’t a bounty hunter. I was a bail bondsperson.”

“That’s different?”

She holds her hands out, requesting the ball from him and catching it when he tosses it, only to throw it back at him with too much aggression. He yelps and laughs at her too loudly, and she can’t help but smile in response. She settles back into her chair after the short reprieve and sighs.

“How can I find someone who doesn’t want to be found if I know absolutely nothing about the environment he lives in?”

He hums in agreement, nodding and remarking, “you need an inside man.”

“No, I just need to know how a fucking motorcycle gang works,” she grumbles. It’s been a confusing few weeks, and she realizes that, while she’s gotten a few small bits of information, she still has no idea what the club’s actual purpose is. “Like… why even bother having one?”

He gives her a soft smile, standing from his chair and dragging it closer to her. “Are you sure that’s what this is about?”

“What?” she asks indignantly, giving him a look that she seriously hopes conveys how annoyed she is.

“Your little tantrum, love,” he teases. “Is it really about not knowing enough about how gangs work? Or is it, perhaps, more about your need to know everything about a situation in order to convince yourself that you’re safe?”

With another glare shot his way, she drops her jaw in surprise and shakes her head. “What the hell do you know?”

He smirks. “I know a lot more than you think. You’re a bit of an open book, love. And I’ve known you long enough now.”

“To what, psychoanalyze me?”

“I may have considered studying psychology, had I gone to university,” he laughs. “I know you’re scared, and I'm beginning to realize that not knowing what’s going to happen, or what’s happening without you knowing, is probably feeding that fear.”

With another heaving sigh, she drops her head back down, resting it on her arms and nodding. “You’re right,” she concedes, although part of her wishes he wasn’t. It’s true, though, being so in the dark about everything is making her feel weak.

His hand lands on her shoulder, staying there for a moment before he gently and slowly scratches his fingertips against her skin and pulls away. “I can tell you what I know, if that’ll help.”

She perks up, lifting her head and recalling a conversation from weeks ago in which he told her that his brother was an influential member of the club. “Yes,” she says, and why she didn’t think to ask earlier, she doesn’t know.

He gives her a nod and another one of his encouraging smiles, the one that always makes her heart skip a beat, and clears his throat. “What I know is that Neal is older, but Peter is in charge. From what I gather, and I was never privy to much, Neal went off on his own for a while and Peter took over everything. Gold’s always seemed a bit more… hesitant around Peter, but I almost suspect that he favors Neal. Either way, Peter was running things behind the scenes for quite some time before Neal left. When he came back, it was with you on his arm and with Peter happily leading, refusing to give up his spot. No one argued with him.”

She nods, but it doesn’t tell her much. She’s always known that Neal is more of a follower, happy to do whatever he can to impress his friends. The fact that he willingly gave up what seems to be his birthright doesn’t really surprise her.

“So what are they doing when they go away on their trips?”

“Usually seeking out merchandise. They deal in stolen goods, mostly watches and the like. Typically, a trip is a heist of some kind. A jewelry store, antique shop… sometimes even banks with safe deposit boxes.”

Emma looks down to her own wrist, Killian’s gaze following closely behind, and notes the watch she wears. The one that Neal gave her after one of his trips. She shudders and moves to take it off.

His hand stops her, looking into her eyes deeply and shaking his head. “Keep it,” he murmurs. “We can’t let them know that you know any of this.”

“Why?” she asks in a whisper. “Why is it so bad if I know?”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head again. “But if Neal hasn’t told you, there’s a reason for it.”

She nods in understanding, letting her heart rate slow as his hand remains on her wrist, moving down to the top of her hand. She wants to wrap her fingers around his, but she knows she shouldn’t. “Can I ask something about you?”

“Of course.”

“Why do they call you Hook?”

His eyes drop from hers, glancing down at their joined hands, and she watches his brows knit together tightly. She feels his grip on her hand tighten, and despite both of them knowing it’s a bad idea, his fingers weave with hers and he squeezes her hand. She squeezes back.

“There are things about my past that… that when I think about telling you, I become…” he sighs, unable to finish his thought.

“Killian,” she whispers, “I already know you’re in a gang. Can it really be that bad?”

“Aye,” he answers immediately, his eyes meeting her own in a desperate attempt to convey to her something she can’t quite read. “I’m not… a good man.”

“Of course you are.”

“No. Maybe I’ve never thrown knives at a woman I’m supposed to love, but I’ve certainly… I mean…”

“Killian.” Her grip on his hand, the one she should release, tightens. “Whatever happened… you’re not that person. You’re good. I know bad people and I pegged you as good the second I saw you.”

It’s as if he can’t meet her gaze, too ashamed of whatever it is that he’s done. Too fearful of what will happen if she finds out. He witnessed her finding out that Neal has been lying to her, and she wonders if he fears a similar response now.

“I don’t-- it’s silly,” he laughs. “I just… I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You can’t,” she whispers. After everything he’s done for her, everything he plans to do for her, he could never disappoint her.

He sighs, squeezing her hand once more before turning it over in his and drawing a line across her palm. “I was a-- an angry lad growing up. My father abandoned us, my mother died. I found myself seeking release. Ways to get my anger out. I was never taught anything productive.”

She stays quiet, letting him open up to her on his own terms and distract himself by tracing the lines in her palms. “I came here at fifteen. Gold recruited me for… well, to put my anger to good use, in his eyes. He used me-- he’s always been good at picking out someone’s weakness and exploiting it. Whenever he needed information out of someone, he would bring me along and I would…” he sighs again, taking a deep and grounding breath. “I had a favorite weapon,” he mumbles.

With a nod, she tries to stay calm, tries not to let fear overtake her. She was fearful of Neal when he held the knives and smirked at her, and of Peter when he pressed the tip of the blade to his finger and smiled. But when she presses her hand to Killian’s cheek and makes him look up at her, she feels no fear. She sees only truth and regret and a longing to be a different person.

“It was a hook?” she asks for clarification, but she can see the answer in his eyes.

“From Gold’s boat,” he croaks. “That’s usually where we would take… the people we were interrogating. But, Emma, it’s been years. Liam found out and put an end to it. I think that’s--”

“What?” she asks gently as he cuts himself off, shaking his head painfully.

“I think that’s when things started going poorly for him.”

He’s done so much for her. He’s soothed every ounce of pain she’s felt since she got here, since Neal sliced her cheek and he touched it tenderly. He held her together as she cried harder than she ever had before. He’s vowed to see her out of this danger despite the predicament it puts him in. And still, she feels powerless to help him. He’s sitting before her, broken and in anguish, and she can’t heal him like he has her.

All she can do is take his cheeks in her hands and promise him, “that was not your fault.”

“Emma,” he breathes, his eyes pleading with her, for what, she isn’t sure. “He… he kept insisting I stay out of it. He kept holding me back, refusing to let me go, putting up a fight… I think they got tired of it, eventually. Of someone constantly questioning them and going against their word. He’d still be here if I hadn’t--”

“No. You had no hand in what happened to Liam. And when this is all over, you’re gonna be able to leave too.”

It’s bold of her to assume that it’s something he wants. He’s told her plenty of times that he wants to help her escape, but he’s never mentioned a desire to leave himself. It’s bold of her to assume that that’s in his best interest. But when she looks at the sadness and regret in his eyes, a part of her knows that it must be.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a moment of silence, and she lets him cast his gaze downwards again. “I should have--”

“It’s okay, Killian. The things you’ve done in the past don’t reflect who you are now.”

“Of course they do,” he nearly spits, clearly angry with himself as he pulls away and throws his head back. “I was a monster then. How can you not think of me as a monster now? I’m no better than Neal or Peter.”

“Don’t say that. Peter would probably do something like that now if he wanted to. Would you?” She lets her voice rise just the slightest amount, feeling more intensity than before and finding it necessary to convey to him that she doesn’t see him as a monster.

“Of course not.”

“And Neal… don’t even get me started. He nearly pulled his gun on me last week because I asked him where he was going. Would you do that?”

“Emma,” he says softly, finally looking at her once more, and she knows what he’s thinking. She knows he wants her out of his apartment; out of his life.

“You’re not a bad person,” she whispers, leaning closer to him just as he sits forward again, and they’re so close that she can feel his breath warming her nose. “I know bad people. You don’t qualify.”

He nods, his eyes deep and soulful as they bore into hers, and says, “I want to be a good person for you.”

No one has ever spoken to her like this. No one has ever expressed such a definitive desire to be worthy of her. No one has ever been so close to her and not made her instinctively want to pull away. And when she sees his eyes fluttering shut, his lashes touching his cheeks and casting long shadows in the dingy light, she wants to lean closer.

She almost does, too, is tempted to close her eyes like he has and touch her lips to his, but there's a swift knock on the door and they spring apart so quickly that she kicks his shin, causing him to bend and silently groan. She cringes in apology as she jiggles the mouse to her computer, begging it to wake up before the knocker enters the room.

“Any luck?” Gold asks as he pokes his head in.

“None so far,” Killian answers easily, his persona shifting effortlessly and maintaining their cover. “Swan’s searching high and low, but we don’t know much about Spencer’s tactics yet.”

“And Hook’s been a help to you, Miss Swan?”

“Yes,” she smiles, fighting the urge to lunge out of her chair and wring his neck for the name he’s given Killian and his insistence to still use it despite his obvious discomfort.

“It’s clear already that you have the club’s future in mind; I'm sure you’ll find something soon enough.”

She nods, staring as he walks away and cocking her head in confusion. “So weird,” she says softly once he’s gone, trying to remain quiet as he’d left the door ajar.

“What?”

“That’s the second time he’s mentioned the club’s future, specifically. What does me finding this James Spencer have to do with the future of the club?”

His response is a shake of his head, a slight roll to his eyes before he stills suddenly. His eyes widen as he looks down, then his brows knit together in thought, and she can clearly see the cogs turning in his mind. It’s like she’s watching him have an epiphany in real time. He looks up at her once, urgently, then he snaps out of it as if he’s remembering where he is, his demeanor shifting entirely as he smiles. “I’m not sure. The old man never makes any sense.”

“Killian…?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, love. We’ll just keep working on finding Spencer, alright? There’s no need to worry.”

For a brief second, she feels distrustful of him. It’s reminiscent of when Neal tells her not to worry about things that she couldn’t possibly understand. It’s like he knows something, but he doesn’t think she's capable of handling the truth of whatever it is. For a brief, fleeting second, she doubts him.

