#there were a couple others i could have seen working well for her like empress and maybe star or sun

[bengiyo]

The Rebel Princess Gave Me Everything I Wanted from a Court Intrigue Drama

Hello, friends. I am once again here to praise a heterosexual drama. I'm shocked as much as you. This time @lurkingshan created enough curiosity in me that I didn't charge her any of her recommendation tickets, and she got me to watch 68 episodes of people determined to fuck Zhang Zi Yi's character Wang Xuan.

This show gave everything that shows like Game of Thrones thought they were giving. It was such a relief to watch a show where everyone had clear goals and went about them in fairly sensible ways. On the real, though, almost every character's primary motivation for doing anything is because they wanna fuck the most eligible daughter of the Wang clan, even in the final episode. I couldn't believe it!

I had a great time with this show! It gave me some of the most competent characters I've ever seen, and the primary couple works really well together. The hardest thing for me with this show (other than the heterosexuality) was the fact that they didn't let Zhang Zi Yi play a martial artist. This is the girl who stole the Green Destiny. This is the girl throwing knives across fields and around trees. They wanted me to believe she could only rely on her wits!

This show had some incredible characters. We had the Empress Dowager, who is always mad that no one likes her even as she's trying to force people to surrender to her will. I'm so glad she's not on twitter.

We had her song, Zilong, who has probably the most compelling arc in the show. He was a useless little shit early on, but he was actually growing into the role of emperor and was one of the few characters in power to actually care about the health and stability of the nation.

There's Ma Zilu, aka The Brothel Prince. He was my favorite villain. He was the only villain not focused on who got to fuck his cousin/sister and for that I respect him the most. He also had an incredible cackle. Look at him stabbing his own brother to stab Xuan.

There's Yu Xiu, my favorite girl of all time. I just need her to know that she did well in the interview. All of Ningshuo Army. Pan Gui, my beloved.

There's an incredible cast. I don't want to go on naming all of them, because truly the character I loved the most was Xiao Qi. This man was genuinely good in a way we so rarely get in these intrigue dramas. He's loyal, powerful, and competent. He cares about the state of the world and aspires to no higher position than is necessary to accomplish the mission. Then he surrenders his power and tries to go home. He loves and respects his wife, promises to marry only her, and chooses not to have children to make sure she doesn't risk dying in childbirth.

This show is full of some incredible battle sequences that are some of the most satisfying I've ever experienced in TV. They spend their money efficiently, but they build the emotions so well that every time we are seeing combat we can feel the stakes. It's been so long since I watched a show with good Warrior's Bond content, and I was compelled by this show once it really got rolling.

Still, as much as I loved this show and highly recommend it, I will not be watching another drama anytime soon with this much heterosexuality in it.

#Ben watches #the rebel princess #monarch industry #cdrama

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Guerrilla advertising for the in-crowd? by u/Economy-Alfalfa-2241

Guerrilla advertising for the in-crowd? So our Chip-pan Ghost has finally materialised into her true form, which is going to take over the world via boiled vegetable products. The Jam Empress rises like a phoenix, casting her beatific glow upon us, her adoring subjects. Granted, we've mostly said "woddaf? Mentalist" but whilst sending someone a plant pot with a couple of lemons, a jar of botulism and a HAndWriTtEn NoTe in notigraphy is absolutely hilariously funny, I did wonder...I assumed the lemons were just because. I'm a GhastlyPoor, we don't have Aesthetics to worry about, but didn't the nobby posh pips just do the whole declutter thing? Thanks, we needed more random crap and this is a bucket of prime random (honestly, this is all so bizarrely funny it writes itself) from who? What? Eh? Oh god, not that ghastly thirsty woman again...note to self; get restraining order. But strawberry jam and lemons are connected - iirc, pectin is needed for strorbs and the original source is lemons. No idea why I know that or how I know that. Obviously Education worked for that day.But I suddenly remembered Lemonada. Are these actually fifty desperate "please come into my podcast with this barely-there company so we can talk about me and how I'm not a friendless loser married to a comedy merkin who has been banished to the chicken coop so many times the chickens are evicting him for nuisance" offerings? Poor Clotface, all he wants is a nice quiet space for him and his bong so they can be happy being miserable, but she's got him up trees picking those yellow blobs and it's probably Willy's fault.She didn't get ANY big names after the first two of the ArchSwill tripe, and those two were on the downhill trajectory, their glory years behind them. I'm not up on slebs, but I didn't even recognise any of the others or only in a famous-for-being-famous-thirty-years-ago way, though I don't know if some of the others are names in the US? But if that was for Spotify, THE podcast company providing professionally sourced, recorded and produced material and with loud trumpets farting the Miraculous Arrival, then who is going to do the honours over an iPhone in the shed? The cleaning lady?Is this her touting for new victims to have impactful, authentic voices to lend to the conversation we need to have as seen through the dustbin lid of whatever? Are the stakes now so big - and I just rolled my eyes so hard I'm looking up my own fundament - she's out drumming up business? And if it IS Lemonada, are we just supposed to join the dots ourselves? It could be wryly clever, but bandit advertising relies on random thing going viral. I don't do the whole "influencer" (barf) thing but isn't 600k really just micro-influencer? I don't know how that compares, but I'm guessing in the ballpark of various tragic reality telly stars? But that's kind of the level you need, the types who *are* influenced, except they tend to have short attention spans and lower disposable income and the market is beyond saturated. I think I'm too stupid for this. We're not the "in" club, sinners, we're not supposed to unlock the secrets. Sorreeeee. post link: https://ift.tt/N7dRZGL author: Economy-Alfalfa-2241 submitted: April 18, 2024 at 07:56PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

#SaintMeghanMarkle #harry and meghan #meghan markle #prince harry #fucking grifters #Worldwide Privacy Tour #Instagram loving bitch wife #Backgrid #voetsek meghan #walmart wallis #markled #archewell #archewell foundation #megxit #duke and duchess of sussex #duke of sussex #duchess of sussex #doria ragland #rent a royal #sentebale #clevr blends #lemonada media #archetypes with meghan #invictus #invictus games #Sussex #WAAAGH #american riviera orchard #Economy-Alfalfa-2241

[inlocusmads]

1 for Nora, 2 for Killian, 5 for the OC of your choice

#1 for Nora:

Nora has precisely one family member who is her uncle Tommy and yes, of course she tells him where she is. It's usually texts and calls whenever they're free and that's pretty much it. Nothing too unique there. If Nora goes to a place where there's no proper cell service, she just ends up emailing him.

Straying away a bit here: Nora's phone calls to literally anyone is so short lol. It's the most precise thing ever, mostly because she kind of grew up in a household where her parents would only phone each other if they were not reachable physically or have some prior need. It's why she texts and talks over the phone in the bluntest possible way because she doesn't know how to carry on a conversation over the phone. It's easier for her to do so in real life, in her uncle's bar or some other meeting point like that, but harder on call because she's just "Hello, yeah, you're well? What happened? Okay. Fine. Bye." and it's such a culture (?) shock when she realizes people do talk more than what happened during the day.

It works out anyway because Nora ends up getting used to longer conversations with Trystan over the phone because they all start out somewhere, but two hours later, they have gone through every topic and her phone battery had already plummeted to 4%.

#2 for Killian:

Have you seen Killian? She loves to do nothing. She loves chilling. Literally her thing lmao. Killian hates initiating things and she's more content in a tavern somewhere, half-asleep and half-drunk with her brother Kade wrestling some guy in a music battle. Part of the reason why she gravitated towards more 'chiller' hobbies such as alchemy and crafts because it doesn't require an insane amount of work out in the open and she could gather up resources handy and make something convenient for herself.

It's why she never wanted to be involved in the whole Ash Empress and Valax businesses in the first place. Just let her be, man, cmon, not that difficult. She's so ready to retire. She's got her brother, a couple of good friends, it's enough. Moving around goes against all her core principles.

#5 for... Nora, again, lol. I'm sorry, I just want an excuse to talk about her some more, if that's all right!

THIS IS THE BEST QUESTION EVER AAAAAH Okay okay I'll add some pictures too.

Nora has, suffice to say a lot of jackets and coats, but most of them are hand-me-downs. She doesn't really spend on clothes - not because she's hip and cool and sustainable like that (okay she is sustainable), but she's very very frugal as a person. Insanely frugal. She doesn't know how 'treating yourself" works, hasn't done that and doesn't have any materialistic aspirations because she's looking for the best deal possible. Not because she's Asian. Okay maybe it is because of that, but you get my drift. Nora does spend on clothes - not like she never does, she does, but it's a rarity and she only gets them if she knows a) the coat is priced aptly to her requirements b) she loves the coat and c) she wears it everyday and uses it and won't just wear it for a one-time affair and it is long-lasting.

Her dad's old corduroy jacket. Something like this:

Imagine a J stitched on the pocket area.

It was Jimmy's old jacket that was a wedding present to him by Alison (Nora's mom) and even after Jimmy outgrew the jacket, he still kept it for good luck. It helped him a lot on police cases (and a lucky charm for Nora during her soccer games) and of course young Nora had her eye on it and the broad shoulders to support it so of course, she took it - probably the only thing Nora took from Jimmy's stash of things after he passed on because some things are just too unbearable to use after intense grief.

And the luck did stay. Nora wears it almost on the daily. There's big pockets to keep her stuff, the material is perfect for New York's weather, it isn't flimsy - Nora provides extra special care to the jacket alone, throwing everything else in the washing machine. Even though her shoulders fit, they're a bit big on her especially on the sleeves but she doesn't mind them. A hallmark of the coat is that it comes with candy wrappers and pens in their pockets, which is why in the handful of times Trystan takes her jacket out for a spin (it fits him so perfectly), he's dismayed to fish into the pockets and get ink stains all over his hands.

2. A maroon blazer

This was Nora's first ever purchase with her first month's salary from the Agency and yes of course she wears it often. It means a lot to her too because it made her feel like a 'professional' and got Mafalda to approve too, especially after feeling like shit during her NYPD years.

She bought it because she really liked the colour and pairs it up with virtually every single shirt she owns and it works.

3. A leather jacket, something like this (but more accurate on the left than the right)

This was a purchase from when she graduated from uniforms to jackets in the NYPD (aka became a homicide detective for a brief period of a year or two ish). She got it from a clearance section and is super proud of her selection because it made her look so cool back in the day - with her cropped haircut, leather jacket, trousers and shoes. It's the piece of youth she hangs on to even though she isn't even that old.

4. Her uncle's old denim trucker jacket

This was Uncle Tommy's really really old jacket that was in good condition that he intended on giving away, except Nora was like "mine" and she ended up giving it to a tailor to have it mended more to her liking. It just has a cool set of buttons and lots of utility options and that's just enough, you know? That's just it to her.

She seldom wears it though, but when she does, she pairs it up with a baseball cap or something and it all comes together in a nice harmony.

And finally, to conclude Nora's top five jackets run through is..

#5: This track-suit/ sportswear jacket and windbreaker:

Nora used to do sports. Now she doesn't anymore, but she still wears them tracks lol. It's really helpful during rainy or windy weathers and a very useful purchase. She wears it pretty often considering it rains a lot sometimes. She has a lot of athleisure wear, but this is her favourite because she loves the colour and it's such a refreshing change from the monotones she wears a lot.

___

Thank you so much for the ask Caro <33

character generator asks

#generator asks #thosehallowedhalls #nora rose #killian clawthorne #askboxed

[yourfellowhuman07]

Where Do We Go Now?

A She-ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction

The war is finally over. Prime is dead, the hive mind is broken, and everyone is reunited with their loved ones. However, there are some questions left unanswered. What will be the fate of Catra and Hordak? What are these new memories Wrong Hordak has? What is Etheria's place in the wider universe? Where do we go now?

___________________

Chapter 14. Now it's time to check up on Dryl.

___________________

Chapter 14: Department

As the day moons stretched over the horizon, everyone was packing up to leave for their respective kingdoms. Hordak sat upon Entrapta’s bed as she ran around the room checking that she had all her belongings for the third time. All of Hordak’s belongings were still in the Fright Zone and most of them had probably been destroyed during the fight between him and Catra; however, it did not matter. He was intrigued about what awaited him in Dryl. He had only seen images of the Crypto Castle so most of the kingdom was unknown to him.

“Ok, you ready to go?”

It turns out Entrapta’s things only amounted to a medium backpack and a large duffle bag.

“Yes, would you like for me to carry those for you?”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Entrapta, last I checked we are partners,” he took the duffle bag off her shoulders and placed it on his left shoulder. “Therefore, we take on an equal workload.” He offered his hand to Entrapta which she gladly took as she rose into her hair chair. Hordak placed a kiss on her hand before the couple left to join the rest of the Princess Alliance.

__________________________________________

As the couple stepped out of the castle they were met with the hustle and bustle of the Princess Alliance. She-Ra was lifting some of the heavier cargo while the rest of the magically gifted handled the rest. The ones without magic were begrudgingly standing off to the side. Entrapta went off to speak with Glimmer leaving Hordak with Catra of all people. When he realized this he immediately began to walk away until he was stopped by the tugging of Entrapta’s duffle bag.

“Look, Hordak-” Catra started.

“Could you spare me of your nonsense for once?”

“I’m sorry-”

“Catra, I do not want any half-baked apology from you. From the moment you started to work for me, you were nothing but trouble, and you have harmed one of the few people who has kept me from ending my miserable life; thus, it would be in your best interest to stay out of my life before I end yours.”

Hordak turned on his heels, leaving Catra in the dust. Before he had gotten too far Catra caught what he said under his breath.

“You are just like Shadow Weaver.”

Hordak had made his way toward his brother and Imp, who both possessed a full head of hair. TD unsurprisingly had long, silky, white hair that reached past his shoulders, Imp had short, curly, grey hair that desperately needed to be combed.

“When did this happen?”

“Half an hour ago. What do you think.”

“It suits you two.” Imp then jumped upon his rightful place on Hordak’s shoulder and received chin scratches which were abruptly stopped when the trio heard someone clear their throat.

“Hello, Hordak, TD. How are you two?”

“Who are you again?” Hordak said turning to face the boy.

“I’m Bow, tech master of the Alliance.”

Well, if this boy is a Techmaster, Entrapta must be the Tech Empress, Hordak thought. When Hordak finished that thought visions of Entrapta sitting upon a throne in a beautiful gown while she was fiddling with whatever her genius thought up flooded his mind. Sadly, he had to quickly banish those thoughts from his mind so he may focus on his conversation with Bow.

“Ah, yes, Entrapta has told me about you before.”

“Really what did she say?”

Before Hordak could respond, Imp gave a recorded response of his own.

“(-I mean yeah he’s pretty good with tech. He’s about where I was at 15 years old, other than that his inventions are good just not sky-shattering.-)” Hordak recalled this conversation, he inquired Entrapta when she first came to the Fright Zone about what she knew about the other princesses so he could keep all info about them updated and hopefully discover their weaknesses. Sadly, Entrapta did not know much about them, not even most of their names. Hordak looked back down at Bow, who looked positively deflated.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you two around.” And as quickly as he came, Bow left to join Sea Hawk and Swift Wind.

“Did you have to do that?” Imp gave a mischievous giggle as he flew away toward Emily.

Everyone was called over to the ship, or Darla, as Entrapta calls her. As Hordak stepped on the ship he realized how archaic it was. It was a miracle Entrapta got it to work, let alone fly it through space. As the ship took off, Hordak could feel what he had observed.

“I realize Darla needs a lot of work, and I’m trying to convince Glimmer to let me work on her so this baby could run as well as the day it first came out of the factory,” Entrapta whispered in Hordak’s ear.

“Perhaps we can reuse the inner hardware of Prime’s ships to replace the more run-down parts in this ship.”

“Yes, please! I keep finding sand in this baby even after I deep-cleaned her. Twice!”

The group sat down, waiting to be dropped off at their respective locations. They could use Glimmer’s teleportation powers to transport everyone, but no one wanted to exhaust her. They sat within their usual groups, with Hordak braiding TD’s hair similar to his own. As time crept by, everyone was within their kingdom after they each gave a ludicrously long goodbye.

#entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #spop #hyperfixation #spop fanfic #she ra #adora #fanfic #mermista #catra #glimmer #bow #imp #wrong hordak #perfuma #frosta #scorpia #shera #lonnie #kyle #rohelio

[magnimoon]

Chapter 18: The avoidable future - A Cullevelyan fic

You can read it on AO3 as well as the rest of the episodes!

Summary:

This is the mission "In Hushed Whispers". This is the start of the friendship Bryony has with Dorian.

The rest of the episode under the cut

“You know, for someone who traveled into a grim future like this… you seem pretty calm and excited about it.” Said Bryony to Dorian.

Dorian was analyzing the infrastructure of the chamber they fell into. There was a clear spark in his eyes while gazing at the cracks, the red lyrium overflowing from the walls and the pessimistic aura from the place. He immediately deduced that they traveled into the future and not the past. He helped with the formula for the spell, after all. Plus no one has ever mentioned red lyrium on Redcliffe. Not yet. There was a bit of pride in his smirk, amazed by what he and Alexius managed to fulfill.

“And you look at the verge of having a panic attack. Someone has to take us alive from this mess. Alas, the poor Tevinter mage needs to save the day. That is not the typical thing to do for my people, mind you. When do I get to try conquer the world?” Dorian answered to Bryony while inspecting her face.

Bryony was trying so hard to stay calm. But there was a wild shakiness on her hands holding her staff, her back was a bit stiff as well. Dorian has seen her in combat, she is way flexible and confident when doing so. Clearly this event shook her in many ways. Part of the blame goes to the fact that she rarely stepped outside from her Circle in Ostwick. So, suddenly being transported into the ruined and catastrophic Redcliffe, it had such a negative impact on the mage.

“Maybe once this is over, steal the pendant from Alexius and… I don’t know, go to the Golden City or something like that.” Bryony tried to avoid the situation with a bit of humor while exploring and looting as much as they could.

“And have no creativity? If I’m going to conquer the world, it must have some novelty, maybe in a flashier way.” Dorian looked goofily offended, clearly not meaning he was feeling that way.

“Invite me, I want to see how you’ll force your terrible fashion style into others.” Bryony finished looting the last guy, finding successfully a bunch of items she could sell once she returns to the past. If she returns that is.

“Ah, getting sassy. I like that.” Dorian opened the door for her as a nice gesture. He did promise to protect her, not that she needs it.

For a time, the couple of mages were exploring their whereabouts, trying to figure out in which part of the castle they were sent to. While fighting some Venatori, blood mages and demons here and there, Bryony knew she could trust Dorian. Dorian, on the other hand, knew that she was trusting her back to him.

Eventually, they reached a pair of cells filled with people way far gone. Their minds were already consumed by the whispers and songs of the lyrium. Among one of them, was Bryony’s future favorite dwarf, at least not in this timeline.

Following his humming, they found Varric in a tiny cell, surrounded by lyrium and, by the looks of it, covered in lyrium. There was an unpleasant red aura radiating from his body. But even if his eyes were glowing unnaturally, Varric kept his usual charming personality. Maybe lyrium hadn’t affected him yet, at least not his mind.

As distorted his voice was, he filled in some details about what was about to happen. Demon armies, the death of the Empress Celine and invasions caused by this “Elder One”, the usual stuff for Ferelden. Bryony joked about being lucky of missing all of those events, in her mind however, she was now getting an idea of what possibly she will be facing once she returns.

“Hey, don’t get nervous, we’ll figure it out once we are back.” Reassured Dorian after he saw her frowning while heading back to the corridor. He could pat her shoulder, but he was too prideful to do so.

“Well, it sounds like the Inquisition won’t be resting for a while.” Bryony sighed. She felt a bit better thanks to him.

“I know, looks like you guys will get all the fun.” He snorted.

“Feel free to join us, the Inquisition is always looking for crazy guys who know how to fight.”

“I can confirm.” Varric groaned while answering.

If Varric was found in a cell, Bryony thought that maybe the same scenario happened to Cassandra, so she didn’t exit before searching thoroughly. Fortunately, they did find her in another chamber, praying one of the Andrastian chants. Maybe her faith helped keep her mind from the songs of the red poison. But she was destroyed by her guilt, according to her she couldn’t protect Bryony, which caused all this demise and doom.

“While we are here, is there anything else we should know about the future? Anything about our team?” Bryony asked Varric and Cassandra while they were heading towards the throne room, since that’s where Alexius was hiding. She did this to distract the Seeker from her thoughts.

“We know nothing about Solas, he just disappeared. Vivienne returned to her palace to defend herself, but was obliterated in a few days.” Cassandra answered.

“Tiny returned to the qun and Hero succumbed to the lyrium, maybe it had to do with his Warden things. As for Buttercup… she ran out of arrows in middle of the fight.” Varric added, sounding a bit grim. There was more information regarding some of his friends from Kirkwall. But since only he knew them, that information was meant for him alone.

“Shit, well then, let’s make this worth it.” Bryony’s steps became faster and everyone followed.

Dorian knew none of them, but judging by her demeanor, they were close to her enough to care.

Surprisingly, the gang found Fiona in an almost devasted state, one quarter elf, three quarters of red lyrium already. The information given was almost superficial, such as being exactly one year in the future. But from the situation, Bryony only knew one thing: if they don’t help the mages right now, they might end just like Fiona. That is a fate meant for no one.

They also learned that Leliana was incarcerated somewhere in the castle, so their priority headed towards finding her. They needed to return to their present, but getting to know more about the future, plus having someone who might know where the throne room is, could put the odds in their favor.

Once they found her… it was not was they expected. These year has been harsh for everyone, but Leliana really suffered heavy tortures and betrayal. Enough to make her the perfect spymaster who believes in no one, not even the Warden whom she befriended years ago. That Leliana was gone, her face reflected the blight she had been injected or forced to consume, wrinkles of decay filling her once sleek and smooth forehead and cheeks. But the heaviest blow for Bryony was received when hearing upon Leliana’s now hate or at least fear for mages.

Given what has happened with her, with Redcliffe and possibly the rest of Ferelden, or even Thedas, no one can blame Leliana.

Dorian wanted more information about the future, but Leliana didn’t cooperate. Nothing could sway her from revealing more information since it was irrelevant, all that mattered was Alexius. Bryony wanted so badly to ask about Cullen, what could’ve happened to him in this cursed future. But given the situation, it would be pointless to ask. Leliana and she crossed eyes for a moment, and the Spymaster could guess what the Herald was thinking. So, the Spymaster only shook her head, indifferently shoving away any unnecessary curiosity.

After one of their many fights, Dorian approaches the Herald. “Are you alright?” he asks to Bryony since she seemed very tense after getting rid of some shades.

“Those ones were humas, did you hear them?” She answered, flinching at his voice.

The others were making sure there were no more mages on sight, Leliana was lockpicking the next door.

“Yes, I did, what about them?” Dorian got closer to her as if to make sure the others weren’t listening.

“One was called Linnea, we used to live in the same tower. Back in Ostwick.”

“Were you close?” Dorian looked at what was left from their corpses, thinking he was the one who burned them at the end. Kaffas, did I obliterate a dear friend of her?

“Quite the opposite, she always hated me for ‘being better than her’. But she only blamed everyone for her own faults.” She faintly grimed, recovering a bit of her poise.

“Ah. You also got one of those. Welcome, my friend.” He blurted without thinking at the mage. He was smiling in a bitter way. Bryony noticed that.

“What about you? Are you alright?” She asked. Dorian sighed; he was frustrated.

“This is madness.” He looked at the dock of the room they now were, there was a single boat. “Alexius can’t have wanted this.”

Bryony heard the door opening, Leliana was standing up, waiting for the others to rejoin the group.

“There is only one way to know. Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner we’ll get our answers.” Bryony patted his shoulder as to comfort him. “Oh, I forgot to ask. To the mage that hated you… you also kicked his or her face when they challenged you?” She tried to distract his mind.

“Let’s say I made sure he wouldn’t pester me again.” The Tevinter mage sounded cocky, he remembered getting locked in a tower for his misbehavior afterwards.

“Then, let’s make sure this doesn’t happen once we get back.” Bryony regained a bit of her spirit.

She was going to exit this nightmare, one way or another

........

It feels like Bryony hasn’t breathe fresh and clean air like this for years, yet it was only a few hours the time she spent in that cursed future. For everyone else, it was probably between a second or minute the time she was away. Guess I’m hours older than before. She dryly chuckled while gripping the balustrade’s edge on Redcliffe castle.

She was looking down onto everyone, gazing at the scenery. The soldiers sent by the Inquisition were restraining Alexius and sending him to their headquarters. Probably someone would give him a trial eventually. Per Bryony’s petition, Felix wasn’t captured. She allowed him to return to Tevinter, so that he could spend his last moments in peace before the Blight consumed him. She watched him leave peacefully, free of guilt. Dorian wasn’t with him, guess that both already said their goodbyes. I wonder if those two were together at some point.

There was also Fiona near the main gate, gathering the mages. They would soon depart from Redcliffe towards Haven alongside Bryony. The Herald was supposed to get ready as well, but how could she get ready? She brought nothing and there was nothing to settle. Plus, she could return to the Hinterlands anytime she wanted.

Queen Anora did ask her to leave immediately since she had to bring back Teagan and restore the order disturbed by the mages. Probably for quite some time, the mages would have a terrible reputation in Redcliffe, once more. And it didn’t help that Bryony decided to treat them as allies instead of prisoners, opposing to the popular idea. However, Anora wasn’t a complete devil and gave the troops some rations, water and even some time for Bryony for just… rest. Which is what she is doing. In a few more minutes, she would depart.

“Ah, there you are. We are all ready to leave.” Dorian approached her so casually, he didn’t lean his body against the balustrade, he just stood at her side.

“Hey, Dorian. I’ll be there in a while. I’m just… thinking.” Bryony gazed at him momentarily before reassuming her thoughts.

Dorian knew she wasn’t feeling completely well, as to why it was, he had to ask.

“Do you regret your actions?” He referred to allying with the mages. He was a bit worried it might the case, since he has been fully supportive of them, even if they did wrong.

“What? No, no! I’m happy we could make the mages our allies. Is just… everything that happened beforehand.” Her hands were shaking a bit.

“Ah, the ugly future.” He wanted to say more but he refrained from doing so.

