#gone or when the power comes back. whichever comes first

[geniusbuilt-tm]

anyway as i was saying if we're going to stay up late it should NOT be working ourselves up to the point of nausea over shit we have no direct control over . and then crying so much the next day that we get a headache and cant get any of our new work done

#at least i was able to get our calendar sorted. while im here i should say we'll probably make good on that announcement either when im #gone or when the power comes back. whichever comes first #im just very bored and there's very little im willing to spend our data + power doing #👾 #im specifically frustrated with carrion here its reactions are so extreme #and i know thats the Problems They Have but picking up the pieces after xe tries to do self destructive shit is SO frustrating #for the record no one else is responsible for this and nobody should worry about this in depth #we've got it under control this is quite actually what we're here for. don't worry about it.

[draemgal]

rescue | azriel

inspo ✎ᝰ

↳ hello! I've seen that you have open applications and I don't know if you want to write this, but I'll give you the idea. Az has to go rescue y/n and her daughter (either her real daughter or y/n's daughter, whichever you prefer) because the bad guys took them? y/n she fought back as much as she could but she was outnumbered, if you could write about that that would be great, thank you so much!!

i’m not the best at writing combat scenes but i wanted to try! i hope i make up for it with the rest of this. :) y/n’s daughter is in her teens.

your wrists ached from the metal shackles binding them to the floor. blood was crusted on your brow, lip, and hair. some of it wasn’t yours, but it all stung the same.

you had failed.

you fought as much as you could, killing a few but the sheer number of them was more than you had encountered.

you looked over at your daughter, she was asleep with tear-stained cheeks.

you were with your daughter and you had failed. she watched her mother get overpowered, her mother surrender. her mother scream at the top of her lungs to spare her, to do whatever they needed to do as long as they let her daughter go.

your mind raced to azriel, your mate. you knew he would find you, but you didn’t know how long the two of you had. nausea ran it’s course through your body at the thought of anything happening to your daughter.

you couldn’t protect her if you were dead.

it had been an ambush by hyburn. you and your daughter were at the library with feyre and nesta, deciding to split up. you didn’t even notice when they came at first, but when you did it was too late.

your stomach pained with thoughts of feyre and nesta, praying that they got out in time.

it prided you that no one had touched your daughter, you cut off their hands when they reached for her. but one of the soldiers had grabbed her from behind as she fended off the others, and you had begged to let her go but they refused. they found her valuable, being the spymaster’s child. they wanted to see what she knew and used her age and naivety to their advantage.

she was not azriel’s biological child, but it didn’t matter one bit to him. he stepped up to the plate and loved her all the same. when you and azriel first started seeing each other, you told him that if he wants you she comes too. he nodded and told you he didn’t want it any other way.

you smiled fondly at memories of the two of them growing together, him teaching her to ride a bike and tucking her in at night.

it was that moment that you knew you’d do everything in your power to get her to see him again.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“azriel, just take a second to breathe!” rhysand reasoned, placing his hands on his brother’s shoulders to stop his relentless pacing.

azriel scowled and pushed him off. “you’re only telling me to take a second because your girl is okay, mine are gone.” he spat and continued pacing, chewing on his nails and running through the endless scenarios and possibilities to get to you.

rhysand shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. “maybe you’re right, but i know that assuming the worst won’t bring them back. we need to sit down, breathe, and come up with a plan of action. until then, nothing can happen.”

azriel knew that the high lord was right, but couldn’t help his mind from wandering. the only thing keeping him sane was the reassurance of you being alive through the mating bond.

“has she contacted you through the bond at all?”

azriel shook his head. “not since it first happened with feyre and nesta. all she said was that hyburn has them, she doesn’t know where she is.”

rhys contemplated for a second. “there’s only so many places she could be. hyburn wouldn’t risk us find out a secret base just yet. they have to be somewhere we know about.”

azriel nodded, trying to control his breathing.

cassian placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “they came in search for nesta, but they didn’t get her. they aren’t going to take your girls somewhere we don’t know about. they are so incredibly strong, azriel. so think back to when you went on spy missions. think of the layout and where they could be.”

azriel closed his eyes and went through his memories of his missions until he had a revelation.

“you ready boys?” rhys asked, standing up.

cassian’s siphons lit up on queue, as did azriel’s.

“let’s go get my girls back.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

rhysand winnowed them to the point where they could fly the rest of the way.

cassian and rhys were supposed to fend of the enemies until azriel could reach the two of you and free you.

when they touched down, cassian unsheathed his weapons and crouched, sneaking around corners to buy azriel time to send his shadows out searching. the darkness dispelled from your mate and followed bodies, sneaking under doorways and remaining unseen.

rhysand waited by the entrance, observing the sheer number of soldiers that roamed the building. a course of worry fluttered through azriel’s veins, knowing it would take far more training than you had been through to fend them all off.

but he felt the bond flutter and refocused himself.

it didn’t take long before cassian let himself indulge in battle, hyburn blood splattering on floor tiles and the sound of metal clanging together.

numerous hyburn bodies fell in a line, a steady pace of one after the other as cassian tore through them, his sheer power not giving them a chance in this ambush.

rhysand stayed behind, only getting involved if cassian shot him a cry for help. it was too risky to blow his guard, the boys knew that.

azriel moved through the bodies, slicing the throats and limbs of whoever crossed his way. he felt the bond between your souls getting stronger as he walked through the corridors.

he found his shadows in a group by a door straight ahead of him, it was guarded by two large men. he set his sights on them, his scarred hands gripping his blade tighter. the two guards sprung into action, attempting to take azriel out. they were no match for the blue siphoned illyrian, and found this out for themselves as azriel sliced into their flesh, letting their fresh blood splatter his leathers.

he savored this moment; killing the two men that kept his girls away from him.

when their lifeless bodies fell to the cold ground, he busted the locked door down.

your face lit up but you weren’t able to move, the shackles weighing you down. “azriel!” you cried, your hands aching from not being able to touch him.

he rushed over to you both. “free her first,” you ordered, pointing to your stirring daughter. she had slept through most of this because you begged her to, telling her that when she wakes up azriel will have come and she’d be safe again.

azriel freed your daughter and kissed her head, promising he wasn’t going anywhere before rushing over to work on your shackles.

“are you hurt?” you questioned, bloodshot eyes scanning every inch of his body.

he only looked at you and shook his head, the ends of his lips twitching upwards. “i should be asking you that, my love.”

you smiled and wrapped your bruised arms around him. “i did all i could, az.” you mumbled into his shoulder. you pulled your daughter in and he picked the both of you up.

“i cant believe you came, dad.” your daughter sobbed through the shakes that overwhelmed her body.

he pressed his lips to her head once more, and then yours right after.

“i’ll always come to rescue you, no matter what. now let’s get you both home.”

you smiled and nodded, nuzzling tighter into him for security. home.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n

[came-out-of-the-coffin-desisted]

not to out of left field dragon age post, but i’m thinking of replaying origins and it made me think about how like. mahariel and tamlen are definitely old enough to be married/bonded by dalish standards, and they’ve been friends for at least a fews years if not their whole lives (and it’s probably their whole lives honestly) so they’ve had time to get bonded.

so the implication is that either a) they haven’t gotten their shit together enough to tell each other how they feel much before like. the week origins begins OR b) the elders wouldn’t allow them to bond, the way they wouldn’t let mahariel’s parents bond, and eventually they relented. and i know a lot of people like the first one and i agree that it is like. nicer to the characters. but the second one makes me go INSANE because it’s like. we think you’re too immature, or maybe just one of you is, you’re too impetuous, you don’t think before you act, and you egg each other on, or one of you is too devoted to hold the other one back. whichever it is, it’s a matter of worrying they won’t be good for each other— they don’t approve of the match.

until someone (probably ashalle or marethari herself) intervenes, and the FIRST thing, the very first thing that happens is they find that cave. no matter how it happened— if tamlen refused to go back to prove that he was worthy, if they egged each other on, if mahariel led tamlen forward— they WERE bad for each other, but not out of malice. out of love. and afterwards, when mahariel is a warden and tamlen is gone from them forever (even if they will, unbeknownst to them, see him again, just in the most horrifying way possible,) i can just imagine them sitting up nights, afraid to sleep because of the horrible dreams, alternatively blaming the elders for not letting them be together sooner and blaming themselves for not going back, for not making him go back.

in the gauntlet, the spirit or demon or whatever it is takes the form of tamlen, taunts them about their failure, about their waking fucking nightmare.

and months later, when there have been so many loses that they’re sort of numb to it all, when they’ve made a new family and maybe fallen in love again, when they’re living every day like it could be their last (because it could be,) they wake up one night in a cold sweat, or they’re in the middle of ~something~ with their new partner, and shrieks ambush their camp. they have to come out and fight, back to back with their new family, with their lover— they finish the fight covered in blood, every inch the warden, every inch the hero of ferelden. and in the aftermath, there he is. the ghost of the one person they never thought they’d lose, their best friend, the soulmate they were /supposed/ to have. and he’s a ghoul, he’s dying, and if they don’t kill him, the blight will force their hand.

and then there’s one fucking line with alistair about it. you can’t follow up on it. …but imagine if you could. imagine if the warden absolutely melts down afterward. imagine if they got to feel, for once, the ENORMITY of what they’ve lost, the enormity of what the blight took from them, which they’ll never get back, even if they have people they love. even if they live through it all, they save the world, now they’re the warden commander and they get to live free of fear—they’ll still never be one half of the happy elder couple who laughs and jokes and says ‘yes’ to every match because they believe in love over all. they’ll never get to see merrill become keeper and tease her about how pompous she was as a kid, they’ll never have children. they’ll never hunt again, never sit with the halla and smile about the beauty of the world.

in a lot of ways i think that the elven wardens lose the least, because they gain power they’d otherwise never have— but they still lose things. there is no easy way to become a warden. the only way that a warden loses nothing by joining is if they had nothing to lose at all.

#anyway. #warden mahariel #tamlen #dragon age: origins #dao #da:o #da: origins

[webslingingslasher]

peter.

peter has been giggly and sharing secrets all night. it started as innocent admissions, then turned into personal tidbits, where he landed with you in bed, kissing your cheek over and over.

‘wait, i have another one.’ you roll your eyes and playfully push him off, ‘you’re so drunk.’ peter agrees, nodding his head a bit too loose. ‘correct. that’s why i wanna tell you this.’

you peek an eye at him, a little more interested now that it sounds like a real secret. he’s tapping his fingers up your arm like he’s got little to no control over his movements.

‘i want you to fuck me.’ you lightly scoff and swipe his touch off you. ‘not tonight, no sir.’ peter doesn’t think you quite understand him, he doesn’t mean it in the way you think.

‘no, now that you’re like, my girlfriend, i can tell you this, okay? i want you to fuck me.’

if peter thought dragging out his words would change the outcome, he was wrong. ‘yes, boyfriend, you can tell me that anytime. doesn’t mean you’ll get it.’

peter smacks his lips over and over, he’s literally trying to find the words. when he scratches at his forehead, or his big brain, whichever you’d like to choose, he has it ready.

‘okay, you know how when we have sex, i’m fucking you? i want that to like, swap. ya know?’ you’re doing your best to work with that you’re given, going out on a limb. ‘do you want me to dominate you?’

a gasp, sparkly twinkles in his eyes, just you saying it makes his cheeks warm. ‘yes. please, please yes.’ the idea makes you nervous, it’s not something you’re used to. subconsciously, you had no issue. actively trying, impossible.

‘i don’t know how to do that. do you know? should i look up femdom stuff?’ peter sputters, ‘femdom? what’s that? i don’t know what that is is. i’ve never seen anything like that before in my life.’ you pat his arm, ‘so believable, honey.’

peter’s gone a little quiet, you hope you didn’t make him feel weird about admitting his desires. ‘i’ll gladly dominate you, but i’d like to know what you want first.’

‘you kind of do it already, like, you know how sometimes when you suck my dick and after i finish you keep going? and it’ll be a few seconds and i’m pushing you off? what if… what if you didn’t let me push you away? what if you kept going?’

he’d be a whining, whimpering mess, that’s what.

you’d love to make his fantasies come true, but you don’t really have a way to exert that kind of power over peter.

‘i don’t think i could hold you back. if you’re not thinking, you could send me flying with a twitch.’ peter shakes his head, ‘thought about it. we’ll make sure my movements are restricted.’

your eyebrows raise, ‘you want me to tie you to the bed?’ peter seems very excited at the idea. ‘yes. and i want you to be mean to me.’

you poke fun, just a little. ‘oh, yeah? want me to dress up too?’ peter sits up, he is so, so, so glad you asked. he felt like that would be pushing it, but since you asked, he’s sharing.

‘fishnets. please, god, fishnets.’

you can do that. peter seems to have figured it out on his own, you wonder how long he’s sat on the idea. ‘i need sober peter to talk to me about this, too. but, as of right now, yes. i’d love to fuck you.’

it’s going to be a dangerous event, because just telling him yes has peter biting his lip and squirming into your side. ‘thank you… mommy.’

#nerdy!petervsfrat!peter #can be either peter i think

[bowiebond]

AU where right after Billy crashes, he’s about to have a good old angry cry over his baby, he’s about to touch the goop on his cracked window and be lured away by his own curiosity, when he’s blinded by headlights.

“Oh my god, sir, are you alright? I thought I heard a crash…” Joyce “Psycho” Byers is rushing out of the car to check on him, some kid she doesn’t really know, because she’s on her way back from work and heard the whole thing and has never been able to ignore a situation where someone might need help.

“Oh god, you poor thing, you’re bleeding, um, I think I have some bandaids in the car - wait no, we should probably get you checked out all together, what if you have a concussion, do you have a concussion? Tell me if this hurts.” She’s talking too fast in her panic, and he’s kind of bewildered as she reached out to feel under his curls for more wounds, but he snaps out of it quickly when she does poke at the growing lump from where he hit his head on the door more than once. The spilt on his forehead hurts enough.

“Watch it, lady.” He doesn’t have enough will power to yell at an older woman, a mother, but he’s running pretty high on emotions right now.

“Let me check your eyes - Jesus, it’s dark out here.” Joyce mutters, Billy dodging her attempts as pulling his pinched brows apart and up.

“Hands off, will you? I just fucking crashed.”

“Don’t use that tone with me.” It’s an instinctive response and it leaves Billy flushing with shame, which only makes him want to throw something, kick something, and it ends up being his car because he’s not gonna kick a woman.

“Sorry, I have two boys, the oldest used to have a bit of a smart mouth.” Joyce flusters. “Is this your car? It was just you?”

“Yeah. Something hit my fu- my windshield. I swerved. Hit the pole.” He felt ridiculous. It was a silent road, he could have just stepped on the break and he would still have a car, his only fucking freedom and possession.

“It happens to the best of us. I’m just glad you’re not dead. Do you need a ride home?”

“I had a date.” He muttered, but his sour mood would not be fixed by seeing Karen Wheeler. Even he knew that.

“Oh, well, I’m sure they’ll understand if you give them a call. The hospital can be a pretty penny, but I can take you home and your parents can keep an eye on you, I’m sure you have a first aid kit, right?”

Yeah, his parents would not give a solitary shit about his condition. Neil would add to it if he was feeling particularly mean.

“My dads gonna kill me.”

“A car is just a thing, honey, it can be replaced. You can’t be. He’ll understand.” Joyce placed a hand on his shoulder and Billy shook her off with a glare at the hunk of junk. All his best memories, down the drain with one crash. His baby was gone so quickly. Like all good things.

“He really won’t.” He muttered, huffing to him. He’d have to find a pay phone. Get someone to tow her back to his place. She’d take a while to fix up, but he prayed he could do it.

Joyce was quiet a while.

“Why don’t you come home with me? Our couch is a pull out, I have a fully stocked first aid kit, I even did a little nursing in the past, volunteer work, so you can relax for a bit until I’m certain you’re good to go.”

Billy sighed. He had two options. Stay here, sort this shit out himself and walk home, or go with the lady everyone calls crazy but seems relatively nice, who has a pull out that’s somewhere other than his own house.

Billy wasn’t stupid, even if he was stubborn.

“Okay. Thank you. Ma’am.”

“Oh please, Ms Byers or Joyce, whichever is most comfortable for you.” She waved off his attempt at manners and put a hand on his back. “Come on, it’s muggy out here, even this late, and I’d like to go home too.” She joked.

“My car…”

“I have a friend at the station.” She patted his chest. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to tow your car home, or to the nearest shop, whichever is best for you.”

She really was doing too much. Billy was gonna start feeling guilt above the slight humiliation he already felt. He rounded her car, a sense of ease filling him as he opened the door. He felt like he had just escaped something really bad, for some reason. Maybe his fathers wrath for the evening.

“Oh, what’s your name again, honey? I forgot to ask.” Joyce asked from over the roof of the car, a little pinch between her brows.

“…William. Most people just call me Billy though.”

“William, that’s my son name.” She broke into a bright smile. “Well, now I’ll have two Williams in my house. I do hope I don’t mix you two up.” She joked as she slipped into the car. He cracked a small smile as he followed.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be calling you Mom like he does.”

“Oh, Jim says I’m everyone’s mother.” She chuckled as she started the engine. “I won’t hold it against you if you slip up.”

“I won’t.” As nice as she was, she wasn’t his mother.

As she drove them away from the scene, Billy felt the anxiety ease in his chest. She was playing pop hits from the previous decade, but they’re nice, nostalgic, and he finds himself almost drifting off.

“Don’t go falling asleep, Will, you might be concussed, sweetie.” Her hand reaches out and brushes his curls back from his face.

“It’s Billy.” He mumbled, and everything kind of goes hazy as his eyes unfocused. Her car is equally muggy as outside, with the smell of artificial lavender, and the music has trilled to something softer. It’s just perfect for a nap.

“Right. Sorry, honey.” He likes that she’s still patting him as she drives, just his hair where it doesn’t ache or sting. “Just stay awake, okay?”

“Okay…” He would. Or at least, he really did try. He’s pretty sure he’s not concussed, just…sleepy.

It feels nice to fall asleep with a hand on his head like the old days.

#just some Joyce and Billy fluff <3 #Joyce mothering Billy like she does Will <3 #because Billy is a sensitive boy too #Billy hargrove #Joyce Byers #fix it au okay #stranger things

[serene-sun]

HC’s or a small drabble (whichever you prefer) about Ifrit knotting his s/o for the first time

TW: the purple parts is where he is choking reader (in a positive way)

@lady-jane3 👌🏻👈🏻💦

The first time ifrit had said, “could you help me when I go into heat?” You hadn’t taken it too seriously.

But now that your pinned against his bed with his hard cock grinding into your ass…you had once again misunderstood ghoul nature.

It’s like his heat was transferring into you, he was already hot for a fire ghoul, but now he was almost too hot to touch.

He fumbled with his pants, whining at the friction between his throbbing cock and jeans. He groaned when he was free, his shirt was already off.

He sounded like he was going to cry, you could tell he was trying to hold back.

But fuck…the way your thumbs slipped under your pants and pulled them right over your ass…he knew you wanted it just as much as he does.

“I need- I need you to say the safe word when you need to.” Ifrit mumbled out, slowly ripping your shirt off and grabbing at your chest.

“Need you…now babe.” You beg him, feeling him already leaking pre cum onto your back side.

Right then, the room fades to black and all your senses are overwhelmed. He thrusts in and out of you so inhumanly fast, so deep and hard.

He’s out of breath and his claws dig into your sides as they wrap and squeeze you.

You feel like your about to pop, he’s so large. You didn’t know they grew…that big…when in heat.

He’s hitting your insides so hard that you feel a thump, thump, thump.

You also feel water droplet hit the top of your head, but your so far gone in the moment that you don’t realize it’s him crying.

You can’t breath, it’s like your soul is being sucked out of you.

Ifrit pulls out, and quickly flips you over. For those few seconds you realize how quickly swollen you have become. But that’s only tighter you are for your lover.

Before you can take a look at him, his hands wrap around your neck, pressing down and squeezing together. You grab his hands, they are so large, veiny, and strong.

He fills you up again, and your so full your body physically rejects him. But he’s so powerful, so strong, and so…very large compared to you that your body has to accept it.

You feel him nail your insides so hard that both pain and pleasure turns your brain to mush. The pain has turned into pleasure, and although there’s a little bit of blood from his claw marks, your smiling cheerfully as he rails into you.

You try to speak, you try to talk but your so far out from shore and your moaning every second that nothing comes out. Not even a syllabus or sound, just pure crying.

You feel him stutter, he tried to pull out once more, but all he can do is attempt to jerk himself out. But he can’t, his knot is already caught in you. So all he can do is go even more deeper, your eyes are wide and your mouth falls open. Your not moaning anymore, the feeling is so great, so overwhelming, so amazing that you can’t breath. You hold your breath, and you feel him stuff you full of his knot. He gives you a few more thrusts, and he’s collapsing onto you, he can’t open his eyes or speak. He’s struggling just to breath, he’s lucky he could pull out.

All of his stamina is gone, his dried tears cover his face, and you feel the cum start dripping out of your tight, and very very swollen entrance.

Fuck you love it when ifrit is in heat

#serene sun nocontext #the band ghost #serene sun spice time #serene sun mutuals #ghost band #serene sun writes #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls #ghost band fic #ifrit ghoul x reader #ifrit ghoul

[goggles-mcgee]

Wish Me Away: What Goes Around Comes Around

Notes: I'm so sorry for the wait but things piled up and it overwhelmed me. My mental health declined and physical health fluctuated, lot's of personal things happened and then I just got caught up in my commissions. I try my best to multi-task but it always gets hard for me. Sometimes I'll hit a streak and then I'll hit a block.

