#But I like the idea that they all just jumped on board with being Ashi's Father

[satorusugurugurl]

can we please get something about satoru x reader x suguru 🤲🏻💖

i would absolutely love a third part

and fourth

and fifth 👀

Reversal!

Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, FAB!Reader

Warning: Language, smut, Reader is fuckin pissed, sitting on face, body worship

Word Count: 1,597

A/N: I received this request and a suggestion for the reader being mad. I merged the two! As for other parts, I’m so down. Send me suggestions! 😈💚

Part One Part Two

It wasn’t very often that you were sent off on a mission alone. Usually, you were stuck in Tokyo handling curses here while your partners were sent off overseas. So imagine your surprise when Yaga and the higher-ups sent you overseas to London.

You had been ecstatic!

You were looking forward to seeing sights you’d never seen before. The wonder and woe wore off the second you stepped off the plane. You were ushered off to a tiny rural village, where not one, not two, but seven curses had been spotted. It took you a damn week to exorcize all of them. You could have finished it sooner if the stupid locals stopped getting in your way.

When you finally made it home, you were irritated, exhausted, and needed stress relief. Stress relief that involved your two boyfriends and their skillful tongues and appendages. They had no idea what was in store for them as you unlocked the door.

Satoru was happily eating a cookie when the front door nearly came off its hinges just as he passed it. He choked, raising his hand to defend himself with Hollow Purple, only to see you throwing your shoes off with a dark expression washed over your pretty face.

“Oh, my fuck!” He gasped out, coughing as cookie crumbs choked him. “You scared the ever-loving shit out of my sweetheart!” When you said nothing, Satoru tilted his head, taking note of the dark circles under your eyes, the ashy tone of Your skin, and how you gritted your teeth as you threw your suitcase to the side. “Rough week?”

No words were said as you grabbed him by the front of the shirt. “Shut the fuck up.” You snarked like a lioness on the prowl.

Satoru gulped as he was yanked down the hall towards Suguru’s room. When you reached The slightly cracked door, you kicked it in, causing the raven-haired man to jump. His eyes darted from his book to the doorway, where he found your exhausted, angry features and Satoru’s terrified face.

What had they forgotten to do when you were gone? Laundry? No, that was done. Messy house? No, the duo was always neat. Dinner wasn't made? That couldn't be it; you had told them you wanted takeout before boarding the plane home. Not knowing what was going through your beautiful mind made you ten times scarier.

Several seconds passed as scenarios crossed his mind before Suguru cleared his throat. He placed his book down on the nightstand, striding towards you with a cocked eyebrow. His movements were slow and full of caution as he approached you like you were a wild beast.

“Princess? You okay?”

You moved at lightning speed, releasing Satoru before you shoved Suguru back onto the bed. He didn’t say a word as he watched you take off your panties before bunching your skirt up to your hips. Before he knew it, you were yanking down his sweats as you onto the bed. Satoru watched in horny shock as you straddled Suguru’s face and bent down over him to stroke his best friend's cock.

“Toru, get the fuck behind me, and fuck me.” You barked out as if he was supposed to know what to do.

“R-Right!” He stripped out of his clothes as Suguru groaned underneath you. His tongue wasted no time, darting out and licking at your damp folds as you took his cock into your mouth, sucking it gently. “I guess it was a rough week.”

You wanted to snap back at Satoru, but how could you when Suguru was licking your clit like it was candy. You gasped, leaning forward, taking his cock into your mouth with a hungry groan. Satoru was half tempted to sit back and watch his two sexy partners sixty-nine, but the image of your furious face had him moving despite his desires.

The feeling of Suguru’s hot wet tongue flattening and lapping over your clit, to feeling Satoru’s cock stretch you open had you gasping around Suguru’s cock, your eyes fluttering as they rolled back at the sensation. It was so good, your clit being stimulated while your pussy was being stuffed. It was like worlds were colliding; a cosmic event was taking place between your legs, and your pussy was crying happy tears.

The warmth of your mouth and hearing the grunts from Satoru had Suguru’s cock throbbing in your mouth. The stimulation was great, but having you take control, making them do what you wanted, it was just as good as them taking out their frustrations on you. Maybe he needed to talk to Yaga about sending you out more often. Oh god, what if they sent you and Satoru out together, or you and him? The possibilities were endless.

Possibilities that had Suguru furrowing his brows as he hungrily licked and sucked at your clit. If you needed them this bad, by god, he’d give you everything you fucking wanted. You wanted to cum on his face. He’d make that happen! Once you finished, if you wanted more, he’d give you more. Suguru grabbed the top of your thighs, slamming you down directly on his tongue, devouring you.

Suguru’s sudden action had Satoru wincing, his faltering as you tightened around his cock. Your walls pulsated and clenched around him. Fuck, how the fuck were you so wet but still so goddamn tight?! He felt like you were going to squeeze his cock off of the three of you and kept going at this pace. Suguru was eating you out while you gagged around his cock. The sight was better than any porn he’d ever seen. And he was fucking loving in it!

“Fuuuck~!!” Satoru threw his head back, hips jerking forward faster. “Oooh god fuck me, t-this is so hot.”

“Mmmph~ mmhm!” Suguru moaned in agreement from underneath you, sending vibrations dancing through your clit.

You gagged on Suguru’s cock pulling back enough to breathe. “If it feels that fucking good, shut up and keep going!” You shouted, sending a glare with no heat in Satoru’s direction. He didn’t freeze up under your harsh words; no, instead, he groaned as his cock twitched inside of you, his hips moving as you instructed him to do so.

His pace picked up as you went back to sucking on Suguru’s fat cock, deep-throating him with a moan as he flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Already, you were feeling your orgasm tightening in your belly. Satoru could feel it, too, from the way you clenched down on his cock, your gummy walls pulsating.

Satoru wasn’t the only one to notice. Your dark-haired boyfriend picked up on the telltale signs of you being close as well. Your clit twitched, and your moans grew louder, buzzing around his cock as you gagged on him. Knowing precisely what you needed, Suguru sealed his lips around your sensitive bud, sending your eyes shooting wide. Satoru picked up the pace of his thrusts.

The buzzing hum in your head wasn’t from being buzzed off alcohol. No, it was from being buzzed off of your partners. They worked in tandem with each other between Satoru’s thrust and Suguru’s insatiable skills with his tongue. You cried out, toes churching back, arching as they worked you to the brink of your orgasm.

“That’s right, sweetheart~ we got you~ cum~” Satoru growled against your shoulder as he kissed your skin. His words drew you closer, but Suguru sent you over the edge. He was moaning, growling around your clit as his balls clenched, his cum sliding down your throat. All the while, he moved his head back and forth as fast as he could, pulling you over the edge with him.

The orgasm that ripped through you had you rock back against Satoru and over Suguru’s still-working mouth. Satoru’s dick repetitively hits your g-spot over and over, making you squirt around him and all over Suguru’s face. While Suguru hummed in approval lapping up all of the juices he could, Satoru fucks you deeper and harder as his orgasm hits him. He fucked his load deep inside of your tight cunt, making you cry out as you pulled off of Suguru.

“O-Oooh~ oh fuck yes~!” You palm your breasts as your boyfriends gasp and pant, the three of you slowly coming down from your highs.

Once Satoru is positive he’s milked himself completely inside of you, he pulls his sensitive cock out of you, allowing you to get off Suguru, collapsing in the bed next to him. Satoru smirks, chuckling roughly as he stares down at Suguru’s fucked out expression, his perfectly beautiful face shimmering with your cum. Blue eyes dart towards you, panting just as heavily, looking a million times happier than when you first came home.

“N-Now I—“ you gasped, “I get it.”

Suguru turned his head towards your voice, “Get what, Princess?” He groaned. He was rolling into his stomach to watch you.

“Why your guys fuck the life out of me after a long mission.” Their smiles are palpable as you hum happily, pulling them both to either side of you. They oblige, Satoru resting his head over your breasts while Suguru buries his face into the crook of your neck. “That was fucking great, let go again.”

Suddenly, Satoru and Suguru were beginning to wonder if you going out on missions like them would be for the best. You were fucking unfathomable hot when you took control, but they also know how passionate you were. They could only pray their cocks would survive the night to come.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk reader smut #jjk #jjk y/n #jjk gojo smut #jjk reader insert #jjk men #jjk geto #reader jjk #jjk gojo #jjk geto smut #gojo x reader smut #geto x reader smut #gojo x reader x geto #gojou satoru x y/n #satosugu smut #satoru x reader x suguru #satoru x suguru x reader #satosugu x reader smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #satoru x reader smut #suguru x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo

[megalony]

Leave Her Out Of This

This is a new Nick Amaro imagine from SVU, requested by a lovely anon. I loved this idea and I hope you will all like it. Any feedback is always lovely to get.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

Masterlist

Summary: Nick comes back to work but he can't contain himself when he finds his wife up on their board of victims. He won't have the team dragging up her past and upsetting her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey stranger, how are you?"

A tired smile formed on Nick's face when he sluggishly walked into the squad room, trying not to drag his feet behind him and act a little more human today.

"Better," He felt much better than he did last week when he went off sick. He had barely been able to keep his eyes open and when he started to run a fever, Olivia sent him home. They didn't need him collapsing on the job or crumbling behind his desk when he wasn't well.

It had been oddly strange for Nick to spend five full days at home with (Y/n) and not have to set an alarm or wake up to a phone call in the middle of the night asking him to come in. He didn't get one call or message or even a voicemail asking for his help or for him to come back and it was the weirdest feeling in the world. The team must have realised how run down he felt to not message him at all.

He didn't feel one hundred percent just yet, but he felt better than he had done and he was well enough to come back.

Spending a few days between the bed and the couch had done him a lot of good, and being with his wife just made him feel that much better.

As he approached his desk, Nick shrugged off his overcoat and draped it on the back of his chair. He didn't want to sit down just yet because he knew if he did, he wouldn't be likely to get up again. It was best for him to keep moving and keep busy to wake himself up.

"So, what have we got?" His hands fell to his hips and he took a sweeping look around, waiting for someone to tell him what the plans were. They had just finished up on a case last week when Nick went off sick. He didn't know if they had a new case yet, if they had a victim to talk to or if they had a big case building up that they needed to work on.

"We're building up an old case with three new victims. Come see what we've got, then we can head out and speak to the latest vic."

Amanda waved a file in the air towards Nick before she got up from her desk and beckoned him to follow her.

He had missed the beginning of this case opening back up, but he could jump in and help since they hadn't spoken to any of the latest victims yet. They needed the usual statements, witnesses, coroborating stories and alibis. It was going to be a busy few days around the station.

Nick could feel himself wishing he was back home already and he had barely been here two minutes. But he tried to push those feelings down as he followed Amanda past the desks and towards the back of the squad room where the computers and the crime boards were.

They had been busy.

"New vics on the right, old ones on the left. We're still searching for more potential vics."

"So, what's the case?" Nick leaned back and sat down on the edge of the table as his arms folded over his chest and he studied the new victims. They always had better chances with new victims, old ones had the statue of limitations hanging over their heads and memories could change and fade and warp. Details could be missed as well.

"Glad to see you back," Olivia commented as she approached the boards and started pointing. "Local parish priest, Jonathon. Three girls between ten and fifteen have come forward with allegations of abuse. Looking back, we've found six previous victims, Finn is still searching for any others. He takes them under his wing, gets them helping in church after school, then progresses to attack them repeatedly."

A wave of unease washed over Nick as he tried his best to listen to what Olivia was saying. But it was hard to concentrate when a familiar sense of knowing lingered in the back of his mind and he could feel his skin starting to prickle with goosebumps.

It was as if there was an invisible hand in front of him that reached through his chest and fisted around his heart when he dared to look over at the board on the left.

Oh God no.

No, that wasn't fair. This couldn't be right.

A subtle trembling set in over Nick's body and he found himself pushing off the table to take a few steps closer to the board he was now inspecting.

It was the same man. It was the same priest. The one Nick fortunately had never met, but had heard all about over the course of a decade. This was the man that Nick had envisioned countless times when he laid awake in the dead of night, unable to sleep or think or do anything but wonder what he was like and if he had been caught out.

"…Are you familiar with the old cases?" Olivia kept her voice quiet because it seemed like Nick was caught up in a trance he couldn't break out of.

He was stood right in front of the board of old victims, but it didn't make sense. Nick wasn't old enough to have been there to work on the old cases. If he was familiar with them, it would have to be due to a fairly recent victim or because he knew someone else who had worked on this case before.

Nick's fingers twitched at his sides and his right hand jerked up before he managed to control himself and drop his hands back to his sides. He let his hands clench into fists until his short nails were puncturing into his palms, creating deep crescent moons in the skin.

"Yeah… I… I need a coffee." He turned on his heels and backed away from the board before he did something he shouldn't.

He made his way through towards the cells and moved to the small kitchen at the side. He needed a coffee to wake up and calm himself down.

His wife was on that board.

Trembles set in through his hands when he tried to pour some fresh coffee into a takeaway cup. He spilt more on the side than he got in the cup and he added three sugars to try and settle his system and his nerves.

They had (Y/n)'s picture up on that board. They had gone raking through past cases and old reports and they had dug out (Y/n)'s file.

While he had been off, they had found the few reports (Y/n) had made when she was younger.

That was why Nick knew this case back to front, he knew what that priest was capable of because it had happened to his wife. Nick knew (Y/n) had made at least three separate reports to the police, but because her parents thought so highly of the priest and didn't believe her, nothing was done. (Y/n) had no evidence of abuse and the police wouldn't file charges or make an arrest on a man of God. Not unless they had solid evidence and more witnesses.

