#short chapter this time

[nalu-gifs]

NaLu Fanfic | A Debt Paid for a Date Made | Chapter 10 | Believe

Chapter 10/12, ~1500 words, click here for AO3

Summary: Lucy is freed at last.

[geodax]

Luminous Beings, Part 3

(Part 1, 2)

Warnings- violence

The blast rips the air from his lungs and knocks him off his feet before he even registers that it should have been set off. He hadn’t seen Grievous, hadn’t heard the clacking of his fingers and claws. None of his brothers had called out a final warning before setting off the trap they could only pray would kill the general. No final moment for Cody to contemplate the very real possibility of death, unlike the last time when a live grenade had rolled into his foot, the activation light blinking teasingly up at him, asking what he thought he could possibly do about it before it went off.

It’s better without the warning, he decides.

“General?” Cody says as he tries to get his shaking limbs to cooperate. Even with his armor to protect him from the shockwave, his body still feels like it’s been tossed into Kamino’s oceans on a stormy day and crushed under the massive waves.

He wipes the dust from his faceplate and finally catches sight of his general in the haze. Blood trickles out of the Kenobi’s ear and down his neck to his already destroyed tunics as he gets to his feet. He’s in no condition to fight and hasn’t been since Cody had nearly killed him, but beyond a busted eardrum, he doesn’t look any worse than before. If there’s anything left of Grievous, Kenobi won’t have any problem finishing him off. At this point, Cody could probably do so with a few well-placed blaster shots.

Kenobi is yanking him to his feet before Cody has the sense to unlock the seals on his helmet that had automatically engaged when they detected the blast to protect his ears. He fumbles for the locks, but his fingers refuse to cooperate. His legs don’t seem inclined to do much either, still too shaken from the explosion to straighten fully.

“We need to go!” Cody hears Kenobi yell when the seals finally open. Cody winces at the volume, but his body responds to it while his brain is still struggling to process. A yelled order means danger is close, even if he can’t see it. He unholsters his blaster and looks to Kenobi.  

The Jedi has fallen still, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance obscured by haze. His lightsaber ignites. No time to run, then. Cody raises his blaster along Kenobi’s eyeline and waits.

Grievous comes flying out of the haze with a chilling roar. Cody’s blaster bolts hit the cyborg’s armor, but don’t slow him. The general bodily slams into Kenobi, sending both Jedi and lightsaber flying. The blue light flickers out.

Kenobi draws the other working saber from his belt but Grievous is faster. The cyborg’s fingers wrap around his wrist and crush the bones. Kenobi screams. And Grievous delicately plucks the lightsaber from his limp fingers.

Cody throws himself on top of them and fires his blaster directly into Grievous’s back. The cyborg shrieks and rips Cody off of him with a single hand, all without moving from where he has Kenobi pinned.

Cody gets back up, but something holds him back, an invisible force against his chest. Kenobi is looking up at him, his eyes glinting silver and a hand outstretched.

“Go,” he says as Grievous’s hands wrap around his neck.

Cody pushes against the wall, but Kenobi doesn’t let go, even as his face reddens, then purples and his body struggles weakly against the metal claws on him.

He could open fire. He could attack, do what he was made to. But he can’t beat Grievous, not even with Kenobi’s help. Right now, Grievous doesn’t care about him, only Kenobi.

The tip of his boot nudges Kenobi’s lightsaber.  

Kenobi’s eyes dim, but he’s still looking at Cody, still asking him to flee while Grievous is distracted so that they both can survive this day.

Cody grabs the lightsaber and runs.

“Open fire!” he yells to the ARC troopers over the comm. They won’t have a clear shot, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever armor Grievous is made of is stronger than any they’ve encountered before. He doubts they’d be able to kill them even with a direct hit. Only a distraction would do them any good now.

The lightsaber in his hand grows heavy, almost too heavy to carry, as rockets impact the ground behind him. His body shudders with each shockwave, but he keeps moving forward. Grievous roars behind him, no doubt realizing that the other lightsabers on Kenobi’s belt don’t have crystals in them.

“Commander!” Bones yells. “This way!”  

