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swtorpadawan · 4 years

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Theron Shan in Absolute Trust

Author's Notes: FYI - This is an older piece written a couple of years ago. The Alliance Commander depicted in the following story is decidedly NOT my OC, Corellan Halcyon, but another JK Outlander. It takes place shortly after Knights of the Eternal Throne.

This is all just between us, right? Strictly our little secret? Good. Because you know I'd hate to have to kill you.

So, go ahead and pull up a chair. I'll buy you a Corellian Brew, and then I'll tell you a story.

People ask me, 'Why stay with the Eternal Alliance?' Oh, sure, back when the Eternal Empire was off subjugating the galaxy, it was easy to see why so many people would jump at the chance to join an organization dedicated to taking it down, especially when most of the really big players had rolled over to it. But why stay afterwards? Now that the war is over, hasn't the Alliance fulfilled its purpose? Shouldn't we all just go back to being Republic, or Empire, or Zakuulan, or whatever?

Well, for me, the answer is simple: Our Commander is the reason I stayed. He's the reason I've believed in the Alliance for as long as I have.

I have a great story to illustrate my point, but first it needs some background on my friend and leader.

Nowadays, people just call him the Commander. So much so that most seem to have forgotten his actual name.

He used to be called 'the Outlander' by the masses, a name Arcann gave him as an insult but that he turned into a title of respect among friends and enemies alike.

Before that? Oh, he had a bunch of other titles. Master Jedi. Hero of Tython. Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. The Conqueror of the Sith Emperor. He held the honorary rank of General in the Galactic Republic. I think he was also a Paladin of House Organa of Alderaan - you know, If you're into that sort of thing. The Gree call him the 'Black Bisector of Coruscant'. (Yeah, I don't know either.) Oh, and a few of our recent Zakuulan recruits quietly call him the 'Dragon of Zakuul' when they think no one can overhear them. There's a story there for another time. The Commander's been a bunch of things over the course of a relatively short life. He's been a Jedi, a soldier, a hero, a Champion of the free galaxy, a rebel, a savior and now finally a peacemaker.

Yeah, it's true – his reputation has always been as a warrior first. And probably the greatest in the galaxy. That's one reason why he's inspired so many martial types – Jedi, Sith, Republic and Imperial Commandos, Mandalorians, heck, even gangsters – to his side. And then keep them there. He wins a lot. I admit, I really do regret not being present for his showdowns with Arcann or Vaylin or Valkorian. What can I say? He needed me someplace else in each case. I do remember his fight against Revan a few years ago, though. A bunch of us fought by his side. Myself, Lana Beniko, Satele Shan - the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Lord Scourge - the Sith Lord who used to be the Emperor's Wrath, Darth Marr - who was basically running the Sith Empire at that point, Shae Vizla - who went on to become Mandalore, Jakarro - this Wookie bounty hunter we had buddied up with – all serious customers. Even with all of us behind him, the Commander – who was still just a Jedi Master at the time - stood out. Watching him in that fight was like nothing else I've seen. There's no way we could have taken down Revan without him. And if anything, he's only become more powerful since then. It's kinda scary when you think about it.

What's that? Who am I? Oh, sorry. Theron Shan, at your service. Former agent of the Galactic Republic's Strategic Information Service (that's "spy" to those of you not in the know), sometime hero and adventurer, now a senior adviser to the Commander of the Eternal Alliance.

But getting back to the Commander - This man has taken blows that would have crushed anyone else. Falling to the dark side, then bouncing back. Losing those years of his life when he was imprisoned in carbonite, knowing most of his friends were missing and maybe even dead, seeing almost everything he'd fought for destroyed in his absence. Then being hounded by the Eternal Empire with just a handful of allies when he finally got free. Then later watching his nascent Alliance being abandoned by the Senate of the very Galactic Republic he had once championed. Watching friends and allies die in the final battles to take down the Eternal Empire, and finally overcoming Valkorion in a battle for his own mind.

I've seen him win so many battles and lose so much along the way, I honestly don't know how he keeps going. But he does. And deep down, I knew he always would.

And I think everyone else in the Alliance pretty much thought the same.

What's that? Am I related to… Oh, kriff, really? Alright, yes, fine. I am the illegitimate son of Master Satele Shan, former Grand Master of the Jedi Order. (Who incidentally was the Commander's boss at the time we met.) Yes, I am a descendant of Bastila Shan, hero of the Jedi Civil War centuries ago. And if the name Revan means anything to you, yeah, I can claim him as an ancestor, too. And heck, why shouldn't we bring up the fact that my father is Jace Malcolm, the Supreme Commander of the Republic military? And that I didn't even meet either of my parents until I was almost thirty? And that my mother apparently went into hiding years ago after the Eternal Empire invaded, and that she didn't even bother to send me a message to tell me she was alright?

Not that I'm, you know, bitter or anything.

Anyway…

The Commander and I, though, we've been through a lot, since well before Zakuul invaded. Heck, we even met a couple of times before that Korriban operation went sideways and eventually led to us meeting Lana and squaring off with Revan. We kept that hush-hush, though. My old bosses at the SIS wouldn't have approved of what we were doing. It's possible my mother wouldn't have been okay with it either. Story for another time.

In all our time together, he never brought up the fact that Satele was my mother. Or that I was raised as a Jedi initiate as a kid before washing out because I didn't have 'the gift' of the Force. Don't tell anyone, particularly him, but I always… really appreciated that.

I don't want to sound like I'm bragging here, but I don't think I'd be totally out of line if I told you I'm probably the Commander's best friend at this point. Nothing touchy-feely, you understand. In my job, I don't place too much stock in terms like that, but it's likely true. There are only two people in the whole Alliance he's known for longer than he's known me, and both of those are members of his old crew, back when he was just a Jedi running around the galaxy with five companions in one small ship. They're both good people, don't get me wrong, but one is an AstroMech droid who talks in beeps and whistles and the other is a drill Sergeant with the personality of a Durasteel wall. So as far as confidantes go, yeah, I feel I'm at the top of his list when it's time to share memories over a beer.

Not that he does that a lot, being a former Jedi, but we have.

Of course, then there's Lana, who is a very special case.

Lana Beniko, the former Minister of Sith Intelligence. Brilliant. Ruthless. Beautiful. Deadly. We'd become partners of convenience years ago when were both on the run during the Revanite Crisis. We worked well together. I respected her. I even liked her. We were friends. Even good friends. But I never forgot that she was a Sith. She and I had a little incident back on Rishii when she let me get captured and tortured by the Order of Revan so she and the Commander could find their base by tracking me down.

I mean, that was a long time ago, so I'm mostly over it.

Mostly.

Anyway, so Lana was the one who freed the Commander from that carbonite prison in the Spire on Zakuul. She searched for him almost non-stop for five years, even after everyone else had given him up for dead. She risked everything to rescue him, convinced that he was the only one who could defeat the Eternal Empire. Since then, she's been totally dedicated to his cause, building the foundation of the Alliance up from nothing and rarely leaving his side, except when he needed her to. Heck, she even chose the location of our headquarters here on Odessen.

Eventually, she and the Commander even started sharing a bunk. So, you know, they're close. Special case, like I said.

(And just for the record, Lana's interest in the Commander as more than just an ally? Totally called it years ago. This was right after that thing on Ziost, when she didn't have the Commander and I killed for not turning a Vitiate-possessed Jedi Master over to her for an 'examination'. Believe me, she didn't hold off for my sake.)

If the Commander was the heart and soul of the Alliance, Lana was the mind. Her intelligence and ruthless determination helped forge a grassroots resistance movement into an organization rivaling the great powers of the galaxy. The Commander consults with her on every major decision.

(Me? I try to be the Alliance's conscience. Hey, don't look at me like that. Someone needed to do it.)

Some of the troops – the few who were with us way back on Yavin years ago – they still call the three of us the Triumvirate. Sounds like a gang of spice dealers of Nar Shadaa, I know. But just between us, I always kind of liked it. A Jedi, a Sith and an SIS Agent. Sounds like the opening of a bad joke.

Instead, we saved the galaxy. More than once.

But here's my story. So, a few months after the Commander took down Valkorian and claimed the Eternal Throne, Lana and I were vetting the application for a potential recruit. We'll call the guy Slade, though you can bet your last credit that it wasn't his real name.

He was ex-Sith Intelligence, one of their 'Watchers'. He had briefly worked for Lana years ago before the Eternal Empire had invaded.

Now I'm a spy by trade myself, but this guy was shifty even for my line of work. Lana was suspicious of him right from the start when he came to us. Said she remembered Slade as being too "old Empire", loyal only to the most powerful Sith within arm's reach. She also assessed that he changed loyalties too fast to be trusted with important assignments. She said he could be insufferably flattering to a superior, and equally arrogant to his subordinates. Lana concluded that it was incredibly suspicious that he was choosing to join us now, and not months before, when the rebellion was in full swing.

I tried playing devil's advocate for a while, but Slade's background check generated too many red flags, including the suspicious shifting of a large amount of credits to his accounts through the Hutt Cartel, but originating elsewhere. We couldn't trace the origin, but when he waffled on his explanations for where the money came from, we both agreed it was best to give him the boot.

Lana and I were escorting Slade to the shuttles with a couple of Alliance troopers – one ex-Republic, the other former Imperial. That's how we try to do it. No restraints; we were still treating him with kid gloves at this point. We were walking past the war room – basically the command center of the whole base – when Slade spots the Commander. He was talking to Hylo Visz, our former celebrity smuggler turned Head of Underworld Logistics for the Alliance. They were probably going on about trade routes, but Hylo is one the few people in the galaxy who can honestly relate with the Commander's experience of having spent a few years frozen in carbonite, only to wake up to a galaxy that looked very different from how they left it. So I guess they did have that much in common, anyway.

Arcann was by his side, too. Yes, it was that Arcann. Valkorian's son, who had seized the Eternal Throne and invaded the rest of the galaxy. The one who had imprisoned the Commander in carbonite for five years, then hunted him and his allies down for months. The one most of us had joined the Alliance to stop in the first place. But when the time came, the Commander barely hesitated to trust that Senya, Arcann's mother, was right that there was good in him. How crazy is that? But then he joined us after being redeemed, helping us stop both Vaylin and Valkorian. Arcann was now one of the Commander's most powerful supporters.

In a private moment, Arcann had once asked the Commander how he had been able to forgive him for everything Arcann had done, both to the Commander and to the rest of the galaxy. The Commander just told him that if he hadn't given Arcann that chance, everything the Commander's life had stood for would have meant nothing.

Yeah, every once in a while, the Commander could be as enigmatic as the most wizened Jedi Master.