The other girls who came forward didn't have solid cases either. Nothing was done about it.

"So, what do you know about this case, anything we can use?"

Nick glared daggers down into his cup when he trailed back towards the table and heaved down into one of the chairs opposite the boards. He slouched back and crossed one leg over the other, but he couldn't stop staring up at that board.

(Y/n) looked so young. The picture had to be her when she was thirteen or fourteen. There was something in her eyes that made Nick's stomach churn. A desperate need to be listened to; they were made of glass that was splintering and about to break. The world was hidden within those eyes that had seen far too much for someone so young.

"He grooms them first… makes them feel comfortable, preys on any family issues. He usually makes them give confession before he tries anything, then he had a hold over them. Sick fucker."

His eyes stayed on the brown paper cup in his hand that was slowly burning into his skin, creating a delicious tension that made Nick feel calmer.

He knew what the priest did, from what (Y/n) said, his motives became very clear. He wormed his way into their lives and made sure he knew their friends and family and that everyone liked him enough to never believe any of these accusations. He made the girls feel vulnerable and like they would be defying God and going against everyone if they ever spoke out.

Nick couldn't help himself, he couldn't help but look up at that picture again. He wasn't used to seeing photos of (Y/n) from when she was younger, she didn't have many photos she liked that didn't plague her with bad memories. And after she left home and went to college where she met Nick, she cut off ties with her parents. They didn't support her, they didn't help her and whether or not a small part of them believed what she had gone through, they still did nothing about it.

(Y/n) didn't want to be around them anymore when they had let her down so badly.

"I want you both to go over the old victims with Finn, get new statements, any details we can use to make a new case. The statute of limitations may have run out, but some of these girls did make reports and file complaints and we can use those."

No!

No, they were not doing this. They were not going to victimise (Y/n) all over again and put her through that trauma. Nick wouldn't allow it.

No good would come of this, he had consoled too many victims who couldn't put the past behind them. He had talked to so many victims and all of them felt worse after re-living events like this. Getting justice may help, but the process to do that didn't. No one was doing this to his wife.

Nick wouldn't see (Y/n) tell her tale to more people when she had been through it before. She had talked to her parents. She had gone through every event with the police. She had relived it when she opened up to Nick about what she had been through. She wasn't doing that again.

"Amanda, I want you to start with-"

Olivia took a step away from the board and leaned back when Nick suddenly got up. He rounded the side of the table and before either of them could speak, he slammed his hand down on the board.

Nick snatched the picture of (Y/n) from the board, tearing a crease in the top left corner where it didn't come apart from the blue tac properly. His chest heaved and his shoulders strained against his shirt as he stared down at the picture he desperately wanted to tear up into pieces but couldn't. This wasn't the girl that Nick knew. This wasn't the woman he had fallen in love with, this was a piece of her past he had seem glimpses of but never ventured into.

This was the part of (Y/n) that she wanted to bury and forget and Nick would do absolutely anything in his power to do that for her.

He reached down and snatched the eraser on the bottom of the board and set a fast pace, scrubbing the black marker from the board. He wiped away his wife's maiden name, her date of birth and the dates of her attacks. He cleaned away the information about her allegations and what she had gone through.

He wiped the slate clean, wishing this could rebound into her life and smudge away her past so it never happened.

"We have five old victims, not six. You don't use this one."

Amanda leaned back in her seat and twirled her pen between her fingers. They had gone through all these victims and they all seemed credible. He couldn't just walk in and wipe them clean and demand no one talk to them or use their statements.

"Nick, we've got statements that coroborate her story, she's a good lead-"

"She's my wife."

Silence fell over the end of the squad room just as Finn walked through with a thin paper file in his hands. No one had anything to say to that. What were they supposed to say? What were they supposed to do now?

For a few more seconds, no one spoke. All eyes landed on Nick as he stood in front of the board, his short nails puncturing holes into the eraser in his hand. His biceps strained against his sleeves from how tense he was holding himself. The veins in his neck started to push out and come on display and his jaw ground down so deeply the muscles around his neck and chin began to flex.

"Nick, I'm so sorry." Olivia held her hands in front of her and started to move the ring around her finger. "You know the way this goes, we comb through old victims to find things to help put this man away. We can leave (Y/n) down to you, we won't go near her-"

"No, you won't. You don't get it, (Y/n) went through all of this and she didn't get help. It's too late for her now, she doesn't want anything to do with this so we get this guy with the victims and the evidence we do have. No one goes near my wife, don't even mention her in any part of this."

They couldn't force their way into (Y/n)'s life.

She was done with this. It was a decade ago and (Y/n) was trying to move on. Some victims couldn't move on unless they had closure, but (Y/n) didn't feel that way. She tried to get help, she moved on, she got her life together and she was finally somewhere that she was happy and proud and pleased with herself. No one was going to run in and ruin that for her.

Testifying or making statements and reliving everything was going to burden (Y/n) and make her feel down and drag her all the way back down when she had done so well putting herself back together. If they caught this guy, great, (Y/n) could rest easy knowing no one else would get hurt.

But at the end of the day, (Y/n) was a victim, she didn't have to think of anyone else. She had tried to help, she had done her part in this. They had her statements and her files, that was all they needed from her, talking to her wasn't going to help her.

"We've got five other victims, surely that's enough?" Amanda rolled her lips into a thin line and looked over at Olivia for confirmation.

If this was Amanda's significant other, she would feel the same way. She wouldn't want the team going to talk to her partner ot combing through their life to pick it apart and get them to retell their story. She would want her partner as far away from this mess as possible and Amanda could see where Nick was coming from.

Did they really need (Y/n) if they had the rest of these girls and their case would be built solidly around the new victims?

"Nick, are you sure this is what (Y/n) wants?"

"It took her months to open up to me, she doesn't want to keep living this nightmare. Liv… she's pregnant, you think stressing her out is a good idea right now? I know everything, whatever questions you have, I can answer. Leave her out of this."

His hand planted down on his hip, crushing his wife's picture against his trouser leg while his other hand moved to cup his chin. He scratched his nails down his jaw and rubbed until it felt like he was going to tear off a layer of skin.

This was what (Y/n) wanted, Nick knew that and he knew what would go through his wife's head when she found out about the investigation.

She would want nothing to do with this.

If they spoke to her about this, it would drag up all the past and send her spiralling down when she was finally back to a good place in her life. She wasn't having nightmares or sleepless nights anymore. She wasn't afraid to be around other people and she didn't flinch when in close contact with others.

Since the moment Nick met her back in college, he had done everything he could to help her. He moved at her pace, let her slowly open up to him over the course of almost eight months. They worked through things together, he had been there when she went to therapy and every part of her recovery, Nick had tried to be there by her side.

And (Y/n) was six and a half months pregnant now.

They were finally at a place in their lives where (Y/n) felt happy and able to start a family and have the life she always wanted. With Nick.

(Y/n) was even going to church with Nick and his family now. After everything she had gone through, she was going to church and keeping some of the little faith she had left. This case would set her back years in her recovery and when this went to trial, (Y/n) would undoubtedly be near her due date.

There was no chance in Hell that Nick would let Barba put his pregnant wife up on the stand and risk stressing her out and pushing her into labour.

It wasn't worth the risk.

***

Nick could feel all the energy draining out of him as he dragged his feet and plodded up the stairs. His fingers worked at the buttons on his sleeves and he rolled them up to his elbows as his chin tucked down into his chest and he sighed.

He could feel all the energy dwindling away from him like someone was draining him down to twenty percent. Less than a week back at work was draining him to his last reserves and he felt like he would be taking another week off sick as he still wasn't fully recovered yet.

He had shed his blazer jacket the moment he walked through the door and as he reached the top of the stairs, Nick undid the tie from his collar and whipped it off from around his neck.

"Carino?" He leaned in the bedroom and tossed his tie on the bed before he turned around and headed back into the hallway when he saw the room was empty.

A soft smile pulled at his tired lips when he noticed the light was on in the spare room.

When he poked his head around the door, he let his arms fold over his chest and he leaned his body into the door frame. One leg crossed over the other and his smile softened into something sweet as his eyes locked on his wife.

(Y/n) was sat cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the room with small piles of clothes surrounding her. Blankets stacked up near her right knee, onesies and vests in front of her and the few handmade boots she had made sat proudly in front of her legs.

"You've been busy," Nick's quiet comment caused (Y/n) to lift her head and when her eyes locked on him, she bit down no her lip, obscuring a charmingly sweet smile that made his heart melt.

She placed down the boots in her hand and ran her hands along her knees, but her heart sped up and she pressed her lips together tightly when she watched her husband. He seemed to grin down at her before something caught his eye and he tilted his head back. His eyes swept around the room a few times before his head turned to the left and he looked over the wall beside him.

"Have you painted again?" The sigh was visible in the way his chest puffed out then deflated. Nick moved away from the doorframe and took a few steps into the room so he could look up at the walls.

They had painted the first coat on the walls two days before he went off sick from work. They spent the next few days lounging around the house with Nick too tired and run down to do anything. And when he had gone back to work, he didn't think about the second coat of paint that the walls needed. The room was a very pale shade of grey that had hints of lilac mixed in. It was a neutral colour since they were keeping the gender a secret.

"Maybe," (Y/n) tilted her head down and shrugged when Nick huffed.

"And you thought it would be safe to get up on the ladder without me home? What if you fell?"

If she wanted to paint, Nick would of preferred (Y/n) just painted the part of the walls she could reach and leave the skirting edges at the ceiling for him to do. He didn't like the thought of her getting up on a ladder without him here, especially when she was home alone. If she fell or hurt herself or knocked herself out she wouldn't have a way to get help.

(Y/n) lifted her head when Nick crouched down in front of her, being mindful of the clothes she was trying to sort out and had piled around her like a circle of protection.

Her lips curved up and a shiver ran down her spine when his hand cupped her chin so he could plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"Sorry… I got the crib out too but I got a bit sidetracked." She let her eyes dance across to the side of the room before she looked back at Nick and gently traced her hand across his neck.

She could feel the growl that vibrated through his shirt and up his neck which made his jaw shudder. He leaned forward to steal another kiss before his eyes locked on the right side of the room. The crib should have been flat-packed and still in the box he had leant up against the wall. Instead, the instructions were on the floor beneath the window, the tool box was at the ready and all the pieces were set out into rows very neatly.

"You know that's my job, you should be resting."

He spoke against her lips, letting each word fan across her dark lips before he gave in to temptation and kissed her again, pulling her lower lip between his teeth. He didn't want (Y/n) doing everything and he didn't want her overworking herself when his back was turned and he left the house.

"Come on, I think you've earned a break." Nick moved his hands round until he was holding the back of (Y/n)'s elbows and he let her hands fall on his shoulders.

He slowly eased her up to her feet with him but his brows raised and his eyes widened when (Y/n) leaned forward. Her hands moved from his shoulders to wrap around his neck and her face buried forward in his chest near his collar bone.

A tender look crossed his face and his lips quirked into a sideways smile as (Y/n) leaned forward into him. He slid his hands down to her waist and planted his hands flat on her lower back with his arms pressing lovingly into her sides. Nick held her against his chest for a little while with his cheek pressed on the top of her head.

He began to sway them from side to side as if soft music was lulling in the background.

His hand moved to rub up and down her back and his other hand slid further down to cup her bum while he pressed his lips longingly to the top of her head. They stayed like that for another minute or more, but Nick could feel his smile starting to fade when (Y/n) didn't let him go.

She tightened her arms around his neck when he tried to lean back to look down at her.

"Carino… is everything okay?" The words vibrated through her hair and he pressed another kiss against her temple while his hand stopped against the middle of her back. His thumb began to glide up and down over the back of her shirt but he kept swaying them from side to side to try and keep the serenity around them.

"Did you see the news today?"

(Y/n)'s voice came out as quiet as a whisper on the wind but she didn't want to pull away. Not yet. She could feel the first few buttons of Nick's shirt were undone and she nuzzled her nose against his chest until she could rest her cheek against his bare skin, nudging his shirt out the way.

"No, we were driving round town all day doing interviews, why? What did it say?" Nick had been driving for the best part of his twelve hour shift and when he wasn't in the car, he was asking questions and taking down notes. Two out of the five previous victims they were talking to had refused to talk to them and clammed up when they arrived.

It hadn't been a very productive day and Nick was glad to be home. He didn't have time to watch the news.

"A reporter has confirmation that… that a priest in the area is under suspicion of sexual allegations… it's him."

(Y/n) kept her face buried into Nick's chest and she felt the sharp breath he took and how his stomach tensed and pulled inwards against her. His hand pressed down deeper into her back and he tilted his head so he could rest his chin on top of her hair.

As soon as she saw it on the news, (Y/n) hurriedly turned the tv off. She didn't dare turn it back on after that and when she did, she had gone straight to the movie channels so no news would pop up.

(Y/n) didn't want to listen or read whatever they were spouting. She didn't want to see his picture pop up on the screen and remind her of the nightmares she had tried to forget. She didn't need his face back in her memory when she had finally started to forget what he looked like and in her dreams, he appeared as a faceless blurr.

Nor did (Y/n) want to hear what he was accused of and hear how old the other girls were. She didn't need to be reminded that this predator was still out on the streets because no one had taken her seriously or listened to her as a teenager.

"The case landed on Liv's desk when I went off sick. I have to work the case and look into it." Nick knew he needed to tell (Y/n), but he thought he would have another few weeks before any reports got leaked and the media found out what and who they were investigating. He wanted to sit (Y/n) down and calmly tell her about this so she had some forwarning instead of finding out like this.