Cody raises his head to find Bones in a crowded gunship, his hand outstretched. The gunship was supposed to be a last resort. They shouldn’t have needed to use it, let alone evacuate. This was their shot, their one chance to finish Grievous off before he truly began his rampage.

And they’d underestimated him.

Cody had underestimated him and had gotten his general killed. It was ridiculous to think they could finish off a monster that had killed dozens of Jedi, including those more powerful than Kenobi. He’s just a clone. And Kenobi is just one man.

Bones wraps his hand around Cody’s arm and pulls him into the gunship. More hands join Bones’s, pulling him deeper into the ship, away from the battlefield and Grievous and the dust still hanging in the air. It’s gotten into his helmet somehow. He can taste the dirt on his tongue, can feel it settling on his face. It mingles with the sweat dripping from his brow and the tears he hadn’t realized had fallen. Kenobi isn’t dead. Not really. But he had still died. He’d spent his last agonizing moments keeping Cody safe instead of fighting back.

“Where’s the general?” someone says.

The lightsaber is impossibly heavy in his hand, practically struggling against his hold. “He’s safe,” Cody says, both to his brothers and the Jedi, if he can hear. He can’t give his brothers any further explanation. Even if he were confident in the security of their comms, he doesn’t have the words for it. He isn’t sure how to make them believe. He still isn’t sure he believes it himself.

Cody’s comm beeps with an update from General Ti. The battle is going well. The city’s militia had joined the clones and helped to destroy the droids. It won’t be much longer before they drive the Separatists back. They aren’t needed there.

“Take us back to the ship,” Cody says. Ti may not need them need them, but she does need to know that Grievous is still out there and very capable of killing anyone who crosses his path. He is not looking forward to telling her.

------

Cody sits on his bunk still fully armored. The fleet admirals hadn’t needed him on the bridge to finish sweeping the rest of the Separatist ships away. The ground assault was handled, now that all their neatly laid plans had finally fallen into place. The Separatists are in retreat.

Cody would have been directing the clean-up, but the medics had pulled him off active duty until he got a full night’s rest. Had he actually been needed, Cody would have protested. But he isn’t needed. He’d already made the decision not the pursue the Separatists. They didn’t have the firepower for it. The men were left with their standard operating procedures and regulations on the aftermath of battles. And Cody was left with nothing but an empty room and a cold bunk he can’t get himself to lie down in. His heart is still beating fast. His fingers itch for a blaster. The battle is over, but he can’t bring himself to cool down.

Not until his general returns.

Kenobi’s lightsaber sits on Cody’s desk, appearing as lifeless and still as the room around it. Supposedly, Kenobi is inside it, reforming or communing with the Force or something along those lines. Ti hadn’t been available for him to ask about it, not after he told her Grievous had escaped. Her composure had cracked and likely would have splintered before Cody’s eyes had she not immediately disconnected and forwarded the call to Captain Evan. He hasn’t heard from her since. Evan would have called if they needed backup, so Cody assumes they’re pushing onwards with Evan in full command to give Ti time to recover. Like Cody, she wouldn’t be needed either.

He had wanted to ask her what to do with Kenobi’s saber. It doesn’t seem right to hang onto it. Using another brother’s weapon or armor was taboo, at least until they died. Jedi seem like they would be much the same.  

He could call Ti, but he doubts she would answer his comm. Besides, it’s not an urgent matter. Kenobi said it could take weeks to reform.

Which left the 212th without their general.

Cody forces himself to move before his muscles grow too stiff. He can already feel the sweat in his bodysuit drying and sticking to his skin. Chills will soon follow.

That’s enough to get him moving. He pulls off his helmet, then unlatches the rest of his amor. Cool air wafts over his skin. He leaves his armor behind in favor of going directly to the showers, though regulations demand he care for his armor first, but the thought of sitting in his cold quarters scrubbing the dust and dirt from the plastoid plates does not appeal to him.

After a quick trip through the sonics and changing into a fresh pair of blacks, his heart has finally stopped racing and his hands no longer itch for his blasters. His bed looks much more inviting despite the pile of armor to clean in front of it.

