#i prefer my commander unharmed

[ineffablejaymee]

echo, telling the bad batch about how calm kind and cool General Kenobi was and that they were friends:

hunter, trying very hard not to show fear because the last time he saw kenobi was after a mission during which cody broke his arm. Obi-wan's calm passive agressive smile still haunts him in nightmares: uhuh :)

#i prefer my commander unharmed #it would be best to keep him out of harms way #dont you think #sargeant #:) #hunter: *sweating #obiwan kenobi #commander cody #codywan #sargeant hunter #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch #tbb #star wars clone wars #star wars

[optimizche]

Missing (Part 6) [Aemond Targaryen x Reader]

Being a dragonrider for as long as he could remember, Aemond Targaryen disliked travel on horseback. Horses were slow, incredibly slow, clumsy and awkward to ride for a seasoned dragonrider like the one-eyed exiled Prince. 

He much preferred the swiftness, elegance and ease of dragons, flying high above the earth, well above the din of the city and the villages. Well away from common folk and horse shit. And dragons looked infinitely more intimidating than horses that even bannerless sellswords rode. 

Before being forced out of the gates of King's Landing, Aemond had received a black horse and two bags of gold, his longsword and a few daggers (something he knew that his mother, Dowager Queen Alicent, made sure he received) from the men of the City Watch. At least the gold and the horse were better than travelling destitute and on foot, the young Prince mused. 

Currently seated in a tavern close to his inn near Harrenhal, Aemond quietly nursed a mug of thick brown ale, thinking of what he was to do next. Moving through Westeros was going to be difficult for the famous one-eyed Prince, his long, silvery mane and eye patch instantly revealing his identity, even among the common folk, even without his dragon, Vhagar. With his snowy curtain of hair tied away from his face and carefully hidden under the hood of his dark cloak, the Prince hoped that he was as inconspicuous as he could possibly be.

Aemond dearly missed his mother, his sister and his twin children. For all the petty grievances he had with his own kin, he recognised their value after being separated from them. He missed the love of his mother, the comfort of his sister and the way his children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, would light up upon seeing him. He could only hope and pray to the Gods that Aegon would not make his sister and his children suffer. In his heart, he knew that Queen Mother Alicent would make sure that Helaena and the twins remained unharmed. Confined, but unharmed.

He missed his dragon. Surrendering Vhagar to those dragonkeepers was one of the most heartbreaking and difficult things he had ever done. For a flash, Aemond was filled with such anger, at the moment of giving up Vhagar, that he wanted to command the dragon to burn all of King's Landing to the ground. But he restrained himself, restricting the almost overwhelming ache he felt in his heart when he thought of all the ones he had been forced to give up.

Right now, his only concern was to find out the truth about the author of the letters that had caused him to be exiled, which is why he awaited the arrival of a guest in this filthy tavern.

A whore, under the employ of the White Worm. One of her spies, she was, he had heard. One of the many spiders that ran along the intricate web the White Worm had woven across Westeros. Waif-like, with full lips, raven hair that ran down her back and olive skin, Aemond could tell that the girl was not a native of Westeros. Perhaps from one of the Free Cities?

"I'm deeply sorry for all the losses you've suffered, my Prince," she said and Aemond's mouth turned into a scowl at the way she openly used his title. A threat hanging in the air, essentially begging for him to be found out, kidnapped, robbed and even murdered, should anyone overhear this conversation. They'd find out his identity in a moment.

"I am nothing more than a traveller, making my way through the countryside," Aemond said, his sentence making the girl chuckle. "You might want to lower your voice, when we speak."

At this, the girl smiled, amusement dancing in her eyes. "What is it that you wish to know?" she asked.

"Who wrote those letters?"

"I do not know," she replied with a sigh, eyeing him like he was a piece of meat. "But I was disheartened to hear of the end of your betrothal, traveller. Perhaps I could warm your bed, if only for the night? I have many tricks you would enjoy. Your brother surely does."

Aemond's expression was one of disgust as he pulled out one of the bags of gold his mother had given to him and passed it to the girl. "I wish for none of your games, girl. Answer my questions and begone."

"Very well," the girl gleefully pocketed the gold before speaking. "You scorn a woman in the middle of the Narrow Sea and expect her not to strike back, traveller?"

Upon hearing this, Aemond inhaled sharply. Bile rose in his throat and he wanted to vomit. There were only three people in the world, who knew of his relationship with Helaena. Apart from his sister and himself, he had only confessed of his deepest secret to you, no one else. Over the years of being so intimately involved with Helaena, Aemond had ensured with utmost care that the illicit nature of his relationship with her remained a very closely guarded secret. He knew that it had to be you. He had a doubt, ever since he had read the letter, given how desperately you wanted to hear the confession in his own voice. But he had never imagined that you, his childhood friend, would weaponize his deepest secret to wound him so deeply. His heart was filled with immense pain, never having thought in his wildest dreams that you would be the one to betray him so.

"And where am I to find this woman?" he asked, trying to keep his composure, his hands clenching around his mug. "Dragonstone?"

At this, the girl laughed. "Your woman in question and your oldest nephew seek to treat with the Wolf of the North. Perhaps that's where you'll find them."

Aemond felt a sense of anger trickle into the mountain of agony crushing down on his heart. You were the cause of his exile. Your letter had led to his banishment. His separation from his mother, Helaena and his children. Your betrayal had cost him his reputation, his betrothal to the Baratheon girl. Your letters had turned the tide of this war in favour of Rhaenyra. Why had you done this? To prove your loyalty to the Blacks? To exact revenge for what he had done to you in your childhood?

"Thank you for your time," he said, rising to his feet and swiftly making his way to his horse. 

He had no time to lose. 

On dragonback, you would've flown to the North in a matter of hours. If he rode all through this day and the next, perhaps he'd be able to make it to Winterfell in time. If he made haste, he would be able to find you.

He wanted to see you confess your betrayal with your own words, he wanted to hear it in your own voice. But most of all, he wanted to know why you had decided to hurt him more severely and grievously than when his eye had been taken from him on that night in Driftmark. 

You sat beside Lord Cregan Stark and Prince Jacaerys, at a seat of high honour, during the welcoming feast in the Great Hall of Winterfell.

The arrival of not one, but two dragons and their riders in Winterfell was cause of much excitement amongst adults and children alike. While the children made a beeline to see your dragons, the adults pondered upon the reason for such an unexpected visit to the North.

The Wolf of the North was a kind and gentle man, seeing in Jacaerys his late younger brother, someone whom he had loved most dearly and lost. It brought a smile to your lips when you saw how well the oldest son of Queen Rhaenyra and the Lord of Winterfell had bonded, becoming thick as thieves over a matter of days. Jacaerys had a way about him that charmed almost everyone around him with his warmth and kindness. Lord Cregan was no exception, declaring himself to Queen Rhaenyra's cause and celebrating the newfound friendship between Houses Stark, Targaryen and Velaryon with days of hunts, tourneys and feasts.

You sat in your seat, nursing a cup of wine and trying so hard to get some food into yourself but finding yourself devoid of any appetite. Over the sounds of the music and the revelry, you could hear Lord Stark laugh at a jape Jacaerys had made, the words not even registering with your ears as you smiled politely nevertheless. Winterfell had pulled all the stops when it came to your welcome and you were surrounded, at the moment, with an expansive table laden with food. Roasted meats, honeyed chicken, ribs encrusted in herbs and garlic, mounds of baked potatoes and roasted onions dripping in gravy, trays upon trays of sweet and savoury pies, clay baked trout, a mountain of a variety of fruits and heaps of pastries were part of the feast, yet you were only picking at your slice of Lamprey pie, preferring the comfort of your wine to ease your mind.

It took everything in you to keep yourself from showing the utter emotional exhaustion that you felt, the muscles in your face screaming in protest at being forced to smile and laugh and utter pleasantries despite the torment you felt within.

I should be feeling happy, you thought. Relieved, that I have found the vengeance I so desperately sought. Why do I feel so horrible instead?

You felt sick to your stomach, weighed down by the guilt of your actions and their consequences affecting innocent souls like Helaena's children. Their bastardy had been no fault of theirs. You wondered if in your quest for soothing the rage and bitterness you felt against Aemond, you had gone too far in getting him exiled. You were all too aware of how much the third child of Alicent Hightower loathed being denied what he wanted most. He had wanted Helaena, he had wanted Vhagar and your letters had robbed him of them...

"Is everything to your liking, My Lady?" Cregan Stark's voice pulled you from the absolute mess of your thoughts, and you nodded at him, plastering on your sweetest smile.

"I thank you for your hospitality, My Lord," you replied, your tone impeccably correct.

You did not want to be ungrateful, you truly were struck by the kindness of the Lord of Winterfell. Sensing that you had been rather unprepared for the brutal cold of the North, Lord Cregan had an entire wardrobe of clothing commissioned for you. In your designated chambers you found cloaks, dresses, riding leathers and gloves, all made of the finest skins, the softest furs and the warmest wool you could ever lay eyes upon. A welcoming gift of sorts for you upon your arrival at Winterfell, Lord Cregan had informed you genially. It was a truly heartwarming gesture and you found yourself in awe of his thoughtfulness.

Equally thoughtful was Jacaerys, who's hand found yours underneath the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Are you well, sweet one?" he asked. "You look rather pale tonight."

"I'm fine, Jace," you said, smiling at him, knowing full well that he could see in your eyes exactly what concerned you.

"Well, since you are well," he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin after a hearty swig of wine. "Would you owe me the pleasure of a dance?" he asked, extending you his hand.

As you placed your hand in his, you knew precisely what he meant by asking you for a dance. He wanted to speak to you in the midst of the chaos on the dance floor, away from the ears of Lord Cregan Stark.

Jacaerys held you firmly against him, an arm around your waist securing you to him as the two of you moved across the floor in a graceful arc.

You clung to him, feeling almost like you would slip away, dissolve into nothingness if he let go of you.

"It is him, isn't it? Still plaguing your mind?" Jacaerys asked, his words a whisper against your ear.

Gods, he truly knows me...

"I felt so sure about what I was doing when I wrote..." you sighed, trailing off mid sentence before finding your voice again. "Now I am wrought with anxiety and worry about his retribution."

"Sweet one," Jacaerys began, concern now apparent in his voice. "You weaken yourself by denying yourself food or sleep, worrying endlessly about a man who is now exiled by his own brother." 

"Jacaerys," you pleaded, trying to make him understand your fears. "He has a madness within him and my actions have robbed him of the things he holds dearest. He has nothing left to lose now. His impulsiveness will cost me." 

He could feel how you had stiffened against him, the distress and apprehension freezing your blood. 

Glancing at the table at the head of the hall and seeing Lord Stark occupied with speaking to his bannermen, Jacaerys tugged at your hand, leading you outside. 

To the Godswood. 

The two of you walked in silence, Jace walking a step ahead of you into the impenetrable night, away from the lights of the castle's fires. 

It had started snowing, adding more to the already existing mountains of frost that surrounded you. 

Underneath the weirwood tree, Jacaerys pulled you to him, his hands now finding home on your face. 

"I cannot see you torture yourself so," he said, thumbs stroking your cheekbones in calming circles. "I want you to take a deep breath and just listen to me." 

"Okay..." you did as he asked, inhaling a soothing breath before exhaling.

"My uncle and his family will pose no harm to you, sweet one. I swear this to you, this godswood, the old gods and the new being my witnesses." 

"Jacaerys..." You breathed. 

"No, let me finish, while I have the nerve to," he insisted and you remained silent. "I know you've closed your heart to love ever since he decided to break your heart. But it would be my greatest honour if you were to allow me to show you how incredible you truly are." 

You felt your breath hitch at his words. 

"Your kindness, curiosity and thirst for knowledge is what drew me to you, when we were children. But it was your warmth and the happiness your presence brought to my heart that bound me to you," he said, and you felt your heartbeat quicken at the urgency behind his words. "You heal people with just a touch, you've bound yourself to a dragon, learned the art of war and combat by my side and helped me win Winterfell. You single-handedly won droves of Houses to our side. When will you start to see yourself the way I do?" he asked. 

Closing your eyes, you felt his words wash over you. While it was true that you had always imagined someone else saying these things to you, it was Jacaerys who had finally given a voice to these words. You had ached for all these years for someone else to love you the way you loved him, but it was Jacaerys who was pouring his heart out to you in this uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. 

Perhaps it was time for you to begin moving forward...

"So you don't think I'm beautiful?" you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice as you opened your eyes to see a smile break across the dark haired Prince's face.

You met him halfway, your mouths finding each other with a hunger that only became frenzied with each passing moment. Closing your eyes again, you kissed him with everything you had, remembering each time he had supported, reassured and protected you.

"You are the most beguiling woman I've ever seen," he breathed between kisses, backing you against the closest tree, his warm lips ghosting their way down your jaw to the column of your throat. "I'd consider myself the luckiest man alive if you gave me even a single night to worship you the way your beauty deserves to be worshipped..."

"Jace..." the moan slipped from your throat when he latched on to a sensitive spot on your neck, your arms finding their way around his broad shoulders.

Just hearing you utter his name with such a sinful intonation brought Jacaerys back to your lips, the ardour behind his kiss almost startling you with its desperation. For how long had he waited for this? Ached for this?

You hesitated to ask him this question, but seeing right through you, as always, Jacaerys breathed against your tingling lips. "For as long as you burned for him, I longed for you..."

"Jacaerys," you sighed. "You have me. You have me..."

"Gods be good, I don't think I can stand waiting until we reach back at the castle-"

"Come with me..." It was you who grasped his hand this time, leading him to a small, abandoned cabin a few yards deeper into the godswood, utterly and blissfully unaware of the cloaked figure watching the two of you, shrouded in darkness, a sliver of his silvery hair glowing in the moonlight.

Author's note: Sooooooo. What did you thinkkkk?

Part 7

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd #house of the dragon #angst #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x helaena #aemond x y/n #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond imagine #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2023 12.Dowdy

Characters: Tataru Taru, Estinien Wyrmblood, Violet Fisher, Sewingway Expansion: Endwalker Rating: T Notes: This fit well with an ask @karoiseka gave me! And @matrixdragon, @reassambled-dragoon, and @scrollsfromarebornrealm for outfit suggestions!

"Wicked Wenches. Both of you! Stealing a man's clothes while he's in the bath."

Tataru laughed, hands over her face while peaking through her fingers as Estinien stood cupping his naked form, glowering at her and Violet as water slid down his muscular form. The latter tossed her hair and handed the man a sealed package of smalls.

"This is an intervention long coming Dragoon. Everyone has managed to figure out how to dress themselves these past few years aside from you," Violet huffed, arms crossing.

The Dragoon grunted then tore open the package with his teeth as Tataru let out gasp as the man's hand moved and a nutkin jumped by and hurried into a corner.

"Goodness! Thancred must be back from wherever he's been," the Lalafell mused, looking back to Estinien as he tucked himself into his underbreeches properly.

"I think I look quite regal in my armor. I've certainly not heard complaints from those I've fought alongside in battle."

"Yes, but when you're not playing soldier you're with us and look like you just wandered out of a damn swamp."

"It is unfortunately true. Unless you've got your paramour around to dress you, your fashion sense is left to be desired," Tataru added delicately.

"A man of weaker esteem might take offense."

"Well it's good for us then that you've got thick skin. Now put this on," Violet ordered.

Estinien grumbled then did as he was instructed, fastening a crisp white shirt over himself before slipping into a pressed jacket. He turned as he moved to put his pants on as some modesty washer over him. Once buttoned, he turned and shrugged at the women who started to circle around him.

"Really Tataru, when is he going to need a suit?"

"A gentleman should always have a nice suit at the ready. Should Lord Borel call upon him for a gala, his rags certainly wouldn't do."

"If the Lord Commander wanted me present I'd be in my armor and he'd never bother himself with worrying about my attire otherwise."

Violet erupted into laughter while Tataru shook her head.

 "Who do you think provided Elezen sized clothing and your measurements? This effort is far from our personal preferences alone. Did you think your wardrobe was going to come solely out of my own gil," Tataru asked before turning her head to call out, "Sewingway! Bring in the rest!"

"By the Fury…" Estinien breathed out as a Lopporit wheeled in a rack of new clothing.

"Alright. Let's see who else has a request…," Violet hummed, flipping through the curated outfits while Tataru held out her arms, gesturing for him to return the suit.

"Get on with it then," the dragoon grumbled, “And the hells I’m trying on all of those!”

“Nonsense. Just stand there and look pretty and we’ll take care of the rest. Sewingway, the champagne,” Tataru called, the Lopporit bringing in a tray for them.

“Bubbly at the ready miss! As well as the bombs!”

“Bombs? Why could you possibly need bombs,” Estinien inquired, watching the women pull up chairs as their helper filled their glasses. 

“Oh relax. They’re just modified glamour prisms. Here, this is Lucia’s contribution,” Violet said,  taking her seat and crossing her legs before grabbing a small atheric pyramid and giving it a chuck at the half-naked Dragoon.

Estinien shielded himself from the coming explosion, instead feeling a pulse of aether wash over him. Opening his eyes, he found himself unharmed and in a simple blue tunic and tights. He furrowed his brow, “While the shirt is nice, I am hardly one to flaunt my lower half like a stage player.”

“Top good, bottom bad. Got it. Next,” Tataru called out, letting Violet toss the next prism.

“Something from our dear Varshahn,” Violet announced, crossing her arms as she gave the man a once over.

Estinien turned a bit, looking down his body at the knit wool Thavnairian sweater and a loose pair of slops. “This is fine” he hummed before crossing his arms, “Can I go?”

“We’re just getting started. Here’s one from Alphy,” Violet said, chucking another prism at his head.

The Dragoon grunted as he found himself transformed again, in familiar garb: his old blue dress shirt with white slacks. “Well, at least the young Lord is ever practical.”

“Indeed he is. How nice,” Tataru sighed, remembering days gone.

“Practical and boring. Perhaps something from the First,” Viole mused, digging through the prisms.

“You roped poor Ryne into your scheme too, did you,” Estinien asked before finding himself once more rushed with aether, “WHAT THE HELLS IS THIS!?”

Violet nearly fell out of her chair as the Elezen nearly toppled over in a pair of heeled boots and leggings that left little to anyone’s imagination. Atop a short dress of sorts that let his pecks peep through a little window. Tatru giggled, shaking her head while waving her hands out in front of herself while Sewingway titled their head.

“A gift from Feo Ul it seems,” Violet laughed.

“Fisher, undo this at once or I’ll-” the Dragoon started, stomping forward in his heels.

A crack sounded out, the shoe breaking under his heavy footing causing him to fall ungracefully forward onto the tile before the two. The girls continued to chortle together while Sewingway moved to help the Dragoon get back upright and into another prism so that he could abscond out the nearest window.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv oc #ff14 #ff xiv #Violet Fisher #tataru taru #nutkin #estinien wyrmblood #loporrit

[melles1276]

I'd like to hear your POV

So, my fellow FF-writers out there ... I need your advice. How do you handle POVs?

Do you write per chapter? Or do you change the POV per section? Or do you split the chapter into two POVs?

Personally, I prefer to write entire chapters with just one POV. But I'm stuck at the moment because I started a chapter with a POV (Sam Wilson), but now I just have to insert a few lines from another POV (Bucky Barnes). Normally I wouldn't do that, but it would be kind of fitting. However, I'm afraid that this way (two POVs in one chapter) might be confusing.

Let me give you an example.

Here is an excerpt of my story:

POV Sam:

“Seems so,” Steve smiled briefly. "And what's next?"

“You heard Johnson - he's going to call the bank. “Probably to negotiate with the hostage takers.”

At that moment two more large police trucks pulled up. This time the letters “S.W.A.T.” could be read on the side walls.

Sam knew what that meant - if negotiations failed, the S.W.A.T. team would be called in. And they weren't exactly squeamish and didn't shy away from breaking in with armed force. A quick glance at Steve told him that his buddy was probably thinking the same thing.

“The way Bucky put it, these two are serious opponents.”

***

POV Bucky:

The mood in the bank had become a bit sour after Bucky's solo effort. Ahab and Ismael still seemed overwhelmed by the situation. Bucky had heard snippets of words from the distance several times. Apparently they were now planning to make a ransom demand. But that alone wouldn't help. The two also needed an escape vehicle and had to rely on the cooperation of the police. The discussion became more heated, but none of the suggestions about how to best get out of here sounded convincing to Bucky.

Ismael also expressed his displeasure at being hungry.

Bucky rolled his eyes, although he secretly knew that sooner or later they would have to provide people with food and water if they wanted to prevent a riot.

Then the ringing of the telephone in the headquarters broke through and immediately the tense atmosphere was back. Nobody moved. All eyes were on the device, which was ringing incessantly. The ringing sound rang countless times and seemed to get louder each time.

“Maybe someone should answer it?” Bucky asked no one in particular.

“The fuck we will do!” Ismael sucked in a breath.

***

POV Sam:

Sam thought. There weren't many options for freeing the hostages unharmed if there was no negotiation result. He didn't get any further with his thoughts because Sergeant Silva came towards them.

“Johnson wants to talk to you.”

When they entered the command car for the second time, there was still a hustle and bustle inside.

Johnson got straight to the point: “I made inquiries about Barnes. He’s a trained sniper?”

Steve didn't answer straight away, but looked briefly at Sam. “What are you trying to get at, Captain?”

