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rushtoprove · 1 year

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our little secret

part one: revelations

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!reader chapter: 1 rating: teen and up word count: 4k+ summary: aemond promised to take you as his wife when the time was right and you had no reason to doubt him. but when news of his engagement to cassandra baratheon is announced, and your name is left ruined by his nightly visits to your chamber, you have no choice but to flee from the shame you have brought upon your family and to run from the man you love. but not all is as it seems warnings: sexual references and nsfw scenes. period typical misogyny and course language. chapters: 1 / 2

From the moment you were born, you were told your only importance was how successful your marriage would be for the furtherment of your family. Your older brother would inherit your father’s titles and his lands, but all you had was a dowery that you could not touch for it would belong to your future husband. You were told that the only skills you needed were to please the men around you in hopes that they might take a liking and to learn the customs that make a good wife.

“Your future depends on tonight. Every eligible suitor shall be at this ball, and you must present yourself perfectly. Do not let your family down.” You felt your mother tug your hair with extra force as she readied you for the great feast to honour the king on his name day.

“Yes mother.” You whispered, desperate for her to approve.

“We have spent much gold on this dress so do not make it needless. We will not have you come back without a suiter again.” Taking in the bright blue silk that pressed tightly against you, forcing your chest to push up further than you thought possible, you bowed your head in obedience. You wished to tell her that every other gathering only presented halfwits and morons, but you would never dare speak to her that way. She would tell you to be grateful that the men had looked at you and that their house name would provide stability and protection. She would curse you for being ungrateful and spoilt, making it much easier to simply keep your mouth shut.

“I shall make you proud mother.” You wanted to. Gods, all you wanted was your family’s love and gratification, but you would not be looking for a suiter tonight. You would not allow the Lannister lord to sneak you to the gardens to talk, nor would you allow the Baratheon boy to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. The cousin of the House Strong would not be allowed to read you his poetry and you would certainly not allow the first-born Tyrell to steal a kiss is the dark. No one would court you, for you were taken. You just needed time to explain it to your family. They would not understand just yet.

“Come. You are ready for them to see you, and what a sight you are.” Submissive to your mother’s order, you stood and followed numbly behind her. The walk to the hall was a blur of noise and colour. Your father always had to be leading, standing tall in front of the courts. You all belonged to a small house, nameless years ago, but your father had built his power through his cunning ways. But as powerful as he considered himself, your house was still a small one meaning you were one of the first to enter the hall. Not many were there to see your entrance, but your father kept his head high and his strut powerful. You admired his dedication to the role.

“I am sure your mother has told you what is expected of you tonight.” His fierce gaze did not waver as you quickly ducked into a curtsey.

“Yes father.” Your family had told you of their expectations since you came of age, but they had fallen into the habit of repeating it whenever they were with you. For a year, you had remained without a suiter and your family were blind to the reason. They thought you too plain to keep any man’s interest, and too dull to be admired.

“Good girl.” No one suspected it you who was keeping the admirers away. That you would tear up the love letter’s that would arrive in the aftermath of these feasts, or that you would decline the company of countless men without fail. Some even found themselves threatened with fire and blood, but it was not you who terrorized them so.

“The Lannister Lord was quite taken with you after Princess Helaena’s name day celebrations. Perhaps try and make him remember that affection.” Your brother tried to spur you on affectionately, hoping his advice would help you. Again, you simply bowed your head and cast down your eyes.

“Here., He comes!” Your mother hissed, quickly reaching out and tugging your cheeks to brighten them. Your father instantly stood to attention while your brother quickly squeezed your arm in fondness. Not one cared that Jason Lannister was a year older than your father.

“You shall shine bright tonight little sister.” He whispered in your ear before nudging your forward. Your whole family bowed in respect for the higher born lord, but he paid no attention as he shamelessly stared at your breasts.

“Ah my little dove! You disappeared so quick the last time we met! I thought to never see you again!” Without permission, he pulled your hand roughly to his lips. He may have been more considerate if he not already drowning in his cups.

“My apologies Lord Lannister.” It was challenging to not turn up your nose in disgust and turn away from the proud bastard, but you remained passive under the gaze of your blood. He was still yet to look at your face.

“I hear the royal family are meeting so they shall not be attending for a little while longer. Let us dance to fill in the time.” You wanted to decline, but your heart squeezed at his words. The smallest reminder and you were caught in your own mind. Senselessly you agreed and repressed the shiver that ran down your spine as he grasped your waist and dragged you to the centre of the dancefloor. Other couples joined to line up beside you and Jamie Lannister finally lifted his gaze from your chest, only to stare at Cassandra Baratheon’s beside you. You watched as she lowered her gaze and giggled, slyly looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes. She was good at this little play. The music jolted everyone to attention, and you slowly moved to the beat, dreading the feeling of Lord Lannister’s hands in yours. It was not his touch that you wished to feel right now. You only cared for the touch of another.

“King Viserys Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Prince of Dragonstone! And his wife Queen Alicent of House Hightower!” The dance was holted and the courtiers fell into a silent bow as the announcement was made. You felt your breath catch and against your will, your neck craned to find a glimpse of who you had been desperate to see.

“And their children! Prince Aegon Targaryen, Prince Aemond Targaryen, Prince Daeron Targaryen and the Princess Helaena Targaryen!” The family stepped forth into the hall, hands clasped behind their back as they walked straight through the parted crowd. No one dared to look too long, out of fear they may disrespect the royal family, and you too kept your eyes firmly downcast. You heart grew louder in your ears as the echo of footsteps grew closer, before stopping altogether as you gazed them walking in front of you.

“They better have poured my wine.” You heard Prince Aegon moan as he came to walk past you.

“You drink more than a Braavosi seahorse.” The sound from Prince Aemond was something you often longed to hear and left goosebumps all over you. The deep voice was enough to have you blushing, thinking back to the scandalous things he had whispered to you the very night before.

This was your secret. Aemond Targaryen, the second prince to King Viserys, and the proud rider of the fierce dragon Vaghar, was your lover. Every night he would take the secret passage to your chamber and claim you, over and over. He would worship your body and be floored by your mind while praising the gods they had sent you to him. He adored you, and you him. But it had to remain your little secret. Your family would not believe you would be able to capture a prince, no matter how high they wanted you to marry.

That’s why you prayed no one saw him extend his finger to brush through your hair as he walked by you.

“Please! Be relaxed!” The king laughed. Releasing a breath, everyone went back to standing straight and watching as the Targaryen family took to their seats. King Viserys began a speech, thanking all those who had come to attend his celebration, and you tried to pay attention. You truly tried. But Aemond had yet to move his gaze from you, leaving you blushing and trying not to make eye contact for too long. It had been a year since you had given yourself to him, and yet it still left you dizzy as if it the first time you received his attention.

“Aegon sure loves his cups.” You had forgotten that Jason Lannister remained in your presence and flinched as he whispered into your ear with his foul breath. He leaned against you, making you almost buckle under his weight in shock. It was impossible to miss the way Aemond’s gaze darkened. You tried to politely move away from the man, but you could not leave your position without him falling to the ground. For the rest of the speech, you tried desperately to ignore the weight, and the smell, of Lord Lannister and instead tried to remember something else to take your mind of it.

Watching Aemond draw his goblet to his lips, you remembered the feeling of his tongue making its way down your naked form, the feeling of his mouth on your most sensitive parts. The feeling of ecstasy as he made you crumble beneath it for the fourth time that night. The memory of last night made your experience much easier to bear.

“Now let us dance and be merry! Let us have some music!” The band were quick to restart the song, and everyone scrambled to take their places. It was a flurry of skirts and elbows, everyone desperate to fulfil the wishes of the king. You were dragged to your spot by Lord Lannister, who you did not know could even stand straight. Quickly readying yourself, you paid no attention to who lined up beside you.

“Thank you for dancing with me.” A sweet voice laughed beside you, as you flattened your skirt and pulled at the cuffs of your sleeves. You felt ridiculous in such heavy layers during the summer, but your father thought keeping the coverage would show your purity.

“Anything for you sweet sister.” With a jolt, your head swung up to see Aemond standing proudly, leaving Jamie darkened by his shadow. You had yet to see Aemond dance in public as he had only danced with you twice, privately, and under the influence of too much wine. His eye remained staring at you, and you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your lips. Only you would have noticed the way his lips also curved upwards.

“Princess Helaena. Prince Aemond. It shall be an honour to have you as our dance partners.” Lord Lannister was breathless at the sight of Aemond, as may often were. The respect he had gained from his fighting skills and philosophies often either intimidated or attracted the court. You quickly bowed in agreement.

“A pleasure.” You whispered. Helaena simply giggled before holding out her hand to her younger brother. You mimicked the move to Jamie and watched Aemond tense as your hand was squeezed much too tightly. The band began the music once more and everyone began moving in sync. You did not allow yourself to get too close to the Lannister, but the moment you spun into Aemond’s arms you felt yourself be pulled flush against the prince. The proximity could easily be seen as a part of the dance, but everyone was blind to the way both your bodies were alight with the familiar feeling of desire.

“I do not intend to spend too long here my love. I do hope you intend to leave soon.” His voice was hushed as he pulled your body up and spun you around to the dance.

“Whatever my prince desires.” You breathed out as your mouth leant close to his ear. He spun you so that your back was pressed tightly to his chest and lifted your arm to trail his fingers along.

“You know what I desire. Make sure your servants make your bath than retire for the night. I will take care of the rest.”

+++

It was not two minutes after your maids did retire that night, that the hidden door into your room swung open widely. You had no time to prepare before Aemond had you wrapped up in his arms and his hand tangled into your hair.

“You look fucking delicious in that dress.” He moaned as he moved his face to bury into your chest. You laughed and tried to push him away mockingly but took delight in the way he pressed his lips tightly against yours. You sighed at the feeling and cherished the way you felt him relax in a way that he would only do for you.

“You may take me as many times as you like tonight Aemond, but I need to bathe first. Jason Lannister spilt his wine all over me.” You cursed that you had to break away from his kiss, but the stickiness of your skin was unbearable.

“I should have cut him down right then and there. How dare he touch what is mine?” Aemond hissed but you both fell silent. How was he to know? No one was aware of your arrangement yet. Aemond first needed to gain permission from his family to have you as his wife, a proposition which you had accepted long ago. It was hard to find the right time, however due to the king’s ailing heath and rising tensions amongst the royal family. You did not mind. You would wait a lifetime for him.

“Come and join me my darling. I want to wash your hair.” You ignored the heaviness of the room, and instead walked backwards while guiding him by his hand. He smiled lovingly at you and brought your hands to his lips.

“I crave nothing more.” When you reached the tub, he moved to stand behind you and began to unlace the back of your gown. He could not go two seconds without kissing the back of your neck.

“Pay attention! The bath will get cold.” You tried to reprimand him, but your eyes screwed shut in pleasure to which he took great delight. It took longer than it should have, but when you were both finally bare you watched as he lowered himself into the water. His eyes raked over your naked form as if he was seeing it for the first time.

“Moulded from the gods.” He breathed out in reverence. Once upon a time, his attention was overwhelming. Now you were filled with nothing but bliss. You joined him but kneeled before him instead of laying against his chest.

“Do come closer I might catch a chill.” He frowned, making you giggle as the steam that rose from the almost scorching water almost made it impossible to see one another.

“Not until you are as bare as me.” Biting your lips, you placed your hands on your thighs and stared at him expectingly. Aemond held your gaze for some seconds, before humming begrudgingly.

“Fine. But you take it off. I wish to use my hands elsewhere.” Crawling forward so you leaned on top of him, Aemond grabbed your hips and quickly nipped at your shoulder.

“Ow.” You cried out in fake shock as your hands moved up towards the back of his head. Fumbling around, you loosened his eyepatch enough so that you could slip the leather off his head. He did not break eye contact as his missing eye became exposed, and in its place a perfectly carved sapphire. Delicately running you finger down the side of his face, you pressed a small kiss on his scarred eyebrow.

“Perfect.” Your sigh was enough for him to pull you down to him and yet again pull you in to a feverish kiss. Aemond allowed his hands to clutch desperately at your body before flipping you over. Holding your breath, you felt both your bodies submerge under the water, but he refused to break the kiss. You cried out in shock and could not stop laughing as you broke through the surface.

“Are you trying to drown me?” You giggled as you pushed your soaking hair from your face. He smiled lazily at you as he reclined back into the bathtub, slowly tugging you with him.

“Well, you needed me to soak my hair for you to wash it did you not?” With an eyebrow raised expectantly, Aemond pushed forward the rosewater left behind for your own hair. No one would know the way Aemond was behind your closed doors, and you were devoted to keeping it your little secret. You moved to sit behind him and allowed his body to relax into yours as you began massaging your fingers a top his skull. It was a comfortable silence as you washed him and with closed eyes, Aemond moaned at your touch.

“I must admit something to you.” He only spoke once you had rinsed his hair and his voice was nothing more than a whispered.

“What must you confess?”

“I discussed my future proposal with my father.” Your fingers stopped for a second, before hesitantly running down the fallen strands.

“What of it?” You whispered. You were no fool. You knew that the royal family would not simply allow their son to marry such a lowborn lady. But you could not help but hope for dear life that they had.

“I have requested that I chose who I shall wed. And he has agreed.” Pushing Aemond forward, you stared at him with widened eyes.

“You jest.” You glared at him but could not slow your beating heart. Shaking his head, Aemond clasped your hands together with sincerity.

“Not of this. I have given much to my family. This is all I have asked for and he says it is to be granted.”

“You're making a fool of me.” Pushing Aemond away, you quickly climbed from the bath and wrapped yourself in a gown, concealing yourself from his gaze. He was quick to follow, calling for you as he followed to your bedroom.

“You think me a liar?” Grasping your shoulders, he turned you to face him. His heart broke at the sight of the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

“You are a prince. You will not be allowed to marry me.” You tried hard, but a sob racked your body and you desperately tried to spin away from his sight. His hands firmly kept you facing him.

“I told you long ago that I would marry you. And when have I ever broken a promise? We are made to fit against one another my love. Without you I would lose half my heart, half my soul! I will not allow you to be taken from me and I have made it clear to my father! He has agreed! I swear it on my mother’s soul! You shall be my wife and you shall be the mother of my children! I would not jest of my love for you.” You could not speak for all that left your mouth were cries. Bundling you up in his arms, Aemond tightly pressed himself to you.

“You are my love. My light. If I am not with you, I shall die the most painful death, I just know it. I love you. I promise you this. You shall be my wife.”

You believed him.

+++

The next day, you found yourself nervously pacing your families' quarters, awaiting your father. You brother stared at you as if you were a mad woman, but your mother was too caught up in her own excitement. She could not believe her husband had been called to a private audience with the king.

“Gods. What could it be about!?” She clutched her pearls as she too paced around the room. Your brother simply sat upon the couch, amused by the women in his life.

“I hear the master of coins is to retire. Perhaps father is to be offered the position.” He put forward the idea casually, but your mother burst into hysterics at the mere thought. You, however, knew what was being said. You had wished Aemond had given you time to explain to your family the relationship you shared with the young prince. It would surely come as a shock.

“WHERE IS SHE!?” You father’s voice shook the doors from the mighty boom. Everyone jumped in shock.

“What...”

“WHERE IS THAT FUCKING WHORE!?” The very words struck you and you felt your insides crawl. You were instantly nauseas. You knew if you were truly engaged to a prince your father would have wept with pride. Doing your best to suppress your dread, you assured yourself.

Aemond had promised.

The doors burst open, and everyone watched in horror as your father strode in and grasped your shoulders tightly.

“You wench!” He cried out before tossing you towards your brother. He leaped to his feet to catch your stumbling form.

“Father I...”

“You have shamed this family! You have RUINED YOURSELF! YOU ARE TARNISHED! WHAT SANE PERSON WOULD WANT YOU NOW! YOU FOOLISH FUCKING WHORE!” You father’s words cut deep, and you instantly began shaking. Desperately looking between your family members, you felt your breath quicken and your mind began to race.

“Lord husband? What is the meaning of this?” Your mother cried as she moved to grab his arm, but your father simply twisted from her and pointed his finger close to your face.

“Your whore of her daughter has bedded Prince Aemond! The word has gotten to his father the king!” Your mother shouted in disagreement, but you felt your brother’s supportive grip loosen.

“Father please I...”

“He has banished you! He has requested I take you from the Red Keep this very instant! He says he is ashamed of such debauchery taking place beneath his ceilings!” You cried out at his words, and tried to stumble away, but your father would not allow you.

“There must be some mistake!” Your mother tried to protect you, but your brother spun you to face him. Wiping away your tears, he looked at you in sympathy.

“What did he promise you?” Your father shouted at the question and quickly took to pacing the room.

“He loves me.” Your voice was a whimper, leaving you unable to defend yourself against your father's onslaught.

“He desires you little sister. He is incapable of love. He is a man with royal tastes. He is just like his brother.” You began shaking your head at his mocking words and struggled to free yourself from his tight grip.

“You do not understand! He loves me. He promised he would...” You began sobbing before you could finish the sentence making your brother click his tongue in pity.

“Do you not see? You’ve been tricked. Did he promise your marriage? He is an heir to the throne! The marriage of a Prince is a political matter. You think he would simply be allowed to choose you as his wife? What would you offer the throne? You are a fool. He has tricked you sister and left you shamed.” You moaned in disagreement at the taunting before yet again trying to break his hold. Crying out in anger, you began kicking backwards.

“You do not understand! He has been promised! He is to marry me!”

“He has fooled you. You are disgrace by his actions.”

“No! I must see him! He has requested my hand! He asked his father to marry me!” You heard your father scoff at the words, and soon he began laughing hysterically. The noise made your heaving chest rattle even louder and you desperately shook your head.

“He is not here you wretched fool! Listen to your brother! His marriage has been planned for months now! All the court knows! Everyone but you because you have been too busy hiding yourself from the truth of the matter. You have acted as a lovesick fool and now our family name must pay the price.” The mocking was met with your desperate rejections, but your body began to weaken.

“No.” You whined out in anguish.

“Aemond Targaryen has ridden with Lady Cassandra Baratheon.” You whimpered now, still shaking your head at your fathers' cruel words.

“Please.”