Now he knew she wasn’t referring to the whole trip to messed-up-land. It was heavily implied that her trauma was due to that last hour before returning. Seeing her comrades die couldn’t have been easy, she almost ran towards them when the demons dragged Varric’s corpse into the hall. Dorian doesn’t know how much she knew them, but it was enough to scar her mind.

“But now, we are back. What happened there is not real anymore.” He didn’t know what to say exactly.

“Yeah, thanks. There’s nothing else to do here, for now. I better return to the Inquisition. I can already hear the Commander’s rambling about this.” She sighed while massaging her temples, just like Cullen would do.

As much as she likes him, the Commander can be a pain in the ass with the issue regarding the templars and mages. Why he had to be a templar? Why? This is what I get for finding them attractive. She thought.

“Not very supportive of mages, I assume.” He joked about it.

“More like not letting the templars down, you were there.”

“True.” Dorian laughed now that he remembered the golden hair of the Commander, then he looked at the Herald without her knowing. He had a troublesome smile.

While the couple of mages were exiting the building, Bryony was thinking about Leliana. After all, she was the one killed in front of her eyes. But most important, what she asked before the chaos started was still lingering in her mind.

After Varric and Cassandra left the hall to protect them, Bryony approached the Spymaster. She still had a few seconds before Dorian started the ritual. “Leliana, I know that this future will be avoided and it won’t matter anymore but…” she trembled for a few seconds, “what happened to Cullen?”

Leliana, cold blooded, knowing this will be the last time they would meet, finally comply. She groaned while loading her arrow. “It is better if you don’t know.” She silenced herself for a few seconds before dead looking at Bryony. “But, whatever happens, don’t let the Commander near lyrium, nor a man named Samson.”

At that was the last thing she knew before starting the ritual. Whatever that meant, it kept Bryony worried about the Commander. There is still a long ahead before she could admit to herself what she actually felt for Cullen, but this is a start.

What she didn’t know is that Dorian heard that conversation, while he was preparing the ritual. And now he wonders how close the Herald and the Commander are.

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#cullen rutherford #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor trevelyan #commander cullen #cullen stanton rutherford #cullevelyan

[arthrmorgann]

ocs + personality types - harriet marsh (the wayhaven chronicles)

#oc: harriet marsh #my gifs #my edit #dj khaled voice: another one #i told you that you were gonna have to suffer as i spam these #the type two one has some wonky colouring cause the psd i used really goofed up the lighting #also damn the taror was hard for her #there were a couple others i could have seen working well for her like empress and maybe star or sun #ocpersonality

[dalishious]

Hey Lydia. I'd like to include Briala in some of my fanfic, but I feel like we get a really limited (and deliberately obfuscated) view of her as a person in game. The problem is I have no desire at all to read The Masked Empire. Do you think maybe you could do a profile of Briala with some information about her personality from The Masked Empire for cowards like me who refuse to read the book?

I am always happy to talk about my gal! And if you have any specific questions, please feel free to ask them, friend.

I think it would be great to see Briala show up in more fanfics. 🖤

Background

When Celene was ten years old and Briala a couple unspecified years younger, she became Celene’s personal handmaid and companion. Both of Briala’s parents were servants of Celene’s family, and Briala was instructed by her mother “to be very careful, to obey Celene in everything, and to become the human noble girl’s friend.” And that she did. Briala grew up to be, in her own words, “one of Celene’s pieces” in the Game. She spent her days dressing Celene and serving her tea, as well as acting as her spy and wing-man.

“Briala had dressed Celene for the balls, badgering the servants to learn what the other ladies would be wearing and giving Celene a tiny edge where she could. Briala had stood to serve refreshments while Celene hosted the son of Comtess Jeannevere and then the son of Lady Mantillon herself, helping with tiny suggestions given through gestures learned from the Orlesian bards as Celene charmed the young men and won their support in her fight for the throne of the greatest empire in the known world. Briala had seen the flicker of boredom beneath the mask on Jeannevere’s son when Celene’s back was turned, and with a tiny gesture had guided Celene to be louder and more daring in her speech, catching the boy’s attention. Briala had seen how Lady Mantillon’s son kept stealing glances at Prince Reynaud’s sword on the wall, and had convinced Celene with a single look to turn her words to military history and capture young Lord Mantillon’s heart. Briala had been the one Celene hugged in fierce delight when Lady Mantillon extended the invitation to Celene for the first time since the death of her parents.”

Briala entirely defined herself by her use to Celene. To make things more complicated, they began a romantic relationship, adding on top of the blurred lines between servant and friend. Celene first kissed Briala while standing over the corpses of her dead parents, that Briala had no idea Celene arranged to be murdered… which really sums up their relationship, but if you want to know more, check out these posts: [Link] [Link] [Link]

Briala felt isolated from her people, and felt guilty over her privileges of being Celene’s handmaid. She even questioned if that made her a traitor to her race at one point. This only further tied her to Celene, and it’s not until Felassan started to point out otherwise that she began to question it. Because Briala definitely not a traitor. Briala used every bit of influence she had over Celene to try and improve things for elves.

“You say that she has helped the elves of Orlais,” Felassan said. “This is untrue. What gains they have made are due to your work, not hers.” “With respect—” “Oh, stop.” His voice was patient but firm, and he did not look over at her. “Without you, your empress would have been no friend to the elves. Even her rival Gaspard could see that.”

Briala truly believed in Celene. But of course, when push came to shove, Celene showed her true colours, and was wiling to sacrifice both Briala and the elves of Halamshiral without a second thought. Briala refused to forgive Celene for burning down the alienage, but Celene kept pushing. Briala was temporarily swayed back under Celene’s wing with promises that things would be different if only she helped her defeat Gaspard, but Briala then pieced together that this was just another move in the Game, and that Celene could not be trusted. Especially not after realizing it was Celene who had her parents murdered.

This all came at the same time that Briala was able to take control of the eluvians for herself, and declaring the magic recovered for the elves of Orlais.

“I would have freed them, Bria.” Celene stood a few paces away. Mihris and Felassan leaned against the pedestals, not quite blocking Celene’s path to Briala. “So you say,” Briala said. “But freedom is not given. It is won.” “It is both.” Celene shook her head, wiping tears from her eyes. She seemed so much smaller now than she had in Val Royeaux. “Have you seen nothing in all the years you spent at my side? Change comes through careful planning, through compromise.” “You compromised my parents.” There were tears in Celene’s eyes as she nodded, and without makeup or a mask, Briala could see the spots of red on Celene’s cheeks. “I was sixteen, Bria. The Game had just killed my mother, and my father had just died avenging her. I would have been killed had I not proven myself worthy to Lady Mantillon. For all I knew, you would have all died with me!” “And that was how you decided?” Briala asked, her voice even. “Sacrificing some to save the rest?” There was a time, she knew, when hearing Celene admit it would have broken her, stripping away everything Briala thought she knew about the world and her place in it. Now… it still hurt, of course, and Briala would shed tears later over it, for a long time to come. But she had endured worse pain in her life. “I…” Celene looked away. “The blood of your family is on my hands. What does it matter how I came to my decision?” Causes matter, Felassan had said. Briala knew that he was right, some of the time. But not now. “You more than proved yourself to Lady Mantillon. She supported you even when I killed her,” Briala said, and Celene started. “She could have taken me with her, but she stayed her hand. I always thought it was because she felt guilty about what she had done to my parents. But it was because I told her that I would serve you loyally. She saw that you had fooled me, and she did not wish, even to avenge her own death, to deprive you of a useful tool.” “You are not a tool, Bria.” “Not any longer.”

Briala redefined herself in her cause to personally stand up for freedom and equal rights for her people. With the key to the eluvian network, she now had power to do so. Briala is, at her core, an activist.

Personality

Briala spent her whole life trying to go unnoticed, in order to observe her surroundings discreetly. Being the centre of attention is new to her, and there’s a power there that she’s still learning to harness.

With that said, Briala possess natural leadership abilities, able to make quick and hard decisions, and able to map things out in her head meticulously. Briala does, after all, possess all the same bardic skills and knowledge of the Game that Celene was taught, as she sat in on all the lessons. She has a strong way with words, able to be very persuasive or very intimidating as she sees fit.

Briala does not scare easily, nor does she submit to pain easily. She often reflects that no matter how bad things get, she’s been through worse. She will purposely try to hold back her emotions in order to appear in total control of herself. She also displays a tone of confidence, even if behind the façade she is unsure.

Briala often speaks very shortly and directly, something that may come to the surprise of others playing the Game. This is, I suspect, done to purposely upset the balance of the nobles, as she has also shown capability of being indirect when she wants to, on rare occasion. Briala always observes before speaking, and chooses her words wisely. Her skills at observation are her biggest power play in directing a conversation how she wants it to go.

Briala is more often than not serious and sombre. She feels the weight of the world on her shoulders constantly, and that weight is heavy.

I would also say Briala may suffer from PTSD over the loss of her parents, with the way she experiences horrific “flashbacks” from reminders of the night they died.

#briala #dragon age #the masked empire #meta #ask

[saturnsstufff]

The Empress Pt.VI

I hope you all have a lovely day🖤🖤

Warnings: light hint to sexual innuendo, Swearing

   Its been about a couple of months now since we found Tommy. The palace was up in a baby craze due to the new little prince they inherited. Once we got past the first couple week's of tommy living with us, we saw his true nature. He was a nice and sweet kid, don't get me wrong. But oh, he was also a trouble maker.

   Tommy would often bounce between hanging around Wilbur, Techno, Phil and even you. When you would be working at the forge Tommy would sometimes just slip in unannounced and make himself comfortable on a spare stack of metal. You'd only really notice him when he would ask you what something was, or what it did.

   That was the new update as well. After returning Techno had requested that you practice making earrings. Saying that he wanted to see how dainty you could work. Of course you didn't mind, back at your village you would often make rings, pendants, and sometimes earrings for those who asked. So making him a earring was no fuss at all. 

   Techno did start to wonder around to the forge often. usually seeing what you were making or what you were in the process of. Sometimes he would even make off hand comments to make you laugh. Your favorite visit’s from him were always when he would bring tommy. The two would walk in, Tommy holding Techno’s finger as his hand was a little too big for the young boy to fully grasp.

   Since you were a familiar face around the palace Techno had stopped wearing his Skull. Instead replacing it with his all to familiar golden reading glasses. You still stood by the ideal that you preferred him with no skull. Since he was, to you, very handsome. You did find out later that the skull he wore was for outsiders. He didn't feel the need to show his face to those who wouldn't be present very long in the empire. Choosing instead to leave them with the impression that he was a monster of a man, rather than a young prince with a heart of gold. When you say he had a heart of gold, you meant it.

   Recently techno has really opened up around you, becoming more relaxed in your presence. Phil had mentioned that it would only be a matter of time before he did, and sure enough he was right. If you didn't have anything to do with the forge that day you would sometimes read within his office well he worked. He never made tones of disagreement, or ask that you leave, instead he would just watch you sit before offering a ‘Hello’. It had become something that you often looked forward too.

   You and Wil were still thick as thieves. Techno would rag on Wil about how you two could sit and talk for hours, before declaring that you were bored with each other. Only for you two to part then reconcile in the library a hour later. Techno couldn't understand it, but in the end just accepted it for what it was.

   You had just finished cleaning up the forge for the night when you herd some light pitter patter of feet. Tommy. You slowly turned to face him. He was in his night wear, obviously he had just gotten out of bed. he looked distraught however. “What’s up bud?” you asked, putting the tongs and the spare metal away. He slightly shifted in his spot, his little teddy bear behind him.

   “I had a nightmare” he quietly mumbled. your eyes softened. Ever since you three found him he would have a recurring nightmare about ‘loosing my new family’ as tommy put it. Usually when he had this dream he would seek Techno, or you out for his comfort. Since you two were mostly together when he would look.

   “Want me to read to you?” you asked, kneeling down to his level. His bright blue eyes dancing about. He gave a little nod. he put his arms out for you to carry him. you shyly smiled at him.

   “buddy I'm a bit dirty...” You said softly, unsure if he was ok with getting dirty right before bed. He only shook his head and said ‘I don't mind’ as a response. So you gently took him into your arms as you stood. He didn't hesitate to curl into your neck. you glanced back at the room that held the forge, you mentally shrugged figuring the rest could wait until tomorrow. With Tommy in your arms you wondered out, heading for his room. On the way there Techno crossed path’s with you.

   “Oh (y/n)” he said as he looked from you to tommy. he furrowed his brows, asking what was wrong without physically saying it. You mouthed out that it was a nightmare, Techno slowly nodded understanding. He rested is hand on tommy’s head giving a reassuring rub to it. “Not havin’ such a good night big man?” he asked gently. Tommy turned his head to look at Techno, slowly shaking his head. Techno pondered a moment as he watched tommy. slowly he gained a idea. “You wanna hear somthin’ cool?” he said with a small smile. tommy nodded in response, gripping to your shirt.

   “Can (y/n) come?” Tommy asked quietly, watching Techno's kind eyes. Techno patted Tommy’s head before he nodded.

   “Yeah I mean, I guess she can come. Only if you deem her cool enough that is” Techno mused, glancing to your eyes. you raised a brow in question, watching Techno bite back a playful smile. Tommy nodded again. “You think she’s cool enough?” Techno asked Tommy, having him confirm his nod. “Yeah I think she’s cool enough too” He said, ruffling your hair before he walked off. queuing you to fallow him. You smiled and fixed your hair before fallowing him. Instead of leading you towards Tommy’s room, he lead you two to the Library. “Go sit on the couch over there” Techno said, pointing to the sofa closest to the fire. You nodded and wondered over, curious of what Techno had planned. 

   when you sat, you adjusted tommy so he sat in your lap. he pulled his bear close to his chest, hugging it tightly well the two of you waited for Techno. Luckily he didn't take long. When he returned, he had a Violin in hand. He was casually tuning it well he walked. You tiled your head curiously at him. “I didn't know you played” you said to him. He sent a bemused smile to you. taking a relaxed stance.

   “Trust me Princess... There's a lot you don't know about me” He waisted no time on starting a soft tune. Well Tommy eased into you, slowly becoming entranced with the peaceful notes, you became more interested in how he swayed to the light swing of his arms. His hands ever so delate as he held the bow, dancing it along the strings. working the instrument to cry out a melody ever so sweet. His face was that of concentration, focused on finding the proper notes to lull his younger sibling to sleep. This was just another reason why you found Technoblade so interesting. He could talk politics and war strategies so easily, sounding like a primed veteran well past his years. But then he could retire to the library and look like a young boy falling in love with the craft he just found.

   Well Techno played away, his eyes fell to you. Tommy had fallen asleep in your arms, finding security within them. His teddy bear tightly locked within his own arms. When he glanced up to you he almost had the breath knocked from his lungs. You sat so beautifully. Your eyes were ever so soft well watching him. You looked at him like he was the most important thing you had ever seen. Your face held a little bit of dirt, and ash from the hard work you did for the day, but he didn't mind. He actually preferred it. Too many times had the Court tried to set him up with a prim, and proper woman. One that was elegant, clean, pure, dainty. But He didn't want that. He wanted strong, hands calloused, smudged makeup, sweat dripping, imperfect, but yet somehow at the same time, perfect. He wanted flaw. He wasn't perfect, he had scars, he wasn't the most handsome boy, he was often classified as too bulky, and too tall. He also couldn't be held back with someone who wanted him, to pamper and please. He wanted someone who would treat him as a equal, who praised his knowledge on war instead of shunning it. Someone who embraced the flaws of the world, and turned them into works of art. His eyes wondered back over you, you had moved your head down to check on tommy. Your fingers delicately tracing over Tommy's cheek. Brushing the curls from his face.

   You looked back up to techno as he came to a stop. “That was beautiful... Why didn't you tell me you played?” you asked softly. Being mindful of the toddler asleep in your arms. Techno slowly lowered the Violin to the couch.

   “I didn't think it was that important to bring up” He said, returning the soft tone. Well he sat the instrument down his eyes met yours. You couldn't help but feel drawn to his eyes, they looked like beautiful glass, the fire’s reflection dancing within, making his eyes dance lively. “If you would like to talk more we should take him to bed first” he said, his eyes flickering to Tommy. You nodded slowly.

   “Right, of course.”

   After Techno and you had put Tommy to bed it was well into the night. Most of the servants and palace guards had retired to their beds, making way for the changing of the guards. Techno and you weren't really feeling the effects of sleep yet. Rather the two of you wanted to stay within each others company longer. Techno had walked you you to the garden, having snatched two blankets from the library before wondering out into the cold. Techno, having no where to be ended up taking his hair out from his braid. replacing it with a lower pony tail, giving his hair a moment of freedom from it’s confinement.

   The garden was beautiful. They couldn't grow flowers of course, but there were elegant sculptures that replaced them. in the middle of the whole garden was a artesian well fountain. although long frozen when the two of you passed by you could hear the water running within the ice. It was peaceful to walk with Techno. It was rare when the two of you would make late night walks. Usually you would take them during the day, or after dinner. But nothing past 10 o’clock mostly. 

   “So what’s something else I should know about you?” You inquired to him. He smiled to himself before turning to you. 

   “Are you really going to start school yard type questions with me?” He teased. You smiled and lightly laughed. He was smiling at you, admiring how you looked when you laughed.

   “Yeah, yeah I guess I am. You going to answer them?” You couldn't help but tease back. He chuckled and hummed.

   “Mmn. Maybe” he said bemused.

   “What’s your favorite color?” You asked, now aiming for the most basic questions just to make him laugh in turn. He leaned onto the railing that over looked the kingdom, pondering a moment.

   “Red’s a nice color, Or Plum Purple” He said looking at you. Taking a moment to ask you a question in turn. “Besides the forge what do you like to do?” You sat and thought a moment. 

   “I like to read, Action and Romance are a lot of fun” you mused, earning a laugh from him.

   “Romance eh? Waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet? Lamee” he said jokingly. You laughed and took a swat at his chest. 

    “Oh hush up, I bet you’d like someone to sweep you off your feet Techno” You said, your eyes scanning the horizon. He sat and thought on your words a moment.

   “Eh not particularly. Only lame nerds think of that” He said, turning, heading back for the garden door’s. you scoffed and laughed a bit. 

   “Jerk” you said between laughs. You were going to fallow, but then you had a wicked idea. You scooped up some snow in your hand and bit your lip trying to muffle your laugh. once you had a decent snowball you threw it at him. Bullseye. You had nailed him in the back of the head. He went still, You were a giggling mess now.

   “Oh, your in for it now Princess” He said, smirking has he turned. Running after you, his blanket long discarded as he ran to grab you. You squealed out laughing, running from him, discarding your blanket too. You didn't get far before he hooked his arm around your torso, pulling you into his chest well you flapped about like a fish. “Your gonna’ be pullin’ snow out of your shirt for a week when I'm done with ya’!” he said Laughing. Picking snow up before putting it on your head. Some of it even went down your shirt. You flopped about, laughing the whole time until he dropped you into the snow bank. He laughed at you and how you were practically buried within the snow. This only fueled your fire. you threw two more snowball’s the first one missed, but the second one he grabbed out of mid air. You tried to free yourself from the snow bank before he came over to you, but it was no use. he climbed into the bank and shoved the snow down the back of your shirt. But this time you caught him off guard. You grabbed his arm and pulled. setting him off balance so he fell into the snow. Now it was your turn to laugh. tossing more snow onto him. It didn't take him long to recover of course, he simply rolled and grabbed your arms. Pinning them down to the snow. His body hovered over yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His face was that of pure joy, the long stoic look gone. he was at his happiest with you right now. He looked down at you, smiles adorning both of your faces. You two were happy. Happy with the moment, you just wanted it to last as long as it could. Well you two looked into each other’s eyes everything else lost meaning.

   Without you two realizing, Phil watched above from one of the windows. He was smiling fondly at the little snowball war you just had. whether Techno had realized it yet or not, Phil did. Techno cared for you. Phil saw how he looked at you. During dinners, Lunches, casual talks, or even when the two of you hung out together. Techno looked at you with pure love and adoration. Phil knew if anyone was capable of wining Techno’s love it was going to be you. You were a hard worker, You cared for Techno’s brothers, got along well with all the servants, were mindful and respective of Techno's space, you also had enough spunk to rise up and toss back the teasing he threw. Phil knew this was the beginning of a love story.

   After your snowball fight with techno the two of you did end up going back inside rather quickly. Well Techno may have not been cold, you were definitely cold after all that. You could feel the snow melting on your back, the drops of water running down your skin. But that didn't stop Techno from walking beside you. The two of you walked side by side, your arms around each other to share the warmth. The lingering giggles were etched onto your faces in wide smiles.

   “I didn't hurt you at all, right?” Techno asked, double checking incase he was too rough. You shook your head smiling. Drawing your side of the blanket- that was wrapped around you both- closer to preserve the upcoming heat.

   “Nah, I coulda’ have taken ya’ if you had stayed above me more” Techno laughed fondly. Amused with your spurt of spunk.

   “Oh really now? You think you could take me?” This was now your turn to giggle. purposefully running into his side, shoving him lightly.

   “Mmn.. I think I could have found a way” You said looking up towards your room. You had offered to walk techno to his room, but he declined. He said he would feel better if ‘The lady was at her room safely’. You didn't mind, you figured next time you would walk him to his room in turn to make it even, maybe fire back with ‘I must make sure the young prince is safe’.

   He chuckled bemused. “If you really have that much spunk maybe I should teach you sword play, or maybe something more military related. you tilted your head up to him curiously. 

   “You would teach me something?” You asked, semi surprised, but also heart warmed that he would take time aside for you.

   “Of course, Princess. I’ll teach you anything you want” He looked down to you as he spoke. He was smiling gently. His tone was fond as he addressed you. “Now don't think I’ll go easy on you though” 

   “Oh, I didn't think you would” You said, resting your hand on the door handle, opening it. “Would you wanna come in and warm up a bit?” You inquired, looking up to him. He went a faint pink before biting back a shit eating grin.

   “Princess... Young men shouldn't be within young ladies chambers during such late hours... Unless, your trying to bed me?” He leaned on your door way. Biting back the largest grin. “Are you trying to bed me, Princess? I knew you had gotten some spunk but I never thought-” You laughed as he teased, going a bit red. trying to wave it off.

   “No- No, you know what I mean-” He laughed and cut you off.

   “Oh no, I know exactly what you mean” You smiled leaning on your door, looking up at him.

   “Are you done?” You asked giggling. He hummed, his face towards yours as he shifted a little closer.

   “Maybe” He said amused. “Go get some sleep, and warm up. I'm going to teach you sword play tomorrow” Your eyes lit up. Taking in a small gasp of excitement.

   “Are you really?” You asked almost unsure that he was still teasing.

   “I mean, Only if that interests you...” He said, his eyes lingering yours. You nodded fast and hugged him without much thought. Techno couldn't help the blood that ran to his face. He lightly cleared his throat as he rested his arms on you. A bit hesitant at first, but he slowly relaxed into your hold. Now understanding why Tommy liked to hug you a lot.

   “Thank you...” You mumbled into his chest.

   You swore if techno knocked you off your feet one more time you were going to find a way to shove his pretty head in the snow.

   Techno was a monster- in the sense of strength. You thought when fighting him, it would be a mutual teaching before he actually started going ham on you. But no, he literary just started striking with no hesitation. Only when he had your swords in a lock did you voice your lag.

   "Tech, please can we ease up?" You pleadded. He only watched you briefly. His inner General having come out a while ago.

   "Your strong. You can take it" he said sharply. Earning a whine from you. You weren't strong. You didn't do this on a daily. You only made the swords. But he was pushing you. Pushing your strength, and your nerves for one.

   "Techno I'm not strong, I- I've never done this-" he grabbed your sword and threw it away from you. Putting his own away. He grabbed your arm and pulled it to him. Pushing your sleeves up.

   "Flex your arm." He commanded. You hesitated, looking up at him. "Don't look at me like that. I said flex your arm" you slowly did as he said. Drawing your fist, and flexing your arm. He grabbed your bicep and squeezed a bit. "Notice how hard it is?" You nodded slowly. A slight sting from where he squeezed. "That's pure muscle. You are stronger than you realize. If you convince yourself that you are weak or that you cannot do this, then that's what will become of you" he paused his eyes flashing to yours. "I understand that you are no warrior, but you have strength. As soon as you stop telling yourself that you are weak, you will make progress." He pulled your sleeve down, fixing it for you. "Rome wasn't built over night, Princess. It took time, planning, care, and had to show promise. When I look at you, I see great promise."

   When he released your arm you walked over to pick your sword up. Techno readying his stance again. However, before you could break into another spar Phil had wondered out.

   "Ay' Techno you have a letter on your desk. You may want to read it" Phil said with a bit of concern. Techno dropped his stance his brow furrowing. He gave a 'Heh?' In confusion. He glanced to you and to Phil.

   “Can it wait a bit? I'm in the middle of teaching” Phil shook his head slowly. Techno paused as he thought a bit. "If I go, could you teach (y/n) a bit more? She feel's I'm too strong for her." He mused. His military side slowly fading away for his more domestic side.

   "I suppose so." Phil said with a gentle smile. Techno gathered his things and ruffled your hair before leaving. Phil turned his attention towards you. "What has he showed you?" Phil inquired, walking over to you.

   "Nothing besides showing me the ground.. seriously my back hurts.." you whined. Phil chuckled lightly at you.

   "I should have known. Here I'll teach you some basic's" Before long Phil had you doing simple moves and stances. Things he felt would be easy for you to ace. After a while you got a bit curious.

   "Why does techno think I can pick this up so easy? He fights so hard" You questioned. Looking over to Phil. He hummed a moment well he pondered.

   "I uh, think that he just wants you to be able to defend yourself. He knows your strong, and besides. He thinks pretty highly of you, y'know'" you went a bit wide eyed. Techno thinks highly of you?

   You looked to Phil with a bit of shock on your face. "He does?" He nodded, Smiling gently. Phil gently took the sword from your hands and hung it on the wall with the others.

   Since you within the training hall, there was a plethora of weapons and armor of all kinds. The room was large, made for incasing many people. But the detail never faltered. The floor was of stone, pillars lining the outside to support a second floor. The ceiling was framed with gold, dark oak and a smooth white to open the room up more. It was a good place to spar and just ramble off thoughts.

   "Oh, of course. He's said it multiple times to me. That's why he was fine with you coming with us to the mansion. Don't think that he hasn't been paying attention to you on the daily." Phil said looking up to you.