"If we manage to smuggle a weapon into the bank-"

“Whoa!” Sam interrupted. “Since when have civilians been used to eliminate hostage takers?”

“Barnes is a Sergeant in the Army. He knows his way around weapons. We could use that to our advantage.”

“Buck is no longer in the military,” Steve clarified.

“Okay, then he’s a veteran. That doesn’t change the fact that he could be helpful to us.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if the whole thing was solved without force of arms? How did the conversation with the hostage takers go?” Sam wanted to know.

“No one answered,” Johnson had to admit. “Hence our consideration of including Barnes.”

“Shouldn’t you get some perspective before you think about using firearms?” Steve interjected. “What do we know about the hostage takers?”

“At the moment…nothing yet. We are in the process of evaluating the video recordings, but so far there are not many clues because the two are masked and deactivated the surveillance cameras shortly after the storm,” Johnson replied angrily.

“And what about the getaway vehicle?”

“It was found abandoned a few streets away and is currently being examined by forensics.”

"In other words," Sam said, "you're left empty-handed and someone else should fix it now."

Johnson narrowed his eyes at him. "We still have Plan B. The S.W.A.T. team is currently positioning itself on the roof and will then move further inside."

What do you think?

#follower power #fanfiction #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writers advice #my pov #fanfic #pov in fanfics #bucky barnes #captain america #tfatws

[fidei]

We should be Christians in deed, as well as in name

The beginning of St Ignatius of Antioch's letter to the Magnesians

Ignatius, also called Theophorus, to the church at Magnesia on the Maeander, a church blessed with the grace of God the Father in Christ Jesus, our Saviour, in whom I salute you. I send you every good wish in God the Father and in Jesus Christ.

  I was delighted to hear of your love of God, so well-ordered and devout, and so I decided to address you in the faith of Jesus Christ. Honoured as I am with a name of the greatest splendour, though I am still in chains I sing with the praises of the churches, and pray that they be united with the flesh and the spirit of Jesus Christ, who is our eternal life; a union in faith and love, to which nothing must be preferred; and above all a union with Jesus and the Father, for if in him we endure all the power of the prince of this world, and escape unharmed, we shall make our way to God.

  I have had the honour of seeing you in the person of Damas your bishop, a man of God, and in the persons of your worthy presbyters, Bassus and Apollonius, and my fellow-servant, the deacon Zotion; may I continue to take delight in him for he is obedient to the bishop as to the grace of God, and to the presbyters as to the law of Jesus Christ.

  Now it hardly becomes you to presume on your bishop’s youth, but rather, having regard to the power of God the Father, to show him every mark of respect. This, I understand, is what your holy presbyters do, not taking advantage of his youthful condition but deferring to him with the prudence which comes from God, or rather not to him but to the Father of Jesus Christ, to the bishop of all. So then, for the honour of him who loves us, it is proper to obey without hypocrisy; for a man does not so much deceive the bishop he can see as try to deceive the bishop he cannot see. In such a case he has to reckon not with a man, but with God who knows the secrets of the heart.

  We should then really live as Christians and not merely have the name; for many invoke the bishop’s name but do everything apart from him. Such men, I think, do not have a good conscience, for they do not assemble lawfully as commanded.

  All things have an end, and two things, life and death, are side by side set before us, and each man will go to his own place. Just as there are two coinages, one of God and the other of the world, each with its own image, so unbelievers bear the image of this world, and those who have faith with love bear the image of God the Father through Jesus Christ. Unless we are ready through his power to die in the likeness of his passion, his life is not in us.

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 39

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ word count: 11.7k ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act five ➻ part six

You’ve come to the blinding realization that Jeong Yunho is enjoying himself far too much at this very moment. You are standing here preparing to get dragged to high heaven without relent by Hongjoong, and the healer has made himself comfortable in Hongjoong’s chair behind his desk, feet propped up on the corner with a pen dangling from his lips like it’s a piece of candy. It doesn’t help that whenever he stops staring you down, he shifts to look at the man in front of him with sex-laden eyes and you feel positively out of place in this room right now. You are also fairly certain that he’s smirking every time Hongjoong releases a deep sigh, but you can’t focus on that too much when Hongjoong is dragging this whole process out the way he is. If he would just get on with this inevitable lecture so you don’t lose any further shreds of dignity, that would be much preferred.

As though sensing the gaze on the back of his head, Hongjoong turns in his place to glare back at Yunho.

“Can you stop eye-fucking me for two seconds?”

“Not my fault you’re hot when seething with rage.” Yunho’s quip is thrown hastily back, bringing a huff from Hongjoong’s lips as he shakes his head.

“Knock it off before I kick you out.”

“Cute,” Yunho singsongs back, and he lets a smile stretch around the body of the pen between his teeth. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Now is not the time, Yunho.”

“I hardly mind an audience!”

“You won’t be allowed to go on the recovery mission for Mingi,” the captain starts at last, pointedly ignoring Yunho’s last comment as he redirects his focus to where you stand. Yunho pokes his tongue out alongside the pen, glancing between you and Hongjoong, but you only give him your attention for that brief moment. “I highly doubt I need to even begin to explain why this is my decision, but it would be best for you to hear it directly from me. Your actions last night, to put it mildly, were both irrational and childish. You reacted poorly to an already tense situation and not only put yourself at risk, but the safety of the crew at risk as well. What would have happened if you had killed Jisung last night? We would not have had the location of San and thus had no way of knowing where he is being held. You were reckless on all accounts, refusing to listen to both your captain and your lieutenant, who called out to you multiple times while you were talking with Jisung but you seemed unable to hear him in the slightest.”

All you can do is press your lips together and chew at the inside of your cheek. Hongjoong is not wrong, of course, and you would be the first to admit that your outburst last night was more than just a lapse in judgment. As for Seonghwa trying to get you to stop, you truly have no recollection of that, so if he did attempt that you were unable to hear it. There’s no telling how long Hongjoong was lingering at the edge of the room either or if he called you off at all, but those are just unnecessary details at this point.

“Trying to do things on your own out of a purely emotional reaction does nothing for the crew as a whole. Thus, there is no way in hell I would ever let you go on this mission. Allowing you to go would teach you nothing; it would simply tell you that you can get away with shit like that. And I’m telling you now that you cannot and will not under my command.” Hongjoong brings his arms up to cross over his chest. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, still leaned up against the front of his desk as before, and though his tone reads anger, you can’t find any in his posture. Yunho’s still teasing that pen between his teeth. “Yeosang and Jongho will accompany Jisung to recover Mingi according to the agreement you struck up with Jisung. Whereas you, Y/N, will remain on the bridge being monitored since you cannot seem to act like an adult on your own.”

The not-so-subtle dig should burn your pride, but this is humiliating enough to have you already in the lowest depths of your dignity.

“Along with that, we have come up with a failsafe for if Jisung acts up. If he decides to get rowdy and misbehave himself, then you will be strapped to a chair and punished for each of his missteps. That’s… not a conclusion we came to lightly and it’s not one we wish to enact as you are a member of the crew, but we are not sure how else to keep Han in line.”

“Tch, do your worst,” you scoff. You nearly mirror his stance and cross your arms over your chest, but you think twice when you see the quirk of his brow at your tone. You have pushed your luck enough in the past twenty-four hours, so perhaps you need to hold back just a tad until Hongjoong is less… on edge with you. “I was ready to kill myself last night to stop him. What more can you do to me now?”

Now, it’s Hongjoong’s turn to scoff, and the huff of air that follows is so sharp it sounds like a whistle. He pushes off the desk in the same movement, arms falling down to his sides, and with each following word, he takes a step closer to where you stand.

“You think you can afford to be reckless and risk your life over someone as insignificant and pathetic as Han Jisung?”

He’s close enough to jab a finger into your sternum now, knocking hard against the bone just beneath your collarbone. His height disadvantage from last night is gone as well; he must have had time to make himself presentable before calling you up to be drawn and quartered (seemingly for Yunho’s amusement because he’s just having the absolute time of his life over there).

“Do you have every right to act that way with him? Perhaps you do, but you will not, under any circumstances, threaten your own life to prove a point under my command.” Hongjoong presses closer, enough to hiss his next words against the shell of your ear and leaving you to stare past his shoulder directly at Yunho. “I need you alive. When you agreed to be part of my crew, you trusted me with your life. And as such, I will not allow you to throw your own life around so foolishly. Understood?” The distance between you increases as he leans back. You expect more words from him but all he does is arch a brow and stare at you with inquiry to his gaze.

“Yes, Hongjoong,” you murmur before going back to chewing at your lower lip. Hongjoong catches your chin with his index finger a moment later though, forcing you to look back at him.

“Do not mistake my kindness last night for mercy, Y/N. I am your captain still and you will regard me as such.”

“Yes, Captain,” you grit out, teeth pressed so tight that your jaw hurts as you speak. Hongjoong laughs — whether it’s at your expression or the way you force the words out is unbeknownst to you, but he steps back to give you more space after you respond. Yunho hums from his place at Hongjoong’s desk. He slips the pen out to point the tip in your direction, a cruel smile pulling the corners of his lips up.

“It seems you were right after all, Captain,” he singsongs. “Here I thought you wouldn’t be able to keep her in line.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes a bit at that but does nothing more than sending a half-hearted glare back at Yunho over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You ask as you watch their brief interaction with a narrowed gaze of your own.

“Hm, nothing, nothing. Now, the real reason I don’t want you going on the mission to retrieve Mingi is that you will be going on the team to recover San.”

“The what?” You echo, brows rising at the mention of San. Hongjoong continues as though you didn’t interrupt, not pausing to answer your question.

“I don’t want to run the crew too thin as it is, but it’s best to send more people with Jisung in the off chance he does decide to misbehave. Once that team returns, you will be dispatched with Wooyoung to recover San.” Hongjoong pauses to smile a little. “That works out best for you, does it not?”

Frankly, Hongjoong has no reason to send you on the recovery mission for San. If he were truly punishing you, he wouldn’t even let you dream of it. So why?

“Why would you let me go on that mission knowing it’s what I want? Wouldn’t a true punishment be to not send me on that mission?” You inquire against better judgment. Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his chin to the ceiling.

“The punishment,” he starts in a slow, drawling tone, “is refusing to send you on the mission you tried to plan yourself without my approval. And given how eager you are to both protect San and bring him back unharmed, I know that I can trust you to do that. Initially, I was going to send you alone on this mission but Seonghwa suggested sending Wooyoung along too.”

Even with Seonghwa locked up, they still work together on plans and missions. Despite fighting just yesterday as well. You purse your lips as you listen to Hongjoong talk, moreso because of the mention of Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s suggestion that he come along. Seonghwa knows of Wooyoung’s identity, as well as yours, and those facts combined leave you more baffled than anything else. Why the hell would Seonghwa suggest sending two Sirens off on a dangerous mission like this one?

Hongjoong pulls a hand out of his pocket to tap at his chin.

“Today will be a busy day for all of us, but it should be the last busy day for quite some time. If Jisung complies and everything goes according to plan, that is. Yeosang and Jongho will be leaving to accompany Jisung for Mingi’s retrieval in forty-five minutes. They are slated to return late afternoon. Should the mission go off without a hitch, you and Wooyoung will depart shortly after they get back. I will fill you both in on further details later when you are both present. I hesitate to interrupt whatever Yeosang and Wooyoung may be doing at present.” Yunho snorts at that comment, covering the sound with the back of his hand. “After today, you all will be able to have some time to rest and recover before we move forward. We won’t be leaving the planet immediately though. Seonghwa and I are to depart for a short mission of our own tomorrow.”

He doesn’t add any more detail to that bit of information. You can read the context clues and the shift in mood well enough though, and think you have a good grasp of what that mission might be. Subconsciously, your gaze flits over to Yunho again, but his expression is flat and unreadable, leaving nothing for you to pick up on. Hongjoong offers a strained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Even though you had many missteps last night, your conversation with Seonghwa was, for the most part, not one of them. You did well and kept your promise to leave the decision in his hands in that regard. Your errors were only in what followed that conversation. It’s not easy for someone in your position to show such empathy, yet you managed to do so anyway. Given what Seonghwa and I talked about after you were dismissed, you… you managed to make him feel a bit more human and helped him recognize that his feelings are not obsolete. So, I thank you for that much. I won’t lecture you any further for now, but I do still have many qualms with how you handled Jisung’s taunting and how that behavior affected Seonghwa in turn. I’m in a decent enough mood to not lecture you about that right now. You have earned a sliver of my trust. Work hard to get my respect next.”

You arch a brow, fighting to hold back the scoff that threatens to spill forth.

“What makes you think I want your respect to begin with?”

Hongjoong matches your expression with a fire of his own, and some light returns to his grin.

“Arrogance.”

///

The cool metal floor of the bridge burns your knees even through the thick material of your pants. You’re trying your best not to let it affect you, but the combination of the freezing cold along with Hongjoong’s unending glare on your back is nothing pleasant. You can’t see his glare head-on, which could either be viewed as a good thing or a bad one depending on your perspective. Right now, however, you find it to be unsettling: the way you kneel in front of the observation window that still overlooks a mostly empty hangar bay with Hongjoong seated in his captain’s chair behind you. It would be entirely less frightening if not for the way Hongjoong is twirling a knife in one hand and humming under his breath, just faint enough for you to overhear although you don’t recognize the tune. With one leg crossed over the other and his chin propped up on his free hand, his position only exudes power. That’s very much a power you can feel all too well in this moment, knowing exactly what the intents and purposes of that knife are.

The captain is communicating with Yeosang through the comms system, and in turn, he’s keeping tabs on Jisung’s behavior throughout their mission. You’re banking on Jisung not acting out of line so you can preferably preserve yourself from further bodily harm, but the threat looms past your shoulder nonetheless. Jongho went along with the pair, another hopeful guarantee of Mingi’s safety, yet you were not even allowed to watch them leave thanks to your behavior last night.

The silence hanging between the two of you is deafening, and your thoughts won’t settle for more than a few seconds, so you’re the one to break the silence once it starts to drag.

“Could I ask you something about tomorrow?”

“Go ahead.”

“If Seonghwa were to regret his decision, what would you do?”

It might be a bit of a loaded question, one that he could very well refuse to answer, and his sharp inhale of breath makes you believe he might just do that. Then, a few breaths later, he speaks.

“There isn’t much I could do,” he admits. “Though I would do anything and everything in my power to ease the burden on his shoulders in that case. And you? What would you do if you reach San too late? If he’s already had the serum injected?”

“Do you truly believe he has?” You inquire back, and despite your attempts to sound firm and resolute, you come across more afraid than anything else.

“I know San’s resilience well enough to believe he would never do that, but that wasn’t the question. No matter how slim the chances of failure are, you must be prepared for any possible outcome.”

“Failure?” You retort, bristling a bit where you are seated. You cast a look over at Hongjoong through the reflection, moreso just to glare at him, but you don’t think he can see you looking. “Recovering San would never be a failure. The only failure on this mission would be not being able to retrieve him.” Despite those claims, you can’t shake the thoughts of San forgetting you in your dreams the previous night. You thought the worst pain imaginable would be finding him dead, but him forgetting you before you get the change to — no, it’s not good to dwell on those concerns now.

“Does that mean then that recovering him even at the cost of his memories is still a success to you?”

“The only failure would be not rescuing him,” you reiterate, pushing your tone a bit so it echoes through the bridge. Hongjoong huffs out a laugh. “During my time in the military, I was taught to accept any possibility on a mission. Even if it’s not what I want, I have to accept that a San who is alive and well but cannot remember me is better than one who is broken, gone, or worse.”

You dare to glance over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Hongjoong’s face. He’s smiling a little, just enough to cast the shadow of a grin over his lips.

“You never would have passed for an Elitist, you know?”

“Is that supposed to be a criticism?”

“You are choosing the most logical option, yet your reasoning for doing so is purely emotional. Yeosang would have offered no explanation.”

“And yet he cried every night Wooyoung was gone.”

“Of course he did, Y/N. That’s not the point I’m trying to make,” Hongjoong states. He lifts a brow at you. “The key issue most people have when pretending to be Elitists is that they try to erase all signs of emotion. Elitists still have emotions and feel them as strongly as the rest of us. They merely ignore those emotions often in favor of more reasonable and logical outcomes. Yeosang could have cried every night for months straight, but if I had offered an illogical plan to recover Wooyoung, he would not have taken it.”

“I don’t believe that,” you counter, grumbling the words under your breath before turning back to the observation window.

“Did I hear my name? Are you guys gossiping about me without me?”

“Ah, there you are.”

You glance back immediately at the sound of the newcomer, catching the broad grin on Hongjoong’s lips as he too stands to greet Wooyoung.

“What took so long?”

“Yunho did my hair!” The man reaches behind his head and pulls back the top half of his hair as he matches Hongjoong’s smile with his own toothy one. The whole underside is a blinding blond, top half left black and hanging loose around his face. “Looks hot, doesn’t it?” Hongjoong releases what sounds like a snort then swipes a hand at Wooyoung’s. The movement sends a surge of panic through you for a second, not because you think Hongjoong would truly hit Wooyoung, but because of how the younger might react to the hasty swipe. He crushes that fear in an instant, laughing loud and clear as Hongjoong lands his palm on the other’s head and ruffles his newly dyed hair until it’s a mess atop his head.

“Ask Yeosang when he gets back. Did you make time to visit Seonghwa too?”

Wooyoung’s smile wavers some at that.

“I did, yeah.” Wooyoung glances down. Even with the odd angle, you can see the conflict in his features and the way his brows strain to keep from slipping further together. Hongjoong must see it too because he’s next to speak.

“…And?”

“It’s hard seeing him in that position,” Wooyoung says under his breath. “I’m not… not used to it and I hate every ounce of it. I don’t like seeing Seonghwa weak, and even though I know he’s not, it still feels like he is seeing him that way. Brings out old feelings I’d rather not revisit honestly.” Hongjoong brings a hand up to run through his fading blue tresses to hide the way his fingers tremble.

“I’m assuming Han wasn’t present when you went down there?”

“I went before they left this morning. With, um, with Yeosang, but Han seemed to be asleep the entire time. Didn’t move or look at us at least. We — we didn’t talk about anything important either.” Wooyoung’s gaze flits over to where you’re standing. You incline your chin a bit but stay mum, knowing the implication behind his words. They didn’t discuss anything related to Sirens, that is, which is mildly encouraging for you if that means anything at all. “Yunho was gonna head down there when we finished my hair too.”

If that surprises Hongjoong, the captain doesn’t let it show. It shocks you some, on the other hand, given that you’ve witnessed them fight and argue more than they’ve been civil in your time on the crew. Commenting on that won’t do you any good so you stay quiet, eyeing Hongjoong’s demeanor out the corner of your eye while he continues to speak to Wooyoung.

“Anyway, that’s not important right now. The mission?”

“Right, the mission,” Hongjoong mutters even though his mind seems to be elsewhere. He lifts a hand and beckons you closer, and you move to stand alongside Wooyoung near his chair. “Han disclosed the location of the military complex where San is being held. It’s further up in the Upper Echelon than the brother was but also more highly guarded.” Hongjoong pauses to spare a glance in Wooyoung’s direction. “Are you sure you want to come on this mission? I won’t force you if you don’t feel ready.”

At first, all Wooyoung manages is a thick swallow.

“I… I-I want to be ready,” he stutters after a moment of deliberation. “I want — I don’t want what happened to me to affect the well-being of the crew.”

“I can easily go in your place, Woo. I don’t mind if you don’t feel comf—”

“No,” Wooyoung interjects, shaking his head all the while, and Hongjoong actually falls quiet at the interruption. “No, then what? What’s your plan? You want to leave Seonghwa stuck in a cell with Yunho, who can’t fucking kill anyone, as his sole protector while some psychopath mills about the ship as he pleases?”

“Yeosang and Jongho will be back with Mingi by then. We have a plan for Jisung as well, to keep him somewhere out of Seonghwa’s vicinity and within reach. It will have to do temporarily, and besides, Yunho can step up when he needs to.”

“He can’t hold a gun without throwing up; what makes you think he has the balls to kill someone?”

“I — we’re working on that still, admittedly, but he’s getting better.”

“Hongjoong, I’m fine. I talked to Yunho yesterday and ran through the whole screening with him. He didn’t see an issue with me so I’m clear to go on a mission, and I am okay with going on a mission. I’ll be with Y/N the whole time, right? That should be enough! I know how to fight and defend myself. Whatever happened in that brothel shouldn’t bother me.” Wooyoung, if nothing else, is quite adamant, leaving forward into Hongjoong’s space a bit to clutch at his forearm. Hongjoong merely blinks down at the offending hand but does nothing to remove his touch before offering a hesitant nod.

“Okay, I trust you.”

“Are you worried about San?” Wooyoung inquires. His teeth sink into his lower lip moments later. If he aims to probe deeper into Hongjoong’s feelings, the captain does well to not let anything slip through his countenance.

“I worry for all of the crew. San is no different.”

“San is a bit of a special case though, isn’t he?”

Now that’s a first for you. The first you’ve heard such a thing be said about San, that is. You have known since the mission in Echidna that Hongjoong values and cares for San quite a bit. To this extent, however? You’ve not heard anything memorable. Hongjoong and Wooyoung share an unspoken conversation with just that ounce of information, and you are left to your bewilderment. Whatever it is they’re talking about, you have no idea. There’s no time to ask either because Hongjoong clears his throat and dismisses the topic as quickly as Wooyoung brought it up.