“For he wishes to ask her father for her hand directly.” Collapsing to the floor, you became numb to your mothers' sobs and your brothers tuts. Your father leant down to your crippled form and roughly took your chin so that you had no choice but took look at him.

“Yes. Prince Aemond is to marry. And you are to be banished from his sight for the rest of your years. You are ruined my daughter. You are a shame on the family name. There is a carriage that is to take you on a ship, and from there you shall sail to Dorne. You shall live away from the mess you have created. Perhaps it mercy the king has sent you away from the scandal that shall no doubt brew. You are an embarrassment and a fool. We hope to never see your whore of a face again.” Your father’s cruel snarl shook you, but you felt yourself falling further and further into a depression.

You thought of Aemond’s promise. You thought of his laughter and his kisses. You thought of the feeling of his hands on your skin, his lips on yours. His whispers of their future. But everything seemed to be crumbling inside your memory. How had you allowed him to lead you on for over a year? Had it all been an empty promise?

Did he ever truly love you?

next chapter

#aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #aemond x y/n #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction

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acotar-taylorsversion · 3 months

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Future ACOTAR Books

Ok, so Sarah is contracted for 2 more acotar novels and a novella, right?

Here's how I'm thinking its gonna be laid out.

ACOTAR -1, ACOMAF -2, ACOWAR -3, ACOFAS -novella 1, ACOSF -4

ACOTAR 5 - Elain's book with Azriel as love interest. I believe she will reject the bond with Lucien and help Nesta and Az with the trove and locating Koschei, the prison, Az and Nuala and Cerridwen helping her with her seer skills since it can be related to spying, and all that. There's much that could happen here and some many questions could be answered.

Novella 2 - this can be Vassa and Lucien's. I truly believe that if Elain would reject the bond, Lucien would allow himself to discover something with Vassa. This would push the story along for the Koschei storyline because I believe that Lucien and Vassa will be heavily involved with that. Sarah made Lucien a part of this band of exiles for a reason. We could also see or hear about what the inner circle is doing through their povs or through some type of correspondence through Lucien. This could possibly start while Elain's story is going on as well, if she rejects the bond early on in her book. She could even tie in Mor and what it is that she's doing since she's trying to get more allies for Rhys. And even Eris since he will be dealing with Beron and the aftermath of being caught. Seems like a lot but Tower of Dawn was meant to be a novella and look how that one turned out.

ACOTAR 6 - this could be a multi pov novel that centers around all the sisters and their chosen loves. And don't tell me she won't because she did it in acofas. OR it could be in feyre and Rhy's povs because they are sarah's favorite couple and if she had to end the series with any couple I believe it would be them. But anyway, I believe that Koschei will be the final big bad for acotar and its gonna take a lot to defeat him. it's gonna take everyone coming together just like they did with the king of Hybern. I also believe that people are gonna die. I've always felt that Mor would be the one to die and maybe Lucien, and Helion, and Tamlin. I think that a couple of courts would be left without high lords and this would allow Rhys and Feyre to become High King and Queen, especially after what we learned in HOFAS, its pretty much his birth right. Wouldn't be something since Tamlin told Feyre that there were no such things as High Lady's and she would end the series as High Queen! lol

This is what I think will be happen, and it's my opinion so I don't need anyone telling me that I'm crazy or delusional, none of that. Based on what happened in frost and starlight (the one that sarah said she set up the rest of the series in), I believe this is what could happen. Do I think Nesta's story is done? No, and we could have her pov in the last book with her sisters. Do I think the valkyries are gonna be main characters? No, I don't because I think they are there mainly for Nesta and I only see them helping with battles and maybe some research. That's it. Do I think the illyrians will be important? Maybe, but sarah has been known to forget about some plots or just completely shut them down in the next book. Remember how we all thought Kallon from frost and starlight was gonna be Cassian's enemy #1 in silver flames? Don't remember him at all? Exactly.

Sorry for the long post, I just have to get all of this out of my head before it drives me crazy. Just so y'all know, I'm pro elriel, feysand, nessian, vassien (if Lucien survives). I don't see how elucien could ever be a happy mated couple, and I don't see how people think Gwyn and Az could ever be romantic and you can't say the next book is Nesta's and say that sarah will have gwynriel as the couple when they would be side characters. Each book will be centered around a couple, right? Did she say new or established? I can't remember but the main couple wouldn't be in the background. And I don't see how Gwyn could carry an entire novel. I'm sorry, I just can't. It would be half of silver flames and I don't think Sarah will do that. And I do think its messed up how sarah and Bloomsbury have let this nasty ship war go on for this long.

But I do believe that this series started with Feyre and her sisters and it will end with her and her sisters. I believe Sarah has made such a big deal with 3's for a reason. Do you guys remember that scene in mist and fury where Mor (whose power is truth) painted the 3 sisters and 3 brothers on the wall in the cabin? That meant something. Mor's reaction to almost every Elriel interaction means something just like it did with Nesta and Cassian. Azriel being able to smell Elain's mating bond and questioning the cauldron means something. The sisters being Made means something. The fact that the cauldron was messed with means something.

Anyways, these are my thoughts. Sorry that this is so long. Please be kind.

#acotar #elain archeron #elriel #acotar 5 #vassien #azriel shadowsinger #pro elriel #lucien vanserra #vassa acotar #nesta archeron #feysand #pro elain archeron #anti g*ynriel #anti el*cien

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depressedhatakekakashi · 9 months

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Necessary Changes

Words: 1189

For: @skykashi

Arguing with Koharu and Homura was an endless, exhausting task. As a Jonin Kakashi learned to pick and choose his fights carefully because the two elder’s were exceptionally skilled at wearing down their opponents. He’d seen shinobi older and more experienced than him cave to the elder’s demands, including Lord third.

He never gave up because he didn’t genuinely care about the argument, but because he ran out of energy to fight for his cause any longer. There had been many times growing up that he wished he’d had more power because it seemed like the only way that he would have the power to shut the elders up. Now, Kakashi had that power. He may not have wanted it when he first took the position of Hokage from Tsunade-sama, but Kakashi couldn’t deny the fact that he finally had a power he’d never had before.

“Shut up.” he groaned as he rubbed his forefinger against his temple in an attempt to will away the headache he could feel creeping up on him with every word the two elder’s said.

Koharu gasped, acting as though this was the first time in her life that a Hokage had told her to silence herself.

“Lord Sixth-” Homura began, only silencing himself when Kakashi glared his way.

If it were anyone else Kakashi would insist that they drop the ‘Lord’. It was an honorific meant to refer to those who had earned other people’s respect. People like Tsunade and Jiraiya had earned the right to be referred to using that honorific, but not Kakashi.

He was just Kakashi. Nothing else.

In this instance, though, he was willing to let it slide. If the two elder’s were going to insist on arguing with them he was going to allow them to remind themselves of just who it was they were trying to pick a fight with.

This wasn’t a fresh faced Jonin Kakashi arguing for a change in his team selection for a mission because he knew he could do the job better with Rin and Gai at his side.

It wasn’t Anbu Kakashi who was so broken and lost that he barely had a back bone to hold himself up let alone argue with the elder’s.

The two of them weren’t picking a fight with someone they still out ranked. No, today they were picking a fight with Hokage Kakashi. A man who’d never wanted the responsibility of taking care of an entire village, but who’d come into the job determined to make changes to the system that had taken so much from him.

“This is not up for discussion,” he lowered his hand onto the desk. “You can tell me how much you hate what I'm doing but I’ve already signed the paperwork and begun the process of retraining Konoha’s shinobi.”

“This is ridiculous,” Koharu straightened herself up, recovering from the shock of being told off. “Konoha is a village of shinobi. It is our job-”

tilting his head, Kakashi stared at her until . “Not ours,” Kakashi corrected her. “You two are no longer active shinobi. You have not been on a mission in over thirty years. If I could remove you from your positions I would but unfortunately even the Hokage does not have that power.” He’d checked and Tsunade had just sighed and shook her head. If there was anyone in Konoha who understood his desire to get rid of the elder’s it was her. “And in the past you would have been correct. When you were shinobi Konoha was in the midst of war. Killing our enemies may have been the only option. That’s not the case anymore.”

It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t allow the next generation to suffer through the guilt and regret that he had.

“Lord Sixth, you must see reason on this,” Homura continued to argue. “To change something so engrained into our society is foolish. Konoha’s shinobi are used to the way things are. They won’t change just because you ask them to.”

‘They won’t change that easily’ Tsunade-sama’s words echoed back to him. She’d been the first person he’d spoken to of his decision. Someone he could speak to who would tell him honestly what she thought and whether or not he should move forward. When he’d heard those words from her he’d prepared himself to give up on a better future, but then she continued speaking. ‘Then, of course, nothing that’s worth fighting for is ever easy’

Kakashi had a choice to make as Hokage. Which fights were the one’s he was willing to pick, and how far was he willing to dig his heels in and stand his ground?

For this one, the answer was simple to find.

No matter what anyone else said, or how much they fought him, he would stand his ground. This was a change that had to be made and there was no one in the village who would be able to stop him.

“They will learn,” he spoke calmly, keeping his voice steady even though he wanted to scream. “I don’t expect it to be an easy transition for anyone. There will be struggles and we will have to learn new methods.” the inclusion of ‘we’ was deliberate. Kakashi knew that it wouldn’t be just the shinobi under his command who would struggle with the new rule.

He had been raised to be a killer. Molded into the perfect ideal of a shinobi, ready to take a life at a moment’s notice. His hands were stained with the blood of countless enemy shinobi.

Learning to capture rather than kill would be just as much of a struggle for him, but it was something he was willing to put himself through so that the shinobi of Konoha knew he was serious about this change.

“Now,” focusing back on the pair in front of him, he narrowed his eyes. “This conversation is done. I will not hear another word about it so unless you have something else to speak with me about I would suggest you leave. I still have a lot of paperwork to finish before my day ends.”

Homura opened his mouth but quickly rethought whatever it was he wanted to say and instead turned his back to Kakashi with a huff.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Lord Sixth,” Koharu sighed as she copied her friend’s movements, sparing Kakashi a glance over her shoulder. “The Hokage’s before you went through a lot to set the village up as it is. What you’re doing is dismantling all of that work.”

“Perhaps,” he sat back in his chair. “But they set up the village for war. I want this village to thrive and grow in ways they never could have imagined.”

He didn’t need to be known as the best Hokage Konoha had ever had. In fact, he’d resigned himself to being known as the worst Hokage in history as soon as he’d taken the seat and he was still prepared to take that title.

If being the worst meant pushing his village into a brighter, more hopeful future, he would happily wear that title.

#Hatake Kakashi #Fic #Ficlet #Hokage Kakashi #Taryn's Birthday Bash

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for "gossiping" about a coworker?

I (27m) work in a liquor store and am quite genuinely the most competent employee despite having been until very recently the newest. Other than the owner, there are 2 who've worked there longer than me and both of them (I'll call em C (31m) and M(39f) have made much less effort to learn about liquor or even, quite frankly, people skills than I have. And lemme tell you, I started out very socially anxious. I'm a regular socialite now.

So C, at least, has a really good work ethic. He's not super socially adept with customers but he makes up for it by going above and beyond, like taking initiative to do a lot of the relatively "shit" work that the rest of us don't wanna do. I'd also say I get along with him very well bc he's pretty intelligent and open-minded.

M, meanwhile, is genuinely the most simple-minded person I've ever known in my life. The good thing is that she seems to be kind of self-aware of not being very smart and able to be a good sport about it (ngl it helps that I'm gay and she's the type to want a sassy gbf so i can kinda get away with being mean as a joke) - and she is also often just as self-aware about the fact that she doesn't do shit at work. Like she'll literally pause deliveries just bc she doesn't feel like driving, she never takes out trash, she's basically always late, she mentally shuts down at the prospect of any math despite working with money, she has little to no decision-making skills either, she spends half her shift in the bathroom and the other half literally playing solitaire, she isn't able to help customers with shit bc she's never made an effort to learn about anything we sell, etc. But she's nice, and we really don't need her help that much with anything other than just having people behind the counter.

And that's more or less what I told the newest hire, S(25F). It was in the context of explaining exactly how incredibly easy this job is - that basically almost nothing was gonna be expected of her. As examples I told her how M does the least here by far after being here for over 2 years and is at no risk of being fired. I really didn't think much of it bc my intentions were purely to point out that this is a chill job.

But a few weeks later, seemingly at random, M kinda blew up at me for being "disrespectful" about something entirely unrelated. In short it was a matter of me getting a little too comfortable joking about her incompetence in front of a customer, and I hadn't realized in this particular instance it would be upsetting but I understood after the fact and I apologized. She responded literally ONLY by saying "you're not gonna disrespect me, I'm grown" and went on to literally just leave for the day. I was baffled, but when I saw her next I basically immediately gave another apology. She explained then that the reason she was upset was that the new girl S told her that I said she was the laziest one here, saying "I thought we were friends."

I obviously tried to apologize profusely, promising her that it wasn't a "talking shit" sort of thing and trying to explain the context of that, etc. But also I think it's pretty fucking rich and kinda insane of her to be so upset that I said she was lazy. She says so herself, all the time. Also the fact that S would tell M about this conversation and clearly either leave out the context or just do nothing to dissuade M from being upset about it.... Basically idk if I should feel bad about this. In the future I won't be talking shit to S just pragmatically speaking but WAS i wrong to do it at all? AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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whitedarkmoonflower · 10 months

Text

Prisoner Part 1

Part 1 – Sihtric x reader

Authors note: the idea for this fic came when I edited this screenshot from Season 5. It was not really an idea, just a feeling in the air that there was a story to be told and I just started writing not knowing where it will lead me.

Summary: Sihtric and Finan are sent to spy on Bebbanburg, but Sihtric gets distracted by an attractive widow and lands up caught and secured by the guards with no chances of escape.

Warnings: smut, 18+

Word Count: 3,887

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Getting caught and locked up in Bebbanburg’s fortress was definitely not part of the plan. Perhaps it wouldn’t have happened if Sihtric had stuck to the plan, but the temptation to catch a glimpse of the garrison and palisades from within the fortress was too strong to resist. The group of merchants traveling to Bebbanburg in wagons loaded with furs, spices, and fabrics seemed like the perfect disguise. Sihtric immediately noticed that one of the young women traveling with them couldn't take her eyes off him from the moment she saw him at the tavern in the village. Upon inquiring, Sihtric discovered that the young lady was a widow who continued her late husband's trade by selling silk and spices. It was a perfect opportunity. They were supposed to leave for Bebbanburg the following morning, and the fortress was a two-day ride away, so Sihtric had to act quickly.

"You'll see, I'll be back in a week," he confidently assured Finan.

"That's the most foolish idea I've ever heard," Finan responded, far from impressed by the new plan. "And what do you expect me to do if you don't return? What if you're caught?" he asked, growing frustrated.

"I won't be caught," Sihtric asserted, his confidence in his abilities as a spy, which he had already proven several times, unwavering.

Now he just had to convince the pretty little thing, who was casting lustful glances at him, to allow him to accompany the group of merchants to the fortress. Sihtric didn't anticipate it being a complicated task, as he positioned himself near the tavern's entrance, patiently waiting for the lady. He saw no reason why he couldn't combine pleasure with necessity. If getting inside Bebbanburg required to give a good hump to a pretty widow, he saw no reason not to seize the opportunity.

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Sihtric kicked the door shut behind you, his hands firmly holding you against his chest as he eagerly traced the contours of your body. His lips remained locked with yours, never breaking the passionate connection. Sihtric pressed you against the door, his hands slid down your thighs and started pushing your dress up, his hot lips moving down to your neck placing hungry kisses on their way.

“You are so beautiful, my lady!” he whispered in your ear, his voice husky yet soft, causing a shiver of anticipation to run down your spine. “Tell me, what do you want me to do?” Sihtric asked, catching you off guard with his question. It was the first time anyone had ever asked you that. In your experience, men could be divided into two types. There were those who didn’t care whether you enjoyed being with them or not, viewing women as mere objects meant to fulfil their desires before leaving them behind. You had learned to recognize and avoid them based on their behavior. Then there were the men who took pride in pleasing a woman, who liked knowing that you had enjoyed them. However, most of them were so confident in their ability to please you that they never even thought to ask what you desired. Some of them had been skilled lovers, but you quickly got bored of them, as they grew repetitive and too often sought your praise for their performance. So, you were pleasantly surprised by Sihtric's question, but truthfully, you weren't prepared for it. You hesitated for a moment, and suddenly, Sihtric took a half-step back from you, his hands let go of your hips letting your dress drop and went to your shoulders. His fingers softly trailed down your arms until he took hold of your palms and lifted them to his lips placing gentle kisses on your wrists.

“Was I too rush for you? Lady, if you are not sure you want this, please just say a word and I will stop,” his eyes searched yours, filled with questioning. This was entirely new experience for you. Such attentiveness was incredibly uncommon in your world, and you found it so sweet and arousing that it made you shiver in excitement, feeling a hot sensation building up in your lower stomach. You took a step closer to Sihtric, placed your hands on his neck and raised on your tiptoes to reach his lips, kissing him slowly but passionately. You bit his lower lip causing, Sihtric to moan quietly, and you instantly took advantage of his lips parting a bit to enter his mouth with your tongue and deepening the kiss, licking, and sucking at his tongue.

“If I were unsure of what I want, I would have never followed you here,” you smirked, pulling back to catch your breath. Sihtrics eyes darkened with lust and his hands were instantly back on your body, pressing you tightly to his chest, his fingers tracing your back down to your arse, squeezing it tightly only to slide up again caressing your contour. He moved his left hand to your breast, pinching it eagerly, while the other hand took hold of your neck and pulled your head closer to him. His lips were on your cleavage now, placing wet and sloppy kisses there, while his hands started to tug at the lances of your dress.

“Then tell me, what is it that you want, beauty” Sihtric whispered, “What can I do to please you?”

Your head was already spinning, and your pussy was throbbing in desperate need for him. His touch on your body was simultaneously harsh and gentle. His hands were big and rough. They were warrior’s hands used to swinging an axe or holding a sword, but his touch was incredibly gentle as he caressed and fondled your body with his fingertips.