But she can’t let herself think like that. Neal lies to her to protect himself. Killian has been nothing but honest with her, wanting nothing but her safety. Truthfully, if whatever he’s discovered is bad enough that he doesn’t want to tell her about it, she isn’t sure she wants to know.

~~~~

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#Watch the Sunlight Fade #Captain swan fanfic #cs ff #sunlight ff #captain swan angst #captain swan fluff #emotional hurt/comfort #tw

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novantinuum · 3 years

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Hi, I was just wondering if you had ever thought about what would have happened in your story "Hollowed Moon" if you had continued it. I always thought it was such an interesting setup that could have gone in so many different directions. And there really aren't other stories focusing on Stevonnie and Spinel, so it was unique!

Hiya!

So, I do have some half-written, half-plotted out material to share. I gave this story some consideration the other day, and came to the decision that I don't have the desire to finish it out, alas- I have far too many other active WIPs to add it to the list. There's a few good reasons why I discontinued it, anyways... intimidation over the huge surge of attention it was getting back in 2019, some rude comments from overzealous Spinel fans, (I know everyone isn't like this, but a certain segment of the Spinel side of the SU fandom kinda burned me over time, hhh), and a future chapter containing a sensitive topic that I wasn't in a good headspace to write about at the time.

But! Anyways! Below the cut is all the existing material I have for Hollowed Moon past chapter 14, consisting of a mixture of descriptions, sketchy dialogue, and prose. It honestly feels nice to finally be able to put this story to an official rest.

Chapter 15

“I... I saw her.”

“Who-?”

“I saw Pink Diamond. I saw you, in this exact garden, in a dream. I- it was like I was experiencing everything through her. She explained your game, tapped your nose and told you to smile, then warped away—“

“That’s it, that’s what happened, almost exactly! But how could you even know that, I never—“

“I don’t know,” they blurt out. “I have empathic abilities, and sometimes that makes dreaming a little weird, but I have no idea how or why I saw any of this.”

[Pause for Stevonnie to think]

“Spinel, I’m so, so sorry,” they whisper brokenly. “But I think... she left you here.”

“What...?”

“She said she’d return, but before she warped away she whispered goodbye, like she didn’t actually intend to make good on that promise. She was lying to you,” they choke out, voice thick.

“No. No,” she says in clear denial, “no she’s not. She can’t be! She told me she’d come back! I can wait! I just have to wait—“

“But she’s not! She... she can’t, because Pink Diamond is gone. She- she was shattered, Spinel. Five thousand years ago, on the Earth. I- I should’ve told you this from the beginning, and I didn’t, and I- I’m so, so sorry—! But she left you behind, and now she’s never coming back.”

[Silence. Tears brim in Spinel’s eyes. Her eyes grow dark, pained, and then she glares at Stevonnie with such venom it almost knocks them backwards in alarm. ]

“NO!” she screams, tears streaming down her faded pink cheeks.

[She tears her feet up from the roots and runs away, using her arms like an orangutan to vault herself forward super fast so Stevonnie can’t catch her.]

___

Chapter 16

AN: Content warning for self-shattering attempt. Part of the reason why I had to stop writing this story at the time. I considered pushing the plot another way, but it didn't feel authentic to how I believed this scenario would play out for Spinel when she didn't have a direct target for her anger. Without someone to actively be jealous and upset AT, I could only imagine her breaking inwards instead of outwards, feeling that she's utterly failed in her life's purpose. Nothing more than a description for this chapter... and it'd be a short one.

[When Stevonnie finds her, she’s smashing her fists against her gem in her sheer anguish. She’s already cracked it. She’s glitching. It looks terribly painful. She’s about to strike her gem again when Stevonnie intervenes.]

___

Chapter 17

[Post timely intervention. Spinel is still cracked at this moment, though... her form glitching as she cries.]

“I was... her best friend,” she cries, fat, glistening tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was supposed to make her happy! Why wasn’t she happy? Why didn’t she come back?“

[Spinel reasoning that maybe if Pink came back for her, she wouldn’t have been shattered in the first place]

“What did I do wrong?” she whispers hoarsely, gazing pleadingly into Stevonnie’s eyes. “Wha- what am I doing? Why do I wanna hurt myself so badly?”

“Shh, now,” they reply, tears of their own brimming at the crease of their eyes, and pull Spinel’s head to their chest. “I’ve got you...”

___

Chapter 18

They know their throat is tight, and their voice scratchy. They know they’ve never sung this song in front of another living being, since it’s something personal they composed alone on one of their late nights back on Earth, thinking about all the difficult days Steven and Connie have had to face over the months. Pair this with their active crying, and there’s no way their singing will be anything pretty.

But pretty doesn’t matter right now.

Stevonnie opens their lips, and— clutching the broken hearted Gem close, rhythmically rocking with her back and forth— lets the wandering melody emerge from within.

“I guess I have to face That in this awful place I shouldn’t show a trace Of doubt...”

“But pulled against the grain I feel a little pain That I would rather do Without...”

“I’d rather be Free, free Free...”

[Hoarse, Spinel starts singing with them.]

“I’d rather be Free, free Free...”

“Free, free Free...”

“From here...”

[Stevonnie holds her tight while crying, their tears healing it back up.]

___

Chapter 19

AN: Don't have anything but a single bit of dialogue in this chapter note- I'm assuming I intended it as being a good few hours after the events of chapters 16-18... when Spinel has calmed down a little and has a moment to reflect on the upsetting news she's just received.

“I think... I always knew,” she says, voice hoarse. “In a way. It was so obvious how she felt about me.

___

Chapter ?

AN: From here on out, the plot hasn't been split into individual chapters.

[At some point shortly after chapter 19, Lars and his crew locate Stevonnie in the garden, and pick them and Spinel up. The next few bits of dialogue and description takes place on the ship.]

Rutile twins: “I haven’t heard of Spinels being produced in over five millennia.” “Me neither!”

Rhodonite: “Yeah, I heard they stopped making them entirely after the rebellion on Pink’s colony.”

[A bit of overwhelming conversation later, no one really noticing Spinel's conflicted emotional response to so many Gems hovering around her at once.]

Padparadscha: “I predict that you’re both going to make Spinel feel very uncomfortable aboard this ship.”

Rhodonite: “I’m sorry, we don’t exactly meet new Gems every century.”

Rutile twins: “Yes!” “It’s just been us until we met our captain!”

Fluorite: “Our new huuuuman friend helped us escape the tunnels on Homeworld. Now... we’re slooowly making our way back... to Earth.”

Spinel: “Earth?? You’re going to Pink’s world? But why? I heard she... was shattered.”

___

[Spinel feeling a sense of kinship with the idea that there’s other Gems who didn’t serve their rightful purpose and are now escaping their life on Homeworld to be free of that. Because now, without her Diamond, since she was unable to keep her happy, she’s an Off Color too. She failed her given purpose same as them.]

[Discussion of Earth, and the rebellion, and how there’s Gems living free there. And how Pink’s colony was siphoning life away, and that’s what these Gems were fighting to protect. Stevonnie points out all the plants and wildlife that used to live in the garden, and asks her if she felt happier when it was around. Spinel says yes. Stevonnie says that this is what the Diamonds are destroying, with each lifeless colony they forge. Everywhere they go, dead wildlife lies in their wake.]

Spinel: “I... guess I never thought of it that way.”

[(Stevonnie adds...) And while they’re very sorry for the personal connection there, and can’t imagine how painful that must be, that’s why Pink Diamond was shattered.]

[Spinel is given an open choice... Lars gives the invitation to stay with him and the Off Colors, and Stevonnie offers for her to come with them back to Earth. It's not a hard decision for her in the end, though. She's always dreamed of seeing what was once Pink’s planet, ever since she heard the Diamonds bequeath it to her.]

___

Stevonnie: “Okay, so… before we go, I need to be honest with you about something." [deep breath] "I’m actually a fusion of two separate people who are close friends. You... know what fusion is, right?”

Spinel: “Duh, o’course! What, d’ya think I was made yesterday?”

[...]

Stevonnie: “But even with that, I can’t be together as me all the time. Steven and Connie, the two who come together to form me... they love hanging out with each other so much, but they also have their own lives! Other friends, other hobbies, their own families. They still talk when they’re apart, but they know it’s okay to do things alone, too. Do you know why I’m telling you this?”

Spinel: [shakes head no] “No...?”

Stevonnie: [sighs] “I understand you’ve been left behind. Believe me, I know how bad that feels. So the last thing I wanna do is make you think I’m doing that too.”

Spinel: “Y-you— you’re going away?” Stevonnie: “Unfusing, yes.” Spinel: “But Stevonnie, you—“ Stevonnie: “Spinel. No matter what, you are my friend. Steven and Connie consider you a friend, too. And my hope is that you’ll keep making a whole bunch more on Earth, so you’ll always have people around who know and love you. But that can’t always be me, okay?“

___

[At home... on Earth. There's a bit of a close call for Pearl when Spinel arrives, and recognizes her as Pink's second pearl. This is news for Garnet and Amethyst and Steven, the first of which had somewhat suspected that Pearl used to be in the diamonds' service, but never knew for sure. Pearl, of course... can't say much on this due to her gag order... not that anyone else knows about that yet... but does manage a very concise and PD=RQ free explanation about her past in Pink's court, and her transition towards being a Crystal Gem:]

Pearl: “Rose Quartz set me free, and I’ve been a part of the rebellion ever since.”

___

[At some point between the last scene and the next, mention how Spinel had a bit of a relapse... she ended up poofing herself, and reformed differently. A little bit closer to the smudged mascara and frayed pigtails look of canon, but no rotated heart. Unlike in canon, she has a solid support system amongst the Crystal Gems, and she's working hard to recover from the heartbreak of Pink's abandonment.]

___

[Final scene is set post A Single Pale Rose. Steven and Connie fuse, and Stevonnie goes to find Spinel to check in on how she's taking the news. The final line of the fic is as follows:]

Spinel: “I know you’re not her, not really. And I know you’ll always be a better person than she ever was. But in some silly cyclical way... back in that garden... it’s almost like Pink came back for me after all.”

#su #spinel #stevonnie #su fanfiction #my fic stuff #hollowed moon #this isn't REALLY 'my fic stuff' since it's unwritten but #i think it deserves to be here. this is the full unfinished plot of a fic that got the most exposure of anything i've ever shared in fandom

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rai-jin-andro-jin · 3 years

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Intimacy: An Aromantic, Queer, Storyteller's Perspective on Raya and Namaari's Relationship in RatLD

Ok, I know people have lots of opinions about Raya and the Last Dragon. (Please go watch it if you're able to, it's fantastic.) I'm not here to step on any toes, nor am I here to deny that Disney has work to do on openly queer representation. But I wanted to give my opinion on the subject because I've already seen some thoughts flying, and I've got my own too.

Note: potential Raya and the Last Dragon spoilers ahead!

Now, I'm here for queer women. (I'm so here for queer women that I'm queer for them.) I love Raya's depth, design, and arc. I love Namaari's depth, design, and arc (and oh my god, her face shape). I love the way the narrative treated these warriors: like warriors! I could talk all day about how this movie is such a brilliant step toward treating women as people on screen.

But I'm here to talk about the queer aspects.

Any queer person watching that movie saw a couple of baby gays. Anyone saw the tension between Raya and Namaari as adults, their distrust for one another, but also their recollection of how close they once were, how close they could have been, how similar they actually are, but they both don't want to admit it for one reason or another. I think that tension is done beautifully.

I also want to take a second to remind everyone that romantic attraction is not necessary to make something queer.

Sure, maybe you could view their interactions as having romantic undertones. I don't think that's necessarily wrong, but I also don't think that the movie needed a romantic subplot to work. The subplot was platonic, even queerplatonic. The subplot was about Raya learning to realize how similar Namaari was to her, in all the uncomfortable ways Raya wasn't ready to admit. Raya wanted to remain focused inward; she wanted to protect her goal from destruction, she wanted to bring her Ba back. And she didn't want to trust anyone again. She didn't feel like she could, and she didn't want to try, especially not with Namaari.

And yet, during their interactions, there is a sense of intimacy. No doubt, over the six (6) years after the gem broke, Raya and Namaari have run into each other on several occasions. It seems like they still know each other well enough to banter mid battle. Raya knows Namaari well enough to be able to easily "push her buttons" and distract her. There is an intimacy here that strays easily into frienemy territory. It has the potential of being romantic. It also has the potential of not being romantic at all.

And, as someone on the aromantic spectrum, I want to reiterate that romantic queerness is not the only queerness. Aromantic affection, queerplatonic affection, allosexual aromantic affection — all of these are valid and real queer identities and queer expressions.

So, while I agree that "Disney is a coward" and that queer people deserve genuine, wholesome, and healthy representation in movies — I also want to emphasize that you can remove romanticism from the equation and still retain the queer narrative (or, what we the audience read as a queer narrative).

(I personally think there is nothing straight about these two characters, but I also respect the possibility that cultural norms and expectations can change how queerness manifests, or what is even considered queer. I'm a white person from the USA; the way I read or express queerness may not be the same as the way someone of Southeast Asian descent would read or express queerness. That topic in itself is worthy of an entirely different mega post. But that is very important to note.)

Furthermore, I want to add that while, again, seeing Disney explicitly tackle a queer relationship on screen would be so amazing, I also don't think this particular narrative had room for it.

Raya and the Last Dragon has a beautiful story filled with strong cultural tradition and Southeast Asian communal values. Love for one's community and family is especially important, as the writers have expressed, and this value was purposely woven into the narrative as a centerpiece.

Disney has a long history of making that centerpiece romantic love. Movies in general, Disney included, have a very long history of using romantic love as an easy subplot. It is such a common thing to do in the industry.

Stepping away from that norm is a breath of fresh air, in my opinion. And I'm not saying that because I'm aromantic and I "hate romance"—I don't, by the way, and I'll show you why.

I have written romance in fiction for a long-ass time. I love writing it. And in my (self-proclaimed) professional opinion, adding romance into Raya and the Last Dragon would have been really forced. I don't think the movie needed it. It would have been narratively unnecessary, and the catharsis we received regarding the mending of Raya and Namaari's relationship was more than enough. Any romance would have been extra, and, more importantly, would have been distracting from the actual main theme of the movie. Remember, the takeaway from this movie is communal trust: building bridges to unite families and communities of people. This narrative values familial and communal love first and foremost. (This is not to say that romantic love can't intersect with familial, communal, and platonic love, but I'm making the distinction here because the story writers intended to make this distinction, too.) Putting communal love first also does not devalue any romantic or queerplatonic love that might exist under that umbrella — but that's just it; communal love is the focus here, and I'm glad the writers made the decision to keep the focus of the narrative grounded and organized. It keeps the story from wandering off in too many directions and becoming confusing. It keeps us from having too many loose ends. And it keeps the runtime from being too long — or worse, it saves the narrative and all it's subplots from feeling cut short.

And here's where I jump into my main gripe. Yes, Raya and Namaari have chemistry. At the very least, when they met as kids, they formed a nice first bond: they had a lot in common, they related to each other on several things, and they had empathy for each other. That's a good foundation for a lot of things: friendship, queerplatonic relationships, romantic relationships, business partnerships... What I'm saying is, they had a good beginning. But it was just one day. And they were kids.

They were both kids who were vulnerable to the opinions and desires of the adults around them.

Namaari was influenced by her mother to betray Raya in order to gain the Dragon Gem (ultimately to give her people the prosperity they lacked). Before coming to Heart, Namaari likely saw Raya and the people of Heart like her mother/chief did: Heart was rich solely because they hoarded the magic of the Dragon Gem, and they would lie and say the Gem didn't give them prosperity only so they could continue to hoard the gem.

Raya was influenced by people in her village too, though we don't explicitly see those influences. When her father mentions that the other lands are on their way to Heart, Raya immediately believes they are coming with evil intent. When her father asks her what she knows about the other lands, Raya lists qualities about each land that portray them in a dangerous light. She views them explicitly as enemies and outsiders, people to fear and distrust in order to maintain her and Heart's safety and prosperity. Namaari included.

When Raya and Namaari meet, there is a lot going on under the surface of their interaction. Certainly, they are both kids; part of them likely has a natural urge to trust and connect with each other, as they eventually did that day! But clearly, especially for Namaari, there still exists a level of distrust and divide. Perhaps because Raya had the influence of her father, who encouraged her to see the other lands as friends rather than enemies, Raya's guard was lower than Namaari's. It's doubtful Namaari had that kind of influence, as her mother consistently displayed distrust for other lands, and focused more on the protection of Fang's people. Namaari clearly experienced quite a bit of internal conflict during the time before her betrayal of Raya, trying to balance her own desires for connection and friendship with her desire to please and protect Fang. Having a connection with Raya at all, especially a deeper connection (rather than a false pretense of connection), was likely not the intention of this subterfuge plan. Connecting with Raya likely felt good, but it also felt like a betrayal of Fang; a betrayal of Fang felt like a death sentence, especially since not obtaining the Gem would mean that Fang (according to Namaari's mother and the people of Fang) would likely perish. Namaari chose to resolve the conflict by returning to what was most familiar and comfortable: distrusting Heart for the good of Fang. For Namaari, it likely didn't dispel the discomfort of knowing that she betrayed a friend, someone who felt so close and genuine, someone who was just as obsessed with dragons as she was (which seems like it was rare for Namaari, and thus valuable). But her choice to betray Raya did, in Namaari's mind, save Fang, a strong value instilled in her from birth.

The betrayal hurts Raya a lot more openly. She sees Namaari firstly as a potential friend, a connection. Raya was taught by her father to value connection with others more than preemptively distrusting them in order to protect herself. This is likely why we see their interactions mostly from Raya's perspective. Namaari's behavior is very conflicted in intention, bouncing back and forth between deception and genuine connection, and trying to balance those two in a way that remains faithful to Fang and herself. Raya, on the other hand, is fully genuine for this interaction, save for maybe a couple moments of brief, minor hesitation. But, that hesitation is short-lived and the desire for friendship ultimately wins over for Raya. She fully trusts Namaari (to the level that she is able to, given that they just met that day), up to the moment the betrayal occurs. She is blindsided, and in response, she also returns to the comfort of her original views (before her father tried to teach her to trust the other lands). This decision to abandon the friendship is not comfortable at all for Raya; it is forced. She must do it to protect not only her land, but ostensibly the world. She is fighting between protecting her "clan" and protecting outsiders. She is struggling to view other lands as part of her clan/community, and Namaari's betrayal only solidifies Raya's eventual choice to mistrust others completely. Once her father dies, so does Raya's trust. To her, (misplaced) trust caused the downfall of the world, and more importantly, the death of her Ba. And to her, that betrayal is embodied and personified by Namaari. Namaari becomes a scapegoat and a punching bag for all that went wrong with the world, and this is a consistent mindset Raya has throughout the movie, until it is openly challenged by Namaari during the climax. Raya is comfortable in an "us versus them" mindset; it rids her of blame and responsibility for her actions, her role in problems. She, like Namaari, chooses to believe that everyone else is to blame for her downfall, while excluding herself entirely from that equation.

It goes without saying that these characters are well-written. Their emotions, motivations, and actions are complex and whole. I could (clearly) write analysis for days about these two. But here's my point.

Romance is only a potential part of their relationship at the start, no more. It is budding at best, and not fully realized or invoked. It is not ever made explicit or agreed upon. And the foundations of trust between these two, for a massive portion of the movie, are severely damaged. Any intimacy they had as children is put on hold, if not destroyed. They only trust each other as far as their blades reach, and as much as they've crossed paths during the six (6) year time-jump (enough to banter, manipulate each other, and predict each other's strategies to a degree), and and no further than that. Where they left off, they still have a connection, even while they don't trust each other with their deepest values. This foundation is clearly not enough for either of them to warrant a more intimate relationship, be it in the shade of romantic, queerplatonic, sexual, sensual, or otherwise. If it was enough, they would have done so already. Their closest intimacy is for the purpose of evading each other's attacks and maneuvers in order to get the upperhand. Their main goals are not each other, even though they both likely desire deeper connection, like they once had as kids. That childhood connection was genuine; no one is arguing otherwise.