He felt the shudder than ran through her body and seemed to pass right into him. He could feel the sharp breaths she took but instead of pulling out of his arms, she held him tighter. (Y/n) unlocked her arms from his neck and slid her hands down so she could loop them beneath his arms and bound them tightly around his chest.

"Do I… Nick, I don't wanna…" Tears burned in the corners of (Y/n)'s eyes as she finally pulled back enough to look up at him.

Her chin pressed down into his chest so her head could tip back and stare up at her husband. She could see the emotions pooling deep in his brown eyes and his lips parted for a few seconds while he tried to think of something to say.

"Shh, carino it's okay. You don't have to do anything, I swear. You're not part of this investigation, no one will talk to you and you're not going anywhere near that trial when it starts."

His hand moved up from her bum and curled loosely around the back of her neck so he could lean down and smother his lips against her forehead. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin and the light trembling that settled in her bones. This is what he was afraid of. This is what Nick tried to tell the team. He knew (Y/n) like the back of his hand and he knew she wouldn't want any part of this.

"Really?" (Y/n) hated how much her voice wobbled and her nails dug into Nick's back when he replaced his lips with his temple against hers.

As soon as it came on the news, (Y/n) had fought hard not to go into a panic and she stopped herself from going down to the station to talk to Nick. She didn't want to bother him at work but to distract herself, she had spent the day in the nursery. The thought of their impending baby had been a great distraction to (Y/n), she painted the nursery, got the crib out into sections and started on the clothes.

(Y/n) didn't want to testify.

She didn't want to open up to anyone else about the torment she had gone through as a teen. She didn't want the sympathy looks she got from others and she didn't want the people her husband worked with to look at her like that or hear the gruesome details of her abuse.

It happened a long time ago and (Y/n) wanted to move on. She and Nick were happy, they were having a baby and starting their family together; this was the last thing they needed.

"Really. For you, this is over. That shit on the news has nothing to do with you Carino."

"Do they know?"

The pain in her voice was more than clear and it made Nick's lungs seize up. He wanted to tell her no. He wanted to say the team had no idea what she had gone through, but he could never lie to her.

None of their friends knew what (Y/n) had gone through and Nick's family only found out a few small details after they got engaged. While she had been his girlfriend, his family had no idea what she had gone through and all Nick disclosed to his parents and sister was that (Y/n) had gone through a degree of abuse as a teenager. He didn't say an specifics or who it had involved, when, where or how long for.

They knew the basics and only what they desperately needed to know. That was how they both wanted it to be.

(Y/n) leaned her head to the right when both Nick's hands moved to cup her face. His thumb swiped across her cheek and cleared away a tear that started to fall and he tipped her head down so he could press a longing kiss to her forehead.

"They had your name and the old reports. I took it down before they could look any further into it. As far as they're concerned, your name's been erased."

Nick was glad he got to the board before any of the team looked through all of (Y/n)'s case files and before they got to speak to her. As far as the team were concerned, when Nick scrubbed (Y/n)'s name off the board, he was erasing her from the entire investigation.

Olivia had agreed not to tell Barba that they had a sixth past victim. They hadn't told him that they had a victim who refused to speak to them, they hadn't told him Nick had a personal link to this investigation. As far as everyone else knew, (Y/n) wasn't involved in this, her name wouldn't come up. And now she was married to Nick, her last name was officially Amaro and had been for the last two years. She wasn't connected to this case anymore.

"You have nothing to worry about, carino. Okay?"

The small, tepid smile that graced (Y/n)'s lips was enough to calm her down and stop her from falling into floods of tears. She nodded her head in his hands and reached up to grip his wrists, as if silently telling him not to dare let go.

She pushed up on her toes and connected their lips, mumbling a quiet 'thank you' into his mouth which he swallowed up as he devoured her lips.

"Anything for you, carino."

#nick amaro x reader #nick amaro imagine #nick x reader #nick amaro #law and order svu #law and order #imagine #pregnant! reader #pregnancy

[swordsxandxshadows]

Okay, this idea hit me...but Ashi getting asked in the Triplet AU ‘We need to talk to your father’ and her reply would 100% be ‘Which one?’. 

Fite me, she has four Dads (Ryou, Ryota, Ryoma, and Aku).

#OutOfTime {OOC} #Three Brothers...{Verse} #One day I might just throw Ashi into this blog cause #I love her and I need Samurai Dad and his adopted daughter #But this would be hilarious as heck #Just like technically since Aku and Ryota are a couple they'd be defacto Dads and Ryou and Ryoma would be 'Uncles' #But I like the idea that they all just jumped on board with being Ashi's Father #Cause like that's cute #Mention {sonxflight}

[your-highnessmarvel]

From Bleak to Bright - Part Eight

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: this chapter is long but the end is worth it puppies;)

Warnings: angst, language

Enjoyed this and want more? Send in your requests!

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MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

PART EIGHT

Loki never came back home that night. Nor the next morning. It was odd without him in the loft. You ventured to other rooms, which as you’d guessed, were other rooms. You didn’t want to sleep in Loki’s gold bed with silk sheets. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea if he came back home from some sort of battle or whatever he did when he was out. 

You didn’t want him finding his soulmate in his bed and think something was going to go down.

Not yet anyway. 

You cringed at that thought, sitting on the side of the bed you’d borrowed last night. Your feet hung from the edge; the bed was so gigantic you’d practically thrown yourself into it to be able to board the goddamn thing. 

You peaked from the open door, listening for any sound, but the loft was dark and quiet, just as you’d left it the night before. There were no windows in this place, so you went through the hallway and kitchen, flicking on lights in your cotton pajamas you’d taken from Loki’s wardrobe. 

He’d stocked the kitchen with all assortment of human candies. Twizzlers. Starbursts. Lucky Charms. 

Sour Puss? Why did Loki buy eighteen-year-old liquor? 

You made yourself a bowl of Lucky Charms, playing with your cereal, wondering what the hell you were supposed to do for the day. As far as you’d seen, there were no books. No internet. No computer to play games. What the hell did Loki even do in this loft anyway?

A fleeting thought answered you. All of this is temporary. This is not his home and it never will be.

The bare walls, the rooms full of nothingness, no paraphernalia of any kind anywhere. There weren’t any of his clothes in the wardrobe either. Loki just slept here. Barely. 

The bathroom was sparkling, as if no one had ever used it. The loft smelled like a new car, the leather couches gleaming and new.

You weren’t going to stay here long, either. 

Loki was on Earth temporarily, surviving on Lucky Charms and illusions. 

You didn’t know what to make of yourself, and you certainly weren’t about to lie on your bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for the God of Mischief to grace you with his presence. No. 

After breakfast, you dressed in black trousers and t-shirt, and a pair of boots that would sustain a lot of walking. You tied your hair in a low braid.

You took one large breath before grabbing the front door and yanking. If Loki had locked you in, you’d kill him.

But the door swung open, breaking open the cap on the noise. Chatter, clanking, beeping, smoke came crashing to your senses as you opened up the door to the lab sitting just on the other side. The unbearable heat washed over you as you stepped out, your eyes taking in the ragged, sprung up lab life vibrating before you. 

Curiously, you ventured deeper, keeping close to the wall, making sure no one really paid attention to you. Everyone there seemed really, really into their job, anyway. As if they were in a trance. 

Mind control, you thought shyly. Loki had used his staff, you were sure. Upon closer inspection, heart beating in your chest, inching closer to a woman overly invested in a piece of glass, you saw it. The blurred gaze. Irises as blue and nebulous as the tip of Loki’s staff. Broken, chapped lips. Skin ashy and sickened, as if she hadn’t eaten or drank anything in days. Or slept. The sunken, black skin beneath her eyes told you this lab worked 24/7. 

Gulping, you whirled, trying to find the exit. People milled by you, paying you no mind. As if you were just another one of them. 

This was making you sick, the moral of it all reaching a valuable place inside you. The fact that Loki has stuffed these peoples’ heads with - what? - and turned them into living, breathing robots made you want to yell. At him, mostly.

Just then you spotted a sign over a door. Exit. Well, at least Loki cared about fire safety. You walked to it, determined, and all but burst through the doors, the sound of them slamming shut behind you echoing into the hallway, which you walked through with the same harsh pace. 

It was only when you’d burst into the warehouse, the sound disrupting the small bubble of peace, did you finally take a deep, soothing breath. The outside world shimmered before you, just beyond the yawning mouth of the warehouse. You saw a shimmering horizon, hot, blazing cement.

This wasn’t a warehouse, you realized. It was a hangar. A huge, awning hangar with a stolen, SHIELD-issued jet in the far left corner. 

You remembered how you even got here - the tightening of your skin, the feeling of it ripping and rippling as time and space shivered around you. No wonder you didn’t remember the extent of the “warehouse” when you’d landed here, the state of your mind and stomach making you woozy.

“Hey!”

Someone came running to you. It was one of those tall, all-black clad figures. His reflective mask glimmered in the lights of the hangar as he jogged to you, left hand on his hip, where a baton dangled.

“You’re not supposed to leave,” he said, his voice monotone, emotionless. Robotic. Controlled.

Frowning, taking a careful step back, you said, “I’m not allowed to leave?”

“Correct.” Then, more harshly. “Loki’s demands.”

There was a brief, hot red moment where you wanted to batter your fists against this man’s entire being, but then you remembered he didn’t even know he was here. He was being mind controlled. He was just a body, just like the entirety of the lab buzzing behind you. 

“I want to leave,” you said, squaring your shoulders.

“Impossible.”

You set your jaw, looking at this guard from under your brows. “Loki,” you said, unsure if this would work. “Loki, tell this idiot to step out of my way or so help me God I will destroy your precious little lab behind me.” Just to emphasize your words, you put your hand back on the doorknob.

There was a second where you thought the guard would just burst out laughing and bend over, mocking you. But he just stood there, reflective mask showing you your distorted reflection. 

And then his head cocked, his hands flexed. 

You knew Loki was listening, through whatever kind of bond he’d set on these people. 

“Let me go, Loki,” you grit through your teeth. 

The guard shrugged. “I am inclined to watch what you’ll do with this little freedom,” the guard said, Loki’s words in his mouth distorted. “But I am afraid the Avengers are hot on your trail.”

Your fists clenched. “There’s nothing but Lucky Charms in the loft,” you groaned. “What in the hell am I supposed to do?”

The guard chuckled. “Wait for me to come home in a little skirt with dinner?” he suggested sarcastically.

You wanted to hit him, but you knew you’d only be hurting this mind-controlled man and not Loki. 

“Wow, I never took you for a backwards and traditional man,” you gritted.

Another chuckle, but this one felt condescending. “I am only expressing my deepest fantasy, darling.”

“Ew.” Then you inhaled, closing your eyes, mustering the energy to talk to him. “Loki, please, I - “

The guard put his hand up. “I am coming back soon, my darling,” he said, again, his voice distorted by Loki’s words. “I have stocked the living room with books you may enjoy in the meantime.”

And then the guard shuddered, his head dropping momentarily, Loki’s persona stripping itself from the stranger. The guard inhaled sharply, took one long look at you, and then turned on his heel and headed back to his post. 

You were tempted to make a run for it, but where? You had no idea where you were. The shimmering, hot horizon indicated not New York. And it’s not like you knew how to pilot a jet. 

With a bruised ego and a slump to your shoulders, you walked back to the loft, passing through the heated, messed-up lab without a wayward look. And as Loki had promised - through the guard - the living room table was stacked with leather bound books.

You picked one up. Legends and Myths of the Gods; Odin’s Pantheon. You rolled your eyes. Of course, Loki had stocked your book requiem with stories about him. How had you not seen this coming?

You huffed, throwing yourself on the brand new leather couch, opening the book, the spine cracking from time unused. 

The first chapter was all about Odin’s conception, down right to Loki’s adoption from the Frost Giants on Jotunnheim. A brisk, fleeting thought went to young Loki, learning that his father was not really his father, and that his mother, who loved him so, was not the one to bring him into this world. 

You skimmed through the chapters on Thor, because, let’s be honest, all you truly wanted to get to was Loki’s life. 

You read about his trickery, his skill and love for magic, something he’d picked up from the Queen. How Loki loved horses and literature. He loved delicacy, the richness of royalty, women, and - 

You read it over. Yes, Loki loved women. A lump formed in your throat as you skipped along, trying to find mention of any women in Loki’s life. All you found of concrete evidence was the women in his realm had started calling him Silver Tongue.

A blush crept up your cheeks, heating the flesh so bad that you had to slam the book shut.

And Loki stood right behind it, leaning against the wall leisurely. You all but jumped in your seat, knees to your chest, book clattering to the ground. 

He laughed. “Curious about good ol’ Loki’s past?” he asked, sauntering over, throwing himself down next to you. He lounged his left arm over the back of the couch, his dark blue sweater stretching over the expanse of his chest. 

Oh, if only he knew just what past exactly you were looking at. 

He spread his knees, black trousers clean, completely at ease. 

You gulped, pressing your knees further into your chest. He quirked his brow, his question still unanswered. 

“Oh,” you said, stuttering with the next words trying to come out. “I was just, um, reading through your family history.” Silver Tongue, you wanted to say. 

He huffed. “Nothing interesting there,” he hummed. You felt like there was something more to it, but you didn’t want to dig deeper because maybe you’d unveil something you didn’t want to see.

“Where were you?” you asked, deciding that maybe this conversation was going in a direction you rather not go. Yet.

He smiled. “Didn’t want to wait for me with dinner?”

You rolled your eyes. “I couldn’t find a skirt,” you mumbled sarcastically.