“I want your tongue between my legs. I want you to lick me until I scream your name in pleasure and cum on your tongue,” you murmured in his ear, touching it with your lips, licking it teasingly and biting gently on his ear lip, “And then I want you to fill me with your cock and hump me hard and fast,” you continued and smile started spreading on your face as you heard loud moan escaping Sihtric’s lips desire consuming him at your words.

“Mmm, that is a delicious wish, my lady”, Sihtric chuckled licking his lips. He hastily pulled your dress over your head and dropped it on the floor. While you unfastened your underwear with your hands trembling in desire and anticipation, Sihtric pushed you against the door and sank down on his knees, his hands pulling your underwear to your ankles, so that you could easily step out of it. You felt his hot breath on your skin as he started to place wet, open-mouth kisses on your belly slowly sliding down toward your throbbing pussy. You tilted your head back, leaning heavily at the door, closed your eyes and spread your legs with a loud moan shivering in lust, desperately wanting to feel his tongue on your clit. You could feel his lips getting closer, placing a lingering kiss on your cunt and then with a soft moan his tongue finally slipped over your clit, spreading your folds and licking your pussy until it reached your entrance and then slid back to your clit. The sensation of absolute bliss washed over you, moaning in indescribable pleasure you slid you fingers into his hair and pulled hard on them, while your hips started to move against Sihtric’s tongue. Sihtric growled against your pussy. He certainly knew what he was doing as his wet tongue started to circle your clit with fast movements and his lips nipped and sucked at it.

“Oh yes, Sihtric! Yes, you are so damn good!” you whimpered as he continued licking and sucking your clit, while his fingers were pushing teasingly at your entrance. Your hips were already moving frantically against his tongue as he pushed his fingers deep into your soaked pussy, causing you to release a muffled scream, as he started to fuck you slowly with his fingers. Soft moans were escaping his lips telling you that he enjoyed every single bit of you in this moment and you felt you climax building up quickly.

“I am so close. Ahhh, Sihtric…,” you screamed his name as tears filled your eyes and you reached your high so intensive and strong as you had never felt before. Your thighs were trembling, your head was spinning and your whole body shaking while the waves of pleasure washed over you. Sihtric pulled out his fingers and his strong hands steadied you as you were about to lose your balance, while his tongue made the last slow laps around your clit. You looked down at him with half closed eyes, just to notice the lustful and satisfied smirk on his face as he watched you locking his gaze with yours. Sihtric raised to his feet and without waiting for your high to fade away completely, he grabbed you by your thighs and lifted you up wrapping your legs around his waist. You placed your hands on his shoulders and buried your fingers in his long and curly hair, your body still trembling. Sihtric carried you to the table in the middle of the room and seated you on it positioning himself between your legs. His lips crushed with yours in a passionate, hungry, and deep kiss, while his hands were hastily undoing his breaches. You drove his hands away and took over eagerly. As soon as they were loose enough you slid your hand in his breeches and pulled out his hard and leaking cock, stroking the full length of it and placing it directly at your entrance.

“Are you ready for your second wish?” Sihtric enquired, “Hard and fast?”

“As hard as you can,” you responded and gasped your breath taken away as Sihtric pushed in hard. He gazed at you with a questioning expression, but you just moaned in pleasure digging your nails into his back and enjoying how good his cock filled and stretched your completely soaked pussy. Feeling you adjusted to him, Sihtric slowly pulled almost completely out just to slam back into you harshly. You moaned again, making him fasten his pace, as he started to slam into you harder and deeper.

“Is it hard enough, my greedy lady?” he asked between his own moans of pleasure.

“More, give me more of you and faster,” you begged, leaning back until you were lying on the table surrendering to his lust and giving him the whole control. With a loud groan Sihtric placed your leg over his shoulder, took hold of your hips with his both hands and continued pounding into you, his breathing getting heavy as his own climax was building up. Despite the maddening pace he was not losing his eye contact with you.

“Are you still OK, sweety?” he asked with panting breath, “I don’t want to hurt you. You must tell me if it is too much for you,” he surprised you again with his attentiveness. His cock filled you up perfectly, brushing against your walls and you felt your high approaching fast.

“You are just perfect. Don’t stop… Oh, please just don’t stop. I am so close,” you whimpered looking in his big, mismatched eyes.

“I am close too. Goods… how good you feel! How well you take me… the whole of me…” Sihtric hissed, wetting his thumb with his tongue, and touching your clit. It was the final touch you needed, and you came again moaning loudly, your walls clenching around his cock, your body shaking and back arching against the wooden table. Sihtric followed you a moment later with a loud and hoarse groan. His thrusts became slower and gentler as he allowed you both to savour your highs and calm down. His breath came out in heavy pants as he leaned on the table for support, his eyes scanning every inch of your body. A satisfied smile formed on his face.

"You're incredible," he said, his strong arms pulling you up closer to him, wrapping around your shoulders, and pressing you tightly against his chest.

"You're amazing. I don't want you to leave. Can I accompany you to Bebbanburg?" Sihtric whispered, planting gentle kisses along your neck, collarbone, and back up again. "You're so beautiful and so good to me," he praised, his words intermingled with his affectionate kisses.

The question caught you off guard. A realization dawned upon you—apparently, the young warrior's interest in you extended beyond a good hump. He wanted to get into Bebbanburg and had chosen you as his entrance ticket. At first, you felt a sense of betrayal. But then, you couldn't deny that you hadn't been entirely honest with him either. It seemed both of you had missions to fulfil and were willing to do whatever it took to complete them. Moreover, you had thoroughly enjoyed him tonight as he had turned out to be a delightful distraction on your journey to Bebbanburg to spy for Constantin. There seemed to be no reason to deny yourself the company of this handsome and sweet young Dane. He wanted to get inside Bebbanburg? All right, if allowing him to this opportunity meant continuing to enjoy his good company in your bed for a bit longer, why not? Besides, you were curious about his mission in Bebbanburg as well.

You gazed up at him, a playful expression on your face, and planted a teasing kiss on his lips. "You think you were that good?" you playfully taunted him.

"Didn't you enjoy me? Wasn't I satisfying enough?" Sihtric responded, surprise and dismay evident in his voice. He had been so confident in his lovemaking that hearing the confusion in his voice made you smirk. Hell, he had been good, but you just didn't want to give in too easily.

"I don't know. I haven't made up my mind yet," you continued teasing, your fingertips lightly tracing his broad chest.

"But your sweet little mouth was saying something else just a minute ago," Sihtric countered, his thumb brushing against your lips before leaning in to kiss you. The kiss was gentle, in stark contrast to the intense, passionate, and rough kisses that had consumed your lips moments before. The tenderness of it made you moan with delight and surprise.

"I think I need a little more of you to be certain," you whispered in his ear, gently nibbling his earlobe. "At least a few more nights," you chuckled, and in that moment, he had his answer. You were taking him where he wanted to go.

The following day, Sihtric joined the merchants, weaving a fabricated tale about his desire to see the grand fortress by the sea. However, nobody was fooled. The flushed glances you exchanged, the tell-tale bruises on your neck, and Sihtric's lustful smiles were enough for everyone to understand the true reason behind his decision to accompany the group. Yet, you didn't mind. Cleverly disguising yourself as a wealthy widow had granted you much greater freedom of action, and now it was paying off.

The caravan moved at a slower pace than a lone rider normally would, granting you three whole nights to revel in the company of your newfound lover. Sihtric made sure not to disappoint you. You knew that when this will be over you were going to miss his strong arms wrapped around your waist, his kisses alternating between sweet and gentle, and rough and passionate, leaving you yearning for more, his confident touch on your skin and between your legs. He knew how to please a woman and were eager to showcase his expertise, and you were more than eager to reciprocate. And beyond his physical attractiveness, he proved to be intelligent, humorous, and an attentive listener. After making love, he would hold you close, sharing tales of his adventures—battles fought, and cities visited. In turn, he would inquire about your own experiences, attentively listening as you spoke of your journeys to Frankia and Ireland. Sihtric had mentioned the death of his lord and his intent to travel to Eoferwick, seeking Danish lords who might accept his oath and offer him a place in their service. While you did not believe this story, you kept your suspicions hidden. Sihtric was sweet, kind, attentive and captivating, and it turned out that you cherished his company as much as his body.

On the day you approached Bebbaburg, you started complaining about a heavy headache. The pleasurable part of the journey had come to an end, and you needed a valid excuse to retreat to rest as early as possible and preferably without Sihtric. With only two days to spend in the fortress, time was of the essence. Knowing that Sihtric was likely heading there for a similar purpose as you, you assumed he would be relieved by your sudden illness, as it would free him from your company in the evening, allowing him to focus on his mission. However, you were taken aback by his genuine concern for your well-being.

“Can I do anything for you?" Sihtric asked for the sixth time already, worry etched in his voice. "You look so pale. Would you like to rest inside the wagon and try to sleep during the final miles before we reach the fortress?" His words were accompanied by a touch of genuine concern. You sat at the front of the wagon, leaning against the arch with a pained expression on your face. Sihtric had promptly taken the reins from you the moment you mentioned feeling unwell. He had seated himself beside you, casting worried glances in your direction, occasionally taking your hand or gently caressing your cheek.

"It's alright, Sihtric. I'm not dying. It's just a headache, perhaps I caught a slight cold in this wind," you reassured him with a faint smile.

As the caravan arrived at Bebbanburg early in the evening, you were assigned rooms in the far west wing of the fortress. Lord Wihtgar was absent, but his wife eagerly welcomed the merchants. It seemed that Bebbanburg had not seen many visitors in quite some time. You received an invitation to join an evening meal served for all the travellers, but you excused yourself, citing the persistent headache, and retreated to your room. Sihtric followed you.

"Are you certain you don't want me to stay?" Sihtric asked, brushing his rough fingers against your cheeks and tucking the strands of hair falling into your eyes behind your ear. His behaviour caught you completely off guard. You had expected him to lose interest as soon as he achieved his goal of entering the fortress. Yet, there he stood, gazing at you with his captivating eyes, displaying genuine compassion and concern. He offered to stay by your side or to bring you some food if you weren't up for attending the feast. What was happening? You questioned yourself, perplexed by his unexpected actions.

"That's incredibly thoughtful of you," you smiled warmly, "But please, don't worry. You don't need to stay with me. I simply want to get some rest. Tomorrow, the lady of the fortress will likely negotiate every piece of silk I've brought. I need to be in good shape for that," you reassured him, gently guiding him towards the door. Sihtric wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and leaning in to kiss you.

"I will miss you, my beauty," he whispered, his hand hesitantly gliding down your arm from the elbow to your palm, where he pressed it lightly. Reluctantly, he turned away and made his way toward the great hall.

Sihtric strolled slowly along the lengthy corridor that led to the heart of the fortress. He was profoundly confused by the strange mix of emotions he experienced. When he initially decided to join the caravan, with the help of the young and attractive widow among the merchants, he had regarded it as nothing more than a pleasant side effect of his mission. However, the few days he had spent with you had stirred something unfamiliar within him.

You were not merely a beautiful and passionate lover; you possessed intelligence, authority, and a strength he had seldom encountered in women before. You had taken over your husband’s trade and had proven your competence and skill in what you were doing. Having travelled through various kingdoms, you possessed a wealth of captivating stories about distant places and people. You held your own opinions and fearlessly defended and debated them.

Tired and breathless after your passionate lovemaking, exhaustion and contentment settling upon both of you, Sihtric cherished the hours that followed. Lying together, wrapped in each other's arms, he held you close, breathing in your scent with his nose nestled against your neck, and enjoyed just talking to you. As the grand silhouette of Bebbanburg emerged on the horizon, Sihtric realized, to his surprise, that he did not want this journey to end so soon. He had hoped for at least one more night with you within the fortress's walls.

His mind was spinning with thoughts how to prolong the journey, to find a means to stay by your side or convince you to abandon the caravan and return with him to the village where Finan was waiting. Yet, he knew the thought was ludicrous. Why on earth would a wealthy, intelligent, and beautiful widow with her own successful trade choose to follow him to Cocchem? And even if she did, what would happen next? He had no answers to those questions. Sihtric had wanted to express his feelings, to share his emotions with you, but the words failed him. With a hesitant sigh, he had turned away reluctantly, making his way down the corridor. He had a mission to fulfil, and now that you were unwell and had declined his company, he believed it was the best moment to explore the fortress.

Descending into the inner yard, Sihtric leisurely strolled around the palisades and ramparts, meticulously memorizing their placement and assessing the potential number of men they could accommodate. As he neared the completion of his observations, a sudden noise jolted him. The hurried footsteps behind him hinted that someone was approaching, and Sihtric swiftly turned to face the person who was supposed to emerge from the shadows. Yet, before he could react, a blade was pressed against his throat from behind, and four guards emerged from a nearby pathway, accompanied by one of the traders scurrying behind them.

"It's him! He's Uhtred's man, I'm certain of it! I've seen them together in Lundene and Winchester. There's another one, an Irishman with a beard, but he stayed back at the village. It's just this damn Dane who joined us," the trader, who turned out to be one of the spies reporting to Wihtgar, hissed, pointing his finger at Sihtric.

"Take this piece of shit to the dungeon. Secure him properly," commanded one of the guards, seemingly in charge. "You are responsible for him with your life. Lord Wihtgar will return at latest in two days and will want answers from him."

Sihtric's face contorted with a scowl as the guards bound his hands, but he offered no resistance. It was pointless, with a blade pressed against his throat and four armed guards surrounding him. The plan had clearly gone wrong, terribly wrong, he thought to himself.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #tlk fic #sihtric fic

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roguishcat · 23 days

Text

Conversations with a vampire - part 3/10

A/N: I'm still getting used to how Tumblr works, but if you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to send me a message or leave a comment. :)

Summary: A story told through a series of conversations between Astarion and child Tav, tracing the slow and steady progress of trust and friendship.

Humor/Friendship/Angst

Rating: Teen. Mild language, mentions of abuse in later chapters, some violence.

Setting: Set before the events of the game.

When Astarion opened the door to the upstairs room of the tavern, the child was already there. Tav beamed as she saw him walk in and waved him over. Astarion walked to one of the beds, making a point of ignoring her enthusiasm.

How did she even know that he would be here?

Astarion sat down on the bed and opened the book he found on the counter earlier that evening, making it clear that he was not here to entertain her. Surprisingly, Tav did not try to speak to him, although she seemed itching to say something. couldn’t possibly be anything interesting, probably just typical chatter about nothing and everything. And he did not feel like making small talk in general and now in particular.

Cazador would most certainly be displeased that he did not return to the palace, so Astarion was determined to enjoy whatever fragile semblance of normality he could find. That is, indulging in some reading. Astarion did not look up, allowing time to pass leisurely, not at all bothered by silence that seemed strenuous for Tav.

Tav huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t sure what she did to deserve the silent treatment, but he definitely wasn’t speaking to her first. And Tav wasn’t really sure how to start their conversation today.

Astarion reminded her a bit of the stray cats she would sometimes try to befriend. And just like the cats, who hissed and spat no matter how much she cooed and offered them treats, Astarion made a point to show that he would rather be left alone.

She was always a complete delight, if she said so herself, and she gave Astarion the potions each time they ran into each other, but his eyes would narrow in suspicion as a frown would tug at his lips. Each time, he would stare at her and her offerings in skepticism. It was very obvious that he did not trust her. Although maybe he did not trust anyone at all. She did not care much about his reasons, it just she was so bored, and he seemed so interesting.

Today was the first time she saw him in daylight. Or dim tavern light, as they were indoors. Both were reading books, Astarion lounging on a bed whilst Tav propped herself up against a wall opposite him. Tav wasn’t really reading, which was quite obvious as the last time she turned a page was about 30 pages ago for him. She was looking at him discretely under long, light lashes. Well, in a way that Tav thought was discrete, to Astarion her admiration could not be more obvious. But it kept her quiet for now, so he decided to allow it. In a way, her artless childish curiosity did not bother him, unlike the usual leering stares he was on the receiving end of.

Tav’s blue eyes traced the contours of his face, the way he moved his hand across the pages of the book, the way his eyes would widen or narrow just a fraction from time to time. It was the first time she saw him so relaxed. Usually, he would be out working the crowd and flirting in a tavern or glaring at her in annoyance.

He could stay so still, almost as if he wasn’t breathing at all, at least she could not make out the rise and fall of his chest. Maybe this was a rogue skill? She tried imitating him, holding her breath until it was painful, then taking a few greedy, gasping breaths.

Astarion was still reading.

“You know, I really hate my lessons,” she finally gave up trying to be quiet and shut the book she was meant to be reading – ‘Grand Estates. The fifty nifty tricks to effortless magnificence’. “Especially learning spells. It’s so boring and tiring. I’m terrible at magic and my teacher could definitely be in the running for the dullest award. Why can’t I just use something enthused with magic?”

“And what happens if someone takes all your things and rings and finery?” Astarion replied without looking up. “You would be dead in seconds.”

“I just feel so dumb! The wizard that comes in to teach me just drones on and on, so I just say I get it to make him shut up,” she whined. “I like knives and daggers. I’m not too bad at picking locks too.”

“Well, I doubt that whatever your family has in mind for you is remotely related to petty theft.”

“I’ve never met my family.”

Astarion said nothing to that revelation, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

Today Tav was dressed in a light lilac coat and trousers set with delicate flowers embroidered along the hems. Another fine set of clothes that she did not mind getting dirty by sitting on the less-than-clean floor. Her hair was carefully combed and arranged with silver clips. For a child who claimed to be abandoned, she looked incredibly well-looked-after.

“Let’s say that I believe you,” he drawled, for once interested in what she had to say, but not wanting it to show. “Am I to understand that you are supposed to be a poor orphan without a place to stay?”

“Well obviously I have a place to live, don’t be silly.”

Tav paused, her fingers playing with the hem of her coat as she bit her bottom lip nervously.

“I live in Sharess’ Caress.”

“Ha! Well, at least now I understand where those comments about prostitutes came from!” he laughed, remembering how scandalized he was to hear that coming from one so young. “Although,” Astarion frowned, “I didn’t think that they would have a child in such an establishment.”

Her guardians, whoever they were, must have had a very twisted sense of humour or complete disregard for the girl. Because he couldn’t imagine what her parents would have to be like to choose to insert a child into that kind of environment.