Overall, I'm just sorry and I thank all of those who are still sticking with this story and me as an author.

Warnings for this chapter are descriptions of injuries.

Beginning Last Chapter

Summary: The Agreste's face their Karma

Chapter:

Karma was a beautiful, beautiful thing if you asked Tikki. One of the only beautiful things born from her and Plagg’s combined powers. They were young when they created it, back when they hid from all, be it humanity or the wide variety of Gods and Goddesses. Kwami weren’t known to man, and to the Gods…well, some didn’t understand them, or they saw them as competition, but there were some Gods who sought them out to talk and bounce ideas off of. It was nice and it fueled her need to create. One conversation with some lovely Hindu Gods had her mind spinning to the point she demanded Plagg help her with her idea. He was reluctant, of course he was, combining their powers had proved to be a great yet terrifying thing. One that wasn’t exactly forbidden by Them before they had actually become Them , but it wasn’t highly encouraged either. 

Luck and Creation were Tikki’s domains, Bad Luck and Destruction were Plagg’s, so it was safe to assume they didn’t collaborate often. When they did though, they created such intriguing yet beautiful things that had the power to do as much good as they did harm. An example being the Lazarus Pit. It was just one pit that ended up somehow multiplying and they were spread around the globe. They were misleadingly called the Fountain of Youth, not many knew there was more than one so whichever one they discovered or heard of that was nearby or far away was deemed the fabled fountain. Human tales were such interesting things, Tikki loved hearing and reading them, even in her smaller form. They were shining examples of Creation and what could be done with the gift of Creativity. It was wonderful! Tikki loved seeing Creation in motion but it was something else to see Plagg and Destruction in work.

It was art.  

Maybe it was horrible of her to say but without him there would be no her. Creation needed Destruction and vice versa. They were an endless cycle and there was something just absolutely breathtaking about that. It was no wonder that Tikki wanted to try and merge their powers and see what could be born from it. They saw what happened when they combined their Creation and Destruction powers, but Tikki had been curious about their Luck based powers and Plagg had been a lot easier to convince once she explained that. It had been laughably easy, the power glowed above them for a couple of seconds and it was beautiful, it was more so when it separated into what Tikki could only describe as magic dust and flew in every direction. The dust coated everything and then it was gone. Naked to the eye but Tikki could feel it all around. 

At first, they had no idea what this new thing did but it became apparent the more they observed humanity.  A human would be kind or helpful in some way and Tikki would get this feeling of tickling warmth around her, this person would get a bit of good luck, nobody else could see it but Tikki, Plagg and the other Kwami (and Tikki would wager also the Gods) would see this human surrounded by some sort of glow. It was beautiful, it never stayed one color, it fluctuated and changed but always remained this soft, gentle glow. Eventually it would fade, but Tikki noticed some humans seemed to be constantly surrounded by the glow and it wasn’t a surprise to note they were some of the kindest, most generous and passionate humans she had observed. They were wonderful and Tikki felt they deserved the boost of luck, the Kwami as a whole were in awe. Then they saw the other side of things. 

Tikki knew humans weren’t perfect, that was part of their allure and all, but sometimes some of their actions truly disgusted her. They lied, which isn’t all bad, but some just lied and lied as easily as breathing and did so with no remorse even if a lie caused a problem. Sometimes they even looked proud if it caused some form of problem to happen. There were those who stole just to steal and just because they could, and there were those who killed with no guilt. Tikki and Plagg started to notice that these people started to be surrounded by a dark cloud of energy. The cloud was sometimes small, sometimes big but it always ended in some odd rain of black energy that coated the person till they resembled some sort of shadow being. How covered and how dark they became seemed to be tied to their actions and some time after that person would experience bad luck. 

Sometimes it was something as simple as something breaking right as they were used, be it old or new, and sometimes…sometimes it was a broken bone, getting an illness or even death. But the deaths were never swift, never painless, they were drawn out and full of such misery it was nearly tangible. Tikki couldn’t help but feel proud of what they created, it had some…drawbacks but overall, it was a beautiful, curious thing. Plagg had been so interested in her side of things, he chose to ignore what his had done but that was okay because Tikki found it just as, if not more fascinating than the good luck boost. It was like the world itself demanded justice and it got it when no one or nothing else did. Plagg at first had loved his powers but when he saw the hurt and hate, he stopped loving it, to an extent Tikki understood but at the same time she wanted to knock him upside the head. Without him, there would be no need for her. 

It took him a couple decades but he got there, and their strange new power grew the more time passed. It got mixed reviews from their peers and the wide array of gods but some Hindu Gods loved it. They even helped them name it as they had a similar idea but Tikki and Plagg seemed to have brought power to it. It was a great collaboration and thus Karma was born. Tikki and Plagg found it utterly fascinating and found themselves watching the humans for long periods of time. That was until They came back in their weakened state and all the Kwami came together to try and help them, it ended up being all for naught but They were not short of their wisdom and critics even in their final days. They saw Karma and though they found it just as fascinating they also scolded Tikki and Plagg for mixing their powers together without notifying them. It was a messy argument but one that ended with Tikki and Plagg getting to let Karma keep on. 

Once they were sealed in the Miraculi though, the effects of Karma weakened. It never disappeared but it did fade into a lesser version of itself. There were rare times where Tikki and Plagg were able to see Karma back in its true form and it was almost always after a Wish or after a catastrophic event in their universe. Karma followed and it healed the balance of the world. Many believed it was the Wish that did this, that took and gave in equal parts but that wasn’t true. The Wish brought about whatever change the Hopeful who had managed to obtain both the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculi together had requested, and yes They took something of equal value to the Hopeful in exchange, but it wasn’t balanced. Karma helped balance out all the negatives that came after such events, but when it was caused by a Wish it tended to be more … unpredictable. It was more powerful, more spread out, more vicious and bountiful. 

It would reach everywhere a Kwami, and later, a Miraculous had touched. For those who had any saved up Good Karma, Good Fortune would follow them for a while. How long was never determined as sometimes it went on longer than expected or someone had used up all their collected Good Karma on one big thing. Again, it was unpredictable. The same was true for those who had built up Bad Karma, they could have a lot of low level Bad Fortune or even a lot of high level Bad Fortune. And like Good Fortune, someone could use up all their built up Bad Fortune on something big. When that happened, it was a terrifying sight. The punishments that Karma dictated for those with Bad Fortune could be deadly and some were. Tikki remembered them well. So she knew that no matter what, after Gabriel had made his Wish that Karma would be back in its full power and it was something that would have excited her if she had not been actively losing her latest Bug. She had been so close to losing Marinette and her heart raced whenever she thought about it at Wayne Manor. She wanted her revenge. 

That’s why she had asked Them if she could enact Karma, not natural Karma, that would happen regardless. No, Tikki had asked permission for Kwami Karma, a very special type of Karma that allowed Tikki and Plagg and whichever Kwami’s felt wronged or blessed by a former Holder, some of their former power from before they were Sealed and let them bestow Gifts/Blessings. Though some of the Gifts could very well be called curses, that was part of the Kwami Karma and how a Kwami felt towards the person receiving the Karma. It had been something that Tikki and Plagg last collaborated on as a branch of Karma, many people who had worshiped them had called it Divine Honor or Divine Punishment, whichever applied. It was Hippolyta that bestowed the updated name upon them, really she had been joking, “ Ah, so it is to be a Karma of the Kwami? ” The name stuck though as it had made Tikki laugh. 

Though the name brought a smile to her face once more, it wasn’t a fond smile nor one born of laughter, no this smile was one that promised vengeance. The wind rushed around her and the others as they flew across the Paris sky.  Bruce hadn’t been happy about what they were going to do and yet he had still offered to take them to Paris, Tim had even thought about letting them use something called a Zeta-Tube, they were both very nice offers but this was something that had to be done only by the Kwami. Thankfully they had been given some of their former power that morning, it had been hard to hide it from the new family but Tikki thought they had managed well. Kaalki had opened a portal for them after they had all said goodbye to little Marietta, some goodbyes took longer than normal despite everyone knowing they would be home before the day was up but Tikki couldn’t be mad about it. Marietta deserved every bit of love she got. 

“So, are we doing the announcement first or the Gifts first, Lovebug?” Plagg asked, his voice fluctuating between the high-pitched one Tikki had gotten used to hearing and his old one, his original voice, the one she missed more than she could say. 

“The announcement will be first, but before that, we need to give out some Gifts .” Her voice fluctuated too now that they were close to accomplishing their Karma. 

“Are we starting with…with them, then?” Nooroo asked, his voice soft no matter if it was fluctuating. He had yet to raise his voice above anything other than a soft tone and it hurt Tikki’s heart to see her fellow Kwami like that. It made her furious. 

“Yes, Nooroo. We are starting with the worst of them. Gabriel Agreste and-” Tikki started.

“And Adrien Agreste.” Plagg finished in a hard voice. She gave a short nod as she didn’t know what to say to help Plagg. He was betrayed once more and so was one of her Bugs and it never got easier to deal with. 

It wasn’t long before they got to the Agreste Mansion and Tikki felt all her anger and fury rise once more. She looked at the others, then toward Nooroo who flew to her side to join her and Plagg. The others gave them nods before they found spots to hide on the property until Tikki called them. Tikki looked at Nooroo who was staring blankly at the large window in the back of the mansion where the lair had been, he was shaking slightly. “Come. They will get what they deserve My Friend, and you will get closure.” 

“I would like to come as well, if you don’t mind. I know my Holder is no more, but…” Tikki turned back to see Duusuu floating a little behind them all. Her voice was hopeful yet weak. She was still recovering from the damage that had befallen her Miraculous and now that They had fixed it, her recovery was a sure thing, but it was a slow process. Tikki hadn’t even wanted Duusuu to fly out with them all, but she was a stubborn Kwami. Tikki couldn’t deny her, her own closure in that mansion. 

“Of course Duusedda,” It had been many many years since the Kwami as a whole have used their full names, but this was an important moment and Tikki felt like the Kwami before her deserved to hear her own name in full before they all confronted the Agrestes. The smile she got in response made her resolve all the more stronger. So the four Kwami phased into the mansion and followed the voices. Plagg took the lead on the flight as he was the more familiar with the house, Nooroo was confined to two rooms so wasn’t all that familiar with the home if you could even call it that. 

Tikki could hear the voices more clearly and did not hesitate to go towards the doors and use a power boost to blow them open. She had not been expecting the sight of Emilie Agreste to strike her like it did but she did not let it hinder her mission. Though, a big part of her wished that the woman was included in her Karma. She may not have been revived with her consent but she almost took her Baby Bug from her and that was not something Tikki tolerated. For the sake of balance and for Them , she would not do anything to the woman, plus nothing Miraculous would affect the woman since she was a product of a Wish, it was something Tikki brooded about a lot before this day. She may not be able to touch the woman, but she could touch Gabriel and Adrien who were present and immediately tried to fight off whatever kept them stuck to their chairs. Tikki, Duusuu, Plagg and Nooroo all made their way to the center of the table, which was a longer flight than Tikki expected. What was the point of such a long table? No reasons seemed to be good enough reasons to Tikki and by the look on Plagg’s face, she knew she wasn’t alone in the thought. 

“Hello Gabriel.” Nooroo said, his voice surprisingly and not so surprisingly was cold as steel. Gabriel looked like he was yelling silently at them all but Tikki felt no need to subject them all to his pathetic voice and demands. Unlike Nino’s family who were frozen and aware, the Agreste’s could move their upper body and somewhat legs, they were just stuck to the chairs they sat in and the chairs were firmly stuck to the floor. Tikki did steal their ability to talk or more so muted them as she did not need them to try and justify their actions, she did not want to hear their anger, hers was louder and they would be her first audience. 

“Kid.” Plagg said with a smile that was all teeth. His pupils slit so thin they almost looked like they disappeared in the sea of green that was his sclera. 

“Emilie, it is nice to see you awake.” Duusuu said softly, Tikki didn’t agree with her statement but well, the Peacock Kwami always was one of the nicer beings. They were nice but they did hold grudges for a long amount of time if someone wronged them. They got attached fast though, though to say that would make Tikki a hypocrite. 

“I won’t drag this out. The less time I have to be in the presence of you three would be a blessing.” Tikki growled out. She swiftly looked at Nooroo and Plagg and the three of them shared a grim nod. “Gabriel Agreste, former holder of the Butterfly Miraculous, you have been deemed an enemy of the Miraculi. As such you are forbidden from wielding any Miraculous as long as you shall live.”

The shock in Gabriel’s eyes was delicious as was the panic in Adrien’s. Emilie looked horrified but not shocked and that also gave Tikki some pleasure but not as much as she thought it would. “You, Gabriel Agreste are the catalyst to this Karma, in a way, I suppose I could thank you but that would be giving you too much credit. Besides, you do not deserve my thanks or anyone else’s. You invoked my wrath. You killed my Chosen! You destroyed her! Erased her. I take great pleasure in bestowing unto you, your Karma. I, Tikki, Kwami of Creation curse you with memory.”

Gabriel, who had been doing his best to escape the chair, paused at her words. Was the man really that surprised? Did he truly not think there would be consequences to his actions? The thought made Tikki sneer. 

“You will remember the prices others paid for your selfishness. You will remember Nathalie,” Emilie looked genuinely shocked at the name of her friend and equally heartbroken. “Your devoted right hand who did and would do everything for you. You will dream of the woman you erased from the world. You will see every time she sacrificed her happiness for you and your whims. You will feel the love she had for you and the pain she felt every time her love was rejected, you will feel the pain she was in once she started using the Peacock Miraculous. This pain will last for all the years Nathalie Adeline Sancoeur was alive.” 

Emilie was sobbing but her tears were silent due to the magic that was placed on all three Agrestes. She was yelling, presumably at Gabriel who was not paying her any attention. His face was pale, his mouth agape. “You will also remember Marinette Meiying Dupain-Cheng, also known as Li-Mei by her family in China. You will be plagued by visions of possible futures had you not taken her from this world. You will see how Paris would have mourned her as the hero Ladybug, as the classmate many admired and also her as the kind baker’s daughter. You will never know rest. My final ‘ gift ’ upon you Gabriel Agreste, is the gift of a long, healthy life. And for my parting curse, as I am Creation and Creation is me, I curse you with the loss of skill. You will retain your creative spirit but you will never be able to bring to life one of your ideas ever again.”

Next up was Nooroo, he looked nervous but determined. “I, Nooroo, Kwami of Transmission bestow upon you the curse of never wielding my Miraculous as long as you live. You corrupted a Miraculous, you imprisoned me and you did it all with no hesitation, no remorse and I will repay that to you. With no hesitation in my heart and no remorse to be felt I bestow the marks of a traitor to me and an enemy of the Miraculi unto you Gabriel Agreste.”

As soon as the last word fell from Nooroo’s lips, Gabriel spasmed and clutched at his chest and back. His silent screams meant nothing to the Kwami but it seemed like they affected both Emilie and Adrien who tried to reach out to Gabriel. Their mouths were asking questions no one could or would answer. Nooroo felt no relief or vindication at what he had done and would do but he also felt no guilt. “I also give you the…’gift’ of memory and pain. You will remember each ‘akuma’ you created and all the pain they caused to the people of Paris. You will feel each death as if it were your own, you will feel the break of each bone and you will feel the sting of each scratch. That is my parting gift to you, I have nothing else to say.”

Plagg put a hand on Nooroo’s shoulder and gave him a rueful grin before he took his place in front of Gabriel. “I, Plagg, Kwami of Destruction curse you Gabriel Agreste, with a curse of destruction. As I am Destruction and Destruction is me, I bestow upon you this curse of destruction, you will destroy every relationship you have, had and are going to have. No one will ever trust you, no one will ever like you and no one will ever love you again. You tore relationships and strained them during your tantrum as Hawkmoth, you will experience that first hand now.” 

With Plagg’s final words Tikki knew their curses and gifts were placed and finalized. She watched impassively as Gabriel tore his shirt off and finally saw what his marks were. Emilie had a hand over her mouth as she stared in horror at the red, irritated and raised skin on his chest that took the shape of the Butterfly Brooch, he would carry the reminder of his failures by the burn on his chest. It would never fade, it could never be removed or covered by tattoos. It was his brand as an enemy, it would be the first of many marks given today but his and Adrien’s would be the only ones whose marks caused them pain. Everyone else would possibly feel a slightly uncomfortable itch at first or nothing when given their marks. But these two? These two deserved the pain Tikki felt, they had caused her and many others pain by almost taking away her Baby Bug, so they would feel pain in return. Let the world know that they, the Kwami, were not as benevolent as rumored or to be believed, they were higher beings of morally gray standings and it was time they showed it. 

Gabriel turned around to show Nooroo’s parting mark, the mark that he betrayed the Kwami. Two large yet not so deep gashes ran across his back, deep enough to scar, which was Nooroo’s goal. The gashes were parallel and symmetrical, if Gabriel had had wings, Tikki was sure that’s where they would have been placed on his back. Gabriel had lost his wings and now it was time to show the whole of Paris that. “We have punished you, Gabriel Agreste, as we see fit, but the people of Paris haven’t punished you yet. So, as a peace offering you will be locked in one of their jails, La Santé. Should anyone…desire to help you, they will be sorely disappointed to find you can never leave. I am not cruel, you will be provided meals even if those at the prison decide not to give you some. You will be provided a TV so you can watch everything happen around you. So mote it be.” 

Just like that, Gabriel was gone from his seat, Emilie was crying while Adrien also looked close to tears but was yelling at them. His hair was a mess, his face red and spittle flying from his mouth. He looked as unhinged as Tikki imagined, she knew the boy was hiding a darker side like all did, she just never thought it reached this far. All Black Cat’s had darker sides but they all knew how to control it or embrace it, Adrien was not one of those that could do so. It was a mark, one of many of a False Cat. Thankfully, they would leave this place soon. “Adrien Agreste, former holder of the Cat Miraculous, you have been deemed an enemy of the Miraculi. As such you are forbidden from wielding any Miraculous as long as you shall live.”

Adrien stopped his silent screaming and looked at her like she had grown another head, honestly, she wasn’t even one of the Kwami that did possess two heads in the original form, so she felt like it was rude. “You can glare at me all you want, little boy, but it will do nothing to help you. You are the one who betrayed the Miraculi, not the other way around. As such, I, Tikki, Kwami of Creation bestow upon you the curse of memory. You will remember Marinette, you will remember every instance she put her happiness aside for your own. You will see all the times your ‘flirting’ made her uncomfortable as Ladybug and Marinette. You will see every time you let her down. You will remember Nathalie and every time she made excuses for you and all the times she got in trouble because of you. They also give you a curse, you can never tell anyone about the Miraculi, about us Kwami, but if asked you will only admit to being the traitor Chat Noir. Finally, I bestow upon you a gift. You never wanted Marinette so I shall make everything she ever gave you, turn to ash. It’s only fair after all. My gift will make it so you won’t be so cruelly reminded of Marinette, well, visually at least.”

After saying her peace, Tikki flew to the flowers in the middle of the table and sat upon a leaf, though she would hear everything, she wanted to give Plagg his space to say his own peace. She knew it was going to be hard on him but he always did prefer to show his emotions in private so he wouldn’t break in front of his peers. He rarely let Tikki in so she felt bad that they were present for this moment, but it was needed. She watched as Plagg flew towards Adrien and landed in front of the boy far enough to not be grabbed. His antennae were flat against his head and back, it hurt Tikki’s heart to see. “Kid… Adrien, I’ve thought long and hard about this. You may not have been my True Chosen, but you had potential and I…I cared for you, I thought you would have grown into a great Cat. You had spirit, but somewhere along the way you lost sight of what was important. My Cats tend to be on the reckless side but they have heart and are more than willing to lend a paw when they are needed. You are not Cat of mine.”

“With all that said, I, Plagg, Kwami of Destruction bestow upon you the curse of Bad Luck. You will forever be plagued with bad luck, some days can be better than others but that will all depend on you. If you genuinely do something to help someone or comfort someone with no ill intent or selfish gain, your bad luck will be minimal. Do something out of selfishness or deceitfulness and your bad luck will become worse. I will also give you a gift, you care so much about what others think of you I give you the gift of Thoughts. You will hear every single negative thought anyone has had about you. You as Adrien and you as Chat Noir. You, like your father, will bear the marks of enemy and traitor.” Plagg said in a monotone voice. At the end of his speech Adrien spasmed much like Gabriel had but this time he clutched at his right hand before his head was forcefully turned to the side by an invisible force.

Emilie tried to go to her baby boy and Tikki, feeling merciful, allowed it. Emilie shot out of her chair and to Adrien at incredible speed she cradled him to her as best she could while she sobbed. She ran a hand through his hair and pressed a hand to the supposed scratch marks on Adrien’s face and even though he couldn’t hear her, she was trying to calm him as best she could. Her words may not have been heard but her actions were. Well, to Tikki at least. As much as she despised the woman in front of her, she knew it truly wasn’t her fault and let herself feel bad for her. She awoke to pain and even if Tikki believed she had a part in Marinette being erased she also acknowledged it was Gabriel who started everything in a way. Tikki sighed before looking at Duusuu. “Duusuu.”

The Peacock Kwami looked at her and with just a look they knew what she was going to say, so the Kwami gave her a soft smile. “Emilie, I know you never wanted this. But you did ignore my warnings so long ago and though I can’t give a gift of any great weight and can still give you a small one. So I, Duusuu, Kwami of Emotion, bestow the gift of Innocence. No matter what comes to light you will never hold any blame or suspicion. Given what has happened and what will happen, you need not be punished more than you already have.”