His brows rose so high on his forehead, you thought they’d fall off his face. “I could provide one, if you wish.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the heat on your cheeks. You unbent your knees, picking the book off the floor and replacing it on the pile. “I don’t like skirts,” you said, not really sure why you were saying this. 

“Why?” he asked, frowning. His left hand, the one draped over the couch, was dangerously close to the back of your head. “You’d look good in them.”

Again, heat rose to your cheeks, a group of butterflies taking flight in your belly. “No, I’m, uh, self-conscious.”

He leaned closer, frowning, the smell of him invading your senses in a rush. His knee bumped yours and your eyes fell there, where there was only the fabric of both your pants separating your skin. 

“Why?” he said, his voice low. 

You gulped. “I’ve never liked... my legs,” you admitted with a nonchalant shrug, still looking at his stupid left knee. 

There was a silence, a long silence, and you still stared at his knee as if his knee would start telling that your legs were nice.

Instead, his left hand landed on your thigh, not gripping, not groping, just lightly touching. When you looked up at him, his eyes bore into yours with a sincerity you’d never seen before. 

A small smile tugged at his mouth. “I’m sure you’re just as beautiful from the waist down.”

It was a weak attempt at making you feel better, but at least he tried. And even if it almost made you laugh, the idea that Loki thought you were beautiful made something tug deep in your belly. 

His hand shifted, fingers grazing exposed skin at your neck, tracing lines on your flesh. Raising goosebumps. Humming to himself. 

“You have such wonderful skin,” he murmured. You looked down at his lips molding the words. His fingers inched to your jaw, tracing up to the corner of your eye, bringing fire up with him. “Such beautiful eyes.” His words were like a melody to you, your body buzzing, reacting as much to his words as his touch.

His finger slid down to your lips, tracing the bottom one with his thumb, and you involuntarily turned to him. His eyes dropped down to your mouth quickly, returning to your gaze with a new, flickering flame. “Such a charming mouth,” he said, his voice roach, low, almost a whisper. 

You swallowed hard and Loki watched your throat bob. 

He inclined his head, his forehead grazing yours. You wanted to reach up, grasp the strands of his hair, but your fists were glue at your sides. 

He smirked, huffing. “I’ve wanted a soulmate for so long,” he admitted in a low voice. He licked his lips. Inching closer to you on the couch. “I want to do so many things to you,” he whispered.

You felt the heat creep up your face and you looked down, Loki’s thumb pushing against your lips, and he chuckled softly. 

“If you want to kiss something, I’m right here,” he said mockingly, and you smiled, pushing his hand away. He laughed softly, replacing his hand on the back of the couch.

He gave you a second to regain the normal temperature of your skin before chuckling to himself. “If you were in Asgard,” he said, his voice faraway. “People would bow to you. They’d call you Princess. You’d have a title and land. A crown. They’d call you My Lady when you are being stubborn.” 

You tried not to imagine it, really, you did. You tried not to imagine what a life could be like with Loki, on splendid and gold Asgard, living out your mortal days with a God. You really tried not to imagine it all because then it meant leaving Bruce behind, and leaving him in New York had not been easy, but leaving your brother forever? The thought was unimaginable. 

A lump rose in your throat when you said, “Tell me more.” You leaned into the couch, bringing your knees to your chest, chin on your kneecaps. 

Loki smiled brightly, his fingers lightly playing with your hair, and told what your life would be like if you were immortal, if you were Asgardian, if you were not truly and wholly you.

tags:  @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor 

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #imagine loki #loki imagine #loki oneshot #soulmate au #lokixyn #lokixyou #lokixreader #loki x you #loki x yn #loki x reader #angst #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

[spell-cleaver]

DAY 14: WHUMPTOBER: Is Something Burning? @whumptober2020​

Again, this is set in The Pirate Son ‘verse! This is how Luke escaped being hanged.

His father wasn’t going to help him. The queue for the gallows snaked forward and forward, until Luke stood in front of the platform and there were hands under his shoulders, hauling him up. He shivered as the cold wind blew through his hair, but lifted his chin, stoic, as the hangman shoved him none-too-gently onto the trap door. The cuffs which suppressed Luke’s magic were stiff against his wrist, making him feel even heavier. Every footstep thumped like a battle drum. A death knell.

The hangman leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I can’t wait to see you get what you deserve, pirate.”

Luke said nothing. He kept staring out at the crowd—he had a better view from up here. The Emperor’s box was directly front of him, draped in red silks, with his father standing at the Emperor’s right side. Palpatine was watching him closely, goading him—he was mouthing something at Luke, but Luke refused to look—and Vader, under his eternal mask, looked impassive. There was nothing to see there, so Luke did not view him for very long.

Instead, he just set his jaw, and stared at the fluttering edge of that red silk. Embroidered in gold and black, it was fraying, damp from the rain and mud that permeated the rest of the square.

He kept his eyes fixed where that scrap of fabric had been in his vision even when the hangman eclipsed it, dragging the coarse rope of the noose around his neck. His breath was hot against his ear.

“My brother was a great sailor. A loyal man. When he was assigned a ship on Tarkin’s pride ship, the Death Star, it was the family’s honour.” Luke did close his eyes before this man could spit in them. “Until some nobody pirate sank it and sent him to the bottom of the sea.”

“You wish I was a nobody pirate,” Luke whispered back. “You wish that all of us were nobodies, or and you think that your precious sailors are any better than we are. They’re not. We’re not. And if breaking unjust Imperial laws that perpetuate oppression, sadism and death makes me a villain, or a scoundrel… I am happy to be one.”

The wounds up his back, his face, from the keelhauling still stung. They stung like crazy. And when that hangman backhanded him so hard he saw stars, they hurt even more.

“I hope your death is agonising. It seems to be. And I know you will suffer thereafter.”

Luke spat at his feet. “All the suffering this life directs at people like me, I’d hope that I wouldn’t.”

He cringed back when he heard movement, bracing himself for another hit, but the hangman just grunted. There—there was a moment where he pulled on the rope, and Luke cried out as it constricted his throat momentarily, tightly, for three long seconds—

Then the guy loosened it again and walked over to the lever, probably smiling to himself.

It occurred to Luke that it probably wasn’t wise to antagonise the man who held his life in his hands, but he was going to snuff it out anyway. Might as well enjoy antagonising him while he could.

His gaze found that scrap of fabric again, blowing in the wind. His vision was still blurry from the hit—or were those tears? He didn’t want to die, after all, much less at his father’s order—so when at first he saw the smoke, he thought he was imagining it. The first shadow he would see, among many.

Then he blinked, while the hangman began to read his charges.

“Luke Skywalker, pirate, self-styled ‘privateer’ who served aboard wanted ships the Falcon and the Rogue, is sentenced, for dozens of counts of murder, piracy, theft, sabotage—”

Was… was that…?

“—damage of Imperial naval and civilian property, collusion with Rebels, treason—”

Smoke?

His mouth dropped open when he saw it; the gesture was uncomfortable, against the rope digging into his neck.

There was a fire burning.

There was a fire burning under the Emperor’s box.

Someone had set fire to the silks.

“—resisting arrest, and most notably, the destruction of Governor Tarkin’s naval vessel the Death Star and the wanton slaughter of all personnel on board—”

Palpatine had no idea. Palpatine was staring at Luke, as Luke saw when he finally deigned to look at him, with a sadistic glee on his face, a faint smile. Luke smiled back, allowing his bitterness to shine through—and none of his hope.

His gaze flicked to his father, at Palpatine’s right. Did he notice the smoke, the flames eating the box away as the hangman drivelled? Surely he must. Surely—

But Vader did not flinch.

He kept staring at Luke.

“—for these crimes, and many others not listed, in the name of His Majesty the Emperor Palpatine and the glorious Empire he protects, Skywalker is to hang by the neck until dead—”

A shadow flickered. Luke raised his gaze further, to see a silhouette atop a nearby house around the square, the sun on their shoulder, raising a bow.

Aimed right at him.

Kill me, he mouthed. Kill me quickly.

“—and,” the hangman finished, “may God have mercy on his rotten soul.”

He lowered the scroll of paper, his heavy black clothes moving around him in a way that was uncomfortably similar to Luke’s father’s as he stepped up to the lever. Luke didn’t let himself look away as he put his hand on it, ready to pull.

“Does the condemned have any last words to express?” Palpatine called out suddenly, the rest of the square awed into silence by his voice. “Anything he would like to say. I am not a man without mercy, if he repents.”

The hangman paused, clearly resentful that Luke might not be killed after all, but he paused to look at Luke.

Luke looked levelly at Palpatine, and pointedly did not look at the fire underneath him.

“I hope you burn,” he said.

Palpatine’s lips twisted. “Do it.”

And then several things happened at once.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw movement, and instinctually flinched, expecting the yank on his neck any time soon, expecting—

He was not expecting—

The archer on the rooftop fired. The arrowhead was broad, and sharp—and scythed right through the rope. Luke gasped as he felt it thump against his back.

That—

How—

He didn’t stop to think. He didn’t stop to breathe—he just reached up, with his hands that were bound together in front of him, and seized the noose, yanking on it until it loosened, tearing it off his neck and stumbling toward the edge of the platform.

“Hey—!" the hangman shouted—but not at him. There was another thunk, and a spray of blood, and the hangman went down.

His knife was on his belt.

Luke’s eyes alighted on it, and he scrambled for it, hurrying, ignoring the way a hailstorm of arrows was descending from the rooftops, picking off assailants climbing onto the gallows one by one, crawling toward the hangman’s corpse awkwardly to where the blade reflected  the steel grey sky…

He smelt burning before he heard the crackling.

When he looked up, he expected to be the recipient of a furious glare on Palpatine’s part. Nor did he expect his father to be please, either. But when he glanced up, Palpatine—of course—had bigger issues to worry about.

The stand was on fire.

He was surrounded by flames.

The red guards were shouting, grabbing for His Insincere Majesty, trying to get him out soon—and Luke laughed when he turned his head and closed his hand around the hilt of the knife. He sawed at his bonds, quickly, not wasting any time, even as the smoke rose and the crackling got louder—the surroundings got hotter.

Leia was here! It had to be her; there was no one else he knew who was so deadly in aim, so brilliant, good enough to plan this out. And Wedge—Wedge, whose alarming pyromaniac tendencies they’d had to aggressively curb on a ship at sea, it must have been him who suggested the fire, and Han who had the sheer balls to pull it off—

These were his friends, they were coming for him—

The ropes gave. He gave a sigh of relief, then—then had a thought. Jabbed the tip of the knife into the lock on the shackles that bound his magic, twisted it, wriggled it…

It fell loose.

He crowed as his magic flooded back into him. Whipped his head up and glanced around—and when one of the city guard came for him, sword out and face contorted in hatred, Luke shot him back with a strong spell to the gut.

Then he got to his feet.

Every part of him hurt. His back and face roared with his keelhauling injuries. His neck smarted, sore, where the guy had tightened the noose. His old, old wounds, from his capture, were still scrapes over his torso. His existence, as it had always been, was pain.

But his magic thrummed through him and all was well.

The fire was spreading. The crowd ran, screaming, and torn scraps of crimson silk danced in the wind, flickering about them, burning to embers and dust among the carnage. The Emperor’s beautiful box burnt, and before Luke’s very eyes, the fire jumped from wooden stand to wooden stand, until it gnawed at the very gallows he was standing on. He made to jump, to leave, to escape, to find his friends and get out of here and return to the sea where he belonged—

But he glanced at the Emperor’s box for one moment too long.

It was a monument to destruction, all orange and black. All he could see were silhouettes—but he knew those silhouettes.

Vader was pointing a sword at Palpatine.

Luke stared.

Vader was pointing a sword at Palpatine.

His father opened his mouth to roar words Luke could not make out, and then sparks bluer than the fire itself erupted between the lords, obscuring Luke’s view, and—

Luke had delayed too long.

The fire was on the gallows, the deadweight noose shrivelling to a husk, the soles of his boots heating up. Smoke clogged his lungs.

“Jump, Luke!” a voice shouted, floating on the ashy air.

Luke took a running leap, and jumped.

The crowd was a thick knot of people, pushing and pulling in every which way, their terror evident in their screams. But one knot was put together, they knew what they were doing, hidden behind the helmets of Vader’s 501st soldiers—Luke’s friends were geniuses, that was the perfect way to smuggle themselves in—and when he jumped, they raised their hands to catch him. They grunted when he landed, letting him down harshly—his back twinged—but gently enough that no injury was done. One of them placed a hand on his shoulder.

A very tight hand.

“We have him,” an unfamiliar—no, not unfamiliar, no—voice said. “Tell Lord Vader we have him.”

“Lord Vader has left the Emperor’s box; he’ll meet us at the Lady,” another voice came, and then Luke was being hauled up, multiple hands clasped onto his arms, and—

“What!?” he asked, trying to shake them off. “What—what are you—”

“You’re coming with us, Skywalker.”

“What!? No!” Luke stopped. Kicked, struggled—screamed.

When they just shifted their grips on him so he couldn’t fight as easily, he cried out from pain of it.

“Where are my friends?” he demanded. “What are you—”

“Your friends aren’t here, Skywalker. Vader rescued you.” Luke’s jaw fell open. “And if you want to survive, if you want to escape being hanged, you are going to walk with us.”

Luke did not walk with them. And he did not make it easy for them to drag him.

Even undead soldiers disliked it when their fingers got ripped off.

#the pirate son #thepirateson #my writing #random words on a page #luke skywalker #darth vader #for darkness shows the stars #flash fiction #flash fiction: star wars #whumptober2020 #whumptober

[freshtomatoesddd]

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap chp. 6

    “Whoa, what’s that?” Ty Lee’s eyes sparkled in wonder.