Tav scoffed and rolled her eyes, a gesture that she seemed to be using more and more. Must be reaching that annoying age that everyone complains about. Yet another reason why children were the worst.

“Well, obviously I don’t just go into the main building where everyone is entertained. I have a separate entrance protected by a magic barrier, no one would be able to find or go into my room unless Mamzell Amira actually brought them inside. And I have something on me that transports me directly to the room, so… it’s pretty safe, I guess?”

She pulled her trouser leg up slightly, revealing a shimmering silvery band around her right ankle. “This also means I can’t wander far; I will just be transported straight to my room.”

So she was tethered to the place, which explained why he would never see her in the Lower City.

“I don’t know where all the money, clothes and books come from. Or whom I belong to. I’m not even allowed to know my name.”

Call me Tav, she said.

“I can’t complain,” she went on, looking down at her shoes. “I’m treated very well. Better than I deserve to be treated. I am not easy to have around. But.. I don’t have anything or anyone I can call my own.”

“Oh, come now,” Astarion felt an uncharacteristic urge to say something in reply, “It could be worse. You have all these lovely things, all those magic trinkets you like, the money to buy more with.”

“Yes. But I don’t even know what I look like!” she protested, the book in her lap falling onto the floor. She wasn’t speaking particularly loudly, but what she lacked in volume she made up in intensity. “This isn’t what I really look like. I don’t know what is my real eye colour, or if I am really a half-elf, anything really,” her voice cracked, and she took a deep, steadying breath.

Astarion gave her his full undivided attention. Family, heritage, they were building blocks of a person. She was like a castle built on sand. Such unreliable, fickle foundation. How peculiar. A child who seems to want for nothing wants nothing more than to know herself. She wasn’t simply careless, as he previously thought. Her recklessness, wildness even, made so much more sense now.

“I’m sorry,” he said because this was probably what needed to be said at a moment like this.

“No, you are not. But that’s okay,” she looked down at her hands. “I know that sometimes you just have to wait. Wait till the day that they will be sorry. Sorry for doing this to me,” she looked straight at him, as if daring him to say otherwise.

The look in her eyes changed. Her whole demeanor changed. The tilt of her chin, the straightening of her back. This was a child walking the thin line between good and evil, precariously balancing between what she wanted to be and what the world would mould her into. Even a gentle gust could push her off the precipice. He wondered what would that moment be, the life-changing event that would forever wipe the sweetness from her eyes. Because if he knew this cruel world, and he definitely knew the full extent of its wickedness, this sweetness would not last.

A moment passed, then another. Tav took a deep breath and gave a little smile. “Wanna hear a joke?”

“What did a tailor say when he ran out of thread? It’s sew over. Get it?”

“What?” Astarion blinked.

Apparently that meant that he agreed, because she seemed to forget all about her melancholy mood in favour of telling him the most awful, tired and aggravating jokes.

“This is terrible,” Astarion said sincerely. Child or not, puns and dad jokes were inexcusable.

“But I-”

“Wait, I’ve got another one! This one is good.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“No,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Tav pouted playfully and stood up on slightly shaking legs. “Ouch, pins and needles. Ouch, ouch,” she muttered under her breath. “I think I’m gonna go, here is your potion. I still have dance and can’t remember what else today. Probably going to get an earful for playing hooky.”

*****

After she left, it was suddenly too quiet. Which is exactly what he wanted, of course. To be left alone in peace and quiet to enjoy a rare moment of respite. But not having someone talking his ear off gave him space to let his mind wander. Astarion thought about what his own childhood was like. He could hardly remember anything after the night he was turned. Just bare bones of his life, no emotions, no faces from the past. He had been a magistrate. His ruling against a Gur had been his undoing. Cazador was his salvation turned nightmare.

Sometimes he wondered what happened to his family, colleagues, lovers. Were any of them still alive? Did they search for him once he disappeared? Did they think of him? And if they did, what emotions did those thoughts inspire? Tenderness, want, hatred?

The air was changing as nighttime approached, he could sense the shadows envelop the city in their embrace. It was almost time for his hunt. Perhaps in a different part of the city today, it’s been a while since he visited the Blushing Mermaid.

As he rose from the bed, Astarion noticed that Tav left her book behind, her handkerchief bookmarking the place she was supposedly reading. He lifted the cloth square. It was of fine quality, but quite bare, surprisingly without any embellishments.

He pocketed it.

Perhaps he would give it back next time he saw her. Because judging by how stubbornly she sought him out, there would be a next time.

@ayselluna

#astarion tav fanfiction #fanfic #astarion #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction

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shivunin · 1 year

Text

Stack the Deck

(Maria Hawke/Fenris | 1,310 words | Fluff | no warnings)

Fenris could have caught Hawke before she reached the stairs if he’d really been trying, but that probably wasn’t the point.

Hawke had left the Hanged Man when he’d excused himself for a few moments, and he’d been chasing after her since he’d returned to the table to find her gone. He knew quite well what she was doing, because she’d spent the whole evening “accidentally” running her fingers over the inside of his wrist, whispering so close to his ear that her lips often skimmed the sensitive skin, and tilting her head back in the way that occasionally exposed the small red marks at the joint of her neck.

She’d also been cheating at cards to no avail, but that was nothing new. Fenris hardly noticed it anymore, since Hawke slipped the extra cards into his belt more often than not these days. As he jogged up the stairs to Hightown, he retrieved three from his waistband alone. He would almost certainly find more tucked away on his person when he finally reached her manor and disrobed.

Perhaps this sort of thing was odd to do with one’s lover, but Fenris didn’t especially care. He could hear her laughing from here, after all, and the sound of it lightened his steps. As he rounded the corner at last, he spotted Hawke at her manor door, stepping into the firelit foyer.

“Hawke,” he called, speeding up.

She held the door open for him, beaming across the courtyard as if she hadn’t seen him in days.

“Oh, dear,” she said, with not an ounce of concern in her voice. “You’ve caught me.”

“You didn’t hide yourself very well, if that’s what you were trying to do,” Fenris told her as he stepped through the door. She swung it shut behind her with a soft click and he caught her waist in his hands, pressing her back against the wood.

“Heavens,” Hawke said, still smiling, “how forward, messere.”

“I seem to recall having you twice before breakfast,” he murmured, kissing her cheek as he spoke. “How could this possibly be forward, Hawke?”

She seemed disinclined to explain herself, and laughed breathlessly when his lips trailed over the curve of her ear. Fenris huffed and directed his next words there in a murmur.

“Was there a reason for this little game, or did you tease me all night so I would chase you home?”

“Hm?” she said, angling her head away.

Fenris obliged the silent request and nipped at the soft skin of her neck. It felt just as good as it had this morning.

“I’m winning a bet,” she said after a moment.

Fenris leaned back to look at her, brows raised.

“Oh! No, not that,” she said, and produced a playing card from her sleeve with the casual flick of her fingers.

If he hadn’t known better, Fenris might have thought it was magic, but no—these were only the skills she’d learned as a pickpocket when her family had first come to Lowtown. She’d solemnly sworn never to pretend to pull a coin from his ear again, but that hadn’t kept her from producing various other objects from elsewhere on his person or her own.

“The Angel of Death?” he asked, reading the card, “Were you losing all night on purpose?”

“Yes and no,” she laughed, producing another card, then another, and another, from her sleeves, then her decolletage, then her belt, and so on. When she finally stopped, Fenris was staring at more than half a deck stacked neatly in her left hand.

“And the bet?” he said after a moment. She smiled again, eyes lit from within, and produced a card from behind his back.

“That I wouldn’t make it out of the Hanged Man before Varric realized I’d taken most of his Wicked Grace deck,” she said, and plucked yet another card from the front of his belt. “Angel of Temerity. I was proud of that one.”

“Of course you were,” Fenris said, resting a hand against the door beside her head. “What have you won?”

“Two sov off of Isabela,” she said, tipping her head up so she could meet his eyes. “Would’ve been three, but I couldn’t quite get the last of the Angels. I think she had it in her bosom all along, the blighted pirate.”

Ah.

Slowly, Fenris reached into his pocket and pulled two cards from it. One was the Knight of Dawn, but the other…

Hawke gasped.

“No!” she said, reaching up to touch the second card. “Fortitude! But how?”

“I take my cards with me when I leave the table,” Fenris told her, extending the cards. “Or someone would steal them.”

Hawke gasped and would have pressed a hand to her chest, but he’d caught her fingers when she’d reached for his cards.

“I would never,” she said, the dimples on either side of her mouth deepening despite the solemnity of her words.

“Never,” Fenris said flatly, not letting go of the pair of cards, “and yet you are doing so now.”

“You offered!” Hawke protested. “Fine, then. What do you want for them?”

Fenris considered her for a moment. The long walk to Hightown had brought a flush to her cheeks. Her hair, formerly wound into her customary braid, had already begun to come loose. Ringlets sprung from its twined length and brushed against her neck. Beneath dark brows, her eyes laughed at him.

“What are you offering?” he countered, leaning closer.

“Nothing you couldn’t have for the asking,” she laughed. “A kiss for the two of them.”

“No.”

“You don’t even want them!” Hawke protested.

The skin at the corners of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled; Fenris marked it whenever it happened.

Especially when he was the one who’d made her smile.

“But you do,” he said, keeping his grip on the cards she was trying to tug away. “Two apiece and I will let go.”

“One apiece,” she countered, “and that’s my final offer. Surely you wouldn’t haggle with your dearest beloved over so—”

Fenris cut off the rest of her sentence with a kiss, and caught the edge of her smile on his lower lip for his haste. He did not mind it, of course. Hawke was smiling half the time when they kissed regardless, and feeling the shift in her when she turned her full attention to him was a pleasure in and of itself.

“One,” she murmured, tilting her head away. She returned to him before he could think of something to say in return. This time, she let go of the cards and traced the line of his jaw as she kissed him, fingertips running along bone until they reached his chin.

“Two,” he began when she pulled away, but she was kissing him again before the rest of the syllable tripped from his tongue.

This kiss lasted the longest of all, until Fenris was leaning harder against the hand he’d braced against the wall, until he’d half-forgotten what they were still doing in her foyer at all. When she tipped her head away at last, he blinked at her for a moment, surprised at the sudden absence of her.

“That has to count for at least four,” she said, and Fenris felt something brush against his ear.

“Thank you, my dear,” she added. Fenris turned his head.

The cards. Of course she was holding the cards.

“Why argue,” he asked, taking a step back, “if you intended to take them in the first place?”

“It was the principle of the thing,” Hawke said, shrugging.

Fenris scoffed and shook his head, but she only smiled up at him and pushed off the door.

“Come on, then,” she said, hooking her fingers into his belt and tugging lightly. “Let me give you the rest.”

And Fenris, as they’d both known he would, followed gladly.

#fenris #fenris dragon age #maria hawke #fenhawke #da2 #my writing #da fanfic #doing a quiet dance in my office because i finished a whole piece c:#and my special yarn gets here today so i can go back to working on my fenris scarf!#anyways i love them and i think the idea of maria constantly pretending to pull things from behind his back and/or his ear is so funny #bc he is so deadpan most of the time #au where she is a stage magician and he is a begrudging audience participant #oops. now i gotta add it to the story idea list #shivunin scrivening

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occasionallyprosie · 3 months

Text

A Thousand Ways

Chapter 4: "Mind Leaps"

Legend prevents an assassination, beats up some knights, and learns some things!

First | <<Previous | Next>>

Event Masterlist

Read On AO3

Warnings: panic attacks, cursing

Over the next couple days, his magic was coming back but was still rather dismal.

He still followed Zelda almost unceasingly, he'd gotten a dream that night—not one unlike the one that began his first adventure— about the other heroes in battle, they were fine at the end of it, nothing seemed off except how they mentioned they had no idea where he was, they didn't even seem in danger.

That was it, and a voice that he knew to be Farore's telling him to rest, they'd come to him.

As much as he disliked it, he did as told. He was enjoying it with Zelda and her kids, even if the guards made him want to crawl into a hole and hide all day.

During some meeting in the throne room, Legend sort of off to the side and just kind of watching everything play out as the army general, the court mage, and a few other important figures were discussing with Zelda about the safety of the kingdom.

He saw a tapestry bend and curl in the wind, he nearly dismissed it before he realized: there was no wind.

The carpet flattened.

Legend darted forward. He dove in front of the queen, ignoring outraged cries and swords being unsheathed.

A throwing knife cut into his hand as he caught it out of the air. With far less strength than he was used to, so using far more energy than he would prefer to make up for it.

The advisors, queen, and guards froze.

He didn't hesitate, he tackled the invisible person with ease, found their neck, and held the blade there.

"Drop the illusion," he snarled. "Or taste your own blade."

In an instant, he met the hazel eyes of a young mage of some kind, an assassin obviously.

"Guards!" The queen called.

Legend got up quickly as the guards rushed them. He hoped desperately they didn't grab him, and tried not to flinch when one bumped him. They seized the assassin.

"You bastard!" The assassin yelled. "You--devil! Nobody could see through that spell! Blessed by the hatred god, you are! The queen employs demons!"

Legend scoffed. If only they realized he'd wielded the Triforce three times over.

With a barked command from Zelda, the assassin was dragged away. Legend spun the knife in his hand, he had full intentions of keeping it. That was his policy, if someone attacks him with a knife and doesn't kill him, he keeps the knife. They'd have to take it back to get it back.

"Link," Zelda called and he turned to her. She gave him a soft smile. "Thank you. Well done."

A surge of warmth hit him. He ducked his head and gave an awkward half bow, hoping his ears weren't as pink as they were warm. He slipped back to his corner, but not out of awareness as the advisors and guards were far more aware of him.

He was far more aware too, senses as far as he could push them without magic. He wasn't letting anyone hurt Zelda, she was a friend to one of the other heroes at the least, and at most she was Fable's ancestor or descendant, that was plenty reason.

He leaned against the wall and spun his new knife, watching everything closely for the slightest, wrong move.

Rumor spread quickly throughout Hyrule Castle, Legend was well aware of that and he was unsurprised that that fact held true in this era.

At breakfast, Alphon suggested Legend join him for the day and they could see where his fighting skills were at.

Legend hated that idea, but he kept his mouth shut as Zelda agreed on the condition that Legend was fine with it.

Though he'd much rather be with the almost-assassinated queen, he knew that there would be many more guards around her and he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with that the whole day.

So he compromised and agreed to go with Alphon for the morning and rejoin Zelda after lunch.

In the training grounds, Alphon got Legend a sword and had him spar with him. He won within a couple minutes, it was a remarkably hard spar, not exactly challenging but it was harder than he expected.

However, that cued basically the whole grounds of knights to try and one up each other by fighting him. He didn't know whose Hyrule this was yet, but their guards' skills were abysmal and disappointing.

They gradually got more and more angry, most calling him kid, boy, lad, or some other child term. Legend knew he didn't look all that old, he frankly wasn't that old at all, and that definitely infuriated the guards as he won again and again, only breaking a sweat after some dozen spars.

Sure, his magic may have been low, but he was physically fine. He knew perfectly well how to fight without any magical items, despite what Warriors may say. This was his first adventure without having to start over from scratch concerning equipment.

He stumbled over roots and weaved past the great trees all around him, running rapidly through the forest, adrenaline pumping through his veins as angered yells and roars of fury followed him, rabid barks echoed and sharp teeth gnashed at his heels.

He ran. Fear took hold as he tore through the forest, thunder booming overhead and rain pouring around him. His tunic was soaked, his boots couldn't get true traction on the ground, tree branches smacked him in the face or cut up his hands as he shoved them away.

"GET HIM!" A gruff, angry voice roared with the thunder.

Teeth knashed at his back and Link ran.

He had to get away. He couldn't—He couldn't let them catch him. They catch him and he's dead. Agahnim would have him killed in the blink of an eye.

"DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY!"

Arrows flew past his head and Link's throat tried to close up as fear replaced the blood pumping through him. He tripped over a root and fell to the ground.

A boot landed on his wrist and he tried to hold back a scream, the stone floor of his cell was wet and soaked his back. The boot crushed and twisted and he screamed.

Laughter echoed above him, faces filled with glee were blurred by painful tears.

"Please," he begged. "Please don't—" his voice was cut off by another scream of pain as the same treatment given to his wrist was applied to his ankle. He could feel each bone shatter and twist and break. His voice gave out and he tried to get free.

He was slammed into the wall, shackles holding him up and he slumped limply. His head was dragged up by his hair and he whimpered pitifully.

"No--don't--I'm sorry. I'm sorry--please, please don't--"

"Sorry ain't gonna save you," the familiar voice chuckled lowly. He twisted against the bonds.

His wrists were held fast while senseless begging fell from his lips. Pain still flared through him, a blade driven into his stomach, just off-center, and twisted.

A strained, quiet sob was ripped from him just as the blade was, his body sagged and he gave up.

Nobody could survive the wounds he had. He was dead. Killed in a cell, tortured to death by soldiers.

A soft song overcame the laughter and angered threats and taunting jeers. Quiet humming and the chains around him tightened.

He sobbed, trying desperately to escape, he didn't want to die.

"I don't—please, no, I don't want to die—" he begged.

"You deserve to die!" Marin stood in front of him as he fell to his knees. "You killed us!" She cried, tears streaming down her face. "All of us!"

Behind her stood the people of Koholint.

"No!" he sobbed. "No, please—I didn't—I-I—Don’t do this. Please--"

"Face it. If ya had just stayed in bed li'e I told ya to, everythin' would've been fine," Uncle said bluntly, that disappointed face glaring down at him.

"Uncle please—I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"You're sorry?" Wind demanded angrily. "You left us, Vet! You left us!"

"And to think I looked up to you," Hyrule recoiled.

He screamed, senselessly apologizing and begging.

He needed it to stop. He needed all of it to just stop.

The song grew a bit louder, a bit more real, and the chains grew warm.

He fought against them, fearing for heated metal against his skin, it wouldn't be the first time. He sobbed and tried to escape, but the chains were wound tighter and the soft humming became a bit more prominent and then—he recognized it.

It wasn't the song Fi used to sing to him, hers was the slightest bit different. The Song of the Hero, she had called it.