Anyway, Slade suddenly makes a break for it, running straight towards the Commander. He was a slippery one to make it as far as he did. Now if we hadn't already been convinced we didn't want him around, the sheer stupidity of making this move right there, right in the heart of the entire Eternal Alliance, would have been enough. Immediately, I drew my blaster and called for Slade to freeze, and our escort leveled their rifles. Six more Alliance members interposed themselves between the intruder and the Commander, ready to give their lives if needed to protect him. Arcann stepped forward as he ignited his lightsaber, wary of this apparent intruder.

Of course, all of that was superfluous when one of the people who had been escorting the target was a highly-motivated Sith.

I could tell Lana was furious that we had let this guy get anywhere close to the Commander. I mean, yeah, we had checked him for weapons and other 'toys' and it's almost impossible to think he could have actually harmed the Commander personally without them. But Lana didn't really care. She reached out with the Force, and next thing you know poor Slade is levitating in the air, grabbing his own throat in pain and desperation. Force-Choke is still part of Lana's repertoire, even if she's embraced the Commander's "tactical restraint" doctrine. She stepped towards him in full-on Sith mode, totally prepared to kill him on the spot. Naturally, by now, everyone's watching this exchange. Between communications staff, analysts, guards and Alliance members just passing through, there must be have been over thirty people watching this guy struggle for his life as Lana approached him. I sighed and holstered my weapon, hoping I wasn't about to have a corpse to cleanup.

Then came the very distinct sound of a throat being cleared, and all those eyes turned. It was the Commander himself. He had stepped forward and was holding up a forestalling hand to Lana. His expression to her was patient; his old Jedi training and discipline still occasionally served him well in his new role. Lana obviously knew that look. She didn't look at all happy, but she reluctantly lowered her arm, releasing Slade. The man fell to the floor, gasping for breath. Arcann and the others stood down, but were still wary.

The Commander stepped towards Slade and helped him to his feet, then he moved back and gave him a few moments to recover. He stood with his hands folded behind his back and his feet shoulder-width apart, looking every bit like the rock that the Alliance was built on.

"Mister Slade, was it?" the Commander spoke in a polite but very formal voice. "I'm sorry we won't be working together, but everyone who becomes part of the Alliance has my complete trust." He gestured around the room for effect. "And I'm afraid Lana and Theron have strongly advised against adding you to that list." There was a firmness to his statement that made it clear that this point was not open for discussion.

Slade, apparently, didn't pick up on that.

"But Commander." The little weasel was still recovering his breath, but his nerves were apparently doing fine. "There are things you don't know about these trusted advisors of yours!" he pointed wildly back at Lana.

The Commander didn't budge. He merely raised a questioning eyebrow at the man as people started tensing up, Lana among them.

"For example." His expression became rather smug as his confidence grew. "Did you know that after you fought side-by-side on Yavin, Darth Marr's first assignment for Lana Beniko as Minister of Sith Intelligence was to have her develop a series of tactics the Empire could use to 'neutralize' you specifically if you turned against them? She was planning ways to kill you!"

The entire chamber suddenly turned deathly silent.

"How dare you?!" Lana's voice cut through the room, her face taking on a murderous rage. Her eyes, which had already been glaring intently at Slade, seemed to shift into daggers.

I hadn't known about Slade's revelation, but I was hardly shocked by it. I stepped forward and gently put my hand on Lana's shoulder, just hoping I could keep her from making a bad situation worse. She shrugged the hand off, and then gave me a look that told me that if I were almost anyone else, I'd have lost the hand.

The Commander's eyes never left Slade. He simply raised a hand to forestall Lana from acting again. She just stood there, simmering. This two-bit operative had successfully gotten under her skin.

He hadn't gotten under the Commander's skin, though. The man still hadn't budged an inch at Slade's revelation. In fact, he had never looked away from Slade. Without looking, without even using the Force, I could tell he was appraising the room. Gauging the mood, and finding a solution.

"Well." The Commander's tone of voice was amiable, but the pitch of his voice allowed everyone listening to hear him clearly. "Then I'm very glad she never had the opportunity to use them."

That let a lot of the air out of the chamber. People relaxed just a little bit, some of them visibly exhaling from holding their breaths. There were even a few nervous chuckles from around the room, and Vette, our Twi'lek professional thief turned crack saboteur let out a high-pitched laugh. Lana still looked angry, but she blinked. Slade? He just stood there with his mouth open in disbelief.

Evidently, he had never put together a 'Plan B'.

The Commander finally started moving, pacing around Slade like a Nexu who was trying to decide if the bark rat it was stalking was worth the trouble.

The Commander's voice was level and calm. It was as if he were giving a lightsaber lesson in the training grounds. "But let me tell you another story, Mister Slade. I once met a wise man on Tatooine. To tell you the truth, he was kind of a strange, old hermit. But he taught me a few important things, including the difference between complete trust and absolute trust."

"Complete trust, you see, is what they call it when you trust someone so much that you would still trust them even if they were holding a dagger at your throat."

Here the Commander stopped, smiled and beamed proudly. "I have to tell you, Mr. Slade. The second-best part about my job is that I now have a literal army of people at my back, each of whom I trust completely." Here his arms spread wide, indicating everyone in the chamber. Still, his eyes never left Slade's.

And just like that, all the tension in the room just melted away. Guards stopped clenching their weapons. People swallowed and looked around at each other. A lot of people even smiled proudly. It wasn't just because of all the things the Commander had accomplished; it was because of all the things people hoped he'd achieve in the future. They believed in him. All of them. And knowing he believed in them empowered each of them to do whatever he asked of them.

"Now, absolute trust, on the other hand, is a little bit different." The Commander continued. "Absolute trust is what they call it when you'd still trust someone even after they had just slit your throat and left you to die with your life's blood spilt across the desert sand." He continued to use hand gestures to express the concept.

The former Imperial finally found his voice. "But… that's insane." Slade sputtered.

"No. That's trust." the Commander replied crisply. "And Alliances are built on trust."

He resumed his pacing around Slade. The operative looked like he was getting smaller and smaller the longer he held the Commander's attention.

"The point, Mister Slade, is that in this strange life I've led, I've met four remarkable people whom I trust absolutely." The corners of his lips turned upward for the briefest of moments. "Not counting AstroMech droids, of course." He smiled over at Tee-Seven, the old member of his crew, who rolled forward and returned his comment with a series of beeps.

The Commander turned back to Slade. "Now two of these four people… are lost to me forever." His eyes closed as he inhaled the air, and I could feel the sadness in his voice.

A full moment of silence was observed before he exhaled and his eyes suddenly came open, focused on Slade's and full of intensity.

"The remaining two are now standing at your sides."

I started at that, giving a little glance around. I realized that the two he was talking about were Lana and myself. She realized it, too. I saw her lips part just a little, and her eyes took on this glazed look. For the first time in the encounter, her complete attention was now on the Commander and not Slade.

Because Slade no longer mattered.

There was this enigmatic look the Commander occasionally took on. A look that was decidedly not 'Jedi'. A look that forced me to remember that for nearly a year, Valkorian had inhabited the Commander's mind as a 'back seat driver', and that while the old Emperor might be long gone (finally!), there were some lessons that he might have left behind about leadership, power and loyalty. The Commander's eyes were full of these lessons as he smiled intently on Slade.

"And if anyone needed any additional proof of Lana's loyalty, Mister Slade, then consider this: You are still alive."

I've never seen a man shrink like Slade did just then. There was nothing this weasel, this small fraction of a man, could ever do to even scratch the veneer of either the Commander or the Eternal Alliance. There was silence in the room again. But this time, people weren't nervous or apprehensive. This time, almost everyone seemed to be following the Commander's lead, looking upon Slade as an intruder. An enemy. Someone who had dared to even try to disrupt the Eternal Alliance, and was now being cast out.

For a second there, I thought we'd have to get Slade a new pair of pants.

"But since I'm in a good mood today, I'll let Theron be the one to escort you out." The Commander's smile became marginally kinder, but in a formal, detached way. His tone of voice was somehow intimidating without being threatening as he leaned in and spoke in Slade's ear, still loud enough to be heard. "Go and tell whatever masters you serve that the Eternal Alliance will not fall today."

Then, for almost the first time in the whole encounter, the Commander looked away from Slade, smiling over at me and giving me the nod.

Just like that, it was all over.

I hung back once Slade was restrained and firmly in the hands of our armed escort. I just didn't want to miss the post-credits scene. The Commander gave a confidant smile as he turned and addressed the troops.

"Back to work, everyone. The galaxy isn't going to save itself."

Everyone did just that, and let me tell you, it left them all with a renewed sense of confidence in the Eternal Alliance and what we stood for. Yeah, we all came from different places and had different views of how the galaxy should work. But every one of us believed the Commander was the man to make all that work, and that he'd find a way to win when it came time. Most of these people had endured years of hardship and loss, which was bad enough. Worse still was the uncertainty, particularly for the future.

Now they had something – someone - ensuring that they had a future worth fighting for.

It was only then, with relative privacy, that he turned to Lana with a smile. A different smile than one he gave to me or the troops; one that was just hers. I couldn't help myself. I used the cybernetic implant in my ear to eavesdrop on their exchange. Not a skill I often advertise, but it has its uses

(Hey, i am a spy.).

Lana immediately started to speak. I couldn't see her eyes clearly from this angle, but I didn't need to. She desperately wanted to explain herself. "Commander, I – " she began.

"Shhhh." he gently silenced her, reaching up and caressing her cheek. "I don't question your love. Don't question my trust."

Lana blushed, and if they hadn't been standing in a public area, I imagine she'd have been doing much more.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "And for the record, the time I spend with you is the best part about this job." He grinned. It made him look almost boyish. He'd accomplished more than most people would in ten lifetimes, but for all of that, he wasn't quite thirty.

"Come on." He reached down and took her hand in his. "I'll take you to dinner, and you can tell me all about these special 'tactics'." He seemed positively cheerful now, like the galaxy was finally moving in the right direction.

Lana just smiled, taking his hand and following him out.

Wow, am I right? I mean, who wouldn't walk into a Corellian hell for a man like that?

That's why I've stayed with the Alliance all this time. I'll never have a boss I admire as much as him. Or a friend.

After all, he'd given me his absolute trust.

***********************************************

After I put Slade on a shuttle headed for Nar Shadaa, I was walking out of the docking bay area when I ducked into an empty maintenance closet. I quickly unscrewed the control knob on my blaster, then I used a short length of wire from my jacket to connect it to my implant. Neither object was suspicious in and of itself, but combined they did a little bit more than you'd expect. Alliance Headquarters has security measures for this sort of thing, of course, but I designed most of them, so they wouldn't be a problem. Alone and unobserved, I spoke aloud.