   "He watches me?" You furrowed your brow slightly. Phil saw and continued.

   "Not in the creepy way. He just takes notes of things you do, say you like, ect. He knows your kind with tommy, that you are very organized with your work. Your very detail oriented. He's become quite smitten with you" Phil chuckled. Finding it all amusing.

   You were taken aback by this. You thought you two had a good friendship, but it looks like he's paid a lot of attention to you after all. It started to dawn on you. 'I don't really know much about him' you thought to yourself. Sure you knew his mom passed, his favorite color. But you never really dove into his personal life much beyond that. Maybe it was time you got to know him more. "If I wanted to know more about him... could I ask him?" You asked, looking up at Phil. He patted your head and started walking with you towards the hall.

   "Of course. Something tells me he wouldn't turn you away." Phil said, biting a smile back. He remembered you two last night playing within the snow. He knew Techno would never turn you away, he was in love with you, even if techno wasn't aware of it.

   After dinner you wondered towards Techno's office. You wanted to talk to him, get to know him better. You know he was powerful and kind, but you wanted to know more. What was his ambitions? His hopes, fears. You just wanted more.

   When you walked up to the doors you carefully knocked, hearing talking within. When you herd the 'come in' you pushed the doors open. Techno was sat in his chair per usual, he had his reading glasses on with papers on his desk. When you entered he complied them together neatly. Setting them aside for later. However there was also a rather tall woman. she was beautiful, dripping with total control. Her hand was rested on her sword. When she turned to face you. You saw Her face, It was hard but something told you their was more too her. Her skin looked like it was kissed by the sun himself. She looked like she wasn't from here, but the way she dressed herself in armor told you elsewise.

   "Hello (y/n)" techno said. The woman glanced to Techno and back to you. She offered a kind smile. "This is General Hawthorne, she's my leading General of the Empires army. I don't believe you two have met before" He said formally. Not having the tone he normally used with you.

   She offered her hand. "Its nice to finally meet you (y/n). His Imperial Majesty said we would have a new Blacksmith. But I never expected someone as young as you" Her smile was warm. When you took her hand to shake it you were shocked with the grip she had. Under her glove you could feel some rings digging into your hand. "Don't worry about addressing me as Hawthorne. Seraphina is fine, or Sarah" you nodded smiling to return hers. Wanting her to drop your hand, her grip a tad to much.

   "Its a pleasure to meet you, too" you said looking up to her. She turned back to Techno, taking a scroll from his desk.

   "I'll see you there then sire" Sarah said, smiling before she walked out. You watched her go, your eyes lingering on the door as you thought. Turning back to Techno.

Techno took his reading glasses off and set them aside on his desk. Leaning back in his chair. When he looked up at you his eyes softened, his tone also becoming casual. "What do you think about weddings?".

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave @sugarandspicebutnonice @bambibunz @lynnarts @buzzybeebee @feathersthewinged @prefesro

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you #TE

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part One

Prologue | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: Oh hey there! Welcome to Dany Has Been Googling Art Stuff For Like Two Months The Series. Warnings: Cursing (meant to mention that before WHOOPSADOODLE sorry) Summary: You’d never seen Agent Pike look anything less than collected, even in the thick of a case. 

“The Raft of the Medusa, huh?”

You didn‘t bother to look away from your laptop where you were stationed at your lectern.

“Géricault did good work,” You answered as you finished answering the email that you were working on. You knew that this couldn’t be a terribly timely or pressing matter, because the FBI agent that had shown up had bothered to sit through the second half of your lecture that morning. 

“How long have you guys been up to romanticism?” He asked.

“Oh, just this week. Géricault’s got a good range...Landscapes, horses, portraits… horses... current events… horses…”

“Lots of horses.”

“Yeah, he was kind of a horse girl.” 

You finally sent the email off and turned to look at Agent Marcus Pike. The man was, mercifully, still looking at the recreation of the Géricault painting. 

“This one of your old ones?” He asked. You laughed a little, leaning against the lectern. 

“No. I’ve got a friend in Atlanta that specializes in recreations of Delacroix and Géricault.” 

“He’s talented. I’ve seen the original, this is… Incredible.” 

“Mm, I know. The corpses almost look happy in this version.”

Pike’s brow rose and he gave you a look out of the corner of his eye.

“So?” You asked, “How can I aid the bureau today, Agent Pike?” 

He gave a small smile, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he turned to face you more fully.

“I’m actually not here on bureau business,” he told you, peering at you nervously. Your brows rose. You’d never seen Agent Pike look anything less than collected, even in the thick of a case. 

“You’ve got my attention,” You reassured him. 

--

You were trying so hard not to laugh, if not for the earnest look on Pike’s face. You watched him as you ran your finger along the handle of your coffee mug. The two of you had taken up residence at your favorite coffee shop and bakery, There Ain’t Muffin To It. It was a little out of the way of the college’s campus, but you preferred that - you hardly ever ran into your students that way.

Pike had insisted on paying for your coffee, and then he’d explained his… Situation. 

His fucking hilarious situation that you were really, really trying not to laugh at. 

“So…Just-- To make sure I’m on the level here,” You said, “Your sister Marnie is getting married in two weeks, and she was probably going to set you up with some cute hometown girl, and instead…” You had to pause, biting your lip to tamp down a laugh before going on, “Instead, you told her that you’re bringing… Me.” 

“That is the long and short of it.”

“And can I ask what possessed you to blurt out the name of an ex-fencer-turned-art-professor?” 

“I panicked and I was looking at the Coleman file.”

“Ah,” You nodded. You’d assisted Pike’s team on that case. A man named Augustus Coleman had recently come forward, claiming to have found Oudry’s White Duck. The work had, in fact, been a fake (though it was a very, very convincing one). You’d spent time with Agent Pike, looking over the painting itself and helping his team track down Coleman’s forger. It had been a lot of long nights, a lot of hard work, but Pike had given you implicit trust, and you’d gotten the job done. 

And now, apparently, he was trusting you with this, too. 

“I don’t… Lie well,” Marcus added, and you couldn’t help but laugh then. 

“I can see that.”

Marcus smiled, “I know this is an inconvenience. I wouldn’t ask you to fly down for the week I’m gonna be there--”

“But you’d want to?” 

Marcus winced, “My sister’s already passed your name on to my mom and I’m getting questions. You could just come in for the weekend. I’d pay for your airfare,” He tacked on. 

“Wow, you are desperate.” 

“What you said, about my sister setting me up with some-- hometown girl? It’s accurate, I’m pretty sure I know exactly who she would’ve tried to set me up with.”

“Bad?”

“No, she’s nice, but we don’t suit and Marnie hasn’t quite gotten that message.” 

Your brow furrowed, considered something. 

“Tell me something,” You leaned forward on your forearms, watching Marcus.

“Sure.”

“You could've found someone else to bring along, asked them to use my name and fake it to your family for two days. You’re actually asking me instead. Why?” 

Marcus’ eyes searched your face.

“Couple of reasons. Remember a minute ago when I said I was bad about lying?” 

You chuckled, “Uh-huh. The other reason?” 

“I need to go down there with someone that I trust. Someone that I know will have my back.”

“And someone that can lie?” 

“Exactly. See what you just said, about asking someone else to use your name? Didn’t even occur to me.”

You were quiet for a moment, considering Pike. The week that he’d named for the wedding was spring break-- you didn’t have any plans set in stone, just papers to grade. 

“...Can I think about it?” You asked. Marcus’ smile brightened at that. 

“Of course,” He nodded, “I appreciate it.” 

You believed that-- the man couldn’t lie for shit. 

-- 

That evening found you in your apartment, grading quizzes for your Intro to Greek and Roman Art course. Most of the students had a good handle on the subject, so the grading and corrections didn’t take you long. Once you’d finished, you poured yourself a glass of wine and settled down on your couch to find something to watch for the evening. 

Once you’d chosen a show, though, you really couldn’t focus on it. You had, after all, told Marcus that you’d consider his proposal. You were...Fond of Agent Pike. The agents that you’d worked with prior to his transfer to the D.C. office had all treated you with varying degrees of contempt when asking for your help on a given case; they’d kept your interactions to the barest of bare minimums, held you at arm’s length in regards to the cases that you were being asked to assist on, and hardly ever updated you on case outcomes - not that they were required to do so, but you had often wondered. Marcus Pike was so different from his predecessors. When he’d come to the D.C. office and had first needed your help on a case, he’d gone out of his way to introduce himself, the particulars of the case, and to say that, “any assistance that you could provide would be greatly appreciated.” And it hadn’t felt glib, either. You’d felt like the man actually wanted your help, wasn’t that he was just reaching out to you to cover his bases. You’d assumed that after that first case, the niceties would fall away, but Marcus had never been anything less than kind to you - even when he was stressed. He treated you with respect, understood that your time was your own, that you’d put your criminal past behind you. You were now using what you’d learned in that world to help the Bureau, and to teach.

The time you’d spent with him on the Coleman case had been the biggest eye-opener. He’d come to understand more about how you used to operate - the way you’d sold forgeries to money-grubbing, self-involved wealthy elites that cared more about owning a one-of-a-kind artwork, uncaring of where it had come from or why you had it; they hadn’t cared about the questionable and fake provenance, had only looked so close when examining the work itself. Your grandmother had been a painter, and a masterful forger - she had been the one to paint most of the forgeries that you’d helped to fence. She had taught you her tricks, connected you with the network that she operated within - she had gotten you arrested, and had been furious when you hadn’t taken the fall for her. You and Marcus had spent a lot of time together during the Coleman case - mostly working, but you’d had some downtime. There were times when he insisted that you sat down and ate, else the food would get cold. Others, when he had a question, he’d come to your office at the college, but he’d bring coffee with him, or some kind of snack - a little way of showing thanks before he even asked his question, even if you didn’t have an answer for him. Marcus was a good man. It was no wonder he needed help lying, especially to his family. Something he’d said to you that afternoon had stuck with you, though, something that was floating above the rest: “I need to go down there with someone that I trust. Someone that I know will have my back.” Marcus Pike trusted you. He was comfortable with you having his back - he was comfortable with you being around his family for a week. 

You picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts to find Marcus’. You hit the ‘call’ button before raising it to your ear. He picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” He asked, and you smiled at the anticipatory tone. “Think they’ve still got any seats left on your flight?” You asked. Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​ ; @elen-aranel​​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​​ ; @artsymaddie​​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​​ ; @lunaserenade​​ ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne​​ ; @randomness501​ ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb​

#The Long Con #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike Fic #Marcus Pike imagine

[liyuesbian]

✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

#ningguang #ningguang au #ningguang angst #ningguang x reader #ningguang headcanons #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin headcanons #genshin au #pygmalion au #ningguang imagines #genshin imagines

[nalgenewhore]

blossom's blooming

elide x lorcan, modern au, fluff + flowers, word count: 1582

Up above in the blue sky, the sun was shining and it cast a glorious warmth upon the city. The cool breeze from the Florine River kept the citizens from being baked alive as they strolled home. Elide, who was a devout public transit kind of girl, decided that she would enjoy the early June weather by walking home.

Usually, she’d have her headphones on, playing whichever tune she was obsessing over at that moment, but today she wanted to enjoy the human conversations around her. Elide was walking through Orynth’s vibrant artisan quarter, each shop cuter than the last. She stopped to peruse a few but didn’t end up buying anything until she saw Viola, a darling little florist booth.

She knew the owner, Lyria, quite well and spotted her in the back by the counter, wrapping up someone’s bouquet. “Lia?”

The woman startled, most likely having forgotten that anyone could walk right into her shop. Her shock melted into kind familiarity, “Elide, hello!” She snipped the ribbon she’d tied with a pair of small scissors and made her way through the rows of flora to greet Elide. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Elide said, looking around at the various flowers and other plants. “How are you, how’s everything?”

They spent a few minutes catching up as they hadn’t seen each for some time. Lyria led Elide to the back so she could continue with her orders and their conversation wouldn’t be interrupted. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Elide tilted her head to the side, eyes on a bundle of delicate harebells. The same flowers were native to the Northern Isles, where Lorcan had grown up. “You know, do you think you could make something small with those harebells?”

Lyria turned to look at the flowers in question and smiled, nodding as she moved to pick the bucket up. “Of course. Are they for Lorcan, then?”

The dark-haired woman nodded, a smitten smile twisting her lips. “Yeah. He likes those flowers.” The harebells had a cup-like quality, their pale blue and purple petals bending down.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Elide gave Lyria complete licence to arrange which flowers she saw fit and ten minutes later, she’d paid for an elegant bouquet, nothing too big or full. She thanked Lyria and carried them in the crook of her arm for the rest of her walk home.

The apartment was locked when she got home, meaning that Lorcan was either still at work or on his way home. He had this habit of never locking the door behind him and sometimes not even closing it. The first time Elide had arrived home to the door open, she’d thought that something horrible had happened, like Lorcan had surprised a couple robbers who’d then killed him.

She put her work bag down, toed her shoes off, and walked into their kitchen. Elide laid the flowers down on the counter and carefully climbed up onto the surface to reach the vase up above the cabinet. She hopped down, landing delicately.

Elide filled the vase up and mixed in the packet of powder that came with the bouquet before snipping the ties. She put the flowers in and fussed over them for a couple minutes until they were arranged to her liking.

<3<3<3

Lorcan parked in front of their building, as they didn’t have a parking garage, and stepped out with his bag, locking the car behind him.

He slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he approached the lobby doors and pressed the button next to his unit number.

A few moments later, his girlfriend’s voice crackled through, “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

“Oh, hey, you.”

Lorcan arched his brow up, “You sound surprised. Expecting someone else, were you?”

Elide laughed, “Like what, a sugar daddy?”

“s’not unheard of, Lee. How else would we afford our extravagant lifestyle?”

“Gods, you’re ridiculous,” she muttered, clicking her tongue. The lobby doors buzzed as they unlocked. “Get up here already, dummy.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lorcan moved towards the doors and pulled them open, walking towards the mailboxes. Elide often forgot to check theirs, so he’d developed a habit of checking them himself. He unlocked the metal door and pulled out a stack of envelopes, shifting through them as he walked towards the elevator.

Most of them were bills and notices, nothing interesting. Lorcan pressed the elevator button and the doors opened a moment later. He stepped in and glanced around to see if anyone else needed to get on. When he didn’t see anyone, Lorcan pushed the knob for the fifth floor and leaned against the back wall.

The ride was smooth and silent save for the whirrs of the cables and wheels of the elevator. A short time later, the ride stopped and the doors slid open. He walked out, nodding in greeting to one of their neighbours.

Lorcan arrived at their apartment and knocked on the door. The sound of Elide’s footsteps padding down the hall made him smile, one corner of his mouth higher than the other.

The lock clicked as it was turned and then the door was opened, revealing a small woman. She beamed up at him, lifting onto the tips of her toes as she slid her hands up his arms. “Hi.”

He grinned, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her in, and he bent his head to meet her kiss. “Hi.”

Elide pulled away first, her slender eyes bright. “Hi.”

“You said that already,” he told her, unable to stop himself from stealing one last kiss. “Hi.”

She pushed herself out of his hold and tugged him inside, leaning around him to shut the door. “How was your day?”

Lorcan shrugged, putting his bag down. “Nothing special. You?”

“It was good. I walked home ‘cause it was so nice outside.”

They continued to chat about banal things as they moved further into the apartment. Lorcan went to their bedroom to change and picked up her clothes to toss them in the laundry bin alongside his. As he walked out, he twisted his long hair into a mass on the top of his head and secured it with an old elastic.

Elide was at the stove, cooking something. She didn’t notice him until he slipped his arms around her waist, curving his shoulders to rest his chin on her head. “Whatcha making?”

“Pasta,” she said, resting her hand on his forearm. “Sounds good?”

Lorcan nodded, moving to kiss the top of her head. “Mm-hmm.”

“Did you see the table? I got something.”

He stood up straight, turning to look at their dining table. A vase was sitting in the middle, carrying a bundle of pale blue and white flowers. Lorcan stepped away from Elide, assuming that they’d been a gift for her and that there would be a note somewhere near them. He looked around the base of the container, found nothing, and started looking through the flowers.

Still, he didn’t find anything and began to look at them suspiciously, head tilted to the side.

Elide turned away from the stove to watch him, an amused smile tugging across her face.

Lorcan delicately fingered one of the harebells, seeming wary. “Nice flowers.”

“Do you like them?”

He nodded, making a noise in the back of his throat. “Did I forget something? Your birthday’s not for another two weeks, sweetheart.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, you didn’t forget anything. I bought them – they’re for you.”

His head snapped up and his eyes widened. “They’re mine? My flowers?”

Elide nodded, propping her hand on her hip. “Yeah, yours.” Slowly, curiously, Lorcan looked at the bouquet again. Incredulous laughter bubbled up from her lips, “What, it’s like you’ve never gotten flowers before!”

He could feel his cheeks heating, for whatever reason. Lorcan flicked his eyes to the side, mumbling as he shifted on his feet, “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Hmm? Will you say that again?” She moved closer.

“I’ve never gotten flowers before,” he repeated, his voice louder. “Nobody ever bought them for me.”

“Wait, really?” Elide asked.

He nodded, slowly lifting his eyes to hers. “Is that bad?”

She shrugged, putting the wooden spoon down on the counter. Elide moved towards him, “I don’t know, I like getting flowers. Everyone should get them, aren’t they nice?” She fit herself against his side, resting her hand against his lower stomach.

Lorcan curled his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “They are. Thank you, sweetheart.” He reached out to touch them again, “You know, we have these flowers at home.”

“I know, that’s why I got them,” she said, leaning the side of her head against him. “Lyria had them.”

“Can we get more?”

Elide laughed gently and nodded, “Of course we can.”

<3<3<3

the cadre

Lorcan: Photo Attachment Lorcan: lee got me flowers. Sent 20:13

Fenrys: WHAT. Fenrys: Nehemia never gets me flowers Fenrys: I want flowers those look cool Sent 20:16

Vaughan: lmao con buys me flowers every week 😎 Vaughan: the gays stay winning 🥶😈💪 Connall “❤” This Message Sent 20:17

Fenrys: shut UP VAUGHAN NO ONE CARES ABOUT UR FLOWERS WE CARE ABOUT LORCANS FLOWERS Sent 20:17

Rowan: Wait guys can get flowers? Rowan: BRB. Have to ask Aelin something. Sent 20:19

Connall: ask her where she got those im bored of my florist Sent 20:21

<3<3<3

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[writewithurheart]

Hearts of Kyber

a/n: Hello lovely readers!! I’ve been working on this work for the last couple months (and especially the last couple days). It has been an absolute pleasure working with these amazing artists who are astounding. I hope you love what we’ve put together!!

Corporalki: @kazandthecrows

Materialki: @anubem (art link) @generalstarkov (art link) @pijoshi (art link) @mitdemadlerimherzen (art link | art link 2) @erandraws (art link) @nannadoodles (art link) 

Summary: When an Imperial pilot defects, the Rebellion sends its best spies to find out what he knows. They discover the existence of a planet-destroying weapon known as the Death Star and a scientist who holds the secrets to its only weaknesses. Guided by the pilot, Wylan, and a former storm trooper, Matthias, Kaz Brekker leads a team to uncover the secret that can save the Rebellion before it’s crushed for good.

A Grishaverse Rogue One AU for the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 

Read on AO3 or below the cut 

Part I

Inej barely remembers those early days with her family living in the heart of a city. She gets flashes of memories - playing with dolls, toddling after her father, parties full of boring adults who couldn’t care less about her. What she thinks of when she remembers her family is what came after: the travelling band of performers they joined. It’s there that she felt comfortable. The troupe was her family: they encouraged her, taught her tricks of the trade, and were the ones who trained her as an acrobat. They travelled from system to system, performing in cities and small villages alike, on hot planets and cold. She had careful rules to follow about her interactions whenever they landed. 

Despite all the restrictions, she remembers feeling carefree. The caravan was her domain and she was empress. The day her life changed was just like any other. She remembers her mother running a hand over her hair, whispering that they were going down into town. Her sleepy head full of cotton can’t remember her exact words, just the feeling of warmth, the comfort of routine. Only recently - on her eighth birthday - had she earned the right to sleep in instead of joining her parents’ customary outing.  

Sometimes in her waking hours, she forgets that happened years ago and in her half-waking state she thinks she can still hear her mother’s soothing whisper and her father patting her hand as he tucks her treasured stuffed bear under the blankets of her bed so she has company. 

Inej’s eyes fly open as the harsh lights of simulated daylight jolt her unrelentingly from her sleep into the cold reality of her life. 

She rolls up to a seated position and runs her arm over her sleepy face. She makes no effort to make herself presentable and glares at her arm with the repulsive peacock feather tattoo. It’s been eight years since that morning when her whole life burned around her, her whole extended family vanished in the blink of an eye and she was sold into the slave markets of the Hutts before she was even aware what that meant. 

“Inej Ghafa, the mistress will see you now,” a mechanical voice says over the speaker hidden in her room. Luxurious drapes and curtains cover the mechanical aspects of the room, but can’t hide the prison-like nature of a room without windows in a pleasure house. This has always been Inej’s cage. 

Of course, to the Empire, this isn’t slavery. She has an indenture that she’s working off, this was a choice she made. Inej stands. The words are bullshit. It’s a pretty story told by those who believe themselves to be above such terrible things just because they use different words. Inej is old enough to know what happens in the different rooms of the pleasure house she currently calls home, but still too young to be expected to participate fully. But she knows her days are numbered. 

Girls in this trade grow up quickly. She’s still a tease, only suffering a a groping hand here, a leer there, the occasional bit of voyeurism which makes her skin prickle and means she can never feel comfortable in any room, including her own.

Inej dresses with practiced movements in the ridiculous trappings Madam Helene requires. There are far too many bells on the outfit, too many dangling bits that can tangle for it to really be the exotic outfit Helene claims the clients want. She hates the way the silk feels against her skin when it used to mean the soothing comfort of performance attire. 

For now, her role is to just be an ornamentation for the pleasure house, but madame makes sure she knows what could happen the moment she steps a toe out of line. She’s not above selling Inej off before her time, the cost of which would do nothing to lower the exorbitant cost of her supposed indenture.  

Inej keeps her head down and walks quickly to the main room. In the early hours, there are few patrons who might be looking for a companion, but Inej has learned to keep her head down in any case. She’s short and skinny - underdeveloped to most tastes - so aren’t many interested in her and the ones that are she should avoid with even more care.  

There’s a boy in the room with Helene: a boy with a familiar cane. Inej is so surprised to see him that she forgets to look away meekly when his dark eyes meet hers. She tilts her head in curiosity. Last she saw, he was slipping out of a back hallway which she knew allowed Helene to eavesdrop on clients as they spent the night with girls, or that she offered to well-paying customers who took pleasure from that sort of thing. 

He looks just as cold as he did that night, but she vividly remembers the surprise in his eyes when she spoke from over his shoulder. He wasn’t a regular customer at the brothel but he was on good terms with a couple members of the staff and she’d seen him exchange kruge for information on more than one occasion. Last she saw him, she’d offered him help. 

“Ah, there’s my little Suli Lioness.” Madam Helene smiles benevolently, but her perfume chokes Inej as she wraps an arm around her. “Inej, do you know who this is?” 

“They call him Dirtyhands,” she answers, voice proper and meek as Helene likes. All the other girls have told her not to ask questions any time she tries to find out more. She can’t help but wonder if offering herself to him was a mistake, but she knows this place will kill her if she doesn’t find a way out. 

“Hmm…,” Madame hums. She turns to the boy with a set face and Inej’s chest tightens in apprehension. “I’m afraid your offer will not be accepted, Mr. Brekker. Inej is precious to me.” Her bejeweled fingers dig into Inej’s shoulder. “I couldn’t possibly part with her.” 

The boy raises an impeccable eyebrow. “I was under the impression our negotiations were finalized.” 

Helene releases an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, you silly boy. Did you know the Empire has offered quite the reward for you?” 

Inej tenses. She knows that Madame is fickle in her alliances, but she’s never openly invited storm troopers into her house: they don’t pay well. 

“You’d better run, little boy, if you want to get out of here before they can grab you.” 

Two doors into the main room slide open with a whoosh of air to reveal armored bodies with blasters levelled at the boy. Inej’s quick eyes note that the door closest to Brekker has no guard, instead being left clear if he wants to escape. If she were him, she would be running but instead he looks bored as he stares back at Madame. He lifts his wrist to check his time piece, an old fashioned analog device that hasn’t been used in decades. 

There’s a pulse of static followed by a volley of blaster shots. Inej jerks down out of the way but is shocked to see that none of the shots were aimed at them. 

“You should have taken the money, Helene,” the boy shaking space dust from his jacket. “We could have continued this lucrative partnership.” 

Madame pales and looks around at the rumpled crew of men who are all standing around. Most have holstered their guns, but a tall dark-skinned man walks up to them and gestures Helene back away from Inej. Madame drops her grip as if she can’t get her distance fast enough. She turns to the boy. 

“Please! You have to understand, the troopers would have killed me if I didn’t.” 

The boy looks at her impassively before shrugging. “Per Haskell is still willing to buy out her indenture. I’m sure we can agree on a more reasonable price.” 

Inej snorts. She can’t help it. They’re literally haggling over the price of her indenture after not killing one another. Frankly, it’s ridiculous. The boy looks over at her. Although his face is a mask which reveals no secrets, Inej sees a hint of amusement lurking in his dark eyes before he focuses again on Madame Helene. 

“Congratulations,” the dark-skinned man who shooed Madame Helene away says, leaning down to her, even as his eyes stay on the boy and madam. “You’re being rescued.” 

She looks around at the rag tag group she’s now willing to bet are Rebellion spies and wonders if this will actually be any better. Beyond them, she spots a couple of Helene’s girls with their bloodshot eyes, thin skin and haunted looks. It’s enough to remind her that is it. This is what she wants: a chance to save her father and get revenge on the Empire which has caused her so much pain. 

Inej straightens as much as she can. It looks like she’s joining the rebellion. 

...

Three years later… 

“You ever wonder if Kaz is actually a demon?” Jesper asks speculatively. He points his blaster to the sky and stares down the barrel. It’s in the best possible order he can make it. The sights are calibrated, the lazer refined and the trigger pull smooth. He couldn’t ask for a better weapon. 