This was one that he remembered far deeper, from a time he had no memory of, he shouldn't know this song but it was there and it brought peace, warmth, and safety.

The yelling faded, the screaming and the pain, it all slowly faded. Thunder still boomed and he still choked on a sob from it, an ocean trying to rise around him, but the soft song held it back, held him at peace.

It all faded, all of it.

Legend startled, registering that he was wrapped up in someone's arms. They were warm and something about them made his magic coo safe.

He slumped further into them, memories of his nightmares causing him to shake.

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay," they whispered into his hair, his mind too muddled and their voice too muffled for him to place their voice or presence. "I got you. It's alright, dear heart."

He choked on a sob, clinging to their front and trembling badly. He couldn't care for who it was, just that they were safe.

"I know," they murmured. "It's okay. Just breathe, you're alright."

It took a long time before he properly come to his senses. He realized it was Zelda who held and soothed him. He jerked away once he realized that, stared at her and her soft, concerned face, then buried his blazing face into his hands and muffled a whine of embarrassment.

She had the audacity to laugh at him, drawing a hand through his hair.

"It is no shame to need comfort." She kissed the top of his head and he went rigid. "Alphon said he told you our thoughts. You may say what you like about blood, but be as it may, magic does not lie and yours is that of my son's. So long as the goddesses will it, I will always be here for you."

Legend shuddered and slumped back into her. She easily hugged him close.

"I'm sorry," he gasped out. "I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry—"

"Shh, none of that," she chided. "You have done nothing wrong."

"You don't know that." You don't know me.

"I know that the boy who unhesitatingly threw himself between a flying knife and myself, and who I've been watching play house with two children, couldn't have done anything to deserve the fear you hold."

He didn't respond to that.

Legend found the library and hid in there for the whole day. He needed to be alone for a while.

He found the history books and went as far back as they had, then worked his way forward. He paced up and down the shelves, tracing lines in a book he could hardly read. He found a book that translated to ancient Hylian and managed to reverse it and learn the current Hylian. Sky had memorized whose Hylian's were which, Legend had not. Nonetheless, this one wasn't that far off from his own. Their ancient Hylian was the same, at least.

They had the Heroes of the Four Sword, the Hero of Men, even a book or two on the Hero of the Sky and the Founding of Hyrule. But the next hero was where it was different.

It spoke of the Hero of Time, a child who told the king of how the King of Thieves was a traitor to the crown and intended to kill them.

It spoke of this hero's journey, and Legend covered his mouth in slight horror.

The Fallen Hero was the one who faced the King of Thieves, it was the Fallen Hero who'd come from the forest and fought the Gerudo King as a young child and then again as a teenager.

Not this... Hero of Time--Wind called the Old Man the Hero of Time, oh!

Time had mentioned how the timeline must've split, that he'd left behind another timeline where his Ganondorf won for seven years until Time did defeat him and then went back in time to prevent it all. The timeline he left became Wind's time and then the one Time lived in would one day become Twilight's era.

But these books, the history and the dates—

Someway, somehow, Time was the Fallen Hero.

Legend had spent a few hours searching the library for every account on the Old Man, even learning the circumstances of his death, then he turned and searched for the next history book.

He needed to know whose world he was in. Twilight's? Warriors' maybe? Zelda didn't seem to be the warrior queen Warriors spoke of, nor Impa the war general. He hadn't met any time sorcerers so—

Books on the Twilight Realm, which Twilight himself had mentioned once but never elaborated on. It was Twilight's era then...

He found a book about recent history that was probably far more accurate and personal to Twilight's adventure than the ancient ones about Time.

Legend didn't read it.

The sun was setting.

He slipped unnoticed through the castle and managed to arrive somewhat on time for dinner like Zelda had asked him to.

He didn't quite escape the nightmares that night, but Zelda had been there and ushered them away with that hauntingly familiar song.

Legend shadowed Zelda the next day, this time with a book in his hands. It was in some odd language similar to Lorulean, Zelda hadn't questioned his reading choice nor even looked at it, but he was enjoying the puzzle that was deciphering the language.

It was some mix of Lorulean, Sheikah, and Gerudo. Close enough to the three that he was confident in his ability to decipher it. It was a magic book, definitely, spells he was certain weren't quite dark in nature, it was close to shadow magic, which he had absolutely no capability to use. He had tried once, when his Impa agreed to see if his aptitude for magic applied to it as well, but lo' and behold, he couldn't muster the slightest bit of even mildly dark magic.

He ended up having a new book the next day, and this one was far easier to read and on magic he could, theoretically, achieve.

Zelda had recognized the book, and so most of their day was spent discussing it and Zelda talking him through how to actually achieve it.

His magic was almost full, he didn't have any intentions to use it until it hit full. It tended to deplete slower when he let it fully replenish rather than drain it when it was almost full.

That night after dinner was when he felt it click, he sighed softly, tension rolling off his shoulders and relief hitting him as his magic finally finished replenishing.

That morning, he told Zelda what was going on.

The black blooded monsters, the time travel, that he needed to find his way back to the group, she had been quiet for a time.

"Let me teach you some offensive magic," she requested. "You can leave at first light tomorrow."

He stared at her. "Wait what?"

"We'll arm you to your liking and send you off with plenty of supplies, obviously, but let me teach you some magic in case you lose your equipment again."

He hadn't expected the easy agreement, the belief, or the offer.

He agreed.

They spent the day doing magic, careful not to use too much of Legend's too quickly. He got the hang of the teleportation spell pretty quickly as well as the spinning shield.

Zelda called the teleportation 'Farore's Wind' and the shield spell 'Nayru's Love', the third thing she was teaching was 'Din's Fire'.

Apparently they were spells only learnable by those who wielded the Triforce, any part of it, and she had learned it from the ghost of her ancestor who founded Hyrule. He wondered if Twilight had learned it and just chose not use it.

She had some servants get together a bag of supplies and said she'd have a sword ready for him by dawn. Legend hadn't expected that much help, but thanked her nonetheless.

To wind down, Legend spent the evening with the prince and princess. They ended up demanding another story after he told them as gently as he could that he'd be leaving soon.

He went to sleep, hoping for no more nightmares.

Next>>

#febuwhump 2024 #linked universe #lu legend #linkeduniverse #legend lu #fanfic #lu fanfiction #linked universe fanfic #lu dusk #loz timeline #panic attack #light whump #prosie writes #a thousand ways au

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erdogan-nevra · 1 month

Text

Left Behind

Date: March 16th and beyond

Locations: London, Porto

Medea was silent in the chair next to her. Or as next to her as she could be as they were in separate pods across the aisle. She doubted the woman wanted to talk but even if she did, it would have been drowned out by the constant thrum of the airplane.

Nevra had never demanded anything from the Rutherfords in the entirety of her employment. They likely would have given her whatever she asked for, within reason, but she had never taken advantage of that. Advantage of their generosity and what giving it to people meant. Most would mistake it for loyalty or comradeship. A chance to tell the people who worked for them that they cared when really it was a chance to show the rest of the world how much fucking money they had.

Fine, let them throw it around. The eleven hour flight would be more bearable in first class.

“Wait, I’m coming. Wait, wait!” The knock had been soft at first but grew the longer she took to disentangle herself from her blanket cocoon on the couch. The hallways of her little cottage was already narrow and when Sabir zigged the same time she did, Nevra found her knees slamming to the carpet. She shook her head and nudged the dog away, talking loudly before she even opened the door.

“I didn’t think you’d come thi-”

Ayaz. Not who she’d expected to see but Nevra smiled nonetheless. Maybe he’d remembered her birthday as well and was bored enough to come wish her so in person. She crossed her arms and put on a small pout.

“I hope my present is hiding somewhere in your coat because I don’t see one and I’ll be honest, if you didn’t get me anything, I might just cry.”

It took her three more beats to understand that he wasn’t there to wish her a happy birthday.

What was that look on his face?

“Ayaz?”

“Nev, let’s go inside.”

She didn’t know why but her heart started racing as he put a hand on her back and shut the door behind them.

We will be landing in Porto Velho in twenty minutes. Please have your arrival card and any items to declare ready and in hand.

She could feel Medea’s side eye and decided to ignore it. Neither were traveling as their namesake and both had only a carry on. A few changes of clothes was all that was needed for this trip.

The plane rolled into port with a soft bump. Nevra was on her feet in seconds.

“Easy there.” Medea’s voice snaked through her consciousness, squeezing uncomfortably, suffocating her with its very presence.

Ayaz had suggested the woman come with her and when Nevra had told him she didn’t need a babysitter, he shrugged. Yet her arrival at Heathrow and the sight of his ex-wife told Nevra enough. They didn’t trust her, not right now. Not with-

Nevra smiled at the customs worker. When they’d gotten off the plane and ended up here was beyond her. Everything blurred together now. “No, nothing to declare. Just here for a business trip.” Her face remained calm and inviting. Learning to play different parts had been one of the main skills she’d learned as an assassin. She’d never imagined she’d be using it in her daily life just to reassure people she wasn’t going to throw herself off a bridge.

Medea was next to her again. The Turk could feel her resisting the urge to take her elbow and guide her to the car that was waiting outside. Both women knew what would happen if she touched Nevra. She’d practically bit her head off at Heathrow to prove it. So unlike her. Then again, none of her actions had been like her the past few days.

What would he think of it all?

“Nevra, did you hear what I said?”

Dead.

The snap of fingers echoed in the air.

The person she’d chosen to love was dead.

The person who had chosen to love her was dead.

He was dead.

Fingers wrapped around her wrists, pressure building each moment she kept silent.

She had always been the one to leave when things came down to it. Her community, her friends, her fiancé. Nevra always made the choice. It never made it any easier but she had always been in control of who entered and left her life. That way she always knew who to blame when those horrible days eventually showed their faces.

Who could she blame for this?

Not herself.

The drug dealer? Absolutely.

The women and men who joined him for god knows how long until he’d been the unfortunate victim of a bad batch? Sure.

Kerem and his anger, his unfuckingreasonable anger toward their situation? If she tried hard enough.

Not herself though.

But Berat…

“Nevra, come back.”

No, she would never, could never blame him. She had chosen him and she wouldn’t blame that person. Even if-

So now she was the one left behind and god did it fucking suck. A harsh laugh escaped her lips. She finally noticed Ayaz and saw the look of concern at her outburst.

Blood splattered her face as the assassin pulled the trigger of the gun resting at the base of the man’s skull. It was messier than normal but he hadn’t come quietly and she was pissed off enough not to care. Medea on the other hand looked less than pleased. Blood also splattered the toes of her shoes. She took one look at Nevra’s blood covered face and audibly exhaled through her nose.

“At least you used a silencer.” She could barely hear the words over the roaring in her head and the sounds of passing cars on the street at the end of the alley.

A burner phone appeared in the older woman’s hand. A quick picture and a moment before confirmation before she tossed it into a barrel, followed by a lit match. A tiny part of Nevra wanted to burn the dead man as well but that wasn’t the job. This job was finished.

She took out her own phone and pressed the name at the top. Three rings before it picked up. Time difference, right. He wouldn’t care though, not really.

“Another one.”

Ayaz sighed on the other line and he kept silent for a moment, no doubt debating how long he should indulge her desire to lose herself.

“There’s a woman in Launceston…”

“You’re sure? No possibility you’re wrong?” Her throat felt like she’d eaten a handful of gravel. She felt her hands begin to shake in Ayaz’s grip. A shake of his head and a slight bow but he never averted her eyes. Never severed that last tether of support she needed.

Nevra looked toward the front door and slowly allowed the realization that Berat would never walk through it again to wash over her. How was she supposed to get through everything without him?

They’d talked for hours and nights on end of how it had been so simple to choose each other. How, once they’d said screw it and thrown caution to the wind, life had been so much happier. Their happiness had been a choice, her choice.

This was not her choice.

This is what it felt like to be left behind.

If he was going to leave her behind, then she was going to leave everyone else behind too.

“Give me a job.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t said in anger or sadness or despair. It wasn’t a want but a need.

It looked like he was going to refuse her so she shook her head. No, don’t stop me.

“Give me a job.”

The second plane was just as comfortable as the first had been. First class again, only this time Medea had done something unexpected. She’d bought out the entire first class. Nevra knew she was standing at the back of the area talking to the hostesses. She didn’t care what she was telling them. No one bothered her though.

As the woman settled in the back, the Turk settled in the front. Maybe her babysitter had gone through what Nevra was going through. Maybe she expected her to use the privacy to break down and cry or throw a tantrum or let all hell loose. Nevra intended on refraining from each one of those things.

If she was going to cry it would be on her own terms. Her grief would be her choice. Everything from here on out would be controlled by her because fuck this feeling. A better person would have taken the opportunity to understand, this was how she’d made other people in her life feel. Before, she would have been that better person.

Now she wasn’t and didn’t care to be.

Berat Yalaz would be the last person who would make a choice for her and the last person to leave her behind.

The thought made her sigh.

#self para #the reason she's not at the awards #berat #ayaz #medea #I cried a bit

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slotmachines-fearofgod · 6 months

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first-ish chapter of the cody and ahsoka thing??

i'm still cleaning her up but people said they'd be interested so here's what i have so far:

“Absolutely not,” Cody crossed his arms and leveled a serious look at Obi-Wan, not in the least bit happy about this little situation.

“It’s only for a few months,” Obi-Wan placated, “And it’s commonplace among the Jedi. I will do the majority of work in this instance.”

“General,” Cody started, pinching his nose between his fingers, knowing Obi-Wan hated it when he pulled out the titles, “I cannot have a child fighting with and leading this battalion. I know other battalions have it down to a science, but we can’t exactly afford to make a learning curve in the middle of a civil war.”

“You would still be leading,” Obi-Wan assured him, leaning back against the holo-table in the conference room, “She’d be more akin to a captain than anything, and I already told Anakin yes.”

Cody withheld his glower only on account that this was his general he was talking to.

“Besides, it would be good for her to train with people she doesn’t know yet.”

“She’s known you her entire life,” Cody grumbled, “And we’re clones. Not like there’s a huge variation there.”

Obi-Wan gave him that disapproving look he always got whenever Cody made comments about the cloning process, but Cody couldn’t find it in himself to care at this moment. They may be unique in the Force, but they still fought the exact same as the 501st. Well, maybe a little differently considering some of the stories he heard coming from Torrent. But his point still stood.

“Ahsoka will need the practice either way,” Obi-Wan tried again, “I know she’s young, but even the youngest Jedi are formidable opponents.”

“I’m not doubting that,” Cody laughed sarcastically, “But skill means nothing if she doesn’t have the knowledge or experience to back it up.”

They’d been having this argument for a few days now. Obi-Wan had first broached the subject a week ago, but Cody had been conveniently called away and then completely forgotten about it until the temporary transfer confirmation appeared on his desk.

He’d quickly found Obi-Wan and voiced his grievances (and wasn’t it crazy that he could just…do that), but it seemed for every reason he could come up with that Padawan Tano shouldn’t join, Obi-Wan came up with five more for why she should.

The whole ‘why’ behind this situation was that the Torrent was being called in for a delicate extraction operation. Their prowess on Umbara apparently pleased some higher-ups, but the company had to go full black-out. The larger 501st battalion would still operate under Admiral Yularen, but General Skywalker wanted Tano to be able to continue her training in his extended absence. Obi-Wan was either volunteered or volunteered himself, the details on which were still foggy as the man in question had danced around the subject, and that was supposedly that.

“Captain Rex has spoken very highly of her improvement, and you yourself have witnessed her prowess on several missions thus far,” Obi-Wan reminded him in a light tone that meant he was getting frustrated.

“I’m not saying Commander Tano is incapable,” Cody said with a forced calmness, “I’m saying that, as incredible as the 501st is, not only will she be joining a battalion that heads the 7th Sky Corps, but she’ll be placed in a position that you and I both spent months having to be vetted for. She’d have to be perfect in every way-”

“She is still learning,” Obi-Wan reminded him, his expression hardening, “The Council expects failure from her and will not punish her if such a thing occurs.”

“And what about the lives that will be lost when that failure occurs?”

“If that failure occurs.”

“When.”

“Enough,” Obi-Wan said harshly, “I will not have you questioning my orders, especially when it has to do with the Jedi Order.”

Cody snapped his mouth shut and fixed his gaze over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, the rare reminder of exactly how little power Cody had in this instance warning him off of arguing more.

Obi-Wan paused, sorting through whatever he wanted to say. The tension between them was thick in a way it hadn’t been in a few months now. It was rare that they had real disagreements, but when it happened it always seemed to hover over their heads for days after.

“This is happening Cody,” he said eventually, “Asking you is a formality, a necessary one, yes, but still a formality. I have final say and the transfer forms have already all been filled out except for your signature.”

Cody stilled for a moment, but at the end of the day he was a professional. If Obi-Wan wanted to play it like this, he knew how to adapt.

“I’ll have the forms sent to you tonight,” Cody said blankly, ignoring the way Obi-Wan’s expression tightened at his sudden snap back to parade rest, “And I’ll make the necessary preparations.”

“I can do that,” Obi-Wan sighed, “She is effectively my padawan for the time being.”

“Yessir.”

Cody shoved his bucket back on and waited for Obi-Wan to dismiss him.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said gently but firmly, “It is my duty to help her. I understand your concerns, and I will tend to them as best I can, as I always do. But we must present a united front both to her and to others that I’m sure have similar worries.”

Cody’s eye twitched, “Am I dismissed? Sir?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes in frustration and furrowed his brow, “Yes. You are dismissed. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Cody left without another word.

—

“Are you sure it’ll be okay?” Ahsoka asked again, “I’ve heard stories about Commander Cody and he seems -”

“Ahsoka,” Rex said firmly, but not unkindly, “Cody may be a hardass, but he’s not without reason. As long as you stick to what you’ve been taught and follow the General’s lead, it’ll be fine.”

Ahsoka frowned slightly, tugging gently at her padawan beads. She was excited to spend some time with the 212th despite the stakes of the mission Torrent was going on. She and Anakin had argued several times over whether or not she was going, but the Council put an end to it themselves and ruled that she ought to stay behind.

The only problem was Commander Cody.