Cody retrieves his cleaning kit from under his bunk and settles into the familiar rhythm of scrubbing. He’s done it a thousand times before, usually surrounded by brothers that were doing the same, but his rank provided him with his own quarters when shipboard. It’s not the privilege nat-borns think it is. Clones aren’t built for isolation.

Cody forces his eyes back open. He hadn’t even realized how tired he was, let alone how quickly the rhythm of scrubbing was sending him to sleep. There had always been something comforting about cleaning the marks from his armor. With cleaning came a sense of relief that the battle was actually over. No more diving out of the way of blaster fire. No more chasing after Jedi that were intent on shouldering more than their share of risk.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. A lot of things seem like a good idea until after they’re over. Cody had let himself be swept up in the myth, in the legends of what Jedi could do. But even they have their limits. And Cody had pushed too far.

He stores his armor under his bunk, then allows himself to collapse onto his mattress. He pulls the blankets over him and closes his eyes.

The sleep that had come so easily a moment ago eludes him.

Cody scowls. Kenobi’s saber still sits on his desk, staring at him. It shouldn’t be. It’s a lightsaber, it doesn’t have any eyes, but that doesn’t stop the hairs on the back of his neck from standing up.

He rolls onto his other side and pretends it’s one of his brothers. Kenobi isn’t fully conscious. Probably. Cody can’t imagine he’d be fully aware if he didn’t have a body to work with. He’s still there though, in Cody’s quarters. Still watching.

He’s in the middle of rolling to his other side when he stills. Ti isn’t the only one who could help.

He reaches for his comm.

[greenshi]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter Four: The People’s Hero

[archangelgabriellives]

Rich Appreciation Day 4

Words: 730

Fandom: Driven

Pairings: Roger & Reader (still nothing on the kissing front, and Roger thanks me for that)

Warnings: Mentions of a bit of blood, sewing up a wound

A/N: I probably could have gone a little deeper with the prompt but I still like it

~~

<- Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Hurt/Comfort

Y/N felt the fog of unconsciousness lifting, and fought it hard. The softness under her back was the only small comfort she felt through the pain emanating from her shoulder. It came in and out in waves, a weight pressing down on her whole arm as pins and needles prickled through her skin. 

She tried to roll to the side, to avoid the heaviness on her and drift back off to nothingness for a little while longer, but the weight only came back stronger, holding Y/N flat on her back and unable to move away. The waves of tingling in her shoulder rolled in and out faster, felt a little frantic and a lot more painful.

“Just hold still.” 

A voice growled close to Y/N’s ear, hissed through teeth and on the wrong side of frustrated. Memories of the rain soaked ally and the demon on top of her flooded back in an instant, and Y/N’s adrenaline spiked. Before she could even open her eyes, Y/N was fighting. Her free hand flew on its own, the smack of skin against skin echoing around her as Y/N connected a slap to the face hunched too close to hers.

“Aaaahhoww!!” 

All too quick she realized her mistake.

“Jesus!” Y/N yelled as she sat up like a shot, “Roger?!”

“The hell!?” Roger moaned, a hand covering his face, “I had a needle between my teeth!” 

“Oh shit!” A glance down and Y/N caught sight of her half sewn stab wound, the thread hanging down to stick to the little bit of blood still left on her exposed arm. “God, I’m sorry! Are you ok?”

Roger groaned, checking his hand for his own blood. “Man, you sure can aim when you're unconscious,” he sniffed. “Got me right in the nose.”

“Sorry,” Y/N winced, clutching her arm. “But what the hell are you doing?”

“I was trying to finish stitching you up before you came to.” Roger let out a small laugh. “Guess I had the wrong idea.”

“No. No, it’s fine.” With a reassuring pat on his arm, Y/N settled back on the bed she found herself on. She found some comfort in Roger’s raised eyebrow, silently asking for permission to finish his work on her wound. Y/N nodded, and her heartbeat soared as Roger grabbed her other hand, the same one that slapped him, and brought it up to his shoulder.

“Here,” he said quietly. “Give it a grip if it hurts too much.”