But, by the climax of the movie, these two are not in a position of full, deep trust and connection. At the climax of the movie, when the Gem has finally been restored, their relationship is effectively back at the beginning, right where they left off as kids: budding and new, unsure yet hopeful, and with initial chemistry. That may read as potential romance, potential queerplatonics, potential you-name-it. But it is still potential, not active, not existent in the moment. They still have work to do in terms of building a deep relationship. Trust is a first step — one of many, many more steps. They're still working on the friendship and trust by the end — they just reunited as peoples from different lands, and as old ex-friends. They're relearning to see other lands as friends and not enemies, and that includes the way they see each other. They've come a long way, no doubt, and they still have a long way to go before they're remotely deep friends with established trust. They're effectively rebuilding that damaged trust by the end of the movie.

I mean, seriously. Expecting a full on romantic relationship, or even the explicit beginning of one is a massive stretch. Like, did you watch the movie? They have a lot of things to work through and talk about together! I don't care that they worked together and sacrificed themselves to save the world together. That's step one. Step one going well does not equal the kind of deep intimacy seen in romantic, queerplatonic, or deep platonic relationships, especially not the kind of romance that some audience members expressed they wanted to see from the movie. Did we forget that a genuine, hurtful betrayal happened? Did we forget that a betrayal happened very early on in the relationship? That sort of behavior doesn't scream "healthy relationship," and Raya and Namaari's subsequent reactions to said betrayal and following said event don't scream "consent to intimacy." Like, sure, they were both kids when it happened, especially Namaari, who was partially manipulated into that betrayal. But being young doesn't dilute or negate any of the very real trauma and pain felt by either of them, nor does it take away autonomy and responsibility for actions. She may have been manipulated and taught an incomplete view of the world, but Namaari also made that choice to betray Raya herself, no matter how mis- or un-informed she was about the world at the time. She still made a decision that hurt Raya, and in the process a lot of others. That can't be glossed over if we're talking about the formation of genuinely deep bonds. If the movie had made Raya and Namaari explicitly a couple of any kind, I strongly believe that any romantic, queerplatonic, or any other type of intimate social behavior would have made their relationship and conflict-resolution come across as forced, rushed, inauthentic, and unearned. Gestures of romantic intimacy especially tend to imply (in narratives that want to portray a healthy romantic relationship) a sense of depth, bond, and trust that is developed over long periods of time, marked by continuous and explicit efforts toward mutual trust. Raya and Namaari might have cultivated genuine trust for each other, but they lack a history of that trust that would realistically allow for a believable and genuine romantic/queerplatonic relationship at the level of harmony most "romance-lacking" audience-complaints demand. Raya and Namaari are not at that point yet. Rushing them there doesn't make that bond authentic, nor does it create healthy and realistic queer representation, much less healthy romantic/queerplatonic/intimate representation in general. Furthermore, rushing that sort of thing on-screen and portraying it as perfectly healthy perpetuates pre-existing, unrealistic, and unhealthy ideals of romance, human intimacy in general, and amatonormativity. Preliminary trust is not enough to give someone access to you in totality. We shouldn't portray that idea to kids, and this movie is careful not to. Trust is an ongoing process, and teaching kids that intimacy is developed over time and through consistent respect and communication is paramount. I seriously wish this movie had existed when I was a kid. I wish I had learned what this movie teaches. Romance isn't the answer to everything; it's not the highest form of love; and it's not the highest form of queer representation either. The highest form of love is the kind that is genuine and realistic and respectful.

Plus, on the subject of amatonormativity, I want to restress that queerness is not defined by romance. No one is made queer by their queer relationships, or even their visibly queer relationships. No one is suddenly not queer when they're single. Raya and Namaari can still be queer representation without ever having a romantic, sexual, or even queerplatonic relationship. Does Disney still have a record of cisheteronormative-flavored cowardice towards positively portraying explicitly queer people on screen? Absolutely. But I also don't think the answer to cisheteronormative amatonormativity is queer amatonormativity. Queer people are still queer, regardless of their relationship status, and especially regardless of their romantic orientation. Queer people are queer by virtue of existing.

TL;DR:

This should be more than clear: I'm of the strong opinion that both Raya and Namaari are queer. I don't think any of my regular readership will disagree. But forcing a romance (or any sort of deeper, unearned intimacy) onto this particular relationship and narrative only has the capacity to muddy and ruin this valuable and beautiful storyline and it's themes. Such a careless choice perpetuates some very harmful and prejudiced cultural norms regarding love and it's expression, and such a choice runs the risk of directly teaching children to view the world — to view their relationships — in a limiting, destructive, and isolating way.

I wouldn't change any part of the way this movie portrays Raya and Namaari's relationship. Every ounce of their interactions: from their words to their body language, facial expressions to actions, motivations to desires, conflict to resolution — they all make sense and are fully earned in this movie.

Yes, they'd look super cute together. Yes, it would likely be super cathartic for my gay little heart to see them kiss. Yes, they have the chemistry and potential for really meaningful and fulfilling growth and intimacy down the line. That is kind of the entire message of of the movie: potential; growth seen as a process made up of steps, the first being the catalyst towards making that potential a reality.

Raya and Namaari are a queer-coded microcosm for the rest of their world. They are one of many microcosms teaching a lesson about the importance of valuing and developing communal, cross-border trust.

Please stop yelling at Disney to make them kiss. They're together in a way that matters just as much, and they're together in a way that, for once, doesn't make romance the highest and truest form of intimacy. Write your fanfiction, enjoy them as a pairing, write letters to Disney and tell them we deserve explicit and normalized queer representation (because we do). Do what you wish, and do what makes you happy! Enjoy your queer pairings! I encourage you! I implore you!

But please, please, please don't discount the importance, validity, and power of the connection they do have. This connection is no less intimate and no less important than romance, sex, or anything else. They don't need romance to be queer, and they don't need any label at all to be a beautiful, realistic, and healthy portrayal of human relationships, queer or not.

And for the record, they are very, very gay, and nobody, not even Disney, can change my mind.

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star-wars-scribbles-ff · 3 years

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Where I Belong | Chapter 5

Story Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she’ll discover where she belongs.

Fandom: Star Wars | Galaxy Far Far Away

Rating: T+

Story Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/found family | war violence, death, torture, discrimination, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, found family, lots of clone boys, (spans the whole clone war) eventual Order 66 and rise of the Empire

Words: 3,205

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. Republic Cog header/chapter divider made by me 😊

Taglist: @divergent-llamas-03 @thisistheendtimes @tallyquark @your-very-rude-neighborhood-ace @remadster @808tsuika

CHAPTER NOTE: Planned on making this a May 4th chapter update but time got away, not really proof read, I remembered I’m pretty much writing this for myself, and this chapter is kind of short so... sorry me I guess lololol.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | Arwen Corcer Mercenary Visuals Art | Arwen Corcer - Past Lives Art

Anakin Skywalker considered her in silence. Do I look dead, sir? Was that a jab? Just a statement- a question? Her aura was giving him nothing; it was calm, collected, but under the surface bubbling with a scrambled mix of emotions that he couldn’t decipher. Not just anyone could mask that from a Jedi. It made him uneasy.

“... What’s your CT number?” He asked, posture straightening as he crossed his arms.

The look she turned on him was almost amused as she looked him up and down for a moment, brow knit before she raised an eyebrow.

“My CT number? What- do I look like a clone to you?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Anakin quickly found his voice turning almost impatient. It wasn’t intentional, but perhaps a defense against this situation which he wasn’t the slightest prepared for. He’d buried this. Having it drop back in on him like this wasn’t something he wanted to welcome with open arms.

He narrowed his eyes at her lack of reaction as she continued to eye him before her gaze fell to the table. Her ease and calm nature regarding her situation pushed a button he didn’t know he had, and it irritated him. The only thing that brought him solace was that despite her seemingly tranquil exterior, he could sense she was harboring a restlessness. One he was having trouble deciphering, but all the same it was there.

Considering her posture, he noted her body language gave away very little. Somewhat defensive, but not overwhelmingly so; her arms were rested in her lap, shoulders slightly caved inward, but still relaxed. She looked like a mercenary by her attire. The chest and torso plates she was wearing had notes of old republic craftsmanship; it wasn’t a commonly worn style anymore. Her shoulder plates also had unique craftsmanship, but he didn’t recognize them.

A few dried splatters of blood covered her left shoulder plate, where her head injury was making itself known. She’d need medical attention; something he wasn’t looking forward to as she’d need to be transferred to the medical facility onsite. He needed very little to tell him she was dangerous. She lacked a boastful ego, and that only increased the likelihood that she possessed a deadly skill set. Moving someone like that around should be avoided at all costs, but a head injury was cause for concern. Thankfully, that was something to consider later on. For now, he had to worry strictly about interrogation of the individual.

Part of him was uncertain of how to proceed. She would be on the GAR database, it was just a matter of whether he’d be able to access the material. Surely he’d be able to. He vaguely remembered seeing her file, but he didn’t remember enough details.

“What was the nature of your assignment on Garo IV.” He questioned. Only way forward was to strike the connections they had present. While the mission wasn’t related, it was the only string he could pull. Waiting for an answer was how he had spent eighty percent of his time during interrogations. Maybe pulling this string would get her talking a bit more.

When she met his eyes, he raised an eyebrow as she put off giving him a verbal response. He really didn’t have the patience for interrogations. Obi-Wan knew that and would usually have him conduct them because of said fact.

“What unit were you with?” He tried, adjusting his crossed arms over his chest as he stood at the opposite side of the table from where she was seated.

“I’m not at liberty to disclose details regarding my assignments nor my former position with the Republic Military.” The monotone of her voice surprised him as she leaned back in the chair and met his gaze once more. “Sir.” The tone of her voice was laced with sarcasm, unamused sarcasm but it was becoming more obvious she was going to make this harder for him.

He found himself giving the smallest hint of a smirk. Two could play the game.

“Well then, make yourself comfortable. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” He noted before stepping forward to lean one hand on the table, the other coming to rest on his belt.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about before you’re inevitably arrested for treason against the Republic.”

Rex had watched the footage multiple times now, and it pulled him in opposite directions. This should be an easy case, but every time he came to that conclusion, something knocked him upside the head screaming that it wasn’t. Cody seemed to be in a similar position.

He glanced at his brother, noting the gears seemingly turning in his expression as he lowered his gaze from the footage they were reviewing.

“What're you thinking?”

Any other Commander, and Rex would’ve addressed them properly; but this was Cody. He’d known Cody all his life. He was more than just a superior officer, he was a brother - his brother - and they rarely ever used formal addresses around each other. He knew Cody felt the same way towards him.

“This won’t be cut and dry.” His expression stoic, the Marshal Commander finally let his eyes fall from the footage before he turned and took a few steps to the adjacent table where the sack of explosives resided.

“Facial recognition picked up the other one.” Rex informed his brother before letting out a quiet sigh as he turned his gaze towards the hall leading to the interrogation room. “Your average mid ranking merc in the underworld. This one on the other hand...” Rex gestured to the holoscreen on the computer station against the wall. The footage played over and over again; the image of the mercenary they had in custody knocking Cody out of the line of fire did little to lesson Rex’s caution. “Still no hits. I don’t like it.”

“Do you think it was an act?” Cody questioned, turning to meet the eyes of his comrade.

“What part exactly?” Rex leaned back against the table, partially seated on the edge.

The shift in the Commander’s eyeline back towards the footage answered Rex’s question as he looked to the holoscreen as well. The footage looped over and over, and Rex took a few moments to analyze the moment when the merc pushed his brother out of the line of fire.

“W- Do you think it was sincere?” Rex tried to suppress his chuckle but it slipped out. It wasn’t something he had considered. He’d honestly been avoiding thinking about her motive to push Cody out of the way. It seemed that’s all Cody was thinking about however.

“She said ‘sorry sir’... to me.” Cody responded.

“Sir?” Rex emphasized while raising an eyebrow. “Alright I admit that’s- odd. But what’s your point, Cody. She still infiltrated this base with a sack full of explosives. I think the intent is clear.”

“Gentlemen,” The announcement of the Jedi’s presence caused Rex and Cody to briefly stand at attention.

“General Kenobi,” Cody greeted his superior with a courteous nod of his head and Rex gave a similar gesture as Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi walked through the blast doors.

“I apologize for the lateness of my arrival, Cody.” Obi-Wan dipped his head towards Cody as the Jedi came to a stop in front of the two troopers. “I did receive your transmission. Have there been any developments on our intruders?”

“Yes sir,” Cody responded, taking a couple steps closer to the holoscreen at the computer station, giving it a small gesture with his hand. “We’ve got a hit on one of them, I was going to get your confirmation on a warrant. The other however isn’t coming up on civilian or criminal databases.”

“Neither?” Kenobi questioned, taking a step closer to watch the footage quietly.

“No sir,” Cody gave Obi-Wan the response as he went to open the satchel on the far table, Rex loosely at his side. “Both had one of these. This belongs to the one we have in custody.”

“Skywalker is doing the interrogation?” Obi-Wan inquired, eyes on the footage. His brow knit gently and one brow twitched up with curiosity as he watched the footage of the criminal they had in custody.

“He is, sir.”

Silence followed closely behind Cody’s words as the two Officers waiting for the Jedi’s next move. Rex glanced briefly at his brother, hands loosely at his sides, but a subtle tension remained in his posture. This was a new problem, one they hadn’t encountered before.

General Skywalker was being oddly distant with this mercenary in custody. Usually an Officer would accompany on interrogations, however the General had made it clear that he wanted to handle this one alone following some sort of revelation. Whatever it was, Rex knew it complicated matters to some extent.

“If you’ll excuse me, Commander, Captain,” General Kenobi turned to the Clone Officers. “I will have a word with Skywalker.”

“Let us know if you need anything, sir.” Cody was quick to respond and Rex backed up his brother’s words with a nod.

Once the General excused himself, Rex took a couple of steps closer to the Commander and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why wouldn’t she come up on any database?” Rex mumbled the question privately to Cody. “It doesn’t make sense. Not even facial recognition picked anything up prior to the last few months. She’s a ghost.” Rex shook his head in subtle disbelief, brow knit tightly.

His arms already crossed, Cody reached up with a hand to lightly touch his chin as he thought quietly.

“I was hired to hit this location. I don’t know who, I didn’t get a name, but I suspect it came from a long chain of people most likely working for the Separatists.” The mercenary explained.

“Do you mercenaries normally just take jobs and ask questions later?” Anakin inquired, causing the girl’s eyes to narrow.

“It was a closed door job; information was kept private until they pulled people in for the job. If I hadn’t taken it they would’ve shot me then and there.” She muttered the explanation, defensive frustration subtly laced through her voice.

“Considering the way to shoved that Officer out of harm's way - I take it you prefer to hurt from a distance. Not too soft to do the dirty work up close are you?” He pushed further, much to his contempt as she visibly clenched her jaw and hardened her glaring gaze at him.

“Anakin, might I remind you of the reliability of using more friendly tactics during interrogation?”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin carefully greets his old Master as the Jedi enters the cell.

“Might I have a moment with you outside,” Kenobi gestured briefly towards the cell door.

Anakin grumbled before reluctantly leaving alongside the Jedi Master. This was not a good look for an interrogator.

Once on the other side of the cell’s energy shield door, Obi-Wan and Anakin made their way down a few cells to get some space from everyone.

“Now, what is this all about?” Obi-Wan inquired, crossing his arms across his chest. “I left the base for one day and-”

“This isn’t just some mercenary, Master.” Anakin cut to the chase rather quickly but begrudgingly hesitated for a moment. “I can’t believe I am saying this- but she was one of us.”

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan’s brow was knit tightly, a clear expression of confusion marked his face before Anakin went to explain.

“This happened a few months ago; shortly after I became a knight. The battle group I was with near Sundari. Master Krell was dealing with forces on the planet surface when I picked up a distress signal from a Clone Team on Garo IV. They asked for extraction; said they had vital information. I’m not sure exactly what kind but…” Anakin trailed off as he remembered the day.

Kenobi eyed his former padawan for a time before giving a small nod of reluctant understanding.

“And where does this mercenary come into play?” He inquired, gesturing forward with a hand.

Anakin met his Master’s eyes for a time before looking away once more.

“She was the one that sent the distress signal, Master.”

Once the Jedi left the cell, Arwen let herself slump back into her chair. Jaw relaxing she muttered under her breath before briefly closing her eyes, squeezing them shut for good measure to briefly combat the pain of her head injury.

This isn’t good. I have to get out of here before this spirals.

If she tried to escape, it would make things worse long term. The situation couldn’t get much worse from here, at least not in regards to her relationship with the Republic. The worst thing that could happen to her is imprisonment. Right now her reputation was what she was most concerned with.

Corcer relaxed her brow, trying to soften the pressure that had been building in her head before she took in an audible breath and slowly let it out.

Of all the Jedi that could be dealing with this… It just had to be the one that one.

He could either make matters better or worse. She’d have to suck it up regardless.

At the mere thought of it, Arwen clenched her jaw, unable to hide the snarl of an expression that threatened to appear.

Jedi. There were few she thought below them. A twisted organization. Sure they had a few good ones here and there, but they were the biggest problem with the Republic. She’d rather shoot herself now and get it over with than roll over and play dead in this interrogation but… She had somewhere to be and had things to do.

As long as this di’kut doesn’t try to mention the team, I’ll be fine.

Silencing her thoughts, Arwen looked to the cell door and waited for someone to reappear. Her intent gaze only increased as she tried to silence the thoughts at the back of her mind. Seconds turn to minutes before she finally feels her shoulders begin to relax and her eyes fall.

…. The team…. My team.

Her chest tightened as she caught herself subconsciously distancing herself from the painful memories of her old life.

You can’t do that. No matter how much it hurts. If you don’t remember them, no one will.

Obi-Wan processed this information quietly for a time before finally meeting the eyes of his former padawan.

“And you’re certain this is her?”

“I’m positive, Master. She already confirmed it to me; reluctantly I might add.” Anakin responded.

The two make their way back down the hall and pass the mercenary’s interrogation cell before turning down the hall towards where Commander Cody and Captain Rex resided.

“We can continue her interrogation later. For the time being, we need to continue our prevailing investigation.”

Anakin fought the urge to roll his eyes but let out a grumbled huff before rubbing the back of his head as they entered the open room.

“Master-”

“You and I both know that intel may be critical, Anakin.” Obi-Wan reminded the younger Jedi with a somewhat stern tone. “If the Separatists get ahold of it-”

“We’ll have problems. I know, I know.” Anakin put his hands up before letting them fall. “Pirate scum.” Skywalker muttered under his breath, shooting a brief look around the room towards where Cody and Rex resided cataloging another sack of items from the mercenary. “They’re all talk, this info could just be putting us on a wild bantha chase.”

“And if it’s sincere?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and waited for his former padawan to concede in his weak reluctance to pay the investigation the attention it needed.

Anakin didn’t hide the roll of his eyes before giving a nod. “Understood, Master.”

The Jedi didn’t come back. Something Arwen wasn’t necessarily against. However as she was escorted down the hall by a Clone squad, she found herself almost disappointed she wasn’t able to speak with the Jedi.

It was becoming clear to her that she needed to talk with them to make any progress, but her anger- maybe even mild hatred towards them- kicked at her to not wish to be stuck in such a situation.

“Destination?” Arwen chanced speaking up, and was surprised when she got a response.

“Jail cell for temporary holding until interrogation continues.” The Clone a few paces in front of her on her right responded, not sparing her a glance as he continued to walk down the corridor.

Arwen looked to the ground and nodded to the side.

Better than silence I suppose. That means they still plan on talking to me. Good.

The quiet sound of conversation perked her ears and as they continued walking, it grew louder, and the voices grew clearer.