She’d gotten the sense that he disapproved of her the last few times the 212th and 501st worked together, but she couldn’t figure out why. He never stuck around to chat like Rex did and he was the constant picture of professionalism. They’d exchanged maybe five words when Ahsoka first landed on Christophsis, but that had made sense at the time.

Now though, she worried that maybe she hadn’t made a good impression and that was why he didn’t like her. Or maybe it was something she’d done that she didn’t even know about during their many brief interactions over the past year.

She’d heard stories from the men in Torrent when she asked around about how he operated, and it seemed a lot more strict than Rex and Anakin’s usual policies. Fives claimed that when he and Echo first started out Commander Cody used to visit and make them run laps until they almost passed out. Tup said that he heard from one of the 212th shinies that the Commander hated Jedi, and was only putting up with Obi-Wan because he had to. Jesse told her that he would drill new recruits for up to ten hours at a time, putting them through physical and mental hell for a week straight until he was satisfied with their performance.

Rex had just laughed.

Rex and Commander Cody had always been close, she knew that. The first time she’d heard any term of affection coming from the troopers was when Rex referred to him as “ori’vod” in greeting, but even the keldabe that followed had been far harsher than the ones Ahsoka was used to Rex sharing with his men. But it was still the reason she was talking to him now before her departure in the morning, trying to soothe her nerves one last time.

“Is there anything specific I can do?” Ahsoka asked, “Besides what you already said?”

Rex smiled at her obvious nervousness, “Trust your gut. Don’t overthink things. Cody is straightforward and direct, he doesn’t like people that skirt around issues or sweet talk their way into things.”

Ahsoka thought about that for a moment before thinking about Obi-Wan’s general demeanor. She wondered how that dynamic worked behind the scenes.

“He’ll probably try to put you in armor,” Rex mused, mostly to himself, but he still caught the face Ahsoka made and laughed, “Good luck trying to escape it.”

“It impedes my movement,” Ahsoka argued, “How am I supposed to move with all that weighing me down?”

“You work out with it until you can,” Rex shrugged, “And General Kenobi might be able to get you out of it, but then again, Cody’s got him in armor too.”

Ahsoka made a face at him before leaning back and crossing her arms, “What about Ghost Company?”

“What about them?”

“How should I try to fit in? Should I try to fit in?” Ahsoka looked down, her brow furrowed, “Or should I just leave them alone?”

“Teamwork is an essential part of any unit,” Rex reminded her gently, “And you’ll still be a commander when you go over there. You’ll be leading them when Cody can’t, and building that trust is important.”

“But how do I do that?” Ahsoka asked in frustration, finally meeting Rex’s eyes, “I don’t even really know how I did it here!”

Rex frowned slightly, standing from his position on the bed and walking over to the desk she was currently leaning against. He took a moment to study her, taking in her slightly hunched posture and frustrated snarl.

“‘Soka,” he put a warm hand on her shoulder, “You’ll be fine. I know Torrent is easy-going, but that doesn’t mean everyone else is impossible. There’s a reason Ghost and Torrent work so well and are paired up so frequently. They’ve been around you plenty, and I’m sure General Kenobi has briefed them and made sure they’re prepared.”

Ahsoka slumped, feeling suddenly drained. She hadn’t been this anxious over something since the trip down to Christophsis, and she’d been able to play that off easily. This was different. These people knew of her and would be looking to her as a leader, not just their general’s apprentice.

“Okay,” she said finally, giving Rex a small nod, “Thanks for talking with me.”

“Anytime Commander,” Rex gave her a small grin that she tentatively returned, “If you need anything, Kix will be staying behind and I’m sure he’d be happy to talk.”

Ahsoka gave him a hug, squeezing him just a little tighter than normal, “You be safe too, okay?”

“I always am,” Rex laughed, but she could feel the way the Force contracted around him in a show of nervous protection danger deflect. She was still clumsy with interpreting individual feelings and signatures, but this was one she’d felt many times before surrounding the men on board.

The truth was, she didn’t doubt her own skills or abilities. Anakin was a tough teacher, but she’d proven to him and the others that she can hold her own time and time again. She also knew that sometimes that didn’t translate and all people saw was a kid with a lightsaber.

“I’ll be with you when we drop you off,” Rex said after he pulled back, “I can introduce the two of you and help you get started with him.”

Ahsoka sighed in relief, a small amount of tension leaving her shoulders, “Thanks Rexter. Remind me to return the favor someday.”

Rex laughed lightly, “Not a problem, Commander. Now go get some shut eye, it’s well past curfew.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes as a slight smile crept across her face, “You’re starting to sound like Anakin.”

Rex cringed, “Please don’t say that.”

Ahsoka laughed as she moved toward the door, feeling marginally better than she had when she walked in seeking both advice and comfort, “I’ll see you in the morning, Captain.”

“See you tomorrow Commander.” Rex gave her one last reassuring look before the door closed. Ahsoka stood there for a few more moments, taking the time to collect herself. She’d do a more full meditation in the morning before her, Anakin, and Rex took a ship over to the 212th to drop her off, but her mind was still too restless for her to sleep.

When she felt steady enough she returned to her quarters, double checking to make sure everything she needed was packed. She’d be okay, even if the Commander didn’t like her. She didn’t need his approval in order to graduate, nor was it necessary for her rank in the army.

But he was Rex’s brother. And one of Master Obi-Wan’s closest friends. She didn’t need his approval but…he was family to the people she considered family. And that had to count for something.

—

The shuttle up to the Negotiator was a long one. Anakin kept a hand on her shoulder pretty much the whole time while Rex went over a report on his datapad. They hadn’t said much, but a thick tension had settled in the air between the three of them. Anakin was worried about Ahsoka going so far away from him and Rex’s mind was split between thoughts of her and thoughts of his men getting prepared for their mission.

Two and a half months with no contact. She wouldn’t know where they were or what they were doing. She wouldn’t be able to check in or chat with Anakin like she did whenever she had lessons to complete at the Temple. She didn’t like it.

Neither did they.

When their pilot announced the incoming landing, Anakin’s hand tightened slightly.

“Do you have everything you need?”

“All good,” Ahsoka said with a forced cheeriness, “And Master Obi-Wan said if I missed something they usually have base extras laying around.”

“Good,” Anakin said shortly, his tense expression unchanged, “And you know…you know everything’s going to be okay, right?”

Ahsoka fixed her gaze on the rapidly approaching ship, her hand coming up to squeeze Anakin’s in a silent show of support and understanding, “I know.”

Rex cast a quick glance over at the pair before passing off the datapad to Anakin. Ahsoka’s master took it without looking, clicking it off and tucking it away to analyze later. Rex stood on the other side of Ahsoka, fitting his helmet into place and standing like a soldier at her side.

She couldn’t help but smile as she thought about the picture the three of them made.

When the shuttle door opened and the ramp lowered, they were immediately thrown into the chaos that was the landing bay. The venator landing bays were never not busy, to be fair, and Master Obi-Wan was waiting for them with a small smile, arms folded into his robes.

Anakin led the way as they approached, bowing respectfully to Obi-Wan, before gesturing to Ahsoka to do the same. She almost immediately relaxed at the peace that always seemed to saturate Obi-Wan’s aura and smiled playfully up at the other man as she copied her master’s lead.

“Master Obi-Wan,” she greeted, “It’s good to see you again.”

“I could say the same,” Obi-Wan gave her a warm smile, “And Anakin, lovely to see you’re still as disheveled as ever.”

“Hey,” Anakin whined, “Why are you always so nice to her?”

“Well she is now my padawan,” Obi-Wan said with a twinkle in his eye, knowing he was riling Anakin up, “Though not even her skills could fix your lack of attention to schedules. You’re late.”

Anakin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but Ahsoka could feel the glimmer of a familial bond come to life between the two men, “And what about your commander? How come he gets a pass?”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan’s face fell slightly at the mention of Commander Cody, “He was here on time, but was called away just before you landed. He should be back soon, it was just an issue with crew clearances I believe.”

Anakin huffed, but let it go. Obi-Wan turned to Rex next and greeted him while Ahsoka looked around. The venator was exactly the same, just as the military pamphlets advertised, but the nose paint decorating various shuttles and fighters were all new to her. The bright yellows and oranges made the place feel strangely lighter than the usual dark blues she was accustomed to.

Ahsoka was just about to head for a LAAT with some interesting symbols she’d never seen before on it before Obi-Wan announced, “Here he is! Allow me to reintroduce Commander Cody, Commander, I believe you and Ahsoka have met before.”

Ahsoka turned to face the Commander, unsurprised to find him with his helmet still on, and gave him a welcoming smile, trying to copy the way Obi-Wan did it. He snapped into a salute once he came to rest at Obi-Wan’s side, but Ahsoka was more taken aback by his lack of presence in the Force than anything else.

“Commander Tano,” he spoke, his voice slightly less growly than Rex’s, “It’s good to have you aboard.”

“Commander Cody,” she said, “You can be at ease, we’re the same rank, after all.”

He fell into a practiced parade rest, the eerie stillness of his actions putting her slightly off, “General Skywalker, Captain Rex, good to see you -”

Rex moved forward, pulling Cody into a keldabe and mumbling something in Mando’a that she didn’t understand. Cody must have though, because he laughed politely and pulled back, grasping Rex’s forearm and clapping his other hand on his shoulder.

Obi-Wan watched them with an amused look on his face before turning back to the other two Jedi, “Do you feel prepared?”

She knew the question was for Anakin, but when Obi-Wan’s gaze fell on her she lifted her suitcase in response.

“We’re as ready as we can be,” Anakin answered honestly, “We shouldn’t see battle until a month after we start and we have plenty of time to ready supplies until then.”

Obi-Wan nodded, “And the men? Are they set?”

Anakin’s smile turned cocky at his master’s question, “They’re itching for a fight. I don’t think I could pull them away from this if I tried.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but they began to move out of the hangar as they talked about the blackout process and other mission specs Ahsoka wasn’t actually supposed to know about. Cody and Rex followed behind them in silence, listening intently to the two generals at the front.

Ahsoka took it as her cue to fall into step with her captain and commander, but hesitated as she tried to figure out what to say.

Rex must’ve sensed her discomfort because he took care of that, saying, “Ahsoka usually trains with the men when Skywalker can’t make it or he thinks she needs a switch up.”

“Good to know,” every word out of Cody was sharp and succinct, clipped in a way that reminded her of the way Master Windu got when he was frustrated or giving orders. In fact, he and Cody probably would’ve gotten along well.

“She’s an excellent defensive fighter,” Rex continued, undeterred by Cody’s behavior, “but needs to work more on her offensive tactics.”

“Jedi are supposed to be defensive,” Ahsoka cut in, “Anakin’s had me working on my blocks for a few months now.”

Rex sighed, but this was a familiar argument between the two of them. Rex thought it was necessary for living in a war for her to take a more offensive stance against her enemy, and Anakin didn’t exactly disagree. But Anakin’s job wasn’t to train her for war, it was to train her to keep the peace, and both Jedi agreed that teaching a more diplomatic form of lightsaber combat would benefit her in the long run.

“I’m sure General Kenobi would love to help you with either one,” Cody said neutrally, but the dismissal hidden in his words was clear. She tried not to wilt at that.

“Come now, Cody,” Obi-Wan said playfully, apparently listening far more intently than the trio had realized, “If you can spar against me and come out with only bruises to show, you may have much to teach Ahsoka.”

“You spar against Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked in surprise, turning over his shoulder to get another look at Cody, a new light of appreciation in his eyes.

“The general and I have worked on it a few times, yes,” Cody said plainly. Ahsoka didn’t like how little he emoted, so unlike Rex or any of the 501st. It felt so…droid-like. “But I haven’t beaten him yet.”

“He holds his own quite admirably,” Obi-Wan smirked and Ahsoka got the feeling there was some inside joke happening that the rest of them weren’t aware of, “Don’t sell yourself short Cody.”

If she had to guess, she’d say one of Cody’s eyes was twitching as he responded, “Of course, General.”

Obi-Wan threw his commander a smile and a wink before backing off, “Ahsoka will train with me for the time being until the men get a little more comfortable having a padawan on board, but thank you for letting us know about that Rex. Is there anything else we ought to know?”

“I’m working on my double saber form,” Ahsoka said before anyone else could dictate for her, “The shoto is still giving me some trouble.”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard unconsciously, “It’s been a while since I’ve revisited Jar’Kai, but I’m sure we can make it work.”

They’d just reached the exit for the hangar when Obi-Wan stopped and turned to face the group, “Anakin, Captain Rex, if you would follow me. Ahsoka, Cody can take you to the med bay to ensure your medical files are all in order and our CMO, Helix, can do the typical onboarding scans.”

“I can make my own way,” Ahsoka said quickly, glancing at Cody momentarily before fixing her attention on her grand-master, “I’m sure the Commander has a lot to do.”

It was then that Ahsoka felt the first flicker around Cody’s previously blank Force signature. It was too fast for her to read it, but she saw the way both of the other Jedi quickly glanced at him, concern in Obi-Wan’s eyes and curiosity in Anakin’s.

“If that’s what you wish,” Obi-Wan said slowly before tearing his gaze away from his commander, “But Cody really is quite available to show you around.”

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka assured him, not wanting to be a burden to someone who was already on the fence about her, “Most of the venators are the same, I don’t need him to show me around what’s essentially the same place I’ve been living for a year,” she joked. It seemed to fall flat though, and she couldn’t quite figure out why.

“Right,” Cody said after a moment of awkward silence, “In that case, I’ll be off. I think Waxer wanted to go over requisitions from the 104th one more time before we sent them out.”

“I’ll come find you in the med bay once we’re done here,” Obi-Wan told Ahsoka before turning to Cody, “And would you mind coming by my office this evening? We need to discuss a few logistical issues.”

Again, Ahsoka got the feeling that she was out of whatever loop Cody and Obi-Wan seemed to work within. Anakin gave his master a look as well, but Rex was glancing between Cody and Ahsoka with a wary look on his face.

Did she really mess it up already?

#commander cody #ahsoka tano #cody and ahsoka bonding #the clone wars #tcw #tcw fanfic #under the cut for convienence #and so i don't clog anyones timeline

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five-writes-fic · 1 year

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Psych & Leverage Crossover Headcanons

Shawn and Eliot are cousins (obviously), and for some reason Shawn has to help out the team (or something else to get them to introduce each other and interact). How I think it’d go:

Nate: Shawn thinks he’s a little too much like Henry. He can see in Nate’s stare that he’s analyzing him, trying to solve him like a puzzle. Nate sees some of himself in Shawn - the dislike of authority, the observational skills, tunnel vision on a con case. It’s clear that he was also trained from a young age. Nate’s curiosity is piqued. After the two have some downright awkward interactions (Nate trying to investigate and Shawn dodging to the best of his ability), Sophie suggests the two sit down and play chess to get them to lighten up. Friendly competition always forges a connection, right?

The game lasts several hours. No one wins because it ends when Eliot smacks the pieces off the board. Shawn offers to set it back up exactly how it was, but Eliot’s glare shuts him up. Sophie’s suggestion worked, though. Shawn will at some point mention his poker skills, and Nate, ever the competitive spirit, invites him to play a game. The team prevents this from happening at all costs.

Sophie: Having done some digging on some of Shawn’s stunts, she is convinced that he has the potential to be a good grifter. While he’s with the team, she tries her best to give him as many tips and tricks as possible. She has some second thoughts when hearing his attempts at various accents though. (And seeing him repeatedly fail to understand the word subtle.)

Shawn, while often joking around, and sometimes going directly against her advice (Subtle, Shawn! It’s like Parker all over again…), does pay attention to what she says. He has more fun with her when she takes him to a cafe. They sip their drinks and describe people in the cafe just by their tells and other observed traits. She quizzes him on how one could grift them. More fun than counting hats Shawn thinks.

Parker: She is told in advance that Shawn isn’t actually psychic. She’s intrigued over him having an eidetic memory. Mostly over the fact that he hasn’t gone into crime (“He could break into so many things!”). When Shawn learns of her skills, he tells her about Gus’ terrible safecracking skills and his magazine subscription. She cackles for a solid five minutes. Afterwards, she sits him down with 10 of the most popular safes and locks. She shows him how to crack each one - smug because she knows she only has to show him once.

Hardison: Shawn freaks him out. He just thinks there’s something off about him. To him, Shawn’s a weird combination of Nate’s observational and deductive skills and Eliot’s hyper-specific knowledge about government agencies.

(Hardison is briefing the team on their current big bad. Shawn interrupts “he’s a former CIA agent” The team looks at him. He shrugs.

“Why can both Spencers do that?” Parker asks.

“Dude it’s obvious from his…” “It’s a very distinctive…” the Spencers trail off, having spoken at the same time.

“That’s freaky, that ain’t natural” Hardison says in response.)

Shawn notices Hardison’s wariness, and naturally, decides to mess with him for a bit. Eliot supports this. This goes as well as expected.

Eliot: While he appears aloof, he’s glad to see Shawn after so many years. He was initially hesitant to introduce him to the team, but he doesn’t regret it. Perhaps it gives him a small feeling of relief, or peace, to show Shawn what he does and how he’s changed. How, like Shawn, he’s doing good things (through morally dubious means). He knows that Shawn’s tried to keep tabs on him, regardless of how well Hardison’s scrubbed him off the internet.

Shawn knows that Eliot is aware of him trying to find him. He hopes the message comes across. He’s seen enough crimes to understand that good people can get caught up in bad things. The two avoid getting sappy, but Eliot jokingly reminds Shawn that Shawn “still owes him one for saving his ass at the Mexican border”.

Eliot thinks Shawn would beat Nate in a game of poker. He refuses to elaborate.

#leverage #psych the show #leverage headcanon #psych headcanon #psych x leverage crossover #my post

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yourfifitherealone · 1 year

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I love you, EXACTLY the way you are <3 (Medic TF2 x reader) non-binary friendly

Medic's Pov

I noticed Y/N acting..off lately. They haven't been accepting physical affection or affection at all the same as they used to. Is it my fault? I don't really know, but what I do know, is that I WILL find out why. I was intensely determined to figure out the cause was.

"Greetings and salutations, has anyone seen my Darling anywhere?" I asked the base. "Saw the lass go up to the rooftop I think " Damon said which was unusually helpful from him "sincerest thanks" I finished while walking up the staircase.