    “It’s called a train,” Azula said.

Ty Lee stepped towards the machine. It sat on a bed of rails which stretched far past the horizon, and the ‘train’ itself was a wonder, made out of several carts with the Fire Nation emblem on the front cart. The brunette recalled Azula stating that it was not only capable of transporting equipment and resources, but passengers as well. And as her eyes scanned the metal machine, Ty Lee was able to wrap her head around such a claim.

     “Are you going to let her keep ogling the thing?” Mai asked.

The brunette turned around. Ashy eyes met with the tawny brown of her friend’s, though her gaze had been narrowed down on Ty Lee, a displeased look replacing her usual blasé expression. Azula on the other hand had her eyes fixed onto the brunette. She wondered what to do under Azula’s stare, her mind questioned how it was that she hadn’t grown used to the princess’s routine looks. All she could come up with was a simple wave.

Mai groaned. “Can we just get on already?”

      “Very well,” Azula said.

Ty Lee then boarded the train, along with her friends and about five dozen soldiers. Though, she hadn’t a clue where they were headed. Last she remembered, they were to visit a state near Ba Sing Se, but the princess hadn’t specified which one. She leaned on the fine leather of her seat, pleased that their cart had been made with the same materials as Azula’s office. From the dark varnish of the metal floors, to the cabinets around them which held a number of scrolls, and the dark brown oak of their table. Such a theme rang familiar with her, gave off a sort of comfort she loved.

    “Hey, where are we going anyway?” Ty Lee queried.

     “Kerkaw. We’ll be there by daybreak,” Azula said, the rustling of paper between her fingers.

She turned around to look out the window. There, it seemed that the outside world sped past them. It made Ty Lee wonder if they were the ones moving, or if their environment had taken up to running faster than she imagined it possible. She knew that it was feasible for the ground to move, whether that be from earth quakes or the gradual movement from within the earth. She questioned how many thousand years it would take for the dirt under them to be moving at such speed, similar to what she was experiencing.

An interesting conundrum. She asked herself if human beings were able to survive long enough to see such a day happen, though she knew it to be ‘improbable,’ as Azula would say. Then, she asked if it were possible for the Fire Nation to create faster trains, ones which could zoom past Ba Sing Se till Kerkaw in only an hour. That would be nice.

     “Why are we going there?” Mai asked in a rather dull voice.

Ty Lee took her eyes off the window, her buzzing mind now calmed as Mai’s question brought her back to the present. Her friend looked bored as always.

Azula’s eyes were glued to a text. “My father has assigned me there; he wrote that I was to eliminate a local warlord in Chao.”

Mai shrugged. “Then why are we going to Kerkaw? And why do you have to deal with him?”

    “Mai, you shouldn’t question the Fire Lord’s orders,” Azula said.

    “I’m not, I’m just saying that the Fire Lord could’ve made one of his generals do it. You’re already governing Ba Sing Se, and he wants you to do beat up some warlord on top of that?”

Azula quirked up a brow. “Do you, perhaps, feel inconvenienced?”

     “I do.” Mai’s expression lay blank.

The princess smirked. “Well, I’m sorry that you won’t be able to read any of my dear brother’s letters till we get back. Truly, I pity the both of you.”

    “Whatever,” Mai said.

Ty Lee jumped in. “Hey, come on guys, calm down. And besides, isn’t this cool? I mean, we’re on a train.”

Mai looked at her. “What about it?”

The brunette leaned in as she grabbed Mai’s arms. “Are you kidding me? We’re going a million kilometers an hour, I never even knew this was possible.”

    “You’ve never been on a train before?” Mai asked, retracting from Ty Lee’s grasp.

Ty Lee furrowed her brows. “No, have you?”

Mai shrugged. “A couple of times. But I got to say, the constant smog and depressing interior isn’t for me.”

The brunette gasped. “What—Really? But the trains in Ba Sing Se aren’t like that.”

    “No, the ones in the mainland.”

    “They have trains in the mainland now?”

Mai nodded.

    “Wow, that’s so cool. Why didn’t you tell me?” Ty Lee asked.

     “I thought we’d get back sooner,” Mai’s eyes veered off to the side, “Then you’ll see all the stuff you missed since you joined the circus.”

Azula joined in. “Even if you have been on a train before, none would compare in terms of speed.”

Mai rolled her eyes. “What does it matter? They’re all the same anyway.”

     “I wouldn’t say that,” Azula flipped to another page, “I personally oversaw the creation of this one.”

Again, Ty Lee gasped. “How did you get it to run super-fast?”

Azula looked up for a brief moment. “I wouldn’t know. I told the engineers that they had better make a faster model, and so they did.”

Though disappointed at such a simple answer, Ty Lee figured that even with a detailed reply, she wouldn’t be able to make sense of it. But still, the fact that they were able to sit inside such a wonder of engineering, she couldn’t help but to continue staring out the window. Ty Lee wondered what the trains in the mainland were like, and if they truly couldn’t compete in terms of speed, as well as power.

As the ride went on, Ty Lee struck up conversation with Mai. Though she noted that the latter was reluctant to join in, as most all the topics Mai found to be uninteresting. They spoke of the train, as Ty Lee couldn’t stop fawning over how advanced and ‘cool’ it was. Mai commented on how backwards the circus must be, to the point that they never bothered to use a train as means of transport. Ty Lee laughed as she recalled how she had to pack her tent every time they would re-locate, a statement which left Mai speechless.

    “How do you even pack a tent?” she asked.

Ty Lee placed a hand on her chin. “Well, it’s not that hard, especially since mine wasn’t that big.”

      “How did you live like that for three years?”

Ty Lee scratched the back of her head, she hummed. “I never really thought about it, honestly. I was happy, and that’s all that mattered to me.”

    “So, you’re fine with anything as long as it makes you happy?”

The brunette hummed once more. “Well, I wouldn’t say anything, but yeah, basically.”

Mai pursed her lips. “Right.”

Their conversation moved on to another topic, one which concerned what interesting happenings have been going on in their lives. And keeping with such a theme, Ty Lee had one burning question to ask her friend. She leaned in, a grin stuck onto her face, one which granted a rather concerned look from Mai. Though, the brunette couldn’t help that she was curios, any sane person with a working pair of eye balls would want to prove their suspicions correct.

    “You still haven’t told me about Zuko,” Ty Lee’s words came out in a frantic haste, each syllable laced with intrigue.

Mai rolled her eyes. “Why do you care?”

Ty Lee’s grin persisted. “I think you know why.”

The girl sighed, stoking the burning interest within Ty Lee’s psyche. Whereas before she held a mere sense of curiosity, now she was rivetted, compelled to find out more of her friend’s love life. Of course, she knew that it wasn’t quite nice to put one’s nose where it didn’t belong. But Ty Lee figured that they were close enough to speak of such things with each other, without a need for shame at that. And if Mai required a little shove to fess up, Ty Lee was more than happy to oblige.

      “Come on, come on, come on. Tell me, tell me, I know you want to tell me,” Ty Lee repeated those words like a chant, one which could grant her the wish she so desired.

     “Fine. What do you want to know?” Mai growled.

Ty Lee clasped her hands together as she made incomprehensible noises. Her feet stomped the metal floor multiple times as her mind raced to search for what to say, and which topic she’d delve into. Amidst her squealing, Ty Lee managed to cherry pick a subject. One so influential, that to not learn its truth would rob her of the fulfilling life she so desperately desired. That being Mai and Zuko’s relationship status.

    “Are you and Zuko together yet?” she asked through bated breath.

Mai took in a breath. “Yes, we are. There, I told you, now stop talking.”

Again, Ty Lee squealed in excitement. A giddiness came from her stomach and made its way through her entire body, coursing through her veins like some type of drug she’s never heard of. Like a child after receiving candy, she couldn’t be bothered to lay still. Her feet continued to stomp on the floor, her arms fidgeting on her side, grin molded onto the girls now sore cheeks. She leaned in, eyes twinkled as she was obligated to learn more. She needed to, she had to.

      “And? How is it like?” she asked.

      “How should I know? We haven’t even met in person.”

Ty Lee pouted. “Aw, come on, Mai. You’ve been writing, right? Can you at least tell me about that?”

Mai sighed. “This is the last question.”

The brunette nodded with a fervent enthusiasm. “Yes, totally. Just tell me already, please, I’m dying.”

Again, Mai sighed. “We’ve been talking about what to do when I get back. But whenever I give him an idea, he always tells me to visit some tea shop instead.”

      “Why a tea shop?” Ty Lee queried.

      “Didn’t I tell you that was the last question?”

Before Ty Lee could say anything, a sharp voice cut through their conversation.

      “No, do tell, why would he want the both of you to visit a tea shop?” Azula asked.

Mai’s eyes widened for a split second, taken aback by the sudden intrusion. “I don’t know, he keeps telling me that the tea there reminded him of his uncle or something.”

The princess quirked up a brow. “I see. Well, that certainly does sound interesting.”

    “Seriously? What’s so fun about going to a tea shop anyways? You just sit down, drink tea and leave,” Mai said in a slight huff.

Ty Lee quirked up a brow. Her friend was right, there wasn’t much to do in a tea shop. However, she figured that the purpose of such an establishment was not only limited to selling tea.

     “I don’t think that’s it,” she said, “Yeah sure, you drink and stuff. But since Zuko and you will be going on a date, you’ll also talk. And I mean, that can be fun too.”

Mai rolled her eyes, though Ty Lee was reluctant to believe that her friend brushed off the idea with such ease.

And so, their conversation went on, with minimal to no interruptions from Azula. They spoke of what Ty Lee should do once they reached the mainland, the brunette approximating how much progress she’s yet to see in the three years she was gone. Mai shrugged, noting that though much has changed in terms of technological development and city planning, the people were still the same.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Mai expressed her desire to leave for another cart. She commented on how dull the inside looked, as if someone had taken the interior planning of an office and slathered it all over their cart. Ty Lee questioned how that was a bad thing, adding that it must be some type of innovation, at least in terms of train interior design.

     “Ty Lee, it’s a train. Train’s aren’t supposed to look like offices,” Mai said.

Ty Lee shrugged. “Why not?”

      “Whatever, my point is this cart is boring.”

Azula cut in. “And do you expect the other carts to be exciting? Compared to the others, our cart is far superior. It even has comfortable seating and an efficient cooling unit.”

Mai pointed towards the cabinet next to Azula. “Oh please, how is that superior?”

The princess quirked up a brow. “This cabinet is filled with many interesting scrolls to read, perfect for killing time till we reach Kerkaw.”

The girl blinked a few times. “Right, and what sort of interesting scrolls are inside that cabinet?”

      “That depends, what do you like to read?” Azula asked.

      “I don’t like reading,” the girl said, a blank look on her face.

Azula scoffed. “Well, too bad. I suppose you’ll have to find something else to do till we get there.”

      “I will.” Mai turned around and left.

With nobody but the two of them, Ty Lee inched closer to the princess, who’s eyes meticulously scanned through the text. She came so close that no space was between them, the princess paying no mind. Ty Lee pursed her lips as she wondered what Azula was reading, and if it were something far beyond her realm of comprehension. Though, even if it were, she wouldn’t mind having the princess explain at length the many intricacies of the text.

She asked Azula what it was that had captured her attention for much of the ride. The princess eyes attention on the paper; she spoke in a low voice. “Something.”

Ty Lee frowned. She slid closer once more, to snatch a glimpse of what Azula had been reading. Much to her surprise, she found that the text bore a story she was quite familiar with. One which told of a passionate summer between star-crossed lovers, and one that had piqued her interest so that it became Ty Lee’s favorite scroll to read. That is to say, if she had even bothered to read any scrolls for the past few months.

     “I thought you didn’t like romance,” she said.

The princess’s attention didn’t stray. “I don’t.”

Ty Lee furrowed her brows. “So, why are you reading that then?”

     “It was a whim,” Azula said.

Ty Lee quirked up a brow. “Right, totally. Where did you even get that?”

     “I bought it in Ba Sing Se. Though the subject matter itself taboo, there is no legal ban. And even if there was, I doubt they would’ve been able to enforce it,” Azula said.

Ty Lee tilted her head, bewildered by the princess’s sudden change of heart. “Yeah, and I’m supposed to believe that you don’t hate romance all of a sudden?”

     “What else do you want me to tell you?” Azula asked, “I’ve given you the truth, yet you don’t believe me. Do you, perhaps, want me to lie?”

The brunette rested her head on Azula’s shoulder, her thin fingers ran down her lover’s back. “I never said that.”

      “My point stands. If you don’t believe the truth, what do you want me to do?” Azula asked.

Ty Lee paused for a moment as her mind came up with the right words to form her next few sentences. As she remained silent, her hand continued to run up and down Azula’s back. She hummed, both from her lover’s warmth and through force of habit. Her psyche raced past the many possible questions and statements for her to say, Ty Lee at one point lost on how the conversation even started. By the end, she settled for a simple reply.

     “I mean. No, I don’t want that. It’s just, I kinda find it hard to believe that you can tolerate it now,” she said.

Azula closed the text, Ty Lee eyes wandered up as they were met with a fierce stare. The princess leaned in, their face mere inches apart.

      “Would you like to know?” The princess asked.

Ty Lee nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Read the rest of it here ;) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28172334/chapters/70425006

#tyzula #ty lee #azula #azula x ty lee #princess azula #avatar: tla #Avatar The Last Airbender #arguing about books #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #i wrote this instead of doing my homework

[norafike]

Despite all this, I still love you 26

“Got anythin' coming up, Nora?” Cripps lurked outside the tent with a small smile, he could see her through the crack in the tent, lying on her cot and sulking the hours away just as she had done these past few days. “Any jobs or such?”