One of them was the Jedi she’d spoken to - Anakin as the other Jedi had called him. And the other one was Obi-Wan. The names were familiar unfortunately, and now she had faces to put to the names. Practically celebrities as far as the Republic was concerned. Forget the Holovid stars, Jedi Knights were it since the war had started.

Arwen’s gaze found an open room coming up on the left and she looked inside to find the two Jedi on opposite ends of a holotable looking hologram of an individual she actually recognized.

The fact made her stop, much to the surprise of the two clones behind her as one of them ran right into her with a grunt of surprise.

“Sir,” She called out to the Jedi, either one of them.

They both looked over, each with a look of mild confusion before Arwen went to continue talking.

“Is that Jiro Tuck?” She inquired, her eyes briefly dwelled on the hologram before turning to the bearded Jedi.

“You know of this individual?” He was the one she hadn’t seen much of, Obi-Wan as the dark haired Jedi, Anakin, had called him.

“Yes sir,” Arwen responded, glancing to the clone escort which she could tell was getting agitated. “If you’re looking for either him or his brother- I might have a few leads. I’ve been hired to find him before.”

The butt of a blaster was suddenly knocked into her back and Arwen caught her footing gracefully before looking over her shoulder at the helmeted trooper.

“Keep moving,” He snapped before ushering her forward with his rifle.

Arwen looked towards the Jedi once more before complying with the Clone escort, continuing down the hall.

They took her down to the holding cells and placed her in an empty cell. From the look it was vacant; she was the only one there.

Once the cell door closed, the troopers walked away and Arwen found herself sitting down on the metal platform that acted as a cot.

Ok. Seed planted. You better be able to deliver on that.

She had done work with the pirate before. Whatever he was involved in though would probably only bring her more heat from either the Separatists or the Republic, neither of which she wanted.

Either way… She needed to find a way out. This looked like her only option. If she played her cards right, she might be able to get out of this.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | Arwen Corcer Mercenary Visuals Art | Arwen Corcer - Past Lives Art

Chapter Note: If anyone is reading this I hope you enjoy I suppose. Again- wasn’t proof read so.... sorry for the grammar errors. Might fix it... Might not. Probably won’t.

#my writing #star wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #star wars ocs #clone wars ocs #captain rex #commander cody #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #clones #clone ocs #grand army of the republic #coruscant #republic military #jedi

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vesperstalksclones · 4 years

Text

What will you do after Mandalore?

Rated teen

Ingredients: kissy kissy, pining, angst, oogling, heavy petting, Rex likes using the F word a lot and thinks plenty about his tool

Sketch by @i-got-no-bones

He spotted her across the sky plaza that they had commandeered as a landing platform. Arms crossed, feet spread, back arched into her posture; every inch of her shining with pride as she watched her men tend to their business.

Rex was content to merely stand and observe for a moment. Ahsoka Tano had disappeared over a year ago, radio silent. Furious and hurting, no doubt, after the Jedi council, men and women she had called family, had handed her over to the republic judiciary system to be tried on circumstantial evidence for a crime she didn't commit. Her name had been cleared and the culprit caught, but when the council invited her back sheepishly, after her humiliating excommunication, she graciously told them to shit in their hat, turned heel and walked away. He respected her for that, also envied her the freedom to be able to do so. If he stuck his birds to the GAR and turned his back, his parting gift would, at best, be a blaster shot to the shebs. Property didn't get to make choices like that.

He could have tracked her down, but she hadn't left him so much as a scribble in parting. He had not taken it well. First came panic - she was alone, who would have her back? Then anger - the 501st and Torrent squadron weren't good enough to stay for? Fuck her!!! The pain of abandonment - didn't the years fighting side by side mean anything, the men who had died protecting her life? Blind fury at the council that had driven her away - he had demolished several training druids to cope with that. Jealousy; that perhaps she had retreated somewhere… to someone… someone male... to lick her wounds and seek comfort. Like that litte Bonterri fuck stick.

"No, old man, you turned yourself pretty inside out over Ahsoka's nonexistent good bye", Rex mused, a wry smile spreading over his lips. After about four weeks of stewing in his own volatile pit of self-pity and rage, during a particularly long night of insomnia spiced with bourbon whiskey, he realized why he was so angry. Fuck the Jedi, they didn't return the loyalty she had always offered. Fuck the GAR. They would carry on fighting and killing and invading and dying with or without her.

Rex had realized, in those oppressive pre-dawn hours, that he agonized because she had left him. They had been companions for more than three years! She had grown from a bratty youngling, to a capable warrior, to a leader almost without match. They loved her, the 501st. Torrent, the battering ram of the esteemed legion, especially worshipped her. If General Skywalker was the spearpoint of the forces, the Troopers were the rigid staff,, and Ahsoka was the sinews and lead and nails that held the two together. They had adopted her as their blood sister, named her Vod'ika, and taught her their words. The squadron had cracked a little from their loss. The center of the chasm had been their CO. Rex was drowning in despair when he had heard his own voice quietly wimper…

"Why did you leave me?"

It hurt, to hear it out loud. It made the pain more real somehow. He had curled inward on himself, hating that he desperately needed his friend to help him cope, and yet she was the one he was mourning.

By the time he had crawled from his bunk, all vestiges of anger had burned away. Left behind was only depression, and empty bitterness. Everything became harder after that. Skywalker also suffered her loss, and he and Rex began to severely grate on each other's nerves. Rex flung himself into work and training for the distraction, earning a multitude of grumbles from his Vod as he expected them to keep up his grueling pace.

And then… Skywalker commed him. The General spoke as nonchalantly as if he was discussing the soy loaf at dinner. There was a mission to be had, to Mandalore. Bo Katan Kryze was in need of assistance, unseating the Sith lord Maul who had claimed the planet for his own. She would be meeting them in roughly 72 hours, with her comrade at arms. A certain Lady Tano.

Rex had leapt from his desk, pacing a circle for nearly an hour. Skywalker said that they would accompany her, Rex in command of as many men as she needed. His stomach was clawing inside him like a trapped loth cat, with anticipation, excitement, and anxiety.

He needed to tell his boys. Her boys. Their girl was coming home. He had stood there smiling like an idiot, loving the feel of those words in his weary brain.

He called Torrent to attention in their barracks, briefly explaining the mission. They were going to fight for their father's home. Serve the warrior people that had created all that the Vode held dear. He could see the energy beginning to rise from them, the promise of a fight that really did belong to them in some way.

He savored a pause, keeping her his precious secret for a second longer, before he flung her name to his troops like fresh meat to hungry dogs. The resulting roar was deafening, with a string of particularly loud expletives from Jesse, who had become his de-facto Captain, as Rex had taken on the Command of the 501st in purpose if not in official name. It warmed his tired heart to the core.

Excusing himself he strode away to his quarters. The energy that the mere mention of her name generated had put the spring back in his strut. He didn't sleep that night either, for the boyish excitement inside.

By the following evening, several hundred men were sporting orange blazes on their helmets, and the indoctrinated eye would recognize the white jagged stripes that swept down over their visors. The men had shined every inch of their armor, oiled and cleaned every gun, sharpened every blade. He allowed them to fight it out for their spots at review. A few black eyes were given over the choicest front row positions.

Then came the day of her arrival . General skywalker commed him for assembly. The men jogged to the meeting point, a large liaison space on the 3rd level. He had counted the length of his breaths carefully, willing himself to be calm and composed, as if this was really any other inspection. He was screaming inside. He felt like his stomach was trying to fall out of his ass.

The door chimed and slid open. And there she was. But she wasn't the girl he remembered. She seemed to have grown over the past year. Taller yes, he noted the distinct curve taking shape in her Montrails. Not just vertical growth either; she had expanded in all directions. Her hips were no longer angular, but smoothly bowed outward. Her waist tapered in and climbed upward to... what used to be pert little breasts - polite things that barely moved when she vaulted across the training mats. Now… well… they weren't polite anymore. In her absence Little'un had become a woman. How the hell did all this happen in a year?

He called the men to attention, unable to suppress the absolute shit eating grin of joy that had plastered itself there. She had traded the skirts and tights of her padawan youth for the dignified garb of a warrior. Smart armored combat boots covered tight breeches, and disappeared under a slim fitting, high collared shirt which proved both modest and profoundly flattering at the same time. Having discarded her Akul tooth headdress when she left the temple, Ahsoka now wore a variety of tiara that looked like hand hammered durasteel. Numerous arm bands and leg holsters carried her various kit. Best of all, he noticed, she had outfitted herself almost entirely in the cobalt blue of the 501st.

Ahsoka stepped towards him. Hesitantly, uncertain of her place in the scheme of things, her eyes searching his face for a cue. He was positively giddy at her approach, glad that his full body armour could dampen the sight of the tremors that ran through him.

"Beautiful, fierce, brave girl… don't look at me like that. You'll always belong with us" he didn't say the words, they shone from his eyes. Her gaze landed on the helmet clutched in his hand, and he was certain they moistened as the orange and white design drove its message home. They were hers and she was theirs.

Moments later, things got complicated, as they were wont to do when Skywalker was involved. He had loaded about three thousand odd men on to another venator. Anakin had named him official CO of the 501st (could've done that a fucking year ago) and they left with their Lady. A jedi no longer, now only a civilian advisor. Whatever, she was still their angel.

Now, about 48 hours later, they had Maul's forces on the run, and had taken a few hours to regroup, gather sit-reps, and organize the city wide hunt for the criminal. His duties were tended for the moment so Rex had gone on the search, hungry to see her face again. He spied her by the transports, wearing her pride of possession, as she watched her Vod do what they did best.

He jogged across the pavement and slowed to a swaggering stroll as he neared her. She beamed at him, blue eyes reflecting the city lights.

"All right there, Lil?"

"Rex, this has gone off smoother than I had hoped. The citizens are disgusted, but at least things didn't de-evolve in to violence."

Gah, her voice! It was like a cool breeze on a shitty hot day.

She retreated a little way between the LAATs

and retrieved a canteen of water, drinking deeply. He took the opportunity to appreciate what nature had wrought upon the Togrutan.

He couldn't pretend to be an expert on her race's anatomy, but he could definitely see that the physical changes in her had stopped being about adding physical size, and began to be about physical allure. The hard muscles of her youthful form had gained some softness via artistically placed plump cushions. Her rump… hips… bosom. Her face had exchanged youthful roundness for a pointed chin and angled jaw, and instead focused the fullness in to her plum colored lips.

It wasn't until after the initial excitement of the reunion when they were en route to Mandalore that he could privately reflect upon her changes. As she bent over to adjust her boot straps he was certain the thirty or so Vod in the room must have heard his cock slam against his cod piece as he reacted to the sight of her peach shaped rear offered up like a feast before him. Since that moment he had remained at nothing less than half mast, his member ready and waiting for the off chance that he might need it, while his brain begged it to behave itself and not act a fool..

How the hell had he come to this? His sweet friend had become a veritable sex pot, her body shedding the trappings of youth and preparing her to recieve a male. The notion that had began to grow in his mind that night in his lonely bed so many months ago, had born fruit and ripened in that moment.

He Loved her and not as a lad should love his dear friend.. He had pined away for months, struggling to function through the void created by her absence. Moments of privacy had tormented him either with loneliness for her presence or aching for her touch. Often his mind wandered too far in her direction and he was forced to take matters in to his own hands… well hand…. And release brought guilt as well as relief.

When he closed the gap between them she offered the drink, and he happily chugged some just to taste her on the rim. He was so desperate, he thought. So fucking pathetic, but he couldn't help himself… and frankly didn't want to. As he regarded her, Ahsoka fidgeted nervously and her face fell, a mask of anxiety appearing. He knit his brow at the change, capping the canteen and setting it aside.

"Rex… I'm sorry."

He frowned. This was happening now, she was ready to explain to him her actions. In the middle of a mission. Fucking hell. He continued to watch her, his face calm and professional.

"Im sorry I didn't say goodbye. It was a shitty thing to do to you. It was cowardly and I was wrong, and I've regretted it every single day." Her sapphire gems stared in to his amber ones, searching them for his reply.

Rex sighed heavily. He had a few things to tell her, and he'd be damned if she was going to run away this time before he heard each and every one of them clearly.

"Ahsoka…" he reached for her, and with only a little hesitation she snaked her arms around his waist and leaned against his armored chest. Resting her cheek near his pauldron. He wrapped her up in his embrace and stole a moment to sniff deeply of her scent. Spice, and something herbal - like tea. Leather. And her own subtle musk, which reminded him of the sun warmed straw field he had walked through on Naboo. How he had missed that smell.

"I wont lie Lil. I hated you for about a week. When I got over that, I stayed pissed off for at least another month."

She trembled a little, her face hidden from view.

"Then, during my fifth week of insomnia and self loathing, I realized why I was so angry, and that it definitely wasn't because I hated you."

He tilted his head down, seeking her eyes, but she was still hiding them on his shoulder.

He nudged her lekk with his nose, gently demanding her attention. She shyly met his gaze, the blazing blue stars beginning to blur behind tears. Stop this at once Lil, you're not the crying type, and especially not over me.

He dipped his face to hers, capturing her lips. She was rigid with shock for a moment, but then relaxed against his touch. He barely broke away, only to come back for a second helping, kissing her with more force in order to drive his message home. She tasted like honey, hints of cinnamon, and the poor quality caf they all survived off of on the Venators. The feel of her petal soft lips against his was enough to make his knees shake, and his heart pound, and, thinking back on every fantasy he had entertained about her, he would come to realize what a poor imagination he had.

Pulling away, she dashed at her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"The truth is that… I didn't dare come to see you that day. I knew that it would upset you and I couldn't cope with that. I wouldn't have been able to go make myself leave, even though it was the right thing for me. Its ok that you hated me for a while.. I hated myself."

She sucked in a shaky breath, regarding him silently for a moment as if she was trying to choose her next words carefully. Apparently, her voice had left her, so she framed his face with her sienna colored hands and returned to his kiss almost violently. He spanned her waist with his hands, pulling her closer to him, all the while cursing his protective armor that denied him the pressure of her firm body.

"I wouldn't have let you go" he growled, biting at her lip for punctuation. With a breathy whimper she opened her mouth to his caress. He tasted her lips, and her tongue, twisting his head for a better angle. His gloved hands groped their way blindly up her back, and then back downward to her waist, one daring to sneak to her rump, palming the cheek boldly, but hell she could shatter his bones with her mind if she objected and he wouldn't be upset. She answered by chasing his tongue with hers, uttering a low moan of approval.

Rex pushed her backward against the cold side of the transport, pinning her there with his bodyweight. His mind spun with surprise and delight that not only had she not broken his face, but was mouthing and pawing at him with equal desire. He sucked in a quick breath and claimed her mouth again, leading the charge with a velvet tongue. He was determined to display for her every ounce of frustration she had left him in for the past year. To convince her that she should not leave him again.

He nipped at her chin, scraped his teeth along her jawline, and caught a hitch in his breath as he tasted the salty skin at her neck. She rolled her head away, crooning gently, and he surprised himself at how quickly he one handed the top few frogs of her shirt. Bearing her neck down to the shoulder, he sucked and kissed at her offering, cherishing her closeness, his mind racing at the willingness with which she came to him. His right hand had found its way to her breast, caressing the sleek fabric covered mound and searching the telltale hardened peak he found there. She was arched backward over his opposite arm, her legs astride his armoured thigh, all the while he was inwardly cursing the confines of his pelvic armor; his member had sprung to full solute at the attentions of his Lady Commander. When she rolled her hips he dared to arch to his boot toe, giving her a hard surface to press herself against.

She stiffened under his touch, suddenly going quiet and still.

"Kriff." she whispered.

His eyes snapped open, alarmed by the sudden change in her demeanor. He was about to speak when…

"OORAH! COMMANDER!"

A chorus of hoots and howls joined the first voice, and Rex dropped his forehead to Ahsoka's shoulder, hand still splayed across her chest, thigh pressed to her besh… his index finger tracing the crease of her perfect ass….

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jesse. Kriffing Jesse, and about fifty of his men. Standing there watching him grind on Ahsoka like they were a live action porn holo.

"Fuck my life" he growled in disgust.

"GET SOME VOD! OWWWWW!!!"

Dammit Jesse.

The fondling hand shot to his hip and raised the blaster just in time for his head to snap up and choose his target. The bolt screamed by Jesse, missing his temple by the length of a finger.

Wide eyed, he screamed and cackled and ducked, the other troops reacting similarly.

Rex contemplated shooting them all, and was choosing his next target when….

"FUCKING JESSE! QUIT COCK BLOCKING ME, YOU STUPID PENIS WRINKLE!" Ahsoka roared at the clone, and with a violent sweep of her arm she flung the entire corps out of sight further down the plaza. Rex couldn't help but grin at the satisfying shouts of pain and the clatter of armored bodies bouncing on the cement.

They both sighed as he returned his DC to its home, and met each other's gaze.

"Is that what he was doing, Commander? Cock-blocking you?" He teased.

Ahsoka's blue chevrons darkened in the Togrutan equivalent of a blush.

"Im not your Commander, Rex, not GAR, nor am I a Jedi. I'd prefer if you'd address me properly."

"And how's that?" He cocked his head, smirking at her.

"Anything but. You decide, cyare."

She pushed her forehead against his. He flushed from the thrill. She had used his "native" tongue, never before had anyone called him "beloved", and the forehead "kiss" was a touch of the purest loving affection among Vod.

"Do you mean that? "Cyare"? Rex's head was spinning. The delicious heavy petting could have allowed him to die happily, but she had done something far more wonderful to him. Cyare was not a name for a piece of meat used to scratch an itch with.. did she understand that? "Are you sure, Lil?"

"Yes, I mean that. I want you, Rex. I think I have for a long time, but I was afraid to call it what it was. I didn't think you'd ever look at me the same way."

"What? Why wouldn't I?"

"Because your a grown man!... Who happens to be younger than me… and I've always just been this idiot kid." She frowned, the dusky colored pout did terrible things to him.

"I don't think you've been a kid for a while now Sokka." To emphasize his statement, he kissed her like she was a woman. His woman. "What happens…" he didn't know if he dared to hope… "What will you do after we are done here?"

"I haven't really thought about it. I guess it depends on our success."

They heard shouts. Troopers were gathering on the plaza, getting ready to depart for their search.

"Than let's find the hut'uun quickly."

He gave her a final kiss and a squeeze, and backed away step by step until her hand dropped away.

#rexsoka #captainrex #captainaccidentlysexy #ahsokatano #seige of mandalore #clone wars fanfic

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

Who do you save, John? (Bit 10c + The End)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5a | Bit 5b | Bit 6 | Bit 7 | Bit 8 | Bit 9 | Bit 10a | Bit 10b | Bit 10c

Always end up rushed. Didn’t have a chance to edit the end so I’m likely to be swearing at it later. Sorry for the delay, muse crashed and burned on Friday. here’s hoping I’ve resuscitated it. 17,000 words. So much for the under 10K I estimated. Typical.

For @5hadow-alpha cos they wanted Shopping and a Tracy brother. They got more than one, and I got more than I expected.

-o-o-o-

The next time Alan woke, the room was full of golden family.

The sun was setting through the window, lighting up the room in shades of gold. His brothers were lit up as they clustered around Virgil’s bed.

They didn’t notice Alan, and it gave him the opportunity to both wake up fully and observe his family undetected.

He was feeling much better. His head was a lot clearer and he was calmer.

The reason why no one noticed his wakefulness was because Virgil was already awake.

His brother was smiling and poking fun at a sunlit Gordon near the end of his bed. Gordon appeared to be enjoying it. When the attention drifted away from him and whether or not he was allowed to film Virgil on drugs, the expression on his fish brother’s face was one of fondness and hope. His eyes barely left the prone man.

That fact could have been annoying from a little brother’s perspective, but Alan found himself doing the same thing.

Virgil, who had literally died in his arms, was supported by his bed, sitting up at an angle and talking quite animatedly. There was a healthy flush to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before.

John was standing calmly on the other side of the bed, the setting sun catching his hair from behind as it darted through the hospital window.

John had a habit of striking such a pose. It was unclear if he did it on purpose or was completely unaware of his surroundings in those moments.

Virgil had photographed him on multiple occasions for that exact reason, much to the astronaut’s annoyance.