"Begin transmission. Scorpion reporting. Slade was a non-starter. Next time, send an asset who's halfway competent, not to mention plausible. The Iokath Gambit remains on schedule. End transmission."

I killed the device, putting the knob back on my blaster and securing the wire between the fibers of my jacket. Then I let out a guilty sigh as I shook my head sadly.

"He's never gonna see it coming."

Hey, I did say this was all just between us, right? Our little secret?

#swtor #swtor writing #swtor fanfiction #theron shan #lana beniko #eternal alliance #i had never posted this here and thought people might like it

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madpanda75 · 5 years

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“The Honeymooners” Part of The Romantics Series

I’m back, my loves! The incredible @thatesqcrush requested the prompt: "I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one would even notice.” for my Romantics Series from this deliciously smutty list. Forgive me if my writing is a little rusty. ❤️

NSFW (a little sex on the beach, anyone? 😜😉)

“Becks, I’m going to murder you,” you growled, opening your suitcase only to discover your trusty basic black one piece bathing suit had been replaced by the tiniest white string bikini you had ever seen. In fact, with the exception of your toothbrush, you didn’t recognize any of the items in your suitcase. It quickly became apparent that your oldest friend had swapped out all of your clothes with skimpy skin-tight dresses and lingerie that would make a porn star blush. This was the first and last time you would ever ask Becks to help you pack. On the inside pocket of your suitcase there was a note:

If you want to let them know that there is steak for dinner, you gotta let them hear it sizzle. Enjoy St. Barts! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! XOXOXO Becks

You couldn’t help but snort a laugh after reading her words of wisdom. Holding the itsy bitsy swimwear up to your body, you looked yourself over in the mirror. A soft smile tugged at your lips when you spied the wedding ring on your finger.

It took twenty years to finally bring you and Rafael together. To say it was a whirlwind romance would be an understatement. A month after you reconnected at your fateful college reunion, Rafael proposed. It wasn’t too much later that a priest was pronouncing you man and wife in front of family and friends. When deciding on where to spend your honeymoon, your husband suggested St. Barts and you were all too eager to agree, wanting nothing more than to sip cocktails and lounge around in paradise with the love of your life. Of course at the time, you hadn’t envisioned doing all that dressed in two napkins and dental floss.

You let out a long sigh, trying to decide how you were going to pull this off when a knock interrupted your thoughts. “Mi amor? Everything ok in there?” Rafael asked through the door.

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Figuring that you didn’t have any other choice other than going to the beach naked, you changed into the swimsuit. Much to your surprise, the bikini didn’t look half bad on you. The white mesh top had a sun floral applique which strategically covered your nipples while the cheeky Brazilian bottom accentuated your ass. You thought you looked pretty sexy in it. Sure having your bare butt cheeks almost all out on display was stepping way out of your comfort zone, but wasn’t Becks always telling you to show off your body more and after all you were on your honeymoon. If there was ever an appropriate time for sexy revealing outfits, this would be it.

Looking yourself over one more time in the mirror, you spritzed some beach spray in your hair, put on your cover up, and left, anxious to see what Rafael’s reaction would be with your choice of swimwear.

*****

You plopped your bag down on one of the hotel lounge chairs overlooking the sandy white beach. “This is the perfect spot.”

Rafael sat down on the seat next to you and shed his shirt, glancing wistfully between you and the brilliant turquoise ocean that lay before him. “I know that I was the one talking up the beautiful St. Barts beaches but now that I’m here with you.” He reached out and pulled you down onto his lap causing you to squeal in surprise. “I’d much rather be naked, laying in bed with you and worshipping every square inch of your body,” Rafael practically growled in your ear, planting a kiss on the crook of your neck.

You whimpered, unable to resist his touch. “I promise we will but right now I want to spend an afternoon at the beach with my husband. Besides, you can still touch me,” you purred, reaching your arm back to wrap around his neck. “Why do you think I picked a spot away from all the other guests?”

“I love the way your mind works,” Rafael whispered, planting a searing hot kiss on you, teasingly tracing your lips with his tongue before reluctantly letting you go. “It is a gorgeous day though.” He laid back and relaxed, looking up at the sky, the bright sun warming his skin when he spied you taking off your coverup, revealing your sexy swimsuit. Rafael popped up out of his chair, his jaw all but dropping into the sand. “Wow,” he breathed.

“See something you like,” you replied nonchalantly with a wicked grin on your face.

“You could say that.” Rafael removed his sunglasses, drinking you in from head to toe, every drop of blood in his body pooling in his groin. “Is...is that a new swimsuit?” He stammered.

You blushed. “Yeah, Becks repacked my suitcase. What do you think, Papi?” You slowly twirled, showing off your scantily clad body.

Rafael was mesmerized. He shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom that this seductive temptress standing before him was his wife. “I think I should send Becks a thank you card.”

“I’m happy you approve.” You reached into your bag and pulled out the sunscreen, handing it over to Rafael. “You know, counselor. I think I need some help with my sunscreen. I just can’t get to those hard to reach places.” You pouted, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes.

“I think I can lend a hand,” Rafael replied with a smirk, motioning to the chair for you to lay down. You happily obliged, rolling over on your stomach, exposing your cheeky backside.

Rafael softly groaned at the sight. He squirted some lotion onto your back and began massaging it in. Now it was your turn to groan, feeling him work out knots you didn’t even know you had. You were literally putty in his hands. “Mmmm, did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got magic fingers.”

Before Rafael could respond, the cabana waiter approached you both. “Good afternoon, can I get you two something to drink?”

You turned towards the young man and smiled. “Can I get a glass of scotch with a teeny umbrella in it?”

Rafael snorted a laugh at your frilly accoutrement. “I’ll also have a scotch, minus the umbrella.”

Once the waiter left to get your drinks, Rafael continued to massage you, his big hands moving to caress the backs of your thighs, slowly inching towards your center. “You’re so sexy. Do you have any idea how bad I want you right now?” He said in a husky voice. “I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one would even notice.”

You softly moaned in response, feeling his index finger brush up against your slit, already you were beginning to get wet. Tilting your head up, you captured his lips with yours, turning your body around and pulling him down on top of you. Rafael growled against your mouth, his tongue brushing up against yours, deepening the kiss. It was out of character for both of you to be this blatant about PDA, especially in broad daylight in front of random strangers. Perhaps it was the gorgeous beach setting or maybe it was the new alluring swimsuit. Whatever the reason, neither of you could keep your hands off each other and you didn’t care who saw.

Just when you were about to kick it up to an R-rated lip lock, the waiter came back with your order, clearing his throat to get your attention. Rafael sat up, covering himself with a towel to hide his growing erection. “Thank you,” he grumbled, not appreciating the interruption. Taking both drinks, he handed over yours.

The waiter stood there, his eyes glued to your chest while you happily sipped on your drink. “Will...will...you be needing anything else?” He asked.

“Nothing comes to mind,” Rafael curtly replied, blocking you from the waiter’s prying eyes. “You can charge the drinks to the honeymoon villa. The name is under Barba. Mr. and Mrs. Barba,” he emphasized, protectively winding an arm around your neck.

“Yes, sir.” The waiter blushed from being caught ogling you and quickly scampered away.

“Babe, behave,” you playfully scolded.

“That guy was practically leering at you.” Rafael glanced between you and where the waiter had run off to.

You shrugged and adjusted your bikini top in case of a potential nip slip. “Well to be fair, I’m practically naked. Besides, you know there's no one I would rather be with than you,” you softly said, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re my world, Mr. Barba.”

“And you’re mine, Mrs. Barba.” He cupped your face and kissed you soft and sweet.

You rested your forehead against his, letting out a contented sigh before getting a mischievous glint in your eye. “Race you to the water!” You jumped up and ran to the beach, splashing in the surf.

Rafael ran after you, grabbing you by the waist and twirling you around. The sound of your laughter took him back twenty years, making him feel like a teenager in love all over again.

*****

Your eyes fluttered open, a cool breeze whipping across your tanned skin. You stretched your limbs, feeling relaxed and rested from your nap after spending a glorious afternoon with your husband. The sun was just beginning to set. With the exception of a few beach stragglers, everyone had gone, leaving you both alone.

Glancing next to you was Rafael, still fast asleep in his lounge chair, the book he had been reading lay abandoned on his chest. You couldn’t help but stare, taking in the slight definition of his arms, his soft belly, all the way down to his muscular calves. He was bronzed by the sun and absolutely beautiful, strong yet so cuddly. The perfect man. Your perfect man. You almost had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

Sliding off your chair, you moved to straddle him, gently leaving a trail of soft open-mouthed kisses on his neck, while your fingers ran through the smattering of hair across his chest. You inhaled deeply, the fresh earthy smell of the beach combined with a scent that was uniquely him drove you mad with lust. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” you whispered in his ear, playfully biting down on his lobe.

Rafael stirred and opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. “Hi,” he said, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Hi,” you smiled back and nuzzled your nose against his.

He sat up and stared at you, gently running his hands over your body. The sunset almost made it look like you were glowing, brilliant hues of yellow, orange, and red streaked your skin. Your hair wild and wavy. You were like a goddess and Rafael was all too willing to worship at your feet.

Moving his hands to the back of your neck, he pulled you down for a passion-fueled kiss, his tongue parting your lips, caressing your own. You sighed against his mouth, matching his intensity as you kissed him back.

Threading his fingers in your hair, Rafael tugged your head to the side, exposing your neck, painting your skin with his tongue, You tasted sweet and salty, the ocean still clinging to your body. With his free hand, he exposed one of your breasts. His mouth hovered over it, tracing your nipple with his tongue before sucking on the hardened bud. “Oh, Rafael,” you gasped, arching into his touch.

He pulled your bikini bottoms to the side, trailing a single digit against your slit. “Wanna finish what we started earlier?” He purred, slowly circling your clit.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered.

Rafael teased your entrance, smirking while you squirmed against him before sliding a finger inside your dripping sex. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You have the hottest pussy, mi amor.”

You moaned, feeling Rafael stroke your walls. Adding a second finger, he thrusted them in and out of your sheath, rubbing your clit with his thumb. You squeezed your eyes shut, your head rolling forward, already being pulled to the edge.

Rafael lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His sea-foam green eyes were practically black. “Look at me,” he growled. “I wanna watch you come for me.” You nodded your head, struggling to keep your focus on him. Rafael began to move faster, crooking his fingers every time he plunged inside you. He was transfixed, watching you fall apart from his hand, your face completely wrecked.

You grabbed his left hand and brought his ring finger up to your mouth, your tongue sliding over the cool metal of his wedding band, your eyes never leaving his. One final crook had you shuddering and moaning around his digit.