Other than it’s partner, which is still in his holster and also freshly taken care of. 

“You’re supposed to be watching his back, Jesper,” the Wraith’s voice reminds him, tinged with annoyance. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, rolling over so he can look over the side of the building to where Kaz is meeting with his contact. “You know, I’m still not sure why all three of us need to be here for one pilot.” 

“If you want, we can always switch positions,” Inej offers. “You can play get-away pilot.” 

Jesper snorts as he lines up his sight again. “Yeah, right. That’s all yours, spider. Besides we needed the sniper position here, remember?” 

There’s a long suffering sigh over the radio and Jesper grins. Through the scope his eyes bounce to Kaz. He can’t see his face, but Jesper knows he’s got that stone face of annoyance, which, as it turns out, is not so different from his normal ambivalent face except that it includes the slight twitching of the vein at his temple. 

Inej claims he’s seeing things, that it’s all in Jesper’s head. According to her, Kaz’s tell has to do with his eyes or some other sappy thing like that because they’re both secretly in love with each other. Jesper thinks they’re both idiots and he likes to think that one day, if he makes a bad enough joke or an inappropriate enough comment, that vein on Kaz’s temple is going to burst. 

He thinks it's good to have goals like that. It makes the dirty work they do for the Rebellion more palatable. 

“I still think it would be better to have me on the ground,” Inej grumbles. “You know I’m no good at the piloting stuff.” 

“You’re the one who wanted to come. If I recall, Per Haskell offered you leave and instead you came here.” Jesper notices the stiffening of Kaz’s shoulders. His informant is still calm, if a little jumpy-looking, so he knows that’s not the source of the tension. His eyes scan the street and see nothing alarming. 

Jesper hasn’t asked but he knows there’s something going on here that they’re not sharing. Inej has been wound tight since they started to hear rumors of an Imperial weapon strong enough to take out a planet. While it was still just a rumor, Kaz and Inej were chasing the thread down with a vengeance. It’s what brought them back to this city world where they had found Inej three years ago. 

Now if only his sneaky little cohorts would share the secret with him. That would be great. 

Jesper grumbles to himself. Like that would ever happen. He looks through the scope of his rifle. The tell tale of white of stormtrooper armor catches his eye and Jesper focuses on the location. The odd trooper presence in a city like this isn’t necessarily something to make note of. It happens on occasion, but this is a pair and he can spot another pair making their way in what looks to his eyes like search patterns. 

“Heads up, Kaz. We might have company.” Jesper says as he keeps an eye on the soldiers. “Moving in pairs. Looks like a search pattern.” 

They’re too far away to hear the words that are spoken, but Jesper can guess what it is from here: “Hey! You there!” 

He watches as Kaz drags their contact into an alley as the storm troopers converge from two directions. 

“I’ve lost sight of you, Kaz.” Jesper sights the troopers through his scope and taps a finger against the trigger. Killing troopers brings more attention than Kaz likes. They work in secret. “Exit strategy?” 

Through Kaz’s comm he hears the panicked pleas of Kaz’s contact swiftly silenced by a laser bolt. He grimaces at the additional body count as Kaz’s gravelly voice comes over the comm. 

“I’ve got it. Jesper, join Inej. Meet me at the rendezvous point.” 

He takes one last look at the troopers closing in on the alley and then stands. If Kaz needed help, he would ask. The man had a thousand and one plans. There’s no way he didn’t account for a way out of this trap. It sounds like he’s probably climbing, a feat considering his bum leg from when he landed on it wrong a couple years back and it never healed properly.  

“You know, for once I’d like one of these missions to go smoothly,” Jesper mutters under his breath as he hightails it back to the ship. He stows his blaster and keeps it from sight as he moves through the crowds. Seedy cities have been a second home to him for years, since he left the Imperial flight academy, if he’s being honest. He liked the anonymity the city gave him. It always felt better than the emptiness of the moisture farm he grew up on. He hates the heat and the sand. 

Oh, God, the sand. 

He walks aboard the ship with the swagger of a drunk who won big at the betting table. He nods jovially to those he passes. There are a couple glances down to the pistols at his waist, but that’s normal on a large port like this one. Intergalactic travel to major cities has always been fraught with trouble and this one isn’t especially savory. They don’t have the clearance for savory. 

Inej sits on the ramp of the ship, sprawled out across it like a cat. She opens her eyes as he arrives and stretches. “Ready to go?” 

“Shouldn’t the get away pilot be ready to run?” Jesper teases as they walk up into the ship and Inej diverts to the cockpit, starting the take off procedure. 

“I spent the last hour bemoaning my terrible coworker who insists on gambling at each port and always staggers back drunk, occasionally with unexpected company. I’ve already got tower clearance to leave. And taking off won’t set any red flags with the Empire so we’re clear.” 

Jesper drops into the copilot chair as Inej goes through engine checks. “You did all that?” 

“You’re not the only one capable of sweet talking people, Fahey.” She shoots him a look and he chuckles. 

“I remember when your first attempt to blend in. Didn’t you end up stabbing someone?” 

Inej scowls at the memory. “And no one has tried to grab my body since then without a threat of a knife point.” 

Jesper chuckles. “Fair enough.” He shifts as they fly high enough to leave the atmosphere and then drop back down, drifting through the carefully mapped out empty space of blind spots that allow them to drift down to the meeting point. Despite it taking them almost no time to get there, Kaz is already sitting against a crate on the roof of a run down building, cane held out in front of him with his hands crossed on top. 

Jesper moves back toward the loading bay and opens the doors. He leans against the side of the doorway as the ship turns to face Kaz. “Hiya, honey. Miss me?” 

As always Kaz rolls his eyes at Jesper’s attitude as he climbs the ramp. “We’re clean. Any trouble at the port?” 

“Nope,” Inej reports from the cockpit. “Just a couple nosy traders looking for a good time. Sent them after Jesper.” 

“Har har,” he shoots back as the ramp closes with a firm whoosh of pressure stabilizing. He turns to Kaz who has dropped onto the bench and closed his eyes. His lame foot is extended slightly in front of him, a tell that it’s aching from the exercise of escaping the troopers. Jesper can also see where his blaster sticks out from under his jacket, the clip of the holster no longer in place. He definitely used it. “Did you get the intel?” 

Kaz nods. 

“Where are we headed?” Inej asks. From the body of the shuttle, Jesper sees her hand hover over the hyperspeed settings, preparing to change the destination of their jump. 

“The pilot is on Jedha.” 

They both freeze and you could hear a pin drop in the shuttle. Jesper glances at Inej and sees the same worry painted in the lines of her face. “Are you sure?” 

Kaz finally opens his eyes and leans forward. “It’s been confirmed. That’s the second source and this one claims to have actually seen the pilot.” 

“But he’s a defector, why would he go there?” Jesper asks. 

“Jedha’s not a stronghold for the Empire, but they do trade there.” Kaz answers, as if that explains the reasoning. 

“But it’s a Shu stronghold. They’re cut off. We haven’t had contact in years.” Jesper glances at Inej in the cockpit. “Nina was there when the communications shut down. She wasn’t able to get out and no one’s been able to go in.” 

Kaz rams a gloved hand over the top of his cane. “That isn’t strictly true.” 

Inej whips around. “What?” 

He sighs. “We have a way onto the planet. The problem will be finding the defector and getting him to talk to us.” 

“And getting off planet again,” Jesper cuts in. “Or have you forgotten how the Shu seize whoever and whatever they want? There’s a reason we don’t have an outpost there.” 

Kaz stares at him with those cold, blank eyes and then turns toward Inej. “Set the course.” 

For a long moment, Inej doesn’t move. Her fingers tap against the control as she gazes at Kaz with an inscrutable expression on her face for a moment before she turns back to the controls and the ship lurches into hyperspace. 

Jesper crosses his arms as he faces Kaz from across the ship. “You knew we were headed to Jedha.” 

Kaz stares back at him for a moment and then closes his eyes. He leans back against the side of the ship. Jesper wishes he was surprised about the lack of communication. 

He sits down next to Kaz. “This way on to Jedha...does it have anything to do with Nina?” 

Kaz cracks open an eye. He looks Jesper over and shuts them again. “She was able to get one message out since the Shu shut down. The last message that got out - the one that opened a path - the agent was lost. Haven’t heard anything since.” 

“Nina?” 

“Under orders to lay low.” 

“Are we taking her out with us?” 

Kaz’s hands tighten on the head of his cane. “We’ll see.” 

...

There was something happening. Nina looks around the marketplace covertly as she examines the fruit in the stall in front of her. It’s the same bland, slightly bruised fruit that they always have. Two years on this desert planet and she’s still not used to the blandness of the food. She’s missing the lush variety of Aldaraan and the sweets she used to eat by the bushel. There’s no sweets here in Jedha, especially not in the mostly abandoned temple. 

She exchanges a coin for two shrivelled pieces of fruit and a smile with the vendor. She slips off the main thoroughfare and into the archway that leads into the dilapidated temple. Like most of Jedha, it’s covered in a fine layer of sand and dust, and shows the wear and tear of years of war. 

She tosses a piece of fruit to the tall and skulking shadow that leans against the archway. Matthias catches the fruit of the air. He pulls a wickedly long knife from behind his back and cuts the fruit into meticulous pieces, eating with precise movements to stop the juice from creating a sticky mess. 

Nina is far less careful. She bites into the fruit and does her best to stop the overripe fruit from spilling juice down her chin. It’s a messy process and her fingers will end up coated in sugary sweetness. It’s her little act of rebellion that makes Matthias shake his head in her direction, when his eyes aren’t sweeping the plaza. 

“There’s something in the wind,” he says as he slowly eats another slice of his fruit. Nina’s is almost gone. She’s sad for that. 

“Rumors.” Nina glances at the gangsters on the corner of the street with their strange metal suits. They’re looking antsy, searching the street. “There’s not much chatter. Something about an Imperial pilot. Broke through the Shu blockade.” 

Matthias’s eyes drift back across the crowds of people. Nina rearranges her robe and leans against her staff. Two years posing as acolytes of the temple and proselytizing about Sankts has her accustomed to her character. No one bothers with a monk spouting ideas of an old religion they no longer believe in. 

“The Empire is still confined to their kyber shipments,” Matthias observes. He casually cuts the seeds from his fruit. “Their shuttle routes haven’t been altered. The Shu though.” His eyes dart to their locations around the square. “They’re looking for someone.” 

“A defector,” Nina says. 

Matthias finally looks over at her in surprise. “Yours or mine?” 

“Does it matter?” she asks. “Either way, we need to find them before anyone else.” 

“Do we?” Matthias grumbles and slips his knife back into the sheath hidden somewhere on his person. “It’s not like anyone’s come to get us in the last two years.” 

Nina rolls her eyes. They’ve had this argument before. “Come now, druskelle. Where’s that attitude of dedication to the Empire?” 

He snorts. “It died two years ago.” One of the Shu guards moves and Matthias’s attention strays. “Think it’s important enough that they’ll risk their peace with the Shu?” 

Beneath the question is the unspoken one that neither of them have put words to, but they both know is lingering in the back of their minds: Is this defector more important than they are? Nina’s last mission was to get a contact off Jedha to the Rebellion. Matthias had saved her from capture by the Shu and they hadn’t been able to risk an attempt to leave Jedha since then. The Empire had some sort of deal with the Shu that allowed them access to the Kyber mines but that was it. 

“Perhaps it’s time we went to collect tithes, Brother Helvar,” Nina announces. She pulls up the hood of her robes and leans on her staff as she walks out from the temple. Matthias follows behind her with grumbled complaints under his breath. The occupants of the city are familiar with their dynamic, although they’re sure to vary the times they depart the temple. Routines are too predictable. 

Matthias doesn’t speak even as Nina stops to talk with every friendly face she sees. For the first year, he had complained at every moment, even as she explained to him the importance of blending in, of becoming part of the populace. Now he even lets the children climb on him when she stops to share a story about the saints. 

“They’re jumpy,” Lin shares with Nina in whispered tones, her eyes darting around the square even though there don’t appear to be guards around right now. “Jan said he saw stormtroopers preparing to enter the city.” 

Nina performs a blessing on an elderly man. “Any idea what they’re looking for?” 

“A pilot.” Lin shifts her daughter around on her hip. “Imperial pilot. You don’t want to get between the troopers and their goal. The Shu are looking for him too. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of their way.” 

Matthias moves closer. “And the pilot?” 

Lin glances at him and then back at Nina. She’s always been more skittish around men. It’s a look Nina’s uncomfortably familiar with and one she knows speaks to a violent past interaction. The way she grips her daughter just a bit closer breaks Nina’s heart. 

Nina nods encouragingly. 

“Down by the old refractory.” Lin freezes up as soon as the words escape her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise at what she just divulged. She darts away in a panic, leaving Nina and Matthias to continue to serve the poor with their usual tithes. 

By unspoken agreement, Matthias follows Nina’s lead as she takes them on a winding path. The last year and half of long meandering routes work in their favor as Nina leads them with more purpose. 

It feels good to have a purpose again. She hasn’t had contact with the Rebellion, but if this is big enough that the Empire is willing to fight the Shu for the interloper, then it’s big enough for the Rebellion to also be looking. The Empire has the strength to use brute force. The Rebellion will send Kaz Brekker. Per Haskell would be an idiot to send anyone else. 

As they get closer to their destination, Nina slows her pace and purposefully plays up her monk persona, passing out alms and blessings in equal measure. Matthias moves gruffly in her wake, watching her back in a way that might be suspicious if it hadn’t been his stable characteristic for the last two years. The Shu are used to their dynamic of the devout believer jaded sceptic. They had adopted the personas for safe passage before the Shu blockade and been forced to maintain it since then. 

It was useful, despite neither Nina nor Matthias being well versed in espionage. 

By the time they reach the old refractory buildings, Nina and Matthias are moving at a crawl, speaking to every person they see. Nina’s eyes scan the faces for one that looks out of place, one that screams uncertainty or distrust. 

She gets pointed down a dark alley by one of the urchins after she shares with him one of her precious jojo beans. It’s the closest she can get to her sweets in this city. She glances at Matthias and he nods. His body is intentionally relaxed, ready to move as necessary in response to a threat. 

Nina leads the way into the factory, looking around carefully as they move into the space. She breathes in deeply and sinks into the meditative state. The air around her settles, buzzing with the life force of the inhabitants of the city. In a couple of breaths, she narrows it further so she can feel the interior of the building. 

Matthias mutters under his breath, something about religious mumbo jumbo and insanity. 

Nina turns sideways and opens one eye to glare at Matthias. He rolls his eyes and gestures at her to continue.  

Her use of the Force is unrefined, based more in the faith that it will work than on actual knowledge about what she’s doing. It’s an old religion and the order they’re with is still respected even if not believed in. Okay, so maybe respected is pushing it. They’re disregarded as religious fanatics who don’t do much of anything. 

She follows the light of the Force through the factory, letting it guide her feet, trusting it to protect her from bumping into any of the clutter. Dimly, she senses Matthias grunt as he moves something out of her path before she hits it or it hits her. She keeps her focus on the life signature that shines like a beacon, coming to a stop once they’re in sight of the huddled mass. She opens her eyes and peers into the gloom. 

“We’re here to help you,” Nina says. Her soft voice carries around the large space. She ignores Matthias’s mutter about talking to herself. 

“Who...who are you?” A tremulous voice asks. It sounds younger than Nina expected, more uncertain. She thought a defector would be more hardened, more convinced of their path to go against the Empire in such a way. 

Nina squats down to look at the hunched over figure. Matthias has one hand hovering over his hidden firearm, the other on a dagger. She’s deep in her meditation of the Force and senses no danger from the huddled figure. 

“You’re the pilot, right?” Nina asks instead of answering. 

His eyes look her over, lingering on her and Matthias’s matching robes. “You’re priests?” 

He inches forward. There’s enough light cast on him that his Imperial uniform catches her eye, answering the question he avoids. She smiles softly at him and holds out her hand. Behind her Matthias shifts, disliking her proximity to perceived danger, if she has to guess. 

“Word on the street is you’re a defector. We’re here to help.”  

...

Wylan doesn't think he's ever been this cold in his life. Which is bizarre because this is a desert planet. You'd think it would be warm but instead he's found himself huddled in dark corners, scavenging like a rat for scraps for the last couple days while he tries to escape notice from the Shu. Jedha was supposed to be a safe haven for him, somewhere the Empire couldn't touch. The Shu had tried to grab him first, had detained him and demanded answers to their questions about the Empire. His protests that he wanted to defect fell on deaf ears. Then they'd dragged him into a cave with a beast they called Bor Gullet. 

It's a blur after that. 

He remembers waking in a cell to garbled words, a blurred hologram of his father glaring disdainfully down at him. A comment about the Empire being grateful to the Shu. Wylan doesn't know how he escaped. There's a memory of loud noise, a flash of heat, and dirt. Then it's all dark and cold. 

He'd avoided people after that, stuck to shadows, and only ventured out when the emptiness of his stomach threatened to eat him from the inside out. 

He doesn't even know how long it's been since he escaped the cell...or was released...he doesn't know. 

Then the woman appeared, like an angel out of the darkness and she promises salvation. 

Wylan knows enough of his father's games not to immediately trust the gesture. "Who are you?"  

“We’re with the Rebellion,” she says with a smile. 

The monk behind her rolls his eyes and turns away. They don’t look like any monks he recognises. The only person he’s heard of who truly follows the old religion is the Darkling and Wylan’s not so unfortunate to have ever seen him in person. “You don’t look like Rebels.” 

“He’s right. We don’t,” the man tells her. 

The woman looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in a glare. “Matthias Helvar.” She turns conspiratorially back to Wylan and there’s a friendly glint in her eye that makes him want to trust her. “Once he was the most devout of you all. Rose through the ranks of the Empire almost as high as they come. You want out of the Empire. We can help.” 

Wylan’s eyes drift over the man’s features and there’s something that reminds him of the way General Brum’s men carry themselves, the elite of the troopers he’s only seen from a distance. Wylan wants to string words together but they slip away like soap and water. 

“Will you come with us?” She prompts, yet again. 

He can’t combine the fears and hopes and questions into coherent sense. All he can do is nod in agreement. Whether they harm him or save him, he’ll be dead or caught if he stays here on his own. He needs allies and he’s not in a mental state where he can do much of anything himself. 

“Good,” she says. She pulls him forward and manhandles Wylan into a monk’s robe over his tattered pilot’s uniform. “I’m Nina. This is Matthias. We’re going to get you out of here alive. Good?” 

Wylan nods. She shoves a basket into his hands and drops additional bits of clutter from the warehouse floor into it. 

“We should be heading back,” Matthias rumbles. 

“Walk between us,” Nina instructs, pulling the hood of his robe up. Matthias mimics the movement. “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t talk to anyone. Just stay in step with us. We’ll speak for you if it comes to that.” 

Wylan has enough sense to nod along. He knows talking will only give away his current state of complete confusion. He can see the looks Nina and Matthias exchange in response to his silence. He’s not so lost that he doesn’t understand what’s going on but the thoughts take too long to reach his lips and disappear like fragrance on a breeze. 

The ground is dusty and uneven under Wylan’s feet. It captures his attention as he walks, so different from the metal hallways and corridors he’s used to walking.  His feet catch from where they scrape the ground and he tries to tell his body to lift his feet higher, but they don’t seem willing to respond any more than what they do by instinct. When was the last time he walked on anything that wasn’t steel? 

He’s so preoccupied by swirls of dirt that he walks right into a wall. 

Well, not a wall, but the giant monk - Matthias. He bounces off the man’s back, which feels like the equivalent of walking into a wall. The man doesn’t even move in response to him walking into him at full speed, but Wylan almost falls on his butt, and would if it wasn’t for Nina catching him. 

She steps past him to stand next to Matthias. She pushes him further into the shadows behind Matthias as she looks past him to see what’s grabbed his attention. Wylan shuffles sideways and ducks down so he can look around the hulking figures. 

The white helmets break through his current haze and Wylan stumbles backwards. The Storm Troopers followed him. He can’t allow himself to be captured, not after he finally escaped that place and his father’s restrictive control. 

“Wait!” Nina whispers harshly, but Wylan’s body is moving without his consent. The urge to get away is too strong. It drives him, haltingly, step-after-step through twisting and confusing alleyways. He’s not sure where he’s going except away. If he can get to a port, he’s sure he can fly a ship. 

Another flash of white Imperial helmets send him careening in another direction which leads him into a square. The sudden exposure leaves him disoriented and he spins around looking for another exit as a child is ushered into one house and shutters are slammed shut. Wylan gulps. He walks back and turns, running into someone for the second time. This time the person rocks as he crashes into them, but Wylan’s still the one wheeling back. 

He blinks at the man, carrying some sort of stick. He looks like he could belong here except that his eyes are too intent. It’s the kind of gaze you couldn’t stand for too long but are also scared to look away from. It takes him a second to notice the tiny girl at his side. She’s looking around, causally flipping a blade in her hand. The other rests on a blaster. Now that he realized that, Wylan notices the man is also armed. 

“Wylan Van Eck?” The man asks. 

Wylan blinks at him in shock. He’s helpless to do anything but nod. They’re not Empire and they don’t look like the Khergud who grabbed him, so they can’t be that bad. Or at least are likely better than the alternative.  

“Right. Time to be off. Let Jesper know we’ve got the package.” The man turns abruptly. 

Wylan glances at the girl who steps aside and gestures at him to follow. He hasn’t decided if he will when there are footsteps behind him. He twists back to see who’s following and breathes a little easier when the monks appear. Maybe monks are better than whoever the man is.  

Maybe he’s dead anyway. 

“Oh good. You’re here.” The man says. “We can all go then.” 

Nina smirks from where she’s bent over catching her breath. “Nice to see you too, Kaz. Been ages.” 

...

It’s convenient that they were able to find the pilot and Nina in one place. He would have trouble getting Inej and Jesper out of here with just the pilot. They’d had no communication with Nina, no way to get in contact with her once they were in the atmosphere. Kaz takes it in stride and moves back the way they came. The rest will follow and someone will make sure the pilot comes along with them. 

It would have been a fantastic escape. In and out with no trouble whatsoever. It would have been too lucky for him, so the storm troopers that come streaming racing around the corner where Nina and her friend emerged are hardly a surprise. The real unlucky bit is that they also appear in the two other access points to the square. 

The pilot looks ready to bolt. Nina and the second monk steps forward. Kaz respects the bulk of him and hopes that he’s good in a fight. If it were just him and Inej, they would split up and meet at the rendez-vous. The pilot is going to be the issue. 

“Halt. Surrender or you will be terminated.” 

Inej pushes Wylan behind her and toward Kaz. The boy curls in on himself. How he ever got up the courage to desert the Empire, Kaz hasn’t a clue. Now they just need to get him out of here with whatever valuable knowledge is worth breaking the standoff with the Shu. 

Kaz pushes him into a doorway, out of sight of the blasters. “Stay down.” 

The boy whimpers. 

Nina steps forward, hands raised in a deceptively helpless gesture. “Calm down. We’re all friends here.” 

“Stand down or we will open fire,” the trooper repeats. The entire line readies their weapons. Their blasters might be unreliable and clunky, but with so many firing, they’re bound to hit something. 

“You don’t want to shoot us.” Nina tries again. 

“That’s what you’ve got?” the second monk asks incredulously. 

She glares at him. Kaz watches Inej palm a blade and twirl it effortlessly in one hand. The harsh sunlight glints off the edge of the blade: steel instead of a laser edge many prefer. He knows she likes the way the old fashioned blades feel in her hand. They look like they belong in her grasp. 

Nina steps forward again, closer and closer to the troopers. “You’re not going to shoot us.” 

“Hand over the pilot.” The trooper says. From across the square, Kaz can hear the gun prep to fire. This isn’t working. 

“Yeah. That’s not going to happen,” he drawls from the back of the group. The second monk glares at him, but Kaz just twirls his kane, unbothered. It was going to come down to this anyway. There’s no point holding it off as more backup and fire power arrives to support the troopers. 

Shadows fall across the square and Kaz gets his first look at the notorious Khergud soldiers who have kept Jedha independent for the last two years. “Imperial Troopers. You have no authority in our city. The pilot is ours.” 

Nina, her monk, and Inej grow tense at the new party. Beside him the pilot starts to mutter under his breath, rocking back and forth. 

This actually works to their advantage as the troopers are forced to divert their attention. The Khergud fires directly at the troopers before jumping into the air. The troopers open fire, most on the Khergud, judging them to be the bigger threat. 

Inej seizes the moment to dive forward into the fight, taking out two opponents in moments before she’s engaged by one of the Shu soldiers. She moves like an acrobat, twirling through flailing limbs that breeze past her. She’s a force of nature. 

Kaz is distracted from his awe by a guard landing a few feet away and leaping for Wylan. He dispatches the soldier with a few whacks of his cane. He crumples under a well-placed hit to the temple. 

More troopers race toward the noise. They stop around the corner of an alley, firing from their protective spots and forcing the monk and Kaz to step back to cover. They lob a grenade into the square. Kaz takes two steps forward and hits it back with the metal head of his cane. It soars in a perfect arch back to the troopers, who scramble for cover too late. 

The monk nods in acknowledgment and moves to relieve Nina from her two enemies. Inej falls back as she takes out her opponent and the rest are distracted by Nina and the monk. She moves to stand alongside Kaz, stretching out the muscles she just used as she slips her blades back in their many holsters. The explosion rocks the block which takes out one contingent of troopers but they're met with more troopers and Shu, crawling out of the cracks like cockroaches. 

A moment later shots arc over their heads, rapid fire, each one hitting its target and leaving the recipients incapacitated.  

Kaz relaxes infintestimently. He'd been prepared to dive for cover. His hand twitches toward Inej but he knows she can take care of herself. She doesn’t need him trying to tackle her and throwing off her center of balance.  

A figure emerges along the roofline, a rifle resting against his shoulder. “There were an awful lot of explosions for people who were supposed to be blending in.” 

“I hope you’ve got an exit plan, Brekker,” Nina says. She diverts to the Imperial pilot after a glance at the monk. 

He nods and moves for the alley. “This way.” He glances at Inej and up at the roofline. She nods and follows his tacit directions. Kaz leaves her to do what she does best: cover them from the shadows. 