Y/N nodded again, a little more flustered this time, and Roger nodded once more before he gathered his tools and returned to sewing up her wound, a little more delicately this time. Although delicacy can really do nothing to dull the pain of a rather large needle piercing the skin. 

Y/N hissed at the ache, fingers clutching at the soft maroon fabric of Roger’s shirt as he made another pass. 

“Talk to me, Goose,” Roger teased, hiding his own wince from Y/N’s grip. “Distraction is the way to get through it. Just like getting a tattoo.”

“D-Do you have one of those?” Y/N muttered as Roger worked.

“Hell no,” he laughed. “Hate those needles.”

Y/N flinched again, her own chuckle strained. “Where -ow!- where are we?”

“My hotel room.”

“How the hell did you get me here?”

“Ummm…” Roger paused, nervousness halting his movements for a beat. “I guess...well, I don't have a car… so I kinda had to carry you.” 

The room fell quiet for a moment, Y/N sighing as Roger finished his last stitch. She hissed harshly as he swiped an alcohol pad over his work and set his tools aside to clean later. 

“You ok?” he asked, concerned. “About everything, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” Y/N answered. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Roger smiled and patted her leg. “Good.” He grabbed a folded blanket from the end of the bed and draped it over Y/N’s shoulders, letting her get comfortable. “Well, it’s just late enough to order a pizza. We should get some food in you before you go into shock, or something.”

Y/N pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, careful of the tenderness around her stitches, watching fondly as Roger searched through the hotel room’s take out menu selection.

@nongaberichbang

[celestialgunfireopera]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[rawcatlawnchair]

Chapter 6 - Jirei

Jirei was loving her return to her homeland. Here, things felt familiar, from the architecture to the food, the smells and the sounds. The buildings were not blocky, dull and functional like those in the Chalice, but rather followed the surroundings of nature. The pillars were the browns and blacks of oak trees, the shingles green as the leaves of the evergreens. The roofs had familiar arches and curled at the edges. The smell of a pork bun wafted across the street.

Shuxin was one of the four large cities of the region, alongside Shuyong to the east, Shujiang to the south, and the capital Shurei in the center of them all. The western part of the Elven Alliance lacked a major city, as its mountainous tundra climate did not lend itself well to large cities.

With it's proximity to the Chalice, as well as other major kingdoms, Shuxin had naturally become a trading city. Villagers foraged from the surrounding forests for rare mushrooms and spices, while farmers came from further away with grains and crops to sell in the big city.

Hence, it was only natural that it's main street was lined with trading houses and food stalls, freshly opened to serve the morning crowd. Jirei, acting as their tour guide, led them around the area. While she had never lived in this city, she had passed through the area during her initial trip to the Chalice.

“Is that a kind of food?” Trixi asked, pointing at a pushcart selling some kind of fried delicacy.

“Dough fritters and soybean milk. Why?”

Trixi pulled a face and said, “Why can't elves just get milk from cows like everyone else?” Despite his obvious confusion at the cuisine, he continued jotting down his own notes. “Ever the scholar,” said Ruzuli, continuing, “What are you going to do with all those notes?”

“When we get back to the Chalice I'll write a book about my adventures, of course. I could call it Sagure: From A Gnome’s Perspective.”

“That would be a real short book.” The jokes flew back and forth, as the team browsed the stalls. Even if they were on a mission, they had spent over a week in the wilderness and deserved some rest and relaxation. Trixi and Ruzuli both decided to try the dough fritters, while Octavia and Jirei picked up some minced pork balls on a stick.

As they ate, Octavia looked like she had something on her mind. When Jirei prodded her, she spoke. “This city feels strangely foreign to me.”

“What do you mean?”

Octavia yanked a pork ball off the stick and chewed it, swallowing with a gulp. “I’ve been to many places, but coming to Shuxin feels like I've travelled back in time. It's rustic, traditional-”

“You can just call it old, you know.”

Octavia nodded. “Old is exactly what it is.”