“I will not fight Duusuu’s decision.” Tikki said after a while of silence. “We leave you here as I have a broadcast to make but one final word, Adrien, there is… hope for you. You can be rid of your curses if you realize and admit your guilt in all that has happened. That and accept it wholeheartedly, only then will you be free, but you will never rid yourself of your marks. This will be the last time you see us in person.”

No other words were said before the four Kwami left the house. There was no time for delays, Tikki and the others had Karma to deliver and there would be plenty to go around.

Next Chapter

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#wish me away #wma au #maribat #mldc #ml x dc #mldc crossover #mldccrossover Tikki #mldccrossover Kwami (plural) #mldccrossover Plagg #mldccrossover Gabriel Agreste | Hawkmoth #mldccrossover Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir #mldccrossover Emilie Agreste #mldccrossover mentions of Marinette and Nathalie #Adrien Agreste salt #Gabriel Agreste salt #ml salt fic #hurt with a sprinkle of comfort #Tikki is after vengeance #tw description of injuries #tw burns

[ultimate-blorbo-collector]

Winter King with a Summer Sovereign

Based off an ask I got. It asked for a Summer Queen scenario, but since I wasn’t comfortable doing x reader fics when I got it, here are some headcanons. I might do the scenario later.

I’m assuming Summer Queen has some weather and fire powers. I’ll flesh that out when I do the fic.

Also, I meant originally for it to be more feminine leaning, but I made it neutral again. Whoops.

• It’s so romantic when opposites meet! This combination is especially cute. Winter would be so dreadful without the times where you’re warm and cozy, and summer would be blistering without iced teas and waters and air conditioning.

• You either rule over a kingdom in the grasslands by the fire kingdom, in the fire kingdom, or in the desert lands beside the ocean (which we could also call the Beach Kingdom).

• Whichever Kingdom you rule over, it’s so hot and humid. You and your citizens are used to it, but sometimes people from other kingdoms have issues with the heat.

• You would expect to have the same problem with the Winter King, but, thanks to his ice powers, he never seems to get too hot.

• In fact, the citizens of other kingdoms are so happy to see him at any kind of gathering in your kingdom since he can cool everything down.

• And you tend to warm up non-ice citizens at a lot of the events in the Winter Kingdom. He has control over the temperature for the most part, but he tends to overestimate how comfortable everyone is in the cold.

• Winter sports are very popular in the Winter Kingdom, and I imagine the Winter King hosts winter sport events. Your kingdom probably hosts a ton of summer sport events as well. Any kind of summer sport could played. Soccer, football, track, rugby, baseball, volleyball, swimming, and surfing are all possibilities.

• He participates in all of the winter sports, and he’s so graceful in all of them. We got a taste of that in his episode, but he would make everything he does look so easy.

• He feels the same way about you. Every time you do a volleyball spike or surfing trick, he’s enamored.

• He definitely asks you to show him your tricks and how to play your sports, and he’s glad to show you his.

• Honestly he hopes you’re bad at first at whatever he tries to show you (and vice versa) since it’s so romantic to help you balance on the ice and subtly give you a win. He hopes you can do the same for him.

• He probably does let himself get kidnapped by the Candy Queen often, and you’re almost always there to save him.

• If you’re there to save him, he is so dramatic about it and showers you in attention and praise after you do so.

• At the same time, he warns you not to melt her by accident. He's worried that if you melted the Candy Queen by accident, the madness could come back to him.

• Since you (probably) don’t know about the madness, he would make up a reason for you to be careful about not melting her. He would insist you that even though they are sworn enemies, she would come back, more malformed and crazy than ever if you melted her.

• Everything I’ve written about body heat is true here too. He loves to be around you and especially cuddle.

• I don’t think he’d be worried at all about making you too cold, but everything from sleeping with a heat pad while you’re gone and getting kidnapped because he’s clinging to you is still true.

#winter king headcanon #winter king x reader #fionna and cake #Winter King

[winchester-girl67]

My Father's Daughter

Summary: Y/N gets nervous when her anti-possession tattoo heals overnight. On her second attempt to make it stick she meets a boy that she might have more in common with then she thinks.

Requested by @rachelcarroll1819​ : “Can you do ome where the readers is the daughter of luicfer that john and bobby found as a baby bobby ends up raising her as his owns then when angels show up her powers finally show up also and sje in a relationship with either dean or sam ( whichever works for me)”

Pairing: Dean x Nephilim!reader

Square: Tattoo @supernatural-jackles​

Word Count: 5,805

Warnings: some SPN spoilers for season 12-15 (mainly surrounding Jack, and nephilim), not canon, language, adoption and related topics, implied relationship with Dean before the reader’s 18th birthday (reader and Dean are both 18), implied minor allergic reaction, injured!Dean, injuried!reader, blood, a little violence (involving guns/angel blades), angst, a little pining, kissing, fluff

A/N: This is before Castiel joins the Winchester’s side, I also took some liberties with the nephilim lore. Jack is such a fun character to write for, I had to include him in this request… Enjoy :) Also written for @supernatural-jackles​’ Tell Me a Story bingo.

_____

“What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks?” You gasped at your reflection in the mirror. “Balls, that can’t be a good sign.”

You held open the collar of your flannel and traced your fingers over the unblemished flesh below your collarbone. It was easy to ignore when it happened the first time. A pencil standing on its point for three seconds longer than it should’ve was easy to play off as an illusion soaked in extreme boredom at the time. Strange occurrences were common especially around the Winchesters or anyone involved with the Winchesters, but this was- wasn’t possible. It was your eighteenth birthday yesterday and Dean brought you to get your first tattoo, an anti-possession symbol. You had it inked into the left side of your chest over your breast, just like him, but now it was gone as if it had... healed.

You decided not to tell anyone and buttoned your shirt a little higher than usual. You would just go back to the tattoo parlour today before you met up with Dean. You kept the little anomalies like this to yourself more often than not lately, after finding out you were adopted and who your biological father really was. Lucifer. Talk about daddy issues. You didn’t want anyone finding out that you had inherited anything from him. Eighteen years without a single sign of angelic anything and now you couldn’t deny there was something filtering through you, trying to get out. It felt like power.

“Meeting Dean this early, pumpkin?” Your father, Bobby, asked as you bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen. You nodded, not wanting to lie to him but it was for the best, “Do your old man a favour and grab something to eat before you head out.”

“Alright, dad.” You said, grabbing an apple from the fridge.

“You make sure that boy gets you home in time for dinner,” he cocked an eyebrow at you, “I mean it this time, Y/N. I will get my shotgun out if you’re a minute past six, got it?”

You were his little girl, but he wouldn’t actually shoot Dean, right?

You laughed and nodded, playing it off as a joke. He could only be about eighty-percent serious, at most. You didn’t have a curfew but tonight was an exception. There were family and friends and family-friends, coming over to celebrate your birthday, since yesterday was a weekday and Bobby had steaks marinating in the fridge.

“We’ll be home on time, promise. Bye, daddy.” You pecked him on the cheek and turned his cap around so the visor was in the back.

“Always with the damn hat,” he grumbled as he fixed it back to the front.

You giggled as you twirled out of the room and bit into your apple. You took a couple of bites before holding it between your lips as you laced up your boots and slipped on your jacket.

Outside, you chucked the core into the tall grass opposite the house and climbed onto your motorcycle. You started it up and pulled your hair into a quick braid for the wind, otherwise it would tangle to an extent that could never be brushed out, and took your helmet off the handlebars. You secured the strap under your chin and revved the engine as you kicked it into gear, fish-tailing around before speeding off down the laneway.

Leaves were changing colour and it was cooler outside now. For a moment you wished you had remembered your gloves but you would power through, the tattoo parlour wasn’t too far away anyway. You chose a different parlour across town than the one Dean had brought you to, just in case the artist that tattooed you the day before was on shift today too. Too many questions would be asked and you didn't have the answers.

It was easier this time around, since you knew what to expect and how much it would sting, but you hated that Dean wasn’t there to hold your hand. The woman wiped away the excess ink when she was done the final flame and held up a mirror for you to see. You grinned at the permanent ink, marring your flesh the same way it did Sam and Dean and Bobby and every other hunter you knew.

To anyone else, they’d probably think it was odd but to you it meant protection and family. It was pretty, even with the red raw edges that would eventually flatten out as your skin healed. You loved the way new tattoos raised the skin and appeared to jump out at you. You felt like a badass sporting your fresh ink and bit your lip at your excited smile.

The artist snapped a pic for her portfolio and the shop’s website and you noticed a boy about your age smiling at you from behind the gap in the privacy curtains. He was sitting in the waiting area with his hands on his knees and just staring. At. You.

“Hello.” He said when you passed him on your way out.

His blonde hair was combed to the side, unlike Dean’s whose was always spiked up like an angry hedgehog. You gave him a nod of your head and nothing more. Glancing back at the parlour as you climbed onto your motorcycle, partially just to make sure he didn’t follow you out. He didn’t give off any creeper vibes but he was… odd.

“Ow,” you hissed suddenly as your chest burned. You pulled aside your flannel to see the tattoo glowing white hot before it fizzled out. Your body healing itself again and your tattoo disappearing. You looked up at the tattoo parlour sullenly, there would be no point in trying again. “Shit-balls.”

Just when you thought puberty was over. What the hell was going on with your body now? All you could think was that your bio-dad’s genes were finally kicking in.

It would be easy enough to hide it from Bobby, not so much Dean. Things were getting heated between you two lately and it was inevitable that he’d see you in a bra again. The thing was, the only people who knew about your bio-dad were John, who had passed away a couple years ago and Bobby, who promised never to tell another living soul; especially the boys. Sam would probably understand but he was four years younger than you and he couldn’t keep a secret from his older brother. Dean on the other hand, thought of things in black and white and anything tainted with the blood of a monster must be a monster in and of itself. And Lucifer was a monster, you heard the stories.

You wanted to be like Bobby, not your bio-dad and you wanted Dean to keep loving you. Which you weren’t entirely sure was possible if you told him that you were a nephilim. Until recently you had been questioning it yourself but you couldn’t ignore the weirdness surrounding you anymore or the dreams you’d been having of a man with glowing red eyes, a raspy voice calling out to you. You always woke up in a cold sweat and now you were thinking they might be more than just dreams. Maybe if you’d said something Bobby could help you make them stop.

You started up your motorcycle and pulled on your helmet, glancing back at the parlour one last time and watching as the blonde boy walked down the steps. He still had a smile on his face when his blue eyes met yours and he raised his hand to wave. Then he started walking towards you and you didn’t stick around to find out what he wanted. You weren’t in the mood to be hit on, although you didn’t get that vibe from him. He had more of an innocence about him. You still weren't in the mood.

You must’ve drove past the laneway to your house six times before you decided you couldn’t face your father or everyone else who had congregated there for your birthday dinner. Bobby had bragged about you finally getting your anti-possession tattoo and becoming a real hunter and what if someone asked to see it? How could you explain that?

You went to the one quiet place where you could always think. The graveyard on the west side of town. You didn’t know anyone there but you felt it was nice if someone visited them from time to time. You were always respectful and you liked to sit on the bench at the back between the overgrown trees. The spot was hidden from the road and you could hear the resident owl from time to time.

It was late now and well past six, when dinner was supposed to be ready. Bobby would likely be fuming or worried as hell, probably both. On the brightside, Dean would be with him and everyone else so Bobby would have no reason to blame him or shoot him. Except it was possible he still might try.

You checked your phone to find too many messages from both Bobby and Dean, all asking where you were and when you were getting back. One more recent one asking if you were in trouble. You typed off an ‘I’m fine’ when you heard the leaves crunch under the weight of a sneaker.

You whipped your head around to find the blonde boy from the tattoo parlour peeking out from behind the trunk of a tree. He smiled brightly as he slowly approached you, waving again and if you were about to make a run for it, you no longer felt the need.

“Hello, I’m Jack. I’m sorry if I scared you earlier. This is my first time..." he paused, seemingly struggling to find the word, "-talking." He grinned again.

“O-okay.”

Did he just break some sort of oath-of-silence or something?

You were still skeptical even if you weren’t scared. He wasn’t all that big, kinda skinny, you could take him in a fight if you had to.

“Are you following me?” You asked, he smiled and nodded like he didn’t understand how creepy it was to admit to following someone. “Why, -the fuck?” You almost laughed, it was so awkward, but you settled for a single puff of air. “How’d you find me?”

"I've been looking for you, I’ve been wanting to meet you, you're not easy to find, I can only sense you some of the time -This place is nice." He glanced around, it was hardly the word you would use to describe a graveyard but what-the-hay there were stranger things at foot, “You seem troubled. Can I help?"

"Um, no? I'm just a bit confused. You ‘sensed’ me?" You asked, squinting your eyes up at him.

"You put off an energy when you're stressed and I could tell you needed me. It smells like... sour strawberries -Are strawberries good?" He asked and tilted his head. Dude was weird, but probably harmless.

“Um, yeah, when they have chocolate on them, otherwise they make my tongue feel funny.” You shrugged, Dean had bought you chocolate covered strawberries for Valentine’s day, almost made it worth the itchy throat. “Why do you think I need you? I don't need you, I don't even know you.”

“We have more in common than you think.” He alluded and you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face as he stood there.

“I’m getting impatient, Jack, and you won’t like me when I’m impatient.” You quipped and he tilted his head in confusion. Dean was rubbing off on you, after all those hours watching ‘classic’ movies with him. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why do you feel so familiar?” That was the feeling you were picking up from him, a closeness; you finally figured it out.

“I’m your brother.”

Your face blanched, “The only person I’d consider a brother is Sammy -even if it is a little awkward since I am dating his actual brother- but we’re not related, we just grew up together, sort of... our dad’s knew each other and we hung out… quite a bit actually but that’s not the point. I don’t have blood relatives, up here, anyway.”

“But we have one in common, down there." Jack pointed as he laughed and sat down beside you.

You scooched over to the end of the bench, "So... Your father...?"

"Is Lucifer, yes, and so is yours." He said.

Did he always smile? He seemed too cheery to be a descendant of the Devil himself. At least you had the decency to be unbearably irritable once a month.

"Prove it," you smirked back snidely. Yup, too much time around Dean.

"Okay," he pulled a long silver blade from his jacket, one you knew as an angel blade and levitated it in the air. He moved his fingers and the blade mimicked his motions. "Pretty cool, huh?"

You nodded and remembered the pencil; could you do something like that someday? Maybe you had to focus more or less, he didn't seem to put much effort into it.

"Do you want to try?" He asked, grabbing the blade from mid air and handing it over to you. "It's easy, just focus on what you want it to do and make it happen."

You focused on the blade in your hands and squinted your eyes, picturing it spinning in a circle like a top. You almost burst a blood vessel in your eye before you huffed and gave up, "It's no use! I can't do it."

"You're just trying too hard. We can work on it," he smiled again and you handed him back the blade.

Jack wasn't a threat, somehow you just knew, but how long was he planning on staying? And if he stayed you'd have to explain yourself and him to Bobby, that wasn't something you were looking forward to.

"Do you have any tattoos?" You asked.

"No, should I?" He asked, his smile fell and he looked worried for a moment as if you wouldn't like him if he didn't.

"I tried to get one, twice now, but it keeps healing." You pulled open your flannel a little to touch the skin where the tattoo should've been. "Kinda sucks, you know? I've been injured on hunts before and I have scars, so it doesn't make any sense to me. Why now?"

"Maybe..." he thought and tucked the blade back into his jacket, "Your powers are only developing now because you grew up slowly. You had a normal adolescence."

"I'd hardly call my childhood normal," you rolled your eyes. You were raised as a hunter and Bobby took you out for target practice every Sunday and when John and the boys were in town, you would have to participate in sparring and weapons training, all before you could read. And when you could read, lore was added to your studies along with your typical -normal school work. "How come you have your powers already then? You're about my age."

"I had to grow up faster than you, there are things -people here that want to hurt me and I needed them to protect myself." He explained, “That’s probably why yours are just showing up, your body feels it too.”

“Feels what?”

“Our father, his return.”

“Bio-dad, Lucifer?” You huffed, “Uh-yeah, I don’t think so. My surrogate dad sealed him in a cage eighteen years ago with the late-great John Winchester, you might’ve heard of him? Trust me, dude, we’re safe.”

“You can’t feel him? Maybe I can help you along,” Jack reached out to touch your forehead with two fingers and before you could push his hand away your body was flooded with images, feelings, light, dark, energy -it was too much and you pulled away, trying to catch your breath and blink away the numbing headache.

You gulped and met his blue eyes, “How are you only a day old?!”

Not only had he transferred everything he felt to you but also every memory he ever had, tracing back to even when they were just feelings in the womb of his mother. You didn’t remember any of the same stuff from your own life. How could you be the same but totally different? You were stressed beyond belief, your mind racing a mile a minute and that’s when you noticed the pulsing light coming from your palms.

“Um, Jack,” you said, inspecting your palms and turning them to face him as the light got brighter and pulsed more frequently with every heavy heartbeat. “What’s happening to me?”

“I helped you find your powers, they were -uh… hidden. I just pulled them to the surface so now you can access them.” He smiled and you gaped as a single pulse of light left your palms, hitting Jack like a force field and knocking him off the bench. He landed a good ten metres away but shook it off and stood back up, “-Ouch.”

Voices filled your mind as if multiple people were whispering in your ears all at once and they kept getting louder and louder until all you heard was a blaring hiss as if a radio was in the midst of tuning. You fell off the bench, clutching your ears with your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as if it would help.

You screamed over the noise though you couldn’t hear yourself, “Jack! Jack!”

You felt his hands rest over yours and a moment later the noise faded away. You sighed and blinked open your eyes. Your ears felt as if they were bleeding and you touched them to check.

“What the balls was that?” You asked, catching your breath.

“Angel radio, I forgot to warn you it can be overwhelming but you’ll get the hang of it. It gets easier to tune out with practice.” Jack said, helping you to your feet.

“I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, me either.”

“All I really heard was buzzing, will I be able to understand them? When I get the hang of it.” You could hardly believe this was your life now, hearing angelic voices in your head and pulsing shockwaves from your palms.

“Yes,” he nodded, “The pain will always be there though.”

“What were they saying?” You asked, noticing the dirt on your jeans and brushing off your knees.

“It was a distress signal about Lucifer.” Jack explained, brushing some crumpled bits of dried leaves from your shoulder.

You heard someone approach, heavy on their heels, “Get away from her!” Dean yelled with his gun drawn, eyeing Jack like he was ready to kill.

But you didn’t want him to hurt Jack, your little brother, “Dean, No!” You spun around and held up a hand. You didn’t mean to release another shockwave and it sent Dean flying into the tree behind him. He hit it back first and slumped to the ground, unconscious. “DEAN!”

You ran to him and cradled him in your arms, pulling his head to your chest. Tears welled in your eyes and dripped onto his cheeks as you curled over him and rocked back and forth. You didn’t know if it was your new powers but you could tell he wasn’t okay. He hit his head hard and you didn’t even know if he’d wake back up.

“Stay right there, boy.” You heard your father’s voice warn Jack as he approached you.

“Daddy?” You sobbed.

“It’s okay, pumpkin, he’s gonna be okay.” Bobby crouched next to you and inspected Dean’s head. His hand was covered in blood when he touched the back of it. He frowned and scrubbed the other palm over his scruff, “Oh, balls! Hang on, Dean.”

“Y/N,” Jack risked a step forward even with Bobby’s gun still trained on him. “I can help him. I’ve done it before.”

He had, hadn’t he? A single memory of Jack healing his birth mom while still in her womb came to mind. He wasn’t lying. You nodded and put your hand on Bobby’s gun to lower it. You weren’t even sure at this point if a bullet could even hurt him... or you anymore. Now that you feel more angelic than human.

Jack knelt next to Dean and laid a hand on his head. His fingers glowed a warm gold, the same colour as his irises and you felt Dean’s body react; his heart stabilizing with stronger beats and his breathing evening out until he began to stir. You watched intently as his green eyes fluttered open and you wiped away your tears, then dried his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Are you okay?” You whispered when he locked eyes with you.

He stared up at you, registering all that just happened and then a shot rang through your ears. Dean sat up and pushed away from you, his gun smoking in his hand and you looked down at your chest. Where he shot you.

“Idjit! What did you do?!” Bobby yelled at Dean and tried to inspect your wound. It actually didn’t hurt all that much and when you opened your shirt, the same golden glow you’d seen moments ago healed the wound until it was as if it was never there.

“That’s not Y/N! What are you, you bitch?! What did you do with her?!” Dean shouted, raising his gun again. "I swear if you hurt her-"

“Boy, you better put that gun down if you wanna see your next birthday.” Bobby warned and Dean glanced between you both, noting that he was the one out of the loop. He lowered the gun but kept it ready on his thigh and felt the back of his head curiously. “I was wonderin’ when those nephilim powers of yours would kick in, the only question I got is... Who in the holy balls is this guy?” Bobby asked, nudging his head towards Jack.

You always loved how he could incorporate balls into any sentence whether it fit or not and you guessed you did it too; you were your father’s daughter after all.

“He’s -um, my brother. Half-brother.” You said and glanced back at Jack who smiled and held a hand up as if to shake your father’s. Bobby didn’t reciprocate though and you added, “On my bio-dad’s side, obviously.”

It was well known that a human mother couldn't survive the birth of a nephilim child. Your note was more to tip off Bobby to shut up in front of Dean about it. Not that Bobby took the hint since he probably felt the cat was out of the bag anyways.