“That’s it, baby girl. Come hard for me.” Rafael felt a surge of wetness around his fingers, stroking you through your release. Your body fell slack against him, your breathing labored as you pulled his ring finger out of your mouth. He slowly removed his fingers from you and slid his digits across your lips, glossing them with your essence. You stared at him with hooded lust-filled eyes, licking your lips, your taste flooding your mouth.

Rafael groaned at the sight. “Eres tan sabroso,” he whispered, sucking the rest of your juices off his hand. He kissed you hard, your tongues battling for dominance. His erection pressed between your bodies.

You freed his hard hot cock and dragged your wet folds against his length, whining when you felt his crown brush up against your swollen clit, his precum mixing with the remnants of your orgasm. Aligning his member with your sheath, you sank down on him, both of you groaning when your hips made contact.

After a moment, you lifted off him until just the tip remained before impaling yourself on him again. His thrusts were slow and deep. Your slick muscles gripping him tight, giving you the fullness you craved. Rafael tugged you down for a kiss, both of you moaning and grunting with effort into each other’s mouths, your breaths mingling, desperate to be as close as humanly possible. You were each other’s soulmates. Each other’s everything. You pulled back, watching how his face contorted in pleasure matching the expression on your own face.

“I love you,” you breathed, kissing any part of him you could reach.

“I love you too,” he replied in a strained voice.

Having had enough of the exquisite torture of long languid strokes, he grabbed your ass, urging you to ride him more insistently. You bounced up and down on his cock, his fingertips digging into your flesh as he guided you down on him. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore drowned out your collective moans.

“Raf, I’m so close. Come with me. I wanna feel you come inside me. Please,” you begged, grinding down on him harder.

He shuddered, feeling your walls begin their tell-tale dance against his shaft. Planting a foot on the sand, he bucked up into your sheath, driving into you over and over again. “Raf….Raf...I...I,” you sobbed, mumbling incoherently. The love you felt for Rafael combined with the ecstasy you were experiencing washed over you, consumed you. Your body about to explode.

Rafael held you tight, your bodies pressed together, rocking against one another. “I’m here. I’m right here. I have you,” he panted. You both came simultaneously, biting into each other’s shoulders, muffling your mingled rapturous cries. You lost track of how long you stayed wrapped around each other, your chests heaving from exertion, sweat dripping off your bodies.

“What a way to start our honeymoon,” you said after a while, tracing the bite mark on his shoulder.

“What a way to start our life together.” Rafael smiled and ran his fingers across a similar bite mark he had left on you. The marks you made on each other were almost primal, a way of claiming the other person as if to tell the world you were his and he was yours. “So are there anymore surprises I should know about?” Rafael asked, teasingly snapping your bikini strap.

You giggled. “I may have a few more pieces tucked away in my bag that I’ll model for you later on tonight. But right now, can you just hold me?”

“Always,” he replied, kissing the top of your head. You nestled against his chest, placing your hand over the spot where his heart lay. Rafael held you close, running his fingers up and down your spine. Knowing that he got to spend the rest of his life with you in his arms made him feel like the luckiest man alive. You both laid there watching the sun sink below the horizon, neither of you ready to let that perfect moment go.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @raulmonamour @tropes-and-tales @thecraziestcrayon @dreila03 @melsquared79

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you-guys--are-losers · 5 years

Note

Can you write a fic where Peter tries to keep his relationship with MJ a secret but the other Avengers do some spying and try to figure out who she is?

//Okay, so I LOVE the originality of this prompt! I also, for my 900 followers request, got this prompt request from @melodytheravenclaw:

20 (meet the family) Spideychelle I would find it hilarious for MJ to meet the Avengers family :)

I think the two will tie nicely together, and I can’t wait to show this to you! can’t wait to give this to you guys. :) Hope you like it!

A Joint Effort

Summary: When Sam, Clint, and Bucky catch Peter flirting with a mysterious contact over text, they make it their personal mission to figure out who it is– and they are more than willing to drag the rest of the Avengers into the mix.

Warnings: Language, Endgame Spoilers, Secondhand Embarrassment

Word Count:

Characters: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones

Several months following the Final Battle, the compound is rebuilt

Slowly, but surely, the remaining Avengers begin to take up residence in the rooms again

Maybe it’s a bit strange to return to the place where so much was lost, but there’s something poetic about taking up residence with the others who won and lost so much that day

And almost anything is better than returning to empty apartments where the quiet is much too loud

Among others, Bucky returns to stay at the compound, as well as Sam, Wanda, and Bruce

Some of the others keep rooms in the compound and visit regularly, despite the fact that they have other lodgings because it’s important to remain in contact and the community can be nice

One of the members of this category is Peter Parker

At first, no one is quite sure what to make of the lanky teen hanging around the compound

Half the time the kid is making obscure references that no one understands

And the other half he is taking shortcuts across the compound by walking on the walls with his school supplies sticking to him as he looks for somewhere comfortable to study for his exams

But the rest of the Avengers have an unspoken agreement to give the kid the same treatment as the rest of them

After all, he is an Avenger

And they all remember the look on his face when he had to let go of his mentor’s nearly lifeless body

So they all get used to Peter Parker’s frequent visits and the enthusiasm with which he approaches the chance to respond to any little disturbance

And soon, Peter is just as much a part of the compound as the excessive number of glass panes

However, there is one unintended side effect to the Avengers becoming accustomed to Peter’s presence

Because now that they are more comfortable with Peter

They are more at ease with screwing with him

It starts one morning in the kitchen while Clint is visiting the compound

It’s 12 ‘o clock on a Saturday, and Peter is eating lunch at the kitchen counter when Sam, Bucky, and Clint barge in for breakfast

Really Bucky just starts on breakfast for the other two, since it was a late night and he can hold his liquor a lot better than the other two

Clint and Sam are seated at bar stools by the island while Peter leans against the countertop, spooning Cocoa Puffs into his mouth with one hand while he scrolls through his phone with the other

It is while he is doing this that Sam catches a glimpse of Peter’s phone screen

“Who are you texting, kid?”

Peter glances up from his phone, nearly dropping his spoon into his cereal when he finds all three of the mildly-hungover Avengers staring at him with interest

“Oh, um, nobody, I just-”

“Nobody, really?” Clint presses, a little grin sliding onto his face

“A red heart and a spider emoji? That doesn’t look like nobody,” Sam replies, leaning over to glance at Peter’s phone again

Peter quickly powers his phone down, swallowing as he scoops up his bowl of chocolatey milk, saying, “I’m just gonna, um…”

And then Peter’s gone, leaving an empty spot at the kitchen island and three Avengers who are determined to figure out who Peter Parker is seeing

They bring it up again later that night, when the kid has headed back home to Queens, and it is in the compound’s kitchen that they decide they are going to have to join forces

Wanda, who shares a wall with Peter, agrees to join in in order to figure out who Peter is talking to at three in the morning every night

And T’challa, who is passing through on a diplomatic mission, joins in because when he brings it up to Shuri over text, she gets way too smug about it and refuses to explain

Bruce is initially opposed to the idea, because “The kid needs his privacy,” but he caves when they suggest that maybe this is the reason the Wi-Fi has been so slow lately

So, once they’ve got their team together, the game begins

Bruce makes the mistake of contacting Ned, relying on their joint star power as a sufficient motive for Peter’s best friend to spill the beans

And it’s true, Ned does freak out, communicating largely through keyboardsmashes for a good stretch

But he also immediately contacts Peter, relaying Bruce’s question: “Do you know who Peter’s been texting lately? We know it’s not you, but we can’t figure out who.”

And as soon as Peter knows, he suits up for battle

His phone is never out anymore, not even when he’s lounging around the compound

It’s always shoved down in his pocket, safely adhered there by a little bit of webbing

It’s not like Sam discovered this when he attempted to snatch the phone from his pocket and nearly pantsed the kid

Because that would be ridiculous conduct for a United States Air Force Vet

The kid doesn’t even open it in front of them anymore, and he answers any questions they ask him with one word before vanishing into his room in the compound again

After a week or so of this, the Avengers decide that it’s time to change their strategy

Thanks to Wanda, they know that Peter has been spending his nights staying up into ungodly hours of the morning

So now, it’s just a matter of catching Peter at the right moment

Though Clint and T’challa have other homes to return to, Wanda, Sam, and Bruce are able to split up the duty of finding increasingly more desperate reasons to enter Peter’s room

The first few times, they find Peter hurriedly making himself appear busy, either by faking sleep with a glowing square under his blanket or by grabbing the nearest item to him

Once or twice, when they enter the room they find Peter hurriedly trying to look invested in an upside-down textbook

The effort goes on for a week and a half or so

It comes to a screeching halt, however, after a failed attempt

Sam and Bruce hear Peter making noise and can see light coming under the door, but when they open it, what they really find is Peter crying while watching Moulin Rouge

Never wanting to witness such a sight again, it is decided that it will be necessary to attempt yet another change in strategy

This time, the Avengers defer to Bruce

His argument is that he, as one of the kid’s scientific idols, is probably best-equipped to get it out of him using a softer approach

So, with their end goal in mind, the others wait in the living room as Bruce enters the kitchen, where the kid is getting another cup of juice

Is a softer strategy necessary? Maybe. Is there such thing as too soft? Definitely

Because, instead of getting the identity of “Red Heart Spider Emoji,” Bruce somehow manages to initiate a conversation about Peter’s growing body and the different needs he might be experiencing at this time

As amusing as the stammering of the mortified kid might be in any other situation, the listening Clint, T’Challa, Wanda, and Sam are all painfully aware of the failure of this attempt to get a name out of Peter

And when the kid leaves the room clearly wishing the ground would swallow them up, everyone seems to be in agreement that maybe, sometimes, not every mission has to be a success

So, after the final attempt, the Avengers put the matter to rest

Little do they know, however, how close their attempts are to coming to fruition

Not even three weeks later, a new mission has come in for the heroes, and they are ready to take off

The Avengers will be heading to Wakanda in order to examine and neutralize a perceived threat to the production of Wakandan vibranium, which not only would cause economic panic but also could potentially provide dangerous technology to enemies over the interplanetary black market

The mission is going to be long, and depending on how innovative their enemies are with the new material, it could likely be dangerous

Luckily it’s during the summer, so the kid at least won’t be missing out on class, but Peter’s skill set has proven integral to the team before, so he’s coming with

It’s early afternoon, and they’re about ready to load out. There’s a Wakandan helicopter at the compound that is ready to take them, and the team begins the walk across the pad to the chopper, the whirring blades of which create a deafening noise across the green

She arrives so quickly that at first, they don’t see her

However, as they approach their transportation, Bruce holds out a hand where he is leading them from the front of the group, gesturing to a figure that is hurtling towards them across the lawn

The team takes up a defensive stance out of habit, but it is almost immediately proven to be unnecessary

Because, as it gets closer, the blur moving towards them across the compound reveals itself to be a girl, tall and skinny as she jogs across the grass in her combat boots

The winds created by the chopper send her dark, curly hair flying wildly around her face as she approaches, teasing it into a mess that only further increases her hurried, disheveled appearance

Though they relax, the Avengers do not completely abandon their defensive positions

Except for Peter

The youngest Avenger straightens to his full height with a widening of his mechanical eyes, hands instinctively moving to straighten the Iron Spider Suit that is practically plastered to his body

Once he realized the folly of his attempt, Peter steps forward, pulling the mask off of his face as he does so

The rest of the Avengers exchange wary glances, at least until the girl draws to a stop in front of them

Now, they can get a good look at her, and things begin to make a bit more sense

The rest of the Avengers watch as the girl runs a hand through her wild curls, brushing them away from her face

Though she stands tall and her face is composed, the slight widening of her eyes and the breathless nature of her appearance makes her look even more nervous than any of them

“MJ?” Peter blurts, his own eyes wide and confused

He scans her appearance with obvious concern, but his eyes come to rest on her own deep brown irises as he poses the question in all of their minds

“Why are you here?”