“This city's stayed mostly the same for three hundred years now,” Jirei spread her arms, gesturing to the city around them. “A big part of Elven culture is tradition, and building on the work of your ancestors. Every building, every street has centuries of history beneath it, with centuries more to come. To tear down this ancient city and rebuild would be an insult to the heroes who have come before us.” Her eyes had glazed over, staring blankly into the distance as she delivered her speech. She came to her senses eventually, and sputtered out an apology to Octavia for going on and on.

“I’m sorry for that, Elven culture isn't really interesting to most.”

Octavia shook her head, saying, “Quite the contrary.” She smiled and began to gaze around at the street surrounding her. “I’ve spent so many years inside that tower, so many hours spent gazing at white walls and pale ceilings, aching for a look at the outside world.” It was a well known fact that Archmonk Celice rarely let his acolytes leave the tower, under the guise of ‘security issues’.

She looked over at the dragonling and the gnome, happily chomping away at their newfound favourite food, then turned back to Jirei and spoke once more. “Something’s been on my mind, elf. Why did you save my life? You had escaped the city with the compass, and trying to save me would only slow you down. I thought you righteous types hated criminals.” Jirei shrugged. “We’re criminals like you too now, and even if we weren’t, I’d still have saved you. I don’t just serve the Chalice, I serve the god Rath too. He gave life to all the beings that reside in this world, and to squander his gift for something as petty as ‘righteousness’ would be an insult to him.”

“A pious one, aren’t you?”

Jirei humbly nodded. “Rath has given me this green essence, and with it I shall serve the greater good.”

Octavia attempted to speak, but stumbled on her words and shook her head, walking away. It seems they had a long way to go before they understood each other.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After filling their bellies, the next stop for the group was the local city hall. The modest red and green brick building contained the city’s humble adventurer’s guild. Here, no grandiose quests for lost jewels or bounties on assassins would be found. Instead, pinned to the guild board were requests for rare apples that could only be found deep within the Walled Forest, or an escort to a nearby lake at night for a scholar to research glowfish, or even seeking labour to help harvest crops from a neighbouring farm. As the four of them crowded around the map that the guild had installed in its lobby, Jirei once more marvelled at the sheer size of the Elven Alliance. Unarguably the largest kingdom on the entire continent, it had taken them nearly two weeks of travelling to reach just the border from the Chalice, and yet it looked like it would take another six to reach their destination, Shuyong, all the way in the far east.

“Not six, eight.” Trixi said, not looking up from his notebook.

Jirei peered down and immediately regretted it, staring at an incomprehensible jumble of numbers and jargon. “The map says we’ve travelled a hundred odd miles from the Chalice to reach Shuxin, and says we’ve got to travel another three hundred miles to reach the edges of Shuyong,” Trixi said, pointing at the map with a slender finger, sliding it to show the voyage that awaited them. “But the road isn’t a straight line, it curves and bends as it goes. Add on the extra food and supplies we’ll have to carry, and slowly but surely that trip gets longer and longer. Not to mention-”

Ruzuli interrupted, holding out a hand to stop the gnome from entering a trance. “We get it, the trip’s going to be long and arduous. You can keep the numbers to yourself.”

Trixi muttered something about his work being unappreciated and continued to scribble things while staring at the map. The other three got straight to the planning. The road they were taking was not entirely depopulated, but villages were few and far between, meaning they would have to rely on supplies they brought to survive the journey between them. The nearest villages were a whole week’s walk between them, with nothing but miles and miles of forest and farmland in between.

The rest of the day would be spent preparing for their long journey ahead. Supplies were bought, essentials such as potatoes and carrots, nutritious foodstuffs that would keep them full and satisfied on their trip. They purchased a map of the region to navigate, as well as ropes and a torch. A visit to the local blacksmith allowed Ruzuli to sharpen her blade, as well as their hunting knives.

When nightfall came, the team settled into a small tavern for a meal of noodles and roasted pork, before getting two rooms for themselves to stay the night. For the first time in many nights, all four of them would able to sleep at once, safe and sound back in civilisation. Lugging their satchels to the second floor, Ruzuli and Octavia decided to take one room, while Jirei and Trixi took the other. Before retiring for the night, the compass was used once more to certify that their path was true to the quest.