“So, good-old Lucy got sprung from the cage, eh? I figured that would happen eventually -was hoping for more time though.” Bobby grunted and fixed his cap like he did when he was unnerved and not wanting to show it.

“Am I the only one who doesn’t have a fucking clue what in the hell is going on? Y/N?!” Dean huffed and furrowed his brow.

“I -um,” you didn’t know how to explain. “I -um, I’m adopted. Surprise.”

“You’re Lucifer’s daughter?” Dean asked, catching on quickly.

The light in his eyes dimmed at the idea and you knew you needed to correct him and fast.

"No! No, I am Bobby’s daughter and I suppose... a by-product of Lucifer’s sperm donation.”

Dean nodded, then cringed. "That’s kind of gross.”

“I’m still me, Dean, the girl you’re in love with but won’t ever admit it to.” You said, hoping for him to see you the same way he did before. “I’m the same girl.”

“No, you’re not. Your eyes are different.” He stared hard like he was trying to see past something.

You looked to Bobby as if he had the answers, “Your eyes are glowing, pumpkin.”

You imagined your reflection with the eyes you’d seen Jack wear when his powers filtered through him. Then you felt it, the difference, you weren’t in control of them yet, they manifested with the waves in your emotions. It was extremely hard to control.

“Jack, how do I make it stop?” You asked and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Take a deep breath and let it go.” Jack said.

You didn’t think it could really be that fucking easy, but gave it a try. When you opened your eyes again you could feel the light dimming and then extinguish. You were exhausted.

“I wanna go home.” You looked to your father and he nodded. Jack’s smile seemed to turn upside down and you added, “Can Jack come too?”

“Might as well, party’s cleared out anyhow.” Bobby stood up and eyed Jack, sizing him up. You could tell your father didn’t trust him yet, but you knew Jack was good, you could feel it.

“Sorry I missed the party.” You stood up and hugged Bobby.

“Don’t worry about it, pumpkin.” He patted your back and ruffled up your hair when you broke the hug. You frowned and tried to tuck the loose strands of hair back into your braid. “We should get outta here before-”

You heard what could only be described as a rush of feathers before a bald man in a suit appeared before you, "Hello, Robert.”

“It’s Bobby, jackass.”

There was another louder rush and two others appeared next to him. One of them oddly wore a trench-coat over his suit. You knew instantly that these men were angels. You could see their halos shine brightly above their heads. A side effect of finally getting your nephilim powers you assumed. In all your time hunting you hadn't come across any angels, you never wanted to either based off of the stories Bobby and other hunters told you.

"Zachariah," Bobby said, nodding at the bald angel before him, then the other in the tight suit, "Uriel... long time, no see."

You knew from your studies that Uriel was an archangel, by far more powerful than the others, even if he seemed to let Zachariah take charge at the moment.

“I thought we had an understanding." Zachariah continued, "If the nephilim child showed any signs of getting her powers you were supposed to contact me, right away."  

“Like you wouldn’t have known, don’t you have some sort of angelic radar? As soon as the kid showed any signs of grace you'd feel it. That’s why you’re here isn’t it.” Bobby snapped back at the man, or angel wearing some poor sap as a meat-suit like a demon would.

“Precisely, which is why we wanted to avoid an event large enough to attract our attention. She hurt the boy, didn't she? That could've been avoided. She is an abomination and she will offset the order of the universe, given the time; there’s only one way to deal with this sort of thing... Castiel.”

The angel wearing the trench-coat stepped forward with a stoic face as if he was about to carry out some unspoken order. Like a good little soldier of heaven. An angel blade dropped into his hand from his shirtsleeve and he advanced towards you. You stumbled back and Jack grabbed your hand and puffed out his chest. Castiel stopped in his tracks just as both your eyes began to glow.

“That can’t be.” Castiel said as he backed off. He glanced back at Zachariah and then disappeared with a flutter of his wings. At least he knew when he was outranked.

The others however, Zachariah and Uriel, did not retreat and advanced upon you. Each with their own angel blade in hand. You and Jack channeled your powers together and raised your hands. You released a joint shockwave that blew them apart to mere atoms which floated away in the wind like snowflakes on a cold winter day. Your power alone was great, but together it was unmatched.

There would be no issues destroying or caging Lucifer when the time came for it. But you would have to find him first. Or maybe he would find you now that your powers had emerged. Apparently it sent up a pretty big blip on the angelic radar or whatever Bobby called it and Lucifer was probably still connected to that, right? Or at least had some sort of version of it.

"Holy hell,” Bobby cursed, “Come on, Y/N, we best be getting home before someone or something else comes looking for them or who did that to 'em."

You let your father lead the way to his truck and towed Jack along with you. Meanwhile Dean trailed behind keeping a watchful eye on your new found brother. All the while not saying much.

He didn't say anything actually, not even when you remembered your motorcycle. He just took the keys from you so you could drive back with your family. Or maybe he just didn't want to be squished into the cab of that old Ford with a being more powerful than an archangel -that was born yesterday- and your father. Bobby was super protective of you, and Dean and his relationship was strained because of that. It was a miracle they drove here together without someone getting shot now that you thought of it.

And Dean's silent treatment continued for days longer than any fight you'd had with him since you had gotten together. You didn't even know if you were still together anymore. So to say you were surprised to see him show up when Bobby and Jack went out on a day trip for some bonding, was an understatement.

"Hiya, sweetheart." Dean said, standing in the front doorway and glancing behind you, his eyes searching the space. "Bobby out?" He asked, you nodded, "How 'bout your -uh... b-brother?"

"You mean Jack?" You asked, he'd probably just forgotten his name. Dean gave you a soft smile and nodded twice, "Yeah, s'just me home. Why, you come to snuff out the monsters? One abomination at a time?"

Dean pushed his brows together and frowned down at you. "Listen, girly-"

"Girly?!-"

"Y/N," Dean pleaded, slipping your name off his tongue with his hands held up as if to pose no threat. "I know Bobby said you needed time and you didn't wanna talk to me, but I just gotta get this off my chest and then I'm gone, okay? Can you just listen? Please."

That wasn't true. Bobby lied. But you motioned for him to continue anyways.

"I was pissed at you. For not telling me, not trusting me. You were there for me when my father-" Dean choked up and cleared his throat. His eyes watered as he searched for the right words to say, "I just -I didn't understand why you didn't want me there for you, so I blamed you. But then I thought about it, really thought about it and it's no wonder you couldn't trust me, hell, why would you? All I've ever done is maim and kill-"

You'd heard enough, "Dean, I trust you! Nothing's ever going to change that and I didn't tell my dad to tell you shit. You just looked so hurt, I didn't know how to reach out and thought maybe you didn't want me to." You chewed on your lip before you decided to swallow your embarrassment and rolled your eyes at yourself, "Fuck it, I love you." It was the first time either of you said that out loud, "And I know at one point you felt the same about me and I guess, I'm just hoping that's still the case?"

Dean gave a delicate nod and shrug of his shoulders, "You'll always belong with me, Y/N." He confessed and stepped forward to wrap his arms around you. You let him and he pressed his forehead to yours. "And I care about you, too."

It hurt a little that he didn't say it back, but that was close enough for you. Dean wasn't touchy-feely in the case of emotions and you didn't need to make him say it. You felt it in the way he clutched you to him and you sunk into his embrace.

Dean pressed a hard kiss to your temple and another open lipped kiss to your cheek. You felt the heat of his breath on your lips before his mouth molded to yours and your tongues touched. His movements were slow and passionate and when his fingertips touched that ticklish spot on your neck you giggled into the kiss.

He felt like coming home; safety and warmth in his arms. Even if you didn't need protecting anymore, it was nice. It was the first time in days you let yourself relax and it seemed like you weren't the only one.

Dean pulled away to let you catch your breath and you slowly blinked open your eyes to meet his. He let out a breathy chuckle and his forehead fell to yours again, his eyes admiring yours with an amused grin on his face.

"Your eyes are glowing," he breathed and sucked on his bottom lip. "You are so damn beautiful.” And he brushed the hair from your face. “You’re everything to me.” You felt his eyelashes brush your cheek and his hand sink from your lower back to grip your butt cheek. "You’re my everything.”

Your cheeks instantly hurt from smiling so bright at his words.

His other hand met on your backside and you squealed when he squeezed hard enough to bruise, but only for a second. Dean chuckled, slapped your butt and kissed you again. And you got lost in it.

Until the backdoor slammed shut, “Boy, get your damn hands off my daughter!" Bobby commanded as he set the cooler he was carrying on top of the counter.

Jack followed in behind him and smiled at Dean with a small wave.

Dean stopped kissing you and raised his hands as he stepped away from you. He was grinning wildly and biting his lip, his eyes roaming your body like they always did before they held your gaze.

You so easily fell back into the way things were before with him and this was the good part. The part where you could speak novels with a wink of an eye. It was like a language only the two of you could speak and he was saying 'I still love you, so damn much'.

Your father cleared his throat and you rolled your eyes, "Dad, I thought you said you were taking Jack fishing? Shouldn't that take a couple more hours?"

"Not a chance, pumpkin." Bobby side-eyed Dean, "Besides, kid, already caught a week's worth. He's a natural." He boasted, coming around to Jack much faster than you expected him to.

"I'm a natural," Jack repeated and beamed with a little tilt of his head. He bounced on his heels, twice, he was so excited.

You groaned and shook your head, "I'm surrounded by dorks."

"What's a dork?" Jack asked and furrowed his brow.

Dean answered, "A little brother."

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

Forever SPN: @hobby27​

Tell Me a Story Bingo: @princessvader15

#tell me a story bingo #dean x nephilim!reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean x #dean winchester x #spn fanfic #supernatural reader insert #jack kline fanfic #spn reader insert #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean one shot #Supernatural fanfic

[icee133]

Hello! This is part nine of the Marionette series! Wanted to let you guys know I won't be able to post next week due to some testing I have to do, but I'll try to make up for it the following week! Hope you guys like this part. Sorry for any writing errors.

If you would like to be added to taglist let me know!

The Marionette

Masterlist, Part Nine 🤍

Word count for this part: 1752. Enjoy!👻👻

Synapsis:

A new overlord has manifested in hell seemingly overnight. One that overpowered many if not all of the current overlords in all the right ways. Will this overlord use her powers for good to help the members of the hotel? Will she fall in love with a man and end up in a loving gentle relationship? Or will she get her heart broken and turn against them all, burning each bridge she meticulously made. 

The Marionette is a heart wrenching fic with many turns you won't see coming. Stay tuned for each of the episodes as they are released.

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Nette and Lucifer had ended the night on a rather high note despite the thing with the now fallen winner. They had bid each other goodnight after a bit more teasing and laughing about their new nicknames for each other. Nette had gone to bed smiling, forgetting a bit about the huge issue that was the first man.

Nette woke up and immediately felt a tension in the air. She quickly shot up out of bed and got dressed. Trying to hurry out of her room and down the stairs she forgot her ability to quite literally open portals. She had thrown her hair up in a ponytail and was trying to tie her bow tie on her way down the stairs. She glanced in the mirror that was at the top of the stairs, straightening herself out to be presentable when she heard the very loud voices coming from the main room. When she reached the final step she heard glass shatter in the main room, then one of her boys voices. Slightly picking up her pace she entered the room to see Adam standing in front of her 3 sons seemingly picking a fight with them. While poor Charlie tried to stand between them repeatedly telling Adam he was still injured and to not make any stupid decisions. Nette knew she had to get involved quickly before this escalated more. She quickly did a scan of the room to see who all was there. Only seeing her 3 boys, Charlie, Vaggie, Adam, and Lucifer. “What in the literal hell are the 4 of you doing?” Her 3 boys whipped their heads towards her and the room fell silent. “Charlie. What part of this needs to remain on the ‘down low’ did you not understand? And you-“ Nette turned to look at her boys “you 3 need to sit the fuck down and be quiet. I know the hard feelings you have but you need to understand what is at stake right now. We don’t need all of hell knowing the asshole is here or shit will get ugly. So shut up and sit down” Nette’s voice had dropped back to the tone she had used the first day she had arrived at the hotel, and Lucifer found himself thinking it was rather interesting how easily her voice did. Then thinking how she never used that tone with him. 

Nette turned to Charlie again hoping she would explain herself about the matter when Adam suddenly interrupted. “Who the fuck are you bitch, and what makes you think you can come in here like this and interrupt me?” ‘You can call me Marionette, or Nette whichever doesn’t matter right now. I’m an overlord of hell and the mother of those 3. Now if you wouldn’t mind shutting up so the whole fucking pride ring doesn’t hear your unnecessary yapping that would be fan-fucking-tastic” she said while smiling. Adam’s face turned red almost with a new found rage at the fact this women who was absolutely tiny just spoke to him as though he was nothing. He got right up in her face and started yelling at the overlord. “Do you know who I am? I’m Adam the first fucking man, I started everything on earth, who are you to speak to me li-“ Nette snapped her fingers and Adam suddenly stopped talking. Charlie had tried to shove herself between the 2 of them to prevent any casualties or further injuries to the first man (Despite how much he pissed her off at the very fact he was still being a complete dickwad complete;y ignoring his position at this point in time) when she realized he had stopped talking. She quickly turned to look at him realizing there was a stitch pattern across his mouth with a blue colored string. “Nette what the hell you can’t just do that!” She yelled at the overlord. “I gave him a chance Charlie, but you need to understand he isn’t one who is going to listen to anything, especially not reason. Trusting him be quiet and not run his mouth every fucking chance he gets is a mistake.” Nette said to her.

 

She looked back at the first man before saying “When you earn it you can speak for now all you need to do is listen. Yes we know who you are Adam and that’s the problem. See you were an Angel until- well to be honest we don’t know exactly when you ended up like this but oh well. Anyways you are a sinner now. You are no longer an Angel and that is a big problem. All things considered this is the worst thing that could possibly have happened at this point in time. You being here proves only one thing. That human souls in heaven can fall and become sinners. The exact opposite of what we needed to prove. You being here also puts a large target on the hotel if it gets out. A lot of people down here will want you dead. Like fully dead. The way the exorcists did to many souls down here, and they won’t be gentle or nice about it either. Unfortunately this means you are going to have to stay hidden in the hotel. No leaving, no texting, and no yelling out your name like you did before. Your existence here puts everything in jeopardy. Not only the hotel but your life and ours.” Nette had changed her tone to a less condescending one while speaking to the male. He seemed to understand the importance of the situation, and wanted to say something about it but with the string still stitched across his face he simply couldn’t. 

Charlie was looking at the overlord in front of her as she spoke. She had come to realize the fact that she was very good with words. Always finding ways to say things so they could be understood well. Especially important things. “Can you take the string off so he can talk?” She asked the overlord. Nette looked at her then turned her gaze to her father who was sitting looking directly back at her. She nodded before snapping her fingers again allowing the string to dissipate. Adam spoke “How did this happen? How long has it been since the extermination? Why am I even here?” Charlie saw the sad look in his eyes. A stark contrast to the arrogance that was dripping from his voice earlier. She hesitantly said “we don’t know. Me and Vaggie were trying to figure that out while we were caring for your wounds last night, but didn’t find anything of importance. It’s been months since the extermination, and we only found you yesterday. Where did you go? Where have you been? And how did we find you now with the injuries you sustained back then? None of this makes any sense.” Lucifer spoke for the first time since Nette had been there “I’m not sure what happened, but we know for sure you were killed with an angelic blade. So you shouldn’t have been able to come back. This information is unarguably the one that confuses me the most. But this and Everything else can be dealt with in due time. For now we have preparations to work on for the talk with heaven.” He had addressed Nette when he spoke about the preparations for heaven. Hoping she would get the point that he was excusing himself from this, but had wanted to talk to her when she was finished. Nette caught on quickly before saying “yes we will work on that. Give me a minute and I’ll meet you in your office.” Lucifer nodded before excusing himself from the room. Nette turned back towards her boys “you 3 need to behave. I understand your distaste for the situation, but unfortunately there’s nothing we can do. You are to listen to what the princess of hell says, and this was her decision. I’m sure you want to kill him for what happened, but I don’t even know what that would do considering it didn’t quite work when nifty did it. For now just… BE CIVIL” all 3 of the boys grumbled under their breaths about it but had been present for the duration of the prior conversation. So while they didn’t like it, they knew it had to be dealt with. 

“Charlie… we need to figure out where he went and what happened after the extermination. Try to see if you can’t figure anything out. Perhaps talking to a few of the sins or even the goetia may provide some answers? For now I’m going to work with your father about speaking to heaven. Hopefully all goes well.” Charlie lit up “Of course! Me and Vaggie will look in the library at the castle and see if there is any more information there, and if not we will probably speak to Asmodeus or Belphegor to see if they have any ideas on the matter. Of course, we won’t say too much. Just enough to get what we need if they have it.” She pulled Vaggie into her side before leaving quickly to get started. “Angel, Husk, Cherri, you can come into the room. I know you 3 were listening in.” Nette said pointedly at the entrance to the kitchen. Angel slowly peeled out from behind the wall looking at Nette carefully. “Listen, I need you guys to watch him.” She gestured to the first man. “The 6 of you should be able to handle that while we get the information we need. Just make sure he doesn’t leave- not that he will, but still- and try to be nice. Don’t blow up the hotel or you’ll be answering to 2 very pissed off fallen Angels and the princess of hell. Understand?” A chorus of “yes” rang out in the room. Nette looked at Adam before taking a few steps towards him before summoning a blue string. She grabbed his hand lifting it up before placing it around his wrist tying it in a bow. The string seemed to disappear from sight, but he could still feel it. “Think of this as a form of communication. If you need me for anything pull it off and I’ll be able to talk to you through it. It’s weird but it works.” Adam nodded at her watching as she turned and began walking towards the stairs to meet up with Lucifer in his office. 

Taglist:

@popamolly @preciousbabypeter @amberforest08

#hazbin hotel #alastor #angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin husker #hazbin lucifer #huskerdust #lucifer morningstar #marionette

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

Konrad Curze is yeeted to Gotham instead of Nostromo

A child mysteriously appears on the streets of Gotham and beats the living daylights out of whichever lunatic tries to kill him before Batman finds him. Batman, perennial foster failure of orphans, promptly adopts him. Motivated by a thirst for justice and violence, Konrad sets out to become the best Robin there is, and succeeds with flying colors because he’s a super powered transhuman. Damien is pissed about being outdone. Tim nicknames him Konny. Dick steps in as the Angsty Child Whisperer to get him to calm the fuck down. Steph and Cass are too busy getting screwed by editorial to make an appearance. Batman realizes immediately that Konrad’s physiology is hella op and embarks on an epic, years-long storyline to figure out what the hell is going on. At least three origins are introduced and then retconned. Konrad angsts about how he’s a monster who doesn’t belong anywhere. Much drama is wrung from this.

The writers keep using Konrad’s visions to foreshadow that Konrad is destined to be A Baddie. This goes on long enough that you start to suspect that the writers will never actually follow through on all that foreshadowing. Finally the DCU magicians are called in for a crossover, and this fixes all of Konrad’s problems for a few years. Unfortunately the spoopy visions are too good a story hook and eventually they come back just in time for Konrad’s other Primarch capabilities to properly manifest. More angst ensues. Someone travels from a bad future where Konrad became the totalitarian dictator of Earth after he snapped and killed the Joker for doing a genocide (or nuking New York, or starting the Fourth Plague Pandemic, etc.). All of the visions suddenly start focusing on Evil Future Konrad and how he'll murder people for jaywalking and it’s all very tragic.

Konrad flips the fuck out over his evil destiny just in time for the annual giant crossover event where Trigon or Darkseid or some other extradimensional monster invades. It might actually be good but the damn thing is spread out over multiple books and you don’t want to buy them all, so you ignore the missing chunks and just focus on the cooler splash pages of kickass fights. Konrad is nearly tempted to do An Evil but at the last second he is pulled back from the brink by the teachings of Batman, and possibly by the baddie gratuitously killing a popular B-list character. Instead he strikes the decisive blow and saves the day. Much rejoicing is had, and Konrad finally bids farewell to his evil destiny in a heartwarming scene where he is surrounded by the Batfamily. All is well in the DCU.

Five years later all of his character development is thoroughly destroyed when a writer decides he needs a shocking new villain.

Konrad fans lose their goddamn minds. Think pieces are written on all of the geek websites, Tumblr churns out discourse, Reddit churns out circlejerks, 4chan churns out gross memes, but somehow the worst takes all come from Twitter X. It’s chaos, absolute chaos, and honestly you’re kind of tired of it all, and the latest Batman cartoon looks pretty good, so you take a break from comics and just get your fix that way. Much later, you run across a drama write-up, which makes you wonder, whatever happened to Konrad Curze? You look him up on the DC wiki…but he’s gone. Vanished. Disappeared, just as mysteriously as he first appeared. It’s almost as if some mysterious entity whisked him away. A million theories circulate, but no one ever knows for sure.

The grim darkness of the far future may only contain war, but hey, at least it’s simple.

#warhammer 40k #konrad curze #batman #dc universe #batfamily #Did I mention that he becomes a Tumblr sexyman at some point? #Because he definitely becomes a Tumbler sexyman at some point #40k continuity is a clusterfuck but I think superhero comics might actually be worse #I say that from a place of love #superhero comics are a clusterfuck (affectionate) (derogatory)

[sylverstorms]

“You look your best when you’re at my mercy” League of Legends Version.