"My darling, darling, where are you?" I called, finally at the roof. Then I heard crying "Y/N?" Then I saw them balled up shaking to the beat of sobs. "What happened?" I asked rushing over beside them. "I-I-" then they continued to cry in my arms. My blood starting to boil, I wanted to hurt whoever did this but I couldn't figure it out with Darling sobs blocking their sweet song that most will call a voice. After some uncontrollable sobs later which I'm usually uncomfortable and awkward when people are crying but...with them it's different, everything was different with them, everything IS different with them, and I plan to keep it that way forever.

My darling soon confessed a nosy someone told her that I wasn't good for her; in other words that I, me, her lover was

Out of her league....

"Now let's think rationally, med school helped us with that one huh?" I whispered I'm starting to feel that voice again, trying to convince me. "Hold on loebe I need to think" I say letting them slip from my hands. "Think about what?" My Dove sweetly asked. "Hold on"

'Screw it. SCREW THEM! THOSE SAD EXCUSES FOR A "DOCTOR". I HAVE LEARNED NOTHING I COULDN'T FIGURE OUT ON. MY. OWN!

With my great doctoring skills, I'll make sure the sorry, sorry person will be out of everyone and EVERYTHINGS league...'

*sigh*

"Okay liebe my dear, I'll handle it. I'll make sure they will never again..

-have the mere confidence to

-ever confront you again...,

-I promise.."

"Your side is coming out again, Listen to yourself" I reasoned with him

'I'm done having conversations in my own head about what's good for my darling. We SHARE her. If and when something hurts her it's MY job to make it better so shut. up.'

I am THE cruel, evil, twisted, demented, unreasonable,

Medic...

"I heard you were talking to my darling, Told her something unbelievably stupid, sounds about right?" "Look I didn't mean it like that she's too sensitive" he said while rolling his eyes. My job is to protect Y/N, my job is to know that he told her that because he had feelings for me and wanted to sabotage our love for each other, my job is to take care of him and take care of my darling in a complete different way. My job is to kill what other me can't, who Y/N can't. My job is to kill

I plunged the knife in his stomach causing the waste of space to collapse. 'Ill do more with him later ' I thought to myself. He kept on groaning and cursing wishing some sort of horrible unspeakable pain onto me.

Little does he know..

He'll be taking that same fate he speaks.

I get him into my basement then run back to the roof to my lover.

She's gone

"Y/N!?"

I rush to their room and desperately knock for them to open up their day. I feel desperate to see them even though I couldn't figure out why, I didn't care. Just wanted to see them

"Ye-?oh hi. Why did you leave me alone up there like that? It- nevermind"

"Apologizes Y/N. I'm coming back slowly I'm going a little off the rails"

"You were supposed to comfort me what the hell?"

"Again I'm sorry I wasn't there I wasn't feeling like myself but I did take care of it. If it'll make you feel better, we can hug all day if you'd like" I offered with a smile, returning to my normal self. "Really?! Yes, yes,yes one hundred percent yes!" We cuddled and played their favorite YouTube videos which I wouldn't like to admit, I wasn't very interested in. "Babe I know you don't like watching them I can tell, I'll turn it off when it's done" "no, no that won't be necessary there are some...funny parts......sorta" "SEE I knew it! You don't like it" they said sitting up from laying on my chest. "I.. uh okay well maybe I don't but you do so it doesn't matter. I have to catch up with something later anyway" after that their jaw drops and they stare. "What?" "You said you'd cuddle with me allllll day" "Oh I did? I forgot I said that last part...heh" I nervously laughed but their face was unamused. "Fine!"

I watched YouTube until they fell asleep and started to drool.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N"

"Now it's time to punish the waste of space, trash."

I went down to the basement and saw the bloody wreck in the corner he leaned closer to the corner frantically pleading me to not kill him. "I will kill you, unfortunately for you but first I'll need to make you REGRET ever speaking to her..."

The next day, Darling was fine and happy like usual. No weird sleeping patterns of going to bed at 8, avoiding me and others ect she's just... herself. I'm glad and if anyone tries to mess with her, with our happiness,

I'll deal with it...

#medic tf2 x reader #tf2 medic x reader #medic x reader #tf2 medic #Medic fluff #Medic tf2 fluff #Insecurities #Insecurities comfort #Insecure comfort #X insecure reader #insecure reader #non-binary #nonbinary reader #nonbinary y/n #nonbinary x tf2 #non-binary x Medic TF2 #non-binary x Medic

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wanderinginksplot · 2 years

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Refuge Chapter Two

Second chapter of Refuge, an eventual Delta Squad/fem!reader fic. (Very eventual. You know how I love my slow burns!)

This is a heavy chapter! It puts a lot of plot in motion, but please pay attention to the warnings! I can summarize the plot in a PM or ask if you're uncomfortable reading this chapter but want to follow the story!

(For those wondering why they're tagged, this is the 'first chapter of a new fic' option on my taglist)

Word Count: 6,600

Warnings: mentions of retaliation, survival situations, destruction of home and property, accusations of treason, attempted murder, near drowning, vomit, enemy attack.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

Traitor

“Boss!” Scorch called, picking up speed as he approached the trooper in his orange-accented armor. “Sarge, wait!”

Boss sighed and impatiently held his position until Scorch reached him. “What is it, Scorch? I can’t be late for this meeting.”

“Boss, Voubos fell to the Separatists,” Scorch told him.

His powerful mind took a half-moment to process that information, and another half to think through how it impacted the war effort as well as the Voubosian civilians. The answers were, respectively: ‘not at all’ and ‘poorly’.

Still, he did his best to sound both regretful and stoic when he replied, “Sounds like they made their choice.”

“Yeah, but how do you think she’s doing with it?”

He hadn’t said exactly who ‘she’ was, but Boss knew exactly who the demolitions expert was talking about. The civvie who had offered them a place to stay for the night, a warm meal, and a new skill. She had given Delta Squad a brief glance into the lives of those who were only brushed by the galaxy-wide war instead of embroiled in it. It had been a surprisingly refreshing bit of perspective.

Despite his own misgivings about the situation, Boss shook his head. “Not well, I’d guess. Nothing we can do, though.”

“You don’t even want to try?” Scorch asked, sounding disappointed.

It wasn’t often Boss heard his men sound disappointed in him, and he didn’t care for the role reversal. “Fine. Try to contact her. See what you can find out.”

“We already tried,” Scorch reported. “No response.”

“Who did you say gave you permission to use the long-distance comms?” Boss asked. Voubos was now considered Separatist space. Long-distance comms were carefully guarded and calls to Seppie space were only to be made with great care in dire situations.

“You.” Scorch didn’t sound at all concerned by this retroactive permission. “What are we gonna do about it, Boss?”

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” It wasn’t something Boss enjoyed saying, but the civilian had chosen to stay on Voubos. They had offered to let her leave with them, but she had refused. Nothing wrong with that, but it didn’t mean the Republic owed her a chance to rethink her decision.

“Are you serious?” Scorch demanded. “She could be injured or in danger. The planet fell to the Seppies. If they know she helped us, they’ll take it out on her. And, knowing them, they’ll do it as publicly as possible to send a message.”

“I still haven’t heard a good enough reason to go back,” Boss shut down. “And I’m late for a meeting.”

“This has to be bothering you at least as much as it’s bothering us,” Scorch said, and it made Boss’s back teeth hurt that he was right. “Even Sev feels bad and you know he doesn’t feel.”

“I have to go,” Boss said, walking away before Scorch could fight to continue the conversation.

But despite it all, he found his mind wandering to the civvie they had left behind on Voubos. There was really nothing Delta Squad could do, not unless the Republic decided that Voubos was somehow strategically important.

"Further details will be given as we learn more," General Windu concluded, bringing the meeting to a close. "Keep an eye on your datapads for that communication."

Boss saluted, silently thanking Jango's genes for allowing him to listen even while he was so preoccupied with other matters. It didn't make much of a difference anyway - Delta was only being included in this scenario in the unlikely event that an ARC-trained group of CTs was unable to handle a small incursion.

"Sergeant Boss, a word?"

Boss stayed behind as the other officers left, waiting patiently for the room to empty so Windu could speak in peace.

When he did, however, the general put Boss on-edge. "Your focus was lacking today, Sergeant. Something on your mind?"

"No, sir," Boss said, the denial reflexive and utterly false.

From the skeptical look Windu shot his way, both of them knew it. "Do you want to try that again?"

Boss sighed. "The men are upset, sir. When we were gathering information on Voubos, we were housed by a civilian."

"I'm aware of that," Windu told him with the shadow of a smile. "I do read your reports, you know."

"Then you already know that Voubos fell to the Separatists recently."

"Very recently," Windu said with a nod. "I take it your squad is worried about how the fall will impact her."

"Yes, sir," Boss agreed. "They've tried to contact her, but nothing comes back. Not a good sign."

"I understand," General Windu sympathized. "It can be difficult to leave people behind, especially when they helped you. Try to find a way to motivate your squad with this, Sergeant. It will give them something better to focus on."

"With respect, sir, I think the only thing that could motivate them is a transport and the chance to pull an extraction maneuver."

Windu shook his head immediately and Boss felt his hopes - low as they had been - fall. "I'm afraid that isn't possible. Unless you can think of a reason that she may be valuable to the Republic?"

"No, sir," Boss admitted, feeling the sharp sting of defeat."Nothing other than that she helped us out of kindness and we're repaying her by leaving her to the Seppies."

Boss knew that the words were too fervent, his tone too intense for the situation, but he couldn't hold them back. General Windu studied him, dark eyes taking in every bit of his appearance and - Boss was somehow sure - studying his mind and motivations just as closely.

"I cannot allow you to risk your squad for a civilian on a Separatist-controlled planet that holds no benefit for the Republic," Windu said sternly.

Boss bowed his head, ready to acquiesce and go break the news to his squad, but the general wasn't finished.

"There's no guarantee that we'll need you and your squad for this next mission, but we do need you in place by the start of it, four days from now," Windu explained, passing Boss a piece of flimsi with a code scrawled on it. "Here is the code for the ship you'll be using. If memory serves, it has some mechanical issues, including a broken location tracking system."

Boss quickly met the General's eyes as he nodded in confirmation. "With that in mind, you would be better served to leave sooner and wait for further orders on one of the nearby planets. I believe the closest ones to our target are Renatasia, Thon Boka, and Voubos."

"...sir?" Boss asked, glancing from the code in his hands to General Windu.

"Sergeant," Windu said simply, letting Boss's rank serve as a question, an answer, and a farewell. With that single, hardworking word, he simply left.

Boss stayed for a minute, thinking over everything he had learned from that exchange. He could return to Delta Squad, lay it all out, and let them help him make a decision, but that would put them partially at fault if something went wrong. Windu had given him leeway, but the civvies had an old saying about ‘enough rope to hang yourself with’...

No. Responsibility couldn’t fall on anyone but Boss. That’s what it meant to be a leader.

When he finally made it out into the hallway, Fixer, Sev, and Scorch were waiting for him. Boss wasn’t really surprised. They had been together their entire lives and they knew each other better than they knew themselves.

“Men,” he said with a nod. “We have our orders.”

And he started down the hallway toward the hangar. The ship would have everything they needed on it. There wasn’t any use in delaying their departure. Especially now that they were trying to fit two missions into one.

Sev fell into step beside Boss. With a conversational tone in his gruff voice, he said, “I hear we’re leaving people behind now.”

“She’s not one of our people,” Boss answered truthfully.

“That doesn’t mean she didn’t risk everything to help us,” Fixer argued.

“Let’s get to the ship,” Boss ordered. “We only have four days before we need to be in place.”

When they reached their ship, the men watched closely as Boss input the proper coordinates. “Are we going to-?”

“The next mission will take place on Zebitrope - a tibanna-rich planet in the Outer Rim,” Boss announced, giving all of them a firm look. “We’ll be traveling a known route through established trade routes, so it should be an easy flight.”

“That’ll only take about a day and a half,” Fixer told him, running through the calculations in his head.

“Yes, it will,” Boss agreed, voice bland.

“Boss, I finished the pre-flight checks,” Scorch announced. “It looks like this ship took some serious damage to the tracking system. Want me to fix it?”

“No.” Boss ignored all of them, navigating the ship out of Coruscant as Delta Squad glanced at each other with delight. After they had cleared the planet’s atmosphere, the men were all still gathered nearby. Boss quickly brought them back down to reality.

“Here’s what we’re looking at, gentlemen,” he said, bracing momentarily when they entered hyperspace. ”This is an unauthorized mission. We need to be in place outside of Zebitrope in four days. The journey there will take approximately a day and a half, with another few hours of flight time to Voubos. That leaves us two days to infiltrate the planet and try to find out what happened. We all know there’s a chance we’ll find her dead.”

There was a thick silence in the cabin. Boss gave them all a look. “Yes, she’s resourceful, but we know how well civvies usually do against the Separatists. It’s possible we’ll find something we don’t want to find.”

“It’s better to know,” Sev insisted.

“But we also need to prepare for the other side of things,” Fixer pointed out. “If she’s alive, will we have time for an extraction?”

“Depends on where they have her,” Scorch told him before Boss could say the same. “If she’s imprisoned somewhere high-security, is there a chance we could steal some more time after the Zebitrope mission to circle back and do it right?”

“No,” Boss told him. “We only have these few days to work with. Even worse, we can’t jeopardize the Zebitrope mission. If it comes down to hard contact, we have to pull away.”

“So the odds are against us,” Sev summarized. When Boss nodded, the grin that spread across his scarred face was chilling. “Good thing we’ve never paid much attention to the odds.”

---

You blew out a breath, glancing around before you made even a single move. Bathing was dangerous, the most vulnerable you could be here. It had to be done carefully, quickly, or you could end up worse off than you ever had been.

You stripped off your clothes as rapidly as you could, setting them aside before stepping gently into the small pond. It was cold. Thankfully, it wasn’t frozen or you would have been out of luck, but it was certainly brisk enough that jumping in would have been easier. You couldn’t risk the noise that a splash would make, though, so you gritted your teeth and fought against making any sounds of complaint.

As you scrubbed your skin and hair, all of the mud and leaves that had been caked on your body floated away. It was a pity that you would have to start from scratch, but you needed to bathe. The natural oils on your skin and hair had started to build under the camouflage and had been warning animals about your presence.

When you were finished, you shook your arms and legs to remove as much water as you could, then did what you could with your hair. With that done, you put your clothes back on - carefully neutral browns and tans that fit tightly enough not to drag on the ground.

You knelt by the pond, scooping up a thick handful of mud and smoothing it over your skin. It felt counterintuitive given what you had just done to get clean, but when you were covered in mud again, you retreated into the woodline and dropped to the ground. A few rolls in the narrow space let you pick up leaf pieces, dirt clods, and even a few small sticks. You draped a large piece of moss you had found over one shoulder to disrupt your silhouette and you were as ready as you were going to be.

It hadn’t been an easy week. Despite your hopes and expectations for your planet, Voubos had fallen to the Separatists. Well, you weren’t sure whether ‘fallen’ was the right word or not. For all you knew, the politicians could have given the planet over to the CIS.

Either way, the other citizens of Toporik hadn’t hesitated to point out the fact that you had harbored a group of Republic soldiers shortly before the planet lost its neutrality.

The droids had come knocking at your door, a round-voiced Neimoidian male declaring that you were to be taken into Separatist custody for treason. The fact that the planet had still been neutral at the time of your ‘treason’ didn’t seem to bother them.

They had captured you easily. Though daring escape plans danced through your head, there were no opportunities. Besides, you had no combat skills and winter was approaching quickly. You would be lucky to last a week out on your own, especially considering the natural predators on Voubos.

All of that logic disappeared the moment your camp was attacked that night as you were marching back to wherever the Separatists had made their base.

The low screams of hunting animals paired horribly with their mirrored eyes flashing back light from the campfire. They went almost entirely for the droids. Clearly, no predator would get nourishment from them, but the metal soldiers kept making noise and attracting more and more attention. The Neimoidian had disappeared into a tank and kept the hatch closed as the animals pawed at it. You could hear him shouting even through the tank’s metal hull.

You had disappeared in the chaos.

Well, ‘disappeared’ might be giving yourself too much credit. You panic-ran into the woods, luckily running in a direction where there was nothing but trees. You survived the night in your thin clothes and tried to go back to your home the moment the sun rose. If nothing else, you reasoned, you could salvage some goods from it.

But when you got close, you smelled smoke and knew that wasn’t going to happen. And so, hidden in the forest, you saw your house engulfed in flames while your neighbors stood around chatting about what they had managed to take before the droids set it on fire.

As you left, you could still see them holding your favorite blankets and the vegetables you had carefully preserved for the winter. You retreated into the forest with nothing.

Fortunately, you had remembered reading about natural camouflage in one of your books. With a little bit of tweaking, you had figured out a system. During the day, you hunted for whatever food you could find. You tried to keep to berries, roots, and vegetables when you could. Killing animals was a sure way to draw predators, and you couldn’t risk building a fire to cook meat every day. When the sun started to set, you climbed the tallest tree you could find and lashed yourself to its trunk so you could sleep with a lessened fear of being attacked.

It was difficult to track time when it seemed to speed past and drag by in turns, but you believed it had been almost ten days since you had escaped the droids.

With any luck, the Separatists would think you had been killed in the attack on the camp, but there was every chance they were still looking for you. Still, you knew your time on Voubos was drawing to a close. You wouldn’t be able to survive a Voubosian winter, not without thicker clothes, a permanent shelter, and a sustainable food source. Since you didn’t have any money, those seemed unlikely.

You had never been lost in Voubos’s forests and you weren’t now. You had stayed around Toporik for the first few days, foraging the best places for food, but that had changed without you realizing it. Now, you were working your way closer to Beryod, the capital and largest city of Voubos. You also had a gut feeling that this would be where the Separatists would have set up camp. But, as you had noted, your time on Voubos would end soon. Whether it would end with you stealing a transport or being caught and executed by the Separatists, you didn’t really know.

And, in your moments of clarity, you weren’t sure that you cared.