Grandma stood beside him; her arms wrapped around his. That was an unusual sight. But then they had almost lost a brother and the threat had been to John.

That thought led into unpleasant directions so he brought it to a halt.

He could only see Scott’s back, but his brother was gesticulating, making a point about digging up Gordon’s baby videos and broadcasting them to the world if he didn’t behave.

As if Scott would ever do something like that.

Though, come to think of it, the threat at least wasn’t a bad idea. Alan had much less a solid reputation than Scott and could probably carry the threat enough to get some good ones out of his brother.

“How did you know it was a fake detonator?” John’s voice cut across the conversation, his expression puzzled. The question came out of the blue, ever a sign that John’s mind worked on more than one track at a time.

Virgil blinked up at him. “I…I didn’t at first. It was a good replica of a T-325. But I noticed he was holding his hand strangely. The T-325 has a trigger rest here.” His brother held up a hand as if to sketch out the design in the air, only wince and withdraw the gesture.

Grandma frowned at him from the other side of the bed.

“Long story short…if you waved a T-325 around as much as he did, with that grip, chances are we would have blown up long before he had started his second rant. That one is a touchy model.” Virgil shifted awkwardly and Scott laid a hand on his arm.

“Well, I’m glad we had our expert on hand.”

Scott’s smile was reflected in Virgil’s eyes.

“Oh, ho, ho, look who’s awake!”

Trust Gordon to dob him in.

Suddenly all the eyes in the room were on Alan. His father and eldest brother spun, both faces lighting up when they realised Alan was awake.

Alan couldn’t help but grin back. “Hey.” His voice caught and he coughed.

Talk about ruining a moment. Scott was on him immediately, his dad not far behind.

“How are you feeling, Alan?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m good.” He reached out his uninjured arm and nudged his worried brother aside gently. “Virgil?”

Soft brown eyes caught his and his big brother smiled. “Hey, Allie.”

A hand landed on Alan’s leg and he looked up to find a pair of grey eyes peering down at him. Alan frowned. “Dad, you should sit down.”

“I’m fine, Allie. Are you comfortable?”

An arched eyebrow. “I’m good, honest.” And he was. There was definitely still something in his system. It was keeping him quite happy. Too much movement probably wasn’t on the cards yet, but to be honest, the sight of Virgil smiling at him was enough endorphins to keep him going for weeks.

He turned back to Virgil and soaked it in.

The smile turned to a grin and Alan flushed in embarrassment.

But those brown eyes were reassurance itself.

“Hmm, did you two want to be alone?”

“Shut up, Gordon.” It was sharp, but no less reassuring that Virgil could spin the familiar phrase off so easily.

Alan laughed. “Good to see you, Virg.”

Again with the smile. “Likewise.” Those eyes turned inwards for a second before fixating on him. “And thank you.”

The line ‘just doing my job’ climbed onto his lips, but he vetoed it. “Always, bro.”

The room was embarrassingly silent after that and the moment broke.

“Dad, I would rather you sat down.” Virgil was definitely feeling better.

“I can look after myself, son.” It was firm and a touch threatening if Virgil chose to push the point.

But his father took a seat.

Alan shifted position and his arm twinged. He must have shown it on his face, because Scott reached out and touched his shoulder. He looked up to find worried blue eyes staring down at him.

Apparently, he needed to repeat himself. “I’m okay, Scott.”

His brother grunted before letting go, grabbing his plastic chair and dumping himself in it.

The room fell silent.

Turquoise hit him from across the room as the sun dipped behind a cloud and the room chilled.

“So, who was that guy?” Anything to get the conversation moving.

For a second, he regretted the topic as Scott’s lips thinned, but he had to know and clearing the air wouldn’t hurt, would it?

It was John who answered, though. “Timothy was a rescue we were unable to attend. Eos pulled the records and what he said was true. He lost his family. Any other day and we would have been there, but the Tsunami Disaster had all our attention.” A pause. “I am sorry.”

Scott started at that. “Hey, it was not your fault.”

A copper eyebrow arched. “Really? Do you want me to list exactly where our forces were deployed at that moment? It was Day Three. Scott was en route to Tracy Island for refueling, Virgil, you were asleep. Gordon had dragged you to the bunk on Two. He had threatened to tie you down. You were all down for the count. His call was one of twenty-three we couldn’t respond to on that particular day.”

“Johnny-“ Gordon held out a hand.

It was almost snapped off. “Don’t call me Johnny.”

“John.” Their father’s voice managed to be both warning and worried at the same time.”

His astronaut brother didn’t back down. “This isn’t out of the ordinary. It happens every day. It is happening now. People are dying because we are not there.”

“We can’t save everyone.” His father’s voice was firm.

“I know that, Dad.” John’s expression was exasperation itself. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”

Silence fell again and all Alan could think of was how this whole thing had been aimed at John and how it had obviously reached its target despite Timothy not succeeding in his plan.

Something was burning in his brother. He could see it from here. John was tense and agitated.

It was likely the drugs, but Alan just wanted to climb out of bed and hug him.

“Well now, I think, you could all do with something to eat.” Grandma squeezed John’s arm and he looked down at her as if snapped from a dream. “Don’t look at me like that, young man. I know you haven’t been eating.”

“What?” Scott sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing in on his brother. “John?”

The astronaut rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” And Grandma was nudging him towards the door.

His father stood up and followed.

Scott eyed Alan a moment, but stayed seated.

As their grandmother and father herded John out the door, Gordon took the opportunity to steal the chair beside Scott.

“Is John okay?” The words fell from Alan’s mouth before he could think twice.

Scott sighed. “He will be.” There was a silent ‘I hope’ after that.

“Eh, he’s just pissed Eos got found out.”

Alan blinked. “What?”

“Gordon!”

“Just trying to lighten the atmosphere. Cool it, bro.”

Alan frowned. “What?”

“Eos electrocuted a guard with his own comms circuit.” Gordon was smirking.

“What? How?”

“Upped the signal power enough to arc through his baldric.”

Alan stared at his brother. “She hurt him?” He turned to Scott. “She can do that?” To us?

“Don’t worry, it is not happening again.”

“He deserved it.” Gordon snarled the words. “Betraying us for money. He’s lucky it was Eos and not Kayo.”

Scott tilted his head. “Kayo hasn’t finished with him yet.”

Alan’s eyes were bugging out. “Who? And why?”

Scott sighed just a little. “The guard outside the dressing room was an accomplice.”

“One of our own?”

“Yes.” That single word said so much. Kayo wasn’t the only person angry at such a betrayal. No doubt whoever it was would have to face the Commander at some point.

Alan had faced an angry Scott before. Not an experience for the faint hearted.

“And Eos was able to electrocute him with his comms?”

“Brains is working on it as we speak. It won’t happen again.”

Scott would never be entirely comfortable with Eos. Alan had to admit he had a few issues of his own having had to scoop up his astronaut brother as he lay dying in space, because of her.

A hand landed on his. “It won’t happen again.”

Alan swallowed. “Good.”

“Well, we’re lucky it happened this once. John found traces of an alien computer program in the z band network. Brains is having conniptions. This one security breach could have destroyed everything.”

“But it didn’t.” Virgil’s voice was quiet, but strong enough to stop the conversation. “We’re all safe. It’s over.” Brown eyes flickered in his direction.

The same brown eyes that had closed on Alan as his brother died in his arms.

Anger flared up. “So, this security breach let Timothy do what he wanted and Virgil died because of it.” Three pairs of eyes widened at Alan’s sharp tone. “How did this happen? How did he get past all our security checks? Kayo is pedantic to the point that I sometime wonder if I’ll be allowed access to anything. How did we not know?”

“Allie, it’s okay.” Again, Virgil’s voice was soft. “We’ll fix it.”

“You died, Virgil!”

“No, I didn’t.” Those eyes blinked slowly.

“You did!”

“Alan!”

And he found himself breathing fast and hard. Scott was holding him down. Gordon had a hand on his leg.

“Calm down, Allie.” Intense blue eyes caught his. “Virgil is safe. You are safe. We will fix this.”

Alan stared up at his big brother, soaking in the reassurance Scott was broadcasting. A deeper breath and he willed his heart rate to slow. He swallowed and managed the briefest of nods.

“The guy had money and resources. Kayo will, no doubt, rake our entire security force over hot coals. We will learn from this experience and it will not happen again.”

“It should not have happened in the first place.” Alan found his voice cold and as Scott flinched, he knew it had hit home.

“Allie…” Virgil looked half asleep and Alan realised that he probably was. “We’ll fix this.”

Alan pressed his lips together and glanced between all three of his brothers before once again fixating on Scott.

“We better.”

-o-o-o-

Jeff dragged John out of the hospital room with the full intention of cornering him. The fact his mother came with them was only an inconvenience.

“Mom, could you run ahead and dig up some menus from the cafeteria and perhaps let the nurses station know that the boys are awake?”

His mother eyed him and arched a silver eyebrow. “Certainly.” A flick of that gaze at his son before she turned and walked off.

No doubt he would be paying for that one later.

But first he wanted to speak to John.

“Walk with me?”

The astronaut frowned at him, but nodded once.

Jeff cursed being so slow, but he led his son down to the hospital garden. Security made itself known as Iz appeared from nowhere and he caught a glimpse of Leone not far off. Kayo was laying it on thick, but he couldn’t blame her.

The garden was a small one and this late in the day, quite dark and empty. Most patients had been hustled off to bed and their visitors went with them.

If Iz was seen to lock the door behind them and secure the green patch for them alone, Jeff wasn’t going to argue, just this once.

He found a bench under a large shrub that gave them some privacy and ushered John to sit down beside him as he lowered himself on to the seat.

“Dad, I’m okay.”

“That seems to be a theme in this family even when it is a blatant lie.”

That shut his boy up for a moment.

Jeff sighed. “John, when I sent you up there, I knew it was going to be hard. I am sorry.”

“No, Dad. I knew what I was getting into. This is not your fault.”

“Isn’t it? Aren’t I hailed the creator of International Rescue?” He tried hard to catch those turquoise eyes, but John refused to look at him.“Pfft. The media. What do they know?”

That got a reaction. Copper eyebrows arched and his son looked up. Jeff took every advantage.

“I may have taken the first steps, but it is you boys who have kept it all going. Lived it. You’ve lived it for ten years. That is four times as long as I have and, trust me, I have guilt for those numbers.”

“Dad-“

He held up a hand. “No. This is where you listen, John.”

Something flashed in those eyes and Jeff’s lips twisted in response. “I set you boys on this path and you have succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. You have made both your mother and I ever so proud.”

John just stared at him, eyes a little wide.

“But there has been a cost. You carry scars that have me questioning every decision I ever made.” He swallowed, all of it suddenly threatening to overwhelm. He shifted in his seat. “John, I know you sit up there day in and day out with lives in your hands. I can see that every life lost has as much effect on you as it does your brothers and often even more so because you see more of them.”

Jeff paused and tilted his head. “What’s the average number?”

John blinked. “Excuse me?”

“How many lives are lost per day because we can’t respond?”

There was a flicker of the professional emergency responder and his son’s face fell calm. “Ten to fifteen. It varies. The number includes rescues that fail due to local authorities incapability, situations that become more severe than predicted on initial assessment and situations we can not attend simply because we do not have the resources.”

“And what do you tell these callers?”

“What I can.” John’s voice grew quiet. “We do our best, Dad.”

Little more than breath. “Exactly.” He held his son’s eyes and couldn’t help but see the young man he had once been during that cyclone all those years ago. That same youth and concern. That care for those he couldn’t help.

“What’s the average daily rescue count?”

John blinked. “Uh, it varies between ten and several hundred.”

It was Jeff’s turn to blink. “That many?”

John shrugged. “Well, the statistics were blown during the asteroid crisis with Fischler and the aurora generator was full of hypotheticals.” His son was frowning, his hands expressive.

Jeff grabbed them.

“If you had a choice, all over again, as to whether you would take this path or another, what would you choose?”

The frown he received was castigating. “Dad, that’s asking the ridiculous.”

“No, who do you save, John? Them or yourself.”

“That’s a stupid question. Of course, I, we, choose to save everyone we can. We do it every day, Dad.” His son looked offended.

“Even despite the cost?”

“Of course.” The offense turned to an expression questioning Jeff’s sanity.

“Why?”

“Because it is worth it, Dad. When someone calls for help, they have to know there is someone out there who will answer. That’s what I do, Dad. I’m The Voice Who Answers.”

Jeff couldn’t help but smile. His boys made him so proud. Worried, yes, but so, so proud. His own words from so many years ago, echoed back at him by the very son who enacted them on a daily basis. The son who sacrificed so much to be up there, apart from his family, apart from the world, just so he could do exactly that.

The Voice Who Answers didn’t even consider the question, a question.

Who do you save?

Everyone you can.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Alan Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Jeff Tracy #Grandma Tracy #Sally Tracy #nuttys fandomversary

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Fighting with Aliens”

So I wrote this to address a very interesting difference between humans and aliens because I realized it could potentially cause serious conflict if an outsider would to look on. Has fight scenes in it obviously, and blood, so there is that. I can foresee some of you not liking the outcome, so if you are easily bothered, probably don’t read this one.

Where was that man! She swore, every morning he was somewhere different. Like what kind of person has a schedule THAT erratic. She wondered how he even survived as a person without structure in his life. But then again, that’s what she was here for, to bring structure, and he very much desperately needed it.

She was determined that by the time she was done, he would have a schedule predictable to the minute.

That was, of course, if she could find him.

She swore that one of these days she was going to have to lojack that man, fit him with some kind of tracking system in his sleep so she could find him every morning.

Unfortunately, right now she was on her own, and was forced to start from the top down starting with the bridge then moving down to the administrative deck.

She rather hoped he might already be in his office, but when she found nothing she definitely kicked herself for being that stupid. Admiral Vir was NEVER in his office. In fact, he was notorious for avoiding it whenever he could.

Then again, Admiral Vir was notorious for a lot of things, and that was included but not limited to avoiding his office, wearing heelies on the job, making horrible dad jokes, blasting music on the bridge, and eating all the popsicles.

Simon herself was notorious for almost the exact opposite, her perfectly pressed uniform, her ability to be one time down to the minute, her tendency to get stressed when things didn’t go to plan, and her surprisingly frequent inability to understand the Admiral’s jokes.

It made her feel sort of bad considering that Even the little alien doctor Krill seemed to get it, and if there was anyone on the ship that she could understand, it was him. He had a schedule like a rock solid wall of dependability, a mind like a steel trap, and a sense of humor so dry and clever it ALSO went over her head.

She turned the corner brooding her face pulled down into a frown nearly running into a figure rushing in the opposite direction. She had to leap out of the way in surprise as Dr. katie, the dark haired bespectacled attending physician, yelped in shock.

“Dr Katie!”

Dr. katie put a hand over her chest, “Simon, you scared me half to death.”

Simon rubbed the back of her head a bit, “Sorry, um, do you have an idea where the Admiral is?”

“Oh Adam, yes I know where he is. I was actually headed down there right now if you want to join.”

Simon nodded and fell into step beside the tall doctor.

“I can never find him in the morning.”

“Yeah, no that does sound like Adam. If it helps, just head down to krill’s office one of these days, and we should be able to give you administrative access to his tracking system.”

“Wait, you-”

“Yeah sort of a precaution after he kept getting kidnapped so much, plus he has a habit of hiding when he gets stressed, which isn’t so much a problem these days, but in the past it was a real bitch to find him.”

Simon shook her head in near amazement as she followed Dr. Katie down a set of stairs and onto the crew deck.

They walked for a few meters when the sound of metal ringing on metal reached her ears.

She trailed after Dr. katie as they came around the corner into the massive Rec room at the center of the crew deck. She didn’t come here much and so would never have thought to look. She was rather awkward around people and didn’t know how to talk to them in a normal manner outside work related topics.

She had always been horrible talking to people, getting to know them, or bonding with them in general.

Humans weren’t exactly easy to understand.

So she tended to spend most of her time locked away in her office or in her room, or sitting on the bridge where she could work, where things were procedural, and memorizing notes and lists was a strength. When it came to work there were always protocols, measures to get things done, and a strict adherence to he rules. When it came to people, there was no telling what they were going to do: the Admiral being the prime example.

Generally Admiral Vir was not the kind of person she would like to spend time with. He was extroverted, outgoing, erratic, and high energy, but he was a very empathetic man, and he made up for most of the other things with patience and kindness towards her even when she didn’t allow it for herself.

In return, she had put all her effort into trying to understand him. She had observed, and watched and made lists and taken notes. She knew what he liked and what he didn’t like. She knew what people on the crew were his closest friends, she knew his favorite places to spend time.

She had a detailed profile written up about him in her personal log -- which never occurred to her could be misconstrued as being super super creepy.

Those were the reasons why she knew he was a science fiction nerd, he had a collection of old movies from the information age, he liked a mix of alternative, hard rock, heavy metal, and punk, when he ate his food he insisted on eating the items in order from least favorite to most favorite, he benched 270, and he talked with his family every friday night at six.

Of course that wasn’t exactly a comprehensive list, but just things she knew off the top of her head to better understand the man that she was working for She hoped that the more that she knew one day she would be able to understand him and work well with him without forcing him to hold her hand when it came to running his daily routine.

However, when she stepped into the rec room, she received a shock that she had not expected or really appreciated.

She wasn’t a big fan of surprises.

Yet this was, indeed, a surprise.

The rec room was large and circular inhabiting the very center of the fourth deck. The outer ring contained chairs and tables and TVs and pool tables, all of the sort of recreational things that normal people liked to do in their downtime, but in the center of that there was another large ring, bounded by walls on all sides and with benches looking inward.

Simon hadn’t been sure what that was for when she was first brought aboard the ship, though now she was getting a first hand demonstration as to its use.

Admiral Vir stood in the circle, lightly dressed and wearing hard leather padding on his head, shoulders, chest, arms, and upper legs. In one hand he was holding a metal staff just a little taller than he was.

His knees were bent in a low crouch, and the staff was held at a low forward angle.

On the other side of the ring stood one of the Drev clan members.

Flipping through her mental notes Simon remembered her name as Sunny or Chalan in her native language. She was the Chief weapons officer aboard the ship, was a mechanic, and rather short of a Drev. her and the Admiral tended to spend a lot of time together, and so she assumed that they were close friends.

However the part of this that surprised her tended towards the fact that, she didn’t know that Admiral Vir knew how to use a quarterstaff.

She froze in her place just as one of the watching drev -- a large red one named Cannon pronounced Kanan in his native tongue, slammed a metal spear against the ground to mark the beginning of the round..

Simon yeled in shock and surprise as the two charged at each other with roars, of what seemed to be rage -- though she had never been good at divining emotions.

Metal slammed against metal as the two crashed into each other. Sparks shed out to either side as they exchange a flurry of blows. He struck to the right, she parried to the left, she brought the right side of her spear up to try and catch him off guard, he spun away ducking under and jabbing forward. She blocked the jab to glance off to her right, and kicked out at him with one of her feet.

He dodged to the side and aimed a sheering blow at her head, which she caught last second on the shaft of her spear.

The fury of their fight left Simon reeling in shock and surprise. They didn’t pull their punches, they didn’t aim for the body only. This was full force, full speed, real weapons no holds barred combat!

In the stands Drev cheered them on with great enthusiasm. The humans that were watching had mixed feelings. Ramirez and Maverick were standing with the Drev screaming at Adam to get his head in the game and not be a wuss. Other humans were grimacing and wincing.

Dr. Krill st to the side looking exasperated at the same time he appeared at least sort of worried.

The Celzex onlookers were cheering with the frenzy of the Drev, yelling insults and encouragement to their favorite contender. A few of them were sitting on the shoulders of other enthusiastic, or, in some cases, concerned humans. THe FInnari huddled together around one specific human who looked to be having the time of her life comforting the tiny creatures.

And the Tesraki were nowhere to be seen, probably hiding or run away somewhere to count money.

Adam ducked under a cything blow that would have sent him straight to the emergency room and cut upward quickly, catching Sunny hard on the lower arm. She backed away showing no sign other that the blow had managed to phase her.

From there the fighting only grew more intense. From across the room Simon could hear the swish of the metal as it cythed through the air.

The clattering of steel hitting steel was practically deafening. SHe had no idea how the two of them were still fighting without their hands hurting.

And then Sunny feinted to her left passing into his blind spot where the epatch was.

He turned to face her, but she had already been moving.

A loud THWACK rent the air.

Admiral Vir’s feet left the ground as he was pitched back violently a good three feet before slamming into the ground. The metal rod was jostled from his hands and went clattering across the ring.