Katarina has her hands everywhere on you the second your door closes behind her. Lips hot on yours, she walks you back at a dizzying pace, silently demanding you trust her to lead you to bed, or whichever other surface she decides she wants you on tonight. 

In itself, the intensity is nothing new; she’s a crimson hurricane on most of her nightly visits, one that leaves you breathless, wrecked in more ways than one. Of course, like the wind, she isn’t a solid to be held on to. One moment she’s on top of you, skilled and firm and perfect, the next... gone.

And yet, it’s hard for two people regularly doing all the things you do not to grow closer to each other in the process. You have come to know the infamous assassin of Noxus, what she likes, what triggers her. So tonight you are sure something has ticked her off, judging by how fast your shirt and bra are damn near ripped off your torso.

Teeth latch on the spot underneath your jaw that never fails to make you weak. She sucks –hard– and you gasp out her name in a sound torn between begging and warning. The low chuckle that comes right by your ear makes you dig your nails into her toned biceps, the contours of which you can feel through her black, form-fitting blouse. You wish the smug bastard didn't turn you on so powerfully, alas. 

The haze of your mind hardly lets you notice when your knees hit the mattress. You only register that you are horizontal underneath her when she pulls back to look down at you, admiring her handiwork through darkened, smokey emeralds. 

A smirk as sharp as her knives curls her lips. “It really suits you, you know. Being at my mercy.”

Except she's known to show none. 

Syndra takes whatever she wants the moment she wants it. ‘No’ is a foreign word to her and certainly not one you think to say when she shows up out of nowhere, grabs you by the shoulder, then pushes you through a portal straight into her room. By the time the nausea dies down, your back is already against a wall, her succulent, dark-painted lips molded in-between yours. 

She always tastes of raw arcane. Every hungry kiss, every electric touch, every inch of her lithe body. Everything about her is limitless magic and unrestrained power, as addictive as the most potent drug. Against all common sense, you’re already hooked on her, wholly and completely. No matter how many times you have her, you can never get enough. 

If asked how this ordeal began, you have no answer to give. One moment you were stuck in a boring league event exchanging quips about Ionia with a white-haired, noble-looking woman –insufferably arrogant, but undeniably hot in her purple, slit dress. The next, she was sucking your tongue like a lollipop in an empty room. She took her pleasure on your fingers, then left you to gape after her as she opened a portal to a distinct fortress floating in the sky; the home of the Dark Sovereign. 

“Nothing smart to say now?” 

She repeats the words of your first time together against your mouth. Her hand slides up your chest to lock firmly around your neck, manicured nails biting ever-so-slightly in, guiding you down onto her queen-sized bed. She defies gravity with how gracefully she climbs on top. Two darkly-shining spheres trap your hands over your head while strong, warm, stocking-clad thighs squeeze your lower half into submission. 

“I prefer you quiet, anyway.” she smirks. “And completely at my mercy.” 

Elise likes to corner you. A lot. Whether it is in empty alcoves or the dark caverns where Black Rose meetings take place, she will block your path and slowly walk you back against the nearest wall. That is where you find yourself again, trapped between chitinous spider limbs and her forearms at either side of your head, her breath ghosting by the shell of your ear. Your heart thunders in your chest –the blood is rushing straight between your legs– and you're sure she can feel it. 

She's smiling. Enjoying this. You know she is. Elise appreciates having total control outside and inside the bedroom. She is an apex predator and you her willing victim; the fly that felt the spider's teeth scrape its skin and somehow survived, only to become addicted to the sensation. Every moment spent lost in her  is another date with danger, but that's what makes it so intoxicating. 

The inches of height she has on you bring your mouth level with the inviting crook of her neck, just at the ends of her chic crimson hair. The marble skin there calls to you like a siren. Her expensive perfume cocoons you in raw desire for her. Before you realize what you're doing you are worshiping her pulse point and she chuckles into your ear.

"Eager, are we?" she coos, long fingers winding through your hair to tilt your head back, so her mouth hovers above yours like sweet poison that's just about to drip. "I do like that."

A kiss comes; deep and sinful. One that is deceptively honeyed, if not for the bite on your upper lip as you part. Her hands push down on your shoulders and your knees touch the cold ground, but you do not much care. Not when her fingers curl under your chin and guide it on her thigh, at the gaps of her outfit. 

“Good.” she praises. “Don't you forget that is your place; on your knees between my legs, entirely at my mercy.” 

Evelynn is unpredictable on her best days. The idol could come up to you simply to link your arms as you walk through a crowd because she's feeling possessive, then ignore you for the rest of the day. Likewise, she may lean into your ear in public, whisper the kinkiest, hottest thing imaginable, then maintain her aloof poker face while you ache for her for hours. 

Tonight her hand –absent the ring-claws, thankfully– is firm on your stomach, walking you back until you are pressed against the hood of her Lamborghini. She teases her dark, glossy mouth just above yours the entire time, enticing you with what you can have as a reward if you play nice. Her creamy thigh slides between your legs like smoke, locks you against her heat and the cool metal of her car. 

Whining her name and straining to kiss her only earn you a lethal smirk. Evelynn instead traps your chin between a thumb and pointer, turns it the other way so you bare your neck to her like an offering. Plush, full lips brand your already heated skin, before pearly teeth join in to set your stomach on fire. Her expensive scent, her ministrations, her perfect body, they're almost too much to handle at once. 

Satisfied after you are sufficiently marked as hers, she guides you by the chin into the liplock you've been craving. The sensation of kissing her is otherworldly; like you're suspended on a dark cloud, in a world of promises dripping sin. The hand on your stomach pushes you more firmly, in a way that would make the edges of the car behind you hurt if pain didn't only enhance pleasure in this moment. Then her nails bite into your skin a little, drag down to the belt of your pants… 

“You're such a pretty sight like this, darling.” she grins. “I do so love to have you at my mercy.”

LeBlanc is a secret shrouded in smoke and mirrors. You never know what to expect with her, if she will act indifferent towards you as if you have never tasted the dark velvet lipstick on her lips, or find her way into your room in the dead of night to keep you up for hours. It is her name that leaves your throat hoarse the following day, but you can never know if she was ever really with you, or if it was all another illusion. 

Even now, with her cool, long fingers slithering down your bare stomach –gods, the tremors her touch leaves in its wake– another set of hands undressing you from behind, rubbing teasing circles on your shoulders while two mouths suck languorously on opposite sides of your neck, you aren’t sure which is the clone. Maybe they both are. The real her could be sitting at a darkened corner of her room, admiring the view with a glass of wine in hand. You want to banish the thought that she may not even be here.

Then again, perhaps there is no use seeking her out at all. As she has told you, there is little difference between herself and her clones. She is her duplicates and she is everywhere. Right this moment, she is everywhere around you. On you. In you. All you can smell is the subtle spice of her perfume as she tugs your hair to expose more of your neck to her. All you can see is her burning violet gaze and her sultry smirk that makes you ache for a kiss. If this is nothing but a dream, you still don’t ever want to wake up. 

Instead, you open your mouth to ask for more, yet her finger has already silenced you. LeBlanc leans close, close enough that you can feel the vibration of her voice on your lips;

“My greedy girl.” she coos. “You love this, don’t you? Knowing every inch of you is at my mercy...” 

#league of legends x reader #katarina x reader #elise x reader #syndra x reader #evelynn x reader #leblanc x reader #fanfiction #katarina du couteau #spicy #league of legends #SylverStorms #creative writing #lgbtq #kda evelynn

[anxiouspineapple99]

Just a Little Ghost Story

By: @clonemedickix

The derelict Venator was a gold mine for scavenging electronics and old supplies. What ammunition hadn’t cooked off in the fires following the crash were still locked within their cushioned bays, precious metals such as copper and gold were still peeking out of walls undisturbed by time or touch. Icy wind whipped at the edges of the broken and shattered hull, sometimes catching an object well enough to disturb its rest, but for the most part, the once proud ship sat in silence, waiting to be discovered, or hoping to rest in peace.

The young woman crawled carefully through the old hull, harvesting the rich finds as she went, placing items in her bag to carry home. She might be here picking through this wreckage for days; she had more than one container to store her bounty in, and a sturdy freighter to fly back to her home planet. The girl was never bothered by being alone. She lived in solitude when she worked, and enjoyed the quiet as she explored old crash sites for recoverable items. The credits made off this haul would help her little sister get the starship and education she was hoping to one day attain. The creaking and groaning of the settling hulks she worked in were like the sighs and grumbles of an old friend; she tuned them out for the most part, but was ever on alert for warning signs that the area she worked on was unstable. She’d heard things that were unexplainable sometimes. Often the source was made clear after probing and careful progress, but there were times that a reason for the whispers, the softly spoken words, were never clarified. The young scavenger always did her best to show proper respect for the sites she visited; many of them were crash sites where lives had been lost. It would not do to insult the memory of the dead. 

The girl’s name was Rhaella, and she moved from wreck to wreck, following the signature of copper deposits, which was a rare enough metal in their galaxy to bear notice on a scanner. She’d come across this old Venator on her way home, thinking her trip was going to be a bust. It appeared the ship had never been discovered by other scavengers, so this was a truly lucky find - she had first dibs. She’d come to the surface of the unnamed moon cautiously, not knowing what the atmosphere would be like, whether there were inhabitants or other important details. This was an unknown place, as far as the maps knew. The onboard ship sensors reported the air was breathable, though cold. She would need her snow gear for this salvage.

Landing her ship near the crushed hull of the old Jedi cruiser, she surveyed the damage quietly. It had taken quite a beating, one of the command superstructures completely gone, large holes blown out of the sides and rear of the ship as if the engine plant had exploded. Atmospheric re-entry had devastated the hull; none aboard would have survived the crash. The ship had plowed a long trail of wreckage and refuse behind in its wake; she would inspect that later. 

As she walked around the prow of the ship, she saw it’s name painted in faded Aurebesh on the side. The Tribunal. They’d had some strong, powerful names for their ships, she remembered. Bold monikers that would inspire awe and respect in the masses. Continuing on, she noticed something poking out of the snow, placed in regular rows in the shadow of the broken hull. Coming closer, Rhaella stopped with a small gasp. Helmets. Clone trooper helmets, placed on makeshift pikes and stuck into the earth in neat rows. Someone had taken the time to recover the bodies from the wreckage and bury them with respect. Rhaella paused, listening to the wind whip snow around, passing through the eaves and halls of the old, crushed ship with low moans and whistles. So she wasn’t the first visitor, after all, unless someone had survived the crash and buried these troopers as friends. Whichever it was, the girl stood for a moment, taking in the solemnity and obvious care given to the departed. 

She wondered what kind of men they were in life. Rhaella had never met a clone trooper before; she’d heard they were all very handsome super soldiers, cloned from a Mandalorian bounty hunter and bred solely to fight for the Republic. The helmet she stood before had an impressive, carefully done paint job with the old Republic rondel proudly on the center brow. The clones were gone now; the Republic was gone now. But clearly this clone had been proud of the people he had served. 

The Empire had been in place for a handful of months, and so far no one she knew was impressed. People seemed more afraid than happy; inflation ran rampant as people hoarded necessities and families went hungry. Rhaella had heard that the clones had been the very instrument of the fall of the Jedi; they’d turned on them to a man to execute them for treason. The girl sighed. They didn’t sound very loyal, if they could so suddenly turn on the very generals they’d been fighting alongside for three years. Giving the small graveyard a respectful nod, she whispered a soft prayer that her friend had taught her to thank the dead for their sacrifice, then she moved on, feeling that she’d shown proper regard for the souls lost on this site. 

Rhaella carefully picked her way into the interior of the old star destroyer, glancing up at the high walls and realizing she would need her rappelling equipment. She set her bag down on the floor and dug through it to unload her harness, rope and clips that would help her climb the walls and stay secure as she investigated what parts were salvageable. After tugging the final strap of the harness tight, she reached into a pocket and removed a small ear bud that would let her listen to music and any comms that came from the ship. Rhaella never wanted to be out of pocket if her family called for her; they would worry. She clicked on some music and then set about to find a stable route to the top of the hull.

A few hours later, she had a full bag of valuable wiring and electronics parts that she could sell. She would have to make her way down and back to her ship, the Tecova. Her satchel was too heavy and full to keep working, and she was hungry and cold. She could use a break. As she grabbed her rope release at her hip, she heard a voice over her music say, “Have you seen the Captain?”

The voice was clear and present enough to startle Rhaella, and she squeezed the release harder than she should have, dropping herself nearly thirty feet in seconds and almost crashing to her feet. Her heart plummeted to her stomach at both the rush of her mistake and how real the voice had sounded. Stopping her descent a mere ten feet off the ground, she took a few gasping breaths, steadying herself before reaching for the hull and stable footing. Rhaella quickly disconnected herself from her rappelling line and glanced around the empty space, wondering if she’d missed the presence of a person while she’d been hanging above the floor working. She saw no one; she was alone. She took a few more breaths, telling herself it was just the wind playing tricks with her mind, and then turned to walk back to her ship.

The girl had to admit, she was unnerved by how close that voice had sounded. There was no possibility of it being an actual human; she’d been hanging above the old fighter hanger with no floor beneath her for at least one hundred feet. No one could have been up there with her without a rope, or some type of magic she’d never heard of. After eating and resting, she emptied her bag and geared up to start working again, trudging back through the snow and following her path from earlier. The memory of the unnerving voice still made her skin crawl a little, but she shook it off and got back to her rope. She climbed back up to near where she’d been working earlier, her music pumping through her small ear bud while she hummed softly to herself, pushing the nervous butterflies from her mind.

She found stable footing on an old gantry that had once run along the wall of the massive hangar, and sat for a while, though she remained secured to her rope for safety. Rhaella always carried small snacks and water for energy replenishment, and while she took her short break, she nibbled at the bar of food, picturing what the ship must have looked like before she came to this sad end. She imagined it had been bustling with activity, loud with the noise of mechanics and clone soldiers shouting to each other, messages barking over the loudspeakers with updates and orders. She’d seen pictures of the clone troopers in their armor before, and in her mind she watched as they crossed the deck proudly, laughing at stories they told each other, encouraging each other for their next mission. 

She was dreamily humming along with a song while seeing the activity in her mind, when she heard, “Did Commander Tano get away?” Rhaella instinctively turned to the speaker and screamed when she saw the face of a man with a strange tattoo sitting next to her, his face earnest with the question he’d just asked. She scrambled to her feet and made to jump from the gantry, but when she looked back, there was no one there. Her action had made the small platform groan and screech at the sudden shift of her weight, and she worked to calm herself so she didn’t cause it to collapse. Rhaella gulped at the air, trying to lower her heart and respiratory rate; the panic she felt was threatening to suffocate her. Voices were one thing in her line of work, but seeing things was not; she’d never come up against what must be a spirit before. She felt some semblance of control return, and she carefully moved back to where she’d been sitting, her hand running over the gridded deck like it might burn her. 

Feeling a little braver, Rhaella laughed at herself, and said out loud, “Okay, ghosties… I can’t work with you scaring me like that, or I’ll end up one of you. How about you tone down the fear factor?” There was no reply but the howling of the wind outside, as it blew past the damaged structure of the ship. Rhaella shrugged and went back to sitting quietly, listening for anything unnatural to make itself known. She waited for nearly half an hour, then got ready to resume working, pulling herself back to a standing position.

“I’m sorry for scaring you…,” she heard a soft voice say from the area behind her.

Rhaella held her breath. The voice was actually interacting with her, not the wind playing tricks on her ears. She steadied herself, closing her eyes and taking a few breaths before looking up to see who was speaking. Green eyes met a pair of beautiful, sad brown eyes that were almost solid, but somewhat transparent. It was a young man, a handsome young man, wearing blue and white armor that was scuffed and cracked in multiple places, burn marks marring the plates here and there. He’d most likely had pleasing tan brown skin once, but now was ghostly pale, his old Republic roundel tattoo a faded black. The man stared at her silently, his feet resting on a part of the gantry floor that wasn’t really safe for weight bearing, but seemed to not notice the obvious bulk of the soldier resting on it. 

Rhaella was staring at a ghost. A karking, no joke ghost. And it had spoken to her - was in fact waiting for her to reply. The odds of that, the sheer astounding nature of this whole interaction both fascinated and terrified her.“I…um…,” she stammered. “I’m okay, I guess. Who are you?,” she blurted finally. 

“I’m Jesse,” he said in his soft voice. 

Rhaella was in uncharted territory. How was one supposed to speak to a ghost? Did he know he was a ghost? Did he remember how he died? He seemed to be looking for two different people, if his previous questions were any indication. The man seemed to be as lost as she was, reaching out for contact but unsure of how best to go about it.

“Do you have a name?,” he asked quietly.

“I, uh, yeah. Rhaella. It’s Rhaella.” She swallowed and realized her mouth had gone completely dry in shock at this interaction. Was she supposed to offer her hand to shake? How was one supposed to greet a ghost they’d only just met? She opted for making small talk, while her mind turned at a blistering pace, trying to decide if she should run, or stay. “How, um… how did you get here, Jesse?” 

He was clearly a clone trooper, most likely belonging to one of the bodies planted in the cold soil outside. She vaguely remembered seeing a helmet that matched his facial tattoo. He must have been important to the person who’d buried him; they’d placed his grave in the center front of all the others. 

“The ship crashed. We were fighting the Sith and the Jedi, and the hyperdrive failed…,” he paused, his forehead wrinkling slightly as he reached for the memory. “I think the ship started to break up when we entered the atmosphere. The men, my brothers… Have you seen Captain Rex? Did Commander Tano get away?” 

She recognized the two names he’d already mentioned earlier in his repeated question. “I don’t know those names, Jesse. I, uh… I’m here to salvage what I can from this wreck, to take back for sale, for credits.” She hoped he didn’t feel she was robbing his grave, or that her actions hadn’t disturbed him from his sleep.

“You don’t know the Captain? What about the Jedi? Could you ask them?” He looked progressively more and more upset, and Rhaella’s heart broke for the handsome young man. He had no idea, clearly, that the Republic and the Jedi were as dead as he was.

“Jesse, the Jedi are gone. Their Order was destroyed by the clone troopers the day they tried to assassinate Emperor Palpatine. The Republic is gone too - we live in the Galactic Empire now. There are no Jedi…” She felt awful, having to explain this to the clone.

“They’re gone? No! They can’t be. It was all a horrible mistake! They can’t be gone.” He broke off, staring off into the distance and murmuring about Captain Rex and Commander Tano again. Rhaella felt almost like she was watching something private, embarrassed at his distress.

After a few moments, she edged her way towards the wall, wanting to get back down from her perch. While the ghost was pleasant and even nice to look at, she was deeply uncomfortable with his presence and still afraid of the possibilities. What if he turned on her? What if her answers or lack thereof upset him further and he used some ghostly power on her to hurt her? She didn’t know; she’d never encountered a real ghost before. She had no idea what to expect. Rhaella had just gotten her foot set and was ready to push off, letting the rope take her weight when she heard Jesse call out behind her, “Wait!”

Turning her head back to look at him, she found him startlingly close to her again. Personal space was evidently not a thing in the realm of ghosts. Rhaella gave a chuff of surprise and gripped her rope carefully; she didn’t want another slip up like the previous trip. The clone looked at her a little desperately, a hand out tentatively as if he were thinking of touching her arm. Rhaella stared at his not quite solid hand, wondering curiously if she would be able to feel his touch. 

“Please, don’t leave. I’ve been alone for so long…,” his soft baritone was heartbreaking with his plea. “I won’t hurt you. Maybe we could just…talk?” 

Rhaella stared into his sad brown eyes, feeling he wasn’t trying to trick her. He seemed like any other person would be, that was tired of being alone. She stopped moving for a minute, thinking about whether it was safer to stay put a bit longer, or run for her life. Mentally a part of her screamed out a hysterical giggle that she was talking to a ghost, and contemplating sitting down and spending time with it, no less! Objectively, hurrying a person on a rappelling line wasn’t the safest thing she could do; she took a deep, steadying breath and decided to sit back down for a bit. See if this Jesse was even able to keep this appearance up for much longer. Rhaella thought she saw actual relief on his face as she relented. She settled back onto her perch carefully, her eyes speaking volumes about her readiness to just roll off the ledge and pray to the Maker she could catch herself with her safety before bouncing off some jagged piece of wreckage, while trying to get away.

Jesse seemed to sense her hesitation and fear, and he backed off, moving to the far edge of the little gantry. “Thank you, Rhaella,” he said in his soft, slightly accented tones. 

“Don’t mention it,” Rhaella murmured a bit wryly. This whole situation was a bit ludicrous, but he was such a polite ghost. 

“You said the Republic is gone. For how long?,” he asked carefully. 

She was a little afraid to tell him he’d been here for nearly five months. “It’s been about 4-5 months since the day the Republic fell,” she answered him slowly, watching his reaction a little hesitantly. 

Jesse said nothing for a long time, his face sad. Finally he moved, appearing to sit on the ledge, though he more or less floated on nothing. “So you’re saying the Jedi are all dead?” He looked a bit stricken, as if he felt partially responsible. 

“Some escaped. There’s these Jedi hunters called Inquisitors that go around looking for them now. The Jedi are all considered enemies of the Empire though, and anybody that sees one is supposed to turn them in.” Rhaella watched the ghost warily; she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Was he truly alone here, or were there more of his ghost brothers to keep him company? How awful if he was really all by himself. He didn’t speak for a long time, as if slowly digesting what she’d told him. “Who is the Captain you’re looking for, and… Tano? Commander Tano?” Jesse’s gaze met hers as she spoke.