Kaz walks with purpose through the streets. Now that fighting has broken out, it appears that no one is holding back. Shu are fighting stormtroopers, troopers are fighting the Khergud and civilians are running for cover. Jesper’s  and Inej’s shadows move with them. The monk - who Kaz Brekker suspects is the Druskelle Nina mentioned before she went dark - leads the charge, with his long legs that eat up the ground in long strides. Nina covers their escape with a simple bo staff. 

“Where are we going?” The monk asks as he fires off a round of shots. 

“Left!” Jesper shouts as he crashes to the ground on the back of a Khergud soldier. “I don’t know why we ever thought this was going to be a quiet mission. And I still say we need a demolition expert.” 

“We’re spies, Jesper,” Kaz growls over the sound of battle. 

Jesper shoots him a cocky grin over his shoulder. “But this is so much more fun.” 

“There’s something wrong with you,” the monk mutters. 

“Kaz.” 

He looks sideways, unsurprised to find Inej at his shoulder, silent as always. He follows her gaze upwards and nearly stumbles to a stop. “Jedha doesn’t have a moon.” 

Nina and the monk stumble to a stop. Jesper glances up for a moment. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. It appeared out of nowhere. It’s too big to be a ship but moons don’t move.” 

“That’s it,” Wylan whispers. The pilot suddenly jolts into motion. “We have to go. Now!” 

Kaz is forced into an ungainly run. He tries not to notice Inej hovering at his elbow, keeping pace with him as they race toward the ship. The Imperial pilot is ahead of them all, heedless of laser bolts. Jesper yanks him back by the collar to direct him to the correct ship. 

As he reaches the ramp, Kaz starts to hear screams. 

“Jesper, get us out of here!” Kaz yells. Inej hits the control to shut the ramp as Jesper guns the engine. 

“What do you think I’m doing, Brekker? Buckle up. This ride’s about to get bumpy.” 

... 

The whole world has turned upside down. Matthias isn’t sure what he’s doing, to be perfectly honest. Staying with Nina was a mutually beneficial proposition. They were stuck on a foreign planet, where the only people they could trust were each other. He’d become accustomed to their partnership and been shocked by how much he relied upon her. Now, looking at this ragtag group - so different from the ordered discipline of the elite Druskelle guard - Matthias is at a loss for how the Resistance has managed to become a thorn in the Empire’s side. 

He will admit that they were, like Nina, surprisingly capable and effective. However, he can’t hide how scandalized he is by their lack of any sort of recognizable chain of command. The trio moves like his old unit in that they’re so familiar with each other, they don’t need to shout out commands. But their actions of Jedha display an alarming disregard for a cohesive plan and seem to thrive on the chaos of the moment. 

“What was that?!” The boy with the cane asks, turning around to stare at the group before his eyes zero in on the unfortunate pilot. 

Matthias hasn’t gotten much from the boy, except that he stepped back from the fighting yet was clearly capable of surviving physical confrontation. Nina and his two companions seemed to defer to him as some sort of leader, which spoke to a sharp mind. Nina called him Kaz, which would indicate one of the high level members of Rebel Intelligence. He’s heard him referenced as a nightmare or a demon, spoken of in whispers and myths more than anything else. 

All in all: Matthias expected someone older. 

“That was the Death Star,” Wylan whispers. His eyes look haunted. 

Matthias frowns. “Impossible.” He starts when five sets of eyes jerk towards him in the silence of hyperspace. He grits his teeth. The word wasn’t supposed to be spoken out loud. “They’re decades away from creating that technology.” 

Wylan is shaking his head. “No. They found a scientist. Got him to create what they needed. I...I was able to get away. To warn the Rebellion. It’s a planet killer.” 

“A planet killer?” The small girl repeats. 

“Is that even possible?” Nina glances at him for confirmation. Matthias has no answer. It was only an idea when he was with the Druskelle last. Brum used to talk about it, but it was never close to a reality. Not then. 

“Why don’t you ask Jedha?” Kaz says. 

“We don’t know that it destroyed the whole planet,” the small girl points out. 

The boy doesn’t look away from where he stares out the window at the white streaks of stars passing in hyperspace. “At the very least, we know it destroyed the city. If the Empire has a weapon like that, we’re left defenseless.” 

“That’s why I was sent to find you,” Wylan says. He freezes when all eyes turn to him and he curls in on himself from his spot beside the pilot. Matthias has spent years in Imperial bases and has no idea how this pilot managed to get into the program, let alone became important enough to have access to this top secret project. It seems highly suspect to him. 

“Sent?” The boy asks, finally turning so his whole body faces the pilot. Matthias does have to admit he cuts an intimidating figure even as he leans on his cane. 

The pilot swallows. “The scientist. I was supposed to get to a contact they had with the Rebellion. There was someone I was supposed to connect with...the Wraith? But I got redirected…” He frowns. The more the pilot seems to search for words, the harder they seem to come. 

Matthias has seen this before. “He was captured by the Khergud. They most likely probed his mind using Bor Gullet. That’s how they dealt with any Imperial or Rebel spies they found.” He leans back against the steel hull. It actually feels good to be back in space again after being grounded for so long. 

It feels like freedom. 

The boy looks at Nina. She nods in confirmation. “It’s true. We only escaped detection because of the temple.” 

“Because all she would talk about was the Force,” Matthias mutters. He adjusts his muscles so they’re loose and he can react in an instant if needed. Nina drops into the space beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow as she settles in like a cat that can get comfortable anywhere. 

“I saved your life,” she says without opening her eyes. 

He grunts and doesn’t let his smile emerge.  

“The Wraith,” Kaz repeats, focusing on Wylan again. “What were you supposed to tell them?”

Wylan still looks nervous. “Well, I was supposed to pass on...a message...There’s a way to destroy it. A weakness.” 

“A weakness?” 

Wylan yanks at his hair. It’s useless to try to force him to remember more in his state. Matthias watches the trio of rebels to see what they’ll do at this obstacle. 

“He didn’t tell me,” Wylan whispers, clearly realizing this might not endear him to his rescuers at this point. “I was supposed to...bring someone back. They wanted...they wanted someone to rescue them, and they would share the weakness. I was just supposed to be the messenger. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” 

Kaz scowls and glances at the girl who looks at the man in the pilot’s seat, all having some sort of silent conversation. Matthias watches the interaction with interest.  

“Where is this base?” Kaz finally moves closer, crouching so he can look Wylan in the eyes. 

“Eadu.” 

Matthias vaguely recalls the outpost. Far from most of the known universe, it’s one of the Empire’s research bases. There’s not a huge platoon placed there for protection. It’s a secret base, kept out of the way, and by necessity sees few changes in personnel. There were a couple training missions on the planet to diversify the team’s experiences and analyze security procedures. 

“We don’t have anyone on Eadu,” the girl notes. 

“Because Eadu’s on lockdown. Nothing in or out that isn’t high level.” The boy flying the craft throws over his shoulder. “Out of the flight academy, I only stopped there once because they needed a supply run immediately. They didn’t even let me off the shuttle. To be a pilot there, you’d have to have some pretty impressive clearance.” 

Matthias alters his assessment of the crew that got them off Jedha. To get through the Imperial Flight Academy is impressive. The man also demonstrated impressive aim and combat skills. Despite not being highly regimented, they do appear to be a solid team. He glances down at Nina. 

“So in order to get the information on the weakness, we have to go to Eadu,” the girl says. She’s twirling a knife in her hands, one with a true steel blade like he hasn’t seen in ages. Her comfort with it is another mark in their favor. 

“Jesper’s right. It’s impenetrable. We haven’t managed to get anyone on the inside.” Kaz taps his fingers on the head of his cane. 

“So we go.” The girl shrugs. “We redirect. We need to find a way to beat this thing or millions more are going to die.” 

“Procedure is to report for further orders. We’ve got the pilot.” Kaz looks at her with a heavy look. 

“Matthias can help.” Nina elbows him as she speaks up. 

He scowls down at her as everyone turns to stare at him. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes to betray him. 

“I’m not a traitor.” Matthias glares at the lot of them. 

“You’ll help,” Nina says with a self-assuredness he’s come to hate over the last couple of years. Because as irksome as it is, she’s usually right about these things. They both know it. 

“We’re supposed to just trust a stranger on your word?” Jesper asks. 

“Get twisted, Fahey. You know my word is good.” 

Kaz and the woman - whose name Matthias still doesn’t know - have another silent conversation. She turns to look at him, her eyes speculative. Kaz leans closer to her. “You think you can do this?” 

She doesn’t take his eyes from Matthias. Her knives continue the casual twisting in her hand. She shrugs and looks back at the mastermind. “It is our kind of job.” 

Kaz nods. “Jesper, alter course. Van Eck, help get him close without being seen. Matthias, you need to tell us everything you know, and quickly.” 

“Why should I?” 

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to make your life very unpleasant.” 

“How do you even know the pilot is right? How do you know there really is a weakness? This could be a trap.” It sounds like the kind of thing Jarl Brum would think up to capture Rebel spies.

“Faith,” Nina says. “This is the right choice.” She finally sits up and stretches. 

Matthias rolls his eyes at her religious display. He sighs. “I can tell you what I know. It could still be a trap.” 

“The pilot is Wylan Van Eck. He’s on my list of potential informants. He became an Imperial pilot because of familial connections. It’s how he has access to sensitive information. We know they’re working on something on Eadu. If this is what he says, then we need that information.” The girl explains it in an even voice. 

“And if there isn’t a secret weakness?” 

Kaz and Inej exchange a long look.  

“Then we find another way to blow it up,” Jesper supplies. 

Matthias isn’t sure he likes the looks of glee on their faces. 

“So how do we get in?” 

The girl turns to look at Matthias, her dark eyes just the slightest bit terrifying now that he’s actually getting a good chance to size her up. She tends to fade into the background and let her comrades take charge, but definitely is not to be underestimated. He stares at her and then glances at Kaz. 

“Inej is a ghost,” Nina says. “She can get in and out without anyone noticing.” 

He looks her over, still assessing. This moment, more than any in the last two years of surviving, feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff. The last two years he could justify to his superiors: he was surviving a hostile planet, he had to get close to Nina or he would have died, he was trying to learn the secrets of the Rebel scum. This was different. If he does this, he’s helping the Rebel cause. He’s actively going against everything he’s ever learned.

Nina hits him in the shoulder, as if sensing his internal conflict. She twists upright to look at him and raises an eyebrow in challenge. 

He can hear her voice in his head, berating him for his strict no-nonsense rules and his consuming hatred for anything that goes against the order of the Empire. There were countless debates as they marched through Jedha, each an intellectual exercise. He can honestly say that he doesn’t believe the Empire is never wrong, but is that enough to make him give up their secrets? 

“They murdered everyone in Jedha,” she whispers to him softly. “Lin, Mauri, Katya…” She closes her eyes against the pain. 

He wants to wrap her in his arms and pull her close. Nina feels everything so deeply, unable to stop herself from connecting with everyone she meets. He wants to protect from that pain, to comfort her. Those lives lost today. They were innocents. People that should have been protected and instead… 

He opens his eyes and nods his agreement to Nina. 

She grins, life and joy filling her back up as she bounces around in her seat, the way she gets excited whenever they found something reasonably sweet on Jedha. “Matthias meet Inej. Inej, meet Matthais. He’s a little shy but he knows what’s at stake.”

It’s like shedding a piece of armor or throwing off the last vestiges of who he once was. There’s no turning back now, and he has surprisingly little regret as he opens his eyes and asks the first damning question: “Where do you want to start?”

<hr>

Inej barely remembers those early days with her family living in the heart of a city. She gets flashes of memories - playing with dolls, toddling after her father, parties full of boring adults who couldn’t care less about her. What she thinks of when she remembers her family is what came after: the travelling band of performers they joined. It’s there that she felt comfortable. The troupe was her family: they encouraged her, taught her tricks of the trade, and were the ones who trained her as an acrobat. They travelled from system to system, performing in cities and small villages alike, on hot planets and cold. She had careful rules to follow about her interactions whenever they landed. 

Despite all the restrictions, she remembers feeling carefree. The caravan was her domain and she was empress. The day her life changed was just like any other. She remembers her mother running a hand over her hair, whispering that they were going down into town. Her sleepy head full of cotton can’t remember her exact words, just the feeling of warmth, the comfort of routine. Only recently - on her eighth birthday - had she earned the right to sleep in instead of joining her parents’ customary outing.  

Sometimes in her waking hours, she forgets that happened years ago and in her half-waking state she thinks she can still hear her mother’s soothing whisper and her father patting her hand as he tucks her treasured stuffed bear under the blankets of her bed so she has company. 

Inej’s eyes fly open as the harsh lights of simulated daylight jolt her unrelentingly from her sleep into the cold reality of her life. 

She rolls up to a seated position and runs her arm over her sleepy face. She makes no effort to make herself presentable and glares at her arm with the repulsive peacock feather tattoo. It’s been eight years since that morning when her whole life burned around her, her whole extended family vanished in the blink of an eye and she was sold into the slave markets of the Hutts before she was even aware what that meant. 

“Inej Ghafa, the mistress will see you now,” a mechanical voice says over the speaker hidden in her room. Luxurious drapes and curtains cover the mechanical aspects of the room, but can’t hide the prison-like nature of a room without windows in a pleasure house. This has always been Inej’s cage. 

Of course, to the Empire, this isn’t slavery. She has an indenture that she’s working off, this was a choice she made. Inej stands. The words are bullshit. It’s a pretty story told by those who believe themselves to be above such terrible things just because they use different words. Inej is old enough to know what happens in the different rooms of the pleasure house she currently calls home, but still too young to be expected to participate fully. But she knows her days are numbered. 

Girls in this trade grow up quickly. She’s still a tease, only suffering a a groping hand here, a leer there, the occasional bit of voyeurism which makes her skin prickle and means she can never feel comfortable in any room, including her own.

Inej dresses with practiced movements in the ridiculous trappings Madam Helene requires. There are far too many bells on the outfit, too many dangling bits that can tangle for it to really be the exotic outfit Helene claims the clients want. She hates the way the silk feels against her skin when it used to mean the soothing comfort of performance attire. 

For now, her role is to just be an ornamentation for the pleasure house, but madame makes sure she knows what could happen the moment she steps a toe out of line. She’s not above selling Inej off before her time, the cost of which would do nothing to lower the exorbitant cost of her supposed indenture.  

Inej keeps her head down and walks quickly to the main room. In the early hours, there are few patrons who might be looking for a companion, but Inej has learned to keep her head down in any case. She’s short and skinny - underdeveloped to most tastes - so aren’t many interested in her and the ones that are she should avoid with even more care.  

There’s a boy in the room with Helene: a boy with a familiar cane. Inej is so surprised to see him that she forgets to look away meekly when his dark eyes meet hers. She tilts her head in curiosity. Last she saw, he was slipping out of a back hallway which she knew allowed Helene to eavesdrop on clients as they spent the night with girls, or that she offered to well-paying customers who took pleasure from that sort of thing. 

He looks just as cold as he did that night, but she vividly remembers the surprise in his eyes when she spoke from over his shoulder. He wasn’t a regular customer at the brothel but he was on good terms with a couple members of the staff and she’d seen him exchange kruge for information on more than one occasion. Last she saw him, she’d offered him help. 

“Ah, there’s my little Suli Lioness.” Madam Helene smiles benevolently, but her perfume chokes Inej as she wraps an arm around her. “Inej, do you know who this is?” 

“They call him Dirtyhands,” she answers, voice proper and meek as Helene likes. All the other girls have told her not to ask questions any time she tries to find out more. She can’t help but wonder if offering herself to him was a mistake, but she knows this place will kill her if she doesn’t find a way out. 

“Hmm…,” Madame hums. She turns to the boy with a set face and Inej’s chest tightens in apprehension. “I’m afraid your offer will not be accepted, Mr. Brekker. Inej is precious to me.” Her bejeweled fingers dig into Inej’s shoulder. “I couldn’t possibly part with her.” 

The boy raises an impeccable eyebrow. “I was under the impression our negotiations were finalized.” 

Helene releases an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, you silly boy. Did you know the Empire has offered quite the reward for you?” 

Inej tenses. She knows that Madame is fickle in her alliances, but she’s never openly invited storm troopers into her house: they don’t pay well. 

“You’d better run, little boy, if you want to get out of here before they can grab you.” 

Two doors into the main room slide open with a whoosh of air to reveal armored bodies with blasters levelled at the boy. Inej’s quick eyes note that the door closest to Brekker has no guard, instead being left clear if he wants to escape. If she were him, she would be running but instead he looks bored as he stares back at Madame. He lifts his wrist to check his time piece, an old fashioned analog device that hasn’t been used in decades. 

There’s a pulse of static followed by a volley of blaster shots. Inej jerks down out of the way but is shocked to see that none of the shots were aimed at them. 

“You should have taken the money, Helene,” the boy shaking space dust from his jacket. “We could have continued this lucrative partnership.” 

Madame pales and looks around at the rumpled crew of men who are all standing around. Most have holstered their guns, but a tall dark-skinned man walks up to them and gestures Helene back away from Inej. Madame drops her grip as if she can’t get her distance fast enough. She turns to the boy. 

“Please! You have to understand, the troopers would have killed me if I didn’t.” 

The boy looks at her impassively before shrugging. “Per Haskell is still willing to buy out her indenture. I’m sure we can agree on a more reasonable price.” 

Inej snorts. She can’t help it. They’re literally haggling over the price of her indenture after not killing one another. Frankly, it’s ridiculous. The boy looks over at her. Although his face is a mask which reveals no secrets, Inej sees a hint of amusement lurking in his dark eyes before he focuses again on Madame Helene. 

“Congratulations,” the dark-skinned man who shooed Madame Helene away says, leaning down to her, even as his eyes stay on the boy and madam. “You’re being rescued.” 

She looks around at the rag tag group she’s now willing to bet are Rebellion spies and wonders if this will actually be any better. Beyond them, she spots a couple of Helene’s girls with their bloodshot eyes, thin skin and haunted looks. It’s enough to remind her that is it. This is what she wants: a chance to save her father and get revenge on the Empire which has caused her so much pain. 

Inej straightens as much as she can. It looks like she’s joining the rebellion. 

<hr> 

Three years later… 

“You ever wonder if Kaz is actually a demon?” Jesper asks speculatively. He points his blaster to the sky and stares down the barrel. It’s in the best possible order he can make it. The sights are calibrated, the lazer refined and the trigger pull smooth. He couldn’t ask for a better weapon. 

Other than it’s partner, which is still in his holster and also freshly taken care of. 

“You’re supposed to be watching his back, Jesper,” the Wraith’s voice reminds him, tinged with annoyance. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, rolling over so he can look over the side of the building to where Kaz is meeting with his contact. “You know, I’m still not sure why all three of us need to be here for one pilot.” 

“If you want, we can always switch positions,” Inej offers. “You can play get-away pilot.” 

Jesper snorts as he lines up his sight again. “Yeah, right. That’s all yours, spider. Besides we needed the sniper position here, remember?” 

There’s a long suffering sigh over the radio and Jesper grins. Through the scope his eyes bounce to Kaz. He can’t see his face, but Jesper knows he’s got that stone face of annoyance, which, as it turns out, is not so different from his normal ambivalent face except that it includes the slight twitching of the vein at his temple. 

Inej claims he’s seeing things, that it’s all in Jesper’s head. According to her, Kaz’s tell has to do with his eyes or some other sappy thing like that because they’re both secretly in love with each other. Jesper thinks they’re both idiots and he likes to think that one day, if he makes a bad enough joke or an inappropriate enough comment, that vein on Kaz’s temple is going to burst. 

He thinks it's good to have goals like that. It makes the dirty work they do for the Rebellion more palatable. 

“I still think it would be better to have me on the ground,” Inej grumbles. “You know I’m no good at the piloting stuff.” 

“You’re the one who wanted to come. If I recall, Per Haskell offered you leave and instead you came here.” Jesper notices the stiffening of Kaz’s shoulders. His informant is still calm, if a little jumpy-looking, so he knows that’s not the source of the tension. His eyes scan the street and see nothing alarming. 

Jesper hasn’t asked but he knows there’s something going on here that they’re not sharing. Inej has been wound tight since they started to hear rumors of an Imperial weapon strong enough to take out a planet. While it was still just a rumor, Kaz and Inej were chasing the thread down with a vengeance. It’s what brought them back to this city world where they had found Inej three years ago. 

Now if only his sneaky little cohorts would share the secret with him. That would be great. 

Jesper grumbles to himself. Like that would ever happen. He looks through the scope of his rifle. The tell tale of white of stormtrooper armor catches his eye and Jesper focuses on the location. The odd trooper presence in a city like this isn’t necessarily something to make note of. It happens on occasion, but this is a pair and he can spot another pair making their way in what looks to his eyes like search patterns. 

“Heads up, Kaz. We might have company.” Jesper says as he keeps an eye on the soldiers. “Moving in pairs. Looks like a search pattern.” 

They’re too far away to hear the words that are spoken, but Jesper can guess what it is from here: “Hey! You there!” 

He watches as Kaz drags their contact into an alley as the storm troopers converge from two directions. 

“I’ve lost sight of you, Kaz.” Jesper sights the troopers through his scope and taps a finger against the trigger. Killing troopers brings more attention than Kaz likes. They work in secret. “Exit strategy?” 

Through Kaz’s comm he hears the panicked pleas of Kaz’s contact swiftly silenced by a laser bolt. He grimaces at the additional body count as Kaz’s gravelly voice comes over the comm. 

“I’ve got it. Jesper, join Inej. Meet me at the rendezvous point.” 

He takes one last look at the troopers closing in on the alley and then stands. If Kaz needed help, he would ask. The man had a thousand and one plans. There’s no way he didn’t account for a way out of this trap. It sounds like he’s probably climbing, a feat considering his bum leg from when he landed on it wrong a couple years back and it never healed properly.  

“You know, for once I’d like one of these missions to go smoothly,” Jesper mutters under his breath as he hightails it back to the ship. He stows his blaster and keeps it from sight as he moves through the crowds. Seedy cities have been a second home to him for years, since he left the Imperial flight academy, if he’s being honest. He liked the anonymity the city gave him. It always felt better than the emptiness of the moisture farm he grew up on. He hates the heat and the sand. 

Oh, God, the sand. 

He walks aboard the ship with the swagger of a drunk who won big at the betting table. He nods jovially to those he passes. There are a couple glances down to the pistols at his waist, but that’s normal on a large port like this one. Intergalactic travel to major cities has always been fraught with trouble and this one isn’t especially savory. They don’t have the clearance for savory. 

Inej sits on the ramp of the ship, sprawled out across it like a cat. She opens her eyes as he arrives and stretches. “Ready to go?” 

“Shouldn’t the get away pilot be ready to run?” Jesper teases as they walk up into the ship and Inej diverts to the cockpit, starting the take off procedure. 

“I spent the last hour bemoaning my terrible coworker who insists on gambling at each port and always staggers back drunk, occasionally with unexpected company. I’ve already got tower clearance to leave. And taking off won’t set any red flags with the Empire so we’re clear.” 

Jesper drops into the copilot chair as Inej goes through engine checks. “You did all that?” 

“You’re not the only one capable of sweet talking people, Fahey.” She shoots him a look and he chuckles. 

“I remember when your first attempt to blend in. Didn’t you end up stabbing someone?” 

Inej scowls at the memory. “And no one has tried to grab my body since then without a threat of a knife point.” 

Jesper chuckles. “Fair enough.” He shifts as they fly high enough to leave the atmosphere and then drop back down, drifting through the carefully mapped out empty space of blind spots that allow them to drift down to the meeting point. Despite it taking them almost no time to get there, Kaz is already sitting against a crate on the roof of a run down building, cane held out in front of him with his hands crossed on top. 

Jesper moves back toward the loading bay and opens the doors. He leans against the side of the doorway as the ship turns to face Kaz. “Hiya, honey. Miss me?” 

As always Kaz rolls his eyes at Jesper’s attitude as he climbs the ramp. “We’re clean. Any trouble at the port?” 

“Nope,” Inej reports from the cockpit. “Just a couple nosy traders looking for a good time. Sent them after Jesper.” 

“Har har,” he shoots back as the ramp closes with a firm whoosh of pressure stabilizing. He turns to Kaz who has dropped onto the bench and closed his eyes. His lame foot is extended slightly in front of him, a tell that it’s aching from the exercise of escaping the troopers. Jesper can also see where his blaster sticks out from under his jacket, the clip of the holster no longer in place. He definitely used it. “Did you get the intel?” 

Kaz nods. 

“Where are we headed?” Inej asks. From the body of the shuttle, Jesper sees her hand hover over the hyperspeed settings, preparing to change the destination of their jump. 

“The pilot is on Jedha.” 

They both freeze and you could hear a pin drop in the shuttle. Jesper glances at Inej and sees the same worry painted in the lines of her face. “Are you sure?” 

Kaz finally opens his eyes and leans forward. “It’s been confirmed. That’s the second source and this one claims to have actually seen the pilot.” 

“But he’s a defector, why would he go there?” Jesper asks. 

“Jedha’s not a stronghold for the Empire, but they do trade there.” Kaz answers, as if that explains the reasoning. 

“But it’s a Shu stronghold. They’re cut off. We haven’t had contact in years.” Jesper glances at Inej in the cockpit. “Nina was there when the communications shut down. She wasn’t able to get out and no one’s been able to go in.” 

Kaz rams a gloved hand over the top of his cane. “That isn’t strictly true.” 

Inej whips around. “What?” 

He sighs. “We have a way onto the planet. The problem will be finding the defector and getting him to talk to us.” 

“And getting off planet again,” Jesper cuts in. “Or have you forgotten how the Shu seize whoever and whatever they want? There’s a reason we don’t have an outpost there.” 

Kaz stares at him with those cold, blank eyes and then turns toward Inej. “Set the course.” 

For a long moment, Inej doesn’t move. Her fingers tap against the control as she gazes at Kaz with an inscrutable expression on her face for a moment before she turns back to the controls and the ship lurches into hyperspace. 

Jesper crosses his arms as he faces Kaz from across the ship. “You knew we were headed to Jedha.” 

Kaz stares back at him for a moment and then closes his eyes. He leans back against the side of the ship. Jesper wishes he was surprised about the lack of communication. 

He sits down next to Kaz. “This way on to Jedha...does it have anything to do with Nina?” 