“I’ll put the coordinates of the warehouses in Channel 7, so tune over to that channel and sync your wristbands and earpieces. It will just be the three of us and Yeosang listening in this time. As soon as the others get back, Yeosang will bring Jisung to the bridge. I don’t want him with Seonghwa anymore, but we still need to keep him on lockdown for now. Jongho will take Mingi to Yunho and help look after him while you two are away. Yeosang asked to be connected for your sake.”

“Of course he did,” Wooyoung huffs. The roll of his eyes is nothing but affectionate, present but a faux annoyance.

“It’s just for precaution though; you won’t have any backup in there. Once you two are on the ground, you’re on your own.” The discomfort Wooyoung exhibits is minimal and hard to catch. It’s there, however, a shift from foot to foot and a glance over at the wall like something is about to jump out at him. Hongjoong pushes closer and drops his hands atop the younger’s shoulders. “I… hesitate to say this because I do not wish to take this choice away from you, but I think it is in everyone’s best interest to keep you off this mission.”

“No, no, I’m okay. I’m fine! I can go on the mission, Joong, I want to go on the mission,” Wooyoung rambles, head shaking frantically from side to side. “I’m strong enough, I can fight, I can r-recover San. With Y/N. We can recover San.”

“You don’t need to convince me of that, Wooyoung.” Hongjoong’s lips fold down. “I also don’t need you to go on this mission to prove that. I already know those things of you regardless.”

“I just… I w-want to be okay enough to go on the mission because everyone else is,” Wooyoung mutters loud enough for both you and Hongjoong to hear. “Everyone else is okay. I don’t want anyone to — to worry about whether I’m okay or not.”

“Wooyoung…” To your surprise, Hongjoong huffs out a laugh and cracks a strained smile. “My lieutenant has locked himself in the brig, my strategist has been tearing his hair out for days on end and I think I found a bald spot on the back of his head the other day because he’s been so stressed over recovering you, my bruiser is quieter and broods more than ever, and our dear ghost here is dealing with seeing an old teammate who manipulated her memories and kidnapped three members of the crew. I have not slept more than three hours in the past two days, and no more than twelve in the past week. The only person who is even mildly okay right now is Yunho, but that’s only because he is in denial about how much this is weighing on him and using physical pleasures as a way of coping with the stress. You don’t need to be okay because no one else is either. Not right now at least. It would taste a lie to pretend like anything about this situation is something you should be okay with. Once San and Mingi are both back and safe, and once Han Jisung is properly taken care of, then we’ll be able to rest and recover.”

“I — o-okay.” Wooyoung’s shoulders fall forward as he relents, but he doesn’t put up more of a fight. “Does Yeosang really have a bald spot though? I mean, I yanked his hair pretty hard last night because I got a bit carried away and saw something on the back of his head but I thought I was just seeing things. Is it actually there? Maybe I should be more gentle with his poor head then.”

“You — Wooyoung, I-I am not — this is hardly important!”

“Excuse you, my lover’s hair growth is extremely important!”

“He has a fucking bald spot, I already told you that much. Now, enough out of you, and get some legitimate rest while you can. Or if you’re feeling restless, you can see if Yunho needs help with anything in the medbay.”

“Yes, Captain.” Wooyoung bows his head a tad before sending a half-hearted wave in your direction. You return the gesture with a smile, watching him turn on his heel and exit the bridge the way he came. His shoulders are pushed back a bit more this time, there’s some confidence to his steps that he didn’t have when he came, and you can practically feel the relief that oozes off his body even when he’s out of sight.

“So that leaves just us then?” You ask once you tear your gaze away from the archway.

“We’ll keep Yeosang on the line since Seonghwa will still be unavailable. Nothing else about the plan will need to change.” Hongjoong turns back to sit in his chair once more, but you stay put, watching his movements out the corner of your eye.

“You mentioned going back out into the city tomorrow. When do you plan to leave for that?”

“If everything goes well today then… hm, we’ll probably leave the planet around three days from now? Just in case Yunho needs other supplies that we don’t have readily available here on the ship.”

“So there will be one last day here before we all leave? Where we should all be on the ship, I mean?” Teeth sink into your lower lip after you pose the question. Hongjoong’s gaze turns analytic and searching, but you offer no more information as it is.

“Yes…” He affirms after several seconds of hesitation. “Why is it you’re so curious?”

“Something has been bothering me since recovering Wooyoung from the brothel.”

“Enlighten me.”

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting to even get this far with the conversation. Part of you thought Hongjoong would shut you down before you got a chance to explain yourself, and all the thoughts you had of bringing this up to him were fleeting and momentary. The lack of prior planning makes you stop in your tracks and stutter over air.

“I – in, um, while Jongho and I were waiting for Yeosang to go through, I c-came across a girl who used to be on my team. Back in the military, I mean. She was a worker there and apparently has been since my team defected. It’s… I understand that I’m not in any position to ask for things, and she didn’t ask me to help her in any way, but I can’t help but to want to get her out of there. Seeing what Wooyoung suffered in there wasn’t pleasant, and I can’t rest easy thinking of her suffering the same way.”

Sure you promised Soojin that you would help her find leads on Ash and Juyeon without saying you would help her get out, but her only reason for not wanting freedom was the lack of a place to go. “I don’t have anything left out there beyond the House.” If you could do anything to convince Hongjoong to take her in, even just for a short period of time to get her back on her feet, that would be more than ideal.

“You can’t rest easy? Then forget about her.”

“I — what?” You should not have let yourself have an ounce of hope, it seems.

“Put her out of your mind and forget about her if you do not wish to imagine her suffering.”

“Hongj— Captain, I can hardly—”

“Y/N, your former teammates seem to have a streak of being less than kind. Don’t forget how you acted in your first few days on the ship. How can I trust someone I don’t even know to not do the same? And all things considered, I cannot trust your memory to recall the truth.” Hongjoong lifts his brows as he speaks. There is no anger in his features or in his tone; moreso a sense of finality that offers the smallest window for you to argue back on the matter. You take the chance nonetheless.

“She can vouch for herself seeing as she helped us escape. You can ask Jongho and Wooyoung as well, they witnessed it as well as how she helped me. Jisung tried to kill her the night of the mission — he sent an assassin to dispatch her before she could see me simply because he knew we would come across each other. And she told me part of what truly happened the night I killed the king, and I believe what she said.” You pause to inhale a deep breath of air, lungs straining from the sheer amount of air you are trying to force into them. “Captain, I am not looking for you to drop everything for her. The last two living teammates of my team left with her, but she was alone with no knowledge of where they are or if they are even alive.”

“Why waste time thinking of the dead?”

“Why forget about them when there is even the slightest chance they’re alive?” You counter. You don’t intend to sound so inflamed about the topic, but the heat resides in your tone and burns the tense air hanging between you and the captain. His jaw shifts. “I would be content even if you could only promise that I have a way to deliver information about them back to her if possible. I know you have contacts here on Dorado.”

“And I suppose you’ve come up with an entire escape plan as well?”

“I — no, I hadn’t thought of that. To be honest, I’m not even sure she wants to be saved, but that could only be because she doesn’t see a way out.”

“You have a knack for wanting to save people who don’t want to be saved. You and Seonghwa are similar in that matter, but there comes a time where you must realize you can’t be everyone’s savior.”

“What do you mean by that?”

One corner of Hongjoong’s lips quirks upwards, and he arches a brow to match the movement.

“Is it really that hard to figure out? The pardon papers, to begin with, the whole reason you even met the crew. Did you think I had no clue of what your intentions were on that military ship? Especially when my intentions were the same? Imagine my surprise when I arrived in the captain’s cabin to learn you had taken them already.”

“Why did you hold off on that information all this time?” You had been convinced at the time that it was for no other reason than to cause a bit of chaos and steal some cargo. But to find out that Hongjoong had the same goal? What’s his play here?

“I no longer need those papers so it would have been futile to mention them before now. They were meant to be a bargaining chip for the client I met on Echidna, but seeing as he is dead and gone… hardly important, no? But that’s beside the point — your intentions are what we’re discussing. Who were those papers meant for? Had they been for you, you wouldn’t still be lingering around the crew like this, would you? I think you imagined you would be able to save Jisung in some way with them.”

“Hardly!” You sneer back, clutching blindly at your chest as though to find the spot where you used to hide those papers. They aren’t there anymore, you know that, and yet you still ball a fist around the fabric over your chest. “They were never meant for him, but I didn’t imagine this was the kind of person he would turn out to be!”

“Then they were meant for this girl you came across? One of the other two who are missing? Or perhaps was it another, who is no longer present? What is it you think death really is, Y/N? Why do you keep clinging to someone who is no longer alive? What good does pardoning him do?”

You have no response or defense. Nothing you say will appease Hongjoong; you believe that with every fiber of your being, and the way he is staring you down currently offers no relief.

“You see, Y/N,” Hongjoong starts as he pushes up off his seat. He stays up on the platform with his chair, looming over you with the height of the stairs to his advantage, and now there’s a special glint to his gaze that leaves you transfixed. “Your issue that when it comes time to make a difficult decision, when push comes to shove, you turn tail and run. If I had given you a single key last night and told you that you had the power to release one person in the brig, who would you have chosen?”

“Seonghwa.”

“Who would you have chosen?” Hongjoong persists, stepping further into your space.

“What are you trying to get at? I gave my answer already. It would be Seonghwa, and that’s that.”

“And if it had been before the conversation we shared before you went into the brig?”

“It never would have been Jisung,” you snap back.

“All he had to say was ‘I’ll take you to San’ and you would have released him without a second thought.”

Fuck.

Fuck. You have to clench your jaw to keep from exhaling your frustration, but it only highlights your annoyance.

“You’re saying you wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t, because I know he would have given up that information eventually, Y/N.” Hongjoong’s gaze is anything but smug and gloating — if anything he’s regarding you with no emotion at all. It’s still enough to cause you to drop your chin to your chin and huff out a mirthless laugh.

“Is this the part where you say caring is weakness?”

“No, I would be quite the hypocrite if I said that. I’m telling you that you have to accept the fact that there are people who cannot be saved. Whether that’s because they do not wish to be saved or because it is impossible to save them. Let yourself care about people; that’ll keep you alive. But caring too much? There’s your weakness.”

“That’s bold of you to say, is it not? Where’s the line then, Captain? When it becomes love?”

“Love? Love is a concept made by weak people for those with even weaker wills.”

And when Hongjoong breathes those words, you almost believe them. Face value, meaningless terms such as love — what good have they ever done you? You and Seonghwa never loved each other, not truly at least because otherwise, things wouldn’t have fallen apart the way they did. Your memories tell you that Jisung loved you in some sense at one point but what did that do? Cause him to have a psychotic break? Cause you to ruin the only good you had in your life?

You hate the image that comes to the forefront of your mind. The memory that accompanies it is almost more painful.

“But I just feel like I’m broken glass that’s been put back together the wrong way.”

“Then I’ll take you apart and put you back together the right way.”

You clench a fist by your side, squeezing the skin around your knuckles in a way that has your nail digging into it. It does nothing to will away the dimpled smile in your mind, nor does it make your breathing come any easier, but Hongjoong continues on and offers enough distraction for you to ground yourself.

“Depending on how today and tomorrow go, I will consider our options and what’s possible for your friend. But I will not risk the safety of my crew again.”

“What happens once San and Mingi are back?” You inquire, head tilting naturally to the side. “Do you plan to kill Jisung and be done with it or…?”

Hongjoong’s initial response is a firm shake of his head.

“We’re already weak and spread thin as it is. I can’t risk endangering the crew further by starting a war between Jisung’s crew and ours.”

“Jisung won’t just leave if you ask him to.”

Hongjoong’s gaze flits over to the side, a hasty and clever avoidance of your stare as he finds purchase on some dent in the wall.

“Yunho and I did some talking last night… about the serum and how it works.”

“Is that your definition of pillow talk?” You scoff. Hongjoong jerks his head back in your direction and settles a sharp glare on you that holds little actual anger to it.

“Jisung knows a lot about it and how it works. Yunho hopes to be able to get some information out of him once he’s back with the others. We still have leftover vials from the Kebos mission. If you wanted, we could administer a dose on Jisung and make him forget all about you.”

“If I wanted,” you echo, pointing a finger at yourself as you emphasize the word.

“If you wish for the choice to be in my hands, then I can be cruel for you. But just as with Seonghwa and his mother, as well as Mingi and his choice to not use the serum, this is something personal. The choice is yours to make as he is your past and not mine.”

“I’ll consider it,” you whisper. The weight of that choice is undeniable even if tempting because of how glorious a revenge it would be to do the same thing he did to you back to him. Just doing it back to him won’t fix what Jisung did to you, however, nor will it bring Hyunwoo back from that empty grave. “You sure are giving me a lot of choices for someone who is supposedly upset at me.”

“Hm, well, you are also not allowed to go back to the brig unsupervised from now on. Does that work for you? Ample punishment?”

“Nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Punishment is never effective for people like you, Y/N,” Hongjoong retorts. “It doesn’t encourage you to do better because you do not care about having to go through some sort of punishment. Keeping you from going to get san would only make you more likely to go against my orders. You are someone who needs different consequences for your actions. You don’t like being held back or feeling small and powerless? I strip you of what power you imagine yourself to have and hold you back from minute things like going to the brig alone.”

“That’s not true,” you scoff, arms coming up to cross over your chest at the same time.

“Oh? And what if I told you right now that I was disappointed in your actions last night? That I thought I could trust you to not make rash decisions, to think with your head and not your heart? I told you earlier that I still have qualms about how you handled Jisung and what effect that had on Seonghwa. Whatever respect I had for you before then was lost in that moment. You may have a sliver of my trust, but respect? You lack that entirely.”

“Don’t say meaningless things, Captain, it doesn’t suit you.” You bite the words out between gritted teeth. If anything, your show of anger only amuses Hongjoong further. “That means nothing to me, as I said before. Why should I care about your respect?”

“Do you truly mean that, Y/N? People like you thrive off the approval of others. Is that not why you let yourself be entangled with Seonghwa for so long? I wouldn’t expect those feelings of respect to linger if I were you.”

“Do you simply thrive on taunting me?” The counter betrays how stupidly affected you truly are by his statements and questions. And deep down, sure, you know he is absolutely correct in saying all that, and you blatantly ignored a lot of things in favor of latching onto the respect and care Seonghwa provided, but for someone as arrogant as Hongjoong to point it out? You hardly want to agree with him now.

“Follow me.”

You could stand your ground and deny the captain, put on a little tantrum and show your denial, but in the long run, that would only prove Hongjoong right. So, against what you truly want to do, you push your legs into action and trail after Hongjoong when he begins to step away from his chair. Admittedly, you are waiting for the hammer to drop: perhaps he’s bringing you to an airlock and finally knocking you out of it. Nothing happens though, and you are left to glare at the clacking heels of his boots as he leads you further down into the ship. It isn’t until you reach your destination that you realize exactly where Hongjoong has taken you.

It’s a rich form of torture from him, to take you to the brig as though to taunt you with your regrets from last night. He doesn’t even bat an eye as he lifts the hatch and motions for you to enter. At the very least, Jisung’s cell is empty (as expected) and he cannot add to the mockery of your pride and dignity.

The moment your boots hit the floor, the rattling of Seonghwa’s chains resound. Hongjoong follows, hitting louder than you did, then the hatch snaps shut and seals you inside the brig like it’s your doomsday.

“Y/N?” Seonghwa calls out. He must have felt the tug in his chest that you did when you hit the floor, the tiniest bit of connection holding the two of you together. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Wooyoung perhaps felt the same just now.

Instead of finding you, however, Seonghwa is forced to greet Hongjoong first as the captain rounds the corner before you do.

“Joong…” Seonghwa starts, trailing off as he sees you standing just past the captain’s shoulder. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Hongjoong doesn’t answer immediately; he approaches Seonghwa’s cell and reaches a small hand between the bars to catch hold of his lieutenant’s chin. His grip isn’t tight or bruising, just enough to guide Seonghwa’s face up so he can look the other in the eye.

“What was it you told me last night after I dismissed Y/N?”

“…I would not repeat it in front of her, Captain.”

“You said you were scared. You were afraid of what you saw in her right then, that’s what you said. Was it not?”

“I — it was, yes, but I—"

“You told me that you saw a direct reflection of yourself in her. The version of yourself that you fear and hate the most. Did you or did you not say that?”

“Please, Hongjoong, is this not cruel?” Seonghwa begs. He doesn’t budge from Hongjoong’s grasp but he spares a few darting glances your way as he speaks. Hongjoong follows his line of sight to land on where you’re standing several feet away.

“This is a lesson in obedience for you, Y/N. You want to be feared? Fine, go out and be feared by our enemies. But your own crew should never be afraid of you. How do you expect them to trust something they fear?”

You clench your fists by your side. White-hot anger swells in your chest.

“That’s unfair. Do you say the same thing to Mingi?” You snap back, but you’re unable to bring yourself to look at Seonghwa.

“You are not Mingi, Y/N. Far from it actually. And as such I will not have my crew fear you or what you might do. You don’t care for my disappointment or respect? So be it. But I hope you dwell on the knowledge that Seonghwa, the man who knows you possibly better than anyone else on the crew, who has been with you intimately, laid with you in the most vulnerable positions possible, a man who has put his life and well-being in your hands, was afraid of you because of your actions last night.” Hongjoong’s fingers curl a little harder under Seonghwa’s chin, and the captain returns to staring the chained man in the eye when he speaks next. “I asked one thing of you last night, Y/N, and you promised to uphold it.”

“I am willing to trust you with this and with Seonghwa, at least for now. Take care to remember that, especially when it comes to Seonghwa’s heart. For if you mislead him in the slightest, there will be hell to pay.”

“Instilling fear into my lieutenant’s heart was a poor choice on your part.”

“It wasn’t — I didn’t choose to do that!”

“The ice under your feet is quickly cracking, Y/N, so I suggest you take great care with your next words and actions. Otherwise, I will make certain that your only purpose here is to be nothing but a key to my treasure.”

“Hongjoong, don’t you dare sa—”

His hold on Seonghwa disappears in a quick shove, the chains around Seonghwa’s neck rattling as he moves with the push. The lieutenant falls silent in an instant, and he squeezes his eyes shut as though to keep himself from fighting back. Your fists tighten by your sides but you don’t dare move when Hongjoong’s glare is so full of animosity that it could burn you from across the room.

“Be prepared to leave within the next thirty minutes before I change my mind about bringing you on this mission. The others will return soon.”

“Y/N — Hongjoong.” Seonghwa pushes himself up enough to stretch a hand through the bar and catch the end of Hongjoong’s coat tail. “Do not do this, please, this is far from what I wanted! You promised to protect her and—”

“And I am still protecting her. As long as she remains useful.”

“H-He, Y/N, he doesn’t — he’s not… that’s not what he means!”

“If you wish me to be your perfectly silent little weapon, Captain, then so be it,” you spit, ignoring Seonghwa’s pleas. Hongjoong yanks his jacket free of the man’s grasp and steps out of his reach. “But only because I benefit from this too. When it comes time for me to uphold my end of the bargain to Jisung, don’t expect me to be as willing to stay in your care.”

“Y/N, no, no, no—”

“You don’t get to talk, Seonghwa, not when you were the first to let me go.” That stops the lieutenant in his tracks because he knows you have him pinned there. Still, his jaw works in a hapless rhythm that leaves him with stuttering breaths and small noises of frustration.

“That was — that was before I-I knew what he was like, Y/N.”

“I won’t have this conversation in front of an audience, Seonghwa,” you mutter. It’s moreso an attempt to save yourself from the all too painful clench in your chest. If either man before you notices that, they opt not to comment on it, but Hongjoong gives a small shake of his head.

“Then you have thirty minutes to have it now. You had best be at the west airlock by then,” he says just before shoving past you with nothing more than a tiny glance back at Seonghwa. You are of half a mind to follow him out without a word, to leave Seonghwa where he is because you have been avoiding this exact conversation, but you can’t get your legs to function even after the hatch to the brig falls shut behind Hongjoong when he exits.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, Y/N, and you don’t—”

“That’s not the issue here, Seonghwa,” you interject before he can finish the thought. The next sound to leave his lips is a laugh but it sounds so heartless and void of life that guilt twinges in your chest.

“Is it because I said I was afraid of you? Or has your heart finally grown cold towards me as I expected it to from the start?”

“Don’t say that.” You intend for the words to come out with venom, but they sound more like a heartbroken plea than anything else. Seonghwa licks the edges of his dry and cracking lips. “Do you think I’m so cruel?”

“It… no, Y/N, I don’t. It’s because I don’t that I think it’s only a matter of time.” Seonghwa forces a hand up to curl into his dark locks, tugging at the strands at best he can as his chains rattle around him. “I think your heart is too big for your chest, just like San. And even if it was not my intention, I think I used that against you in many ways.”

“I was the one who initiated things, Seonghwa. I asked you to… to have sex with me and distract me. I used you to start with, so I know I carry blame as well.”

“I still pushed you even though I knew how much San means to you.”

“That…” You trail off only because emotion lodges so deep in your throat that it hurts. Swallowing it back down hurts even more, but you manage it without more than a grimace. “At the time, I didn’t realize what that meant or what he meant to me. Even now, I don’t think I fully grasp what my feelings are towards him. That doesn’t mean — I never resented you, and I still don’t.”

“Separation has the power to make us realize things we were blind to,” Seonghwa mutters back. “It made me realize I was unfair to you, even after I promised I would not have you unfairly.”