“Captain Rex was my clone commander and friend.” His face was a picture of grief. “Commander Tano was the Jedi assigned to our mission. We went to Mandalore to free their world from the control of the crime boss, Darth Maul. I remember - we captured him… about tore the city of Sundari up to get him. He captured me, too, but let me go for some reason…” He paused, trying to pull the threads of memory back into some kind of readable tapestry. “We were on our way back to Coruscant with Maul when Order 66 went out.”

Rhaella was listening patiently, but she’d never heard of Order 66 before. “What was that?,” she asked curiously.

“What?,” he asked her back, unsure of what she meant.

“Order 66. What was Order 66?,” she clarified.

“Oh. Well, this guy called Darth Sidious sent out an encoded message to all the clone commanders to execute the Jedi for treason. Captain Rex got the order, and charged us to find Commander Tano and Darth Maul, and execute them. We tried to get Ahsoka early on, but she got away from us.” His voice trailed off, as he continued to search for the memories. “I think Captain Rex changed his mind about the order though… I think I remember him helping her, and us accusing him of treason.” Jesse looked stricken at the thought. 

It made sense that the two leaders had survived somehow; after all, someone thoughtful and seemingly knowledgeable had buried all the bodies after the crash. Rhaella said nothing as Jesse brooded. She was starting to get cold sitting with him, high in the bowels of the old cruiser. She shifted her weight a bit, trying to stretch her legs as best as she could. He didn’t seem to notice; Jesse was worlds away reliving the last moments of his life. She wondered what he had been like as a living soul. He was definitely handsome; her mind wondered at what Coruscant must have looked like with thousands of these men wandering the streets. Nowadays, it was so rare to find a clone that it brought notice purely because of its rarity. 

She had to stand; if she let her muscles cramp up she’d be in a real pickle trying to rappel back to the ground. Jesse’s head came up when she got to her feet, stiffly. Rhaella saw his look, and said, “I need to warm up. I’m cold and getting stiff, and hungry.” She saw his expression start to break at the fear of her leaving, and rushed to cut him off. “I’ll come back! I’m not done here. I just…can’t stay here as long as you.” How to politely discuss the dead’s lack of physical needs?

Jesse pursed his lips unhappily, but nodded to Rhaella. “I’m sorry I kept you so long. I forget it’s cold here…” His voice trailed off, as he looked away across the cavernous, destroyed hangar. “Please come back,” he begged her softly. 

Rhaella looked at him flatly and got her rope taught, her feet positioned to step off the ledge. “I’ll come back, Jesse, I promise.” She saw him nod, and she hit the release at her hip, walking herself carefully down the wall back to the ground. 

Maker, she was stiff from sitting up there all afternoon. She had two full bags of salvaged scrap; technically she could leave with what she had. It wouldn’t be as full a bounty as she had been planning on, but she didn’t have to stay. Reminiscing with ghosts wasn’t part of her job description. But. He seemed so sad, and compelling, like someone she might have liked in a different life. And she had promised him she would be back. Rhaella took a quick shower and settled in for the night to sleep; she would keep her word. Besides, this haul would most likely push her earnings over that which was needed for her sister’s tuition and ship, and she couldn’t pass that up.

Rhaella woke the next morning to a weak sun shining through the windscreen of the Tecova. It didn’t promise any increase in warmth, but she knew it was time to get moving. She put on her cold weather gear and rappelling harness, and tied her boots snugly, grabbing her satchel to head back to the ship. This time when she passed the little clone graveyard, she paused to look at the worn helmets more carefully. Sure enough - the helmet foremost in the center had the same Republic rondel as Jesse’s facial tattoo. It had to be his spot. She stared at it mutely for a minute, her mind deep in thought.

“Do you think if you stare at that long enough, I’ll climb out of that hole?,” a dry, softly muted voice asked right at her side.

Rhaella made a very undignified sound and jigged a dance that made Jesse’s pale face light with an attractive smirk. Very faintly, she could hear him laughing at her. 

“That is SO RUDE, Jesse!,” she shouted at him, hoping her heart would return to a normal rhythm quickly. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that. Are you trying to make my heart stop?” Her tone clearly showed her level of annoyance at him for the breach in etiquette.

“Well, you were staring so hard at my helmet, and it was really too perfect an opportunity to pass up…” His smile was incredibly endearing for a dead guy. “Besides, I don’t think you can exact revenge on the already deceased, so I figured I was pretty safe.”

“I could just leave, then. Because you’ve used up your allotment of jump scares with me, mister,” she said threateningly. Rhaella was somewhat satisfied to see Jesse’s look change to one of chastised amusement.

“Please don’t leave. It’s nice to have someone to talk to; I’ve been alone for a long time.” 

That triggered something that had been nagging her. “Why are you alone, Jesse? Where are the other spirits that should be with you? Someone took the time to bury all of you, so you obviously didn’t blink out by yourself.” 

“Truth be told, I don’t know who did this for us,” he said with a regretful shrug. “I wish I did. But as to why I’m alone, I guess I missed that particular boat. When the Guide came for my brothers, I either wasn’t paying attention or wasn’t here yet. I’ve been waiting ever since.” He stopped, his full lower lip jutting out slightly in a pout. “I guess she’s been busy, to have left me here. I would never have thought she would forget me.”

Rhaella looked over at him curiously. He was actually much harder to see outside the ship, in the brighter light. The sunlight made it more difficult to make out his lines or see the expression on his face, but she could tell he was sad as he mused about this entity that had not come for him. “Who is ‘The Guide’? I’ve never heard that title before.”

Jesse didn’t answer at first, and she was about to ask again when he spoke up. “General Lara Lin. The Guardian of the Balance, and the Guide of Souls. It’s her job to lead the worthy dead to the Undying Lands to be with our brothers. She and I were pretty good friends during the war, and she in fact married a clone commander in secret…” His voice trailed off for a moment as he thought. “She was with her own company of clones - the Dragon Company - the day Order 66 came out. I guess it’s entirely possible they killed her, too.” Jesse stopped speaking and stared at the helmets of his brothers, as well as his own, for a long time. 

“That’s a very interesting name,” Rhaella said in a leading tone, hoping to get Jesse talking again. “She was a Jedi, and yet had the power to lead souls to this ‘Undying Land’ you mentioned?”

“She was never a Jedi,” he said with a shake of his head. “She was a goddess. Tasked with maintaining the balance between the light and dark throughout the whole universe. She offered to help in the war, really just to try and save as many clones as she could, and the Jedi allowed it.” Jesse paused again; it seemed like it cost him more effort to manifest outside, remain visible and audible in the sun and wind. “They wanted her power, her fighting skills, but most of all, her dragon.” He saw Rhaella’s head come up in surprise and curiosity. Jesse smiled, a little pride in his eyes over having known this amazing woman. “She rode into battle on the back of a massive, black, fire breathing dragon. He was like having a super weapon with brains, on top of brawn. They accepted her help without much argument, so I guess she was guilty by association, just for helping the Jedi.”

“If she was a goddess, wouldn’t that make her immortal?” Rhaella was trying to wrap her head around the logic of this story, but then laughed at herself. She was standing here, talking to the ghost of a man who’d died months before, having a conversation like they were good friends. Maybe logic didn’t play into things as much as she’d previously thought.

“That’s what we all believed,” he said quietly. There was disappointment and perhaps even a little fear in his voice, as he considered the ramifications of her remaining alive, but not coming to lead him on to whatever land the dead went to. He just couldn’t believe that she could be dead, murdered by her own loyal clones.

A particularly hard gust of wind blew around the corner of the Venator’s prow, knifing its way through Rhaella’s snow gear. She instinctively wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, her teeth chattering a bit. Glancing at Jesse, she said, “I’ve got to get out of this wind. Come on, Jesse. I’ve got work to do. Walk and talk.” Rhaella moved into the ship’s interior quickly, working her way back to the spot she’d left the previous day. She worked steadily for hours, Jesse sticking close to her and often telling her what was behind the wall panels before she cracked it open. He was actually fairly useful as an assistant, and Rhaella found his company comforting and entertaining. He must have been a hoot to hang out with in life, she thought to herself while he nattered on about old times with his brothers. 

She finished another day with him, this time more companionably than before, as they chatted about the war, his life as a soldier, and her experiences both with the war and now the Empire. At one point he asked her if everything the clones had suffered through was for nothing - the Empire didn’t sound all that great. It didn’t seem that the lives of the galaxy had been improved through its work, and truly, he heard hints of dictator-like rule in her words. She shrugged. She was a nobody, her family of no consequence. They just wanted to make an honest living and enjoy life. She was here, salvaging this ship to help her sister cover the funds for a new star ship and tuition for higher education. Rhaella didn’t mind the work; in fact she rather enjoyed the sense of adventure and history as she crawled all over shipwrecks and crash sites. She’d learned a lot of things from the places she’d been, the artifacts she’d seen. It wasn’t a life many were lucky to have. 

But she couldn’t deny the things she’d heard about the Empire’s rule. The violence of the stormtroopers. The seeming unfairness of the laws that changed rapidly, practically on a daily basis. The feeling of unhappiness that pervaded the lands she’d been to. The citizens of the galaxy weren’t content with their lives, and the rumors and whispers always led back to the same cause: the Empire. It made her sad to think that everything Jesse and his brothers had been through - their creation in fact - was all for naught. Rhaella could tell the thought bothered the clone, as he retreated into himself after a while. 

It was getting late, and the temperatures were dropping. Rhaella lowered herself back to the ground level, and packed her things to head back to the Tecova. She glanced over at Jesse and invited him to go with her, get out of the cold, as naturally as if he were as real as she, and she stopped suddenly, her eyes widening in shock, afraid she had just insulted him mightily. “I’m so sorry, Jesse! I… didn’t think before I spoke.” She fell into silence, afraid she would see hurt in his ghostly brown eyes. Instead, she found humor.

“It’s okay, Rhaella. I can come with you, since you so kindly invited me. Though, I’m not very warm company,” he said with a smile and a shrug. 

Rhaella smiled back, cocking her head a little to the side. “You’re still company, and between you and me, I’ve enjoyed today.” She started walking towards her ship, Jesse’s spirit moving along with her, almost as he would have had he been material. When she got to the ramp, she hit the controls to lower it and gain access to the warm interior. She looked over, expecting to find her friend beside her, but Jesse was gone. She felt a crushing disappointment, that maybe he couldn’t leave the vicinity of the old Venator after all. Rhaella glanced at her boots for a moment, huffing softly in dismay, and climbed the ramp to head inside, making sure to stomp the snow off her boots as she went. 

The ramp closed behind her, sealing her into the climate controlled ship like a warm hug. Rhaella carefully unlaced her boots, removed her climbing harness, and then shrugged out of her heavy snow gear, hanging them to dry in the cargo area of the ship with practiced ease. She was down to just a layer of thermal under clothes with a set of overalls for pants, but felt comfortable moving about her very mobile home. She shrugged out of the suspender straps, letting them hang around her hips as she walked into the small commissary area, digging through the conservator for something to eat and drink. 

She was bent over riffling among the pantry shelves when she heard a voice drawl amusingly, “I must say, that’s an interesting look you have going on.” 

Rhaella squawked and jumped, bumping her head on the shelf above. She whirled around, finding Jesse in the room, seemingly leaning against the wall in a very lazy, playboyish manner, and yelled at him, “Jesse, quit karking scaring me like that, or I’ll disinvite you!” Huffing angrily as she slammed the meal container on the counter, she added, “And I’ll leave!”

Jesse laughed, having figured by this time she was going to do no such thing. “You’re cute when you make that noise,” he said, still giving every impression of holding up the wall of the ship with his handsome, muscled, but ghostly physique. 

“If you weren’t already dead, I’d throw knives at you,” Rhaella retorted, some humor evident in her voice. “It’s unfortunate that you’re so charming, and transparent.” She ran her eyes over his spectral body appraisingly. He’d have been so much fun to date, she thought to herself with a little smirk. 

Jesse chuckled softly. “But I am charming, and stunningly handsome. I used to have to beat pretty girls off with a stick, before…” 

“Yeah I bet that did nothing for your fat head though,” Rhaella muttered, somewhat to herself. 

“I’ll have you know, I was one of the most popular clones in the Grand Army of the Republic. Flocks of ladies wanted to hang out with me at 79s,” he bragged lightly.

Rhaella rolled her eyes a bit. “What’s ‘79s?’”

“Only THE best clone bar on Coruscant! My brothers from Torrent Company used to shut that place down, partying so hard. The Corries regularly had to come toss us out.” He smiled at the memories. “The place was amazing, all lit up with neon light, beautiful splashes of color everywhere - even the graffiti outside was pretty in its way. There were always beautiful women there…but truth be told, they tended to avoid our table.” His brown eyes were gazing off into the distance, reliving the nights of loud noise, laughter, dancing and booze.

“They didn’t like your tattoo and bragging on yourself, did they?,” she said with a smirk.

Jesse’s head snapped up in response to her little jab. “Ha, ha. Actually, it was because the General scared all of the competition away. Didn’t matter that she was only there for one clone - they didn’t like sitting near her.” He gave Rhaella a wry smile. 

“The same General that hasn’t come for you? That General?,” she asked a little archly.

“That General, yes. She was so…beautiful and like, lit up the whole bar just by being there. She would dance with us, laugh with us, play her crazy music from Earth, drink with us, like we were all the best of friends. Family, even.” His voice trailed off at the end, as if he couldn’t reconcile the General of that time with the one who’d left him here, forgotten and alone.

Rhaella could hear the tone of bitter confusion and disappointment in his voice. She sighed softly, feeling sorry for her ‘friend’, if that’s what you called him. She still had small moments where her inner person demanded to know what the heck she was doing, talking to him as if he were a real person. As she pulled her food out of the nanowave, she said, “Maybe it’s like you said, and something happened to her on the day of Order 66. Maybe she will still show up to get you.” Rhaella hoped so for his sake. 

She sat down at the small table in her commissary and ate her food, while Jesse moved to stand opposite her, watching her silently. She glanced up at him and briefly felt bad that he couldn’t share her meal. “I’d offer you something to eat, but…,” her words trailing off at the obvious, unspoken fact that he couldn’t.

“It’s okay. I’d rather watch you. It’s nice just to be with someone again.” He leaned against the wall across from her little nook and silently gazed at her.

Rhaella felt his gaze a little unnerving, though meant kindly. “Because staring at me while I chew is so entertaining…” Her conscience chided her for being slightly petty; the poor man was dead and so very alone, after all. She should cut him some slack. 

She scarfed her food down quickly in an effort to sidestep the issue, got up and put her trash and utensils away. Without thinking much, she moved to her bunk and got fresh clothes out, then walked to the refresher for a quick shower. Looking back she said, “I’m gonna clean up. You’re welcome to stay, so long as you stay… out here. No cheating and peeking through walls, okay?” After watching him do just that all day in an effort to help her locate valuable salvage items, she wanted to make the boundaries clear.

Jesse smiled back at her a little playfully. “Well, kriff, you figured me out.” He jerked his chin up, saying, “Go ahead. I’ll behave.”

Rhaella smiled back sincerely. “Thank you. I’ll be quick.” She was true to her word, though if he had peeked, he’d have seen her thousand yard stare as she mechanically washed herself, while dreaming of what it might have been like to have such a man to hold, to shower with. He really was cute, even with the gaudy tattoo. His personality was open, frank and kind, while at the same time humorous. He’d have been fun to be around, she was sure. 

When she came back from the refresher, she looked for Jesse, expecting him to be in the same place she’d left him. When he didn’t readily appear, she called to him, wondering if he’d gone back to the Tribunal, or wherever he went when she wasn’t around. He didn’t answer, and she felt a surge of disappointment. Oh well, she thought. Guess I should get some rest while I have the chance. She snuggled into her small bunk, pulling the covers up to her neck and turned to face the wall. She sighed in comfort at finally being able to stretch out, even if the mattress was thin, and opened her eyes one last time while mentally reviewing her bedtime checklist. 

She was met with the sight of two spectral brown eyes staring back into hers and flinched the tiniest bit. By now she was more or less used to Jesse’s unpredictable appearances. She assumed he was doing it as something of a joke at this point, and he grinned at her mischievously. “If you were real, I’d have decked you right in that cute nose.”

“If I were real, it would be hard to punch me while I kissed you,” he said with a smile. 

“And who said I would let you kiss me?,” Rhaella sputtered back at him with a small laugh. 

“It’s just an inevitable thing - beautiful women can’t resist my smile.” He flashed her a winning smile and she laughed harder.

“Evidently beautiful women excluding that General you keep bringing up.”

Jesse chuckled. “She was a singular case. Besides, Rex would have probably never forgiven me if I tried.” 

“Rex? That Captain you’ve asked about several times? Your friend?” She seemed to recall that was one of the names he’d dropped when they first met. 

“Yes, Captain Rex. They were married in secret at the beginning of the war. Love at first sight. Luckiest clone I ever met.” He sighed a little remembering a life that had slipped away.

“You know, typically if a guy is interested in someone, he doesn’t fill the conversation up with talk of another woman. Just a little life tip,” Rhaella added dryly. 

“I should remember that for the next time I’m alive,” he said with a chuff. “You really are, you know.”

“What?” Rhaella was drifting off into sleep, unable to withstand the pull as her eyes closed. 

“Beautiful,” Jesse murmured. “Sleep well, Rhaella,” he said as her eyes closed and she gave out a peaceful sigh. 

Rhaella woke the next morning feeling mostly rested, with the odd sensation of having been held lovingly while she slept. She hadn’t been snuggled like that in years, not since her last boyfriend ghosted her. It was a warm, happy feeling, and she strongly suspected it had something to do with her new friend, which was strange considering he couldn’t manifest in such a way as to physically touch her. As she rolled over to get a glimpse of the weak, cold sun peaking through her windscreen, she wondered where he’d gone to. 

“You talk in your sleep,” she heard an amused voice quip from the area cockpit. 

“Well, polite people don’t generally point it out. Did no one ever teach you manners?” Rhaella climbed out of her bunk and moved to the refresher to start her day. 

“I recall that was an elective offered, but I wanted to learn how to blow things up, shoot well and study pick up lines more.” He was rewarded with a low snort from the midship behind him. He liked making her laugh; it made him feel almost alive again. “How long will you actually be here?,” Jesse asked casually, turning to stand and seeing her pulling her suspenders over her shoulders. The ghostly clone stopped to appreciate the image of her slowly snapping one of them tight, as she smiled at him a little coquettishly. He dreaded the thought of her leaving, when he would be alone again.

Rhaella’s face darkened a little at the question. “I’m not sure… a few more days at least. There’s only so much I can pack away on here before I end up over the weight limits, and after today’s haul, I’ll probably be far and away over my earnings goal.” She saw his face tighten, unhappy at the news that their time would come to an end sooner than later. “I was wondering, Jesse…is there anybody you can think of I could contact, that might be able to find that General? If she could help you, I mean.” She was loathe to leave him here alone; she already felt somewhat responsible for him, invested in his happiness. 

“I don’t know. Everyone associated with her was either a Jedi or a clone. If they all turned on her, I don’t know how you’d find her.” His face fell, the lack of options stinging a bit.

“Hmmm. Well, maybe something will come to us while we work. Or maybe we will just get lucky, and she’ll realize she left something important behind here.” For sure, Rhaella was sickened at the thought of Jesse having to remain here, when it was time for her to leave. 

After working for several hours without much in the way of conversation, Rhaella finally decided to ask Jesse something she’d been wondering. “Can you still touch things? I mean, like a solid person would?” Her look was full of simple curiosity, if not slightly out of a small - tiny - vein of selfish interest. 

Jesse laughed softy. “You’re wondering what it would feel like if I could touch you, aren’t you?,” he said with a playful, truly beautiful grin. Rhaella felt her heart skip a couple of beats, seeing his flirtatious smile. 

“Maybe a little… It felt like you had, when I woke up this morning.” She rushed to qualify the statement at the naughty light that came into his eyes. “I mean, it felt like you held me while I slept. …It was … nice.” She looked at him a little hopelessly and shrugged.

He smiled again, though it was a softer, slightly bitter expression. “I can’t. I’m not alive, so nothing to be solid with.” His mouth curved up on one side and he added, “I guess what you felt was just my charming personality wishing it could have held you.”

Rhaella simply stared back at him, finding no words to say to that. It was heartbreaking, hearing him try to maintain some semblance of laughter and positivity at his situation. She felt for him badly, if not for herself and what she was missing out on. She decided to change the subject. “Your armor isn’t quite what I remember the clone trooper armor looking like. Why is it different?”

“I was an ARC Trooper. Special training, heavier armor with double pauldrons for protection. We were like clone commandos, but the lite version, heavier on tactical thinking.”

“I see. Were there a lot of ARC Troopers?,” she asked curiously.

“No. There were only about one hundred of us, in an army of millions. We got shared out between a lot of different units, depending on the mission. My Company produced quite a few ARCs, probably because Rex had gotten ARC Trooper training too, and knew the value of it, the qualities to look for in a candidate.” He sighed. “Rex was the closest thing to a father I ever knew. And a brother at the same time.” His voice was a little flat, acknowledging feelings for a man he’d never get to see again. 

“He sure sounds like a good leader, from all you’ve said. And a bit of a renegade too, if he got married to a general in secret. I’m not sure I’ve heard a story like that about the troopers - I thought you were all bred to obey orders without question.” She was a little startled when Jesse’s tone changed to one of slightly offended defensiveness.