Kaz cracks open an eye. He looks Jesper over and shuts them again. “She was able to get one message out since the Shu shut down. The last message that got out - the one that opened a path - the agent was lost. Haven’t heard anything since.” 

“Nina?” 

“Under orders to lay low.” 

“Are we taking her out with us?” 

Kaz’s hands tighten on the head of his cane. “We’ll see.” 

<hr> 

There was something happening. Nina looks around the marketplace covertly as she examines the fruit in the stall in front of her. It’s the same bland, slightly bruised fruit that they always have. Two years on this desert planet and she’s still not used to the blandness of the food. She’s missing the lush variety of Aldaraan and the sweets she used to eat by the bushel. There’s no sweets here in Jedha, especially not in the mostly abandoned temple. 

She exchanges a coin for two shrivelled pieces of fruit and a smile with the vendor. She slips off the main thoroughfare and into the archway that leads into the dilapidated temple. Like most of Jedha, it’s covered in a fine layer of sand and dust, and shows the wear and tear of years of war. 

She tosses a piece of fruit to the tall and skulking shadow that leans against the archway. Matthias catches the fruit of the air. He pulls a wickedly long knife from behind his back and cuts the fruit into meticulous pieces, eating with precise movements to stop the juice from creating a sticky mess. 

Nina is far less careful. She bites into the fruit and does her best to stop the overripe fruit from spilling juice down her chin. It’s a messy process and her fingers will end up coated in sugary sweetness. It’s her little act of rebellion that makes Matthias shake his head in her direction, when his eyes aren’t sweeping the plaza. 

“There’s something in the wind,” he says as he slowly eats another slice of his fruit. Nina’s is almost gone. She’s sad for that. 

“Rumors.” Nina glances at the gangsters on the corner of the street with their strange metal suits. They’re looking antsy, searching the street. “There’s not much chatter. Something about an Imperial pilot. Broke through the Shu blockade.” 

Matthias’s eyes drift back across the crowds of people. Nina rearranges her robe and leans against her staff. Two years posing as acolytes of the temple and proselytizing about Sankts has her accustomed to her character. No one bothers with a monk spouting ideas of an old religion they no longer believe in. 

“The Empire is still confined to their kyber shipments,” Matthias observes. He casually cuts the seeds from his fruit. “Their shuttle routes haven’t been altered. The Shu though.” His eyes dart to their locations around the square. “They’re looking for someone.” 

“A defector,” Nina says. 

Matthias finally looks over at her in surprise. “Yours or mine?” 

“Does it matter?” she asks. “Either way, we need to find them before anyone else.” 

“Do we?” Matthias grumbles and slips his knife back into the sheath hidden somewhere on his person. “It’s not like anyone’s come to get us in the last two years.” 

Nina rolls her eyes. They’ve had this argument before. “Come now, druskelle. Where’s that attitude of dedication to the Empire?” 

He snorts. “It died two years ago.” One of the Shu guards moves and Matthias’s attention strays. “Think it’s important enough that they’ll risk their peace with the Shu?” 

Beneath the question is the unspoken one that neither of them have put words to, but they both know is lingering in the back of their minds: Is this defector more important than they are? Nina’s last mission was to get a contact off Jedha to the Rebellion. Matthias had saved her from capture by the Shu and they hadn’t been able to risk an attempt to leave Jedha since then. The Empire had some sort of deal with the Shu that allowed them access to the Kyber mines but that was it. 

“Perhaps it’s time we went to collect tithes, Brother Helvar,” Nina announces. She pulls up the hood of her robes and leans on her staff as she walks out from the temple. Matthias follows behind her with grumbled complaints under his breath. The occupants of the city are familiar with their dynamic, although they’re sure to vary the times they depart the temple. Routines are too predictable. 

Matthias doesn’t speak even as Nina stops to talk with every friendly face she sees. For the first year, he had complained at every moment, even as she explained to him the importance of blending in, of becoming part of the populace. Now he even lets the children climb on him when she stops to share a story about the saints. 

“They’re jumpy,” Lin shares with Nina in whispered tones, her eyes darting around the square even though there don’t appear to be guards around right now. “Jan said he saw stormtroopers preparing to enter the city.” 

Nina performs a blessing on an elderly man. “Any idea what they’re looking for?” 

“A pilot.” Lin shifts her daughter around on her hip. “Imperial pilot. You don’t want to get between the troopers and their goal. The Shu are looking for him too. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of their way.” 

Matthias moves closer. “And the pilot?” 

Lin glances at him and then back at Nina. She’s always been more skittish around men. It’s a look Nina’s uncomfortably familiar with and one she knows speaks to a violent past interaction. The way she grips her daughter just a bit closer breaks Nina’s heart. 

Nina nods encouragingly. 

“Down by the old refractory.” Lin freezes up as soon as the words escape her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise at what she just divulged. She darts away in a panic, leaving Nina and Matthias to continue to serve the poor with their usual tithes. 

By unspoken agreement, Matthias follows Nina’s lead as she takes them on a winding path. The last year and half of long meandering routes work in their favor as Nina leads them with more purpose. 

It feels good to have a purpose again. She hasn’t had contact with the Rebellion, but if this is big enough that the Empire is willing to fight the Shu for the interloper, then it’s big enough for the Rebellion to also be looking. The Empire has the strength to use brute force. The Rebellion will send Kaz Brekker. Per Haskell would be an idiot to send anyone else. 

As they get closer to their destination, Nina slows her pace and purposefully plays up her monk persona, passing out alms and blessings in equal measure. Matthias moves gruffly in her wake, watching her back in a way that might be suspicious if it hadn’t been his stable characteristic for the last two years. The Shu are used to their dynamic of the devout believer jaded sceptic. They had adopted the personas for safe passage before the Shu blockade and been forced to maintain it since then. 

It was useful, despite neither Nina nor Matthias being well versed in espionage. 

By the time they reach the old refractory buildings, Nina and Matthias are moving at a crawl, speaking to every person they see. Nina’s eyes scan the faces for one that looks out of place, one that screams uncertainty or distrust. 

She gets pointed down a dark alley by one of the urchins after she shares with him one of her precious jojo beans. It’s the closest she can get to her sweets in this city. She glances at Matthias and he nods. His body is intentionally relaxed, ready to move as necessary in response to a threat. 

Nina leads the way into the factory, looking around carefully as they move into the space. She breathes in deeply and sinks into the meditative state. The air around her settles, buzzing with the life force of the inhabitants of the city. In a couple of breaths, she narrows it further so she can feel the interior of the building. 

Matthias mutters under his breath, something about religious mumbo jumbo and insanity. 

Nina turns sideways and opens one eye to glare at Matthias. He rolls his eyes and gestures at her to continue.  

Her use of the Force is unrefined, based more in the faith that it will work than on actual knowledge about what she’s doing. It’s an old religion and the order they’re with is still respected even if not believed in. Okay, so maybe respected is pushing it. They’re disregarded as religious fanatics who don’t do much of anything. 

She follows the light of the Force through the factory, letting it guide her feet, trusting it to protect her from bumping into any of the clutter. Dimly, she senses Matthias grunt as he moves something out of her path before she hits it or it hits her. She keeps her focus on the life signature that shines like a beacon, coming to a stop once they’re in sight of the huddled mass. She opens her eyes and peers into the gloom. 

“We’re here to help you,” Nina says. Her soft voice carries around the large space. She ignores Matthias’s mutter about talking to herself. 

“Who...who are you?” A tremulous voice asks. It sounds younger than Nina expected, more uncertain. She thought a defector would be more hardened, more convinced of their path to go against the Empire in such a way. 

Nina squats down to look at the hunched over figure. Matthias has one hand hovering over his hidden firearm, the other on a dagger. She’s deep in her meditation of the Force and senses no danger from the huddled figure. 

“You’re the pilot, right?” Nina asks instead of answering. 

His eyes look her over, lingering on her and Matthias’s matching robes. “You’re priests?” 

He inches forward. There’s enough light cast on him that his Imperial uniform catches her eye, answering the question he avoids. She smiles softly at him and holds out her hand. Behind her Matthias shifts, disliking her proximity to perceived danger, if she has to guess. 

“Word on the street is you’re a defector. We’re here to help.”  

<hr> 

Wylan doesn't think he's ever been this cold in his life. Which is bizarre because this is a desert planet. You'd think it would be warm but instead he's found himself huddled in dark corners, scavenging like a rat for scraps for the last couple days while he tries to escape notice from the Shu. Jedha was supposed to be a safe haven for him, somewhere the Empire couldn't touch. The Shu had tried to grab him first, had detained him and demanded answers to their questions about the Empire. His protests that he wanted to defect fell on deaf ears. Then they'd dragged him into a cave with a beast they called Bor Gullet. 

It's a blur after that. 

He remembers waking in a cell to garbled words, a blurred hologram of his father glaring disdainfully down at him. A comment about the Empire being grateful to the Shu. Wylan doesn't know how he escaped. There's a memory of loud noise, a flash of heat, and dirt. Then it's all dark and cold. 

He'd avoided people after that, stuck to shadows, and only ventured out when the emptiness of his stomach threatened to eat him from the inside out. 

He doesn't even know how long it's been since he escaped the cell...or was released...he doesn't know. 

Then the woman appeared, like an angel out of the darkness and she promises salvation. 

Wylan knows enough of his father's games not to immediately trust the gesture. "Who are you?"  

“We’re with the Rebellion,” she says with a smile. 

The monk behind her rolls his eyes and turns away. They don’t look like any monks he recognises. The only person he’s heard of who truly follows the old religion is the Darkling and Wylan’s not so unfortunate to have ever seen him in person. “You don’t look like Rebels.” 

“He’s right. We don’t,” the man tells her. 

The woman looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in a glare. “Matthias Helvar.” She turns conspiratorially back to Wylan and there’s a friendly glint in her eye that makes him want to trust her. “Once he was the most devout of you all. Rose through the ranks of the Empire almost as high as they come. You want out of the Empire. We can help.” 

Wylan’s eyes drift over the man’s features and there’s something that reminds him of the way General Brum’s men carry themselves, the elite of the troopers he’s only seen from a distance. Wylan wants to string words together but they slip away like soap and water. 

“Will you come with us?” She prompts, yet again. 

He can’t combine the fears and hopes and questions into coherent sense. All he can do is nod in agreement. Whether they harm him or save him, he’ll be dead or caught if he stays here on his own. He needs allies and he’s not in a mental state where he can do much of anything himself. 

“Good,” she says. She pulls him forward and manhandles Wylan into a monk’s robe over his tattered pilot’s uniform. “I’m Nina. This is Matthias. We’re going to get you out of here alive. Good?” 

Wylan nods. She shoves a basket into his hands and drops additional bits of clutter from the warehouse floor into it. 

“We should be heading back,” Matthias rumbles. 

“Walk between us,” Nina instructs, pulling the hood of his robe up. Matthias mimics the movement. “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t talk to anyone. Just stay in step with us. We’ll speak for you if it comes to that.” 

Wylan has enough sense to nod along. He knows talking will only give away his current state of complete confusion. He can see the looks Nina and Matthias exchange in response to his silence. He’s not so lost that he doesn’t understand what’s going on but the thoughts take too long to reach his lips and disappear like fragrance on a breeze. 

The ground is dusty and uneven under Wylan’s feet. It captures his attention as he walks, so different from the metal hallways and corridors he’s used to walking.  His feet catch from where they scrape the ground and he tries to tell his body to lift his feet higher, but they don’t seem willing to respond any more than what they do by instinct. When was the last time he walked on anything that wasn’t steel? 

He’s so preoccupied by swirls of dirt that he walks right into a wall. 

Well, not a wall, but the giant monk - Matthias. He bounces off the man’s back, which feels like the equivalent of walking into a wall. The man doesn’t even move in response to him walking into him at full speed, but Wylan almost falls on his butt, and would if it wasn’t for Nina catching him. 

She steps past him to stand next to Matthias. She pushes him further into the shadows behind Matthias as she looks past him to see what’s grabbed his attention. Wylan shuffles sideways and ducks down so he can look around the hulking figures. 

The white helmets break through his current haze and Wylan stumbles backwards. The Storm Troopers followed him. He can’t allow himself to be captured, not after he finally escaped that place and his father’s restrictive control. 

“Wait!” Nina whispers harshly, but Wylan’s body is moving without his consent. The urge to get away is too strong. It drives him, haltingly, step-after-step through twisting and confusing alleyways. He’s not sure where he’s going except away. If he can get to a port, he’s sure he can fly a ship. 

Another flash of white Imperial helmets send him careening in another direction which leads him into a square. The sudden exposure leaves him disoriented and he spins around looking for another exit as a child is ushered into one house and shutters are slammed shut. Wylan gulps. He walks back and turns, running into someone for the second time. This time the person rocks as he crashes into them, but Wylan’s still the one wheeling back. 

He blinks at the man, carrying some sort of stick. He looks like he could belong here except that his eyes are too intent. It’s the kind of gaze you couldn’t stand for too long but are also scared to look away from. It takes him a second to notice the tiny girl at his side. She’s looking around, causally flipping a blade in her hand. The other rests on a blaster. Now that he realized that, Wylan notices the man is also armed. 

“Wylan Van Eck?” The man asks. 

Wylan blinks at him in shock. He’s helpless to do anything but nod. They’re not Empire and they don’t look like the Khergud who grabbed him, so they can’t be that bad. Or at least are likely better than the alternative.  

“Right. Time to be off. Let Jesper know we’ve got the package.” The man turns abruptly. 

Wylan glances at the girl who steps aside and gestures at him to follow. He hasn’t decided if he will when there are footsteps behind him. He twists back to see who’s following and breathes a little easier when the monks appear. Maybe monks are better than whoever the man is.  

Maybe he’s dead anyway. 

“Oh good. You’re here.” The man says. “We can all go then.” 

Nina smirks from where she’s bent over catching her breath. “Nice to see you too, Kaz. Been ages.” 

<hr> 

It’s convenient that they were able to find the pilot and Nina in one place. He would have trouble getting Inej and Jesper out of here with just the pilot. They’d had no communication with Nina, no way to get in contact with her once they were in the atmosphere. Kaz takes it in stride and moves back the way they came. The rest will follow and someone will make sure the pilot comes along with them. 

It would have been a fantastic escape. In and out with no trouble whatsoever. It would have been too lucky for him, so the storm troopers that come streaming racing around the corner where Nina and her friend emerged are hardly a surprise. The real unlucky bit is that they also appear in the two other access points to the square. 

The pilot looks ready to bolt. Nina and the second monk steps forward. Kaz respects the bulk of him and hopes that he’s good in a fight. If it were just him and Inej, they would split up and meet at the rendez-vous. The pilot is going to be the issue. 

“Halt. Surrender or you will be terminated.” 

Inej pushes Wylan behind her and toward Kaz. The boy curls in on himself. How he ever got up the courage to desert the Empire, Kaz hasn’t a clue. Now they just need to get him out of here with whatever valuable knowledge is worth breaking the standoff with the Shu. 

Kaz pushes him into a doorway, out of sight of the blasters. “Stay down.” 

The boy whimpers. 

Nina steps forward, hands raised in a deceptively helpless gesture. “Calm down. We’re all friends here.” 

“Stand down or we will open fire,” the trooper repeats. The entire line readies their weapons. Their blasters might be unreliable and clunky, but with so many firing, they’re bound to hit something. 

“You don’t want to shoot us.” Nina tries again. 

“That’s what you’ve got?” the second monk asks incredulously. 

She glares at him. Kaz watches Inej palm a blade and twirl it effortlessly in one hand. The harsh sunlight glints off the edge of the blade: steel instead of a laser edge many prefer. He knows she likes the way the old fashioned blades feel in her hand. They look like they belong in her grasp. 

Nina steps forward again, closer and closer to the troopers. “You’re not going to shoot us.” 

“Hand over the pilot.” The trooper says. From across the square, Kaz can hear the gun prep to fire. This isn’t working. 

“Yeah. That’s not going to happen,” he drawls from the back of the group. The second monk glares at him, but Kaz just twirls his kane, unbothered. It was going to come down to this anyway. There’s no point holding it off as more backup and fire power arrives to support the troopers. 

Shadows fall across the square and Kaz gets his first look at the notorious Khergud soldiers who have kept Jedha independent for the last two years. “Imperial Troopers. You have no authority in our city. The pilot is ours.” 

Nina, her monk, and Inej grow tense at the new party. Beside him the pilot starts to mutter under his breath, rocking back and forth. 

This actually works to their advantage as the troopers are forced to divert their attention. The Khergud fires directly at the troopers before jumping into the air. The troopers open fire, most on the Khergud, judging them to be the bigger threat. 

Inej seizes the moment to dive forward into the fight, taking out two opponents in moments before she’s engaged by one of the Shu soldiers. She moves like an acrobat, twirling through flailing limbs that breeze past her. She’s a force of nature. 

Kaz is distracted from his awe by a guard landing a few feet away and leaping for Wylan. He dispatches the soldier with a few whacks of his cane. He crumples under a well-placed hit to the temple. 

More troopers race toward the noise. They stop around the corner of an alley, firing from their protective spots and forcing the monk and Kaz to step back to cover. They lob a grenade into the square. Kaz takes two steps forward and hits it back with the metal head of his cane. It soars in a perfect arch back to the troopers, who scramble for cover too late. 

The monk nods in acknowledgment and moves to relieve Nina from her two enemies. Inej falls back as she takes out her opponent and the rest are distracted by Nina and the monk. She moves to stand alongside Kaz, stretching out the muscles she just used as she slips her blades back in their many holsters. The explosion rocks the block which takes out one contingent of troopers but they're met with more troopers and Shu, crawling out of the cracks like cockroaches. 

A moment later shots arc over their heads, rapid fire, each one hitting its target and leaving the recipients incapacitated.  

Kaz relaxes infintestimently. He'd been prepared to dive for cover. His hand twitches toward Inej but he knows she can take care of herself. She doesn’t need him trying to tackle her and throwing off her center of balance.  

A figure emerges along the roofline, a rifle resting against his shoulder. “There were an awful lot of explosions for people who were supposed to be blending in.” 

“I hope you’ve got an exit plan, Brekker,” Nina says. She diverts to the Imperial pilot after a glance at the monk. 

He nods and moves for the alley. “This way.” He glances at Inej and up at the roofline. She nods and follows his tacit directions. Kaz leaves her to do what she does best: cover them from the shadows. 

Kaz walks with purpose through the streets. Now that fighting has broken out, it appears that no one is holding back. Shu are fighting stormtroopers, troopers are fighting the Khergud and civilians are running for cover. Jesper’s  and Inej’s shadows move with them. The monk - who Kaz Brekker suspects is the Druskelle Nina mentioned before she went dark - leads the charge, with his long legs that eat up the ground in long strides. Nina covers their escape with a simple bo staff. 

“Where are we going?” The monk asks as he fires off a round of shots. 

“Left!” Jesper shouts as he crashes to the ground on the back of a Khergud soldier. “I don’t know why we ever thought this was going to be a quiet mission. And I still say we need a demolition expert.” 

“We’re spies, Jesper,” Kaz growls over the sound of battle. 

Jesper shoots him a cocky grin over his shoulder. “But this is so much more fun.” 

“There’s something wrong with you,” the monk mutters. 

“Kaz.” 

He looks sideways, unsurprised to find Inej at his shoulder, silent as always. He follows her gaze upwards and nearly stumbles to a stop. “Jedha doesn’t have a moon.” 

Nina and the monk stumble to a stop. Jesper glances up for a moment. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. It appeared out of nowhere. It’s too big to be a ship but moons don’t move.” 

“That’s it,” Wylan whispers. The pilot suddenly jolts into motion. “We have to go. Now!” 

Kaz is forced into an ungainly run. He tries not to notice Inej hovering at his elbow, keeping pace with him as they race toward the ship. The Imperial pilot is ahead of them all, heedless of laser bolts. Jesper yanks him back by the collar to direct him to the correct ship. 

As he reaches the ramp, Kaz starts to hear screams. 

“Jesper, get us out of here!” Kaz yells. Inej hits the control to shut the ramp as Jesper guns the engine. 

“What do you think I’m doing, Brekker? Buckle up. This ride’s about to get bumpy.” 

<hr> 

The whole world has turned upside down. Matthias isn’t sure what he’s doing, to be perfectly honest. Staying with Nina was a mutually beneficial proposition. They were stuck on a foreign planet, where the only people they could trust were each other. He’d become accustomed to their partnership and been shocked by how much he relied upon her. Now, looking at this ragtag group - so different from the ordered discipline of the elite Druskelle guard - Matthias is at a loss for how the Resistance has managed to become a thorn in the Empire’s side. 

He will admit that they were, like Nina, surprisingly capable and effective. However, he can’t hide how scandalized he is by their lack of any sort of recognizable chain of command. The trio moves like his old unit in that they’re so familiar with each other, they don’t need to shout out commands. But their actions of Jedha display an alarming disregard for a cohesive plan and seem to thrive on the chaos of the moment. 

“What was that?!” The boy with the cane asks, turning around to stare at the group before his eyes zero in on the unfortunate pilot. 

Matthias hasn’t gotten much from the boy, except that he stepped back from the fighting yet was clearly capable of surviving physical confrontation. Nina and his two companions seemed to defer to him as some sort of leader, which spoke to a sharp mind. Nina called him Kaz, which would indicate one of the high level members of Rebel Intelligence. He’s heard him referenced as a nightmare or a demon, spoken of in whispers and myths more than anything else. 

All in all: Matthias expected someone older. 

“That was the Death Star,” Wylan whispers. His eyes look haunted. 

Matthias frowns. “Impossible.” He starts when five sets of eyes jerk towards him in the silence of hyperspace. He grits his teeth. The word wasn’t supposed to be spoken out loud. “They’re decades away from creating that technology.” 

Wylan is shaking his head. “No. They found a scientist. Got him to create what they needed. I...I was able to get away. To warn the Rebellion. It’s a planet killer.” 

“A planet killer?” The small girl repeats. 

“Is that even possible?” Nina glances at him for confirmation. Matthias has no answer. It was only an idea when he was with the Druskelle last. Brum used to talk about it, but it was never close to a reality. Not then. 

“Why don’t you ask Jedha?” Kaz says. 

“We don’t know that it destroyed the whole planet,” the small girl points out. 

The boy doesn’t look away from where he stares out the window at the white streaks of stars passing in hyperspace. “At the very least, we know it destroyed the city. If the Empire has a weapon like that, we’re left defenseless.” 

“That’s why I was sent to find you,” Wylan says. He freezes when all eyes turn to him and he curls in on himself from his spot beside the pilot. Matthias has spent years in Imperial bases and has no idea how this pilot managed to get into the program, let alone became important enough to have access to this top secret project. It seems highly suspect to him. 

“Sent?” The boy asks, finally turning so his whole body faces the pilot. Matthias does have to admit he cuts an intimidating figure even as he leans on his cane. 

The pilot swallows. “The scientist. I was supposed to get to a contact they had with the Rebellion. There was someone I was supposed to connect with...the Wraith? But I got redirected…” He frowns. The more the pilot seems to search for words, the harder they seem to come. 

Matthias has seen this before. “He was captured by the Khergud. They most likely probed his mind using Bor Gullet. That’s how they dealt with any Imperial or Rebel spies they found.” He leans back against the steel hull. It actually feels good to be back in space again after being grounded for so long. 

It feels like freedom. 

The boy looks at Nina. She nods in confirmation. “It’s true. We only escaped detection because of the temple.” 

“Because all she would talk about was the Force,” Matthias mutters. He adjusts his muscles so they’re loose and he can react in an instant if needed. Nina drops into the space beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow as she settles in like a cat that can get comfortable anywhere. 

“I saved your life,” she says without opening her eyes. 

He grunts and doesn’t let his smile emerge.  

“The Wraith,” Kaz repeats, focusing on Wylan again. “What were you supposed to tell them?”

Wylan still looks nervous. “Well, I was supposed to pass on...a message...There’s a way to destroy it. A weakness.” 

“A weakness?” 

Wylan yanks at his hair. It’s useless to try to force him to remember more in his state. Matthias watches the trio of rebels to see what they’ll do at this obstacle. 

“He didn’t tell me,” Wylan whispers, clearly realizing this might not endear him to his rescuers at this point. “I was supposed to...bring someone back. They wanted...they wanted someone to rescue them, and they would share the weakness. I was just supposed to be the messenger. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” 

Kaz scowls and glances at the girl who looks at the man in the pilot’s seat, all having some sort of silent conversation. Matthias watches the interaction with interest.  

“Where is this base?” Kaz finally moves closer, crouching so he can look Wylan in the eyes. 

“Eadu.” 

Matthias vaguely recalls the outpost. Far from most of the known universe, it’s one of the Empire’s research bases. There’s not a huge platoon placed there for protection. It’s a secret base, kept out of the way, and by necessity sees few changes in personnel. There were a couple training missions on the planet to diversify the team’s experiences and analyze security procedures. 

“We don’t have anyone on Eadu,” the girl notes. 

“Because Eadu’s on lockdown. Nothing in or out that isn’t high level.” The boy flying the craft throws over his shoulder. “Out of the flight academy, I only stopped there once because they needed a supply run immediately. They didn’t even let me off the shuttle. To be a pilot there, you’d have to have some pretty impressive clearance.” 

Matthias alters his assessment of the crew that got them off Jedha. To get through the Imperial Flight Academy is impressive. The man also demonstrated impressive aim and combat skills. Despite not being highly regimented, they do appear to be a solid team. He glances down at Nina. 

“So in order to get the information on the weakness, we have to go to Eadu,” the girl says. She’s twirling a knife in her hands, one with a true steel blade like he hasn’t seen in ages. Her comfort with it is another mark in their favor. 

“Jesper’s right. It’s impenetrable. We haven’t managed to get anyone on the inside.” Kaz taps his fingers on the head of his cane. 

“So we go.” The girl shrugs. “We redirect. We need to find a way to beat this thing or millions more are going to die.” 

“Procedure is to report for further orders. We’ve got the pilot.” Kaz looks at her with a heavy look. 

“Matthias can help.” Nina elbows him as she speaks up. 

He scowls down at her as everyone turns to stare at him. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes to betray him. 

“I’m not a traitor.” Matthias glares at the lot of them. 