MJ doesn’t appear to be the least bit fazed by the question, but she is still tense as she answers

“You didn’t say goodbye, asshole,” she pants, clearly winded from her run

Her eyes travel to the other Avengers for a moment, and she offers them a tight nod before looking back at Peter, not even a little put-off by the massive, hulking heroes who are all eyeing her

“Oh,” Peter replies, dumbstruck, not looking away from her

For a moment, the tension continues, and no one says a word

The newcomer, however, appears more nervous than ever, and her following actions betray why

“You know what, Parker? Screw it,” she decides, striding even closer to Peter

She approaches with all the bravado of a soldier, walking with purpose until their chests are practically touching and Peter steels himself for a blow

Sam and Bucky watch with interest, not daring to blink in case they miss the moment she decks him

The punch doesn’t come, however

Because instead, MJ reaches down, takes his jaw in her hands, closes her eyes, and brings her lips crashing into Peter’s own

The boy’s eyes widen as she does so, but they almost immediately flutter shut the way hers have

After an initial stiffening, Peter relaxes into the kiss, and the rest of the Avengers stare on in utter shock as the two share a moment, hair and clothing blowing in the wind created by the chopper blades

When MJ finally lets go, her eyes open immediately

They are wide, but they shine as they look down at the boy whose cheeks are cupped in her hands, one of which rises to brush his cheekbone before she lets him go

And then, as Peter stares at her, she speaks a simple command:

“Come back to me.”

Before he can say another word, MJ has turned around, and she returns the way she came with a renewed energy in her gait

For a few moments, the team watches her walk away, hopping the fence so that she is a safe distance from the helicopter

No one says anything as Peter turns to watch her leave, then turns back with a broad grin on his face before he pulls the mask over it

Sam is the one who breaks the silence:

“So that’s Ms. Red Heart, Spider Girl.”

Even through the mask, the mechanical eyes seem to glow as Peter says, “Maybe she is.”

Without another word, Peter turns to climb onto the chopper, but Sam shouts, “Hey!” to stop him

One the kid has turned around, he is greeted with varying degrees of pleasure on the faces that stare back at him

Wanda is trying and failing to hide a little smirk, Bruce is beaming, Clint offers the kid a lopsided grin, and Bucky spares one nod with gleaming eyes

It’s Sam, though, who really smiles

“Don’t mess it up with that one, kid. We like her.”

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nadziejastar · 4 years

Link

OMG, thank you so much for sending this! And thank you to the person who translated it! This story proves to me that Lea and Isa were just too gay for the mainstream Kingdom Hearts series. Seriously.

We thought we could save that girl. I don’t know why we felt that way.

The little story is very nice. It’s about as good as it can possibly be given the shitty source material that is KH3. I thought it was hilarious how Isa has pretty much nothing to say about Subject X. Oh yeah, she sounds so important to him here, doesn’t she? Isa sacrificed everything for her, lol. Maybe you just wanted to help her, Isa, because you had a good heart. Ever think of that?

But for real, what a crock of shit that whole idea is. Skuld was just shoehorned into their story because Axel and Saïx were too gay otherwise. That’s all it its. Just blatant homophobia, and I’m disappointed in Square and Disney for it. It’s okay to shiptease popular same-sex couples, but as soon as there’s an actual same-sex couple, they go out of their way to fuck it up like this. Pathetic.

Yes, I thought that I didn’t need you with me anymore.

So, yeah, Isa doesn’t give a shit about Skuld. They can’t even force him to seem like he cares. On the other hand, Isa sure had TONS to say about Lea in this story. I’m not surprised that there’s all this subtext hinting that Isa really loved Lea. That’s my favorite part about this story. It’s just so gay. Isa said his life had no meaning if Lea didn’t need him. Lea was his purpose.

“Kairi…? Oh, I expect she’s catching up with her friend from the darkness,” he said as if it were nothing of much concern.

“What’s that mean?!” Sora demanded.

“She doesn’t need you anymore.” Saïx smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

It just makes me even more pissed off over how badly KH3 ruined Isa. There was so much wasted potential with the LeaIsa relationship. IMO, it’s still the most complicated and interesting relationship in the series. At least before KH3, anyway.

Ultimately, what is a heart?

What are friends?

Is there any meaning to making connections with your heart?

I’m not blaming the writer of this story or anything. They did the best they could with the cruddy source material. But I gotta be honest, this story still sounds like it’s written from Saïx’s point of view, not Isa’s. He just sounds so…robotic? If that makes sense. Like, he still doesn’t sound fully human here, if you ask me.

It was just that if he went back and reported that he couldn’t find anything, he would have to deal with those attempts at “personality”—the sneers, the snide remarks, the only trappings of human emotion that Saïx ever showed. Not that Saïx was even capable of annoyance or disappointment, of course, what with the lack of a heart and all.

Saïx was very, very cold and unfeeling. He couldn’t understand friendship or what it meant to have a heart.

In a way, Saïx put more effort than any of them into pretending he had a heart, Axel thought. And yet, he was more lacking than any of them.

He was the most Nobody-like organization member. There was a distinct lack of humanity with his personality. He didn’t even want to be that way. He desperately wanted a heart so he could feel like a normal human again. He was a tragic character. A victim. But…there was clearly something very, very wrong with him. He was NOT normal. And this never gets addressed. It really bothers me.

“I know I won’t forget you. Believe me, I try all the time,” Isa replied with a bit of humor in his tone.

“See? I’m immortal!”

“You’re obnoxious.”

I gotta say, I don’t like how Isa is now being written like Saïx, as if that was just his natural personality. In BBS, Isa actually seemed VERY sensitive. He simply seemed reticent with his feelings. He seemed like he had very strong affection for Lea, but was too shy to express this outwardly. So he teased Lea all the time.

Lea seemed to understand that Isa’s teasing was simply his way of showing affection, so he enjoyed their banter. A lot. Although Isa was shy, he still gave me the impression that he was a totally normal kid, like Lea. He had a good sense of humor and acted playful. He didn’t seem to be so…stiff or unable to understand emotions like he does in this story.

Talking to Roxas and Xion always brings back memories of my human life, back when I was a kid. It’s a weird sensation. I ought to be able to share all this with Saïx, but I just don’t feel like it anymore. It’s strange, but I’m content with just missing what’s gone. I’m not the one who changed. You did.

Lea was a normal human kid. Axel was a normal Nobody. Isa was a normal kid. Saïx was NOT a normal Nobody. So why would Isa be so different from Lea? IMO, there’s no good explanation for why Isa changed from a normal shy kid in BBS to what he became as a Nobody. This…unfeeling blob of a man. At least a backstory as a human test subject would make his personality understandable.

“Say something. Have you even thought that maybe I can’t erase Roxas?” Axel said, in a playful tone, and Saix finally looked up.

“It’ll be all right. ‘Cause I’m tough.” Axel puffed out his chest.

“How stupid,” said Saix, and for a moment he smiled.

It feels like KH3 had to sugarcoat Saïx a lot, in order to portray him more sympathetically. Saïx had a few moments where he showed genuine emotion and love for Axel (feelings that I don’t even think were his). He acted shy in this scene, for instance. He acted more Like Isa here. But generally, it was very, VERY hard to get anything out of him, no matter how hard Axel tried to connect with him.

After a while I became selfish, and turned into a foolish person.

I cannot say enough how much I loathe how KH3 handled Saïx. He was deprived of all the complexity and sympathy he could have had if he had been an abuse victim and human test subject. And at the same time, they also had to try and whitewash his character in order to redeem him. KH3 writes Saïx as just this normal guy who is a bit bad with expressing his feelings and as a result, acted selfish when he lost his heart. His personality as a Nobody was just an extension of his personality as a human.

Saïx: He won nothing and is nothing. He couldn’t stand the emptiness of being without a heart, and that led to his demise. He was foolish and weak.

But that’s just not true. Saïx wasn’t just a bit brusque. He was a monster. His moniker was “Demoniac Dancing in the Moon”. He was demonic. There’s no need to downplay this. He was not just this tsundere guy who just needed to apologize for being a bit douchey. He was savage and acted downright evil much of the time. Being bad with emotions doesn’t even begin to describe him. Nor does it explain why he acted the way he did, especially with Axel.

Saïx: All I did was find a place to send everyone who was getting in the way.

Axel: Well, it’s nice to know where I stand! Sheesh…

Saïx: Did you come back in one piece or didn’t you?

For instance, it’s never explained WHY Saïx pushed Axel away in the first place. In KH3, they’d have you believe that all the problems started when he became jealous of Axel’s closeness with Roxas and Xion. But that’s obviously not true. Saïx was messed up long before Axel got close to them. And the only reason Axel spent all his time with them was because Saïx had already changed and pushed him away constantly. There’s no explanation given for why Saïx acted so cold with Axel all the time. None.

In canon, Saïx’s personality just makes NO SENSE. Why did he abuse Axel if he felt like Axel gave his life meaning? It wasn’t just because he had no heart, because Axel didn’t have one, other. And if they both loved each other, they should have been able to grow hearts rather easily, anyways. So why did Saïx have such a black hole for a heart? In KH3, they’d have you believe that that’s just how he was. It was just his flawed personality and possibly him being upset that Axel wasn’t as obsessed with finding Subject X as he was. Not because his heart was swallowed by Xehanort’s after he was a human test subject.

Yes, I thought you didn��t need me anymore. If you didn’t need me, then I no longer held meaning. That’s why I sacrificed myself to that man.