“You know, we could think for ourselves. We weren’t just mindless drones with no feelings or wants of our own.” His face showed a heavy dose of bitterness. “People treated us like we were just numbers, even some of the Jedi. But to each other, we were brothers, individuals, with our own personalities, dreams, desires… That kind of thing used to make Fives so karking mad when he thought about it.” He huffed into a broody silence, starting at the wall in front of them.

“I’m sorry, Jesse. I didn’t mean to upset you. How could anybody see you as just a number after spending even five minutes with you?,” Rhaella asked gently. She wanted to reach out and comfort him so badly, and her hand moved before she thought better of it. All she felt was air. 

Jesse caught her gesture and smiled at her a little sadly. “Some people were good about treating us right. General Skywalker valued us as individuals. Master Yoda did too, supposedly. General Kenobi was always respectful, but then he worked with Cody, so there’s no question he knew we weren’t just copy paste robots. It’s that garbage thinking like the rest of the galaxy, that made me get this tattoo. Or Fives his. Or any of us really, decorating our armor, getting ink, picking our names. Because the Kaminoans did treat us like numbers, and called us by our CT numbers, never our names. They were so dehumanizing,” he said with something of a little snarl. 

“I’m glad there were some leaders that saw you as the men you were,” she said softly. 

The unlikely pair worked the rest of the day with minimal conversation, simply content with each other’s company. At the end of the day, as the sun started to set again and it got colder, Rhaella dropped down from the spot she’d been working on and got her gear stowed. She and Jesse headed back to the Tecova together, to warm up and rest. 

Thoughts on how she could help Jesse whirled in her mind. There had to be some small way she could reach out and find someone. She had some contacts that were on the shadier side of business; maybe they would have heard something about dealings with other clones or a missing Republic General. As she snuggled up in her blankets, with Jesse laid there next to her watching her sleep, her last thought was perhaps she could throw a random comm out into the Void on channel 00. Old stories told that that channel was heard by all manner of other creatures, even far away galaxies not yet explored. Her father had told her once that you could call up space whales using channel 00. Looking into Jesse’s warm but ethereal brown eyes as she drifted off, she thought to herself with a small smile, ‘If I can find a space whale on that channel, surely I can find a universe-traveling goddess of the dead.’

The next morning, as soon as she woke, she moved to the cockpit and comm box. Jesse wasn’t on the ship, and she wondered briefly where he’d disappeared to, but it made her little chore a little easier. She dialed in channel 00 and hesitated before she spoke. “This message is for General Lara Lin, wherever you are. ARC Trooper Jesse got left behind, and is all alone. Please find him and help him. He deserves better than this.” She stopped to think about her message for a minute… should she repeat it? Was she crazy for what she was doing, for a ghost? Had this all been a hallucination? The speaker crackled softly, almost as if someone had joined the line, and Rhaella held her breath. Nothing answered her back, however, and she let out her breath with a disappointed sigh. Well, she’d tried. She leaned over and ordered the computer to continue playing the message in bursts every hour. Maybe it would get picked up and sent on to some entity that could do something.

She got dressed and geared up, and went back to the ship to work. It was some time before she saw Jesse. She was quietly moving down old corridors, working her way into old rooms and chambers, looking for electronics that were in good enough shape to salvage. She shoved her way into one room and took note of her surroundings. It was a bunk room. It must have been the clone quarters on the ship, where the men were berthed. She heard a sound that could have been a sigh, and moved toward it. Sure enough, around a corner on a bunk that was still intact and fairly free from damage, sat Jesse. He was bent over, holding his face in his hands, and Rhaella could tell just by the set of his shoulders he was deeply upset, most likely crying. She almost left, wanting to spare him the embarrassment of being seen in a private moment, but as she turned to retrace her steps, he called her name.

“Rhaella, it’s okay. You don’t have to go.”

“You weren’t on the Tecova this morning. Are you okay?,” she asked gently.

“No, I’m dead. And I’m stuck here alone, with no way to fix things!,” he said with his voice full of despair. 

She had no reply for that; he wasn’t wrong. There was nothing cute or funny about his situation, and she wished dearly that she could help him. She was startled to realize she had real feelings for this man, who wasn’t even alive. Rhaella was invested in what happened to him now. “How can I help you, Jesse? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? It hurts, seeing you suffer,” she said, her voice pleading. “I sent out a message on comm channel 00 this morning, asking for anyone to find the General and tell her you’re here and alone.” She saw his eyes lift to hers in surprise. “I mean,” she sputtered, feeling a little idiotic about it now, “my dad always told me you could contact space whales on that channel. If you can find a space whale, surely you can find a goddess?” She stopped talking suddenly, feeling like a fool as he watched her.

Jesse smiled softly after a moment. He was touched that she cared enough to try for him, but he had little faith that her efforts would be rewarded. “Thanks, Rhaella. Thank you for trying.” He stood and moved to stand in front of her. “I wish I could touch you, hug you.” He raised a hand to her upper arm, just at the point where it joined her shoulder, and fanned his fingers over her. They passed right through her, not even the slightest hint of his touch reached her. Jesse closed his eyes in despair and sighed, standing silent for a long time. “There’s an electronics room about four doors down on the left that has some good stuff. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll let you work alone today.” 

Rhaella was disappointed, knowing her day wouldn’t be filled with his playful, joking banter. His presence had already become important to her in the span of four days. A part of her couldn’t imagine her life without him now, as if she’d lived her entire life on this crash site with him. It was clear Jesse wanted to be alone, however, so she nodded and left him to continue working. He’d been right about the electronics room; she found a veritable gold mine of strippable tech, and filled her bag with the items before making her way back to her ship at the end of the day. It had felt very empty, working without him by her side.

As soon as Rhaella stepped inside the warmth of the Tecova, she looked up to see Jesse leaning against the wall, watching her. She gave him a little smile, simply happy to see him, and worked at getting out of her layers of clothes. Down to just her overalls and thermals again, she got herself some dinner, and sat down at the table. Jesse had watched her with a hunger that was slightly unnerving in its intensity. “You’re staring at me like a nexu tracking a chicken, Jesse. What’s up?”

“I can’t help it. You’re just…beautiful. And quite attractive in those overalls with the suspenders down around your hips.” Her eyes came up in surprise at the baldness of his stated attraction. “You have no idea how badly I wish I could touch you right now.” 

Her mouth had gone dry at the sincerity and need in his voice, and her body actually gave a lurching throb at the immediately lustful thought of where that touch might lead. Only a blind fool would deny that Jesse was handsome and had the body of a god, even if it was immaterial and nonphysical. Rhaella stared back at him mutely, the wheels turning in her mind so obvious to him that Jesse smirked at her a little triumphantly. 

“Dammit, Jesse, what am I supposed to do with that knowledge?! Now I won’t be able to function with that in my head!” She stood as she pounded her fists on the table in annoyance and stalked over to the refuse bin to dispose of her trash and clean her utensils. She cleaned the fork, knife and spoon with angry, curt movements that spoke volumes about her level of aggravation and sexual frustration, thanks to his confession. Drying them, she half slammed them back in their drawer, shooting daggers with her eyes at Jesse from behind the sink. Finally she jerked her gaze away and sighed. “I’m going to get a shower. ALONE. Sans a partner. And if it takes me a while, you just remember it’s your damn fault.” 

Rhaella saw with some satisfaction that his eyes widened in surprise, as he tried to puzzle out if that was an invitation or merely a statement of fact. She smiled as she kicked off the overalls, revealing her form beneath, sheathed only in thermal underwear. She walked over to her bunk and collected clean clothes and a towel, then seemed to pause a brief moment to think. Jesse watched in silent awe as she reached down for the hem of her thermal shirt and pulled it over her head, dropped it to the floor, then shimmied out of the thermal leggings. Rhaella picked up her bundle of clean garments and turned to face him, a truly wicked little gleam in her eyes. She walked towards him as he stood, his arms crossed over his chest, his brown eyes wide and feasting on the view in front of him. “Excuse me. I need past you.”

Jesse stepped aside, cocking an eyebrow at her as she gave him an imperious little nod and walked by. She knew he was staring at her butt, and heard him give out a little huff of surprise at the tattoo on her back. It was a type of panther that lived on her home world, striped in an exotic way and reaching out with one claw tipped paw to snatch at someone, it’s mouth open in a snarling roar, showing it’s fangs. “Like what you see?,” she asked him a little coyly. 

“You’re a cruel, cruel woman,” he said, his voice a little gruff. She saw him swallow thickly, shifting a little uncomfortably, but still staring at her cute little tush. 

“Come tell me that in here, then.” The water was warm as she stepped under it, and she somehow felt rather than saw his presence behind her in the refresher. She lathered up her hair with shampoo, holding the sudsy mop up and showing him the back of her neck, where the cat’s tail ended in a curl, just at the nape of her hairline. He’d not noticed it before because of her thick pony tail. Rhaella picked up the bar of soap and ran it over the curves of her body, making sure to shoot little glances his way as the bar glided over her smooth surfaces. She saw Jesse’s Adam’s apple bob slightly as he swallowed again around a mouth gone dry with ghostly lust. “I wish you could touch me right now, too,” she said in a rather sultry tone.

“You could touch yourself, though…,” he murmured. 

“I could, couldn’t I?,” she said with a playful smirk. She ran her fingers over her full, perky breasts, feeling the nipples rise, imagining it was his touch rather than hers. She heard him sigh with want, even as she sighed with arousal. “You like that?,” she asked him, her voice purring.

“I do. Those are some nice boobs, so soft, so bouncy. I’d play with them for hours. I’d suck and lick those perky little nipples until you slapped me away.” His eyes were so dark now from passion, she could barely tell the different between his pupils and irises, and she knew he was not making it up.

“And what about…here? If I touched myself here, what would you want to do?,” she asked as her fingers trailed down her stomach to her center, gently playing over her swollen clit and slick folds. She was so turned on by this man who couldn’t even physically touch her, she was surprised she wasn’t already having a runaway climax at how weirdly erotic this byplay was. 

Jesse moaned softly, his lips slightly open as if he could already taste her, smell her aroused scent. He watched as she moved her index finger around her clit in tight little circles, sighing in pleasure at her own touch. She propped one foot up on a small footstool in the shower, to give herself better access, and he saw her slip two fingers inside of herself, curving them to hit that perfect spot. Rhaella’s head tipped back in pleasure and she moaned softly to herself. Jesse’s heart burned at not being able to partake, or feel what she felt. She was so beautiful, so kind to him, and he wanted to be able to pleasure her, give her this rather than make her do it herself. But she seemed to be fully enjoying it, showing off for him, so he drank in the sight of her fucking herself with her own delicate fingers. He could see she was so wet for him she was dripping, and it did things to his mind as he watched. 

Rhaella’s senses were exploding, so turned on by this exhibition for Jesse. Her body screamed at her in frustration that he wasn’t the one kissing her, touching her, fucking her with his fingers. She longed for his lips on hers, or his tongue on her clit. Her body cried out for the sensation of him sucking at her gently, burying his face in her sex and fondling her breasts. The mental images of him doing these things drove her over the edge, and as she felt her own touch caress her G spot and circle her clit just so, Rhaella suddenly felt the tightly bound coil within her snap. She came with something almost like a roar, the scream tearing from her throat, while with her imagination she felt and saw Jesse holding her against his body as he thrust his hard cock into her over and over, losing himself in a hot jet of release within her warm body. For a moment the vision was so real she could truly feel it, lost within the dream, but then she felt her knees give out and she slid to the floor of the shower in a crumpled, exhausted heap, her eyes closed in bliss. 

“You’re gonna drown down there…,” she heard him say a little dryly, his voice still husky with excitement. 

“I’d die happy though, and just maybe we could really do that, if we were both ghosts?” She cracked one eye open to peek at him from her spot on the floor.

He smiled at her wryly. “I’m not sure it works that way, but I’m game if you are.” He laughed softly. “Come on, I don’t want you to drown, even for the price of mind blowing sex with that body of yours. Get dry and let me give a very poor impression of snuggling you while you sleep.” He watched as she stood slowly, shakily, and turned off the water, then toweled off. She got dressed and headed to her bunk, where she got under the covers and looked into his mesmerizing brown eyes. 

Rhaella could feel sleep stealing up behind her, to tow her under its dark cloak. As her eyes grew heavy and she drifted off, she whispered, “I think I love you, Jesse.”

“It’s the tattoo, I know.” He was rewarded with a sleepy giggle as she let go and sighed in sleep. He knew she couldn’t hear him, but Jesse whispered back to her. “I think I love you, too, Rhaella.”

On the last day, as Rhaella packed her gear and secured all the salvaged scrap in the hold of her ship, Jesse sat at her table in the midship area, silently watching her. They were both so broken up over this farewell; she was almost willing to tell him kriff it, I’ll just live here with you! The feelings in her heart were confused and frantic, but she was pretty sure now she loved him - a man she couldn’t touch, who had no corporeal body, but whose soul was the most kind and genuine that she’d ever met before. 

There had been no word on the comm channel, and Rhaella assumed that her plea had gone into the Void completely unheard and unnoticed. No one would be coming to help Jesse, and it made her feel shattered and sick. Tears filled her eyes as the thoughts whirled in her head, and she quickly sniffled softly and wiped at her cheeks, hoping he didn’t see. Crying over the situation wouldn’t help, she grumbled at herself mentally. Don’t make him feel worse than he already does. 

Rhaella had a couple items stacked just inside the old Venator that she needed to get, before she could leave. She got her cold weather gear on, and walked outside to collect them, Jesse following quietly behind. It took her a few trips, but on the last, she stopped in front of his helmet one last time. She felt his presence as he stood next to her. 

“I wish I could have met you in another time and place, Jesse,” she said softly.

“Because the thought of what I could have done to your body if we had, is going to haunt you for the rest of your life, isn’t it?,” he replied with his typical naughty grin.

Rhaella laughed. “It probably will,” she agreed. She turned to him, wanting to see his eyes. “I’m glad I met you, no matter how much or what I’ll regret down the line. And I’ll keep trying to find that general, to get you help. I’ll come back here to check on you. I won’t leave you alone, Jesse, I promise.” Her eyes again welled with tears at the awful thought of leaving, seeing his broken expression playing across her mind.

“I’ll be okay, Rhaella,” he said gently, reaching out to touch her shoulders, then putting his hands back down. 

“But I won’t be,” she said thickly, tears rising in her eyes. 

They stood before the little gravesite for a good while, the cold wind whipping around the edges of the ship’s hulk. She didn’t even notice the cutting blasts in her misery. As she was about to turn back to her ship, there was a distant call on the wind. It sounded like a scree, and a soft barking roar. Jesse seemed to have heard it too, and both looked up to the sky, hunting for the source of the sound. Jesse’s face lit up with something like joy, and he looked to Rhaella excitedly. “I think that might be my ride finally come to get me.”

Rhaella’s eyes widened with surprise and hope. Could it be? Could her message have gotten through after all? She heard the faint rustle of great leathery wings and saw a large black creature approaching from the distant rear of the Tribunal. It soared overhead, its massive bulk casting a great shadow over them, as the colossal animal over flew their position, his long tail streaming behind long after his body had passed over. It banked in the distance and came back, stretching his enormous feet toward the earth, his great talons curving into the snow and soil as he settled before them with a grumble like the tearing of metal. 

As the dragon lowered his head towards them, his great fiery golden eyes watching them knowingly, a slim, tall woman with a veritable mane of curly brown hair hopped off the giant creature, walking through the snow towards the pair. She was dressed in cream colored riding breeches with suede inner knee patches, and a pair of tall, worn brown riding boots that came to her knees. She had on a heavy hooded parka for warmth and the wind whipped the edges of the garment around her, lifting her curls and making them dance around her face. The woman had beautiful, luminescent blue eyes that were shining with warmth at Rhaella and Jesse, and her smile could have melted the moon’s snow. 

“You sure took long enough, General,” Jesse said with a laugh. He walked straight up to General Lin and hugged her, hearing Rhaella’s startled gasp behind him. He’d actually hugged the General. She had seen it; he had been able to make physical contact with her.

“I’m sorry for the delay, Jess,” she said with a soft drawling accent that surprised Rhaella, as she pulled away from the clone. “I’m sorry for everything, the whole damn mess. You all deserved better.” Lara looked at the woman standing awkwardly beside him, and smiled. “Who’s your friend?,” she asked, as if it were perfectly normal for Jesse to be a ghost, and yet have a friend.

“I’m Rhaella,” she said in reply, a little overwhelmed by the dragon and the General, seeing now what Jesse had meant about the girls in the bar not wanting to be near this…goddess. “I, um… came to salvage the ship. It’s what I do…,” she murmured, her voice trailing off. 

Lara smile at her warmly. “Thank you, Rhaella, for finding him, keeping him company, and calling for help. Your kindness and compassion will never be forgotten.”

“I just…I didn’t want to leave him here, alone,” she said in a rush, hoping the General would understand her intentions, her reasoning, without explanation. 

“I understand. Jesse is a very true and beloved friend of mine, and now it’s time I get him back to his brothers.” She smiled at Jesse with real affection and love. “They’ve been waiting for you.” Looking back at Rhaella, though, her brows knit in something of a question. “I think, though, you wanted to know something about Jesse?”

Rhaella’s face showed her confusion. “Know something? I’m not sure what you mean,” she said, shaking her head.

She saw Jesse’s face light up with a knowing expression though, and he stepped toward her, reaching out for her as for a hug. Rhaella suddenly felt the warmth of his strong hands on her shoulders, as they slid around to join behind her, and he pulled her into the heat of his chest as he snugged his head next to hers. He was real, just for this moment. He was solid, present, and truly holding her just as she’d imagined, his muscular body pulled tightly to hers in her bulky snow gear. Jesse pulled back for the briefest moment and then leaned in to kiss Rhaella on the lips, feeling her melt at his touch, responding in kind to his mouth on hers. This was nice, worth waiting for, a memory she’d never forget. 

Behind them the General snickered softly in a laugh and said, “Careful Jesse, don’t want to suck the life out of her.” 

“This is the last kiss I’m ever going to feel General, kriff off!,” he growled back with a laugh. 

When Jesse and Rhaella finally parted, it was obvious their attachment would be rooted in a love that lasted forever, no matter how brief. It was a unique, singular love founded in respect and friendship. Lara smiled to see it; these days the people of this galaxy needed to dig deep and hold on tightly to the good things, as evil took hold in every corner of every world. Jesse smiled at Rhaella lovingly, studying her eyes as he held her shoulders under his hands.

“Thank you, Rhaella, for not running away when you met me. For braving it out and sticking with me. I’ll never forget you,” Jesse said softly. “Keep my helmet with you; it would be better for you to have it, rather than falling apart here.” 

“I’ll never forget you, either, Jesse.” She wasn’t sure what to say at this moment, especially knowing he was gifting her something so important to his memory. ‘I love you?’ ‘Could you make him real again, so I can keep him forever?’ She didn’t think either of those would do her much good, so she opted for something that would make him laugh, one last time. “Maybe the next time we meet, you’ll have learned some of those manners…”

Jesse laughed, as she’d hoped. “But then you wouldn’t know me anymore! Maybe the next time I see you, I’ll show you why I was so popular with the ladies…” Lara snorted behind them and tried to turn the laugh into a bland cough, and Rhaella laughed at his brag.

In her customary drawl, Lara said, “Alright, Jesse. Save some mysteries for the future. Let’s get you home.” Turning to Rhaella, she again thanked her for helping Jesse. “If you ever need a place to live, in these troubled times, here are some coordinates that might help you out.” Looking back at Jesse and then to the girl, she said, “You’ll meet again, someday. Count on it.” She smiled at the girl, and turned to walk back to her dragon. 

Jesse looked at Rhaella for a long moment, no longer solid; he couldn’t touch her now, and he knew it was time to leave. “I’ll wait for you, and watch for you. And I’ll see you again, Rhaella. But not yet. Have a full life, be happy. And someday, I’ll be there.” 

He gave her a charming one sided smirk, winked at her, then turned to follow the General, climbing up on the back of the massive beast, settling in behind his leader. The dragon spread his mighty, leathery wings and hauled himself skyward with a shove, giving out a loud squawk in farewell. 

Rhaella watched as they disappeared into the far distance, then sighed, feeling empty. She walked over to Jesse’s grave and simply stared at it for a long time, the memory of his warm smile, his flirty joking and finally his strong hug and soft kiss playing through her mind. She reached out and took the blue and white helmet with the Republic rondel off the pike gently, holding it to her body like an embrace. “I’ll meet you again, Jesse. Just, not yet.” 

The girl turned and climbed aboard her ship, closing the doors and securing her bounty for travel. The engines whined as she powered up, and as the darkness of the sunset settled over the once proud Venator, Rhaella turned on the ship’s search lights for safety. The Tecova rose smoothly into the air, giving her a final view of the remains of the Jedi cruiser as they spread out before her. Rhaella took in the majesty of what once was, the ghost of the Republic’s former greatness represented in the fallen destroyer. Then the Tecova turned, heading away from the Tribunal. She hoped no one ever found the ship after her; she hoped it would stay silent and peacefully resting, a testament to the era that had been lost the day she crashed. The dead deserved their rest, the memory of their sacrifices preserved by those that cared.

Glancing over at the copilot’s seat, she gave Jesse’s helmet a little smile. Maybe once she dropped off her haul and saw her sister off to university, she would check out those coordinates the General had given her. She programmed in the route for her home world, and the Tecova disappeared into the blue worm hole of hyperspace, leaving the small, uncharted moon behind, free of its ghosts. Rhaella smiled at that final thought. 