The cr4owd had taken to their feet as a chorus of sympathetic noises rose from both sides.

Simon stood in shock for a half moment as Admiral Vir groaned and crawled to his hands and knees.

Sunny approached quarterstaff raised.

Simon raced forward and jumped into the ring, hands held up, “STOP!”

Sunny pulled to a halt looking confused.

The crowd booed.

“What are you doing!” her voice went up a few octaves, not sure what was going on. Why was no one trying to stop this. Admiral Vir sat back on his heels, wiping blood from his mouth and chin, which was dripping down from his nose, “Simon.”

The Drev above her were frowning, “Get out of the ring lieutenant.”

“No, what-”

“You're interrupting a duel, get out of the ring.”

Simon turned in a confused circle, “But-”

Admiral vir stood, holding his nose waving a hand at the Drev, “Timeout guys, she’s not familiar with Drev war practices, so give her a break.”

The Drev backed down a little but still looked a little miffed as Admiral grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the circle, “May I talk to you for a few minutes.” He marched her out of the circle, a hand on her arm, face still bleeding. Katie offered him a gauze pad, which he held to his face as he walked her oer to a table and sat her down.

“Simon, I may have failed to mention this rule to you, but it is highly improper to intervene in a drev dueling match.”

Simon shook her head still reeling with confusion and horror, “But, Admiral, she hit you! Under section two subsection b of the UNSC manual it describes an act of violence on a UNSC ship as domestic battery.”

He coked an eyebrow, “You think Sunny just committed domestic assault, like punching your wife or husband or something.”

“Well yeah! Since we live on a ship, the UNSC classifies any aggressive action as domestic in nature.”

He sighed, “Simon, I am the leader of a Drev clan, I was adopted by two, which means I am a Drev and I must abide by their customs and rules.” He went to place a hand on her arm, but drew back after a moment knowing that she didn’t like to be touched, “Look, Simon, I know this is hard to understand, but the Drev aren't like us. To be Drev, to be friends with them, to be in a relationship with one if that were the case, means letting go of some preconceived human notions.”

“But hitting each other is not ok! She insisted

Admiral Vir shook his head in a long suffering sort of way, “Simon, you're looking at this through the scope of being human. If it were a human that hit me, by all means lock them in the brig. Because when humans are aggressive it is attached to anger, or frustration or aggression. But when Drev fight it isn’t attached to emotion, in fact their mating practices require them to duel each other. Drev relationships seen by humans are often violent and aggressive, but it's part of who and what they are. To them something like this is a sign of trust and friendship. You cannot judge them based on human standards any more than they can judge us based on our human ones.”

“But I-”

“Simon, I agreed to this. I walked in here this morning and I said, hey sunny want to beat the tar out of me. To them an offer like that is a good thing, its….. Well it means much more than what it means for humans. Besides, once upon a time I lived in a Drev village for a few months and was beaten up by pretty much everyone I Came in contact with. From their language and their culture, I have since gained a much different understanding of fighting. I have a different relationship with it now.”

Simon shook her head, this was difficult to compute. People hitting each other was bad, that was a rule, that was something that was black and white to her. She didn’t understand how this man could consider it a good thing, or even as a sign of friendship. It didn’t make sense in the framework of everything she understood.

He sighed, “Look, how about this, you trust me to know what is right and wrong when it comes to the Drev. Working with them I expect things to be aggressive, I expect them to be violent. Assume that everything they do is a low level of aggressive. A lot of people would look at my friendship with Sunny and think that something is wrong with it based on how it looks from a human perspective, but both of us have made compromises, and it is actually a very healthy thing we have going. Honestly if she pulled her punches and didn’t hit me in the dueling ring I would be offended.

Simon still wasn’t sure about this.

He tapped his fingers on the table, “Ok, this might help, the Drev society is based on a very specific set of rules. You should go talk to Cannon about it. Sunny isn’t going to hit me outside of a duel. To strike someone in anger is considered to be bad as well. As far as outside the ring, Drev are expected to be bossy, pushy, stubborn, and mildly aggressive, so Anything they do that falls within a scale of mild is alright.

He stood, “Now if you'll excuse me. I have a Drev’s Ass to kick.”

Dr. Katie took the gauze from his hand as he clamberted back into the ring, blood still staining his mouth and chin.

Simon watched nervously as sunny spun her staff around.

“Done taking your little break.”

He cracked his neck, “Done taking my break, and to make it even, I’ll start from the ground.”

She snorted and Cannon slammed his spear into the ground once again.

Admiral Vir rolled to the side, picking up his spear on the way as Sunny charged after.

She cut down towards his face, and he caught it on the flat of his spear kicking upwards and catching her in the knee.

She scrambled back.

He lept to his feet.

The fight went on like this.

Sunny got caught in the face once a shallow cut bleeding orange down her cheek, but instead of growing angry her eyes seemed to brighten with excitement. Admiral Vir took hits on the shoulder and the leg. Sunny got hit in the stomach and chest.

The fight continued, Admiral Vir was thrown to the ground. The Celzex were screaming in delight.

Sunny charged, but the admiral rolled forward thrusting the spear to roll along the ground before him.

Sunny was to late, her foot landed right on the shaft of the spear, and the spear rolled. Her leg slipped out from underneath her and she went crashing to the ground.

Admiral Vir leaped forward spinning the spear behind his back.

The room went quiet.

Admiral Vir Sat stradling Sunny’s chest one end of the quarterstaff to her throat.

He leaned in a little, “Better luck next time.”

The crowd Cheered.

Sunny raised her hands, “Good fight for a puny runt.”

“I could say the same about you he teased, rolling off to the side.”

Simon wasn’t really sure what to make of any of this. She still hadn’t managed to reconcile the fact that hitting wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because when Admiral Vir came out of the circle he was limping and still wiping blood from his face. If she had seen that on the street down on earth she would be very worried about him. She would call the cops.

But he was also smiling walking with Sunny as she limped right along with him.

The way they looked at each other was…. strange .

She couldn’t place it.

She would need to rework her profile of him just a little. And she would have to rework her profile of the Drev. it seemed as if she was going to have to learn a whole new set of social rules for the different alien species.

She sighed in frustration.

She hadn’t even figured humans out yet and now she was expected to do more.

This was going to be a very long deployment.

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austerulous-a · 3 years

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✦ @worstheir asked: ❛ what coping methods ( healthy or unhealthy ) did your muse learn during their childhood? ❜ // questions for muses who had a rough childhood

Between her abusive father, the low social standing of Eldians (to put it mildly) and the punishing trials of the military program, Annie couldn’t physically escape the main stressors of her childhood. Avoidance was never an option, neither was denial, and a painful lack of interpersonal skills meant she was incapable of actively seeking support from her peers. Given this absence, she developed other largely maladaptive coping strategies.

The most obvious is in her subservience to (and dependency on) Gabriel Leonhardt, a man more god than father. Desperate for his approval, for the reassurance that they were family – wanting, more than anything, to feel like she belongs – Annie learned to disconnect from her own emotions, and frequently suffered dissociate episodes. Whatever goals or dreams she might have had were never able to manifest; instead she existed to fulfil her father’s purpose, she lived for his acceptance, her value was inextricably tied to her performance.

Surrendering to Gabe’s authority, Annie was able to vent some of her frustrations during combat training (exercise is a coping mechanism she carries with her into adulthood). Relentless and exhausting, her father’s practices caused physical discomfort in the form of bruising, swelling, aching joints and broken toes. Pain was almost a relief, and she exhibited self-injurious behaviours, as well as developed excoriation disorder, meaning she would scratch and pick at her skin, as well as pull out her hair and eyelashes. These destructive habits were exacerbated by a sense of hopelessness and low self-esteem. Hurting was a way of feeling something, and there is a part of Annie that believes she deserves to suffer.

Aggression was not only directed inwards, but projected outwards, towards her peers, albeit most often within the context of military drills. Only once did she physically retaliate against her father, when she reached a breaking point and exploded in an outburst of violence that saw her savagely beat – and cripple – Mr. Leonhardt. After this, she reverted to absolute obedience, coming to the conclusion that the chains that bind her cannot be broken, only endured.

Astute though she is, Annie has also attempted to rationalise her father’s treatment of her. The abuse is born out of desperation, out of his desire for a more comfortable life – that is the sole reason he adopted her, after all – and when he lashes out it is because she has disappointed or infuriated him. Annie believes there is something in her, something lacking, that invites his violence.

#thanks for the ask plum! ♡#the more research i do the more i realise annie has been shaped by the traumas of her childhood #the long-term effects are undeniable:#isolation / withdrawal / loneliness #lack of trust / difficulty recognising or expressing feelings #an unhealthy relationship with food and her body / feelings of low self-esteem and self-worth #annie are you okay?#(she isn't)#i headcanon she made 1 (one) attempt to run away #and when she finally limped home her punishment was so severe she never entertained the possibility of escape again #there was nowhere to go anyway :')#✧ answered — ❛ i feed your words through my buttonholes / i pin them to my fingerless gloves ❜#worstheir #cw: dissociation #cw: violence

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blankdblank · 3 years

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It’s a Mother Flocking Puffin Pt 21

Barefoot in a heavily embellished fluffy layer crazy skirted gown, with a lace full length sleeved top, sheer save for the corseted bodice layered with embroidered flowers and vines all across it you stood in the center of what could only be a lake. Deeply you sighed lifting a surprisingly injury free hand to brush back the bangs blowing into your face on the breeze to the shift of toes on the lone rock you had landed on. This wasn’t the first time you had done this, as if your life couldn’t get more awkward in this tropical sort of paradise you kept zapping yourself off to when times got tough quite randomly somewhere you would find a new friend. Usually absurdly tall Elves or other massive animals who guided you on small adventures or train you to whatever craft they were practicing that you had stumbled across.

But the lake was new. The ocean you had dropped into but not this lake, in fact narrowing your eyes in another scan of the land around you those geode formed trees weren’t familiar either. Even the ground seemed to give off a golden sort of glimmering dust blowing around the shoreline looking far too course to be taken as sand. “Hmm,” the scent of mead and a feast was what forced you to turn fully around on that little island finding a cliff wall just covered in stone statues and runes you couldn’t place alongside weapons and the faces of beasts from one end to the other as best you could manage against its curve and break behind more of those geode formed trees.

Sharply you inhaled and said, “Fingers crossed there’s no pelicans this time.” Foot extending for ice to gather underneath for the start of the stepping stone bridge to the cliff wall.

Half a mile to shore the shadow of the wall fell over you for a stunning chill free path in this pleasantly warm mystery island you found. Even in the shadow the way ahead was clear thanks to the glimmering trails cast by fireflies floating off the tall grass your feet brushed through with flight paths in spirals around your gently glowing self. The heads of the figures carved into the cliffs grew white fluffy brows in the drop of the nearest clouds thanks to the growing breeze shifting directions that wanted away to where Manwe deemed them destined. The drift of musical notes lured your eyes downwards in a wonder to where it was coming from.

Off to your right however the sudden plop of a boulder into the lake had you lifting your skirts allowing the lick of water to spill over your bare feet then recede again to the roll of the new addition towards the shore. Hunched and dull in its split apart an elderly Dwarf began to straighten up on its feet again. The more it did backwards the clock turned with youth seeped into each crack and crevice until alive again the limber younger form of the Dwarf smiled to itself on its eager steps ahead following the same sent their bulbous curled mustache framed nose had caught a whiff of.

Three more stones fell under and rose up to the surface of the same mirror like lake while you hurried a couple steps around a waking badger in its den you were passing hoping not to scare it. Curiously at the sight of you it began to follow along right with the clicking Ravens and Crows above on tiny ledges in the wall hopping forward as you did to keep you in view. Between the legs of one of the figures what appeared to be a wall wasn’t and timidly you walked onward still following the Dwarf now smiling at discovering the hidden doorway that with a hand out you noticed was an illusion hidden archway using the wall behind a narrow entrance hall to complete said disguise. To the right it branches and wound a half turn back jaggedly to open into an endless mountain city. Layers upon layers of floors with fires and joyous Dwarves were to be seen.

“Ahem,” behind your back a burly Dwarf look you over at your prompt glance back.

“Sorry,” you replied with a quick step aside into the hall along the wall. The Khuzdul you spoke however had his eyes fixed on you through your quick flash of a grin. “Taking it all in.”

Stepping inwards he kept his eyes on you allowing the two behind him through to trot ahead in search of someone of something they clearly were expecting. “Hmm, could have sworn I knew you.” His head bowed and curtly he turned and strode past you with grin returning headed to who knows where.

Head tilted slightly again your eyes rose and fell admiring each carved pillar and statue coating the sections of floors with colored glass shifting shades in each of the brave steps you took forward. Once past the first landing down three broad steps you almost had to hop to reach the next in a somewhat graceful way without hiking your skirts all the way up thanks to your little legs the Dwarves behind you took with some irritating sense of ease even in their own heavily layered skirts. A soft breath left your lungs on the edge of a grand ballroom packed with those dancing, feasting and drinking encircled by those sharing grand tales and raucous jokes.

Didn’t take long however for eyes to shift your way in return and off in a distant corner a shoulder was tapped to nod one of the burliest to come and inspect the newcomer. One low hanging decoration turned you around to the wall to get a better look on its gradual spin around the tile you had stepped onto. With a gasp however when you turned back a familiar pair of blue eyes had fallen upon you.

“Durin, you’re, I know you’re him.”

Gruffly he replied in Khuzdul also stunned at you’re knowing his mother tongue. “You seem awfully certain of that.”

That had you giggle and step off of the tile to avoid the decoration passing between you smiling up at him, “No I know you I’ve seen your face on portraits and statues all through the Palace in Erebor and even one in the Iron Hills.”

Ever so slightly his eyes narrowed causing his dark brow to furrow in the process, “I do not know of this Erebor you speak, and these Hills,”

“Well, I’m not fairly certain the exact dates, but your clan moved from the Grey Mountains to a new Kingdom named Erebor, it’s near the Greater Greenwood.” He shook his head, “It’s just past the Misty Mountains kind of North to Rohan and Gondor, if you sort of curve,” you said with a curve of your hand after points on some imaginary map between you involuntarily making the corner of his mouth tick upwards. “Look, I’m not an expert on schematics of where you have dwelled, but your family rule over Erebor, Dale, a sub city of Erebor, and Moria as well as the Blue Mountains, and King Nain rules over the Iron Hills so I think that means he’s either one of your relatives or married into your clan. So I think that counts too.”

“You said Nain?” You nodded and he turned, “Gorpumbden!” (‘Gather my whiskers!’) “Fetch Rtain! The little Lass knows his grandson!”

Outwardly he was smiling now and asked in the rush of one group of Dwarves rushing off to fetch the Dwarf while his hand motioned to guide you onwards back to his own private table with his wives from his lifetimes and their children and all the generations of grandchildren milking about nearby with their own broods. “Tell me, who else do you know from my line, Little Lass?”

“Oh, well, I’ve met nearly everyone in Erebor, well you see, it’s sort of,” you sighed and he glanced over your confused pouting moment luring grins on the faces of others you passed through across the dance floor matching his timed steps to do so with ease between bounding couples. “Ok, I’ll start here, I met my One, Thorin II, son of Thrain and grandson to King Thror. I’m not certain how far down your line they are, and well we weren’t married at first. But then we met and I sort of bumped into him and I thought I’d have a heart song but I never heard one but it turned out these freckles on my back were a Mate Mark,” you said lifting your wrist to show off the bracelet spreading his smile admiring the craftsmanship. “And he’s been so kind to me, whole clan has really, I had some trouble with my adopted clan but then he helped with that too.”

You had reached the table and he faced you asking, “And just how far has young Thorin II reached in his courting of you, Little Miss?”

“Oh we had to elope, so technically we’re married but we’ve picked a cottage and are designing rings and I made him some love spoons.”

Adoringly his hand reached out to cradle your lifted hand inspecting your wedding band, “How precious. I do not know the pain he must suffer at your place here. Though as part of my clan you are amply welcome to wait for him amongst us.”

Rtain arrived beaming and eager to hear more about his son and grandson that you had met through the service only stirring up more confusion for how a clearly non-Dwarf had made it to the Halls of Mahal. A familiar passing Dam had your mouth drop and you said, “Celeste!” Draped in yards of velvet in fuchsia over her pastel pink gown she had been painted in, her hazel eyes scanned over your waving and smiling self, “Oh don’t you look lovely. That is a fitting color on you. Really compliments your mustache.”

Three confused steps later and she reached your table while the males behind you grinned at your bubbly self just blooming in this social circle of their clan and others you had known from portraits in passing. “Forgive me, but I do not seem to be able to place your name.”

“Oh, you don’t know me, Jaqiearae Pear,” you said extending your hand with the name making a Dam dancing stumble and straighten to look you over having recognized the name. She accepted the handshake and you added, “I married into your clan, I’m designing my ring after yours. Hope you don’t mind it is stunning.”

Widely she smiled and accepted a spot beside you to talk about the ring now a ghostly glimmering copy on her finger of the one back in the vault back at the Palace. After the discussion of band changes and her blessing was given she asked in an almost pained tone, “How did you find yourself here?”

“Well, that’s a bit of a winded answer, but, Melkor hated my clans and sent others by some oath after he was killed to attack them. My parents went into hiding but they found them anyways and killed them.” Beards bristled and fists clenched the more you shared, “And I was adopted by a Noldo in Numenor. Then I got accepted to University in Dale where I met Thorin’s nephews Fili and Kili my roommates. They took me along for a break to the Palace where I met the rest of your clan there and bonded with Thorin. Since then they’d helped me to find my birth family. Then this morning the followers of Melkor remaining brought a Fire Drake to the school. And last I remember Thorin just got back to the Palace and was eating while I spoke to Fili and Kili through tea, then I was in the lake. And I heard all of you.”

After a solemn moment from them you asked, “Your clan has faced coups for centuries, a lot of people got hurt and could have died when they were after me, how am I supposed to live with that weight?”

Hands were laid on you and several shared words of wisdom on their own experiences with acceptance of that same weight until Durin asked, “The Beast was brought down?”

You nodded, “I shot him with a wind lance,” rippling proud smiles your way.

“Mahal’s Beard! Very good!” More than one of the clan exclaimed.

“Didn’t take very long, though everyone was scared and Bagheera especially was upset.”

That had his beard puffing up and him smiling widely, “You saw my Bagheera?”

“Yes, he’s back at the Palace. Probably won’t be glad for me to miss a meal. Sometimes it takes days for me to get back from these islands.” Lips parted in confusion for what you meant, “Though this is a first time here and I wasn’t expecting all of you. Not that I don’t-,”

“There you are Little One,” beaming through the crowd that barely reached his hip Tulkas strolled through the dancers with hand outstretched for yours, “I presumed you would meet me by the wading pools, but Manwe’s companions took notice of your waking here.”

“Oh, I have to go,” you said laying your hand on the outstretched one from Tulkas and said to Durin and the others, “It was so amazing meeting you. Perhaps I can wander back here again sometime.” To Durin especially you said, “I’ll give Bagheera some fruit for you. I know he misses you terribly.”

Speechless they watched while Tulkas faded to mist and in a small snow flurry you were gone leaving the Dwarves more confused than ever. A state that had the First Born on his feet in a curious search for Mahal in his wife’s gardens to ask about the curious visitor.

Hand over his mouth Fili woke to Kili’s tug on his mustache and in a turn of his head he knew why he was woken. Across your skin faintly glimmering clan lines mapped out the stretch of your bloodline to the Eldar on your already glowing skin. And sweet and low Khuzdul eased from your lips in half hearted sighs echoing of your deep deep wandering dream none but you could shake yourself from. Taps on Thorin’s nose had his soft snores halting and eyes patting in time to hear your next murmur of, “Durin.” Wide eyed he sat up joining the boys, the younger of whom was already recording your side of the conversation that ebbed in and out only giving part of your side of it confusing them all the more why you were dreaming of talking to their clan father.

Through the door the Emperor peered having heard your voice and from there in his step into view he said, “I see My Yuula is speaking with her friend Meldamalta again.”

Thorin asked, “This is common? For her to speak in her sleep?”

At that the Emperor grinned to himself replying, “That is no ordinary sleep. My Yuula has taken Olórë Mallë, and her fea is within Valinor.”

Fili’s mouth dropped open, “Her soul-!!”