He said he sacrificed himself to Xehanort because Axel didn’t need him anymore. But what I wanna know is, why he thought that! Axel never pushed Saïx away. Ever! He tried and tried and tried to get close to him. But Saïx always pushed Axel away. I hate how KH3 almost makes it seem like Saïx was justified to feel abandoned by Axel and hate him. I think that’s totally unfair to Axel. He did everything he could for Saïx. Axel almost killed Roxas and Xion for Saïx’s sake. And Saïx was never grateful to him or anything.

You’re ultimately still a crybaby, but you don’t need the marks anymore.

Saïx’s personality in KH3 just feels so random to me. In canon, there’s just no depth or substance to him as a character. He’s just this weird guy who is really bad with his emotions. I swear, there was so much more going on with him that was left on the cutting room floor. Like, why does he call Lea a crybaby? What is that all about? I have my theories, but still. Nothing about Axel and Saïx’s canon backstory made any sense. It pisses me off so much.

#akusai #leaisa #anti-kh3 #submission

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pollylynn · 4 years

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Title: Correspondent WC: 1300

For someone so quick to abandon his post beside her desk in favor of an all-boys jaunt to Atlantic City, he sure seems to miss New York. They can’t even be out of Manhattan—hell she’s not even sure they can be out of the parking garage—when the first text comes through.

Called shotgun, fair and square. Ryan sulking.

He provides visual evidence, a surreptitious over-the-shoulder shot of Ryan looking far from his usually cheerful self in the middle of the back seat. She laughs, even though she’s kind of annoyed with him. She’s kind of annoyed with the way Gates, for absolutely no good reason, has engineered this one-on-one quality time for the two of them, and the Captain herself manages to catch her doing something in between smiling and frowning down at her phone.

“Anything, Detective?” She says pointedly from the doorway to her office.

“Nothing yet, Sir,” Kate pockets the phone and throws herself into the paperwork she’s gathered on the Queens property.

The phone buzzes with impressive regularity. She limits herself to a glance every fifteen minutes or so, and tells herself it’s to affirm that there’s nothing actually case related that’s gotten caught up in his stream of consciousness.

She wades through seven different texts about Ryan’s best man tragedy. In the space of another fourteen texts, he provides what is probably not a final tally of the number of times the boys have told one another, in no uncertain terms, that this sucks, as well as a large number of choice details from the would-have-been bachelor party he and Esposito would have thrown. Pyrotechnics are at least as prominent a feature as alcohol, nudity, and poor life choices.

I’m working, you know, she finally raps out.

So are we, he shoots back immediately. Thirty seconds later, there’s a motion sickness–inducing video with the radio turned up loud. Sound blasts from her phone and she almost destroys it with a paper weight for fear that it’ll draw Gates from her lair, but the Captain is engrossed with something on her computer and the door is shut tight. She braces the phone on her lap and thumbs the volume way down before she hits play again and is greeted by Ryan and Esposito harmonizing in falsetto. It ends with a close-up of Castle’s face as he shakes his head in disbelief.

It’s Velazquez who catches her this time, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She’s got a sheet full of places Ralph Marino isn’t and not much else. She gives Kate a grin that says she most definitely saw Castle’s giant, goofy face on the screen, and that’s quite enough of that. The phone goes into a desk drawer and she pretends she can’t feel it buzzing through the chipped laminate top.

She turns her full attention to a bunch of rather useless information. Or, rather, she would turn her full attention to it if it weren’t for the fact that there’s something wrong with the elevator doors. There’s this completely aggravating squeeeeaaal every time they try to close. She pictures him plastered against the silver, prying them open to shoulder his way in with the boys, and decides that it’s definitely time for a break to tell him that he’s in absolutely enormous trouble once Gates finally notices.

But there’s a text from Ryan about Marino’s cousin, and an actually useful text from him about Sam’s tendency to ask other men’s girlfriends to “blow on his dice,” notably and recently Marino’s girlfriend. With a potential motive and a lead in her back pocket, she feels more kindly disposed to her wayward boys, especially as the blow-by-blow text barrage tapers off into occasional bursts as he gets excited about the casino’s facial recognition software, and all the plot potential of constant and total surveillance.

He, of course, has to shared about the masseuse being absolutely sure that Sams hands were definitely occupied at the time of the money transfer that she uncovered, thank you very much. He sends a picture of the three of them huddled up doing Home Alone faces with that and she’s back to hating them all a little bit.

He goes radio silent once they get themselves turfed from the casino. They all go radio silent, and the sudden absence of the regular buzz is unnerving as she speeds along as fast as she dares. Given the number of dangerous individuals they’re potentially running afoul of, unnerved gives way to alarm, gives way to utter disbelief as she pulls up to the scene in front of the Sapphire—Ryan and Esposito, dazzling in white sequins, ultimately framing him, resplendent in black, with a Sunkist-orange scarf tossed jauntily around his neck.

He gives it to her, that eye-searing scarf, when they’ve solved their case, save for the confession she’ll secure in the morning, provided her poking around yields what she thinks it will. She’s given the three of them a taste of the crap that their costumed hijinks have them in for when they’re back at work.

She’s made them squirm a minute, then cracks a smile and tells them to take the day for Ryan’s bachelor party. The groom-to-be and Esposito dash off to get Nadine’s recommendations like two kids who’ve just been given two rolls of quarters to blow, unsupervised, at the arcade. That leaves the two of them standing in the Sapphire’s lobby, staring at their respective shoes.

“You’re not staying?” He can’t seem to help asking, even though it seems like the question confuses him as much as it does her.

“For pyrotechnics and nudity?” She laughs. “No, Castle.”

“Right. No.” He looks up at her. “It would be weird, right?” He frowns like he’s working through some particularly difficult math. “It would be weird.”

“Definitely weird.” she agrees. That about covers it, and she should be hitting the road. She’s not hitting the road.

“Ooh.” He brightens. “You could go to Alexis’s party. I hear it’s turned into a rager.” It’s her turn to frown as she tries to work out the math. “Doorman gave me the heads up. He’s known her since she was, like, seven. He’ll keep an eye out.”

“No parties for me.” She shakes her head. “Gotta put a bow on the case.” She allows herself a glare. “You know, without my team. Because they’ll be here, partying.”

“A bow!” He gets a sudden idea. He swings the garment bag he’s had slung over his shoulder around to the front of his body. He struggles with the zipper, then produces the scarf with a flourish. “You should have this.” He steps close and tries to drape it around her neck. She bats it away, laughing. “A party favor.”

“You want to do me a favor?” She wards off the scarf. “No texts, no pictures. None.”

He gives her a long look, like the idea pains him. He dangles the scarf and she gives in. She snatches it from him and lets it wind around her arm a few times.

“None,” he agrees.

He’s as good as his word, for a little while at least. She’s most of the way back to Manhattan before she pulls off for a coffee and a stretch. With perfect timing, the phone buzzes. She glances at the screen to see Ryan smiling dopily into some kind of lilac martini. He looks like he’s half asleep already. The phone buzzes again and there’s a shot of Esposito clearly embroiled in a passionate conversation with the guy to his right. One final buzz and it’s a picture of him, rolling his eyes, shaking his head, and the text below: Wish you were here.

A/N: Beckett’s pretty preoccupied with her phone. Hmmm. This’ll be the last story for a while. Need a pause.

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 4 #Castle; Heartbreak Hotel #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Kevin Ryan #Javier Esposito #Victoria Gates #Alexis Castle #fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Hmmm

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downspiral-dreamer · 4 years

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an excerpt from METANOIA; it may or may not be included, as it is part of the timeline a year or two before the actual happenings of the novel.

~ * ~

Flynn drew in a deep breath, standing outside of his room on the roof, lit by nothing but the full moon and the faint glow of a streetlight beyond the front yard fence. He only hesitated a moment before walking to the edge of the roof and stepped off.

The landing was cushioned by the trampoline below, where he had moved it the other day, still unnoticed by his parents. He bounced high, then landed square on his feet when he came down again, waiting only long enough for his balance to steady before he jumped off and into the grass, running to the front gate and pushing it open. It clunked shut behind him as he sprinted across the road without looking both ways, cutting through a few yards until he reached the main road. A dog barked at him from someone’s porch; he ignored them, hopping the yard’s fence long before it caught him - if it were trying at all.

Chest burning, Flynn finally slowed, wandering down the sidewalk in town. The convenience store glowed up ahead, only one car parked across from the gas pumps. Probably the attendant inside. He walked past it, mind set on something a little stronger than he could find there, at a gas station store.

The town seemed dead. Crickets chirped and frogs croaked from the shadows beyond the streetlights, and that was all. No cars coasted past, no other human walked down the street. When Flynn approached the local market, he almost expected it to be as empty, but a handful of cars lingered in the lot, both of employees and of late night shoppers, grabbing their last items before the store closed.

He went inside, walking with purpose, as a man who knew what he needed. He brought a bag of chips to the self checkout, scanning it through and paying for it. He left the market, bag of chips under his arm, and shoplifted bottle of rum tucked inside the inner pocket sewn inside his jacket.

His walk continued, taking him through the frame of a house, still under construction but abandoned for the night. He paused to take a breath, and to take a few swigs of the rum. It burned down his throat and he squinted his eyes at the sensation for a few moments before taking another sip.

His footsteps echoed against the walls of the unfinished house as he exited it a few minutes later, bag of chips aimlessly held in one hand, the bottle dangling from his other. This was the quieter part of town, away from houses and businesses and any potentially lurking cops. Here, there was simply a vast empty lot upon which houses or apartments would be built soon, along the edge of which grew a tall and dark forest.

Part of him almost left his path, to venture into the woods and never return. Whether to die or to become a hermit, after tonight’s events, he didn’t much care. But he didn’t, instead continuing to wander like a blue haired ghost through the desolate streets, passing only a few houses before he reached the lake.

It was closed, a gate attempting to bar people from entering afterhours. Flynn ignored it entirely, climbing over the gate and breaking into a run again, heart thundering in his chest, thoughts a whirlwind in his head, stopping only after he reached the playground. It sat on a hill, overlooking the dark, churning waters of the lake. In the morning, when the sun rose, it would look far more welcoming. Flynn planned to be long gone from there before that happened.

Settling finally, into a swing, he tore open the bag of chips and listlessly ate a few before setting it down, deciding instead on another drink. He lost track of time, swinging slowly, staring at the water, staring at his hands, staring at the ground.

Hurried footsteps tore him from the hold his mind had on him, and he twisted around in the swing, half falling and half jumping out of it, ready to run or fight, whichever seemed most helpful.

Once he saw who jogged up to him, he relaxed. “Don’t fucking do that. You scared the shit outta me.”