“No.”

“Well, surely there is something you can do… why not help your brothers out on a job?” It was a simple suggestion but the thought alone caused her to groan loudly, it wasn't that a job scared her but working with her brothers was a nightmare.

Nora pushed herself from the cot, pulled the tent flaps aside and gave Cripps a stern glare. “I don't know if you've met Harry an' James, but working with them is stressful.”

“I know but it gives you something to do… but you look awful.”

“Point out the obvious, I feel awful so please let me be.” She tried to close the tent flaps again to shield herself away from the others but Cripps wouldn't let her this time and held it open, just to keep talking.

“You got to do something to keep occupied, Nora.” He tried pleading but this was only another excuse to keep her from moping about camp and bothering him.

“I'm keepin' myself occupied plenty.” She said, rather bluntly.

“How the hell are you keeping occupied while holed up in here? There's not a lot to do.” His question was simple but it caused Nora's face to turn a shade of red and when she failed to come up with a response he realised just what she implied. “Oh, I really didn't want that image.”

“You asked.”

“Not that, oh christ… look, for that alone I want you to help them with a bounty for my sake, please.”

“Shouldn't have asked questions, JB.” She let out a long sigh. “Just give me a minute and I'll go with them. Make sure they don't leave without me.”

“Thank god.” Cripps trotted off with a gleeful expression and she rolled her eyes at his mock joy before concealing herself in the tent to get dressed in cleaner clothes in private.

...

“She still has that bounty huntin' passion, I see!” Harry exclaimed once he saw her exit her tent, dressed in the same old clothes she would used to wear on their old jobs. She grinned all the same, firmly patting Casper's neck.

“So who we going after boys?” James dug into his satchel and pulled free a poster he had taken from a bounty board, handing it over for her to analyse herself. She narrowed her eyes to read the print and drew out a shuddered breath, oh she had heard this name before.

“Gene again?” James nodded to answer her question.

“We turned in him last year, how did he get out?” Nora continued her questions but the boys didn't mind and they were all able to talk while riding. She followed behind them, they knew the way to this outlaws new location better than she did.

“Apparently some friends thought it'd be a good idea to cut him loose. Killed about half the lawmen in town unfortunately and he got away, couldn't stay low for too long and already started the same old crimes once again. Wasn't long before we caught up with him.”

“They never learn.”

“Yes well, we ain't ones to judge them on their criminal ways.”

Nora laughed lightly. “Oh, I know this, brother.” With that said they rode out in comfortable silence, picking up speed on their adventure to get to this new spot quicker than what a small trot would take them.

Gene Finley never did travel far from Lemoyne it seemed and given that the Van Der Linde gang were now occupying Shady Belle it wasn't like he could drive them out and take it back himself, no, that would get him killed for sure. So instead he settled for the next best thing, what had been left of Braithwaite manor; now reduced to an ashy ruin.

Nora expected there to be some people left but the place was practically abandoned now that there was no Braithwaite's to be left, it didn't surprise her in the slightest and was almost nice to see the area empty instead of infested with those same parasites that lurked there before. Oh, how she hated the Braithwaite's since her run-in with them.

“Can't believe he chose that old shit dump as a new gang location. The place ain't gonna help 'em.”

“It's smart because ain't nobody there no more.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true.” She spurred for Casper to go faster and she ended up taking over Harry who let out a splutter of curses that he was now trailing behind.

...

Nora's Hungarian halfbred stopped just short of Braithwaite manor, bucking wildly now that they were so close to the ruins of the old house. Nora struggled to dismount but she didn't wish to be thrown off of the horse because it had been spooked by unknown forces, perhaps the ghosts of the Braithwaite's were what had Casper in such a frenzy.

“Ain't never seen Casper so startled,” James called out, hitching his horse just near with Harry copying soon after. She nodded too, it being quite peculiar for the beloved stallion to act up in such away.

“He'll be fine. Probably got startled by a snake.” She excused on his behalf before passing him an apple, cautiously reaching for his mouth. Her brothers watched with a smirk painted on their faces but they dropped it slowly as Nora managed to calm the animal, both sharing an astonished expression at how in control of her animal they didn't believe she actually was. “Right, let's go grab Gene "Beau" Finley, shall we?”

...

Nora crouched down behind one of the old pillars that decorated the exterior of the house, keeping her rifle ready while she watched some guards, as she presumed them to be, march back and forth the ruins. A couple of times Nora, as well as her brothers, were close to being caught but they managed to hide themselves just enough to not be seen.

“Harry.” She whisper-shouted to call him and he crept closer just as instructed.

“What?”

She pointed towards her left, giving him a firm stare. “You and James head that way, Gene's down there if you notice… we can cut him off from those sides, he can't go anywhere else from there.”

“Well, he can go West but whatever.”

“Into the fields. There's not a lot there beside a few crops. A lot of it's died out by now, not been looked after since, well, this assault on the manor.”

“Yeah.” He pulled his sawed-off shotgun from its holster and with a subtle flick, beckoned James to come over. He whispered to his brother a “come on,” before disappearing with him behind the rubble.

She pushed herself off of the pillar and followed along the porch, cursing silently when the boards would occasionally creak beneath her weight. Eventually, Nora had managed to move closer towards the bounty in question and quickly hid behind one of the walls and listened closely for any plans the group may have coming up; in case the opportunity for a bank robbery was to present itself then maybe she could drag the boys out on that too.

On the other end of the garden, Harry and James had split up to cover different parts around the land feeling that sticking together wasn't going to be beneficial in any way. Their sister probably wouldn't be happy with this branch from their original plan but that was an argument saved for later, their new one was significantly better.

They waited for no signal, once everyone was in their eyesight they aimed their guns and began shooting. Careful to avoid their target as they fancied being paid in full but also showing no mercy for anyone else who had associated themselves with Gene, it was strictly business what they were doing.

Nora swore loudly at the bullets flying around. In the moment she was worried about her brothers and poked her head just above the wall in time to see Harry and that stupid yellow coat run straight into the group so he could grab the bounty and in a short time, James trailed behind him providing cover fire. She sank back down and leaned her head back, wondering what possessed her to think this was a good idea. Nora worried but at the same time, she was pissed.

“You boys are so reckless, aye!” Nora cried as she jumped from her hiding spot, taking her revolver from the holster and aiming from the hip at some men who ran past.

“Testin' you to see if you still had what it takes to fight,” Harry called back, tackling a guard to the ground and punching him a couple of times to save him from being shot.

She rolled her eyes at the reply before shouting back “I do, it's called common sense,” something that he didn't look too pleased with hearing.

“Really funny.” He said back. She looked his way with a smile but it dropped when she saw him collapse to the floor with blood staining the bright yellow of his coat, she looked back at James worried who hadn't even noticed his own twin fall to the floor.

“Focus on Harry, I can handle the rest of them!” James called out and quickly she rushed to her brothers' side, already fearing the worst.

He was rolling around in agony but was very much alive and that was relief enough that she hadn't lost her younger brother. She gently slapped his other arm and scolded him for his recklessness before helping to move him to a safer location where he wasn't lying directly in their small battlefield.

“He's alive... but I swear I'm gonna kill him.” She told James who looked over-worried.

One guy was left but seeing as all the other hired bodyguards had been killed he opted for the best alternative and that was to flee the scene. He didn't make it very far, as Nora was tired of fighting today and wanted them all down to guarantee that they could return Gene to his cell, so she raised her gun and fired a bullet into his back and then another to make sure.

Gene "Beau" Finley coward in the remains of Braithwaite manor but slowly crept out towards the siblings, his hands raised high in defense. He would still laugh at the same time, impressed with how effortlessly it seemed they had dealt with the situation but there was no joke behind it.

“You three are good.” He complimented. Nora shot James a look and he nodded at the silent instruction, taking his lasso out and hogtying the bounty without a second thought.

Nora walked over to her other brother and took his arm over her shoulders, pulling him to his feet. He groaned at the pain that flared up and she made a small comment about understanding it, feeling almost sorry for him as she did so but he didn't hear what she said. “James., Nora called.

“What?”

“Think you can take Gene to Rhodes? I think Harry shouldn't dawdle around much longer.” James nodded to answer as he carried the target over towards his horse and when he was gone she turned towards Harry with a frown.

“This is what happens when you do things with no plan, Harold.” She said calmly. Her brother mumbled something but she didn't hear what he had said, knowing him though it was probably some sarcastic remark about how her plan was stupid anyway.

She whistled for Casper and he did the same for his Annabelle.

When the horses were near she helped Harry onto the rump of Casper before she mounted the horse herself. He still seemed very agitated by being at Braithwaite manor but it took a few firm pats and he had calmed some, now she just needed to get him far from the ruins.

...

“Cripps!” Nora shouted, her voice sounding a little shaky while she did so. It took him a minute but he sauntered on over with a sheepish smile plastered on his face. It dropped however, when he noticed the state her brother had returned in.

“What the hell happened?” His question was worthless, he could see as clear as day what had happened and there weren't any other explanations otherwise.

“Jus' help me get him to his tent.” She mumbled and he nodded slowly, helping him off of the horse and onto his feet. He didn't wait for Nora and was more adamant about getting him to the cot to take a look at the damage, assess just how bad it could be.

“Think you got this, Cripps?” She asked him once she made it to Harry's tent.

Cripps nodded slowly as he had him peel away the bloodied coat and shirt. “Yeah, ain't nothing too serious luckily.”

“Well, let's hope it teaches you a lesson Harold.” She said, although it was more of a joke than a warning.

With the sun setting and the tent getting darker, Cripps lit a lantern so he could see better while he worked on bandaging the wound and once she was certain that her brother was left in safe hands she left them to themselves.

Her tent was farther away and while she got closer she could hear the idle chatter from the two fade out until it was nothing but a dull murmur in the distance.

She pulled the flap aside so she could walk in but stopped herself when she heard a rustle in the bushes nearby. She thought it was an animal and so waited, expecting a fox or a bunny to jump out and attempt to help itself to the group's food… but the more the rustling got closer the more a shape could be made out amidst the shadows and trees and it was far too big to belong to a small woodland creature.

It groaned with every step taken and she pulled her revolver free from the holster, raising it with caution while this shape moved closer towards her.

Nora took a few steps back while it drew closer and she aimed her gun with a steady hand, ready to shoot if need be. Eventually, the shape stepped into the light and she could see the bloody remains of a man who was just barely alive, grasping onto his breath with what he had left.

She took in his face and the recognition kicked in, from the same scared look and “puppy dog eyes”. There was no greeting between them before his legs gave way and he collapsed forward, but she was able to react just in time and catch him before he hit the floor.

She picked him up as best as he could, cursing out loud with the question of where James could be to help them.

She got him stable before looking back over towards the boy's tents, shouting over the quiet. “Cripps…! Cripps, it's Kieran!”

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdo #rdo fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead online #lemuel fike x nora morgan #JB Cripps #Kieran Duffy #gene beau finley

[edengate5]

She Wolf 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

There is no way, no how I am doing this! We really don't need the radio waves, do we? Ugh! Fuck, we do. I need to do this. It is just a few ladders up, to get the switch on. This would help Dutch out, get him in touch with people who would eventually help me out.

"You sure I can't persuade you to go up instead, Jim bo," I ask, looking at the high reaching radio tower. After our lunch, we take a small hike down to the radio tower, destroying another shrine on our way here. I thought the switch would be in the office, but nope. Dutch informs me, its on the tower. High above. At the tippy top. Fuck me.

"You got money to pay me, Deputy? I know you save me and all, but there are somethings that aren't free," Jim said, refusing to help little old me. I scoff in annoyance. I hate heights. I really hate heights. I hate flying too. Shayna was surprise to hear that I drove for hours on end just to get here. There is no force on this earth that's going to make me get on an airplane. Well maybe my job, but nothing else.

I sigh, knowing I am losing time here. I salute Jim.

"It's been nice knowing you, Jim. I know you need to get back to your family," I inform him, since he is not going up this thing. He nods and says his goodbyes. I thank him for helping me with the station and another shrine we just hit.

"You got this. One step at a time," I mumble to myself as I go up the ladder. Once I hit a platform, I crawl to the ladder and slowly get up. The first platform is okay for me, but once I hit the second platform, fear made me its prey. I didn't want to do this. My fingers grab onto the grate of the platform, trembling at how high I am. This is too far high. I might fall and break my neck, or worse. DEATH!

I let a whimpering, closing my eyes. Creaking trees and the breeze, my nerves are on high alert. This is completely bull shit. Come on, Rhea. Get angry! You need to hurry up, but this pep talk is not helping.

"Hey, Rook. I know what you're thinking and no I ain't gonna have you climbing towers all over the county for me, so don't worry…..also try not to fall from up there."

I choke on a sob, not wanting to be there at all.I wipe my tears away and look up. I have one more platform to go. I can do this. I let go of the grate of my death grip and pull myself up with the ladder. One step at a time.

Four.

  Oh Shit! It's moving. ITS MOVING!

    Three.

  Two…...One. Finally, I reach the lever, my body shaking as if I'm walking on a wobbly bridge. I hear it turn on, hopefully Dutch has -

"Hey Deputy. I'm getting a stronger signal now. Head back to the bunker. The fog should be clearing soon by tomorrow, which means we can get you off this island and start helping people in Hope County," Dutch radios in. Clutching to the wires and not caring how dangerous it is, I un-clip my radio and respond to him. It would be dark soon, so it is better to head back and start early tomorrow.