“I didn’t think it to be unfair.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t.”

“Why are you so desperate to be a martyr?”

“Why won’t you accept that I wronged you?”

“Do you want me to hate you?” You fire back, taking a quick step in Seonghwa’s direction. He straightens some and pulls himself to his knees.

“I don’t know how to fix the places where I went wrong. I… I wish to hear them from you if only to know that you know what I did wrong, or — or just understand that it’s not merely my mind trying to trick me.” Seonghwa looks weak again: pressed on his knees in a way that must hurt, head hanging to hide his eyes, fists clenched around the fabric of his pants. As confident and strong as he sounds, his posture only reads weakness.

“I never thought about it, Seonghwa,” you admit through the breath of silence that follows. “Perhaps we were both blind to it at the time because we — well, I thought you were all I had. I didn’t know what Wooyoung was at the time, I didn’t ever have another Siren in my life, and you were the first person I had with who I could share that burden. I understand withholding information about Wooyoung’s identity from the others, but why me? Especially given that you all knew there was some sort of connection between us. You still held that back from me until there was no more avoiding it. And you did the same with your… relationship with Hongjoong, and I’m not one to be jealous or demanding, but if you still loved him — and I think we both know how you feel about him even now — then I wish you had said that. I should have told you how I felt about San at the time as well, especially as I began to realize it more and more.”

“I would have told you about Wooyoung in an instant, I promise you that much, Y/N. If it had been my place, I would never have let you believe we were alone in that way. But Wooyoung was never ready to tell you until he didn’t have a choice any longer.”

“And as for your lingering feelings towards Hongjoong?”

“I should have told you sooner, yes. I truly believed… I didn’t imagine those feelings were still lingering until I was faced with almost losing him.” Seonghwa at last shifts his pathetic stance, folding his legs under his body until he’s in a more comfortable sitting position.

“When we talked about me leaving with Jisung, and — Seonghwa, you didn’t hesitate to say that your fate is to die at Hongjoong’s side. I just wanted you to ask me to stay. But you didn’t ask me to, and your first reaction wasn’t to do that either. You’ll never be mine, Seonghwa. Not completely, and… right now, in this present we’re living in, I don’t think you can ask me to be okay with that. If you love both of us, then so be it. I see no fault in that, and I’m not trying to say you are at fault for it either, but that moment hurt more than I think you realize.”

“Then I apologize,” he whispers. He lifts his chin just a hair, enough to look you in the eye and enough for you to see the steely resolution in his gaze.

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

“I believe there I need to apologize for many things. But primarily, I led you to believe I would be wholly yours knowing — knowing that I would never be able to give you that. Y/N, I did not lie to you once about how I felt. Even if my previous promises were empty in your eyes, please know I am genuine in saying that.”

“I’m sorry too, for not realizing my feelings sooner and leading you in a different direction all the while.”

“I have to respectfully disagree, Y/N.” Seonghwa smiles a little, although it’s a sad little grin that’s tight-lipped and doesn’t reach his eyes. “You didn’t lead me on, from my point of view. As you said, until Wooyoung’s revelation, you thought I was all you had. I think it was only natural for us to pursue each other on a physical level in that way. Feelings were bound to get complicated eventually. I knew they would because that’s how it was with Hongjoong so I… should have known earlier on.” Seonghwa lets out a shaky sigh. The smile crumbles and leaves no trace behind, only drifting into a thin line. “San cares about you a lot, Y/N, and I wish for you to have someone like him who can give you his all.”

“Bold of you to give such advice when you and Hongjoong continue to dance around each other,” you whisper through a grin. Either the words or the warmth of your tone bring a genuine huff of laughter out of Seonghwa’s chest.

“It’s what we do best. Yunho is good for him in lots of ways. He needs someone who can fuck with no strings attached and without feelings getting in the way of things. Yunho loves all of us in different ways, and how that love manifests is different for everyone as well. I cannot fault him for comforting Hongjoong the only way Hongjoong knows how.” Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, but the smile persists, and it looks more like he’s visiting an old memory somewhere in the back of his mind rather than that he is in pain. “Don’t worry about me, Y/N. You should focus on getting San back and making sure he does not slip through your fingers this time.”

“I think I’ll always worry about you, pretty boy.” You hate how fragile your tone is; there’s too much of a tremor to it, and you sound far too sad for the smile painting your lips.

“Always is a long time, princess.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t mind always.” Seonghwa hums. It’s a content and pleased little sound, nothing indecent, yet his lips tremble even as he pushes his tongue between his teeth. If his eyes were open, you’re confident you would see red rimming his irises and clear tears ready to fall.

There is nothing left to say for now: maybe at some point in the future this is a conversation to revisit and resurrect, but now it’s final in a bittersweet sense. The feeling of walking away this time hurts more than it usually would, although you think you might be able to feel the ache in Seonghwa’s chest without being Sirens. There’s no use in wondering if he feels the ache in yours — the line between his pain and yours is a thin and blurring one, overlapping and twisting together with two threads of different colors. And if Seonghwa has always been a fire in your eyes, then his would be a bright red thread that twists around your finger and keeps you linked to him even as you leave the brig.

The time to feel sad and mourn the loss of whatever feelings lingered between you and Seonghwa is far from now. Perhaps that is cruel torture in and of itself. To lose the chance to mourn is something you think you’re familiar with, but there’s no guarantee that those memories are real. So instead of crying or letting the pain swell, you merely bite down hard on the tip of your tongue until that ache moves elsewhere. It’s enough for now; the thought of what your next mission is and how important it is chases all other thoughts away.

San has been gone long enough.

You’ll take him back if it’s the last thing you do.

“Y/N!”

That voice tears you free of the thoughts plaguing you, and you jolt to a halt in the middle of the hallway you’re currently standing in to find the source of the voice. There’s a flash of black before you. Panic thrums in your nerves, a quick fear that you might be under attack, but then something warm hits you. It’s like a wave, washing over your insides and dispelling that fear as quickly as it appeared.

“Wooyoung,” you exhale just before your eyes settle on his bright and smiling face.

“Mingi’s back, they got Mingi back! They’re coming in the airlock now, let’s go!” Wooyoung grins from ear to ear, the smile splitting his cheeks and making his face glow with joy. You let him grab hold of your wrist without complaint, and he tugs you further down the corridor. “They said he’s okay. Healthy too. Safe. He’s safe. They healed his wound at the warehouse to prep for his treatment, but Jongho and Yeosang got to him before they could hurt him any.”

“One step closer to having to leave,” you murmur, moreso to yourself than to the man before you. He picks up on the words nonetheless, and his hurried steps slow to a dragging walking pace that has you regretting opening your mouth.

“What?” He asks. The smile falls into a deep-seated frown, and you hate it. You hate it so much. The idea of leaving them like this, even if Hongjoong swore not to let you go, you don’t see any other way for this to end peacefully. The only way for everyone involved to come out of this safe and in one piece is for you to go along with your deal with Jisung.

“Nothing,” you whisper. Wooyoung tightens his fingers around your wrist.

“No, what do you mean by that? Having to leave?”

“Oh, come on, Wooyoung,” you laugh through your teeth. “Did you think there was no cost for getting the three of you back? Let’s just go see Mingi. We don’t need to talk about this now.” You try to pull your arm free of Wooyoung’s grip to no avail. All he does is yank you back to face him when you step around his body.

“What did you do?”

“What I had to, Wooyoung. He wasn’t going — he wouldn’t have helped us find you without a price.”

“And the price was you?” Wooyoung cries, loud enough to echo off the metal around your forms. “He doesn’t get to own you, Y/N!”

“It’s not ownership. I’ll go along with him long enough to — to figure something out, then I’ll leave and—”

“And what? You think a man like that will just let you leave?”

“Look, Wooyoung, I knew what I was getting into. I agreed to it myself because I wanted to and because it was the closest thing to a guarantee of your safety, as well as San’s and Mingi’s. If this is the price for your lives, then so be it. It’s okay.”

“Like hell it is. He’ll get my fist put through his throat for even thinking about it,” Wooyoung hisses, nose scrunching up as his face contorts into a scowl. You have to bite your tongue to keep from rolling your eyes.

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Too fucking bad.” Wooyoung shoves your arm down with a huff. You don’t even have a second to breathe before he’s rushing back down the hall, continuing your path from earlier and moving so quickly that you have to jog to catch up to him.

“You’re mad at me for saving your life?” You retort to his back. It does nothing to stop him, and the only reaction you get out of him at first is the tension in his shoulders. “As I recall, you threw yourself down for San and Mingi while captured!”

“That was to fucking protect all of us! I knew what I was doing, I knew I would be safe, and I knew they couldn’t hurt me any more than I’ve hurt myself, Y/N.” Wooyoung reels on you just before turning the corner at the end of the corridor. The rage in his expression is more than you can handle, much more intense than you imagined it would be. “We may be similar — we might have pieces of our pasts that line up and mirror each other. But don’t think for a fucking second that I’m supposed to roll over and let you do what I would do. I’m stupid, I’m a fucking idiot, I’ll take whatever punishment I think I can to protect people, and I always fucking go too far. You are going too far. And I refuse to let some asshole with a god complex pretend like he has the power to own another human being. You might be okay with the idea of it, you might think it isn’t as bad as you imagine it to be, but as for me? I refuse to let you lose your freedom. I will put myself on the line any day before I let anything happen to this crew.”

Your jaw stutters dumbly as you struggle to come up with a counterattack. Wooyoung doesn’t wait for you to figure one out either; he returns to his stampede down the hall and leaves you to play catch up once more. And admittedly, by the time you do catch up, there is nothing you could possibly do to keep him from reaching his end goal. Someone opens their mouth to greet him, but you don’t even have time to process whose voice it is before they’re cut short by Wooyoung’s next move.

“Wooyo—”

Wooyoung’s knee careens into a body and hits so hard that body crumples in half. It’s only when Wooyoung threads his fingers through dark hair and yanks upwards that you catch who exactly it is. Jisung stumbles with the motions, chains rattling and shaking as he does. Wooyoung gives him only a second to catch his breath before he’s shoving Jisung face first into the metal wall.

“Hi there,” Wooyoung huffs with another tug to Jisung’s scalp. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting officially yet. You’ve been quite lucky to be in the care of such merciful people.”

“You can’t possibly be the mongrel Y/N has been so distressed about, can you?” Jisung spits over his shoulder. Wooyoung grins wide at that, cheeks pressing upwards and eyes turning to half-moons.

“No.” Another harsh shove and Jisung’s head bounces against the wall.  “No, Jisung, I’m the man who is going to make you regret every second of life you’ve had if you even think about laying another finger on her.”

You tug your stare off the pair to glance around, mostly in search of Mingi, and as Wooyoung said, the Berserker does seem relatively safe and unharmed. Almost like he wasn’t even gone aside from a fading bruise on his cheekbone. He’s got one hand balled into a fist and the other tucked into the safety of Jongho’s palm. It’s not enough of a guarantee that he’s okay mentally and emotionally, but at least seeing him visibly alright is reassuring in and of itself. Yeosang stands close to Hongjoong, unmoving and staring forward at Wooyoung without trying to stop him. Hongjoong himself doesn’t do anything either, and you realize then that this is a moment of retribution for all of them in some way. Even me, you think as Jisung writhes under Wooyoung’s tightening grip.

“Get in line then,” he manages to hiss, even if it’s muffled by the wall. “These three dumbasses already left me with many colorful threats the entire way back here.”

“Oh, I will, but you should be aware that there is one person at the end of that line who will end your life in a heartbeat for even thinking you could own Y/N. And he’s about to come back to this very ship that you’re trapped on. So how about you start barking again and see what happens?”

Hongjoong finally pulls forward, and when he does, he wears a wide smile and folds his arms over his chest. He only steps forward enough to lurk just past Wooyoung’s shoulder, standing with a slight tilt so he can look at Jisung out the corner of his eye.

“Checkmate, Han. Let’s see what good your dogs can do with their king backed into a corner.”

✧✧✧ a/n: oakyoakyokayokayo so admittedly i ended up splitting this chapter up and moving the second half of it to the NEXT chapter bc yeah this one would have been over 20k if i didn’t whoopsie! but here we are lots of talking ! in this one, the action comes in the next one bc of the way i shifted things so eheheheh :3 the next might comes sooner than usual we shall see ;) as always ! let me know what u think n how u feel !

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @haotheheckk @noonawriter @lostscenarios @nlost21 @mirror-juliet @purple-aeon​ @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit @babydolljo @scintillating-souls @khjssss @icekdy @eggteez @bangtanxberm @uglychildd @lucymultistan @revehosh @choistan @vampyrejimin @unminuit @vitaminkel-c

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mists of celeste #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #ateez angst fluff smut #ateez series #ateez pirates #ateez space pirates

[mckkachins]

gif cut-out tutorial

ok ok so @subtledean requested a tutorial on how to do stuff like this post with the gif cutouts and the text effects. hopefully this helps aria ;w; i’m not the best at explaining things but i included some screencaps for clarity. i’ve tried to compress all the sample gifs and screenshots down to under 3mb to avoid tunglr compression on mobile so if they look a little different from the actual gifset, that’s probably why!

what you’ll need:

photoshop, i’m using PS 2021 but any version of photoshop will work out

a basic knowledge of gif-making (i’m assuming you already know how to make a gif and color it).

step 0: storyboard

this isn’t strictly necessary but i HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend it. you don’t have to do any photoshopping this first step, but it’s really important to check out your footage and the shots you have gathered to see what works, especially if you’re trying to combine three or more gifs onto the same canvas. like literally take a piece of paper and draw out where you want the character’s faces to be, where you want the cutouts to be in relation to their faces, and think about whether or not there’s enough empty space to the right or left of characters heads for a cutout to be placed. is there too much movement that would be distracting or messy in an already busy gif?

things like that really help, and it also makes you double check on your footage quality and feasibility. if you end up making a gif where you want one character’s face to be on the left side of the gif but it turns out there’s not enough empty space on the right side of their face to place a cutout and you then have to hunt for new footage or start all over, it’s kind of a trainwreck and you just waste another hour of your time as you deepen your procrastination hellhole. that’s not a real story—

step 1: make the base gif

i’m assuming you know how to color it already. and aria i KNOW you know how to color already so :) size it accordingly to your desired dimensions.

as you can see, i left enough space on the right side of abaddon for the knight cutout to be placed.

save this as a .psd file. you don’t actually have to sharpen and do everything that comes at the end of making a gif right away, but make sure your layers are clearly labeled. do NOT convert to video timeline/smart object just yet.

step 2: make the cutout gif

this is critical: make absolutely certain your cutout gif has the same number of frames as your base gif. otherwise it could get really messy! abaddon has 20 frames, so the cutout will also have 20 frames. again, do not convert the cutout gif to a video timeline/smart object. just keep it as a frame animation. here’s my cutout gif. it’s just a simple b&w gif but i added a touch of purple for color consistency sake whatnot.

now for this particular gif i’ve actually cropped abaddon to be roughly exactly where i would want her face to be in relation to the first gif, but that is unnecessary. helpful, but unnecessary. you do NOT need the cutout gif to be cropped exactly perfect in order to make this work.

step 3: combining the two gifs

there are many different ways to combine two gifs onto the same canvas. some people like to do it via video timeline. i prefer to do it by frames and convert everything to a video timeline only at the end (it’s just a personal preference). here’s a tutorial if you prefer working with timelines, but i’m gonna go over how to do it by frames.

first group everything in your base gif into one folder. then group everything in your cutout gif into one folder as well. you can name them however you want to keep track of things.

then, select all of the frames in your cutout gif. in this case, all 20 of b&w abaddon get selected. make sure its not just frames 4-20 or whatever, but all the frames you made. you can click frame one and then shift-click your last frame to double check.

click the timeline tab group options bar and then go to options > copy frames

now go to your base gif canvas. select ALL the frames of your base gif as well (it’s critical that all of them are selected).

now do options > paste frames.

a popup should appear and you’re going to select the “paste over selection” option. do not link layers.

your cutout gif should now be completely or partially obscuring your base gif. however, now you should see two groups on your sidebar of layers. one for the base, one group for the cutout. if you labelled them with names you can tell which one is which.

step 4: creating the cutout

in order to create the cutout, we use my favorite thing in the whole world of photoshop. layer masks.

to make a layer mask, you simply select a layer or group you want to mask and then click this little icon on the row of icons at the bottom of your layers panel.

white on a layer mask means whatever group or layer is getting masked is completely visible. black on a layer mask means that the group or layer is invisible. if there is 50% gray on a layer mask, then its 50% visible. so on and so forth.

i love these so much i abuse them on the daily. i’ve made a few gifs where i’ve masked every frame one by one because i wanted to get some cool effects. admitting that kind of embarrasses me but oh well.

anyway this is simple though. just find a picture or an outline of a knight. i used these boyes:

obviously i cropped out the knight of the bunch, got rid of the watermark, and then i placed it on the canvas where i wanted it to go.

select the interior of the knight with the magic wand tool. should be pretty simple since it’s all black.

now click over to your layer mask. make sure you have selected the mask and not the group. you can tell you have selected the mask when a little white rectangle pops up on it.

when you know you have the mask selected, click command+i or control+i to invert. if for some reason you do not have this keyboard shortcut, just take a brush tool and color over the area in complete black. as long as the magic wand tool is still selecting just the interior of the knight, it should be fine.

now once again, black means a layer will NOT be showing, white means a layer will be showing. so right now after i disable the visibility of the top layer we used as a reference for the silhouette, it looks like:

do not fear the clownery. layer masks are great because they are always non-destructive. meaning that even if you somehow mess up and your canvas is showing something completely gross, you can always go back and edit your layer mask and your original gif would be unharmed as long as you did not touch any layers in the group, only the mask. simply invert the mask (again, make sure your mask is selected and then command+i or image > adjustments > invert) to get:

for a layer mask that looks like:

you could have also just made a black layer mask to begin with and then inverted the knight outline to be white. many different ways to do the same thing.

another tip: if you select your outline and then click layer mask upon a group or layer with no mask at the current moment, it will automatically make a layer mask with your selection as white and the unselected pixels as black. this is normally how i do my cutouts, because it’s a time-saver even if it like. saves a few seconds max. but i typed out the above for explanation and clarity, so hopefully i didn’t just make anyone more confused.

anyway.

now say you don’t like where the cutout abaddon is positioned. layer masks can also be linked or unlinked, depending on the little link icon you see between the group and the layer mask in the image above. if the icon is visible, the layer mask and the group are linked. if you cannot see the link icon, they are unlinked.

linked layer masks will move in conjunction with the group if any type of transform is done upon them. if the group moves, the layer mask also moves. but if a layer mask is unlinked, you can move the mask and the group independently of one another. for instance, i can change where the cutout is located on the overall canvas of the gif by simply moving ONLY the layer mask (and thereby changing where the blacks and whites of the layer mask occlude the cutout gif contents). but i can also transform the cutout gif layers without changing where the overall outline is located relative to the canvas itself. basically, i can transform the interior contents of the cutout independently. so here (make sure all of your frames are selected):

group unlinked. i’m also making sure that now i am selecting the GROUP (ie. the frames of the layers you are actually going to move) and not the layer mask. you can tell because the little white rectangle around the layer mask can no longer be seen.

now i can transform/adjust the contents of the cutout solely “within” the cutout, and i don’t have to worry about changing where the cutout is located in relation to the overall gif. when transforming, make sure all the frames of your gif are selected. like select the whole group and not just an individual layer, basically.

i’ve seen a lot of how to combine and cut out gifs tutorials on this website, and here is a really good one that i know sully also used <3 big shoutout to all the photoshop queens being inspired by each other!! however i haven’t seen anything that mentioned the linked vs. unlinked layer masks, which i really feel like deserves a shoutout. you don’t have to crop your gifs out perfectly every time, you can always adjust them later. for demonstration, i’ve positioned abaddon in a few different positions with an unlinked layer mask.

step 5: creating the outline

so in order to emphasize the shape of the cutout (the knight), i simply delete the white space surrounding the picture of the knight in the original silhouette that i used. magic wand tool + delete. you can also make a new layer, then paint bucket tool it. many ways to do the same thing.

now with only the knight on a transparent background, i double click the layer to pull up the effects. select outer glow. i used these settings:

when you are doing this, make sure you are on frame one of the frame animation and the “propagate frame one setting” is selected, otherwise you might end up only applying the effect to one out of your many frames, which blows.

then i go change the fill setting to 0%, BUT i leave opacity at 100%. fill is basically like opacity, but it doesn’t affect layer effects (whereas opacity does). so you basically get only the outline but not the black. you can also set the blending mode of the layer to screen and get the same effect, etc, etc. feel free to adjust however you see fit, in addition to the outer glow settings.

i move this layer over a couple pixels to give it the little offset effect, but you don’t have to.

step 6: adding the text

okay the two fonts i used are avenir and perla. i think a LOT of gifmakers use them because they’re really pretty.

i make TWO different text layers, one with avenir in a smaller size and one with perla in a bigger size. this is because for the perla one, i’m going to be changing the blending mode whereas i don’t want to be changing the blending mode for the smaller text. i position the text where i want it to be and make sure the perla font is in the color i like:

then i change the blending mode of the fancy text (perla) to difference. ONLY that layer, and again make sure to check “propagate frame 1″ and make changes on the first frame to apply the change to all of your frames.

but i still don’t think it produces enough of a difference. so i right click on the text layer for knights of hell, and then go to: select pixels.

then i click the curves adjustment layer. this will automatically make a curves layer with a layer mask that occludes everything BUT the area you selected. beautiful. i drag the curves around until i get enough of a difference that i like. normally i make the lights lighter and the darks darker. yeehaw.

again there are sooooo many different ways to achieve the same effect on photoshop. this is just want comes easiest to me, and it’s totally okay if you find a different way that works better for you at producing the contrast you want or the colors you want.

step 7: export and cry

NOW you can convert everything to a video timeline, put your video frame layers to smart objects, and then apply your finishing sharpening filters. export, cry, and hope tumblr compression doesn’t screw you over.

hopefully this was helpful! pls like... idk support my edits if you found this helpful or reblog this post. feel free to dm me about how u do some of the text effects as well bc i’m always trying to learn new things and i am by no means an expert on like. any of this.

aria please go write your fucking thesis before i delete this entire tutorial challenge. :D

#subtledean #THIS IS FOR YOU #I FEEL LIKE THIS TUTORIAL HAS MORE WORDS THAN UR THESIS ATM SO!!! #tutorials #mine #idk what to tag this but PLS pls pls feel free to talk to me abt ph*toshop #or ask for help or point me towards other tutorials <3 #shoutout to sully too its in there somewhere #resources #100n #ps

[wanderinginksplot]

Rex + Engineer!Reader

This is the prequel to the Rex + Blanket Fort + Kisses one-shot found here on my masterlist. As this is a prequel to that story, you don't need to have read it for this to make sense. And as you could probably tell from the picture, this takes place during the Onderon arc.