“You’ll help,” Nina says with a self-assuredness he’s come to hate over the last couple of years. Because as irksome as it is, she’s usually right about these things. They both know it. 

“We’re supposed to just trust a stranger on your word?” Jesper asks. 

“Get twisted, Fahey. You know my word is good.” 

Kaz and the woman - whose name Matthias still doesn’t know - have another silent conversation. She turns to look at him, her eyes speculative. Kaz leans closer to her. “You think you can do this?” 

She doesn’t take his eyes from Matthias. Her knives continue the casual twisting in her hand. She shrugs and looks back at the mastermind. “It is our kind of job.” 

Kaz nods. “Jesper, alter course. Van Eck, help get him close without being seen. Matthias, you need to tell us everything you know, and quickly.” 

“Why should I?” 

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to make your life very unpleasant.” 

“How do you even know the pilot is right? How do you know there really is a weakness? This could be a trap.” It sounds like the kind of thing Jarl Brum would think up to capture Rebel spies.

“Faith,” Nina says. “This is the right choice.” She finally sits up and stretches. 

Matthias rolls his eyes at her religious display. He sighs. “I can tell you what I know. It could still be a trap.” 

“The pilot is Wylan Van Eck. He’s on my list of potential informants. He became an Imperial pilot because of familial connections. It’s how he has access to sensitive information. We know they’re working on something on Eadu. If this is what he says, then we need that information.” The girl explains it in an even voice. 

“And if there isn’t a secret weakness?” 

Kaz and Inej exchange a long look.  

“Then we find another way to blow it up,” Jesper supplies. 

Matthias isn’t sure he likes the looks of glee on their faces. 

“So how do we get in?” 

The girl turns to look at Matthias, her dark eyes just the slightest bit terrifying now that he’s actually getting a good chance to size her up. She tends to fade into the background and let her comrades take charge, but definitely is not to be underestimated. He stares at her and then glances at Kaz. 

“Inej is a ghost,” Nina says. “She can get in and out without anyone noticing.” 

He looks her over, still assessing. This moment, more than any in the last two years of surviving, feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff. The last two years he could justify to his superiors: he was surviving a hostile planet, he had to get close to Nina or he would have died, he was trying to learn the secrets of the Rebel scum. This was different. If he does this, he’s helping the Rebel cause. He’s actively going against everything he’s ever learned.

Nina hits him in the shoulder, as if sensing his internal conflict. She twists upright to look at him and raises an eyebrow in challenge. 

He can hear her voice in his head, berating him for his strict no-nonsense rules and his consuming hatred for anything that goes against the order of the Empire. There were countless debates as they marched through Jedha, each an intellectual exercise. He can honestly say that he doesn’t believe the Empire is never wrong, but is that enough to make him give up their secrets? 

“They murdered everyone in Jedha,” she whispers to him softly. “Lin, Mauri, Katya…” She closes her eyes against the pain. 

He wants to wrap her in his arms and pull her close. Nina feels everything so deeply, unable to stop herself from connecting with everyone she meets. He wants to protect from that pain, to comfort her. Those lives lost today. They were innocents. People that should have been protected and instead… 

He opens his eyes and nods his agreement to Nina. 

She grins, life and joy filling her back up as she bounces around in her seat, the way she gets excited whenever they found something reasonably sweet on Jedha. “Matthias meet Inej. Inej, meet Matthais. He’s a little shy but he knows what’s at stake.”

It’s like shedding a piece of armor or throwing off the last vestiges of who he once was. There’s no turning back now, and he has surprisingly little regret as he opens his eyes and asks the first damning question: “Where do you want to start?”

... 

Look out for Part II on 9/9!

#gvbb21 #gvbbfic21 #hearts of kyber #rogue one au #kanej #helnik #wesper #star wars au

[dreamescapeswriting]

His Mistress ~ JJK [Request]

⇢⇢⇢Word Count: 4K

⇢⇢⇢Genre: fluff, angst, AU.

⇢⇢⇢Pairing: Emperor!Jungkook x Concubine!Reader

Everyone had heard the stories about Emperor Jungkook and his wife, the empress. They'd only married because Jungkook needed to have a wife before he could become king and she'd only accepted because her father wanted money and power. Which he got, he got his own smaller palace inside of Joseon and he got all the money he wanted from his daughter, using her to get the things he needed in life.

"I heard they aren't getting on so well in the bedroom if you know what I mean," One of the kitchen ladies said to the other while you were washing dishes that morning. They were all much older than you were but that was because you were a new worker in the kitchen palace and were assigned all of the duties no one else wanted to do, dishes, waiting on the empress and making sure everything was cleaned after the day had come to an end. Everyone else there was more experienced with the job and with life since they were much older than you, the only other younger girls there were their daughters so they hadn't had to do the duties you were being put through. 

Though you knew it wasn't good to eavesdrop on conversations this one was intriguing to you because the job you had taken was your grandmothers before she was put in the hospital and she'd given you details about the empress and emperor. Always fighting with one another, making a scene in the palace halls but on the outside of the palace, they were seen as the perfect couple. 

"Is it her or him though?" Another elderly woman in the kitchen said in a shrill voice - it sounded like a witch in your opinion and whenever she spoke to you it sends shivers down your spine - You put your head down, wanting nothing more than to get the dishes done before going to visit your grandma in the hospital wing. 

"I'm sure one of us will find out soon enough if the Emperor isn't satisfied with his queen he'll look for a concubine soon." The words cut through you like a knife, paying somebody to be your mistress, sleeping with him just because he ordered it seemed disgusting to you. Sex was supposed to be between two people who loved one another, not a man with too much power than he knew what to do with. The room fell silent the moment the doors to the kitchen slid open, the court lady had walked in and stared at everyone. She hated gossip and she hated when everyone talked instead of worked hard.

"Y/n! Serving duty and then you may leave." She ordered not even looking in your direction, you dried off your hands and went to change into the correct Hanbok for the dining room, ignoring the looks you got as you raced past other workers who had thrown you under the bus to serve the emperor and his wife. It wasn't a job that anybody wanted since the Empress made it her lives mission to make every girl who served her cry but you were tough, your grandmother had raised you not to cry in front of anyone. To wait until you were home or out of sight to cry, never let anyone see you weak. If they know your weaknesses they use it against you.  

The doors slid open and you kept your head down at the floor as you laid out their food for them, you'd only been there a week and the Empress had already tried to make you cry. She'd taken hits at the way you looked and why you worked in the palace, she would try anything with everyone but you let it all go. Washing over you because none of it mattered, the job was good pay and you needed it to be able to look after your grandmothers hospital bills.

"You may leave." She spat at you but Jungkook smirked as he watched you backing out of the room, his wife wasn't watching so she hadn't seen the eyeroll you'd given her but Jungkook had. It made you stand out from everyone else that had been in the room before you. All the other people that had worked in there let it go or broke down into tears in front of them both but you seemed to speak back but ina way that wouldn't get you killed and he liked that about you. He beckoned his royal guard over and whispered in his ear to find you and have you wait for him wherever you would be that night. Not only were you beautiful but he could tell that his wife didn't like you meaning you would be a pleasure to be around while being a torture for his new wife.

"The emperor wishes to speak to you, I advise you do not leave." You stared up at the royal guard, he'd followed you all the way to the kitchen quarters where you were now standing in front of all the girls. You were sure they were all coming up with their own stories about why he was wanting to see you, the main one being the concubine one but you weren't interested in the position or to be a part of all of their stories so you walked away from the door and away from the shouting guard who was trying to get you to go back to him.

"You ran from a palace guard?" Your grandmother asked as you sat down beside her bed, you nodded and took her hand into yours. 

"Said the Emperor wanted to talk to me but he's been looking for a concubine and I don't want that job," You told her as you added a blanket over her body. She was getting older and sicker with every day, you didn't want to be down at the palace but this was the only way she would get the proper care she needed. 

"If he orders you to do something you can't say no. He's our emperor, he rules over everything." She coughed into tissue and you looked away pretending not to see the blood on the handkerchief that you'd made for her.

"She's right," You gasped standing up and putting your arms to the side as if doing so would protect her from whoever was inside the room. Your eyes glanced at Jungkook as he bowed to your grandmother, he remembered her from when he was a child playing in the kitchens. 

"I see you're not in good health, what's wrong?" You went to tell him that it was none of his business but your grandmother began to speak for herself. 

"Halmeoni!" You cried out in Korean but she waved her hand at your face and explained what was wrong, 

"It's nothing but a cold, but because of the fires, I used to work near...Well, it's not doing so good for my lungs." Jungkook nodded in understanding and questioned whether or not there was something he could do to help. 

"No, I can take care of her. The job at the palace is more than enough Sir," He smirked knowing that the Concubine position he wanted you to take would pay more than enough for you and your grandmother's health. 

"May I speak with you alone?"

"No, I have to-"

"She'd be glad to follow you out Sir," You glared at your grandmother and followed him out into the small yard that was outside her room. The hospital wing was a large square around a small garden where the patients could go and sit. You walked over to one of the benches and sat down, 

"It's customary to let the Emperor sit down fist, but I'll let it go since you clearly don't want me here anyway." He sat down beside you and you stared at the flowers that were growing next to the bench. 

"You don't like me do you?" He questioned, breaking the silence that was in the air. It was pitch black outside except for the lanterns that were lightening up all four corners of the garden, 

"You don't remember me do you?" You mumbled turning to look at him, he stared at your face as he tried to place where he knew you from. There was one thing that no one knew about you and Jungkook and that was that you had a history. As a kid, your grandmother would sneak you into the palace while she worked you'd spend hours upon hours playing with the other children that came with their parents and there was one boy that was always singled out

"I'm Y/n," You stuck out his hand to shake and he took it in his hand shaking it as you sat down beside him in front of the lake. 

"Why don't the other kids like you?" You questioned, giving him half of a sandwich and then looking around. All of the other kids your age avoided him like he was the plague but you thought he was okay, he'd never done anything to hurt anyone and he was always trying to play with the other kids.

"I'm Kookie, and I'm not like them so they single me out." You sighed and bit down into your sandwich. 

"I like you, you're cool. We'll be best friends forever." You hugged him from the side and then pulled him up from the floor. 

You'd spent every day together since you were kids until you turned 16 and learnt his true identity, he wasn't just 'Kookie' he was Prince Jungkook and once he turned 16 things changed. He grew distant towards you because he had to focus on his studies while you focused on kitchen training, while he focused on training for a battle you trained on how to do the washing with your grandmother. You weren't kids allowed to run wild anymore, you were forming into young adults who had to learn the ways of life.

"Kookie, you're all grown up." You said with a sad smile on your face and that's when it hit him. 

"Y/n?" You nodded and he practically jumped off the bench and starting laughing at the memories you had shared together as kids. Giving you stories that you knew by heart and then some that you'd forgotten but not the most important one. Your first kiss. It was his first kiss too and it was just something that happened and went unnoticed by him but to you, the first kiss meant everything. It was what made you fall in love with him when you were teenagers and kept you in love with him until now, 24 years old and still in love with your childhood crush who had clearly moved on. 

"We were 17 and hiding out under one of the trees by the lake! I remember because you'd brought one of your grandmother's sandwiches again." He started to laugh at the memories and then he frowned looking at you you didn't look as happy about the memory as he did. 

"I kissed you because I knew I was getting married and didn't want to..." He said slowly as he remembered why the kiss had happened in the first place, you looked down at your hands and nodded. 

"Well, that's life." You laughed getting up from the bench and going back to your grandmother but he took your wrist in his grasp to stop you from moving. 

"I have something to offer you."

"Look, your highness, I don't want the job." You started using your honorifics since nurses were starting to see why Jungkook was in the hospital wing but he hadn't let go of you. 

"People are looking." He let go and you walked back to your grandmother's room looking in at her and smiling as she slept soundly, her breathing was ragged but she was still sleeping soundly. 

"If you take it she'll get the proper treatment she needs and she'll be healthy." His hand was placed on your shoulder and you stared at it, you knew that taking the job would include having sex with him whenever he wanted and in return, you would get money, clothes, jewellery and now apparently your grandmother's healthcare.

"I can't." You whispered to him looking down at the floor, 

"Why not?" 

"A woman my age, unmarried Jungkook. Put it together." You mumbled shoving your shoulder away so his hand would fall. You walked into the room and kissed your grandmother on the head. 

"Goodnight Halmeoni," You whispered before leaving the room but Jungkook continued to follow you even as you made your way out of the palace and into the commoner's area. 

"You've never had sex-" You clapped your hand over his mouth to stop him from saying it any louder than he already had and he smirked at you from under your hand. 

"It's not funny. I wanted to wait." He started laughing and you pushed him away, suddenly it was like you were teenagers again and it didn't matter that he was the Emperor. He followed you back to your house and you stared at him as he looked around at the small hut you lived in, 

"It's small,"

"You live in a palace. This is fine." You told him as you walked through to your kitchen and tried to avoid him. 

"Why did you follow me home?"

"It's dark out, wanted to make sure you got home okay and to make sure you pack your clothes since you'll be moving into the palace." You scoffed at him while shaking your head. 

"I am not moving into the palace." He licked his teeth and nodded at you,

"Oh but you are, it's an order from me...Your Emperor. I'll have your grandmother taken care of and I'll make sure she's safe." You knew it was a losing battle so you just agreed. You didn't want to fight him on it knowing it would result in a loss anyway, at least this way your grandmother would be healthy again soon. 

Four months had passed and you were still his concubine only, you hadn't had sex. He would take you out around the palace gardens like when you were kids and you would spend hours talking, laughing and joking about things that you had in common which you didn't think would be a lot but there was. 

"It's been four months since you agreed to do this with me," He said as you walked by the lake, you were dressed in a white laced goddess styled dress instead of a Hanbok. Every set of clothing you'd been given to wear was white and you assumed it was because Jungkook wanted to let everyone know that you were pure. He knew how awful the rumours could be around the palace, he was a kid once and he'd heard his fair share of them as well. 

"You mean it's been four months since you forced me into becoming your best friend." You laughed it off, on your first night in the palace he'd come to your room and you thought it was for sex but you just talked. It was all you ever did together, talk, eat and just have engaging conversations so you assumed it was because he never got to do that with his wife. 

"She can't be happy with all of this," You nodded your head over to his wife who was staring down at you both from the palace entrance, she'd made it clear from the day you stepped in as his 'concubine' that she hated you. 

"She's an idiot," Jungkook laughed and you shook your head at him as he insulted her. He walked you down over a small bridge and you were now sitting on one of the gazebos that sat on the water.

"Why aren't you married yet?" Jungkook asked randomly as you sat looking down at the fish in the water, you knew the real reason but you had to come up with some kind of excuse as to why you hadn't yet. 

"The right guy never came along." But he had, he had and he was perfect but he was Emperor and married and asking you to be his concubine. You'd been in love with him since you were 12 but love at the age was nothing but a crush until you were 17 and the kiss you shared made you experience real love. 

"You're in love with someone else." You scoffed at him and shook your head, unaware that Jungkook knew all of the tell-tale signs of when you were lying to him. 

"Who is it? Do I know them?" You shook your head trying to change the subject when it hit him, you weren't looking at him, you'd moved further away from him and you were shutting all body language off to him. 

"I have to go check on Halmeoni," You scrambled up from the floor trying to leave but he gripped onto both of your arms making you face him. 

"It's me isn't it."

"I have to go-" You were cut off when his lips met yours and like all those years ago by the lake you had your kiss with Jungkook. The air was pulled from your lungs and everything around you faded into the background, you wrapped your arms around his neck drawing him closer to you and he wrapped his arms around your waist. Fireworks were exploding in your stomach, everything was heightened. His touch, the way his tongue felt when it fought yours for dominance and the way his thumb rubbing softly on your hips as he pulled away to let you get some air. He stared down at you as he realised that was the most passionate kiss he'd ever had even though he was married, he ran his thumb over your bottom lip to stop you from biting it and you stared at him, lust taking over everything in your body. All you wanted was him kissing you again. 

"Can you come to my room again tonight?" You whispered as you walked off the gazebo together and back onto the pavement around the lake, 

"Sure. I'll see you later," He kissed you cheek and ran off in the opposite direction of you while you smiled to yourself and headed towards the hospital to see your grandmother and tell her what had happened between you both. 

"So this is why he's not slept with you yet?" You turned to see Jungkook's wife in the door so you got up to bow but she held her hand up to stop you. 

"She's sick?" You nodded and she walked over to look at your grandmother closely. She'd gotten a lot better since Jungkook had agreed to make sure she was getting the correct treatment.

"What is my husband to you?" She questioned but you looked at your grandmother who was waking up, 

"He's my Emperor who I serve." Your grandmother kept her eyes closed and held up one finger to shush you from talking to her, she wanted to see what the Empress was trying to do. 

"You're useless to him, I please him in the bedroom so I have no idea why you're even here. He's in love with me." You nodded at her, 

"He loves you, your highness, I'm merely there to keep him company during the day while you please him at night." She smiled and gripped the back of your hair in her hand, 

"You're nothing but a filthy mistress, do I make myself clear?" She dropped you once you repeated back to her that you were nothing and she left out of the door again. 

"She's no good for nothing little farm girl with too much power, you ignore her." You smiled softly at your grandmother and thought back to what you'd asked Jungkook to do that night, inviting him over seemed like a brilliant idea at the time but now you thought about it and how she'd reacted to you just being friends it wasn't a good idea.

Jungkook stared at you as you knelt on the floor in front of him, 

"You cancelled on me last week and you've been avoiding me since...What happened?" You kept your eyes cast on the floor, you were in the throne you and have no idea where the Empress was and where she could come from at any moment. 

"I asked you a question." His voice was stern and you knew he was angry with you, you weren't going to tell him about his wife.

"I realised what I did was a mistake, I wanted to fix it."

"A mistake?" You nodded and avoided his gaze as he looked you up and down trying to find the signs of you lying but you weren't giving them away to him.

"With all due respect Sir, I'm not sure why you have me when you have a wife who is very capable of managing your needs." He was taken back,

"Managing my needs? Is that what you think you're for?" You nodded at his question, 

"A concubine serves no purpose except to please her master in any way he sees fit. I'm useless to you since your wife takes care of you herself." He huffed and you looked up to see him facing away from you as he stared at the wall in front of him. 

"You're far from useless Y/n, god and you're kind of stupid." He dropped the whole Emperor act and you scoffed at him looking away and shaking your head. 

"Then if I'm so stupid why am I here?" 

"Because I'm in love with you too!" He yelled and you stumbled backwards a little, he didn't yell out of anger but out of pent up frustration. The moment he'd kissed you that second time at the lake it brought back all the emotions he'd felt when he was 17 and you kissed there. It scared him but he knew that you were the one for him, that he was in love with you, always had been and always would be.

"Jungkook I-"

"Don't say you don't love me because your grandmother and I already know you love me." You stared at him, 

"You talk to her?" He nodded and sat down on his throne rubbing his temples as he thought back on everything. 

"I go to see her when I can't sleep and you're asleep. We talk about you and we discuss how you feel about me and how I feel about you." You got up from the kneeling position and stared over at him.

"You have a wife."

"Not anymore, she's gone." 

"Gone?! You killed her?!" You panicked and starting laughing while shaking his head,

"No, I didn't kill her. We're separated." Your heart picked up as he mentioned that they were separated. 

"I thought you weren't allowed to divorce." He nodded, 

"Which is why we're separated. She gets her own space and money to do with what she likes, I get my kingdom and my girl." He looked at you and smiled softly, 

"If you'll agree to be my girl." You smiled cockily at him as he came down to you and ran his hand over your cheek, 

"Your girl?"

"Yeah, we do everything we've been doing but I get to show you off at balls, you sit beside me on the throne, and eventually when me and she who shall not be named have been separated for long enough...My wife." You smiled at him and nodded, 

"I'd love to be your girl Jungkook." He smiled and placed his hands on your hips taking in a deep breath and sighing, 

"Then as my girl, I want to take you out to dinner. Me, you and your grandmother. We'll go out or we will go to her." You agreed with him and he kissed you lovingly on the lips, the fireworks inside of you exploded again and your head span as you kissed him. 

"I love you." He whispered as he pulled away, running his hand over your cheek and then kissing where he'd rubbed. 

"I love you too Kookie," You whispered back to him, walking out of the throne room hand in hand so you could go and find your grandmother.

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @snowy-meowl​ @lynnthevirgo​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @fan-ati--c​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts imagine #bts imagines #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #kim namjoon #namjoon #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, some mild smut.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: All I can say is: I’m sorry. My head is a strange place.

Chapter 29

  “Marcus!! Oh, get that sweet tush over here and hug me, and you better make it a good one after you’ve neglected to visit my cave for longer than these magic hands care to remember.”

  You already loved Velma.

  “Hey, Vel. I’m sorry, I’ve been preoccupied.”

  He did hug her, and properly too, as well as about 10s longer than what would be considered socially acceptable for mere friends, without either of them seeming to find it weird or awkward at all.   You still loved her.

  “Thank you, my darling. You’re forgiven. Now, tell me what you’ve brought me?”

  He beamed at you. He really did love any opportunity to show you off, but he seemed especially pleased about this introduction.

  “Velma, this is my fiancé. Hermosa, as you’ve undoubtedly gathered – this is the one and only Velma.”

  “Your fi… You’re getting… And you’re here. You brought her to me! Are you…?”

  “Yes. I am. On both counts.”

  “YES!! Thank the Greek fucking Gods!! A wedding-dress, and for you, my darling, of all people! Thank you.”

  “Well, technically it’s for her.”

  “Oh, no, sugar. The dress is for the groom. The shoes – are for the bride.”

  She finally set all of her glorious attention on you.

  Velma was a drag-queen, and the most awe-inspiring individual you’d ever seen. Everything about her was superior. She was taller than anyone else in the room, helped by fucking spectacular plateau shoes, she was broad-shouldered and muscular to boot. She carried herself like an empress, with a kind of stillness and real elegance, despite having so much flare and finesse to her. And even though she was covered in colours and sparkles, she somehow looked like she would belong absolutely anywhere.   And when she actually looked you in the eye, you could almost feel her read the pages of the book that was your life, and yet, there was nothing intimidating about it.

  “Well, now. There’s a lot of story here, isn’t there?”

  “A bit. Yeah.”

  “Mm. Alright then, come with me, darling. I demand to know every little detail about the woman my Marcus has chosen.”

  She turned dramatically, and headed for a side-door in the studio workshop where you were, and you looked at Marcus with a wide grin.

  “She’s coming to the wedding.”

  “Don’t worry – she’s on the list.”

  “I don’t care about any list. She’s coming. I need that amount of sparkle at my wedding. And I’m not just talking about the clothes.”

  He chuckled happily as he watched you literally skip over to the open door, and disappear inside.

-----

  Three weeks later, you finally got around to getting your house sold. It was a fairly quick sale since the neighbourhood was nice and the yard was bigger than most other properties on that street. And since you didn’t really need the extra money, you could give the young couple that fell in love with it, a kind price.   You weren’t really particularly sorry to see it go, but you were very happy to see it fall into the hands of people who would appreciate it. For a long time, that house had been your refuge, your safe harbour when life got hard, and you wished that it could be the same for someone else.   You put the bulk of the money in your savings-account, and ear-marked the rest for wedding-expenses.   There still wasn’t really any actual planning going on, as far as dates and times and venues were concerned. But you and Marcus were still getting through a lot of the stuff that goes on around the actual day.   You’d settled on what colours you wanted for the flowers, and what types they should be. You’d had an almost outrageously fun day last weekend, trying out the recipes for all the wedding-cakes you’d both found online. And after soiling literally every inch of the kitchen with flour, and tasting so many different cakes your taste-buds had eventually given up, you had managed to conclude that you wanted a lemon-flavoured one. Missy had tried to get you onto the chocolate-train, but you’d held your ground, with the promise that there would indeed be chocolate present, just not in the cake.   You’d completed the guest-list, and chosen the invitation cards, but they were safely stowed away in a drawer, still unwritten.   It wasn’t that you were stalling or didn’t feel ready. You were just genuinely enjoying the preparations, and not having that deadline made them feel like they were just fun things to do over a weekend, rather than things you had to do to be ready in time. Especially since Missy loved being a part of it too, it made the whole thing feel like a prolonged family event.

  By now, the only thing that was still on the prep-list was Marcus’ suit, but you’d both agreed not to make any decisions on that until you’d seen what Velma did with your dress.   You’d spent two whole days in her cave, getting your measurements taken and your skin-tone evaluated. There were about a hundred things about your body that she’d wanted to know, but you trusted her with your life already, so you’d happily complied.   Plus; any excuse to spend time with her was a good one.   Work was finally becoming manageable again, as you’d finally caught up on all the stuff that was trailing behind, and you were deliberately keeping any and all new projects firmly steered in other directions or delegating them onto other designers. You had enough on your plate with just getting through the already started ones, on top of the wedding-planning.   Today had been a good day, so far, and you’d decided to go and find Marcus and see if he had time to join you for lunch.   When you approached his office, his door was open and you could hear Tech talking. Not wanting to interrupt, you stopped outside and out of sight, while you waited for their conversation to finish. You picked up your phone to send an e-mail while you waited.

  “I can’t believe that building was still standing after that.”

  “Crushing lost control for three seconds. Let’s just be grateful it wasn’t longer.”

  “Oh, I remember that time back in the beginning when he was out of it for like 20 seconds.”

  “I think most of Colombia remembers that, too.”

  “Probably.”

  “Hey, um. Speaking of losing control…”

  “What?”

  “Well, there’s a certain office on the other side of the building that gets a fair bit of noise-complaints.”

  You snapped out of your e-mailing and instinctively turned your head to listen closer.

  “Stay out of it, Tech.”

  “Hey, I’m not the filing them, and I never will. I’m all for healthy appetites. Just wondering if you’re aware of the fact that a lot of people are talking about you guys?”

  “So? Let ‘em talk.”

  “Sure. But they’re not talking about it being a nuisance or inappropriate. They’re talking about how the hell you can keep it up for three hours straight sometimes. Is that true, though?”

  You weren’t sure if you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you, or if you wanted to go find these people and tell them to mind their own business.   There was a brief pause before Marcus answered, and his voice was a bit lower than before.

  “It is. I seriously can’t get enough of her. Ever. No matter how tired I get, I can always go another round.”

  “That’s kind of amazing. How do you ever get anything done?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Any idea when the knot-tying might be happening?”