"Deputy here. Coming back asap," I said, getting down from there. I take my time getting down, before jumping the last two steps. Never again! I really don't like heights. I look around the tower, hoping to loot somethings. I find nothing and make my way towards the bunker.

"Oh shit...Deputy, get here fast. I'm pickin' up something new outta Holland Valley. It's a broadcast from John...You need to see this." Dutch said, worrying me. This can't be good. It's probably some sick thing of getting the sinner and protecting Eden's gate thing.

Walking down the path, I don't rush to the bunk. I have little food in my stomach to go wasting one end of the island. I past the station, seeing the civilians, cleaning up the place. I wave at them, going on my merry way. They wave back before going out of sight.

I hope everything would fall into place. Wishful thinking, I know it's going to be nothing but hell for me. When I get my hands on Joseph, I'm going to tear him apart. He should know his place.

Nearing the bunker, I smell around, seeing if someone is following me. Just in case, they knew about the cameras around here. I try to open the door, seeing it is open. I bet Dutch knew I was close by. I close and lock it behind me, before descending down. I already know Dutch would be in his red room, gathering information. I enter it, setting my bag on the table. Dutch is writing down something before putting it on the board. He looks at me with pity?

"Take a seat, Deputy," Dutch said, showing me the way. My eyebrows furrow. What's going on? I take a seat and he raise the volume up to this broadcast.

At first, it was static coming through before it starts. It is a very close up of someone wearing a blue pattern shirt. They turn around and its John 's picture of him did not do him justice. What strikes me the most are his baby blue eyes, reminding me of blue jays flying around winter. What a handsome guy he is. For a moment, I thought he and I could talk this out.

"We are all sinners. Every one of us."

Welp. There goes that plan. He fuck it up by opening his mouth. I mean he is a good looking guy, but horrible personality I can tell. I mean what is with his broadcast. It's like a late night infomercial during Toonami. Not important and lame. Oh god it even has background music.

"You. Me. Even the Father knows deeply of sin. It's a poison that clouds the mind,"

…...Fuck he is good.I need to be careful with this one. Unlike his brother Joseph, John hasn't lost his sanity just yet. His morals maybe. He is a bitch. A smart bitch, who uses the system to hijack that child's support money from the baby daddy.

"What if I told you, you can be free of sin? What if I told you that everything you ever dreamed could come true? What if I told you that everything could be overcome if you embrace an idea,"

John is selling everything and giving me used car salesman tactics realness up in here. I mean this is pretty good for being amateur productions. Hell even the homeless looking Peggies are selling it. The camera gives me another angle and I get a glimpse of my partner. Joey Hudson. Tied up and duct taped.

I grip onto the arms of the chair, and really study this broadcast, learning who is there, hopefully where it is, how does John acts and anything Joey might give me.

"Come on partner. Give me some Morse code. Anything," I whisper out loud.

"That freedom from sin can come from the power of just one word…" John raises his hands, the camera panning out to the word YES. People were clapping and cheering or is it a recording? My gasp as not only Hudson was brought out, but my sister. My poor, out of it sister.

Both of them look like they were drag through the mud, and the fear etching itself onto their face. Hudson looks like she put up some fight until she couldn't fight anymore. Her mascara running as if she was crying for hours on end. Sigh…..I told her to buy the waterproof one, but noooooo she had to go cheap.

My sister seams out of it. Like a twink of the deep end. Her head has bandages around it, blood staining it. Black hair sticking out like a madwoman, and her hazel eyes out of focus. Her skin looks like an ashy brown color. She can barely walk let alone stand by herself. A head injury, which explains the cut off connections. I let out a sigh of relief though. They look like their injuries are being taken care of. For now.

"Yes, I am a sinner. Yes I wish to be unburdened. Yes...I must be redeemed. If you are watching this, know that you have been selected. You will be cleansed. You will confess your sins, and you will be offered atonement."

"Sick fuck," Dutch harshly whispers, stepping away. He starts to pace around the room while I watch the rest.

"Don't worry you don't have to do anything. We'll come for you...Welcome to Eden's Gate."

I have a death grip on the chair, watching my helpless sister like that. John Seed. You really fuck with the wrong family. I decided to go after him as I see him close his hands around my sister's neck.

"Sorry, Dep. It seems that John has your partner and your little sister," he said. I let out a small laugh. A lot of people confuse me as the big sister because of our size.

"John Seed has my big sister, Dutch. Tomorrow, I will give him my answer. I'm going to burn his whole operation to the ground, then I'm going to kill him like the animal he is," I snarl at the end. Dutch doesn't say anything, doesn't show any emotion at all.

I take a few breaths in and out. My whole body just wants to run out there and save my Beta. My sister, but I know better. I need to plan it out. The T.V goes back to the commercial again. This is the only thing I have into getting information on him. Slowly, I start to grin, a smile covering half of my face.

"This is perfect!" I exclaim, holding the T.V for a bit. I look at Dutch and he is confused like a teen girl with her period for the first time.

"I need paper and something to write," I ask of him. He goes over to a drawer and gives me the stuff I need. I go back on the chair, sitting Indian style and watching the broadcast over and over again.

"You aren't going to watch this over and-"

"Yes. Don't you see!. With this, I can see how he acts, what he wants everyone to believe in, his mannerism. This broadcast will ruin him. With my B.A in Criminology and Masters in Psychology, I am going to analyze this to the minuscule of details," I said, not letting my eyes leave the screen. Dutch mutters something and leaves me here.

With every rerun, I write something done, writing everything that comes to mind. Ignoring Dutch, I continue to watch this over and over again.

Dutch left for a while, probably to relax and away from hearing John's voice over and over again. He comes in with some type of soup and crackers at first. I devour it, not tasting how bland it is.

I quickly write down more as I look around the background of the video. The Peggies seem new, not used to carrying a gun. Some of them even have their fingers on the trigger, which means they don't have training in gun's safety. Hell their stance are shit too. Now, I'm only focusing on him and him alone.

Dutch sets another meal in front of me. This time fish with some canned peas and corn.

"I think that's enough, Deputy. It's already ten p.m. Take a rest and start fresh tomorrow," Dutch kindly said to me. I go over and lower the volume to silence the broadcast and deeply sigh. He is right. I need a long deep sleep to get my body it's time to fully rest.

"Yea. I'll head to one of the spare cots you have and thank you for the meal. Is it okay to bounce off ideas, Dutch? I have some theories," I mumble the last part. I brush my hair back behind my ear to see his surprises.

"Sure. Lay it on me," he said, taking a crate to sit on. I stretch my legs, getting the flow of blood in them before taking my list from the desk.

"So I notice some things: One: His Peggies do not have any gun training. Two: He was an abused victim or has a kink with self mutilation. I see that he had a scar on his chest with blood still visibly there. Which leads me to believe to Three:" I rant, stopping to put some food in my mouth. I wipe my mouth to continue.

"Three: He gets off with hurting people, playing with people's lives and being the one to save them like his brother save him," I ended with that. I look up to see that Dutch is impress with my find.

"And ya find that all with just his broadcast. While I be damn, we might have hope to take back the whole county," Dutch compliments me. I flip my hair back and relish in the praise.

"Aww thanks. I'm still paying those student loans though," I said, reminding myself about how much in debt I'm already in. Dutch lets out a chuckle.

"Well, when this is over, I will personally help you out-"

"It's about 98,600 dollars loan, Dutch" I cut him off. His jaw drops and curses.

"Yep, but look at the uses of those degrees. Taking out a cult in Montana,saving people lives and shit," I said, finishing my meal.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dutch," I said, picking up my plate. He says his goodnight and I place the dirty plate in the sink. I'll clean up tomorrow. I head to the room with the bunk beds in them. I take off my shoes and just lay on it. I finally know where my sister is. Soon, Shayna. I'm coming for you. Soon, I'll change and rip his throat out and paint the walls red with his blood. He will see the monster we truly are and we shall devour him.

#john seed #far cry 5 #far cry deputy #jacob x deputy #faith x deputy #werewolf deputy #john seed x deputy #jacob seed #jacob seed x deputy #faith seed

[captainderyn]

Of Sun and Moon-Preview #2

I almost have the first chunk of this done, I figured I’d share it since Thieving is still at a standstill and I’ve been posting a lot of short prompts lately. 

*KotFE spoilers*

The alarms of Darth Marr’s flagship wailed in Emeldir’s ears, pushing away coherent thought in a swirl of shrill shrieks and the crunching of metal failing under fire. He slammed into the control board, the one thing that could potentially salvage the ship’s power, and took to the buttons and levers with a fevered intensity. Marr’s looming presence take to the parts he couldn’t reach. “The power core is strained.” There was a loud crash as another barraging attack slammed into the Destroyer. He slammed his hand against the warm metal of the over heating controls, biting back a curse. Time was quickly running out, time they needed to get the vessel back online and fast. “We can recharge the shields, but they aren’t going to do much good.”

Muffled voices blurred in his ear, the earpiece the only connection he had left unsevered to both his crew and fellow captain. If he could get these shields reset, if they could escape, if, if, if. Only ifs. The static of a sudden holo transmission from the bridge refocused him on the rapidly crumbling ship and he continued to work quickly even as the soldiers on the bridge all shouted.

Enemies are on the bridge, enemies-

It cut off with with the roar of blasters firing and Emeldir and Marr shared a look. He couldn’t see the sith lord’s expression beneath his mask and he desperately wished he could find some sliver of the fear coursing through his own veins. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like he was working alone.

“There are basic back-up controls.” Marr rumbled, pausing to rest his hands on the edge of the control board.”But the enemy has us surrounded and our options are limited.” There it was, the quiet resignation in his voice. He felt his stomach plummet, resignation could only mean one thing, one fate waiting to meet them.

“If this is the end of the line for me then I’m saving as many lives as I can before it’s lights out.” The shaking in his hands had stilled, replaced by a cold numbness and his fingers skimmed over levers and buttons until he found the one that could broadcast his voice over the entire ship. “Listen up! The enemy has us surrounded, shields are failing. Evacuate now while you  can.”

The ship was failing, its final breaths spent dispelling its inhabitants. With an enormous roar metal siding crashed to the floor, bringing tubing and wiring down with it in flames. Their exit was gone. They were trapped.

Emeldir lifted his hand from the button, dropping it back onto the metal with a rattling breath.  This wasn’t how he had wanted it to end.

“So be it.” Marr murmured, clasping his hands behind his back and standing tall, facing the collapsing interior of the ship like a stoic statue. The flames reflected red and gold off his mask, the destruction shown clearly as in a mirror.

“Emeldir what’s going on?” Risha’s panicked voice crackled through his earpiece, the sound grainy and quiet from the damage it had already received. In the background he could hear captain Taqq as well, unintelligible words in the catastrophically loud ship. The rush of air pushed back from another strip of metal plating collapsed. “Deryn c’mon answer me!” His hand paused by his ear, hesitating for a moment before he removed the earpiece and bowed his head, squeezing the small device in his fist until he felt the small pieces break. His eyes followed the broken bits as they tumbled to the floor from his palm. Their goodbyes had already been said with the reassurance that he would return, the only lie he had told that he wouldn’t be able to make up for. But this, the last moments of an Imperial war vessel was not something his crew or Risha needed to hear. They did not need to hear the the fear stealing his breath as he locked his hands behind his back in a mimic of Marr’s stance.

Marr was silent, facing death like it an old friend. Emeldir’s crew did not need to hear the soft, shaky words of an old Coruscati lullaby he remembered from troubling nights and his father’s soothing voice when he was a child. The words had been a comfort when his world had been on fire once before, when the Empire had laid waste to his homeworld. The smoke swirling around him, choking his lungs and raking its ashy fingers through his hair was so similar...but now there was no escape, no savior fleet to sweep in with rescue and supplies. No hero to come in promising everything would be okay, that it was safe now. Not this time, not when he was supposed to be the hero in this story, the one giving the comfort instead of receiving it.

Familiar words fell swiftly from his lips, his voice and hammering heartbeat racing to block out the sudden roar of a hundred turrets firing at once and the thundering rumble that shook the entire ship. The final siege snapped the flagship, it’s last groaning cry accompanied by the snap of it’s metal bones and the flames turning everything brilliant with white, red and gold even behind Emeldir’s tightly closed eyelids.

In the unexplored depths of Wild Space an Imperial warship splintered, bleeding flame. An indomitable fleet was the only witness to it’s last struggling moments, the only witness to its glorious death, silent among the stars.

---

Time was fluid as Emeldir floated in the blackness behind his eyelids. A moment felt like an eternity but the three days it took for sensation to return to Emeldir felt like only a few seconds. Sensation returned slowly to him, first in the sensations of cool filtered air and icy sheets beneath his back. The steady beeping of machines and the low hum of an engine came next, weaving through his languid thoughts and lulling him back into the memories of home, his ship sailing among the stars that shone with endless possibility.

Vision returned next in a violent burst, assaulting his eyes with pristine white and the blinding intensity of fluorescent lights.  

This wasn't home, screamed his scattered thoughts. Home is warm and comfort, safety and protection.

This, this was a cruel mockery being made of his sacrifice. As he was slowly able to gather his frayed mind and sit up he found his hands cuffed together in a position that had cramped his arms and left his shoulders screaming. No, this wasn't what his sacrifice has been made for. He had given his life so that others could continue on. Each breath he took here was proof he was alive, proof that he must have failed.

“You are awake, good.”

His panicked eyes slowly drifted up from the metal bindings crushing his hands together at the wrist to the man that had suddenly filled the doorway. The white of his robes blended seamlessly into the sterile room around him, drawing Emeldir’s look directly to the gleaming orange of the man’s eyes, burning like the flames that had torn across his eyelids moments before he had fallen into nothingness. “I trust you can walk?”