#submission #pineapple’s 2023 halloween party

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Made in his image

(Shapeshifter!au Tallulah. Showing a lack of self-esteem by having her literally change herself to get adopted. <3)

She pressed back against the wall, listening dully to the conversation floating over to her. The sound echoed around the walls of the tiny dug-out space she called her house (bouncing around her head, mocking her), making it hard to pinpoint where it was coming from.

It wasn’t like it mattered, anyway. Her throat was wrecked after so long without nearly any water, and she was too starved to put any kind of force into punching the wall, let alone punch it hard enough to alert them of her presence.

Quietly, she scratched another number in the ground by her hand, clawed fingers marring the floor. It had been smooth when she had first woken up there, but now tiny divots littered the ground. Not for the first time, she wondered what color the stone actually was.

Light. Lighter than her, when she pressed her hand to the floor and squinted she could make out that much, but otherwise it was a mystery.

The conversation halted abruptly.

Too abruptly. Not as if they had gone out of hearing range, but as if they had simply stopped talking.

Like they were trying to listen.

She knew she shouldn’t let her hope run away from her.

She dug her claws into the stone and dragged them along the floor regardless, hoping against hope that they would hear.

The silence was deafening.

Maybe she had just been too lost in her own head, and because of that she simply hadn't noticed them getting further and further away. Maybe she was finally going insane, staring at the nothingness for days on end had gotten to her. Maybe she would die here and no one would ever be any the wiser and there was nothing she could do about it –.

She heard something hit the stone with a deafening clang.

And then again.

And again.

She shrunk back into the safety of the corner, quietly hoping that, whichever way the person would come from, it would be far from her corner. She would prefer not being clubbed with a pickaxe, or hit by a stray rock that had come loose while the person broke their way into her room.

For once, the whatever it was that watched over them all actually answered her pleas.

Light poked its way in on the opposite side of the cavern, faint at first, traveling through the tiniest of holes. She almost looked away – the light, as little as it was, was almost blinding after so long with nothing but sheer darkness – but she didn’t dare to, instead powering her way through the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, determined not to miss a thing. Cracks spider-webbed outwards, and it only took another few, clean hits before the hole was large enough for a person to squeeze through, if they were not too concerned about a couple of scrapes.

It seemed her saviors were, though, because they continued to chip away at the opening.

Her eyes landed on a man with a mess of curly, chestnut hair and a set of wireframe glasses perched on his nose. Not that this was what she noticed first – no, her first thought was about how tall he was, tall enough that he had to duck just slightly in the room she had always thought to be surprisingly spacious for a pocket of air in the wall. Or maybe he was just hunched over because he was coughing, perspective was weird. He had dragged the front of his turtleneck sweater up to cover his nose, trying to keep out the dust and pieces of stone kicked up by their pickaxes, but even this wasn’t enough to keep him from coughing and waving his sombrero around in hopes of batting away some of the particulates.

The man’s eyes had slid right over her. Between the dust and the fact that her dark scales helped her blend into the shadows, she was easy to miss.

Probably for the best, though. She knew reptilians were not the most cuddly things, and that many humans were put off when they might happen to see long claws or gaunt, inhuman faces.

So, she would have to change before they could see that.

Quietly, she shifted. It wasn’t a particularly fun process, having her bones contort into new shapes to match that of a human’s, to have skin stretch itself over her scales, to feel strands of hair begin to poke out from the back of her head… but at least it was quick, a change done in the split-second of a torch’s flicker.

In came another man, not as tall as the first, but extremely broad, and with a head that shone without any hair in sight. His metal arm gleamed in the light of the torch he was holding, and this did nothing to help her from thinking the man looked a little scary.

This mild, passing thought, turned into a blaring alarm when his eyes instantly locked on her.

For a moment, his face paled, and she wondered if, somehow, he had seen her in the exact moment she had shifted. That he knew. That her chances of the family she had daydreamed about for weeks on end to pass the time were already dashed. She hadn’t yet crossed the starting line!

“Wil – Wilbur, there’s a kid here,” the man said.

The first man’s eyes widened and he followed the man’s pointed finger, only to jolt in surprise when he finally noticed her.

“It looks just like me,” the tall man said, no doubt taking in the curly brown hair she had grown and the pale skin she had created to match him. “Oh, hell, it looks just like me .”

Panic jolted through her in parallel to the horror dawning across the man’s face. Had she chosen wrong?

Maybe she should risk a quick shift, hope that they would blame the change on the low torchlight? Maybe she should add a scar over the bridge of her nose to match this new man?

But they had already seen her, and she didn’t want to put them off. What if they thought she was mocking them by changing her appearance to match theirs? What if they saw the moment her features shifted, got a brief peak behind the curtain, saw the glimmering scales dancing under her false skin? What if they were disgusted?

They thought she was a human child, it was probably best that things remained that way.

She widened her eyes just slightly at the muscular man. She had waited months for this, for a chance at a family, she was not going to be left here. Not again.

It had been bad enough to be without a family, but if she was outright rejected? She really wasn't sure how she would cope. The meaning of life was love and kindness, this she knew, but if she was rejected did that mean she wasn't worthy of either of them?

“Wilbur, you’re scaring them,” the man said, hesitantly closing the distance between the two of them. He was careful, as if approaching a wild animal that he was scared would run off if he made any sudden moves. He wasn’t too far off, to be fair, not about the animal part, at least. He settled a heavy hand on her shoulder – the human hand, warm even through the thick fabric of her shirt and covered in callouses. “Hey, what’s your name?”

She hesitated, before shaking her head.

“You… don’t have one?”

She nodded that this was true. Not one that she remembered. And she would take any name, so long as they would return the favor and take her with them.

He gave a smile, hesitant and small as it was. She returned it, trying to still her heart in her chest before it got away from her again.

She was right to do so, because the man turned back to his companion (‘Wilbur’, apparently) with a grim look. “I think she’s yours.”

Wilbur shook his head rapidly. She might be offended at how vehemently against the idea of being her father he was if she wasn’t too busy feeling her heart drop like a rock into her gut.

“Fit – you – I – you know this, I can’t take care of a kid .”

“I can’t either. I’m already taking care of Ramon on my own.”

“At least you’ll be here to try. I have to leave in two weeks, Fit!”

“She looks just like you. I think this is one of those times where you have to take responsibility, Wilbur.”

They…!

They were fighting over who would not keep her.

She looked around frantically. She needed to prove herself to them! She needed to be something worth keeping. She already looked like one of them, but that wasn’t enough, so that meant it was up to her and her actual personality, so surely she was doomed.

She had been stuck in a cave for as long as she could remember, she hadn’t had much time to pick up any hobbies!

Well, she wasn’t all that good at the one she had tried, at least.

But she had to try.

She snatched up the flute she had fashioned out of a singular stick she had found in the room with her and launched into one of the songs she had learned to play in her many hours of sitting around with nothing to do. Her throat ached with every harsh exhale, and the flute was poorly made, but she still managed a few quick notes.

Wilbur’s lips quirked up at the corners. Not in amusement, not like he was laughing at her, but instead something undeniably fond. “Big fan of Usher, are you?”

She had no clue what that was! But sure! She nodded rapidly, giving him as bright of a smile as she could.

His eyes didn’t stray from her own for a few moments, the complicated expression tugging at the edges of his face never fading.

Whatever he found in her face, though, he must have liked (she would hope so, she had made it just for him), because he managed a tiny smile and held his hand out for her. Probably to help her up, but she grabbed his hand and didn’t let go.

He didn’t pull away, either.

“Well… let’s get you out of here. Can’t stay in a dusty place like this, can we?”

She glanced around the dusty place that had been her home for the past few weeks. The walls and floor were gray.

She looked at Wilbur.

She nodded once. Firmly. She would not be coming back here.

#qsmp #qsmp fanfiction #qwilbur #qsmp tallulah #qfit #wilbur soot #fitmc #when will i be free from this war #(crossposting fics)

[imagineanime2022]

Shadow

Hisoka Morow (Platonic) X Reader Illumi Zoldyck (Platonic) X Reader

Word Count: 2306

Requested: Anon

Request: Hello! I was wondering if you could do a phantom troupe x platonic teen reader where the reader is Chrollo's teen sister but he and everyone else except Hisoka (who treats the reader like a sister) mistreats her. And she disappears for awhile until they find her and find out she's been turned into a werewolf or vampire (whichever one gives you more creativity) and has just been hiding and the events that follow after the phantom troupe find out?

Warning: Blood, Bad family relations, injury, implied death, biting

Ever since you could remember you had been a nuisance to your brother and his band of thieves, the only person that seemed to want anything to do with you was Hisoka one of the newest members, you often just faded into the background and dealt with your own problems that was why no one noticed you were missing the night that everything changed for you. You had been out one night keeping an eye on the perimeter around the base while the others rested.

You hadn’t heard whoever it was that had snuck up behind you one minute you were alone and the next someone had latched onto your neck, searing pain pushed through your body as you fell to the floor, whoever they were they were bigger and stronger than you were and not matter what you did to them it didn’t seem to deter them. You felt his nen just before you felt the person leaning over you being torn away from you, you reached up to your neck pressing your hand to it tightly. “Hisoka…” You managed to grab both their attention. “If you kill me now, she’ll die.” The man that had been attached to you seconds ago spoke. “What have you done?” Hisoka asked. “Surely you know a severed carotid artery when you see one.” He smirked “she hasn’t got long.” “You can save her?” Hisoka asked. “If you let me.” He answered, Hisoka let got of the man who crouched next to you, he bit into his wrist and held it to your mouth “you’ll need this if you want to live, I think we’re a bit far gone for you to continue as a human, don’t worry when you wake you’ll leave behind the pain of a mortal life.”

You don’t remember what happened the following day, you know that Hisoka had taken you somewhere, the only thing that remembered from that day was putting you hand in the sun and feeling the searing pain, like you were on fire. It took Hisoka a day to come around to explaining what had happened to you or at least what he thought had happened to you. He explained that he had no idea if it was a nen ability or not but the effects closely resemble strengths and drawbacks of a vampire including the blood drinking.

Hisoka suggested a way that you could get the blood you needed without having to try luring people to you, it involved a friend of his, he told you that you brother and the rest of the troupe had yet to ask about you so you should feel bad about leaving them. Honestly he was right you should probably focus on yourself.

Hisoka disappeared for a couple of days leaving you alone to figure out your new power, as it turned out you had more strength and endurance, enhanced healing abilities and a craving for blood.

When Hisoka came back you realised that every person's nen energy had a different look, sound, smell even. It was like another identifying feature for any human that had activated it. You couldn’t see him yet but you knew that he had someone else with him, someone dangerous, whoever they were they had no sound to their footsteps or breathing and if it were for their nen and heartbeat you wouldn’t have known that they were even there. The door to the building that you had been hiding in opened and Hisoka walked in first followed by the person that you had been trying to pin down, when you looked at him, you knew that you hadn’t met him before but you feel like you should know who he is “(Y/N).” Hisoka said softly, your eyes moved to him. “This is the person I was talking about, he can get you the blood that you need.” “What do you want in return?” You asked. “Smart girl.” The man’s voice was smooth, perfect, something that pulled your guard up. “If you are in any way what Hisoka claims you to be, you will be an asset to my work.” “Your work?” You asked. “My name is Illumi Zoldyck.” He introduced himself and you looked at him and nodded. “The assassin.” You said, you’d heard of the family in many different lights even seen his father fight your brother on another occasion. “How will I be any help to you, I can't fight and I’ve never killed anyone.” You informed him and he shook his head. “Don’t worry about that, I'll teach you everything that you need to know.” He explained. “First though a test, Hisoka has told me everything that we know about your abilities. I want to know how strong they are.” Hisoka gave you a soft nod of encouragement so you nodded, he handed you a blindfold “put this on.” you did as you were told “now all you have to do is use your abilities to stop me from hitting you.” Everything was silent after that, you knew that tracking his footsteps was useless so no matter what you disregarded sound that resembled footsteps or feet. You instead focused on his heart beat, it was slower than Hisoka’s you assumed because he had learned to slow his breathing when stalking something. You waited arms up defensively you heard something moving through the air something had been thrown, you caught it easily much to your own surprise but even still your brain processed the movement of the heartbeat that you had been tracking and moved to stop him from getting too close using the needle to stop him from moving any closer. The clap from Hisoka signified the end of the test and you pulled the blindfold. “So Illumi what do you think?” He asked. “I’ll teach her.” He turned his attention to you “you’ll stay here until you are able to fend for yourself, once your training with me is done you will be able to move freely, is this acceptable?” “Yes.” You answered. “Good.” He nodded.

Over the next couple of months, Illumi trained you while working his normal jobs, he found that given your new predator behaviours teaching you the ways of an assassin moved faster than he first thought. Within 6 months you had learned what had taken him and his siblings years to learn, though you never tried there was a good chance that you could even catch him by surprise. During this time you found that you had an ability to control blood using it as both a shield and a weapon, though it was usually followed by an intense hunger.

Like he had promised you were free to move around however you wanted, the only thing that you needed to do was be present when he called, which you did given the fact that it was always a guaranteed meal for you. Hisoka still came to see you and in most cases was on the assassination jobs with you. You had met Illumi’s younger brother and he had told you that if there was ever a time that it was needed you were to protect him.

You ended up in Yorknew city when Illumi asked you to keep an eye on his brother who had recently left home with a friend. You knew that the city would be a good place to get blood since there was a meeting of a number of criminal organisations whose deaths were rarely investigated to keep their secrets.

You were sitting in the hotel room that you had gotten, you could hear him as he climbed onto the balcony and opened the door “It’s been a while little one.” Hisoka said as you glanced over at him head pulled back at a weird angle so you didn’t have to turn your body. “Hisoka!” You greeted him. “What are you doing here?” “The troupe is meeting here,” he answered. “They intend to steal everything from the criminal auction in a few days.” “Really?” You asked. “Hmm, what has Illumi got you doing?” He asked. “Looking out for the little man.” You answered “and by extension your vested interest Gon.” “They’re both interesting cases.” He said as he walked over to where you were sitting, he sat on the bed in front of you happy that he was able to see you without the mask on for a little while. You had taken to wearing a metallic mask that covered the bottom half of your face stopping just under your eyes, the only identifying feature being the canines that had been carved into the front where your own would have been located. “They’re stronger than I was when I was their age.” You explained as you looked at the man. “You weren’t in the right environment.” Hisoka said and you shrugged. “Are you going to see them?” “If our paths cross.” You answered, Hisoka smirked at you. “You’re not the same as when you left them.” He reminded you “there’s no need to be afraid of them.”

As it turned out you did cross paths with the Troupe your brother wasn’t there but the rest of them where, you had since managed to get clothes that protected your skin from the sun so going out during the day was never a problem for you, though the building that they had hauled up in didn’t really allow for much sunlight anyway. “I’d start with a finger, peel of a nail.” You recognised Feitan’s broken speech even after 2 years. “Knock, knock.” You wrapped your knuckles against the doorframe drawing everyone’s attention. “What are you doing here!?” Killua asked, he was always careful about using names and even if he couldn’t see it you were thankful for that as a small smirk stretched across your lips. “You know them, Killua?” Gon asked. “She’s a friend of my brothers.” He answered. “Friend is probably a strong term.” You shrugged. “You're here to help them?” Nobunaga was the one who turned to you. “I was hoping that I wouldn’t need to but given the scene, they look like they're in a little trouble.” You informed him and you looked at him. “Do you need my help Little man?” “Yes.” He answered. In less than a second you had freed Gon from Feitan, Nobunaga took out his sword and pointed it at you, you looked at him not actually moving your head. “Can I help you?” “Who are you?” He asked. “If you don’t know, I won't tell you.” You answered, turning your attention to the boys “go.” “Hey wait!” Nobunaga stepped forward, you easily disarmed him, throwing the katana to the floor and kicking him with such force that his back hit the wall, he doubled over slightly winded. You caught sight of both the boys disappearing out of the door, you turned back in time to see Feitan heading towards you, his knife slashed straight across your throat, you grabbed at your throat coughing slightly before catching yourself and laughing. “That won’t kill me.” You teased pulling your hand away from your throat and revealing a completely healed wound. “What now Feitan?” “You know me?” He asked, you lifted your shoulders in a shrug. “I know your name, I don’t know much else.” You answered. Franklin was next to lift his hands and he started shooting but it didn’t bother you at all, you had training for your pain threshold when Illumi was looking after you, however his shots did manage to break your mask, it fell to the floor in front of you, you leaned down to pick it up as Machi called for Franklin to stop shooting. “(Y/N)?” She asked. “Oh you do know my name.” you said in mock surprise, as you licked at the blood on your cheek showing off your sharp canines before putting the mask back on. “Where have you been!?” Shalnark asked. “Do you actually care?” You asked. “They ruined another shirt.” “You’ve changed.” Nobunaga said as he moved closer to the rest of the troupe. “You framed that weird, don't want to admit that I’m stronger, maybe even scarier than I was before?” You asked. “Doesn’t matter how strong you are, I will find a way to kill you.” Feitan threatened you and you looked at him and let tears fill your eyes. “You’d kill one of your own?” You asked softly. “You left, you are not one of us.” He argued and even if they could only see your eyes they could see sadness turn to hate and anger. “I never was, was I?” You asked before any of them could answer and you disappeared from your place on the stone slab.

“The little man is a troublemaker.” You said you answered the phone to Illumi. “Is there a problem?” He asked. “Not at the moment, him and his friend are antagonising the spiders but that’s nothing I can’t handle and Hisoka has no intention of letting either of them die either.” You informed him. “And you?” He asked. “Me?” You asked. “Are you hurt?” He asked. “No, one of them managed to injure me but I healed, I just need to find someone willing to give me a meal.” You answered, you decided to leave out the bullet injury you had been shot before a few times and it was no surprise that you got back up after. “We have a job, make sure that you are ready by the time I get there, I will call you when I am ready to complete the job.” He explained. “Sure.” You answered. “Good work keeping Killua safe.” He said before hanging up the phone, you smiled as you placed the phone back into your pocket and waited for the unlucky drunk to stumble into your hunter ground.

*Part 2*

Request Here!!

#hunter x hunter oneshot #hunter x hunter reader insert #hunter x hunter imagine #hisoka morrow #hisoka morrow oneshot #hisoka morrow imagine #illumi zoldyck oneshot #illumi zoldyck imagine #illumi zoldyck

[mimic-from-the-lab]

Doll, the weird issue is hard to ignore

A rant on story and character motivations, featuring Doll.

*Before Episode 7 so all my thoughts are based on that*

Before I go ahead, I love Doll. From aesthetic to personality.

But my gods, her place in the story. This hasn't been an issue till I started writing her into fics, till I realised rather quickly how her story and motivations just don't work.

I could ignore it if it was a crazy thing, except she isn't. She is meant to be a bot on a mission of revenge and wanting to be alive at the end.

Revenge; to kill the bots that killed her parents. Fair, solid. Would be fine if she hadn't failed, either the events of the prom fight impacted her so much that her eye has turned yellow or other internal weird things which quickly leads to.

Wanting to be alive; why would she be looking for a cure otherwise. Also very fine but she probably shouldn't have gone all power crazy in the first place cause where would she go afterwards.

Granted with bot logic of these people will forget what bad thing you did so you can come back and live with them.

Buuut, she still hasn't done point one, revenge. Which has to use her power to do so. And she made an indirect attempt in ep 6 for the dingos to do it.

My only thought on her plan for the later episodes is simply.

Find the source of the power to be able to continue to use it, so find Cyn and find out how to fix it to save her life.

She has no other path than that. And it isn't going to work out for her, not if Cyn values the others over a random drone with solver that she is trying to get rid of or assimilate. For whatever reasons. Well assimilation makes some sense...

Now on to some of the weird story choices in her own plans.

Point one

Her plan to get V into Prom. Murder other bots who would have family that missed them.

Weird, you could have just found her outside or added in some steps to make sure the other disassembly bot wouldn't be included. Or I don't know just used Lizzy to continue to befriend her and get her where you needed without involving everyone else.

But no, an over the top plan to kill a bunch of teens to then get your chance to get revenge. But it was meant to fit with Carrie/prom murder so a bit of a pass for style.

Point two

She didn't need to run ahead of the others at the lab unless she knew something and needed to be alone for it for some reason. Still weird hopefully we will find out about that real quick but I doubt Cyn is there so I have no idea why she wanted to get there besides the cure but again she could have taken Uzi to keep her promise. Buut she still hasn't done revenge. Unless she has given up on that, ehhh.

Point three

She promised to help Uzi when she found out about her having solver, how sweet and that should mean that she will team up with Uzi to find out everything. Right?

No, she leaves Uzi behind, for dead with the dingos to be killed with the others whiiile she was in the middle of the power freaking out. She tells her goodbye with a salute.

Something about this doesn't sit well for me, I very much doubt we will get an explanation considering we haven't so far with other things.

Again I like her, I don't like how she has been used in the story at least with so little.

I am just so confused with her, I would like to chuck that up to limited story time and I can't blame the show writers for that. I should be glad to have her at all. But writing a character is hard if you don't know what they want or what goals they got. There is a lot of that in the series with more characters then Doll.

With her having nothing as a part of the story, I can't imagine she will live for much longer. I imagine she will be used as a warning for Uzi about continuing down the path she has or about usage of solver. While giving Uzi a single clue to continue on, in whichever direction.

The fan writers out there can only guess a path and try to stick with it till something is revealed. Then cry and try again to rewrite it.

Anyone else out there that is worried about this, I say just make a version with your best guess. Still make whatever you want with some wiggle room..

#murder drones #murder drones thoughts after ep 6 #mimic's words #murder drones fanfic #writing problems