  “No. I’m dying to do it, to the point where I have to repeatedly tell myself not to just beg her to go to Vegas with me. But I also really wanna get it right, you know? Not necessarily perfect; just right. Right for us. And I want her to feel ready, so that she can just relax and enjoy that day, whenever it happens.”

  Your heart swelled to an almost painful size behind your ribs.

  “I am ready, honey.”

  You stepped over the threshold and watched as his expression turned from confusion to realisation as he saw you.

  “You wouldn’t have to beg. I’d go to Vegas with you right now if you asked. I’ve told you; I don’t really care how it happens. I’m enjoying the preparations and everything we’re doing together, but even if nothing ever got used, I wouldn’t feel like I missed out on anything. You’re the one that wanted the traditions, remember?”

  Tech excused himself at that point, and closed the door behind him after he left.

  “Do you still want all that, Marcus?”

  He looked so torn.

  “Damned it… Yes. I really do.”

  “Then let’s pick a date. Let’s find a place that feels right and let’s make it happen.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Are you ready?”

  He shot up from his chair and was suddenly holding your waist, staring into your eyes.

  “Ah, mi novia, I’ve been ready for a long time.”

  His hands migrated down to your ass, and you let him squeeze you to him. You were wearing a simple blue summer-dress today, and he quickly found his way underneath it, letting his hands run up your thighs and relieve you of your panties.   Then he pulled you along to the sofas, sitting down and urging you to straddle him.   It was almost strange how calm it was. The two of you were always so heated, so passionate whenever you came together, to the point where it was almost always beyond your control, or at least, on the very edge of it.   But this time, there was no tearing at each other’s clothes. No hands desperately grasping, needing and demanding more. No burning heat that made you feel empty and aching until he entered you.   The heat did come, but gradually. With each caress, each tender kiss and each movement of your bodies together, it slowly built from an ember to a flame.   Your walls actually allowed him to move inside you this time, and as you rocked yourself over him, a completely different kind of pleasure to what you’d become used to with him, built inside your core and seemed to reach towards your heart, instead of your sex.   After a while, he turned you both to the side so he could lay you down and settle himself on top of you, and that feeling that was creeping towards your chest, drastically intensified. He drove into you in long, strong thrusts that buried him as deep as your bodies would allow, each time, and his throat made involuntary little sounds of pleasure every time he returned into your wet and welcoming warmth.   It took you nearly thirty minutes to build to a climax this time, and when it finally hit, it was strong in a completely different way than it ever had been before. Your bodies didn’t curl or clench in on themselves, there were no involuntary power-outbursts, no levitation. But it felt like you were underneath each other’s skin. Like your hearts actually melded into one through the intricate contact of your skin and nerves.   It was utterly overwhelming and there were tears streaming from your eyes throughout the whole climax. And they didn’t stop, even after you’d come back down.   There was no pain or sorrow anywhere inside you in that moment, so you concluded that these were tears of pure love and you made no effort to stop them. You just held him close and waited for the feeling to burn itself out.   He burrowed his face into your neck while you laid there, feeling the tears as they passed over onto his cheek on their way down, but making no comment about them. He knew what they were, and it made him love them too.

  You took a late lunch together, and since the pills were working perfectly and the lab had been able to produce several months-worth already, you could enjoy eating like a normal person these days.   Marcus really did miss your stomach-bear, though, and he would occasionally drop comments like ‘this is one of those moments when mama bear would have roared’, and you felt a little bit sorry for him. It was like he’d lost a puppy.   While you ate, you started discussing what places you thought might be nice for a venue.

  “Churches are nice, but a bit… I hesitate to say ‘stuffy’.”

  “Yeah. They feel so formal, like you’re not allowed to have fun, and I really want us and our guests to feel like we’re allowed to have fun.”

  “Definitely. So, what about restaurants?”

  “Not my thing, if I’m honest, hermosa.”

  “I figured. Pavilion?”

  “Now, we’re talking. A big one, with lots of decorations and a dance-floor!”

  “You and your dancing.”

  “Oh, no; you’re the dancer, remember?”

  “And your foxtrot is adequate, but your waltz needs some work.”

  “Thanks. So, do we know of any potentially available pavilions, or are we gonna have to build one?”

  “Don’t you worry about that, sugar-plum, if it’s a pavilion you’re looking for – I know the perfect one.”

  Velma approached your table, wearing an even more daring outfit than last time you’d seen her. As always, she made a show of eyeing Marcus up and down and making appreciative noises to showcase his hunky-ness. And, as always, Marcus just smiled and let her do her thing.

  “Where is it?”

  “Didn’t I just tell you not to worry? I’ll take you to see it later if you want, but for now – I need to borrow your little cherry, here. Time to dolly you up, hon.”

  “It’s finished?”

  “Literally seconds ago. I came to find you right away, I need to see it on you before I can definitively say that it’s done.”

  Marcus beamed at you both while Velma slipped her arm through yours and led you back to her cave.

  Somehow, you’d expected it to be difficult to get into, or at least require assistance, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t a big or flaunty thing, nor was it heavy or complicated in its design. And yet, there was something so special about it.   It was snow-white with a hint of gold to the shimmer in the fabric, to match the rings. It was an off the shoulder style dress, with long sleeves in the most beautiful lace you’d ever seen, that carried over into the body of the dress as well, though it was purely ornamental there, as the actual body was made from satin.   From the waist down, there was no lace, but tiny golden details had been sewn into the satin and it made the dress come alive somehow.   The skirt was cleverly designed, so that it billowed out just a little, but without getting puffy, and it was still just two layers, making it easy to handle and comfortable to move in. There was no train, but she had made you a vail in the same exquisite lace, in case you decided that you wanted one.

  “Oh, my. Honey… I thought it looked gorgeous on the mannequin, but damn! You make this dress.”

  “It’s perfect, Velma. It’s everything I didn’t know I wanted.”

  “Marcus is gonna swoooooon…”

  “He’s gonna love it.”

  “Well, just make sure to have someone strong standing next to him so they can catch him when he inevitably goes down.”

  You just smiled at her.

  “Oh, and thank you for the shoes. You’re right, I’m gonna love these a lot more than the dress before the night’s over.”

  “You got that right, Cherie.”

  You met up with Marcus as soon as you were done in the cave, and the smile that lit up his face when he saw you carrying the special box that housed the dress, shoes and vail, could have put the sparkles in Velma’s very short skirt to shame.

  “You actually have it? It’s finished?”

  “It’s right in here.”

  He looked positively squirmy with anticipation.

  “And it’s even more beautiful than anything you’ve imagined. Trust me.”

  He chuckled.

  “I do.”

  Velma took you out to see the pavilion she’d mentioned, and it really was perfect. It sat on several acres of green lawns and meadows, with a large pond not too far from the structure. You could have the ceremony out on the grass, overlooking the water, and put up a canopy over the tables and chairs for the dinner and cake. And then move over to the pavilion for the dancing and fun-times. There were huge old oak-trees framing the entire area, giving the whole place a bit of a fairy-tale feeling.

  “Marcus, we have to pick a date. We have to find out if this place is available for us.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that, honey-bun. It’ll be available whenever you want it.”

  Velma gave you this knowing look and you gawked at her.

  “You own this place?”

  “For a long time now. I only use it for very special occasions, and I don’t go blabbering about it to every Joe and Willy looking for a party-house. But for you, my turtle-doves, it’ll always be available.”

  By the time you went to bed that day, you’d not only picked a date, but completed and sent all of the invitations as well.   You were going to get married on the ten-month anniversary of when you first opened your eyes and saw him by your bedside, which gave you roughly a month to get everything ready. And since you had everything pretty much figured out already, that wasn’t going to be a hard deadline to keep.

  Or, so you thought.

  But the day before the wedding came at you like you’d somehow fallen asleep at the wheel going 200mph down the highway.   Suddenly it was all happening. And while you were totally ready emotionally, you were also just not ready over-all, and you woke up that morning feeling sick. Actually sick.   Marcus was too excited to get more than 4h of sleep per night in the week leading up to that day, but he didn’t want to disturb you, so he’d gotten up and left the bedroom some time earlier that morning.   You walked into the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face but it didn’t do much to alleviate the nausea, so you gave up and just got dressed instead.

  “Hey, alma, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sweetie, just feeling a little overwhelmed I guess.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. The wedding is happening, come hell or high water.”

  “Good.”

  “Where’s Marcus?”

  “He got called in to work really early, some crisis with a blue-whale, I think.”

  “Okay, well, then I’ll drive you to school.”

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t just take a sick-day?”

  “I’m not gonna be helped by sitting here wringing my hands all day. Let’s go, Maid of Honour.”

  She smiled at that, but then frowned.

  “You’re not gonna have breakfast?”

  “Kid, I’ll be happy if I can keep the damned pill down this morning.”

  You dropped her off and went to work, intending to treat this like any other Friday. But when you stepped into your office, there was a weird smell that just set off all your senses, and you had to duck over the first available trashcan and vomit. Since your stomach was empty, all that came up was bile, and that somehow made you even more nauseas.

  What the fuck was that smell?

  You abandoned your office and headed for Marcus’ instead. It smelled fine, so you sat down at his computer and used your own login to access your files and get to work.   But after about an hour you’d had to visit his bathroom three times as your stomach continued to try and cough up shit that wasn’t even there, and you gave up, and headed down to medical.

  You had just intended to ask for some anti-nausea medication, but because of your medical history, they insisted on an exam to rule out any possible delayed complications.

  You left medical in a daze, not even realising where you were going before you found yourself back in Marcus’ office.   You sat down in one of the sofas and just waited. You didn’t dare to even try and feel anything without him there, because you were afraid that you might suddenly feel way too much, and you needed him to be there, to keep you calm if that happened.   Some time later, Crushing ducked his head in and had to almost shout to get your attention.

  “Huh… What?”

  “I said, Marcus went home straight from the mission, two hours ago, he had something he wanted to get done for tomorrow. So, there’s no need to wait for him here.”

  “Oh. What time is it?”

  “Almost five.”

  “Shit…”

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “I hope so. Yes. I mean, yes.”

  “Want me to take you home?”

  “No, I’ll be fine, thanks Crush.”

  You drove home being almost ridiculously cautious and you laughed a little at yourself when you parked the car, next to Marcus’.   You were surprised to find the front door locked. You never locked the door when you were home. They must have gone out on foot for some reason.   Fishing your keys out of your bag, you unlocked it and stepped inside, and you were just about to call out to see if anyone was home, when you heard a sound that made every hair on your body stand straight up.   It was a mechanical sound, a machine of some sort. You couldn’t identify it, but your body sure as hell remembered it.   Walking into the living room, a fear unlike anything you’d ever felt before, flooded every cell inside of you.   Your own blood rushing in your ears drowned out the sound of your keys and handbag falling to the floor, as you tried to take in what you were seeing.

  Tubes… wires… computers… machines… bags of liquids… chairs that weren’t chairs but fucking instruments of torture. Two of them. One for Marcus… and one for Missy.   And right in between them – Dr. Prince.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​ @farfromjustordinary @allmyspideys @hrk-fic-recs @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[springday-aus]

SVT’s Jeonghan: Love, War and Everything Between || part one

—

Fic Piece Written by: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus​

Moodboard Link: Created by Admin Grandpa

Character Pairing: Y/N [fem. reader] and Seventeen’s Yoon Jeonghan

Other Characters: Nu’est’s Baekho [known as Dongho], Seventeen [Seungcheol and Jisoo, along with idiot squad!Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan], and more to be added along the way!

Genre: historical, romance, drama, royal!au, arranged marriage!au + gender role reversal 

None of this is even remotely historically accurate. This is all purely fiction!

Type: series 

prologue || part 01 || part 02 || part 03 → to be available! check the progress on our upcoming page! 

Word Count: approx. 2.6k 

Plot Summary: Korea’s most distinguished military general arrives home, carrying back glory and honor from the war. However, the general has been revealed to be a woman! Due to the prominent military accomplishments you have made as the highest ranking general, by orders of the Empress, you are arranged to be married to the second-eldest prince, Yoon Jeonghan. Only one problem lies between you two: your reputation as a ruthless killing machine, which scares the living daylights out of your new husband. 

→ Inspired by: the Chinese drama, Oh My General (also known as The General Above I Am Below)

Warnings: graphic violence, glorified war, murder, sexual harassment, sex discrimination (mainly against women), poly-relationships (i.e. concubines), political corruption, and homosexual tendencies

It had taken six months for the final battle to commence, and three full years of ruthless war, before they finally conceded. Needless to say, the new recruits were lucky to be under your jurisdiction. Had they not, the body count would have been much higher. 

Your grip tightens on the rein of your horse, feeling the guilt and anguish wash over you once more of those who have fallen. While it is inevitable to lose soldiers in war, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. 

You take a small breath in, calming yourself once more and settling back into the reality. 

The war had begun in the fall, whereas now, it is well into the summer season. You close your eyes, feeling the sun shine warmly on your skin. Taking another breath in, you open your eyes once more to take in the sights. 

White butterflies dance over the grass, teasing flowers as they move along. The flowers are in full bloom; even the dirt path, which was once wet and muddy, has patches of grass that pop out from the cracks. While you have traveled to many areas, you were never able to take in the sights—well, at least, the less violent ones. 

Ah, war. Politicians may declare war as much as they please, but they have yet to have seen how it destroys the average person—even a general as distinguished as yourself. 

“General?” 

“Yes,” you say. “What’s wrong, Dongho?” 

You don’t look back at him, but you can hear his horse’s footsteps catch up to yours—slowing down to remain a couple of paces behind. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks. 

You smile to yourself. “Rather sentimental.” You turn to him. “When was the last time we ever allowed ourselves to take in nature like this?” 

His smile reflects yours. “I believe it was the last time we had been called to fulfill our duty.” 

You click your tongue, with a disapproved shake of your head. “We need to go on these outings more often.” 

“Well,” Dongho starts. “It’s hard to go on leisurely walks as one of the nation’s most notable figures.” 

“And this is why you’re my second-in-command.” You let out another sigh, a bit longer than the previous one. “It’s hard to roam around with such a large target on your back.” 

“In hindsight, you are very skilled in many areas. Whether it’s swordsmanship, archery, or taekkyon, only a suicidal fool would challenge you.” 

“A suicidal fool, such as yourself?” 

“Yes, General,” he says with a chuckle. “I’m a suicidal fool, who has yet to have learned his lesson.” 

Dongho has been by your side for as long as you can remember. The two of you lived as neighbors, and evidently best friends, for ten years. When your father and brothers died, there was a brief separation period until you turned fourteen—in which you had met again, when you were starting your military training on request of your grandfather. 

Since then, you two trained together, side-by-side in combat for the next twelve years. You rose the ranks together—you as the General and he as the military counselor. 

You hear a groan from your left side. “Are we there yet?” 

“Kim Jisoo,” you call. “You should know by now how long these journeys are.” 

Your bodyguard playfully scowls at you. “Pardon me for being used to having company on these trips.” 

From beside her, Namjoo, your other bodyguard, directs a punch to her sister’s arm. “You speak as if I’m dead.” She makes eye contact with you, before rolling her eyes at her sisters antics. “Father would be upset had he heard your inauspicious words.” 

Lieutenant Kim worked alongside your father and you’re lucky enough to have him by yours as well. He’s like another family member—practically a close uncle, who is more than aware of your peculiar situation. Along with Lieutenant Kim came his two daughters, Jisoo and Namjoo.

Because he spent all of his time in the military, so did they. They learned as he taught and trained the other soldiers, including yourself and Dongho. Then, when the time came, you gave the both of them the bodyguard positions.

Of course there was protest, especially from their male counterparts who wanted their positions. While the Kims had a good laugh, there were also rumors that spread on your part—you had become known as a playboy, who became desperate for female attention while serving in the military.

Eventually, those rumors had been shut down, considering how your military contributions outweighed the gossip that spread due to envious soldiers. Your status easily overpowered theirs (lack thereof) and you dealt with them... accordingly. 

(No one died, but it didn’t mean you didn’t cause some emotional trauma for them. You were nicknamed the Devil for a reason).

But, alas, this is also the root of your predicament. 

“You aren’t the company I was referring to,” Jisoo says. 

“If you’re referring to those pretty boys back at the capitol,” Namjoo says. “You might as well be the dead one.” 

You chuckle at their banter. Jisoo is right (although you would never tell her): it would be nice to have a pretty boy by your side. But, with the current conditions, you know it would only be difficult for him. 

Granted, this would be made a burdensome situation for you as well—the only difference being that you’re made of the tougher materials in life and will not hesitate to kill a man when crossed against. 

Their banter fades into the background, with Dongho attempting to separate the two before the duo of sisters suddenly becomes solo. 

You look up at the bright and clear sky once more, enjoying the moment of peace before the storm strikes. 

It’s been about three days before you determined a stopping point, in order to set up camp for the evening. Your soldiers have been on rotation since then; you figure that they should get a well-needed break. 

You smirk to yourself. The joke’s on them, considering how the lower ranks are the ones who actually set up: the tents, the cots, the fires. 

The sun has already set for the day; the moon shines brightly and the stars twinkle against the evening sky. It’s truly the countryside; in the city, you don’t get sights like these. Too much pollution and such. It only means you and your soldiers still have a long road back to the capitol. 

A long sigh escapes you as you stand outside your tent—naturally, with Namjoo on one side and Jisoo on the other. 

“What’s wrong, General?” Namjoo asks. 

Jisoo turns to you. “Is something bothering you?” 

You let out another sigh. “It’s less of a bother and more of a concern.” 

“What kinds of concerns?” Jisoo asks. “Could we be of any help to you?” 

“Considering we are your protectors,” Namjoo adds with a pointed look. 

“And your best friends,” Jisoo says. 

“Female best friends.” 

You crack a small smile—one that rarely showed during this period. “When do you think…” Your words trail off, trying to find the correct words. “When do you think this charade should be over and done with?” 

Namjoo blinks wordlessly, not seeming to understand your question. 

“What do you mean, General?” Jisoo asks. “Are you referring to…? Possibly…?” 

“When can I fully become (Y/N) rather than just a general?”

“You’re not just a general,” Namjoo says. “You have risen up to become the General. The one who serves and protects your kingdom best.” 

“It’s not that I’m dissatisfied with my accomplishments. I’m proud of them, but I would prefer them to be my own rather than the son of the (Y/L/N) family.” You laugh inwardly at your own words. 

Son. What a joke. 

You did what you’ve had to, but, what was the real cost? The countless men you have killed? The women and children who were left with no one to care for them in this patriarchal society? 

What about your own life? What would life had been like, had your father and brothers not been killed? Would you have been married off to a family as well? Or would you still be in the military, serving with the other soldiers like now? 

There’s a moment of silence and the two struggle to find their words—whereas you’re left again to your own thoughts. 

It’s Jisoo who speaks first. “I want to tell you it would all be okay and things would remain the same.”

“But?” 

“But it won’t.” She tilts her head up, the stars shimmering in her eyes. “Things will be hard and things will be difficult. And, whenever you make that decision, we’ll be right here by your side.” 

Namjoo elbows you with a mischievous smile. “Just as we have always done. We pride yourselves as your protector.” 

Your smile grows. “That’s a relief to hear.” You turn away from them, taking a step back to push back the fabric of your tent to take a step in. “It’s too late to back out anyways.” 

“Too late for what, General?” Jisoo asks. 

Your head turns to her and your smile doesn’t waver. “The letter has already been sent.”

“Your majesty,” the Vice Premier says. “What do you advise us to do now?” 

The King sits at this throne, setting down the newly passed message from General (Y/L/N)—only to come in view with the court. 

While he may not be downright angry, he is well aware of how the court may feel. He is also unsure of what will result in his best military general, especially since the war is not exactly over and done with—considering how King Wu may still hold resentments due to the aftermath. 

He glances at the letter once again, feeling his head throb. Why did you have to choose now of all times? 

Just moments ago, the second messenger from your troops arrived—announcing his arrival and reading the letter aloud for the rest of the court to hear. Upon the King’s request, he had left the letter to the King, still in shock with the present state of affairs. 

General (Y/L/N) is a woman. 

“Your majesty,” Official Chun says, stepping out from his spot. 

“Accepted, proceed.” 

“It is unacceptable for a woman to be of such a high position, nevertheless a man’s rightful position. I propose we remove and replace the General.” 

Official Lee steps out. “Your majesty.” 

“Accepted, proceed.” 

“If I may remind some of us here that we are forever indebted to the General. We continue to be so, considering the current circumstances. While he—” He pauses, before correcting himself. “While she may be a woman, she is of the (Y/L/N) family. Not only have they been loyal to the throne, serving our country for many years, they have made many great sacrifices.” 

“Your majesty,” Official Kwon says. 

“Accepted, proceed.” 

“Official Lee is correct. We cannot just remove the General.” He pauses, not before glancing at Official Chun and his followers. “The war might be over but we still have to be alert. Allowing her removal is the equivalent of death for our country.” 

Sensing Chun’s anger from the indirect remarks, Official Mae steps out. “Your majesty.” 

“Accepted, proceed.” 

“General (Y/L/N) is a woman. A woman with too much power shall be the root our demise.” He glances at the other side, spotting those behind the Vice Premier. “She must be put into her place before she gets too ambitious.” 

Official Song steps out. “Your majesty.” 

“Accepted, proceed.” 

“From what we are aware, the (Y/L/N) family does not have any male heirs. Considering the circumstances, we cannot afford to replace her when there are still repercussions of the war to be settled.” 

“Your majesty,” Official Chun starts to say. 

However, the King puts his hand up, pausing the conversation from continuing any further. He has already made his decision: you were to keep your position. Your accomplishments have stacked up, leaving the entire country indebted to you and your trained troops. Your reputation in the military is the most impressive—no one can be compared to you. 

Although, it might be too unsettling for the officials for you to remain in your position. There must be some punishment—some kind of way to appease the court while you can still maintain your position, but not harsh enough for you to refute. 

“General (Y/L/N) is to keep her position,” the King announces. He continues, shutting down any more possible verbal opposition. “Our country is indebted to the General. She has obtained previous territories that have been lost in previous battles and she has won countless wars, including the one we have just won. Replacing her would only lead to our doom and, even then, we have no suitable replacement.” 

Official Jeong steps out. “Your majesty.” 

“Accepted, proceed.”

“I believe that’s a wise decision, as expected from our King.” He swallows apprehensively. “However, we cannot leave her be. After all, she has deceived us—including you. What shall we do with her then?” 

The officials murmur and whispers are passed around. Removal is too drastic for the King, therefore an execution is already off the table. No one seems to have any ideas of a possible punishment. 

That is, anyone from the court. 

While the officials scramble for an idea, the Empress’ eunuch, Eunuch Hak, shuffles himself from her side to the King’s throne. 

There’s a hush that falls over the court officials. 

“The Empress requests an audience,” Eunuch Hak whispers to the King. 

“Accepted.” 

From behind her golden curtain, the Empress lifts herself from her spot and gracefully walks towards the court. Her head is held high with elegance and her footsteps are light—almost as if she’s gliding. The officials bow their heads as she walks between them, no one daring to look up at her. 

She stops in front of the throne, smiling as she looks up at the King. 

“Mother,” he says. “How do you suppose we deal with this predicament?”

“I am proposing a marriage.” 

The whispers start up again, unsure of what the Empress is trying to plan. 

“Your highness,” Official Kwon says. “To whom do you think the General shall be married to?” 

Her smile grows. “I believe that the second nephew is the most suitable candidate.” 

“Second nephew?” 

“She doesn’t mean—”

“The second prince?” 

The King straightens in his seat, intrigued with the idea. “You are proposing a marriage between the most distinguished figure in Korea and Yoon Jeonghan?” He takes a small breath in, leaning back with a cocked eyebrow as he contemplates the idea. 

Official Jeong speaks up once more. “Your highness, can you elaborate more as to how this is a suitable punishment?” 

“If you ask me, it’s explanatory,” Official Chun mumbles under his breath. 

Official Mae smirks at the comment, whispering back. “Prince Yoon is nothing more than a joke to the royal family.” 

The Empress lets out a small sigh, proceeding to pretend as if she didn’t hear the rude comments about her grandson. 

“It’s not about punishment.” she says. “It’s about balance.” Seeing the apprehensive look from the King, she continues. “Jeonghan is rather unorthodox. He spends much of his time dancing at the brothels and admiring artwork rather than martial arts or sports.” 

There’s a murmur of agreement amongst the officials. 

The Empress takes it as a sign to continue. “While he is a healthy man with three lovers, he is still uncommitted and unmarried. If the two were to be married, it can help solve the problems that are occurring for both parties.” 

The King nods silently, but awaits for the court. 

“Your majesty,” Official Kwon says.

“Accepted, proceed.” 

“Her highness makes a good argument. I agree.” He thinks for a moment. “Not only would the General be married off to produce a male heir, but the rumors of Prince Yoon could also settle down once he’s married.” 

“Your majesty,” Official Lee says. 

“Accepted, proceed.” 

“I agree with her highness and Official Kwon. This is more advantageous on our part,” he says. “I mean no offense when I say this, but Prince Yoon’s reputation is rather…” He pauses. “Unfavorable, at the moment. The General can help with that change and his with hers when the news spread in the villages.” 

“Your majesty,” the Vice Premier says. “Shall we proceed with the marriage then?” 

“Yes, we shall,” the King says with a nod. “From this day, we shall begin the wedding preparations. Once the General arrives back to the capital, Prince Yoon Jeonghan will become her husband.” 

The Empress moves herself to the sidelines as the King stands up, causing the officials to stop in their spots and lower their heads once more. He steps down from his throne, starting his descent down the stairs and onto the path laid out for him. 

The Vice Premier follows him from the right and his majesty’s eunuch, Eunuch Boo, follows him from the left—their conversation continuing in hushed tones. 

The Empress leaves shortly after the King’s departure with Eunuch Hak on one side and Court Lady Nam on the other, leaving the officials with themselves. 

“Court Lady Nam,” she says. “You shall inform Princess Consort Yoon.” 

“Yes, your highness.” 

She turns to her right. “Eunuch Hak.” 

“Yes, your highness?” 

“Begin the wedding preparations.” 

A/N: As always, thanks for reading! Please don’t ask for updates. If you would like status updates, check out the upcoming post we have with upcoming works that will be posted! 

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