Teagan rolled her eyes. “How do you think I feel, you fuck? One minute you’re panicked and sending message after message about how you want to die, about something awful happening, and you ignore my phone calls, and then you just go silent?” Her accusatory tone grew a bit gentler. “Look, c’mon. Talk to me, Flynn.”

Flynn sighed, kicking at the wood chips that made up the ground of the play area. “He dumped me, T, what do you think.”

A moment of silence fell. “Bentley broke up with you?” She spoke quietly, moving a bit closer. “I mean… I know he did, but it’s been a few weeks. Did something else happen?”

Flynn scoffed, drawing the back of his hand roughly across his face. “He has a new boyfriend already. Skinny fucker with a fancy ass car.” He kicked the ground once more before beginning to walk, away from the playground and toward the sandy shores of the lake.

Teagan followed him. “Why did you keep stalking his social media? I told you it would only hurt you more.”

“I’m a glutton for punishment or something, I don’t know.” Flynn swallowed another swig of the rum, silently offering it to Teagan. She obliged, taking a small sip. “He was probably sleeping with this guy before he even broke up with me. He’s probably the reason Bentley broke up with me.”

“You can’t start thinking about that stuff, Flynn.” Teagan sighed, reaching down and scooping up a handful of sand, to watch it filter from between her fingers in a faintly hissing cascade. “Bentley was a piece of shit. It hurts right now but a few months down the line, it won’t, and he can go and continue to ruin all of his future relationships without dragging you into it. That’s what’s gonna happen. All that bullshit he told you about his exes being ‘abusive’ and ‘toxic’ probably wasn’t even true. He liked to play the victim.”

That much was true, and Flynn hated to think about it. He didn’t say anything for a long few moments, continuing to wander down the shoreline while Teagan walked quietly at his side. The two of them eventually stopped at the large tree that had fallen during a storm, cutting the shore in half. Flynn clambered up, finally perching in a spot where two branches forked off. Teagan joined him, sitting on a branch across from his own.

“Did it hurt this much when Victoria broke up with you?” He kicked his feet in the air, avoiding eye contact in favour of looking out at the water.

“No. But she was also a lot more physically abusive,” Teagan replied softly. “It’s a little easier to heal from a break up when they were knocking you around. Not so much when it was emotional manipulation.”

“Ugh. I hate that word.” Flynn snapped a twig off from beside him, breaking it over and over again until the pieces were too small to go any further. “Mostly because it’s true. I should have noticed so much longer ago. I’m so stupid.”

“No, people like Bentley are just very sneaky.” Teagan reached out and made a grabby-hands motion. Knowing immediately what she wanted, Flynn passed her the bottle. “Don’t feel bad for yourself. Feel bad for the new guy. Bentley will probably screw him over just as badly as he did you.”

Flynn shrugged, saying nothing. He didn’t want to feel sorry for the new guy. He wanted to be angry at them. He wanted to pretend that they had seduced Bentley, and that they were the reason everything had fallen apart. He knew it wasn’t right. Sure, maybe the new guy was prettier and skinnier and more well off, and Bentley had decided he wanted an upgrade. Still wouldn’t be that guy’s fault. Just Bentley’s.

But it was easier to be angry.

He remained silent. Teagan turned on her phone, putting one of Flynn’s favourite bands on shuffle. She noticed the small smile that flickered on his lips, and said nothing.

The two sat for over an hour, saying nothing, and watching the waves of the lake while music played to fill the otherwise silent night. Eventually Flynn shifted, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Whether or not he had been crying, he would never admit, and Teagan would never mention.

“My ass hurts from sitting on this damn tree. Let’s go home.” Flynn began to climb down to the sand below.

Teagan followed him, then gasped as her hoodie caught on a protruding branch. Flynn hurried over and tugged it free before promptly shoving the hood down over her eyes and darting away before she could slap him.

As they left the lake, climbing over the gate, Flynn hesitated before voicing his thoughts. “Hey, uh, Teagan?”

“Yeah?” She glanced over, smiling.

“Wanna sleep over at my place tonight?” The company would bring him some sort of peace of mind at the very least. He didn’t want to be alone. Not tonight.

“But your parents--”

“Forget them. They never check on me in the mornings. When we wake up, you can sneak out the window and I’ll go downstairs and distract them.” He paused. “Please?”

Teagan laughed. “In spite of better judgement, of course I will, dummy.” She playfully shoved him before interlocking her arm with his. “C’mon. Let’s go home. I wanna watch something stupid on TV. Like, bad reality TV stupid.”

Flynn managed a brief smile. “Deal.”

The two of them continued on down the street in a companionable silence. And for that moment, Flynn felt okay.

#wip: metanoia #oc: flynn howlett #oc: teagan woods #sorry for a lot of the stuff i write be break up stuff #don't read it if you don't wanna i guess but it is what it is

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patricia-von-arundel · 6 years

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Frozen: A Dark Retelling - Chapter 23

Rating: T

Summary: The movie retold, a darker exploration of the characters, their motives, their psychological states, and their fates. Two sisters who were once the best of friends, kept apart by forces beyond their control: when secrets are revealed and death seems imminent, will their isolation eternally define them, or can they find one another again in the darkest depths of winter?

For the second night in a row, Hans got very little sleep – but as the sun rose, he felt no ill effect. In fact, he felt quite the opposite, almost buzzing with excitement; it was difficult to sit still, to concentrate on his lengthening list of tasks, to think about anything besides the potential for the information he had gleaned from Elsa's papers. He breakfasted at his desk – forcing himself to stop after a single cup of coffee, not wanting to make himself even more jittery – and considered his options for the day. He had another meeting with Elsa's advisors at midday, and he still intended to make a show of sending a search party out for Anna and Elsa, but he thought perhaps he would do that in the afternoon, when more people would be out. He wondered if he should send his men, or men from Arendelle – the latter might make a better show of trust, but he wasn't convinced he wanted to allow it regardless. They could easily work with the queen to see him removed; he knew the household staff disliked him, so it was reasonable to suspect the same might be true of the royal guards. Maybe he would send one of his new friends from last night, with orders to ingratiate himself, so any secrets would not be kept from him. Then Hans would know if anything subversive occurred. He didn't plan to keep on any of the current guard anyway, and this could provide him with the excuse to do away with them. So he might even venture to hope for covert meetings with the queen. There was a niggling worry at the back of his mind, however, that finding Elsa alive and not Anna – or finding Anna dead – could make his position difficult. Sending his men would have the potential to solve that problem preemptively. He would have to give this further consideration. In the meantime, he thought it might be best to be seen out and about – helping the people of his long-suffering kingdom. He dressed warmly – the long cloak, lined boots – and looked out the window, just to make sure the sky did not once more hold promise of snow. But it was a clear, deep, cloudless blue; he thought of the words of the former king, regarding Elsa's powers and the state of her mind. Did this calm mean she was content somewhere, or merely at the limit of her strange abilities? Or did it mean she was already dead? He considered briefly the possibility that her death might mean a never-ending winter. Hadn't some of the townspeople spoken of the prophecy as alluding to such? He could not precisely remember, but thought they had. He would have to make mention of it while he was out, to try to determine how widespread was the belief. Venturing into the hall, he stopped the first servant he saw – a timid little mouse of a woman who looked as though she expected him to bite – to make sure food was still being prepared for anyone who might need it. She assured him that it was – then hurried on before he had actually dismissed her. He watched her go. The insubordination here was truly disquieting. But it was nothing to dwell on now. The people of Arendelle were being cared for – now, he would go among them, continuing his quest to earn their trust. The castle staff could be replaced. The entirety of a kingdom? That was not so easy. Stepping outside for the first time since all of this had begun was a nasty shock – the corridors were cold, but outside was painfully, bone-chillingly so; it seemed to suck away breath as well as warmth, so cold his immediate inclination was to retreat right back to the nearest fireplace. He ignored that inclination, of course, but the achy feeling building within was not so easily pushed aside. Anna had left wearing only a cloak over a summer formal gown designed for appearance, not protection. Surely, she had not survived the night, which would have been even more frigid than this? Something to worry about later. There were people out in the square, a ragged line of them, apparently awaiting a chance to be given whatever supplies they might need: blankets, firewood, bundles of food. He had to wonder how many actually needed it, and how many were just taking advantage of the promise of things being given free of charge and with no questions asked. He would give even those seeking something for nothing a bit of respect – they were, after all, standing around in the cold, too. Hans went to them first, these people shivering so patiently in a line, talked to them, tried to gauge their feelings on things. But though most spoke to him readily and politely enough, they were reticent in their answers, and often refused to meet his eyes, though the latter was perhaps due to his status. But none had a negative opinion on Queen Elsa, the kingdom, the current situation – not a single cross word, which Hans found rather difficult to believe. It also left him feeling rather disgruntled – he was not going to be pleased if Elsa, the cause of all his mess, was given credit for his ceaseless efforts of recent days. He needed to speak publicly again. He would have to arrange for word to get out that he planned to do so. Regardless, maybe these people just didn't want to speak out while here, in the shadow of the castle providing them with supplies. Or they might assume he was actually on Elsa's side, trying to ferret out those who were less than loyal. It really wasn't so different from his concerns about the royal guards. But it still left him in need of accurate information – he needed to venture beyond the gates. But Arendelle proper, he discovered, was all but deserted, and the few people he did see walked quickly, heads down, hurrying through to enclosed locales as quickly as they could. Few were willing to spare him a glance, much less stop to talk – and he honestly did not believe that so many failed to hear him. This was proving more difficult than he might have anticipated, though he supposed he could understand not wanting to remain outside any longer than was absolutely necessary. But he needed to be seen, needed to talk to people, reassure them that he could solve the crisis created by their wayward queen and her father before her. Let them know that they could trust him. He would, he finally decided, just have to hope they had seen him, even those who hadn't given any indication that this was so, and word would spread – Prince Hans had braved the cold for the people of Arendelle, to see them safe and secure, to make sure, personally, that their needs were being met. Their queen had abandoned them, her sister had disappeared, but their savior – beloved of Princess Anna – was here, and here he would remain. With such hopes in mind, he began to make his way back to the castle – he was chilled to the bone, and it was approaching time to meet with Elsa's advisors again, besides. He wondered if he should tell them of Elsa's store of information, the nature of the material; it might twist the dagger a bit deeper into the fitness of her rule. He thought of Bishop Dresdner, who had with such subtlety implied his mind had already considered that she might not be fit, and of Larsen and Pedersson, who had clearly felt much the same way about Hans – what if he could find something in all those letters and journals implying the latter two had known of Elsa's powers, how dangerous she could be, but done nothing to stop her? Appealing thoughts, but they would want to know how he had come by private papers Elsa kept hidden in her own room, and if he claimed someone had gotten them for him, a name would be demanded. Could he perhaps convince them someone had delivered them anonymously? Or he could discuss it privately with Dresdner – if the man was already angry at Elsa's duplicitous crowning, he might not question as much where Hans had gotten his information. And with one powerful figure firmly on his side, others would follow. Hans was so deep in thought he missed the commotion at the castle gates until he had almost walked right into the midst of it. There was shouting, people yelling for calm, someone crying; a crowd had gathered at the walls. And in all of it, two words penetrated, a call to arms: "Princess Anna!" He was careful not to let the consternation he felt show – whatever this was about, it was nothing good, and nothing he had the time to deal with right now. Nonetheless, he knew he would have to do so. He worked his way through the mob of people – all of them suddenly apparently oblivious to the cold – to see what it was about. People parted to let him through; he had established at least that much authority. He saw a tighter cluster of men at the center of the mob, including several in guards' uniforms and one in the livery of the stables. And in their midst – bucking, fighting, snorting – was a horse. Hans didn't recognize it – his attention two nights ago had been on other things – but he didn't have to note the animal was both well-bred and well-groomed to figure out it must be Anna's. He let them get the horse calmed before approaching. "What's going on? Where is Princess Anna?" He raised his voice – and slowly, the people around went quiet, waiting to hear the answer. One of the guards glanced at the others, then turned to Hans. "It... it came back alone, your highness. There's no sign of the princess." Hans looked to the north – to the mountains where both Anna and her sister had disappeared. He had his audience now; fate had provided him a chance to win them, and he fully intended to take it. It would not have been the decision he might have made in any other circumstances, but he had learned early and well to take advantage of what was presented to him. He turned to the people of Arendelle, his decision made. "Princess Anna is in trouble. I need volunteers to help me find her." Fateful, indeed.