You were alone in the galaxy. Even if you survived this situation, you would be forced from your home planet, left adrift in an unfamiliar galaxy. You didn’t know anyone who didn’t live on Voubos… An image of four highly trained men wearing new scarves under their armor flashed through your mind, but you pushed it away.

You didn’t really know anyone outside of Voubos.

Your progress to Beryod, the capital city of Voubos, was slow but steady.

When you had finally run short on gathered food, you took half a day to regroup. Your gut told you that the river you were camped beside would help you. Sure enough, you had managed to find a torn net tangled in the reeds beside a river.

It had taken some time to free the net and longer to patch it with the limited materials you could find in the forest, but with some time and a handful of thin roots, you had salvaged the net. With some work, you had caught a few fish and set about cooking them.

The risks of lighting a fire were the same as they had always been. There was a chance you could start a wildfire, since this autumn had been strangely dry. There was also a chance you could attract attention from curious residents of the area or any droids that had heat-tracking equipment. Still, they were risks you had to accept. You didn’t have the time or means to dry the fish, but a solid meal would help you stretch your meager rations.

You soaked a few segments of branches from fallen trees, arranging them in a circle under the cover of the trees, sweeping away as much debris as possible before using that fluff to serve as kindling. Fortunately, you knew how to start a fire with very little fuss. Even after the fire had started to burn in earnest, the wet wood seemed to be a successful barrier between the fire and the forest.

As you carefully turned the fish - rudimentarily cleaned and skewered on sticks - you tried to plot out the rest of your journey. You were no more than a day’s travel from Beryod now, even taking your lessened speed into account. When you reached the capital city, you would take some time to survey it before you made your move. If you managed to steal a ship, you were familiar only with inner-atmosphere transports and had to hope you would be able to puzzle out the differences quickly enough to escape. Even then, droid armies probably wouldn’t have rations stocked on their ships…

You turned the fish, idly trying to plot out whether you could manage to survive a short trip to a nearby neutral planet on your rations or if you would have to spend even more time foraging for additional food.

There was something in the woods behind you.

With a quick motion, you turned and stared in the direction that was sending your instincts jangling. “Who’s there?” you asked. If it was a person, they would answer, and if it was an animal, maybe it would be frightened away by the sound of your voice.

A man stepped out from behind a pile of underbrush. His hands were raised in a non-threatening pose, but your instincts continued to jangle. You knew him, which didn’t put you any more at ease.

“Olavi,” you greeted warily.

“You’re wandering far from Toporik,” he said by way of greeting, easing closer to the fire… and, by extension, you.

“Yes,” you answered shortly. Maybe Olavi hadn’t heard what had happened since he lived on the outskirts of Toporik on the opposite side from your home, but you doubted it. The fact that you were covered in mud and bits of leaves was probably a hint that something was wrong anyway. But since he kept getting closer, you decided to try to throw him off. “Come sit by the fire, Olavi. Warm yourself, have some fish.”

Olavi froze in place, watching you with confusion, but slowly nodded. “Thank you.”

He eased down to the ground, not quite on the opposite side of the fire, but far enough away that you didn’t fear that he would attack you immediately. You handed him one of the skewered fish and took another for yourself. Your gut told you he meant you harm, but you reasoned that you couldn’t do anything without eating first. It had been almost a full day since you had eaten, and that meal had been less than satisfying.

You and Olavi ate in silence - you much more quickly than him. It helped that you had given him the most recently cooked fish, so he was still picking delicately at the steaming flesh while you polished off two cooled ones in rapid succession.

And now, the test of his intentions: You stood, dusting yourself off carefully. The motion was ridiculous considering your clothing, skin, and hair was still caked with mud, but you did your best. “Sorry to run off, Olavi, but I’m on a tight schedule. Help yourself to the rest of the fish.”

Olavi straightened as well, abandoning his fish. His hand dipped behind his hips and you tensed, knowing what you would see before he revealed the glinting knife.

“The droids are offering a reward for you,” he told you, voice low. “I need the money. I’m taking you to Beryod.”

“I’m already going to Beryod, Olavi,” you said soothingly. “You’re more than welcome to come with me.”

He shook his head. “We’re going on the main roads. I won’t let you run.”

You changed tactics. “They plan to imprison me. You would subject me to that?”

“Imprison you?” Your heart sank at his scoff. “They plan to execute you as a traitor. From what I hear, you deserve it.”

“I deserve execution? For what?”

Olavi scowled at you. “You protected soldiers of the Republic. They would have died in the forests if you hadn’t brought them into your home.”

“Ignoring, of course, that Voubos was neutral at the time,” you argued. “I won’t go with you, Olavi.”

He shrugged, stepping toward you as he brandished the knife. “The reward is almost as high if I only bring your body to Beryod. The droids appreciate loyalty.”

You stared at him blankly, unable to process the idea that he hated you so deeply, and was determined to see you dead by the end of this. No, it was worse than that - Olavi didn’t hate you. None of his actions were rooted in dislike for you. He was just a man looking for a reward. That somehow managed to be more insulting, but it didn’t really matter.

You would be dead either way.

In a beat, you had plucked a stick from the fire and tossed it into Olavi’s face. Sparks exploded at the impact and he stumbled back, swiping at his face. You didn’t wait for him to recover, running instinctively back to the river where you could hide in the tall, thick reeds that grew along the bank. Your mud-covered clothing would help you blend in, especially with the head start you had gotten. With any luck, he would think you had dove into the river and would either follow you downstream or give up.

You were seconds away from sprinting into the reeds when something heavy hit you around the waist. You stumbled forward, landing heavily on your hands and knees.

You had enough presence of him to throw yourself to the side, hard, and felt Olavi’s knife skitter across your back. It definitely caught your clothing, but the adrenaline roaring through your system was too much for you to guess whether he had sliced through your skin as well.

You kicked and thrashed wildly, hearing the heavy thump of his knife sailing out of his hand. Like a trained massiff, you tracked the sound and launched yourself at the place where you knew you would find the knife.

Success!

With Olavi’s knife clutched in your fist, you pushed yourself to your feet and staggered away from him, barely managing to dodge when he tried to tackle you again. To get away from him, you were forced into the river’s shallows, struggling to keep your balance with the silt of the river washing away under the pressure of your feet.

Olavi followed you in, the fool, and you tried to back away from him. You nearly stumbled when your calf caught something, but you had just enough time to reach down and snatch up another discarded net. This one was in far better shape than the one you had used, most likely from a fisherman upstream who had cursed the loss of such a fine piece of equipment.

You had half a moment to process that before Olavi was on you again. You tossed the net at him, twisting your wrist to help the net spread out over him. Olavi’s arms had spread, but a combination of the reeds and his own thrashing served to hold the net in place around him.

“Just stop, Olavi!” you cried. “We can both walk away from this!”

Olavi snarled and pushed toward you again. He struggled for the knife, which you were holding with every bit of strength you could muster even as the river bottom was growing deeper and more slippery every moment. He grabbed at the knife with his hands still entangled in the net, which only served to make you lose the knife at the same time as he lost his balance.

It felt like you had an eternity to stare at him, to watch as his feet went out from under him. Olavi’s eyes went wide as he fell, grabbing at anything he could on the way down.

Unfortunately, the only thing his searching hands found was you.

With the edges of your mud-soaked clothing caught fast in his grip, you lost your careful footing and fell forward into the river. The current caught you like it had been waiting its entire existence for that moment.

You had spent summers swimming in the rivers and lakes of Voubos. There was little else for entertainment on the planet, and the icy mountain runoff had been a refreshing way to cool off on the warmest days. Swimming was a love of yours, and you considered yourself proficient, if not amazing.

In the current of the river, none of that mattered.

You were surrounded by water, tumbling over and over until you didn't know which way the surface was. Stars, you were starting to wonder if there was a surface. You had always been taught to follow the direction of an air bubble if you got disoriented, but the current of the river was strong enough that you couldn't find the trail of a single bubble to follow in the frothing mass.

You felt the autumn air on your face, the chill air warm in comparison to the frigid water, and gasped in a breath. Before you had finished filling your lungs, the river whipped you over once more and you coughed and sputtered trying to expel the water from your mouth. Then you lost the surface again.

You were bobbing down the river, thoroughly caught in the current now and unable to reach the bottom at all. You were pushed deeper and pulled shallower every moment, the lack of pattern depriving you of the chance to plan a way out of your situation.

Your lungs began to ache, then burn, then they resorted to tricks. They started trying to convince your mind that you would be just fine if you opened your mouth and took a deep breath. You knew that you would be breathing water, but that knowledge started to feel theoretical at best.

When it seemed unavoidable, your mouth opened, but you exhaled the carbon dioxide in your lungs with a huff. Something had caught you, hitting your abdomen hard enough to force air from you.

Out of pure instinct, you scrabbled for what had hit you and clung with all of your might. It felt like a partially-submerged tree, so you might still have a chance to survive this. Even better, the trunk, oddly slender, was almost perfectly smooth. It would be hard to hold onto, but it must have been in the river for a while. It wasn't going to wash away with your additional pull. You grabbed it, fighting to keep your grip strong.

Then the tree twisted sickeningly in the water and you lost your grip… but the tree reached out and grabbed you. You released it again from the shock, but you were lifted from the water anyway.

You blinked up at the tree, coughing and spitting river water. "...Boss?!"

The commando was hanging from a low-hanging tree trunk that jutted out over the river. One of his arms was wrapped around the trunk, along with one leg. His free hand was wrapped around your arm while his leg dangled into the river. That had been what you hit and grabbed so firmly.

"I need you to climb up," Boss called, voice raised to be heard over the rushing furor of the nearby rapids.

You didn't bother answering him directly, letting your slow movements up his arm speak for you.

The process got significantly faster when Sev appeared on the trunk as well, reaching down to pull you up between them.

"Be careful," he warned, his rough voice only audible because of how close he was. "If you fall back in, we won't have the space to pull another rescue."

You glanced backward, looking past Boss at the river that you had just left. Sure enough, just past your position was a collection of rocks, sending the strong current surging every which direction. Rapids, rough ones at that. You wondered distantly if that was where Olavi had ended up and shuddered, but Boss’s hand against your shoulder brought you back to the moment.

“Can you do this or do you need one of us to help?”

It was a steady, non-accusatory question. If you needed help, Boss would find a way to help you. That was enough to make you shake your head. “I think I’ll be okay.”

His affirmative hum sounded skeptical, but you managed to climb across the narrow tree trunk until you could slide down the curved trunk to land on the rocky mud of the riverbank. You had lost your shoes in the river, Fixer caught your arm as you slid, helping to soften your landing.

“Boss, I’m tracking convergence on our position,” Scorch reported, his visor moving back and forth almost imperceptibly as if the helmet were helping him see things beyond natural sight.

“Hostiles?” Boss checked.

“Safe bet, there,” Sev told him with a scoff.

“We need to make a quick exit, then.” Boss glanced at you. “The ship is about two klicks away. If you can’t keep up, tell us and we’ll figure something out.”

You nodded and they took off. Scorch took the lead, clearly still tracking whatever was coming in your direction. Sev followed behind him, a blaster cradled steadily in his hands as he ran. You and Boss were next. You knew any of the commandos could outpace you in a heartbeat, but Boss matched his speed to yours, calling out adjustments to the two in the lead as necessary. Fixer stayed at the tail end of the group, clearly also watching for threats, if you were to judge based on how he would occasionally freeze, swivel around with his blaster aimed at the treeline, then catch up with the group when he found nothing.

“Hold- on-” you panted, hoping you were almost to their ship. “I need- I have to stop…”

“We need to keep moving,” Fixer reminded you sternly, but you had already stopped and braced your hands against your knees.

The moment you put all the sloshing water and bits of fish into motion, your body had started to protest. It was fitting, then, that your body would rebel entirely when you stopped.

No sooner had you braced your hands and lowered your head than you started to heave. You tried not to look too closely at what came out, but you caught enough to know that the fish you had eaten was gone now, and that the water from the river had been muddier than you had anticipated. Or maybe that was just what happened when it was shaken around in your stomach.

Either way, you felt a great deal better when you had finished. You straightened up, spitting thickly onto the ground. Wordlessly, Scorch handed you his canteen. You glanced up to find that the commandos had fallen into defensive positions around you in your moment of weakness. You were oddly touched by the gesture, and made sure not to touch your lips to the neck of Scorch’s canteen while you rinsed your mouth.

“Let’s go,” you croaked after passing the half-empty canteen back to Scorch.

They took you at your word, matching the speed you had been running before your stop. Your lungs were screaming by the time you reached an edge of the forest and Fixer told you, "Our ship is behind that group of boulders. Almost there."

You eyed the distance skeptically. It wasn't far, especially given how far you had already come, but it meant you would be crossing over a clearing. You would be running unprotected by the trees that had shielded you up to this point.

"We're gonna have company soon," Scorch announced. Your heart sank, but he didn't seem concerned. None of them did.

"Good," Boss said, sounding satisfied with the knowledge. "You just volunteered to help me plan the welcome party while the others head for the ship."

"I do love a good surprise," Scorch agreed, and it sounded like there was a grin hidden beneath his helmet.

You, Fixer, and Sev were only about halfway across the distance when that company appeared - a group of six droids on speeders.

"Fixer, how fast do you think you can get us in the air?" Sev asked as casually as if you weren't running full-speed away from the sound of blaster fire.

"Under a minute from the time my shebs hit the pilot's seat," he answered.

Sev nodded. "Go. I'll get her there by the time you're ready."

Fixer took off and you stared. How could someone wearing that much armor and gear run so quickly?

More blaster fire echoed from behind you. "Don't they need our help?" you asked Sev.

"The best way we can help them is to get the ship ready," Sev told you. "Can you run any faster than this?"

Though there was nothing pointed in his question, you bristled. "No, I can't."

"Hang on, then," he warned, hosting you up and into his arms before you could even begin to brace for the movement.

You were held close to his chest. It wasn't comfortable being pressed against the white armor, but it stopped you from bouncing around and hitting against the hard material as he ran, so you were grateful. One of Sev's hands around your back held you in place while the one hooked under your knees still held his blaster.

You reached the ship in a thankfully short time and Sev set you on your feet before joining Fixer in the cockpit. In moments, the ship had lifted into the air, the take-off so rapid that you stumbled. The whole thing rotated and you heard the sound of a blaster cannon firing, then the ship lowered once more. The door to the small cargo bay behind you opened, allowing Boss and Scorch to step inside.

"Just had to take the last one from me, huh, Sev?" Scorch asked, pulling off his helmet with an irritated huff.

"It looked like it might have finished you off," Sev called back from the cockpit and Scorch swaggered in his direction, calling threats that sounded improbable.

Boss took his helmet off, too, but much more sedately. When you glanced over, he was watching you. "I don't want to leave you here. Voubos isn't safe anymore, and I think you know that. But I don't like the idea of forcing you out of here."

"Does she still want to stay?" Fixer asked loudly, clearly listening from the cockpit.

"There's no way," Sev denied.

"They burned your house down," Boss told you, looking serious.

You sighed. "Yeah, I saw that."

"She does!" Scorch said disbelievingly, popping his head back out of the doorway to the cockpit. "What are you gonna do, rebuild so they can burn it down again? Maybe they'll even make sure you're inside this time!"

"Scorch," Boss reprimanded. "If she wants to stay, she wants to stay."

"I don't want that," you finally interrupted. Boss and Scorch stared at you while utter silence emanated from the cockpit. "They burned down my house and tried to charge me for treason. I would have been executed. I don't know where I'm going to go, but I don't want to stay here."

"Fixer?" Boss called.

"Already done, Sergeant," Fixer replied. The cargo bay door closed and the ship began to rise through the atmosphere of Voubos.

Despite your unease, you stepped forward until you could see into the cockpit and through the transparisteel at the front of the ship. Voubos disappeared slowly, and your heart ached as it was replaced by a sea of stars.

It was only when you were clear of the atmosphere that you noticed all four of the troopers were watching you. With the intense realization that you had no idea what expression you were wearing, you admitted, "I always wondered what it would feel like to do that."

You turned away from their curious looks, returning to the rear portion of the ship.

"We don't have much onboard," Sev told you carefully. "But there's a sonic shower. Or if you feel like eating, we have rations."

"A sonic shower?" Scorch repeated derisively. "Do you see her? What's a sonic shower gonna do?"

"Scorch!" Boss warned. "Cut back on the attitude."

"It is a valid question, though," Fixer said, looking you up and down. "How do you still have mud in your hair after nearly drowning?"

For some reason, that struck you as being insanely, ridiculously funny and you started to laugh. You laughed until your cheeks hurt, laughed until your ribs ached, you laughed until tears snaked down your face.

And then, all of a sudden, you were crying.

Deafening silence reigned in the ship, and then you found yourself shrouded in four emergency blankets before the commandos made excuses to get back in the cockpit.

You smiled to yourself, still sniffling, and pulled the blankets a little tighter. So maybe you did know people who didn't live on Voubos. You were away, you were safe. Now, you just had to figure out a new life.

---

Author's Note - I reference natural camouflage a lot in my fics, and this is a good example of it! That's what reader is doing when she covers herself in mud and twigs, and disrupts her silhouette. Just in case anyone thought I was being ridiculously weird!

Though this is not the first chapter of Refuge, I consider it to be the beginning. I'm tagging people who signed up to be tagged in the first chapter of new stories on my taglist, but I've added an option for Refuge on my taglist. Please submit a new form if you want to be on the taglist for this fic specifically! If you don't want to see any more of Refuge, don't do anything and I won't tag you in the next.

Also, be warned that updates for this fic will probably be sporadic as I focus on Gar Cyare!

Taglist: @rexs-wife @sugarpuffsstuff @just-some-girl-92 @kimageddon @ladysongmaster @carodealmeida @nomercyforthewarrior @bitchylittleredhead @lackofhonor @salaminus @hikime @808tsuika @ladykatakuri @shawtyitsyou @bikerlorian @torchbearerkyle @frietiemeloen @justanothersadperson93 @leotatombs @mavendeb @rain-on-kamino @itsagrimm @dancingwiththeplanets @hummellchen @theclonesdeservebetter @rosmariner @staycalmandhugaclone @marennial @notvalidblogname @coruscanticoffee @crookedwiings @eyecandyeoz @fordo-kixed-rex @musigrusi @lucyysthings

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