This man’s voice was mechanic, distorted by the half mask he wore. Emeldir suppressed a shudder and fixed his eyes on the wall behind the man, jaw set. “I can do more than walk.” he snapped, voice wavering. His eyes fell from the wall to the mirthless eyes of the man shrouded in white, then to the floor.

“Walk with me.” The man pivoted, glancing over his shoulder as two guards took either one of Emeldir’s arms, just above his elbows, and hauled him to his feet. Emeldir grunted, stumbling as his legs protested the sudden weight. The weight of two blasters pressed close to the small of his back pushed him along just a few steps behind the man in white. At the end of the hall towered Marr, when he spoke it was in the same measured tone that had accepted their end on the Destroyer.

“What empire have we entered?”

The man strode forward several paces, deliberately drawing out the silence until he faced them again with his hands folded neatly in front of him. “I am the one that will ask the questions, you will be the ones providing the answers.”

“We will tell you nothing.” Marr growled with nothing more than a single look shared between he and the smuggler. It was enough, they would not break easily,

“Oh you won’t need to speak to give me the answers I need.”

The thinly veiled threat sent a shiver down Emeldir’s spine and his fingers twitched for the protection of a weapon. But there would be no weapons, there would be no fight. He was at the mercy of this masked man, with defiance as his final stand and shield.

--

It wasn’t until an automated voice spoke from the cockpit of their shuttle that he learned the man’s name. Prince Arcann, final docking sequences initiated.

Prince Arcann. The name was not familiar to Emeldir, not from any textbook he had ever read or any noble family he had encountered. With his back to the interior of the shuttle, his face turned out the window towards the stars as they made the jump from hyperspace, he realized they weren’t in any space he had known before. They were lost and no one would find them.  

Each step down the hallway felt leaden, with each fall of his foot on the floor a heavier sense of dread seemed to wrap tighter around his heart. His eyes were fixed, unseeing on the floor in front of him, each movement stiff and robotic even as his thoughts raged and thundered like a storm. What would happen to them, how he could escape, where they were, who they were with. His mind could not give him answers, only scraps of ideas and slowly building panic.

“We recovered records from your ship’s computers, or what was left of them. Facinating reading.” His heart skittered and he gasped out a breath like he had been punched in the gut. They couldn’t have destroyed the Phoenix, his ship couldn’t be gone. That would mean his crew was…

Eyes refocusing into silver daggers he glared up at Arcann only to find him looking at Marr. A second, halting breath was forced out at the realization the records from the Destroyer had been found instead of his own ship’s. There was still a chance his crew was out there, still a chance they were safe and far, far away from him. The sudden movement drew Arcann’s attention to him and the procession halted.

“And you,” Emeldir’s glare was met with an unreadable emotion caught between neutrality and amusement. “You’re just one person-a criminal from what I can tell. Yet you still managed to influence a galaxy wide war. I’m impressed.”

Instinctively he pulled at his restraints, stepping into Arcann’s space until he was yanked back by guards. “Then you’ve acquainted yourself with my reputation?” His voice dropped to a growl. “Loosen these restraints and I’ll remind you. With a blaster bolt between your eyes-” A swift jab with the end of a blaster rifle to the back of his legs ended his threat, bucking his knees and dropping him to the floor in a mockery of a bow. Arcann’s stare bore into the top of his bowed head, a low laugh following as the fight was forced from Emeldir by the press of two blaster rifles between his shoulders.

He remained pushed to the floor, knees beginning to smart against the hard tile as another figure strode down the hallway towards them, black and gold robes swishing around his feet. The conversation was hushed enough that Emeldir could only grab every other word until the prince’s voice rose. A smirk pulled at his lips.

“It seems like you’re followers aren’t as convinced about you’re invincibility as you are.” A swift cuff on his head followed and he hissed out a swear, ducking his head further as Marr’s voice mixed with the ringing in his ears.

“Is this why you brought us here, to bicker with your soothsayers?”

“Enough.” The feet moved from Emeldir’s vision and he was roughly pulled to his feet, shoved forward until he nearly fell. Marr’s shoulder caught his, mask unreadable as ever.

“You’re taking us to your master.”

“I am taking you to my father, Valkorian.” Arcann spat over his shoulder, motioning for the guards to push them along. Always two steps behind. “The Immortal Emperor of Zakuul.”

“Ah, an emperor. Just what we were searching for.” Marr’s voice was a satisfied murmur just behind Emeldir as they were brought to the gilded doors of a lift. The two men shared a final, knowing look before they were shepherded in. Arcann stepped in just after them, golden light of the lift fading into the shadow of his mask as the doors closed.

“You will not find what you wanted here.”

--

The throne room was nothing more than a viewport lined hallway set in deep tones of gold and blue, with a throne sitting at the end of a carved walkway. Guards armored in cloaks of rich browns and expressionless masks stood motionless on either side, staves glowing blue in their hands. Their march down the hall was silent, filled only with the patter of their feet and the harsh sound of Emeldir’s breath in his ears. On the throne an old, weathered man hunched, draped in heavy robes adorned in the same colors as the room around him. Arcann took to a knee in front of the man, bowing his head.

“His Glorious Majesty, Immortal Master, protector of Zakuul. Emperor Valkorian.”

“Welcome.” The single word froze the blood in Emeldir’s veins, bringing his eyes to the emperor as he straightened. His voice was as deep and cold as the space and stars around them. At his side Marr shifted, tilting his head.

“A new name, a new face. These are not enough to hide from us.”

Emeldir tore his eyes from Valkorian, shifting to the expanse of black covering Marr’s eyes, “Marr?”

The mask turned ever so slightly to look down at him, the shift in the voice barely perceptible. “I would recognize his presence anywhere. The Sith Emperor.”

Valkorian brushed the title away with a wave of his hand, pushing himself into a standing position. “A distraction, a means to an end.” He spread his hands wide. “You claim to have come all this way to find me. Here I am. What do you want?”

As if startled from a trance Emeldir stepped forward, breaking from the shadow of Marr. “I want you to answer for Ziost, for the war. All those lives lost because of you!”

#swtor #swtor smuggler #oc: Emeldir #darth marr #arcann #kotfe #kotfe AU #Of Sun and Moon #otp:Questionably Legal

[abunchadorks]

Chapter Four: Gard’s Tomb

Part five: What happened to Phlirp (parts one, two, three, and four here for your reading pleasure.)

They all flinched to find themselves suddenly aboveground, and the more details they gathered the more unsettled they became. For one thing, it was no longer late fall but summer, warm and humid. For another, they weren’t in the mountains of Skald; the ground was flat in every direction that they could see, though that wasn’t far as it was dense woods, full leafy trees and shrubbery obscuring everything but their own small clearing. Reflexively they all moved into a circle, back to backs, ready to spring in whatever direction the threat came from. And they knew there would be a threat--how could there not be?

What they did not expect was that it would come from Phlirp.

The gnome let out a high keening shriek and rammed her dagger straight into Elyserin’s leg, using the thrust as a springboard to push herself backwards in a singe bound. The pale girl screamed and fell to one knee, pawing at the knife and dropping her crossbow. “What on earth are you doing?” she cried, and it was at this time they all got their first good look at their companion.

Phlirp’s normally violet locks were a stark white, her dark skin gone an ashy beige, eyes unfocused and wild. She dipped into a low crouch, another dagger in her hand to replace the one she had lost in Elyserin’s thigh. She muttered something in Gnomic, which none of them could understand but sounded like a challenge. As they watched, she turned her attention all around, taking a swing every so often at nothing.

“What’s happened to her? Did the crypt do this?” Sigrid asked, backing away from the wildly-stabbing rogue.

“Figure it out later,” Manataur said, hefting his sword. There was a crunching in the bushes that indicated that something was coming, something big. They divided their attention between the two flanks, with the creature on one side and Phlirp on the other, and waited to see who would attack first.

Let’s back up a minute.

When she stepped into the tomb, Phirp felt something she could not perfectly describe. Her senses both dulled and sharpened, the wrong sounds and smells and colors coming through too strongly, the wrong things falling into the background. She knew they weren’t underground anymore, and she could smell the deep, wet earth of Uskwood. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Uskwood was thousands of miles away, and even with high-level magic took days to reach from here. Yet there it was, the leaves that particular shade of green, the bird calls the ones you only heard in the forest of home. She opened her mouth and the air even tasted the same, a loamy richness that was so clean it stung.

She was not alone, but her companions were gone. There was a pack of...things, she had never seen monsters like them before, larger than her and snarling, circling round her even as she got her bearings. One came close enough for her to feel its hot, rotten-smelling breath on her face, and she cried out, putting a knife deep into its foreleg and jumping away. It sank to the forest floor and groaned something, it could almost have been a language. Gods, these things were disgusting. They were like if cows had died and been left to decay, and been brought standing again by a shining wet fungus that swarmed and flowed out of every orifice in a pulsing, nauseating ooze. She brought out another knife and got ready to defend herself. She didn’t know where her friends had gone, but if they were surrounded as she was, she could only hope they would survive long enough for her to find them.

It was here that she caught sight of the hand holding her fresh dagger. That isn’t right, she thought, am I really that pale? Something inside her twitched, a fear she thought she had come to terms with. Keeping one eye on the creatures, who had turned away from her to address something in the woods, she flipped her long braid over her shoulder to examine it. There was a split second, before it came around her body, that she thought maybe she was mistaken and this was all just a wasted movement.

Her hair was completely white. 

She hadn’t told the others about the Bleaching. It was too personal, too much like inviting them to suffer with her, and it would mark her as a liability. Who would have someone on adventures if they knew at any time they could just...lose everything? Who wanted to bring a degenerative mental state on board? She wouldn’t have. She had slowed its progress as much as it could be done, incurable as the Bleaching was, and she was certain that she only had fifty-seven white hairs as of this morning. She had counted. How much time had passed? Her pale hands didn’t look elderly. They were as strong and fresh as ever, which could only mean the whiteness wasn’t from old age. 

She stood up from her crouch, reluctantly. “You can’t trust what you see,” she said aloud to herself. “There’s nothing there.” She looked down at the hands holding the knives, and with a monumental effort, dropped them to the forest floor. The monster-things were now joined by a new monster, bigger, worse. It towered over them all and let out a deep roar, fangs dripping with thick ichor, the volume of it splitting right into her head. She clapped her hands over her ears and screwed her eyes tight.

“You are being lied to!” she shouted at herself. “There! Is! Nothing! There!”

“Yes there is, and you are being crazy!” Sigrid yelled back. The beast that had come stomping through the undergrowth was easily the size of three bears, with enough limbs to be three bears, and a bad enough temper to match. The gnome had switched unfathomable tactics, going from violent to loud, which was only provoking the multibear more. Sigrid made some noise herself and delivered a punishing blow to its side, staggering it a step and giving Manataur the opening he needed to plunge his sword into the thing’s throat. She could feel the artificial confidence that came with the priest’s assistance, and though she didn’t love the idea that her hand was guided by the gods instead of her own skill, she didn’t turn it down. The multibear snapped at her, and caught a thick bolt from Elyserin’s cross right in the jaw for its trouble.

There were more than a few times when the multibear’s lumbering brought it close to where Phlirp stood, eyes closed, not doing even the smallest thing to protect herself. The best thing they could do for her was to lead it away when they could, and kill it quickly. While it might have made short work of any of them on their own, the fight was not really a fair one. The four of them gave it a merciful death, and once their wounds had all been tended, they came back to their friend.

Phlirp was aware that the fungaloid monsters had returned to circle her once more. She could hear their awful groaning language as they spoke to one another, and smelled their rancid sweat. They were breathing hard after whatever it was they had done with the other creature. She hadn’t watched, though it came close a few times. It wasn’t real, and it was too ugly to look at if it wasn’t real. 

But now they were back, and it was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes shut. Every nerve in her body wanted to run or attack, anything but stand there and let it happen. She hadn’t let the Bleaching happen, but it came all the same. She could still try to fight. Focus on what you know, she thought. You can’t trust your senses, so what do you know?

I know that I am me, she thought. I know that I am Phlirp Rivenblood, and always will be. I remember my grandmother and Uskwood. I know how to become like a shadow, and I have traveled farther than anyone I’ve met. I know I found a new family.

She opened her eyes. The monsters were gone, though at the edges of things she could feel their outlines coming back. A moment of lucidity then. She took a deep breath and there was no rotting fungus, only loam and trees. Kneeling in front of her was Mya, eyes full of concern and then recognition. I know what she sees is real, Phlirp thought. She removed the last dagger from her belt and put it into Mya’s hand, closing the half-elf’s fingers around the hilt and bringing the point to her own heart. “There isn’t much time,” she said to the priest. “Don’t make me do it myself.” 

Mya let the dagger fall. “Don’t be ridiculous. There will be none of that today.” And without another word, she wrapped both arms around Phlirp in a tight, loving embrace. There was a heavy warmth, and Phlirp saw that the others had joined in the hug, Elyserin behind her, while Manataur and Sigrid draped themselves over the outside, a double ring of protection.

“I got you,” Mya murmured in her ear. “We all do.”

Phlirp nodded as best she could through all the arms, and snuggled into it. She might have her mind torn away from her at any moment, but that was another thing she could keep with her during that awful time: they had her, and always would. She could live with with the Bleaching, so long as she had that.

And she wasn’t being embraced, she was at the front of a line at the bottom of some old stone steps. Mya was behind her, her own forward momentum taking her to the bottom of the stairs, and before anyone could do anything, had joined her at the floor of Gard’s tomb.