Kristoff tried to come up with a reasonable plan – since his undesired charge clearly had none – while Anna slept. It was hard to think with her there, though; she slept like she was in the midst of some difficult physical training exercise, flailing and rolling and mumbling and snorting. More than once, he had to jerk out of the way of a flying hand or foot. It made him wonder what he looked like asleep, which was a ridiculous waste of time – but she had been watching him. Nobody had ever watched him sleep before, and it was a strangely uncomfortable thing to consider. Particularly since she'd had a chance to do so twice in less than a full day together. The next time her foot tried to connect with his ribs, he stood and went to the doorway of their little cave, closer to Sven. Sven at least staying in one place while he slept. At daybreak, he gave Anna a nudge with his boot, then a harder one, but she didn't so much as stir. He sighed, crouched, and gave her shoulder a good, brisk shake. And a second one. Finally, she twitched and stretched – he tried not to pay attention to the arch of her back – and yawned and blinked blearily up at him. "'Sit morning?" He got back to his feet. "Yeah. We need to get going. We might make it up today, if we time ourselves right." "That would be great!" And just like that, she went from being nearly comatose to sitting up, wide awake and pulling out her braids to replait them. He still couldn't decide if she was strange for a princess, or just plain strange. They ate breakfast as they walked, passing the bag back and forth, Sven following placidly behind. The snow had hardened still further in the night – it was slick, but at least they weren't sinking into it with every step. The sun shone high and bright – and glinted off something unfamiliar atop the mountain. He paused, squinted up at it. Anna walked a few steps further, realized he had stopped, and looked where he was looking. He heard her breath catch. "I guess we've found your sister," he said. She didn't reply. When he turned to her, she was gazing up with awed terror in her eyes – staring at the shards and spikes glowing like cold blue fire. The queen had built herself a fortress. And for the first time, Kristoff saw real uncertainty in Anna's eyes. He felt sorry for her – but quickly shoved the feeling away. "Come on. We know where we're going, but that doesn't make it any quicker to get there." Anna was silent and pensive as they walked on; he told himself firmly to ignore it – whatever she was feeling right now, she needed to work through it herself. He couldn't do it for her, no matter how frightened and uncertain she might look. He needed to focus on the job ahead: making it up the mountain. Getting Anna to her sister. Parting ways. He had a lot of stuff to try to figure out when this was over – like day-to-day survival when every skilling he'd earned was gone and he hadn't stocked up on supplies on the off-chance of blizzard conditions in July. Nonetheless, he found himself breaking the silence: "That looks pretty impressive, what she did up there." Anna glanced again towards the apex of the mountain. "Yeah," she said softly – and no more. "You sure you want to go up there?" "I have to." "You have to?" She looked at him. The fear was still in her eyes, but her voice was determined. "She's my sister." He shrugged, walked on. It had been a long time since he'd had a family, but his mind cast back – again – to how desperately he had pounded on that door. If it had been a mountain to climb instead, would he have done it? Of course he would have – without a second thought or hesitation. Though considering what Anna had told him of Queen Elsa, he wasn't sure she wanted to be found. And the palace she had, apparently, built for herself overnight – it didn't exactly appear warm and inviting; it looked like a pretty clear warning to stay away. Once more, he wondered if they should have gone to his friends first. "She's all I have left," Anna continued softly. "What about that guy you're going to marry?" For a moment, she looked confused – then shook her head. "That's different. I mean, I love him, of course I do, but it's... different." He resisted the urge to smirk. "All right. If you say so. But focus on getting rid of the snow first, yeah?" "Yeah..." And she lapsed again into pensive silence. He left her to it. They had entered another wooded area, the snow thinner on the ground but piled atop the twisted, wind-bent trees. It would likely be the last of those – soon, they would reach the level of year-round snow, too harsh for all but the most tenacious life. He had sheltered among such trees if caught out in unexpected bad weather – not the most optimal cover, but better than nothing. But this wood wasn't exactly what he had expected – starting with the footprints, small and even, then more erratic, further apart and deeper. He assumed they were Queen Elsa's, but the change in them was disquieting. Something had happened here. Anna didn't appear to notice them – would she even recognize them as footprints? - and he didn't tell her. She was dealing with enough already. And he would prefer not to think about, much less discuss, what the change in the footprints might mean for what they would find at the top of the mountain. Especially since, as Anna described her, the queen might not have been particularly stable to begin with. He would deal with that if it happened. But no – it wouldn't be his problem. It would be Anna's. And if it looked as if Anna might be in danger? He didn't want to think about it. Maybe the footprints meant nothing. Maybe they weren't even Queen Elsa's. There were already two royals running around up here; who could say there wasn't a third? Anna didn't notice the footprints, but she did notice the sudden, strange decorative additions to the trees – it would have been almost impossible not to, since they were both dodging them. She raised her hand, running them along the frozen strands, the beads of ice strung along them. "What are they?" she asked. He shrugged. "Nothing natural. It looks like your sister came this way, too." "Elsa...?" She said it with disbelief, as if he could possibly be talking about anyone else. "You think Elsa did this? But it's... it's beautiful." She shook her head, muttering now, almost as if to herself: "I mean, not that she couldn't make something beautiful, of course she could, I've just never seen her. I've never seen anything she's made. I didn't know she made things." "Not bad for a first attempt," he said – because Anna, after her monologue, looked sad and uncertain. She reached up again, running her mittened hand across the ice garlands. Her eyes were haunted, distant; he gave in: "Hey, you all right?" She looked so young and vulnerable. But when her eyes found his, she managed a smile and a firm nod. "I'm fine." He let her be – he knew, already, that she would talk when the time was right. She would probably ramble incessantly. But he found himself glancing her from time to time, just making sure. It was unnerving. And getting more difficult to convince himself it was only worry for his own future well-being that made him want to keep her safe. But what did that make her? A friend? It had been most of a lifetime since he'd experienced normal human relationships firsthand. He wondered now if that wasn't a loss, rather than what he'd often considered to be one of his few lucky breaks. He wasn't sure what to make of Anna at all. "She must be pretty impressive," he finally said. "Your sister." Anna smiled at him. "I always thought so." The next silence that fell seemed to him just a little bit more comfortable. She was still brushing her hands through the garlands, but her eyes looked less confused, less worried. They stopped for lunch at the edge of the wood, their first break of the day. Anna flopped down gratefully, falling on her back with a beleaguered sigh and an arm across her eyes, and he couldn't fully hide his smile. She'd gone all morning without complaint, and considering how tiny and soft she was, he had to feel a little bit impressed. "We'll be up there by dusk," he said, and she groaned theatrically and added her other arm to the one over her face. He laughed. "You've made it this far, you can make it a few more hours. Unless you'd prefer to sleep in the snow?" "There better be beds up there. Real beds." They ate, and he fed Sven, taking maybe a little longer than normal to give her a chance to rest. When he turned back, she had a peculiar expression on her face. "Did you hear something?" "Just Sven chewing." She cocked her head, listening hard, then shook it. "Maybe just an animal or something." He shrugged, but kept an ear open as they resumed their journey. There shouldn't be anything that could hurt them, this high up and in daylight, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be cautious. But he heard nothing but the wind – and even that was hardly more than a sigh. The going was harder now, steeper, the snow hiding uneven, craggy mountain face beneath. Several times, they had to go well out of their way to allow Sven to stay with them; several others, he had to give Anna a boost, or haul her up after him. Finally, they came to a steep incline, almost a cliff – and there was no way to continue on with Sven. Kristoff sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Guess he'll be okay here. I'll get you up there and then come to check on him." "It's okay. I can do it from here." Anna bit her lip, took a deep breath – and started up the incline. She was on her hands and knees, crawling and clambering. "Anna, no, wait-" "I'm fine!" "You're going to get hurt. Just wait. Just – wait, I said." Anna made a noncommittal noise and continued her awkward scuttle-climb over the rock. Kristoff sighed, went back to getting Sven settled. He would go after her, but let her try to do it herself first. She would learn. He was almost ready to start up himself when she cried out. He looked up just in time to see her lean precariously to one side, trying to point – and then she cried out again as she lost her balance and fell hard down the incline. He reacted instinctively, stepping forward so that she fell cleanly into his arms. A moment of surprise – and then she smiled sheepishly. "Ouch." "I told you to wait. Twice." "Sorry?" He sighed. "Next time, listen. Are you hurt?" She considered for a moment, wriggled, then shook her head. "I won't even notice a few more bruises, at this point." "Good." He dumped her back on her feet. "This time, wait for me." "We don't have to climb. I saw at the top – come here." She grabbed his arm and took him to the edge of the incline. There was a cliff face here, a deep drop into nothingness. But across it, a narrow staircase had been built – purely of smooth, blue ice. "Seemed easier," Anna said, and she smiled and shrugged. Above, the queen's palace loomed.

#frozen #frozen fanfiction #frozen a dark retelling #shardsverse

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