Rex x gn!reader: intended to be early romance, but could be read as platonic.

Word Count: a bit more than 3,400

Warnings: canon-typical violence, including spoilers for the Onderon arc (S 5, E 2-5) of Star Wars: The Clone Wars

---

"And Captain Rex will train everyone in the encampment on basic combat skills and maneuvers," General Skywalker announced.

You didn't pay overly much attention to that. The general was younger than you had anticipated, but he was clearly used to combat and had the kind of authority usually honed through commanding large groups of soldiers. Still, you knew his order didn't apply to you and moved to slip away from the area. Your schematics needed a lot more work before the rebels could attack without bringing buildings down.

"And where are you running off to?" a muscular man with light hair asked, stepping into your path.

You gave a tight smile. "Classified, sorry."

The man nodded toward the general. "General Skywalker says everyone needs combat training."

"Oh, not me," you reassured him. "I'm a contracted engineer, not one of the Rebels. I'm just here to make sure they destroy as little of the infrastructure as possible while they take back control."

"And do you live in the encampment?" he asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling sure this was a trap. Eventually, you gave a short nod.

"Then you'll be training with me," he said firmly. "Captain Rex, 501st Legion."

You reluctantly shook the hand he offered and introduced yourself, finishing with, "-but I'm strictly an engineer."

"We're worried that this isn't likely to end without one or several attacks on this encampment," the captain told you. "A few hours of training could save your life."

"And a few hours of work on the city's schematics could save the lives of countless civilians," you argued. Sending that he would continue trying to convince you, you shook your head. "The Gerrera siblings are the ones who hired me. I'll let them make the final choice."

"And I'll leave it to the Generals," Captain Rex agreed.

Clearly not taking chances, he marched off toward where Steela Gerrera and Lux Bonteri were talking with Generals Skywalker and Kenobi, as well as a Togrutan female you vaguely remembered as being a commander.

"Generals, Commander," Captain Rex greeted with a crisp salute. You rolled your eyes. Soldiers. "We were hoping you could settle a difference of opinion."

"A difference of opinion?" General Kenobi repeated with a frown.

"What opinion would that be, Rex?" General Skywalker asked.

The captain explained the situation while you stood in silence. Steela met your gaze at several points during the conversation, looking concerned each time.

"We're only here to train the rebels," General Skywalker said after Captain Rex had finished talking. "Not anyone else."

"All of us are rebels," Steela argued, ignoring your signals that you didn't want training at all. "Just by being here in opposition to the Separatist forces, we are all considered a threat to their power."

"A contracted employee is different than someone who joined your cause because they believe in it," the commander countered, wrinkling her nose. "We aren't offering training to mercenaries."

"We're talking about an engineer, not someone hired to perform assassinations," Lux contributed. "What could it hurt?"

"Generals, Commander," Rex said, his quiet voice somehow drawing their attention. "I think every member of the rebel group needs to be trained. I think it's important."

"Rex…" General Kenobi sighed, but Skywalker interrupted before he could expand on his thoughts.

"I trust Rex's instincts," he told the older general. "If he thinks everyone needs to be trained, we'll make it happen."

You made a frustrated noise before you could stop yourself. "I don't need training. I'm an engineer. I don't work in combat situations."

"That's the thing about combat," Skywalker said with a shrug. "You don't always have to look for it. Sometimes, it comes to you. Especially in wartime."

The group split up immediately afterward, seemingly having come to an agreement. You followed Steela, determined to make your case and get back to your schematics.

"Steela, you know I'm not here for fighting," you said, jogging to catch up to the young woman who had hired you. "It isn't part of my contract."

"It isn't, you're right," she agreed. "But I would think carefully before I turned down a chance to learn such a valuable skill considering how dangerous the galaxy is right now. Surely this could be helpful as a freelancer traveling the universe alone?"

You didn't have an immediate answer to that. Steela clearly noticed, nodding solemnly at you before turning away. "The choice is yours to make."

You gritted your teeth, but your feet refused to move from the spot. To your left was the strategic tent and your unfinished set of schematics. To the right, the Jedi were helping the rebels set up some kind of training ring.

"Well?" a voice prompted. You already recognized it as belonging to Rex.

You stood still for a beat longer before giving a loud and heartfelt groan as you turned toward the freshly constructed training ring.

---

You were bad at fighting.

It wasn't really a shock to you. You had never been particularly graceful or good on your feet. That was why engineering had been such a draw - all mental work, almost no physical.

Rex, to his credit, turned out to be a surprisingly good teacher. He had kept everyone basically together as they learned new skills and practiced as a group. Still, he was determined that you would learn to defend yourself and here you were, fighting to shoot targets in the dying light, long after everyone else had scattered.

"I'm sorry," you apologized yet again as you missed. You were half an hour into intensive shooting lessons with Rex and you had yet to hit a single target.

"You don't need to apologize," he assured. "We'll just keep working until you get it down."

"I don't know if I can," you admitted, lowering the heavily modified blaster pistol until it was resting on the table in front of you. "We're losing the light and it's a bad idea to illuminate any more of the jungle than we have to."

"That's true," Rex agreed, rubbing at his neck while he studied the unharmed target. After a moment, he took the blaster pistol from your hands and holstered it at his side, then removed the holster belt as well.

You nodded sympathetically, hoping you could call it a night and put in a few hours of work on your schematics so the day wouldn't be a total waste.

Rex sighed, removing the subtly armored jacket he had been wearing during that day's training. "I guess we'll… we'll just have to switch to something less impacted by visibility."

"Wait, what?" you had time to ask before the stoic captain flat-out tackled you.

You were aware enough to know that Captain Rex had twisted to take part of the impact himself, but you still hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. In that moment of hollow gasping, Rex had pushed you onto your stomach and pinned your hands behind your back.

"The first rule of unarmed conflict is that you can't let anyone surprise you." Rex paused for a moment. "Actually, that's the first rule of any kind of conflict."

"Is the second rule that you shouldn't suffocate your sparring partner?" you croaked out, turning your head slightly so your face wasn't actively being pressed into the dirt anymore.

Rex laughed. It was the first time you had heard anything other than firm orders from him and you paused. It was a nice laugh. You were forced to gather your thoughts a moment later as he released you and helped you to your feet.

"You probably won't see a lot of hand-to-hand fighting with droids, but the armies aren't capable of anything beyond following orders. The armies are commanded by sentients, and those sentients are often closer to the armies than you would think."

"I have no intention of going after Grievous without a weapon," you joked. "Preferably more than one."

"You should stay away from Grievous no matter how many weapons you have," Rex advised. "But this is good to know, anyway."

"Actually, I agree with that," you said, surprising you both. "I'm a freelancer. Anything that helps me defend myself in a potentially hostile situation is a good thing."

"Okay, let's work on your hits, then," Rex suggested.

What followed was two full hours of unarmed combat practice. Rex was always the target, letting you throw punches and kicks against his open palms. When he realized that you were pulling your strikes because you were afraid to hurt him, he found a padded guard among the assortment of equipment the Republic had sent along.

Eventually, though, you were panting and bone-tired. Rex seemed to realize that without you saying anything.

"One last set of strikes and you're done for the night," Rex told you. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to you.

But as you punched, Rex moved the guard you had been aiming for. You shot him a look, but he only held the guard up, wiggling it slightly. You set up again, but Rex pulled away at the last second, dodging your fist to bop you on the shoulder with the guard.

"What are you doing?" you asked, exasperated. "You said this was the last set."

"It is. Or, it will be as soon as you actually manage to make contact."

You grimaced at him. This time, when he twisted the guard away, you turned with it. You were focused on keeping your footwork correct and your hit strong. You never even saw him move his foot between your ankles, but with a light tug, you were on the ground again.

"Seriously?" you asked from your spot in the dirt.

Rex laughed again, and this time, you didn't enjoy the sound at all. "Do you think your opponents are going to stand there and let you hit them? They're going to fight dirty - they always do. You just need to-"

As it happens, you never did learn what you needed to do. Rex had stepped too close, and your engineering experience told you that his ankles were at an angle that made him vulnerable to a hit. You kicked his ankle lightly, barely making contact, but it was enough to send one of his feet careening against the other. Rex stumbled, failed to regain his balance, and fell.

All of this was done on instinct and you felt as surprised as Rex looked when he landed on his butt in the dirt next to you.

"Good job," he said, breathless but sincere.

"Thanks," you accepted with a grin. "Does that mean I surprised you?"

"Not a bit," he denied, deflating your ego a bit. "I knew you were capable of it. You're an engineer. Engineers like angles and math. That's all combat is, adjusted for whatever you think the other side is going to do."

"Wait, that's… that's a really good point," you mused slowly. "Can I see your pistol again?"

Rex didn't move. "If you shoot me, you'll surprise me in the wrong way."

You snorted. "I'm not planning on shooting you, Captain. I just want to test how the application of math might help me."

After eyeing you for a moment, Rex stood in an enviably graceful motion and hauled you to your feet as well. Wordlessly, he handed you one of his blaster pistols. He had warned you before you began shooting that he had made numerous alterations to them, but you were still surprised by the weight of the weapon in your hand.

This time, instead of relying on instinct - point, aim, shoot - you worked to apply some logic. When you were sure about your angle, you squeezed the hyper-sensitive trigger and watched the resulting beam of weaponized light hit the target.

It wasn't a perfect shot, of course. Math couldn't fix everything. Still, you had hit the target and you cheered aloud, echoed by Rex's congratulations behind you. You had the presence of mind to set the pistol down before you turned, then Rex was grasping your forearm in the odd way warriors shook hands.

"Great job!" he told you warmly. "You're getting better."

"Thanks," you accepted, trying to vocalize your gratitude. You probably could have been offended by the tone of surprise in his voice, but you chose to overlook it.

"Now we just have to dial in your aim and get you comfortable with firing at moving targets, especially during chaotic situations."

Despite your best efforts, you felt your expression fall at that. Rex laughed again. When had he gotten so cheerful? "I'm kidding. That can be done tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" you repeated doubtfully.

Rex folded his arms across his chest and stared at you steadily. "In one session, you've gone from unable to shoot a gun or throw a punch to knocking me down and hitting a target. If you can keep that pace of improvement, you'll be a force to be reckoned with."

"Or at least be able to stop clients who try to cop a feel," you added.

Despite his darkening expression, Rex's tone was unconcerned. "I'm sure you could break the hand of any di'kut dumb enough to try it now. With some training, you'd be able to tear that hand off completely."

And so you continued to train with Rex after everyone else had finished learning to disable tanks and other intense activities. During the day, you finalized schematics, studying holoimages of Onderon’s capital city of Iziz. Your goal was to record your best guesses for the most and least structurally-sound sections of the city.

The dedication the rebels showed for the safety of the Onderonian people was a big reason you had agreed to take this job. Despite what the Jedi seemed to think, you weren't actually a mercenary. You chose your jobs very carefully, and if something didn't match your morals, you would respectfully decline.

Between schematic work in the day and training at night, your time with the rebels flew past. Captain Rex continued to be patient and helpful as you worked to master the combat moves he taught you - ones decidedly more focused on self-defense than the moves he taught the rebels. The first day you had beaten him in a grappling situation, he had beamed up at you with dirt on his face and told you how far you had progressed. The squeezing of your heart at the praise warned that it was probably good that the captain and both Jedi generals were withdrawing from Onderon shortly, leaving Commander Tano to assist with the remaining rebel efforts.

Despite your determination to stay out of the conflict, you had eventually been forced into it when the Separatist armies had attacked the rebel base. One of the rebels you had known by appearance if not by name had been hit by blaster fire before he could use the rocket launcher held in his hands. He had held it up to you, begging with his eyes that you take out the ship that had fired on him before it could do more damage.

You had accepted, and the ship was a roiling ball of flame before you could make yourself nervous about shooting anything other than Rex’s now-familiar blasters. You tossed aside the rocket launcher and found a discarded blaster. From that point until the combat had ended, thoughts of schematics or building solidity were gone from your head. You were as much a part of the rebel group as anyone else, and you watched with the same horror as Steela Gerrera fell to her death, despite the best efforts of Commander Tano.

The funeral was lovely. Onderonians didn’t believe in mourning for their dead. Instead, they truly celebrated all that the departed had done to create a better society… and Steela had done a great deal.

When things had ended, you were sitting on a raised set of stairs overlooking the ceremonial area. The dais holding Steela’s cloth-draped casket was filled with people far too important for you to bother. You were glad to see Saw speaking with King Dendup. After he had handed you the agreed-upon payment for your services - despite your many attempts to refuse the credits - Saw had left, ignoring the sympathy you tried to offer. He needed to speak with someone, and if that someone was the man he and Steela had worked so hard to save, so much the better.

“Nice ceremony, huh?” someone asked from behind you, and you twisted a bit to find General Skywalker standing there with Captain Rex beside him.

You nodded, but you could feel that it was a half-hearted motion. “Steela was so young. She had a lot of promise.”

“She died fulfilling the mission she set out to finish,” Captain Rex countered. “She knew the risks and thought Dendup was worth it. Her choices were her own. All we can do is respect them.”

With a joyless smile, you said, “Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“It never does,” General Skywalker admitted, sitting next to you. Rex’s comlink chimed and he stepped a respectful distance away before answering it.

Skywalker sat beside you in silence for a while. Normally, you would speak first just for sake of politeness, but you weren’t feeling that generous. You let the silence linger while you watched the activity on the dais.

“Have you ever thought about using your talents for the Republic?” the general asked eventually.

“I thought I was a soulless mercenary?” you asked before you could think better of it.

“And I thought you didn’t work in combat situations,” Skywalker countered. “But I’ve seen the battlefield recordings. You handled yourself well.”

You glanced over at him in surprise. “Are you trying to contract me on as a soldier?”

“Force, no,” he denied quickly. “As an engineer. I sent samples of your work to a friend of mine who works as an engineer in the private sector and they were impressed. The GAR is struggling to find good engineers comfortable working in combat. The pay is a bit lower than you’re used to, but it’s steady work.”

Ah, he had cut straight to the heart of your problem with freelancing. The fight to survive between jobs meant that anything extra you were making was eaten up by the time you were hired on again. And your morals meant that jobs weren’t nearly as frequent as you would like them to be. But being in constant combat… Yes, you had survived this time, but that didn’t mean you were rushing to repeat the experience.

You grimaced. “I appreciate the offer, really, but I don’t know if it’s for me. Combat engineering isn’t really my specialty.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short,” General Skywalker told you seriously. “I’ve seen samples of your past work, and a lot of it is on worlds that have a lot of fighting. I’m sure you know that none of your structures have sustained extreme damage, no matter how much combat was happening around them. That’s an impressive record.”

“You researched me?” you asked, feeling a little stunned.

“Well, the Republic likes to know who they’re hiring. But honestly, I’m not the one who did the research,” Skywalker said, looking past you. You followed his gaze to Rex, who was suddenly very intently looking at his comlink. With a mischievous grin, the general added, “I think my captain has taken a liking to you.”

You fought back a grin, turning away from the captain, and your eyes fell on Steela’s casket once more. Suddenly, keeping a straight face wasn’t as much of a struggle. “If I said yes, what would my official job duties be?”

“You would oversee a group of construction experts - both civilian and enlisted - using maps and satellite footage to find the best possible choices for locations to build bases, bridges, or other structures to help us complete campaigns,” he answered easily. “Preferably, to win campaigns, but that’s more on us than you.”

“And would I work with your group?”

“The 501st?” Skywalker asked, sounding surprised. “I’m not sure, but probably. We’re a planetary landing battalion, so we always need someone who has the knowledge of places to build. You might have to stay behind on some planets to supervise base construction, but you could always catch back up with us. Is that something you would want?”

“Yes,” you said firmly. “If I did agree to that-”

“I’m no good at negotiations,” he interrupted with a self-deprecating smile. “You speak clearly about what you want and I’ll do what I can.”

“I’ll work for the Republic,” you said, feeling the nerves twist in your belly. “If you can make sure I’m permanently attached to the 501st.”

“Deal,” General Skywalker accepted immediately, holding his hand out for you to shake. “Welcome to the 501st.”

---

A/N - I assure you that there is no timeline of any sort happening in my writing, so don't think too hard about where this should fit into the narrative. It won't end well.

Thanks for reading!

Next | Masterlist

Taglist: @imabeautifulbutterfly

(If anyone else wants added to any taglist, just leave a comment or send a message!)

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #sw tcw fic #tcw rex #captain rex #rex #rex x reader #rex x you #star wars fic

[the-enamorando-deity]

*Can I request Sara Lance x Reader with your prompts **

Word - 22

Location- 4

Situation-1

Sentences- 13,20, and 25

Thanks! 🙂❤💜

hi hi hi hi oh my GOD THIS GAVE ME SO MANY IDEAS AAAAAH

Prompts: Crown, Ship, Stuck in the Past, “Is that a threat or a pick-up line?”, “Either we go or I do, but I’d prefer if you didn’t make me do this alone.”, “You’re so pretty. What the fuck.”

Sara Lance x Reader, (18+) because i’m a goddamn heathen and oof-

Captain Lance

Sure, the Legends had their shares of mishaps and incidents, but this was by far one of the worst mistakes that had happened since you joined the crew. Everything started so well, you and Sara were having fun in the halls of the WaveRider, surrounded by your favourite people in the world.

Her laugh bounced off the walls and made you smile, shoving by each other to get to the finish line before each other. You caught a glimpse of her looking at you, eyes bright in a way they only seemed to do again after over ten years of trouble. Your heart warmed at the thought of her, exposing the darkest and loneliest parts of herself, only to have them met with eager warmth and acceptance.

You hadn’t been through the things she had, but knew similar ways to relate, and it only made you crave her more. She thought herself nothing more than a bit of fun, a weapon more often than not. You saw everything else, and let her know it every day. She grabbed your hand right before the finish line, distracting you just enough that you didn’t realise she was pushing you behind her. 

With a victorious cry, the crew surrounded their winner, and Nate pulled Sara up onto his shoulder. ‘Captain Lance wins again!’

‘I’m on top of the world!’ she jeered, grinning down at you.

‘Not for long, Captain,’ you replied, a hint of something in your voice.

Nate lowered her back to the ground, the crew moving onto the next challenge you and Sara had arranged for fun. ‘Is that a threat or a pick-up line?’

‘You’re just going to have to find out.’

Charlie made a face and looked like she was about to be sick, quickly pushing to the front of the group to escape the grossness of you two.

Things turned bad fast. Only seconds into the next challenge, Gideon’s warbled warnings alerted you all to something sinister as the ship started to lurch and spin, all of you making a break for the control room, reaching it far too late. Sara was there first, finding out the trouble and running for the loading bay before any of you could process what was going on. 

You cried out after her and raced down the steps, only to see the door blow open and suck her out, her head crashing into the doorframe before she vanished. ‘Sara!’

Your foot tapped on the metal floors as Gideon searched and scanned, but with the damage the ship sustained, she couldn’t locate the captain. Ray sat beside you and tried to offer words of comfort, which were only met with silence. His hand on your shoulder was kind, but you couldn’t think clear enough. 

The ship had crash-landed in the middle of the ocean, on an island Zari only barely managed to aim you for. With Gideon out of commission and no clues as to your time period, you all felt an overwhelming sense of hope lost, not only for yourselves, but for Sara. If the WaveRider barely made it to an island, had Sara hit the water? Was she even in the same year as the rest of you?

Heavy hearted, you dragged Mick from his room with the premise of “it might be Aruba”, making him help you search the notably small island, both of you knowing it wasn’t Aruba. It didn’t take long, both of you calling out for Sara, able to search the island in under half an hour. Without much shade, there wasn’t many places she could hide, or be hidden from sight.

It wasn’t until Nate saw a ship in the distance, remarking on the distinct shape and colouring, that he knew when and where you all were. The ship had seen your smoky signal and made way towards you.