The rooms were small but cozy, with two single beds and a window to peer out of. Outside, the city was winding down and preparing to fall silent. Neither Jirei nor Trixi had opted to change into other clothing, ready to mount an escape in the event of a crisis. Instead, they sat on their beds, talking as the sky got darker and darker.

A strange thought crossed Jirei’s mind, about her mysterious dreams she had. Perhaps Trixi knew something about it. She cleared her throat and spoke loudly in a clear voice. “In all your readings, have you ever encountered, say, someone with inexplicable essence abilities?”

Trixi furrowed his brow, trying to think of a suitable answer. “Only in the legends and myths, nothing concrete, I’d say. Why?”

She internally decided Trixi was reliable and trustworthy. He could keep a secret. “I have these dreams, from time to time,” She said, standing up and walking to the window. “I see things that I could never have known, people from distant lands and times forgotten. And everything I see has this green tint to it.”

Trixi still looked doubtful, a finger on his chin. He walked in a wide circle about the beds, shifting on his feet to always face Jirei. “Sounds rather preposterous to me. Can you control it?”

Jirei gulped. She didn’t know how to explain something so second nature, that came as easy as breathing and left even easier. She tried anyway. “Well, I can’t really control when I see the visions, or what I see with them. They just always seem to come to me as and when they want to. Almost as if-”

“They are pure coincidence.” Trixi finished for her. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.” Jirei glared a dagger into the gnome, who stood on his bed just to see eye to eye with her.

“No, but it remains the truth.” He folded his arms, failing to give off any air of authority with his lack of height. “Magic cannot explain what we see in our dreams, true, but that doesn’t mean any strange dream could be attributed to magic.” Jirei frowned, unsure of how to rebut his argument. “Perhaps these dreams of mine are a gift from Rath himself.” That was the first thing that came to mind, and perhaps the best. Her faith was the one thing that would remain unwavered in the face of his arguments.

“Well when we reach the Godsplain you can ask Rath himself about that,” stopping to correct himself.  “If we reach the Godsplain, that is.”

“You still doubt it exists?”

Trixi sighed. “I hope it exists. But hopes and prayers are useless in the face of reality. I shall believe in it when I face it with my very own eyes.”

Outside, a stall owner extinguished his torch as he began to push his cart home, bell ringing as he went, tired after a long day of serving customers. “Perhaps we should retire for the night,” Jirei said.

“We do have a long day of traveling ahead of us. Goodnight, druid.”

“Goodnight, geomancer.”

They returned to their beds and settled in for a well deserved rest. Neither would realise when her eyes began to shine green from behind her eyelids.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The green dream did not hesitate in pulling Jirei directly into the action. It felt like mere seconds after she fell into her slumber that the familiar green rush sent her perspective into the dazzling Prismatic Hall. The masters had gathered once more, seated in their respective chairs. The dream seemed clearer than before, with a strange clarity that Jirei could not explain. Celice and Kris, as usual, seemed to be in a heated argument.

“You cannot accuse my acolytes of this crime! They left for the south on a boat, headed for Shuyong weeks ago!”

“On a boat no one saw them board, on the same night three people fitting the physical description of your acolytes used your invention to break out a criminal? Too many coincidences for me. I say we-”

“I say we stop this nonsense!” First Guardian Korixa roared, small wisps of fire floating from his mouth. The intimidating dragonling rose, pointing at both the squabbling masters. “My guards could not give me consistent descriptions of our criminals. Some said there were four, and others said there were forty. Some said they were shorter than the shortest gnomes, or taller than the tallest elves.” His uproar managed to silence the masters for a brief moment. He snorted more fire and continued.

“Either way, we still need an answer. What are we doing about the outlaws?”

Celice rose to match Korixa. Even at his old age, he presented the air of a refined man, albeit one with a menacing aura. “I’ve dispatched men to handle the criminals.”

“No more mistakes. Understood?”

“Yes, First Guardian.”

“Excellent. Now, on to our next task...”