Kili clasped his hands over his brother’s mouth looking to you undisturbed still deep in sleep and the Emperor stated in his move closer, “She cannot hear you, when she was a child I realized as a Vanyar her path to Valinor is much easier than other Elven races might find it. The pathway is a mental one that through the link in her mind her fea may travel there at its whims. When she was younger she was often gone for days at a time, and always after times of troubling circumstances. The Valar will not allow harm to find her there it is quite safe.”

Thorin wet his lips and asked, “She is speaking to Durin though. Not any Meldamalta.”

The Emperor’s lips pursed, “Hmm, perhaps due to your marriage she is allowed there. Often she finds herself in different areas of the Valar’s control, Meldamalta will find her.”

Kili, “Who is Meldamalta?”

The Emperor answered quite matter of factly, “Tulkas.” Dropping their jaws, “Upon her first visit there My Yuula informed me she met a kind giant being with golden hair she couldn’t understand who allowed her to braid a crown of Marigolds into his hair and call him Meldamalta. He is quite fond of her, and his son enjoys their times in Nessa’s gardens.”

Fili, “You’re telling me Jaqi is friends with the Valar Tulkas?”

The Emperor answered, “He loves children and has watched her grow. They all have.”

Kili, “She would have told us! I would have told her if I knew Mahal!”

Thorin asked, “She only knows him by Meldamalta?”

“Correct,” was his answer.

Fili chortled, “You have to be joking! How could she not know! You know!”

The Emperor simply pointed and on the headboard where they hadn’t noticed Bagheera was seated puffed up with golden eyes glowing. “Each trip once she had woken once I had recognized the gardens and lands she had explored and faces of those guiding her and teaching her skills in each try to share where she had been he would stop me. She is not ready to know yet it would seem. Though in my teaching her Valinorian he has calmed to my learning of her travels at least and the times have lessened in her being able to converse with them. They grant her council where my expertise is limited.”

Kili, “Why don’t you go with her?”

“Noldo are forbidden re-entrance to Valinor since the departure from those shores without Valar permission. I grew up in those lands and as a child my parents brought me here. Though I have never witnessed the Halls of Mahal myself, in fact I cannot name an Elf ever noted to have traveled there. It must be due to your union.”

“Celeste,” the name turned their heads and Thorin smiled guessing as the others had why you would speak to her, namely the ring you would share stirring up questions if you would mention them as well to their ancestors.

Fili mused, “Great Gran will be so pleased she went to the Halls of Mahal to wedding plan.”

The Emperor said, “You can rest she will share her adventures upon her return.”

Kili, “So she just knows she has long dreams?”

“No, it is very much a physical journey for her. Several times she has stated she simply wakes up in odd locations in beautiful gowns.”

“Meldamalta,” you sighed out and they blinked curious to know should they arrive in those hallowed halls which Valar they might come to know themselves.

The Emperor chuckled and stated, “You should get some more rest been a long day and she won’t be screaming.” He said to the steady sighed Valinorean wafting out of you like a sweet hummed lullaby that took the trouble out of their drift back to sleep, right away they felt the physical urge to lay back down cuddled around you eased off to their own dreams again. Leaving just the Emperor eyeing Bagheera who he asked softly, “She is growing stronger?”

The owl fluffed up and let out a low chirp in an affirmative response as he usually did for the adoptive father’s question he had repeated through the years in wait while the Valar bolstered your hope and strength. And while he was mostly correct in his assumptions the owl was not keeping him from telling you the name of the beings you had been conversing with but trying to tell him that you already knew deep down just not believing it to be really true. Fear was what he was protecting you from, any fear or possible shame taken in any slight imagined and that path could be lost to you forever without the knowledge of how you were actually sending yourself there.

Though an adult on technicality you were very much a child and far from knowledgeable on deeper things you had not been taught by the elders of your clans as you should have had Melkor not struck his deadly blow. A child with strength you didn’t understand to master without their help all these years with just among the remaining lessons to share how you were waking in those sacred lands. They did miss you when you were away, but the time in between showed such heart warming strength brewing inside you, this time all the more in having arrived in, for all your other kin, an impossible place. But Tulkas had you now and he was assured the master dueler of the Valar would enjoy the story and send you on your way home back to him again. Hoping to himself that even in his exile they might not think too harshly of him now that he’d grown from the boy they once knew.

Smiling widely in the gardens with your friends you sat talking while seated on a blanket for the picnic readied for you while the smiling Valar listened to the whole detailed story on the Drake luring the Elves serving under the cuddling couple across from you to come and listen. Loudly Tulkas laughed with pride for his youngest pupil while Nessa beamed at the clear passing of her swiftness lessons beyond just words that you had picked up in training on your own. His bravery and feats of strength and her agility and speed having aided in your success amongst lessons with Ulmo for the obvious control of water. The others far less obvious in their lessons, granting aid more in tasks and mini adventures during your stays in Valinor, rather hoped to present a chance to find those traits within yourself.

Although a few of their pupils, including one from Aule had aided greatly in the growth of your wood working craftiness, Celebrimbor in a new form had found himself in your path and in those bright eyes of yours found a kindred soul he wished to help and took to teaching you the basics. Among those pupils was Ecthelion of the Fountains, here again relaxed listening to your tale smiling with the others flute beside him in its carrying pouch that he had used to help teach you on the instrument between two more of your music instructors self assigned to ensure some time with spectacular you. No shortage of pupils had prided themselves on passing on what they had learned and a bit more on discoveries of their own to maybe aid you one day.

Off beyond a row of hedges through a disguising stream of water off a fountain a couple stood staring longingly at their child back here again, Jewels cuddled against her husband Lindo’s chest, both smiling faintly that their baby girl was growing so much stronger by the day. Even more so having brought them justice by searching out their attackers, whom Mandos was now taking personal attention to doling out Manwe’s orders for their atonement.

Both parents formerly in their unrest unable to travel here themselves since the date Mahal aided in their resting memorial in Erebor, now had a sort of physical form here in these lands to aid in their coming to terms with their own grief for all they, their clans and you had lost. They adored being close to you for so long however without a proper resting memorial from you they could not have visited you here until now, and even still they were fearful of approaching not to keep their precious girl from returning to her new life, the one you had fought so hard to build and defend.

Behind them however Este crept closer and hushedly began to speak with the pair sharing what they had missed through your trips here. “You will be strong enough to meet again one day, the three of you, you will,” she spoke softly warming their hearts as they nestled closer watching a bright smile split across your face laughing along with Tulkas and Nessa to a joke from their son.

Hours you had lingered and the same telling creep of bluebell vines towards your hand set aside gave you the same gut clench feeling that it was time to go. The look always was evident on your face and smiling still the crowd bid you safe travels. Up you stood with another ring of marigolds in hand you eased onto the glowing golden ringlets Tulkas had tied back from his face with ribbons from his beloved wife. In releasing the crown your fingers curled back in a slow recoil of your hovering hands recalling the first crown you had given him and the meeting of all the larger beings here you had once been unable to understand at all. His eyes lingered on your face with smile still in place through his thanks knowing things were clicking into place on who he was.

And softly you asked, “Are you really Tulkas?” Deeper his smile set in sinking more into his eyes at the bubbling courage in your gaze in asking, “Can I still call you Meldamalta?”

Tenderly his hands rose to cradle yours, “I have been and always will cherish being your Meldamalta.”

On his side Nessa eyed the still creeping bluebells reaching for your legs in your spring forward to loop your arms around his neck, eyes clenched in a tight embrace stirring a deep chuckle to his arms laying across your back, “Thank you for finding me.”

“Ooh now, Little One, you were the one to find me.” His words accented with a brush of fingers against your cheek in your step back brushing away the invisible trail of the tear threatening to fall from the corner of your eye holding it in place somehow.

Nessa smiled adding in her own taking of your hand, “The most welcome snow flurry in our lands, most precious Little One. Your bluebells are calling you to wake.”

Looking down you asked, “How do I keep arriving here?”

She smiled saying, “We have yet to travel that road, only Irmo would know.”

And up you looked finding Manwe approaching to the winding of a vine of bluebells around the layers of skirts folding in around your legs the more they climbed, “Fly safe, brave little Nique-Puifíní. And pray do inform Winge we have greatly missed his company here, his parents might have chosen to sail from these shores, an innocent to their oath, and welcome to return upon finding that doorway of dreams.” Like sinking into a well his voice began to muffle and echo in your ears to the clench of your eyes while from the feet up back into your flurry you shifted. Vana smiled in her stroll through the garden again in another try to find how you were entering these lands exactly to solve the sort of game Irmo had made in keeping the secret of how you arrived here each time.

To the opening of the door by a Butler entering to feed your fire at your side against Thorin’s side from your straight upwards position into him you leaned resting your head against his forehead. The sharp pain in your ribs stopped your wiggle into his side and when your ribs throbbed again a crack of your eyelid not being touched by a strip of his brushed up hair and softly you grumbled which drew a stirring breath from Thorin releasing his own grumble. Off behind his back however the Emperor whispered in a reach over him with dropper in hand containing medicine to help with the pain you were facing, “To ease your pain.” Groggily you parted your lips and with three drops on your tongue he drew back the dropper to add back to its bottle with a kind grin.

After wetting your lips you said, “I know Meldamalta’s real name now, remembered it.” Easing out his smile, “I was asked, Manwe says they miss you,” parting his lips, “Said you are always welcome back when you find the doorway, your parents swore the oath not you.”

Tearily he smiled again, “Thank you for telling me that. How are you feeling?”

“My head itches,”

“Bunnanunê,” Thorin rumbled through a deep inhale beginning to shift to prop himself up pressing a gentle kiss to your mildly bruised cheek between the scrapes there. “You are awake.”

“Just the one night?” You asked and he smiled.

“Just the one, are you in pain?”

“Not so much pain that I have to wash my hair.” Thorin nodded and with the stirring of the boys the bench brought earlier was moved to the side of the tub in a painful shrug he removed the sling hindering his ability to tend to you fully and scooped you up gingerly carrying you to the bath to lay you down on the bench. With care Fili held your neck while Kili turned on the water as Thorin undid your braid to the Emperor easing the bowl of healing oils and creams over with sleeves rolled up and comb in hand to begin recoating those cuts and scrapes aiding in some of the discomfort right away.

From the bottom to top the water was run stopping two inches from your scalp with Thorin tenderly lathering your shampoo lovingly into each curl watching the bloody grimy suds flowing down soon washed away revealing those awe striking curls. Without so much as a tug he wrung out the water he could and with Fili holding the blow dryer, certain to keep aimed away from your scalp that Kili held a hand towel against to act as buffer for the spare heat while the Emperor held you upright. Once dry your courting braid was added again with ribbon and bell intact to match the gentle tug free braid Thorin settled into your hair to keep it in place.

“Thank you,” you whispered in Thorin’s move to settle into your view again smiling at your relieved grin.

Kili however blurted out, “Weird dreams? You talk in your sleep.”

Fili smiled bursting with questions of his own to your weak chuckle, Thorin however scooped you in his arms again saying, “Back to bed, you can share there cozy in bed.”

Around you the group nestled you back in your former place with towel removed from over your pillow stained by your hair added to your empty hamper while covers settled around your waist and Sir Akdâmuthrab clambered over post stretch to plop down on your lap to sleep there instead of far below your feet. By now Dis, Vili, Dwalin and Balin had come to check on you and settled onto the end of your bed having come to check on you to send for your first meal of the day before the Doctors would arrive.

“So, I met Durin,” you started and in the growing group of their kin while the triplets continued to nap against your legs having been set down by their parents having scooted closer to grant more room for others to hear everything.

Kili, “How’d you get there?”

“I, don’t know. I never land in the same place when I go there, but this was the first time I woke up there. I think they thought I was dead. Must have,”

Vili asked, “Have you met Mahal?��

“I don’t know, I know Meldamalta is Tulkas, Manwe is obvious shroud in feathers, the others I am not certain. I might have, there are a few who look similar to etchings I’ve seen on display here, then there are others who are more, not feelings, that’s not the word…”

Dis said, “Un-bodied ones?”

That you nodded to, “Even Meldamalta’s son at times chooses to present out of his body. Mahal’s Halls none of your kin were like that, I think it was just the Elven lands. Even Celebrimbor held our lessons out of himself before as well. He might have been there, sorry to disappoint.”

Thorin’s hand laid on yours, “Oh no, no disappointment at all. Only few of our kin have returned from those halls, each tale is treasured.”

Gloin asked, “Would you mind us calling uncle Nain? Letting him know about his grandfather meeting you?”

“No, is he in the clan by blood or marriage, I didn’t know.”

Thorin smiled again as Frerin answered, “His Amad is of our line, but Firebeards and Longbeards have always been close.”

Your eyes drifted to Dis, “Celeste seemed happy hearing I chose her ring. And the keeper of yours told me to tell you,” for a moment your brows furrowed in repeating the mouthful of words slowly, “Mire the Spring?”

Dis smiled to Vili who explained, “A joke on how my Spring proposal was as troubled as hers had been.”

She patted her hand on your legs, “A good sign, thank you for the message.”

Through them a tray was brought in to rest on top of your lap for the meal the rest of the clan shared their plans for the day to help settle things of their own charge throughout the kingdom to aid in the recovery of the populace from this stunning attack while those in other kingdoms were doing the same. Doctors did follow after and with a sigh you settled into bed as Thorin was off to his own rooms for a private second inspection of his own wounds and warm bath to freshen up before his few tasks of the morning between him and his evening in with you.

Pt 22

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

#Path Of Dreams #Ollore Malle #Valar #Durin the Deathless #Celeste #Dain's Family #Lost Loves #Afterlife #Halls of Mahal #Gardens of Tulkas #Meldamalta #Back Again #Pass on Messages #Tend to the Hair #Back to Bed #Thorin x Reader OC #Vili x Dis

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quagmiremarch · 3 years

Text

The Lies We Tell to Find Our Truth, Part 2/3

[This is for Day 2 of YOI Regency Week ( @yoiregencyweek) -Forbidden Love. And yes, I know it’s Day 4. Life happened. Cross-posted to AO3. ]

Mr. Victor Nikiforov tapped his tight pensively as his carriage wove the long path to Yu-Topia Katsuki, the inn apparently run by the parents of one Mari Katsuki. And also, Victor had discovered in his inquiries about the young lady, of a son, Yuuri Katsuki, a fact that had Victor most confounded, and if he were so bold as to admit such, hopeful.

It had long been at issue that Victor’s station came with a series of obligations, most notably those to marry and produce heirs. Truly, such expectations should not have bore so heavily upon his shoulders as they did, for they were reasonable accommodations to meet.

Were it not for Victor’s disinclination towards those of the feminine sort. He bore no ill-will for women, of course. Many were perfectly delightful company. He simply found himself lacking in any romantic notions in their direction. A truth that would prove most scandalous in society were it to be known, but one he bore no ability to change.

Mari Katsuki. He’d seen the woman looking perplexed at the table and simply sought to aid her in navigating the unfamiliar societal currents. He had known, of course, of her essentially common status, the honorary title granted her family hardly sufficient for her attendance at the ball. The gossip of her invitation had therefore spread like a blaze through the event, marking her something of a curiosity, and lamentably, a target, for the less gentlemanly of nobles.

Finding her to be charmingly shy one moment and delightfully passionate the next as they moved from polite courtesies into topics of conversation familiar and fond, Victor thought, perhaps he had finally stumbled upon a match. Perhaps the exchange of a rise in station paired with a genuine enjoyment in her company might make a marriage, even if it remained chaste one, between them, something other than a chore for both parties.

That as the night lingered Victor found himself appreciating the depth of her eyes, the shape of her smile, proves a much unexpected and confusing surprise. But, not unwelcome. While heirs might be managed without a true sharing of the marriage bed, or so he’d heard whispered among the few other nobles that shared his inclinations, life would be made much enriched should such lengths prove unnecessary.

Victor felt it most prudent to act upon such good fortune and ask to call upon the young Miss Katsuki, but even as he’d attempted to gain permission to do so, the young Lord Chulanont had intruded. That he did so while addressing a ‘Yuuri’ had not, in fact, slipped Victor’s notice.

What circumstance, however, that might have led to the young Master Katsuki attending the ball, Victor could not imagine. But, he found he dearly hoped that just that had happened for it would explain much about that evening.

Regardless, in less than an hour’s time, he found himself on the steps of Katsuki Yu-Topia. The first person to greet Victor is a tiny older woman with a round face and familiar smile. It is most obvious that Mari, or perhaps it is Yuuri, inherited much in their appearance from their mother.

Victor offered a polite bow. “Good morning. My name is Victor Nikiforov. I know this to be perhaps improper given the lack of notice, but I had hoped I might call upon your daughter?”

Already large brown eyes went wide, but the woman merely nodded as she wiped her hands on a towel. “Mari is tending to the guests. Can I make you some tea to tide you over until she might be free?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

The woman nodded, gesturing for Victor to exchange his shoes for comfortable slippers before proceeding further inside. Victor followed quietly as she led him to a quiet room with a low table and cushions on the floor. It was a foreign style, but one Victor had seen before in his travels. He took the indicated cushion with another polite bow.

“The tea will be ready in just a moment. I apologize for the wait.” “Please,” Victor said, waving off the words, “it is I that should offer apologies for arriving without notice.”

The woman smiled kindly with a nod and bustled away, leaving Victor to enjoy the quiet of the room and the delicious smells that found their way to him from parts further in the inn. Perhaps he should take lunch while here as well. Should his marriage prospects not pan out as he hoped at least the trip would not be completely wasted.

Much sooner than he anticipated, Victor heard the scuffling of slippered feet, a sound that pulled him from his daydreams of new foods, and looking up, to fall into the depths of dearly missed vibrant brown eyes. Eyes that most definitely did not belong to a Miss Mari Katsuki, but to a lovely bespectacled young man. A most flustered and red-faced young man at that.

“Ah.” Victor said, smile bright. “Yuuri. You will come and join me, won’t you?”

Mister Katsuki went most still, hands trembling and setting the tea tray he carried to clattering softly. “I..Mister Nikiforov, I--” “Duke Nikiforov, most technically,” Victor said as he stood and took the tray from Yuuri’s hands. If he perchance happened to brush his fingers against the other man’s as he offered his aid, well, that was, of course, mere happenstance. “But, I think we have perhaps moved past such formalities, have we not, Yuuri?” He spoke the name with emphasis, tone soft and tinged with a hint of longing for the boy had been lovely in a dress and curls, but radiant here with his silken soft hair ruffled and the coat and pants of his uniform leaving little of his strong thighs and trim figure to the imagination.

Yuuri seemed to collapse inwards, head bowed and the beautiful face hidden. “I am most sorry. I never meant to cause offense or to--” Victor caught his chin in one hand, lifting the down-turned face up so that he might meet those beautiful brown eyes. “I am not angry. Simply tell me truly, it seemed some attraction had been shared between us. Was that also a ruse?”

A vibrant blush overtook Yuuri’s face, starting in the cheeks and flowing both upwards to his ears and down, past the long line of his throat. Victor found his gaze most entranced, his mind wandering quite improperly to how far the flush might extend, and in what other circumstances he might see it form.

“Ah...” Yuuri looked away in so much as Victor’s hold on his chin allowed. “I mean, such a thing would be most scandalous, of course, and I would never wish to besmirch such a noble name as--” Victor pressed firmed on the warm, soft skin under his palm, bringing the other man indecently close, close enough that their noses nearly touched and their breaths mingled as one. “I care not for what the gossip-mongers might say, tell me, yes or no, my Yuuri. Was it real?”

A gasping hitch of breath and a long swallow filled the silence before Yuuri managed a gentle, barely whispered, “Yes, it was real. But it’s forbidden.” More words might have followed, but Victor stole them away, pressing his lips gently to Yuuri’s own. At first, just a gentle touch, it soon grew more fervent, both men caught in the warmth and passion of the moment.

A moment most rudely broken by a rough cough from the doorway. There stood a solidly built woman with short cut hair clad not in a proper dress, but the same garb adorning Yuuri himself. “Am I to assume then, Mister Nikiforov,” the woman drawled, voice amused and dry, “that it is my brother and not myself you have come to call upon then?”

Victor felt warmth rush to his cheeks, but managed to keep his expression unaffected as he turned Yuuri in his arms, his back to Victor’s front, so they might both address the woman. “Miss Mari Katsuki, I presume? A pleasure to meet you. Tell me, how do you feel about getting married?”