‘Zari, get the WaveRider disguised, now!’ you ordered, after following Nate’s train of realisation. ‘Nate, please tell me the fabricator is still working?’

He nodded, and you all made a desperate run for the machine. The ship was still a few minutes from being able to see everything properly, even with a telescope- or so you hoped. Zari gave the thumbs up that the ship was disguised, pulling you aside.

‘Pirates? You’re kidding right?’

You sighed and handed her an outfit. ‘Get dressed.’

‘We can’t just leave the WaveRider here unattended, if someone finds it, we’re screwed, and stuck here forever,’ she explained, pushing the outfit back into your arms. ‘It’s fine, that stuff smells like butt anyway.’

Not wanting to leave her alone, you turned to a very unenthusiastic Mick. ‘Stay.’

He growled, more at the fact that you ordered him, less so at the order. ‘Fine, I don’t wanna play pirates anyway. I have all the booze I need right here.’

With that, you grabbed Nate, Ray and Charlie and headed for the doors, ready to greet whoever it was that may or may not be about to try and kill you. Three steps in, you saw Ray stumble before you and quickly turned to head back to Zari.

‘Get him to the medbay.’

Charlie poked at Ray’s ankle as he lay in the chair, eliciting a shriek from him. ‘Broken. He can’t come with us, we’ll be sitting ducks.’

With a look from the crew, you knew Sara’s position was to be yours for the time being. 'I guess Zari’s coming along after all. Ray, you get Mick to help you fix the ship. We’ll be on comms, and Zari can guide you. Okay?’

He winced and nodded, looking sadly at Nate. ‘Sorry we can’t be pirate bros, buddy.’

‘Next time.’

With the new plan, Zari- somehow less enthusiastic than usual- followed the three of you to the beach, and you all left the WaveRider behind, watching the rowboats launch from the pirate ship.

‘Here we go.’

You dropped to the sand and started holding onto your ankle, a weak cry silenced by a pained huff telling the crew you were playing hurt.

‘Y/N, what are you doing?’

‘If they think we’re hurt, we’re less of a threat,’ you explained, ‘we can get on their ship, get to port, find Sara, then get Ray and Mick to come get us when the WaveRider’s fixed.’

From the moment the pirates arrived on the shore, they were silent, taking inventory of you all before lowering their guards. One finally spoke to ask what was the problem, and with that, the four of you realised the entire crew was made up of women.

It was Charlie who spoke first of the Legends, helping you stand. ‘Our captain is wounded and our ship damaged, may we seek refuge with you to get us back to port so we can commandeer items for repair?’ 

‘No need, our ship has all you need,’ she spoke again, ‘come aboard, let your captain rest her wounds, have a meal, and we can assist you with repairs.’

Cautious, you all glanced between each other before moving towards the row boats. ‘Thank you,’ you replied graciously, bowing your head, ‘your captain must be very good to you.’

The silence of the women returned, Charlie and Zari helping you to one boat to keep up the ruse, Nate grabbing your bags and joining Charlie in the other boat. It was tense, terrifying, and altogether a bad idea. You could barely resist muttering to yourself at the eagerness for you all to get captured, the willingness to trust strangers. And yet, it felt right.

You knew why the moment you were helped off the row boat, looking up, only to lock eyes with their pirate captain. Adorned with a gorgeous crown of silver and jewels, the love of your life stood before your eyes, unharmed.

‘Sara,’ you breathed, quickly wrapping your arms around her and pulling her close. 

She hugged you so tight you forgot your cover, kissing her long and soft. The crew had fallen silent, the only noise coming from Charlie and Zari as they tried to resist vomiting. 

‘Our Queen has found her lover! Rejoice for our quest is long over!’ cheered the first mate, an uproarious cry of delight from the entire female crew deafening you as Sara held your face tenderly.

The dark makeup around her eyes made the bright blue shine brighter, her lips stained a dark red, the soft freckles you would often count by kissing them now darker than you’d imagined they could be.

‘You’re so pretty,’ you laughed, still not believing she was alright, ‘what the fuck? How are you so-’

Sara silenced you by placing a gentle finger to your lips, turning to face her crew. They bowed down before her, the cheeky smile she gave you followed by a wink. The gentle hum of her voice rippled through your body as you held her hand, thinking only now, that she had obviously been searching for you for a long time.

‘Our mission is complete, ladies, you may all return to your ports if you wish, or stay aboard under the rule of Jessalyn,’ she announced, voice cracking slightly, her tone withered and shaky. ‘Thank you all for your service, you have sent me home.’

She turned to Nate, Zari and Charlie, dragging them and you in for a group hug.

‘Captain? Before you go,’ the first mate, Jessalyn you assumed, spoke, ‘perhaps a feast? We will miss you greatly, and this may ease our worries of your safety.’

Nodding eagerly, Nate grinned at Sara like a kid in a library- or at least, Nate as a kid in a library. She agreed, quickly dragging you off and leaving the others to engage with her other crew. 

Before you even reached her quarters, Sara grabbed you and pulled you flush against her,  hands roaming your body as she kissed you hard, pressing you against the wall, dragging her fingers through your hair.

‘Jesus, Sara, how long were you here?’ you mumbled between kisses, your arms around her neck as you pulled her close.

‘Four months,’ she mumbled, moving to kiss down the side of your neck. 

‘Should we really have left the others out there? What if-’

She put a finger to your lips and placed a soft kiss on your nose. Sara reached behind you, never dropping eye contact, and opened the door. ‘Either we go or I do, but I’d prefer if you didn’t make me do this alone.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ you replied, greedily moving to kiss her again.

Her lips tasted of wine and sea salt, mixed with berries you were sure didn’t still exist. You had barely lost her for two hours, and you could barely get your hands off her. The door shut behind you, Sara dragging you towards her bed, laying down and pulling you over her.

You kissed down her bare chest, gently pulling her shirt down and sucking a small trail down the centre. Squeezing her breast, your lips moved back to her neck, your free hand skating up her outer thigh, fingers dancing over her skin and thumb rubbing circles as you moved inward. Her breath hitched at your touch, grabbing your wrist with her hand and guiding it higher, closer to where she wanted you.

Moaning softly into her neck as you kissed her, Sara wasn’t happy with your messing around. She reached up to take the crown off, looking down to meet your eyes.

‘Leave it on,’ you grinned, pulling yourself down lower on the bed, bowing down to kiss the insides of her thighs. 

You teased her softly with your tongue, moving closer and feeling her try to press her thighs together. A gentle whimper left her throat as you tugged her underwear down over her legs, discarding them across the room. Her skirt hitched up as you kissed and sucked at her stomach, Sara’s hands tangled in your hair and pulled your head closer, lower.

Giving in, you softly kissed up her folds, tongue darting in as you moved up and down. Her hips hitched as you licked a stripe up and down her soaking pussy, hands tugging you closer as she demanded more. 

‘Stop being so gentle, goddamnit,’ she huffed, a smile breaking out across her face as you began sucking at her clit. Breath caught in her throat, she was more than satisfied now.

‘Is that better, princess?’ you murmured, the soft rumbles of your voice making Sara grip your hair a little tighter. 

She managed to nod, a pleased sigh when your soft fingers started circling her clit, your mouth moving elsewhere as she started getting close already. Distracting Sara by kissing her lips, your other hand moved back up to her breast, and one of hers moved down between her legs.

‘Good girl,’ you grinned, hearing her fingers slip inside herself, her body gently rocking beneath yours. It was often a joint effort, making her happy, and it seemed that even in the bedroom she still liked a little control.

Her moans filled the room, sucking at her neck as she struggled to keep a hold. ‘Baby, you do it so much better. I wanna feel you inside me, please.’

More than happy to oblige, you kissed back down her body, your tongue darting over and circling her clit as your fingers took over where hers had been, stroking the inside of her walls as you felt her clench around you. Her hips lifted off the bed as your fingers and mouth worked their magic, a quick pace letting her finish, but you didn’t stop. Slowing only a little, you helped her work herself down, sucking across her collarbones.

‘That’s gonna leave a mark,’ she grinned, wrapping her arms around you and kissing you like it was the first time. ‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you too.’

Turning on her side as you lay by her, she ran a finger down your arm. ‘By the way,’ Sara teased between kisses, ‘if you broke my ship, I’ll kick your ass.’

‘I know.’

taglist: @marvelfansince08love @mymarvelwomen @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @monihaswritersblock @natasharomanoffswife   @xxxtwilightaxelxxx 

#sara lance #sara lance x reader #white canary #fanfiction #request #asks #anon #answered #holy shit what the hell #legends of tomorrow #lot #dc #request complete #i uhhh #i don't know how to #tag this #rip

[veryrealimagination]

 Self-Sacrifice/Human Shield

Oh, I also have a story idea going for what Green Arrow and the Canaries could have been. I created a detective boyfriend for William (and then imagined the actor's real life husband because I watched the Christmas Setup and they were so great, well, adorable, but I don't think I should say that aloud).

Trigger Warnings - hostage situation, villain gets injured

****

“Take me!”

William stared at the man that had burst into his office with a gun pointed straight at his assistant. Said assistant looked over in disbelief. As if this person would take her boss. The gunman agreed with her, “Better a girl than some rich guy.” She squawked when the guy grabbed her, hauling her up.

He was terrified, knowing that the man had a preference for women and would violate his assistant before killing her. There was no way he was going to allow that to happen. “Take me,” he argued, “Detective Ferron’s the one investigating your case. He won’t shoot you if I’m your hostage.”

The man stared at the older man in confusion, until something clicked. “You’re the boyfriend?” he asked.

“Yes, and if you leave my assistant here completely unharmed, I will come with you to ensure you also get out unharmed,” William reasoned. That’s a good way to keep people safe, right? Except for himself, but he also had a panic button, five, six people reasonably willing to kill to keep him safe, and he’s pretty sure the SCPD love him after giving them upgrades after his kidnapping. And making Tracy happy.

The man reacted to something in the hall. Voices, several of them shouting, spurned him into shutting the door and shoving a chair underneath the handle. The man turned around when security came rushing down. “You’ve got a way to make the glass frosted?” William nodded. “Do it.” He tapped out a command and the entire office was blocked off from the inside. Without the ability to see any of them, they wouldn’t risk shooting to take him down.

There was only one set of cuffs on him, and he had planned it on his next victim. The problem being that he had two people that he needed to control. One of them he needed to stay down. Scanning the office, he found nothing of use to tie them up. Typical, as Smoak Tech moved toward complete wireless, there would be nothing to use on victims. He wondered if that was because of the Huntress attack when she started working with the Green Arrow in his early days.

Then he saw the man was wearing a belt. Good. Part of his problem solved. He needed to get out of the room without going by security. “Do you have a second way out of this office?” he asked. William nodded. “Open it up, then.” Keeping an eye on the gun, he went over to a set in bookcase and pulled four books in order, letting a section slide out quickly. “Ooo, fancy,” he mocked, turning to the assistant and pointing at her bosses chair, “Now, sit there.”

She stared over at her boss. There was ‘No sitting in my chair’ after she got food all over it. Greasy food, which was hard to get out of leather and her clothing. “It’s fine,” he said. Not reassured, she sat gingerly down.

“Good, now, use your belt to tie her to one of the arms.”

It required a bit of nudging for William to take off his belt and follow the direction of the other man to secure his assistant. After he was done, his own arms were secured behind him, the set of zipcuffs cutting into his wrists as he was dragged out.

The second way out was an elevator that went down to a locked off section of the parking garage. His sister used it to get up to his office, he used it to avoid CEO things on long days. He’s pretty sure the Canaries have used it to hide from some of the thugs they’ve been trying to take down, and JJ has snuck in once to talk to him.

“William!”

He forgot Tracy knew about the entrance.

Spun around, the gun went directly to his head, no space between the two. The other kept him from calling out by covering his mouth. Tracy had his weapon out, but pointed down to the ground. “Stay back, Detective,” the man warned. William had to force himself to stay calm. He planned on this, even if it meant forcing Tracy’s hand in this situation.

“You’re going to have to give up. Once they find the other exit-”

“I will be long gone with your boyfriend, to ensure my safety,” he said. Okay, William was not thinking far enough ahead for that. He thought he was just going to be left behind in the garage after giving up his ride. Where is it? Where is it?

“SCPD will be on your tail within five minutes,” Tracy said, focusing on the man and not his slightly terrified boyfriend. He then felt the thrum of a flechette. Knowing what his boyfriend had planned, he focused on the tiny projectile, putting the gun away. Floating it, he figured the best thing would be an arm. Maybe the one holding the gun?

The man screamed as something dug into his shoulder. With the gun out of the way, William took out a knee and threw himself on the ground. Tracy immediately tackled the man and had him on his stomach before cuffing his arms. Two officers came through the elevator just as he was getting up. “Suspect is secure,” he announced, taking out a knife to cut through the zip ties. “William?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he muttered, grabbing his arms and sticking his face in Tracy’s neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know you don’t like doing that.” He sighed, helping his boyfriend up and holding him for a minute. “He was going to take Lira and I saw the news articles on what he did to his victims-”

“William,” he stopped, taking his boyfriend’s face in his hands, “Apology accepted.” He also accepted the grateful kiss…

Until his partner cleared her throat. “You’re still on duty, Ferron,” she mocked, “You can make out with your boyfriend later. We gotta get this guy to an ER to get his shoulder fixed.” Waiting, the two let go of each other, Tracy following his partner while William got a Very Important Phone Call from Mia.

#12 days of whumpmas #human shield #self sacrifice #arrow #william clayton #tracy ferron #my detective oc #who is also a meta human #just before midnight here #seriously #my read more isnt working on my phone app #this is why i mainly work on the computer #amow twelve days of whumpmas #i got the wrong tag #and this is why i like the computer more

[intangiblyyourswrites]

Directors cut for Demon!Link AU? Maybe?

From Day 5 of Febuwhump: “Take Me Instead”

For some reason, when I am forced to write whump, my mind refuses. 🙃 Thus this little thing was born.

I think the first thing that came to mind was how, in The Hunger Games, Katniss volunteered herself as tribute in place of her younger sister, so I tried to set up a similar scene (though I haven’t seen the movie in ages so who knows how that turned out lol). Zelda, being older, is definitely protective of and occasionally likes to spoil her sister. They’re very close. Zelda is also more obstinate than her. Since I haven’t written much for it, here’s how I see the story unfolding (warning: it’s long and spoilery):

When Zelda made the decision to go in place of her sister, she was very determined to not make the process easy. However, with Link’s reaction to her, her goals change. She wants him to like her, if only to prove a point. She’d be sickeningly sweet at first, best wife she can be, and Link would outright ignore her (opting to go read something in solitary). They’ll eventually get into a fight, where Link basically tells her to go home, so Zelda being Zelda, does just that. And this is where they both realize how used they’ve gotten to one another.

Zelda now knows his favorite food and his favorite books. Where he likes to hide when he doesn’t feel like behaving like royalty. He has “friends” but sometimes they make snide comments about her, and she realizes his “lay off of it, she’s not worth it” commands were for her benefit (though she definitely would’ve preferred him to word things just a bit differently). Link, on the other hand, really misses her company. Sometimes she just hangs around the library with him while he reads, reading books of her own or trying to decipher the demon language. She had a tendency to talk to herself quietly when she’s working through something and occasionally hums a song. The library—no, the whole castle—is much too quiet and empty without her.

They’re actually not married yet at this point. Ganon wanted them to at least somewhat like each other before the wedding, and it gets postponed of course once Zelda leaves. Zelda actually confided in Ganon quite a bit during all this, feeling a bit discouraged when Link didn’t respond to her friendly gestures.

Back in Hyrule, with the eldest princess back and unharmed and unmarried, everyone is vying for her hand. Zelda is conflicted because her suitors all definitely want her hand for power and wow, maybe Link was the better option. Actually, part of her got really comfortable with the thought of him being her husband. Adelaide even offers to marry one of the suitors for Zelda, but Zelda is determined to let her baby sister marry for love. She agrees to allow the suitors to court her after a few weeks, disheartened that Link obviously does not want her as a bride.

Of course news travel and reach the demon realm. Ganon and Link are sitting at the dinner table and Ganon is just shaking his head in disappointment. “She was a good one,” he says, sighing, and Link angrily throws his hands in the air, “You don’t have to tell me that!”

Long story short, he marches into Hyrule Castle (or more like appear in a blaze of fire) during one of Zelda’s dates, and pulls a Cardan essentially (“Do not touch her. She is my wife!) Zelda pretty much swoons and is all, “Well, can’t say no, can I?” And leaves with him.

They get married soon after their return, and this is when they’re stupid shy around each other, not wanting to scare the other off again but also not quite knowing how to be themselves around each other. Link shows her around town, takes her on hikes, helps her with her studies. Zelda tells him about Hyrule and sometimes sneak them into Castletown to explore. Link is terrified of cuckoos at first. Literally hisses at them.

After awhile, Zelda realizes that while they seem to be getting along as friends, they’re husband and wife, and oh no, what if he isn’t attracted to her? What if he doesn’t find her pretty? She definitely thinks he’s cute. Sometimes they hold hands but it’s usually when they’re exploring so it could all be platonic. She awkwardly talks to Ganon about it, and all he says is (with a shrug), “He’s still a man.” Zelda does not know what that means.

So she starts trying to flirt with Link, but she’s quite a novice at it. She touches him more on the arms or his chest or his hair. She gets him to braid her hair, help her zip up her dress, anything she can recall from her trashy romance novels and the stories her handmaidens told her. Link goes with it, but always gives her a funny look. Eventually, he catches on, and while they’re chilling in the library one evening with her sitting on the armrest (close but not too imposing), he pulls her into his lap. She’s taken to wearing dresses fashioned in the demon realm instead of her trousers or gowns, so he draws circles around her exposed ankles. Zelda is completely flustered—he’s not usually this forward with her—and all he says before he kisses her is, “You’re my wife. You don’t have to seduce me when I’m already yours.” And they live happily ever after.

Back tracking a bit about Link’s character. He is known to be charismatic in public, being a prince and all, but he finds it to be a chore and that’s why he rather lock himself in a room with a book. He had just as many people vying for his hand as Zelda did, and so Zelda isn’t well received initially. He hates it when Zelda makes comments on how Ganon is the nicer one between the two of them, because he thinks his father bringing a human to the demon realm is nothing short of cruel. He rejects Zelda at the beginning for many reasons: to show her that she doesn’t belong, to not go along with his father’s plan, and to not face rejection from her because he had his fair share of betrayal in the past. Though his resolve is tested everytime he sees her big, curious green eyes and hears her laughter that seems brighten up the room. He also finds it so frustrating that he can’t hold his princely demeanor when she’s around. She makes him feel more like a teenage boy than someone meant to be king (I imagine them to be in their early 20’s—mentally on Link’s behalf). He knew he was in love when he accidentally went on a tangent about a series he’s reading and all Zelda did was encourage him with those large curious eyes. Link actually did not worry about the whole attraction thing because he was simply enjoying her presence—and he could sense the way her heart rate would spike whenever he touched her. Sneaky little twat.

Anddd that’s all! I actually did not have a super clear idea on their relationship post-marriage but pre-falling-in-love until I saw your fic art, so thank you so much for those! I still look at them often! 💙

#demon prince!Link #Take Me Instead #Zelink #intangiblymine #director’s cut #thanks for the ask! #newtsnaturethings

[bravo-four-seal-team]

One Unit, One Life.

Co-Written Series with @disasterfandoms​

 Tags: @galaxysanduniversesinmymind​  @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @disasterfandoms @jasonbabymama @velvetcardiganbucky @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @thelovelyleo23 @itsonautopilot @supervalcsi@abby-splace​ @theysayitscrazy​

Part Two 

Trigger Warning: Injuries, swearing, blood, attacks. 

It's never easy, war is never easy. But yet here they were, after an HVT known for selling weapons. The op was aided by Marines, which allowed more cover, only thing Trent and Metal both had an issue with? Ashley had failed to mention it was the unit she worked with, helping them. While she was level-headed in the field, cracking jokes, making smartass comments at people, Trent never wanted to have to treat her for an injury. Things went south quickly though, from no combatants to multiple coming from all sides, Marine Unit firing back, providing the SEALs time to get what they needed. Ammo began running low, Trent patched up Clay the best he could.

"Grenade!" Clay shouted diving to the ground, knocking Trent down with him, Ashley didn't think, she just reacted, throwing herself at the device, taking the majority of the blast. 

“HAVOC it’s gone! Goat Rope out here!” Ray called over the comms, firing soon ceased, they weren’t sure if it was because the enemies were reloading.

Trent hadn't registered who it was, after a few blasts, from other grenades thrown, things calmed and fell silent, teams shouting for a sound off, Metal moving towards Trent and Clay “Shoulder is out of place” Clay informed Metal, who frowned “Pop it back in” Trent hissed, looking around, Metal and Clay shared a look, but did so, other people were checking on each other when he noticed the Marine Medic just standing “Clarkes! Move your ass and help!” he yelled but he didn’t get a response. 

“Sitrep!” Jason called out, as people reported how much ammo they had left. “Man down!” Clay shouted, moving to where the marine lay. Clay had moved towards the form, carefully checking for a pulse "Got a pulse but it's weak!" he called out, then rolled them on their back, sucking in a breath "Oh fuck" he muttered seeing the injuries, Trent frowned "Come on, open your eyes" he muttered snapping the smelling salt to activate it, holding it under her nose “Clay gonna need you to be my hands!” Trent stated, still not receiving a response from the injured, as the younger man moved forward, taking Trent's medical bag. 