Jirei’s dream began to twist and turn, and now showed her the gates of the Chalice. It looked eerily familiar, and it took her a brief moment to recall the day that she had leapt from those walls. In the green-tinged night, crescent moon hanging in the air, the gates creaked open, clearing the way for a convoy. Seven men rode out, two in white and bearing symbols on their cloaks, and five more in the brown of the city guard, horses kicking up dust as they rode towards the Walled Forest. She heard some shouting, and all of a sudden her dreams burst into mist as she came to her senses in the real world.

Trixi, the culprit behind the noise, finally quietened down. “Jirei, y-y-your-”

“My what?”

“Eyes!”

“Eyes?”

“Yes, your eyes! I awoke to find green light seeping through your eyelids. I was worried you were casting magic in your sleep.”

“I was merely dreaming, my friend.”

“Casting magic in your dreams?.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a bird chirping, indicating the coming of the morning. Through the walls, they heard a muffled yawn, likely courtesy of their dragonling companion.

Trixi’s voice fell to a whisper. “Maybe we should speak of this when we have eaten.” Jirei accepted his proposition and gathered the team, taking their bags downstairs for a traditional Elven breakfast of grilled fish and porridge. Over breakfast, they spoke of the days to come. Octavia seemed eager to see more of the kingdom, and Ruzuli was excited to finally begin their quest in earnest. Trixi spoke of some ruin they would be passing by in between mouthfuls of porridge.

Jirei ate in silence.

Next Chapter ｜Start from the beginning

[roselover411]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 8/13 Fandom: Kingdom Hearts, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series, Castlevania 白夜の協奏曲 | Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Aqua (Kingdom Hearts), Juste Belmont, briefly Maxim Kischine, mentions of Aqua's friends and Juste's family, as well as Belmont ancestry Additional Tags: Dual POV, aka Third Person Omniscient, Both Aqua's and Juste's perspectives in full, castlevania rises again, but with heartless this time, how can this be?, Juste is indignant, Aqua is salty, but they're teaming up to get shit done, beware the thousands of battle scenes, like seriously, so many fights, khwiki is an author's best friend for spell references, complete fic, updates weekly on Wednesday nights, you don't actually need knowledge of both games/worlds to read this, one is enough, eiahmon is the one who's fluent with both Summary:

Aqua receives a mission to investigate a new world that's appeared on the council's radar due to a Heartless invasion, and finds that everything is different here. Juste took Dracula down four years ago, and is now trying to protect his town from a new incursion of monsters they've never seen the like of before. Two unlikely heroes team up to push back the Heartless and track down the cause of this unusual threat in a world where the soul has all the power and hearts don't belong. (Collaborative fic with Eiahmon of fanfiction.net and dreamwidth)

[artyrambles]

Chapter 13: Shelter

Outside Himmelsdorf.

“I don’t think they’ll let us in” Awol said. “They’re probably just waiting until we go away on our own.” He hung his cannon, causing the Pershing to give him a concerned look. She was about to say something, but Noob beat her to it. “Nah, I think they will” he said with utter conviction. “You worry too much!”

What he failed to mention was that he himself wasn’t quite sure, but he didn’t want to bring the rest of the team down any more.

Night had fallen and it had gotten dark between the buildings, so they had migrated to a slightly more illuminated area just outside the city that was dominated by train tracks. They had made sure to stay in the shadows just enough to not be seen from far away. No need to attract unwanted passerbyes.

The mood was a rather gloomy one nevertheless. Arty had nodded off in the meantime, and what kept the rest of them awake was mostly hunger. Noob started pushing around a few small stones with his treads to fight the boredom while waiting, as no one said anything anymore. It was better than just sitting around and doing nothing.

After what felt like a couple of hours, an engine could be heard, and a heavy tank appeared in view. He drove down the street and followed the rails to where the tanking league had their provisory camp.

As soon as he reached them, Eject gave the four tanks a pensive look. “You’re allowed to stay for now. But try to keep a low profile, not everyone here is happy with that decision” he said and nodded towards the town. “I’ll show you where the garages are.”

Relief was an understatement for what they felt now. Except for the Sturmpanzer, who only woke up when the others already started moving. She quickly caught on to what must have happened though, and hummed to herself cheerfully as she followed her team to the base.