Mari and Yuuri bore identical expressions of surprise at those words, and it tickled Victor to see. With a small laugh he held Yuuri ever the more tightly, and met Mari’s eyes. “I believe, Miss Katsuki, that you and I might be able to help one another, if you will listen?”

A raised eyebrow was his only response, but she did not leave, nor did she chastise them for the affection on display, which Victor took as a most hopeful sign. And so, with a deep breath, he began to lay out his plan, one he hoped would end with the beautiful man he held, forever allowed to say within his arms.

#yoiregencyweek

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themalhambird · 3 years

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As Plantage to the Moon.

Chapter One.

If Anne had realised the impossibility of finding werewolf- friendly accommodation in central London she wouldn’t have bothered applying for the internship. Normally a prodigious researcher, the idea of a summer to acclimatise herself to England before she started at Oxford in September had been lure enough to neglect properly considering the logistics. The opportunity to work for Sir Simon Burley whilst doing so had banished any remaining inclination to stop and think things through from her mind. The thought of starting her law degree with eight weeks of work experience under one of the most pre-eminent Supernatural Rights Lawyers in the United Kingdom had consumed her like a siren’s song; images of the advantages- intellectually, professionally, socially- that such an experience could arm her with had permeated every waking moment until she had submitted her application. It had not been until she had been accepted (and she had made her mother, father, older brother, and sister in law all read the email for her to quintuple check she had been accepted) that the problem of where she would stay finally hit her.

Oxford had Halls specifically for werewolves- but until term started, that was of no use to her. And so Anne had spent weeks trawling the internet, trying to find a house-share or a flat or a hotel or a hostel that would suit. But everything was either astronomically expensive, or in a hideous state of disrepair, or both. She had checked from the furthest ends of all eleven underground lines inward- nothing. And so, regretfully, she had emailed Sir Simon to inform him that unfortunately, she would no longer be able to accept the position he had so kindly offered her.

She had assumed that that would be that. To her surprise, he had emailed her back to ask if there was anything that he could do that would enable her to accept the position as she had planned. Somewhat embarrassed, Anne had explained the problem of living arrangements. The following day, Sir Simon replied to tell her that one of his closest friends lived within an easy distance of London. Ned Plantagenet and his family made up one part of a much larger pack; his house and grounds were large; they were more than happy for Anne to come and stay as a guest. Ned had met Anne’s grandfather once and both men had survived the experience with minimal scarring- a negligible connexion in human terms perhaps, but from the werewolf point of view it was enough for the respective families to be considered friendly acquaintances. If Anne was happy, Burley would put them in touch. Anne had been more than happy. She had been ecstatic that everything had worked out so well after all- but stepping off the train and on to the platform at St. Pancress, there wasn’t a trace of that excitement left. She felt sick with nerves, her stomach twisting in knots as an uncomfortable urge to whine built in her throat. She felt assaulted from every direction by the press of people, the crush of their scents- the smell of food- the stench of vermin-

Another wolf.

Anne’s gaze snapped in the direction the scent was coming from. A small cluster of people stood a little way back from the ticket gates, holding placards with names on them. Anne’s eyes fell on a motherly looking woman. Tall, fat, strikingly beautiful, she held Anne’s name in one hand and the smile that graced her lips when her gaze met Anne’s own suggested pearly white canines that were ever so slightly sharper than the norm. Anne gave a relieved smile in return, the whimper fading from her throat as she set off toward the woman, dragging her suitcase behind her. “Mrs Plantagenet?” she asked, while she was still far enough away that she could change direction without it being quite so awkward.

“It’s Joan, dear, please!” Mrs Plantagenet replied, striding forward herself . “Here-,” she discarded her sign in a nearby bin and stopped just in front of Anne. She moved as if to hug her and then abruptly stopped herself. “How was your journey?” she asked.

“Good!” Anne said. “…Long. A bit tiring. But the food was good!” she added, perking up. “They had sausage.” Her tongue darted across her lips at the memory, perhaps in the hope of finding some lingering crumbs. Joan chuckled.

“You’ll get on well with my boys,” she said. “Richard was agitating for hot dogs for lunch, when I left- which was about five minutes after he had polished off a round of sausage sandwiches for breakfast. So the food was good, I’m glad- was there enough of it, or can we get you something else, while we’re here? It will be an hour or so before home- possibly more, depending on traffic.”

“Yes,” Anne said, “Thank you- I’m full- thank you.” She fell silent, blushing a little in confusion. Mrs Plantagenet nodded.

“Right you are. We’ve got a car waiting outside- one of the perks of having John for a brother in law- let me take that for you, duck.”

Before Anne could protest, Joan had pushed the handle of her suitcase down and was lifting it by the strap as if it wasn’t almost half Anne’s size and felt heavier than if it was stuffed full of bricks. “Thank you,” she said instead, shaking her arm a little and shrugging her shoulder which- she only now realised- was feeling somewhat sore.

“My pleasure,” Mrs Plantagenet said, gesturing in the direction of the exit. “This way, dear.”

#my fic #it's not just a student au it's a WEREWOLF STUDENT AU #featuring #anne of bohemia #richard ii #and #Joan of Kent #so far #as plantage to the moon #will be the tag

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thisdreamplace · 3 years

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10 Days: Just Choose Happiness

Guidelines:

1. Choose happiness

2. Focus strictly on self (who I really am... I am affirming how EASY this is and how LIGHT I always feel)

3. SATs

4. “I Am” meditation (optional)

Why?

Just to test the waters. I noticed, there HAS to be a thin line between allowing yourself to feel emotions and then when you start to dwell in them. For a while, I would get into these days of just being constantly anxious but would allow myself to be... then I thought, well, what if I just chose happiness despite anything? Am I just choosing sadness without realizing? Can I really just CHOOSE to be happy? Let’s find out.

I also was inspired by this Neville quote. In fact, I love it so much. It always makes me laugh! But truly, this quote is something so many of us need to hear, myself included.

Many times I have heard someone say: "I believe that imagining creates reality, but I once imagined something and it never came to pass." Then I ask: "What are you doing, saying: 'I once imagined it' and not imagining it now? For God's name is I Am, not I did! Always thinking of God as someone outside of himself, man finds it difficult to keep the tense, but God is the human imagination and there is no other God. - Neville Goddard

As Neville said, God’s name is I AM. Not, I did. Therefore, I Am and I will continue to be and thus, I will continue to stay in my most desirable states. I will choose happiness.

Reflection:

These 10 days were... amazing. Honestly. And I recommend this “challenge” or “experiment” or whatever to anyone who wants to seriously make this a lifestyle. Because honestly, the law is a lifestyle. It’s inevitable, so, might as well make it work for you. Anyway, there were so many cool things that happened and I will only mention this briefly, but, I know I am on a clear bridge of events right now for something I have wanted for so long. I don’t like paying attention to bridges because:

1. Giving them too much attention insinuates (in my opinion) you don’t have what you want yet. And, I 100000% have what I want. Right now.

2. Giving them too much attention in the past has made me incredibly anxious and then I end up feeling like I’m back at square 1.

But I mean, is that not cool regardless? Anyway, out of these 10 days, I had 8 great days and 2 days where I had some anxiety. I noticed when I’m anxious, manifesting feels hard because it feels like I’m forcing something that’s not real. So, I would change my focus back to the point of this challenge. Focusing on my own inner world. Getting what I want feels easy even when I’m anxious. Good things happen even if I’m anxious. And uhh, they did!! haha a direct circumstance I was worried about turned out so much better than I thought?? Not an anxious moment went by where things didn’t turn out great for me anyway.

But, I tried to make sure I found a balance between feeling low and staying focused on happiness and good things. I never want to push anything aside, so like usual, I would just twist it. “I feel anxious and yet, everything is working out for me!” I noticed it, felt it, but then I’d allow myself to at least be happy in my mind. If our imagination is the one true reality, we have that choice.

I realized, in the past, I was so use to brushing compliments/love under the rug. I would reassure myself they don’t mean what they’re saying. haha not anymore! I use this as ammunition now, to keep me persisting. The 3D is literally reflecting my hard inner work. I am not going to let the old man stop me! :) In fact, love is so easy for me to receive and accept. This was one of my thoughts I kept reminding myself of on this challenge. Plus, I will briefly mention, my biggest focus of change I wanted when learning about the law all those months ago, are centered around my experiences/relationships with others. When it comes to this journey, painful moments regarding others had been the old man who loved to pull me back into the old story and the victim mentality. So, I will say, I am seeing beautiful progress in this area and it’s all so lovely!

Best Manifestations:

- Tons of hang outs!! I hung out with someone almost every night and I even got to hang out with someone I wasn’t expecting? And it was the best thing ever. It was all so amazing!

- Lots of compliments/love. Literally, the compliments I got during this time was the shit I absolutely love to hear. “You’re one of the only people in this world I truly feel comfortable with.” “You’re my favorite person.” “I am so glad I manifested you as my spirit guide.” HAHA someone literally said that! And then the super sweet asks I got on here too! It was wonderful!

- Sports wins? Okay, this one is funny to me because I could care less about sports. But, my family is a big fan of sports so whatever. In passing, I wanted my family’s team to win and they did. Twice. After the first one, I did get super anxious about them winning again. And they won anyway. Yeah, after this success I am totally over being scared of anxiety. I have proven to myself, time and time again, that anxiety won’t stop my manifestations from happening.

- Amazing conversation that really aligned with these 10 days. During one of my hangouts with a friend, we ended up talking about manifestation/Neville/infinite realities. Didn't think that’d happen?? I’m always scared to bring this up because, you know, mixed reactions. But she made is easy because she kind of spoke on something similar right before, so I thought it’d be the perfect gateway into the law. Thing was though, this friend was SUPER receptive. On top of that, she totally, on her own, spoke to me like my focus of these 10 days!! Like, sometimes I’d admit some of my limited beliefs and she’d just be like, “no. just decide. If we’re creating our reality you can literally just decide.” And I’m like damn. It IS that simple! And all I have to do is decide. It’s that simple. Her responses really mirrored this challenge, it was so freaking cool. She literally said, “just decide you already know everything and this is easy. We can do that. It’s our reality.” And it was like wow, YOU GOT ME AGAIN. hahahahahah So this just reinforced everything for me.

Best Self-Concept Improvements:

- My MOOD. I really did decide to be happy and so... I was. I also had tons of energy and usually felt super playful. :)

- Deeper understanding of info (clearly a direct manifestation from my affirmations!) Like, rereading some of the things I found inspirational hits so different. Like, it’s not just inspirational anymore. The words actually resonate... on a deeper level for me. And I actually freaking get it. Like, yes, this is the truth! The real truth! I am moving away from intellectually understanding the law to truly feeling and knowing the law to be true.

- It’s easier to give myself unconditional love AND it’s easier to revise on the spot. I had plenty of human moments but it was so easy not to dwell and just hop back on the wagon. Plus, I was instantly revising like crazy these past 10 days. As soon as a person said something that didn’t align with my desire, it was an easy revise and I was able to keep going along happily, because they actually said something wonderful in my mind.

- It is so easy to catch the feeling of having what I want. Like seriously, and it feels so great. Anytime I want to experience something, I know I can just tap into my 4D world, experience it, and feel great. Because I know that’s where everything that happens in the 3D takes place first, so why wouldn’t I be more than happy to my inner world amazing?

Conclusion:

I would say my biggest take away is that, if our imagination is where everything happens and the 3D is just a mirror... let’s shift our focus to what really matters. Our minds. Where everything is happening and where everything is actually taking place. The 3D only hurts our feelings because we allow it to. We spend so much time focusing on the law so that it gives us a beautiful result in the 3D, but even Neville said you must turn inward and change your self-concept first. So why do we ignore that very fact? The more we turn our attention towards the 4D, the more fun and effortless this all becomes. I will definitely be doing more of these.

I’d also like to credit u/chocolate-trains from Reddit because they do experiments every week and they inspired me to try some of my own. :)

Anyway, happy manifesting, y’all! 💖

#journey #law of assumption #neville goddard #i am #success

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savannahsdrabbles · 4 years

Text

Ocean Song - Part 8

rating: PG

notes: 1.7k words. A03 link can be found here. Also thank you to @rusty-wayfarer and @starfiretheninja for beta-reading.

Salt.

His head perked up and he inhaled greedily, scent glands tingling as he drank in the thick, sharp scent of ocean air. His senses had alerted him a while ago that they were approaching the shoreline - even before the humans had verbalized their own realizations - but the increasing smell of the water and the deep rumble of churning waves still made his heart beat all the faster. A primal desire deep within his bones yelled louder and louder with each plodding step, urging him to hit the ground running and not stop until he could feel shifting sand between his toes and icy spray on his skin.

He was fairly certain that he could successfully make a break for it at this point – most of the feeling had returned to his limbs, despite Girl not being able to remove the “collar” as planned. She’d stated her intent to do so after she and Boy finished covering their car with branches, hoping to disguise it while they were gone and cover their tracks. Once she’d seemed satisfied, the girl squatted before him and pulled the egg from an unseen place in her pelt.

“There’s only one button on it,” she’d reasoned out loud as she rolled the object in her palm and glanced nervously at his neck. He hadn’t liked her expression – why was she so hesitant now? Just remove it! “When I clicked the controller last time, it seemed to turn the power off. So maybe clicking a second time will make it release?”

She’d been wrong.

The moment her fingers left the surface of the egg, he felt his body begin to shut back down. Thankfully she’d been able to undo the process before his panic could fully set in, but the experience had still left him rattled and wanting to either smash the egg or bury it deep within the earth.

After that plan had failed, she and Boy decided that they would take turns standing behind him and prying at the collar with all of their might. He’d cringed away from their outstretched hands at first, giving small growls of warning when they reached for his throat, but reluctantly relented when Girl mentioned that the sooner they could get it off, the sooner they could get moving. He settled on clenching his teeth and curling his claws tightly into fists as the humans both attempted to jam their fingers into the small gap where skin met collar.

After a few minutes of them tugging and him mentally screaming, Boy gave a sigh and announced that he should be able to get it off using tools from “the Marina”. Girl had seemed to agree, and the next thing he knew, he’d been scooped back up into Boys’ arms and the trio began their slow journey down the cliffside.

The majority of the long walk had consisted of the two humans quietly talking between themselves while he squirmed anxiously in Boy’s arms; this was better than being held still, but it was still far from what he would consider comfortable. He’d tried to distract himself by listening in to their conversations initially, but gave up after only a few minutes. He’d long prided himself as being the best interpreter in his family, but now he felt like he was only catching a third of what was being said. What in the world were they even going on about, and why did it take so long for each Human to speak? Surely their communications could be much more efficient if they simply focused on vocal inclinations – why waste time sounding out long phrases that could just get lost amongst the waves?

In an effort to keep his mind calm, he took this time to reflect on either Human’s voice; he focused on memorizing their sounds and taking note of how exactly their tones changed as he spoke.

Boy was definitely the louder of the two and seemed to be more aggressive – though not quite in a way that made him fearful; he wasn’t like the Humans from earlier. He simply seemed to dive into his words and actions headfirst, not stopping to consider the potential consequences. This theory was proven correct several times during their walk, when Boy would suddenly take off running and launch himself over piles of leaves and twigs. The turtle clung to the front of his pelt each time, chattering nervously as he was jolted about and nearly dropped on multiple occasions. However, despite the Human’s abrupt movements, he couldn’t help but feel secure in his arms. Being held steady by calloused hands had become a traumatizing part of this whole ordeal, but this was… different. In more ways than one, Boy reminded him of Strong Brother.

Girl, on the other hand, was different; if he had to choose between the two of them, he felt more inclined to trust her. Her calm, caring and sometimes worried manner was comforting. She was clearly strong and could be loud as well – was this just a universal trait in Humans? – but she seemed to be more reserved with her volume. Her hands were also smaller and gentler than Boy’s. Even when she’d been breaking him out of the moving prison, her tone and hands had stayed soft and kind, promising him that everything was going to be okay. She’d kept all of her promises so far – they were out of the terrible place, away from the two “goons” as she referred to them, and were heading towards the ocean.

The longer they walked, the calmer he could feel himself becoming. Even if he could only understand a portion of what was going on, he couldn’t help but feel safe. Still, he felt hungry to know more.

Speaking of hunger.

He curled slightly inwards, arms wrapping around his stomach as a loud grumble echoed from within his body.

“What was that?” Both humans froze in their tracks, heads swiveling around. He stiffened as well- were they being pursued? What was happening?

His stomach gurgled a second time, ignoring his shushing and attempts to stay still and quiet. Two pairs of eyes instantly fell on him.

“Holy crap- was that your stomach?”

He blinked in surprise. Wait – they were startled by him? Did Humans not have hunger sounds?

“Y-yes,” he finally answered in Family Tongue. “Need eat.”

The two teens stared back, blinking. “Um… come again?”

“Food.”

More blinking and glancing between each other.

He sighed tiredly. It had been a long day, and he didn’t know the correct Human Spoken Word translation. Why couldn’t they just understand? He patted his lower plastron with emphasis and spoke again, this time dragging out the sound. “Hungryyyyyy.”

The Humans hesitated, and for a moment he felt like he was going to cry with frustration. Then Girl finally spoke up, patting her own stomach and cocking her head. “It’s probably been a while since he last ate – maybe he’s hungry? Is that it? Are you hungry?”

The turtle bobbed his head in excited relief, patting his plastron again. “Hun-gerr-ee.”

“Right – hungry!” Girl laughed, and he felt his heart skip a beat and clench all at once. Her happy sounds reminded him of Small Brother. It felt like it had been a lifetime since he had last heard the orange speckled turtle laugh. “Well, we should be reaching the marina any minute – there’s usually a couple of shops that are still open at this hour, so I’m sure we can grab something to eat.”

“Speaking of which,” Boy suddenly squatted and sat his passenger on the ground, then stood back up and rolled his shoulders. “Ugh – my back is killing me. No offense dude, but you weigh a heck ton.”

The turtle shuffled his feet on the pine covered ground and cocked his head thoughtfully, considering the words. He wasn’t sure what they meant, but he could tell by the tone that they seemed despairing. After a moment, he nodded and pursed his lips in an imitation of the Human’s expression. “’Fense, Dood.”

Another surprised laugh bubbled out of Girl’s mouth, which she quickly stifled with her hands.

Boy shook his head, but his large grin and shaking shoulders betrayed the laughter that he was holding back. “I’m sorry – that was kind of rude. I was going to say, though, we’re getting close to the marina now so we should probably figure out what the plan is.” He pointed at Girl. “How about you guys stay here while I go rent the boat and grab us something to eat? I can text you or something when I’m ready, and you guys can come meet me at the docks.”

“Sounds good to me,” Girl nodded, then hesitated. She gestured in the direction they had been headed. “Wait –what if someone sees him? I know there’s probably not much of a crowd right now, but there’s bound to be security cameras and at least a couple of people that would freak out. Maybe we should cover him up?”

To the turtle’s horror and fascination, Boy reached down and grabbed the bottom of his pelt, then yanked it over his head to reveal a second layer underneath. Before he had a chance to gawk any further, Boy leaned over and dropped the outer pelt into his lap. “Here – take my hoodie. It might not totally fit over your shell, but at least it will get you semi-covered.”

He stared down at the material in his lap, still pondering whether or not he should fling it away in disgust, when Boy suddenly turned, pushed through the bushes, and vanished into the night.

“Wait – where he going?” he whined softly. “Why leave?”

Pine needles crunched nearby as Girl joined him on the ground. She crossed her legs, resting her elbows on her knees and chin in hand, then leaned forward as she spoke softly. “I’m not sure how much of that you understood, but Casey is going to go get us a boat, okay? Then he’s going to text me – err, tell me when he’s ready - so that we can go join him at the water.”

“Water.” he repeated, bobbing his head. “Cay-cee go to water?”

Girl grinned, a small huff of air escaping her nose as her cheeks curved upwards. “He is. And speaking of Casey and I, let’s have a talk.”

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt fanfiction #savannah drabbles #sea turtles au

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