“Clarkes! Hey! You need to get to work!” someone shouted at the Marine medic who remained to stare unmoving from his spot, he never moved, it was like he had decided to bail out of his own body. Bravos medic glared at him, then his gaze, focusing on instructing Clay on what to do.

"How bad" Gunnery Sergeant Cole asked.

 "Gonna need a CASEVAC." Trent states. 

"Oh fuck" came from Metal, Alphas master chief staring at the bloodied form "pass me the bag of O neg, it's a universal donor," Clay muttered. 

"Bravo 4, I'd prefer our medic to work on my guy" Cole said. 

"Not happening, he hasn’t reacted, Clay, give her the blood, shit, apply pressure to the wound at her neck and pack it” he stated. 

“Gunnery Sergeant Cole, I’ve alerted base to our situation, but... the last er last time something happened she didn’t have next of kin listed” One of the rookies whispered "I'm aware of that private” the tut that came from Trent as he worked went unnoticed.

"Trent," Jason said "CASEVAC is 5 mikes out," he said about to continue speaking when Trent spoke up "Not fast enough, she's bleeding internally and externally, sounds like she has a collapsed lung on the left side, pupils are active but respond sluggishly" 

"Head trauma?"  Jason asked

"Possibly, can’t remove her helmet, too risky" 

It was hell, multiple wounds needing packed, it came down to him to keep her alive “The hell was she thinking doing that” Ray asked from his watchpoint, Clay snorted “She probably wasn’t Marines are paid to act not think” Sonny muttered, Clay focusing on getting a saline line running. 

“Shut up” Trent snapped “If all you are going to do is complain go somewhere else, this isn’t the time for jokes” he muttered, using the scissors to cutting the material away from her side “Fuck, Clay, focus here” he muttered. The left side was coated in blood, it wouldn’t stop flowing, the lower abdomen was torn up from the blast she took. “Pack the wound and prepare for CASEVAC.” Trent said to Clay, who moved round to do so. 

“Trent, she’s stopped breathing”

“You need to intubate”  

“Craig, what do you think?” Cole asked, pulling the medic to the side, “You think she’s gonna make it?”

“Quite frankly. No. She might survive to base, but the injuries? What is he trying to treat? They aren’t gonna be ones to bounce back from” he said, looking back over, watching as Trent tried to stop the bleeding. “Why are you asking him?! He doesn’t know jackshit, he’s just stood there, don’t even think about taking over, she’s my patient” Trent warned. 

“Can’t get it in” Clay said, “Trent, gonna need you to intubate” he stated, handing over the equipment to their medic, who moved quickly, being careful, watching what he did, soon “I’m in” was heard “I’ll start bagging” Trent stated, moving to do his job “No pulse” he told Clay who moved quickly “beginning compressions” he informed them. 

“Havoc this is Bravo 2,” Ray said “Good Copy Bravo 2” Blackburn responded as Ray filled in TOC on the situation to relay to the casevac, as he helped Trent “Trent, I got it, for now, take a second,” their 2nd in command said.

“Can’t, I have experience with these types of wounds, she’s gonna need me” Trent said, blood coating the glove as he held pressure on the neck wound. “CASEVAC inbound” Sonny called from his spot.  

From that moment forward everything moved quickly, both Jason and Metal ordering Trent to go with Ashley and be checked out, then it became a matter of counting minutes, watching the medics work on his sister, he had to focus, keep calm, he needed to shut down any panic or thoughts, right now, in front of him was just another sailor. Who needed to survive. 

The second they landed on base, everything just went fast, he never saw where they took her. He was checked over, then sent to quarters, by the time sunrise came, the team was back with mission success. 

“Trent” Metal said, as he approached, looking at him, Trent knew what he wanted to know “They flew her out, they can’t treat the wounds here, they’ve sent her back stateside...I called Amelia to let her know what happened” Metal nodded listening to Trent, other members of Bravo approaching, followed by the Unit Ashley worked with, Trent got up, moving forwards grabbing their team medic “The hell were you thinking!?” he snapped “Freezing like that, it kills people!” 

"Now hang on!" Clarke snapped, shoving Trent's hands off his tactical vest "You shouldn't have been Messing with the injured! They are my responsibility!" he growled, both SEALs and Marines coming to a stop and turning to watch the two. 

"You would have killed them! The fuck is the matter with you!?"

"You're a SEAL, your priority is dealing with injuries on your team! Mine is to deal with those who will survive! You were working on someone who won't survive!" It wasn’t a secret that Cole and Clarkes disliked having any woman on their team, so finding an excuse to get them moved was always a go-to, or they would class them as their property, depending on how the females of the team were. 

"Are you stupid?! Your teammate would have died if I had waited on you to work! You're a piss poor excuse of a medic! You work on anyone no matter what team they are on!" Trent stated, Sonny and Clay grabbing Trent and pulling him back. 

"Bravo Four, get yourself under control" Cole snapped, the look Jason shot at him would be enough to stop anyone saying a word, but Cole didn't care as he continued "I don't see what your issue is about how my men acted. Or why you're pissed at Clarke. He's already said she won't survive" 

"Not like she has a family" Another person laughed, as they headed off to put their gear away. Missing the look Metal and Trent gave them. 

"Trent, go cool off" Jason ordered, watching their medic walk away. The rest of Bravo stood watching, not sure how to react. They still had two days before they could fly out home. 

Metal frowned “I would let him continue to chew him out” he stated, following the others to the equipment room “Can you believe they would just let her die there?” Clay said, frowning “the hell kind of people are they to do that” 

Metal was sorting out his equipment “Gonna need to report it, can’t have someone like him out there with us if he's gonna freeze” he stated, Ray nodding “I agree, we’ll say to Blackburn” 

It wasn’t long before everyone was going to either get food, get drinks or go get some sleep, Trent was sending messages to Amelia to let her know everyone was back unharmed. But to keep them updated on Ashley when she got brought in.

---

Stateside, Location: St Samuels Hospital

Nurses were rushing to help doctors prepare for the incoming injured Marine. 

The O.R being alerted, specialists being filled in about the condition of the patient. 

The plane was 4 hours out, medics in the air alerting them to any changes when Amelia came in. 

"Nurse Carter, I don't recommend you being here" one of the doctors stated, the people who worked with Amelia knew Trent, Metal, and Ashley, the minute they had got the name they didn't want their friend/colleague to be there. 

"Not going anywhere," Amelia said. 

No one sat still, which made the time pass a little quicker. Doors opening and a gurney being pushed through, someone was shouting out the patient's status. Ashley still hadn’t regained consciousness.   “Patients name is Ashley Sawyer, age 29, injuries to the left side, possible head injury, has yet to regain consciousness, allergic to morphine and co-codamol, blood type is O+” the medics informed the Doctors and nurses who would be taking over care. “Heart stopped for a minute, in field, intubation was in field”  Amelia watched as her friend, was wheeled through the double doors, she was to close to this one to work and help, but she would be there until Ashley woke up.

----

“Gentlemen, get some shut-eye, we’re in the process of getting tomorrow's mission greenlit” Blackburn informed Bravo “Best to rest up now. Trent, a word,” he says, as others move off to go sleep, Jason and Ray looking back at their teammate, seeing Metal hanging back to wait on Trent. 

“We got word that the Marine you treated has arrived stateside” Blackburn informs. 

“Thanks for letting me know” Trent sighed, Blackburn raised an eyebrow “doesn’t take a genius to figure out that marine is related to you,” he stated before leaving.

#Jason Hayes #Trent Sawyer #Ray Perry #Sonny Quinn #scott full metal carter #clay spenser #brock reynolds #Seal Team #eric blackburn #OC: Ashley Sawyer #OC: Amelia Carter #TW: injury #tw: swearing #tw: blood #tw: explosions #No Beta we die like men. Lol. #ao3 series

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Mirror [Heart of Steel]

Heart of Steel - One Shot

Do not read before you finish the series.

Bucky swore the winters got colder and colder every year. It made his travels more difficult and miserable. He never complained though. Who would he even complain to? He was on his own, traveling the world, living by his sword.

It had snowed in last night, making the dense forest peacefully quiet. Some would consider it eerie, but not Bucky. The snow muffled his horses steps, making it even easier for Bucky to hear his surroundings.

The main path through the forest was just beyond the ridge.

But Bucky never took the main roads, preferring to keep to himself and lessen the chances of running into company.

He could hear the carriage before he saw it.

It was quite the company. Both in front of and behind the carriage were five or six knights, escorting the carriage through the thick forest. There was a crest on the flags and armor of the knights, but Bucky was too far away to make it out.

Bucky figured it was a duke or priest, perhaps even a wealthy noble.

He didn’t really care and paid no mind, continuing on his journey discretely.

But then he heard the call.

His horse’s ears perked up at the sound, knowing it wasn’t natural.

The sound was meant to be concealed, making the naive just hear it as one of nature’s normal sounds.

But Bucky knew better.

Bandits and pillagers and mercenaries used it as signal and code before attacks, a way to communicate with each other without warning their victims and prey.

Bucky was far too familiar with the noise.

He wanted to ignore it, to mind his own business and continue on.

But his horse neighed and bobbed its head, almost even nudging its body in the direction of where the carriage had just passed.

“They’ll be fine,” Bucky muttered to the beast. “They had a dozen knights with them.”

But the horse ignored his command to move forward. Sometimes the animal knew Bucky more than he knew himself.

The carriage was most likely outnumbered. The attack would be a massacre. 

Whether the pillagers wanted money or blood or coition, they would get it no matter what. 

The nobles were doomed, not standing a chance.

Bucky growled in frustration, but gave in.

His heels dug into the horse’s side and he guided it in the direction of main path.

The horse instantly responded, jumping into a gallop.

Bucky heard the screams and clashing of metal first. The fight was beyond the ridge and he couldn’t see the fight yet. The attack had moved quicker than he could’ve predicted.

When his horse broke the line, he found the chaos. A tree had been chopped down, blocking the path in front of the company – stopping them from escaping. Their carriage was flipped onto its side. Knights were already fighting the pillagers. There were women trying to make a run for it, somehow having made it out of the carriage alive.

But Bucky didn’t notice these things first.

Instead, he noticed the banners, the flags, the armor.

This carriage belonged to Midgard.

His heart immediately sped and his eyes raced around looking for her y/h/c hair. She would be fighting, she wouldn’t have made a run for it.

But the Queen of Midgard was nowhere to be seen.

Bucky snapped out of it then and joined the fight, unsheathing his sword and taking out of the pillagers one or even two at a time.

His presence instantly got the enemy’s attention. Many shifted their attacks onto him. 

Meanwhile, one of them had tackled a woman to the ground, a servant or a lady-in-waiting. The man was now trying to rip her dress open. The woman was helpless, begging for him to both stop and trying to fight him off of her.

Bucky jumped from his horse and ripped the man off of her, slitting his throat just a second later.

The woman gasped at the sight.

Bucky lowered his sword and helped her to her feet.

“Run for the bushes. Stay hidden until it is safe,” his words were strict and brisk.

But the woman was in shock and only stared into his face.

“Go!” Bucky scared her back to reality with the raising of his voice.

She yelped, but finally did as she was told.

Due to the distraction, Bucky turned to find another enemy attacking with his sword already raised and coming down upon him.

But just as Bucky attempted to block the swing and defend himself, the man’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack. His movement was completely halted and he fell to the ground. An arrow was sticking out of his back.

Bucky looked up to find his savior, but found no one.

The fight was starting to die down. Either the pillagers had been taken down or they had made a run for it, scared of the challenge they hadn’t expected.

A few yards away, there was a young man fighting three men at once.

He was holding his own, but Bucky went to his aid nonetheless.

The young man mistakenly put his back to one of the assailants as he fought another. It could've gotten him killed if Bucky hadn’t rushed forward and took him down. Meanwhile the young man had killed the other two.

But he knew he had made a mistake turning his back and quickly whipped around to face his third enemy.

Bucky froze when the man finally turned.

But it wasn’t a man. He was merely a boy –  couldn’t be older than 17 or 18 years of age. A boy that Bucky swore couldn’t be real, for he looked to be plucked straight out of his childhood and memory.

“Steve?” Bucky muttered quietly.

The boy’s brow furrowed.

Then Bucky’s mind finally seemed to clear. “Prince Joseph?”

The boy blinked and opened his mouth to clarify.

But it was stopped by someone putting a sword to Bucky’s throat from behind him.

“Drop your sword,” a feminine voice spoke harshly from his blind spot.

“Isabella!” The boy chided.

Bucky kept his sword in his hand put his left arm up in an innocent motion.

The blade pressed harder against his throat with the movement.

“His armor holds no insignia. He could be one of them,” she hissed.

“He saved my life,” Joseph explained.

“And mine, Your Highness,” another female voice chimed in meekly. It was the servant girl.

“Turn around,” the girl commanded, keeping the blade against his throat.

Bucky did as he was told, but refused to drop his own sword.

What he was met with was mirror image of Y/N. The girl – no older than 14 years of age – had Steve’s blue eyes and dark blonde hair. But everything else was Y/N.

The sight shook Bucky to his core.

“You should be careful who you threaten with your sword, Your Highness,” Bucky warned lightly with a teasing glint in his eyes.   Now that he could see the actual blade, he could also see that it was covered in blood, proving that she had very much used it and most likely killed many men today.

“And you should watch your tongue, drifter.” The princess showed no fear.

Not only was she wearing light armor, but there was a bow strapped across her chest and quiver of arrows hanging from her shoulder.

Bucky glanced at the fletchings and realized they matched the one that was now in the back of the dead man who almost killed him.

The princess had saved his life.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Bucky caught Isabella off guard and maneuvered her sword into the air, catching it was his left hand.

Isabella was taken by surprise, but quickly recovered. In the same motion that Bucky held the two swords at the ready, Isabella had grabbed an arrow from her quiver, knocked it on her bow, and pointed it at Bucky’s chest.

Bucky smirked at her defiance and persistence. “Now that we have proven that if I wished to kill you, I would have… Shall we all put down our weapons?”

Without waiting for them to agree, Bucky thrust both swords into ground, handle up.

“Isabella, please.” Prince Joseph urged and stepped around Bucky to his sister’s side.

She finally lowered her bow, but kept the arrow knocked. “Who are you?”

To their surprise, Bucky then kneeled before them. “I am Sir James Barnes.”

Both of the royal children froze at the name, their eyes going wide.

“Impossible,” Isabella breathed.

They know who I am? Bucky thought.

“Mother’s knight,” Joseph stated boldly. It caused Bucky to raise his head and look at the prince. “We met. When I was just a little boy.”

“Aye,” Bucky nodded his head.

“Please, stand, Sir James.” Joseph ushered.

Just then the rest of their escort came hurrying back to the Prince and Princess.

“Your Highnesses, are you hurt?” Bucky could tell by his armor that it was a Knight of Howl, King Steven’s most skilled and dangerous battalion of knights.

“We are fine,” Isabella answered.

The knights and servants eyed Bucky, wondering if he was what was left from the attack.

“This is Sir James Barnes,” Joseph explained.

Everyone murmured to each other excitedly, knowing of the famous knight.

No matter how much he tried to fade away, Bucky’s reputation lived on. The stories seemed to have only multiplied since he parted from Y/N.

“I heard the signal of the pillagers. I came to give aid,” Bucky explained.

“It is much appreciated, sire.”

“What are you doing in these forests?” Bucky asked.

“We are on our way to visit our uncle in Zamora,” Joseph answered.

“Anthony?” Bucky blurted without thinking it.

“I believe you mean King Anthony of Zamora,” Isabella corrected with narrowed eyes.

Bucky looked around at the group who had survived the attack. Only half the knights remained. It seemed only the Knights of Howl made it.

“I shall escort you for the rest of the journey and assure you get to your destination safely,” Bucky declared. He left little room for arguing.

“We would be eternally grateful,” one of the knights bowed his head. They were no fools. The safety of the Prince and Princess was of the utmost importance. They would do whatever it took to insure they remained unharmed.

The group broke apart, collecting their weapons and horses and… their dead.

Bucky whistled and his horse came trotting to his side.

Isabella eyed it for a moment. No one was paying Bucky much attention any longer.

“Persephone?” She asked with quiet curiosity.

Her tone and attitude toward Bucky had seemed to shift now.

Bucky winced at the mentioning of his past horse. 

Y/N truly had told her children all about him.

“Nay, that beast died years ago. This is Bravo.”

Isabella frowned. But she stepped forward and stroked the horse’s neck. It nickered happily and nudged her face affectionately.

Isabella laughed lightly.

Bucky felt sick from the sound. Just like that, she looked exactly like her mother.

It was almost as if Bucky was being taunted.

A servant boy walked up with a horse – the princess’. An all silvery-gray stallion that was so clean and bright that only a princess would ever be seen riding it.

It seemed the carriage was only for the Isabella’s ladies-in-waiting and a few servants. She had been traveling on horseback.

“Will you ride beside me, Sir James?” Isabella asked innocently.

Bucky cleared his throat and nodded, “Of course, Your Highness.'

—————————————————

They made camp a few hours later, before the sun got too close to the horizon.

Now it was night and they had their tents up and a few fires scattered around to keep them warm and alert to their surroundings.

Isabella had surprisingly remained quiet throughout their journey.

But it left Bucky plenty of time to observe both her and her brother.

Isabelle was not a child, but still not yet a woman. However, her beauty had already made itself known and Bucky could only assume how stressed it made Steve, even now.

Joseph had the same kind heart that Steve did, but the sharpness and consciousness of his mother. He would make a great king, that Bucky knew.

Isabella grabbed the open seat next to Bucky at one of the fires.

He bowed his head slightly, “Your Highness.”

No one seemed to be paying much attention to their princess, too busy having conversations amongst themselves or being on the lookout.

A comfortable silence settled between the princess and the knight. The crackling of the fire was their only focus for a moment.  

“My mother,” Isabella muttered quietly. “She told me…about the two of you.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to her awaiting gaze, shocked by the confession.

“I am sorry for my rudeness earlier,” she added.

“You protect yourself the way your mother once did,” Bucky sighed, clearly not offended by her prior behavior.

“And how is that, Sir James?”

“With coldness and distrust. I do not mean it as an insult, Your Highness. It did well for her.”

Isabella smirked. Perhaps it was the firelight or that was she was educated in royal etiquette and kingdom affairs, but the princess seemed much older than her age.

Bucky could on assume princes and kings would be begging Steve for her hand in marriage any day now.

“Do you not wish to know what my mother told me of you?” Isabella practically whispered.

Bucky didn’t answer. Instead, his jaw flexed and he stared into the fire.

“He’s not as fond of the stories as I am,” Isabella’s gaze flickered to her older brother, who was sitting on the opposite side of the fire and speaking to one of his knights. “Our father is his greatest hero. To him, there is no better man. He does not like the idea of mother loving any other man but him.”

Bucky finally looked at the princess, a warning in his eyes. “Why did your mother insist on telling the two of you tales of me?”

Isabella smiled at the question. “She wanted us to know the difference between love and duty. And how only a few of us are fortunate enough to interweave the two.” She sighed, “I think she wished to prevent us from falling in love with someone we could not have. She was trying to protect us. Something no one had protected her from when she was our age.”

It hurt him to hear.

He cleared his throat in attempt to fight of any emotions. “And your father… Does he speak of me?”

Isabella frowned. “Not like her. Never like her. But he did once say he was a fortunate king, for there was someone who protected the love of his life before he could meet her and protect her himself.”

Bucky chuckled bitingly. But he had nothing to say to that.

“Do you still lover her – my mother?” Isabella whispered.

“Yes,” Bucky answered without the slightest hesitation.

The proclamation seemed to break the young princess’ heart.

“I am happy to have met you, Sir James. I am reminded that my mother had another life before she became Queen, before she had me.”

Bucky’s eyes turned sad. “I am happy to have met you as well, Your Highness.”

—————————————————

Y/N stood on the balcony of her bedchambers. It looked out onto the entire kingdom below. Her fingers gripped the bannister.

Then she felt a kiss to her shoulder and a strong pair of hands wrap around her waist.

“They will be fine, my love,” Steve whispered into her ear before kissing her neck.

“They could have been killed, Steve.”

He gently forced her to turn around and face them. “But they survived, completely unharmed. They have been trained well – you have trained them well. They are not helpless.” He kissed her forehead. “Furthermore, your brother practically sent a small army to escort them back home.”

Y/N chuckled at that.

“I have missed them. Two weeks has felt like two months,” the queen admitted.

“It is the same for me.” Then he smirked. “But I have enjoyed having you all to myself.”

There was a knock at the door. A servant walked in.

“Your Majesties,” they bowed. “The Prince and Princess have just reached the kingdom’s gates. They are home and safe.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Y/N whispered with a hand over her heart.

Steve grabbed her hand, “Come.”

Y/N practically tackled her two children when they arrived at the palace doors.

“Mother, we are fine. I promise,” Joseph tried to calm her as she squeezed him tightly.

“Yes, mother. Do not stress,” Isabella added. 

But Steve was pulling his daughter in his arms already and kissing the top of her head.

“And, mother, we brought a surprise…” Joseph nudged.

Y/N looked over her son’s shoulder to find a familiar face. Well, it was the familiar face of a boy who had now become a man.

“Peter!” Y/N gasped, rushing forward and wrapping the squire into a hug.

But he was a squire no longer. He was a knight. But not just any knight, he was the personal guard for King Anthony of Zamora.

Peter chuckled and when he escaped her hug, he lowered himself to a knee and bowed his head. “Your Majesty, it is good to see you again.”

“None of that,” Y/N urged him to his feet. “My God, you are no longer a boy.”

Peter smiled. “Hopefully I have not changed too much.”

“Yes, let us hope not.”

“King Anthony wished for me to escort Your Highnesses back home safely.”

“But will you not stay for at a few days? You must rest after the long journey. You simply cannot return home so soon,” Y/N begged.

Peter agreed easily.

Joseph and Isabella looked rather proud of themselves for making their mother so happy. It brought a smile to Steve’s face as well, seeing his wife so elated with the reunion.

Steve brought the attention back to his children. “Did you look after your sister?” He asked his son.

“More like I looked after him,” Isabella chimed in.

“Shall I tell them how Sir James managed to disarm you and steal your sword in one move?” Joseph teased his sister back.

Steve and Y/N looked at each other.

“Sir James?” Y/N gasped.

Then Joseph and Isabella shared a worried look.

“Did uncle not tell you in his letter?” Joseph asked.

Steve frowned. “He left that part out, it appears.”

“If it were not for him, who knows what would have become of us,” Isabella spoke quietly. “Father, Mother… he saved us.”

Y/N was trying to control her breathing.

Her eyes went to Peter’s, needing someone else to assure her the children were telling the truth.

Peter was tense, but gave a small nod.

Steve sensed Y/N’s distress.

“Go get settled,” he ordered his children. “The feast to celebrate your return will start soon.” “Come, Your Highnesses,” Peter urged, sensing the tension. He escorted the prince and princess to their wing.

“How is it possible?” Y/N whispered when she was alone with her husband.

Steve sighed, not having an answer.

“I owe a debt to a man whom I can never repay. A debt which seems to grow longer and longer – now it involves my children.”

The queen was silent. Her eyes were glazed over as she was in deep thought. 

“Y/N,” Steve whispered. “Y/N, please look at me.”

She did.

“Are you alright?”

“I…I do not know,” her hand went to her chest. “I am…feeling…a little faint.”

Steve did not blame her. He took her hand gently and started guiding her back to their bedchambers.

“Lay down for a moment,” he instructed as he pointed to the bed.

She opened her mouth to protest.

“Please, Y/N? I will wake you when the feast is about to begin.”

————————————

Y/N woke up, feeling like a fool for the way she reacted. The last time she had seen Bucky was just after Isabella had been born. It had been almost 15 years.

She never thought she would even hear his name again.

But the man she once loved – the man who had once protected her – had saved her children. The children she bore with a man that was not him.

It seemed like he was her guardian angel, protecting what she loved most, even after she had abandoned him all that time ago.

Y/N wished she could see him again and thank him. But she knew better. Bucky would never step foot into Midgardian country ever again.

Throughout the feast, Steve left his queen be, allowing her to process her emotions and thoughts in peace. He took on the responsibility of entertaining their guests.

Peter sat on the other side of the Queen, upon her request.

She managed to pull herself together enough to ask Peter questions about his life.

But her old friend knew that there was something off. And he knew what.

“When I saw Sir James riding alongside Her Highness, it felt as if I had gone back in time,” he told Y/N quietly.

Y/N glanced at her daughter, who was dancing in the middle of the room and laughing carelessly.

“The Knights of Howl said he stayed by her side for the entire journey, watching over her,” Peter added. “When he walked into the courtyard, I swear he half expectedly you to come running out of the castle as you once did.”

Y/N did not know what to say.

“I miss him too,” Peter finally confessed. “I know it is nothing to the loss that you have suffered, but miss him I do. He was the closest thing to a father I ever had.”

The queen still said nothing. But she reached forward and gripped his hand, giving him a sad smile.

Her eyes told Peter everything she could not say.

A few days later, when Peter was finally making his leave, he was surprised to find the king making his way toward him. Peter had already said his goodbyes to the royal family earlier.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed his head.

“Peter, I must ask you a favor. I do not know if it is possible, but if anyone can accomplish this, it is you.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“I need you to get this letter to Sir James.”

Peter was taken aback by the request. He froze, but quickly recovered. “I will try my best, Your Majesty.”

Steve gripped his shoulder. “Thank you for looking after my children.” Then he smiled sadly. “And for bringing my wife such joy. She was very happy to see you again.”

During his short detour, Peter wanted nothing more than to open the letter. But he couldn’t possibly disrespect the King of Midgard in such a way.

But every lead he got on Bucky’s location ended in disappointment.

Bucky didn’t want to be found, so he made sure he never was.

It had been almost 3 weeks of searching, Peter had to get back to Zamora. He couldn’t avoid his duties as King Anthony’s personal guard any longer.

Peter was sitting by the fire in the small camp he’d made for himself.

The scroll King Steven gave him was sticking out of his saddlebag, mocking him.

“Damn it to hell,” Peter muttered as he shot to his feet and grabbed it before he could change his mind.

He undid the seal and his eyes flashed across the letter. 

Sir James Barnes,

I feel as though you have given me a debt of which I can never repay. You looked after Y/N time and time again. I expected her personal guard to keep her safe and protect her with their life. What I never expected was for you to do the same for my son and daughter. I wish to tell you that if there is anything I can do for you – I beg of you – please ask. I could give you the world and it would not be enough for what you have done for my family.

Peter winced at ‘family,’ the thing that Bucky could never have with Y/N. 

Then the tone of the letter changed.

However, I imagine the only thing you could ever want from me… I have already taken for myself. For which, I do not expect you to ever forgive me. But I promise you one thing, I have tried with all of my heart to love her as she deserves, to make her as happy as one could possibly be. I believe I have been prosperous with my efforts. I am hopeful that it makes a difference to you, perhaps makes you less hateful towards me.

But I have lived long enough to accept that I do not deserve your forgiveness.

Just know that the King of Midgard will grant anything you desire for keeping his most beloved treasures safe.

I hope this letter finds you well, if it finds you at all.

Peter stared at the words again. Then he shifted his gaze to the distant horizon. The moon was full and reflecting off of the snow, making the night as bright as ever.

Sir James Barnes did not protect Y/N for recognition or reward. He had done it because he loved her. 


And saving Joseph and Isabella? Sir James had done so, not for the glory or compensation, but because it was the right thing to do. He had always helped those who could not help themselves. Peter took in a deep breath and bent forward, placing the letter over the flames until they caught onto the paper.

The knight watched as the words caught fire and he didn’t stop watching until they were ash.

Bucky would find no comfort in the king’s words.

Peter knew that.

----------------------

I don’t think I’ve ever written anything so quickly in my life. I was just really fucking inspired.  Please, please, please tell me your thoughts and feelings. 

#heart of steel #heart of steel one shot #heart of steel drabbles #heart of steel asks #heart of steel questions #knight!bucky #knight!bucky x reader #king!steve rogers #medieval marvel au #marvel medieval au #medieval avengers au #Princess Isabella Marie #Princess Isabella Marie of Midgard #Princess Isabella of Midgard #King Steven of Midgard #medieval!tony stark #medieval!peter parker #knight!peter parker #king!tony stark #king!steve rogers x queen!reader

[ponydera]

Me Day prompt

Me Day

Grand Evil Overlord Raufel lays in his bed, discontent with the world and works on building up the energy to drag himself out of bed. He had another day of evil schemes to overthrow the kingdom and the schemes weren’t going to complete themselves. Like a rag doll, he pulls himself into a sitting position and swings his legs over the side of his bed and into his slippers. He groans as he stands and puts on his night robe and shuffles to the bathroom. “I look like the undead.” Overlord Raufel thinks as he stares at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes looked slightly bloodshot, his goatee is sticking out weirdly and his hair is falling on either side of his head instead of its usual slicked-back look.

Rather than get ready for the day, Overlord Raufel decides to prioritize caffeine consumption and makes his way to his kitchen to get some coffee. He stares into space as the coffee gurgles and dispenses into the coffee pot when he hears a knock on the door behind him. Turning around to the open doorway he sees a short girl with brown pigtails in one of his army’s Colonel uniforms. The girl introduces herself as Lola and that she is awaiting his commands for the day. Overlord Raufel just looks back at the coffee maker before declaring “Cancel today’s schemes! I need to rework them.”

“But sir, the kingdom’s head knight and hero will be showing up today. If we don’t do anything to stop him, he will decimate our army and we will lose the chance to fight back later!” Lola pleads to the Evil Overlord.

“Yes, but whatever I create today will just be destroyed by him like always and then we’re left cleaning up the mess. If we have to clean up a mess anyways, I’d prefer to have a day off to gather my thoughts.” Overlord Raufel replies.

“So, you just want a day to think over your schemes, sir?”

The Overlord just nods.

“Then I will take care of the hero today! You focus on your thoughts sir and I will make sure that he does not take out the army!”

This declaration causes the Evil Overlord to turn around and stare at Colonel Lola suspiciously. “You mean to tell me, “he says slowly “that today, you are going to do my job for me?”

“Absolutely, sir!” She replies. “I’ll just use and modify some of the previous machines and traps we have used so you don’t have to worry about coming up with anything new!”

The coffee is finally done so Overlord Raufel pours himself a cup, takes a sip, and then turns and gives the girl his full attention. “And all I have to do today is keep to myself and keep an eye on you through the looking glass then…” He ponders this opportunity that has been given to him. He hasn’t had a day off or time to himself in a long time, all he’s ever done is fight the hero and the kingdom, and he’s so tired. “I do need the break. Plus, I can just keep an eye on what happens, I don’t actually need to be there and oversee everything if she’s a Colonel…” “Alright, I’ll let you take over for the day, I have high hopes Colonel.” The Evil Overlord encourages Lola. With a sweep of his robe, the Grand Evil Overlord Raufel retires for the day leaving Lola behind to get to work.

…

A young man with blond hair and green eyes bursts into the compound using his blade to break down any obstacles in his way. He hears this maniacal laughter coming from balcony nearby and he sees a girl looking down at him as he cuts down the traps that lie all the way to the front of the fortress.

“I’m looking to defeat Grand Evil Overlord Raufel and be done with this farce! Where is he?” The hero apparent yells towards the girl. The girl is wearing the Overlords army’s Colonel outfit so she must be high enough rank to know where the Overlord is. The girl just laughs at the hero again and announces “The Grand Evil Overlord had more important things to do today than deal with you so I am putting you in your place instead!” The hero scoffs.

“I will take you out and then confront him for acting like he could just pawn me off to some lackey!” And then he rushes towards her balcony and makes a magnificent leap to meet her. The hero thinks he’s caught her off guard as he raises his sword to cut her down but, in a flash, she defends with her own saber. Putting in extra force, the Colonel sends the hero backwards into the traps laid out below. He barely misses one that would have frozen him and place and rights himself. He focuses just in time to block the Colonel as she leaps down and make her way towards him.

“I am Colonel Lola of the Grand Evil Overlord Raufel’s army and I will make sure that no harm comes to his fortress!” She declares as she rushes the hero.

The battle carries on across the field in front of the fortress; explosions from mines that were planted, vines and chains sprung up to capture anyone who set foot near the building, and walls of fire shoot up as a defense response. Lola manages to push the hero back to the front gate and pauses to catch her breath with a triumphant smile on her face. The hero, confused, looks past her to see that all the paths into the fortress have been closed because of all the traps that were set off during their fight. Maybe this Lola girl lives up to her title of ‘Colonel.’

“Clearly I’ve lost today’s battle so I will retreat for the time being. But know that I will be back and I will stop you and your Evil Overlord!” And with that, the hero retreats into the forest and out of sight. Lola sighs happily and slumps her shoulders and turns to look at the mess she had to clean up – at least the fortress is unharmed. And with that she gets to work with other army members to clean up the field.

…

Overlord Raufel has sunken contently into his chair and thinks over the battle he just witnessed. Maybe it was time that he started delegating more to his army since they certainly showed that they could handle the hero. This would give him more time to himself and perhaps he could even have another “me day.”

#writing #writing prompt #nanowrimo #mental health #me day #self care

[fidei]

We should be Christians in deed, as well as in name

The beginning of St Ignatius of Antioch's letter to the Magnesians

Ignatius, also called Theophorus, to the church at Magnesia on the Maeander, a church blessed with the grace of God the Father in Christ Jesus, our Saviour, in whom I salute you. I send you every good wish in God the Father and in Jesus Christ.

  I was delighted to hear of your love of God, so well-ordered and devout, and so I decided to address you in the faith of Jesus Christ. Honoured as I am with a name of the greatest splendour, though I am still in chains I sing with the praises of the churches, and pray that they be united with the flesh and the spirit of Jesus Christ, who is our eternal life; a union in faith and love, to which nothing must be preferred; and above all a union with Jesus and the Father, for if in him we endure all the power of the prince of this world, and escape unharmed, we shall make our way to God.

  I have had the honour of seeing you in the person of Damas your bishop, a man of God, and in the persons of your worthy presbyters, Bassus and Apollonius, and my fellow-servant, the deacon Zotion; may I continue to take delight in him for he is obedient to the bishop as to the grace of God, and to the presbyters as to the law of Jesus Christ.

  Now it hardly becomes you to presume on your bishop’s youth, but rather, having regard to the power of God the Father, to show him every mark of respect. This, I understand, is what your holy presbyters do, not taking advantage of his youthful condition but deferring to him with the prudence which comes from God, or rather not to him but to the Father of Jesus Christ, to the bishop of all. So then, for the honour of him who loves us, it is proper to obey without hypocrisy; for a man does not so much deceive the bishop he can see as try to deceive the bishop he cannot see. In such a case he has to reckon not with a man, but with God who knows the secrets of the heart.

  We should then really live as Christians and not merely have the name; for many invoke the bishop’s name but do everything apart from him. Such men, I think, do not have a good conscience, for they do not assemble lawfully as commanded.

  All things have an end, and two things, life and death, are side by side set before us, and each man will go to his own place. Just as there are two coinages, one of God and the other of the world, each with its own image, so unbelievers bear the image of this world, and those who have faith with love bear the image of God the Father through Jesus Christ. Unless we are ready through his power to die in the likeness of his passion, his life is not in us.

[dwellordream]

Hey, I don't know if you are in the mood for such frippery, but would you do a director's cut on chapter 69? That is one of my most reread chapters of h/h, and not simply because Nell and Harry are arguing in church.

It’s been a long time since I did one, but I can try:

Nell starts off the chapter believing the Neck’s mystical reputation and location as the entry to the North is responsible for the return of her cryptic dreams.

She attempts to rationalize her old dreams of her mother and Sara Snow by telling herself it was just the subconscious manifestation of her insecurities and fears and guilt over her childhood, and also tries to dismiss the creeping sense that Robb and Grey Wind were linked from the very start, in a supernatural manner.

She also expresses worries and fears over the fact that Robb’s health has not improved during their travel north, and he and Grey Wind continue to avoid each other, whatever bond they had mangled. Meanwhile, Harry has confided in her his fears that they will start losing large numbers of men to desertion, as they enter the North and with the winter weather only worsening.

Nell acknowledges Harry’s more practical concerns but admits all she can focus on is getting Lysara back, and then goes into her latest nightmare. While pregnant she dreamed of a son leading her through a peaceful, sunny Riverrun. Now she’s left Riverrun, perhaps permanently, and dreams of an older Lysara leading her through the dungeons of the Dreadfort, the exact inversion of her old hopeful dreams.

Nell acknowledges that they are down in the crypts near her dead siblings, and is alarmed when Lysara runs ahead, leading her straight to a flayed figure. Nell initially believes the person is Bethany, then realizes in horror that it’s actually herself, comforting Lysara. Nell reacts furiously to her almost-dead self, commanding the figure to release Lysara; instead the flayed Nell begins to strangle her own child.

On the one hand, this dream expresses a very literal fear of her own father and brother; if captured by them her fate is likely to be gruesome. On the other hand, this dream also reflects Nell’s childhood dread of her home- the place she should have felt safe, but never did- and the lost potential of a home with Robb and Lysara, as well as guilt over losing her daughter and blaming herself for the possibility of Lysara’s death.

It also acknowledges that Nell would rather Lysara be dead than grow up abused and terrified of Roose and Ramsay, something she cannot admit in real life, that she would rather Lysara have a quick death than a lifetime of suffering.

Upon waking angrily, Nell rejects her Bolton heritage and the Dreadfort’s claim on her once again, thinking that her only pride was always in her mother’s legacy, not her father’s. She trues to convince herself Lysara must be alive and unharmed, but admits she never believed Roose would betray and murder Robb, either.

Nell reflects on the crannogmen’s isolated existence; like the mountain clans they prefer to marry amongst themselves, as their insular, hard lifestyle is very hard for most outsiders, even fellow northerners, to adjust to.

Arden Greengood shows up to inform them that his father Karl Greengood has notified Greywater Watch, who is coming to them, rather than them trying to find it. Now the army just has to wait, not exactly a comfortable experience in the middle of the swamps and marsh.

Arya feels suffocated because she doesn’t have any child companions since Harry sent him back south to Starfall, judging the travel north too dangerous for Edric and that his aunt Allyria must be worried sick about him. Nell is sympathetic but unwilling to let Arya wander, after having just reunited her with her mother.

Nell also knows that Oldtown is in danger from Euron’s fleet, but is privately relieved the Ironborn are not trying to attack the North again for the time being.

Arya expressed worry for the former household of Winterfell, and wants to rescue whoever is still alive, remembering them all by name, to Nell’s surprise. There also seems to be a massive wolf pack following the army north, though Nell doesn’t connect them to Arya.

Nell wants to sacrifice a goat to the old gods for their continued safety as they travel north. She is unnerved by Robb’s disinterest and refusal to participate, not because he disagrees with sacrifice but because he is now apathetic towards the gods, and frightens Nell by telling her he didn’t feel them when he died, or like he was going to any kind of afterlife. He only felt the painful, horrifying sensation of his soul being unwillingly forced back into his corpse.

Nell argues that the gods meant to help them by returning Robb to her, and that they must have some great purpose for him. Robb denies this, and reacts angrily, telling her he doesn’t feel or think all the things she believes he should. He remembers he loves her, but that’s it, and blames himself for being ‘weak’ and not seeing the betrayal coming, which Nell rejects, calling himself a failure.

He reviled the fear he felt when Roose killed him, and tells Nell he no longer fears, so he won’t fail again. He wants her to give the goat to Grey Wind to eat instead, as hunger is one of the few things that matters to him anymore. Nell is distraught and refuses, telling him to go see Catelyn, who still loves him, even if she is afraid.

We then get to the infamous godswood scene. The godswood in the neck are all tiny islands and islets, not proper sprawling gardens. The baby goat obliviously accompanies Nell, and when she kills it she almost breaks down into tears at its trusting innocence. Despite this, Nell still arranges its entrails and prays, hoping the slaughter of the innocent goat will appease the gods, who, ironically, she views as hungry and unfeeling as Robb himself.

Harry then shows up to interrupt her alone time, much to her annoyance. They speak about the coming fight for Moat Cailin and he warns her that the North may not automatically flock back to Robb’s cause, and that Barbrey may sell them out. Nell is infuriated and insists Barbrey is only going along with Roose to protect Lysara, while Harry warns her not to depend on House Dustin or Ryswell for support, especially after the execution of her uncle.

This then devolves into a general fight over Robb. Harry flat out tells her Robb is dead, never getting better, and that most people know it. He also insinuates that while Robb can still fight, he could never rule as king again after this. Nell is incensed and accuses Harry of speaking treason, which he ignores, insisting she is in denial. He also accuses Robb of being a warg, which Nell takes as him calling Robb a heartless monster.

Nell calls him a power hungry fool blinded by his own fear, which be explodes at, reminding her that he helped get them this far in the first place, and reunited Arya with her family. If he wanted power he could have easily killed Robb (again) and left Nell to her fate. This is somewhat ironic as we later find out that Harry almost did kill Robb when he was being revived.

He reminds Nell that his family line descends from the Starks and that they want the same thing, while Nell realizes, despite her fury, that he is isn’t lying or trying to manipulate her. She almost feels she can read him better than she can Robb, which frightens her. This sense of intimacy with Harry is disturbing as Robb slips further and further from her.

Finally, Nell admits that Robb may not be able to rule after they take back Winterfell, but won’t consider what might happen to him, just insists that Lysara is still his heir and will someday be queen. She wants Lysara to be loved and respected, even if the North never loves Nell herself as her family’s actions.

Harry admits she will never be publicly loved, but points out the first Starks were not loved after conquering the North, either, even though they viewed their actions, like all conquerors, as part of the greater good. However the Stark name is still beloved now, even though they were hated by many at the start of their dynasty.

Harry warns her again against putting her faith in Robb’s rule, and that’s that.

Nell admits that what she and Harry just discussed was treason, and that she can no longer confide in Robb. He has no more room for nuance or understanding of these things and would kill Harry immediately. She also finally admits to herself that he is actively dying. Despite her desperate prayers, they will never live a long and happy life together, even if they get their daughter back. She is going to lose him again, and doesn’t know if she can go through the grief again.

Lying awake with Robb that night, he surprises her by asking about the color of Lysara’s eyes. Nell admits sadly that she doesn’t know, it’s been so long. Ruefully she asks what color he’d prefer, which he can’t answer. They fall asleep together dwelling on their loss, and in the morning Greywater Watch arrives.

#ask #haunt/hunt #anon