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#Fenn and his busy hands…
chirp-a-chirp · 2 years
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Fenn: Hehe, as you wish Guy!
Guy: Get your hands off me!
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pocket-vvardvark · 11 days
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Playing in West Weald makes me think of Fenn's quest 😭. I had to write some jealous Alethia 👉👈
Alethia was never jealous. Not even as a child. She never fought over her sister's toys, didn't bother vying for the affection of her parents over her sisters, and always sought to be fair. Jealousy never clawed it's way around her heart until now. There's a bitter taste on her tongue, like something she just cannot shake off. Her heart beats anxiously in her chest at the newfound feeling. There's no amount of prayer to Mara that can purify these thoughts. Alethia scoffs, biting the inside of her cheeks. Of course Ursilia made it to the party on Beragon's balcony. How thrilling. Instead of grinding her teeth to nubs, she smiles politely. 
"Glad to see you could make it." She draws up to them standing side by side, and it makes her skin crawl. 
"Alethia." Fennorian smiles warmly, "I heard all about your adventures here from the arcanist. Another amazing feat, my friend. You always make the Ravenwatch proud." She sinks her fingers into her palms. 'Friends'. 
"Thank you, Fennorian." Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. "That's kind of you to say. I see Ursilia received my invitation." She says innocently, "It's nice to see you again." Not.
Ursilia let's out a sigh, "Yes, I heard you played the role of hero for the region today. You've been busy. Oh, it's nice to see you too...not caked in the blood of my ex-husband and glaring daggers at me." She smirks, and Alethia blushes. Ursilia had made the connection far earlier than she'd expected to. "Oh, don't blush." Fennorian attempts to find Alethia's gaze, but she skittishly looks away. Her jealously morphs into dread. "I know you're jealous of our previous engagement. Honestly, I'm surprised you're fawning after a vampire. I've heard your surname used to carry weight in the isles, but perhaps an aprax wouldn't know." Stubbornly, Alethia refuses to be embarrassed at her own celebration. Like a pouting child, she turns on her heel to leave. 
"Alethia, wait!" Fennorian calls out to stop her. He gives Ursilia an admonishing look before rushing after her. Merryvine estate is too far, so Alethia makes a bee-line for the fertile respite. He manages to catch hint of her delicately braided red hair before she slips past the doors of the inn. The air is heavy, like any inn, and filled with the belches of drunkards. Fennorian has to push past half-aware men and mer to see Alethia rush to her room. He clambers up the creaky wooden stairs. Just as she's about to close her door, his hand stops it ajar.  Alethia gasps, her shoulders tensing upwards like a spring.
"Alethia." His brows pinch together as he catches his breath. "I know her words were sharp, but Ursilia isn't used to life outside of Summerset. Don't take her words to heart." 
Alethia frowns, her eyes already brimming with unshed tears. "You honestly think that's what upset me?" 
His brows turn up, an expression of confusion contorting to concern. Fennorian sighs, letting his hand slide down the doorframe. The metal bolts groan as his grip eases. He smiles sheepishly, "Sorry." 
The accident earns a little chuckle from her, "It's okay. Come in." The faded green door clicks once she shuts it behind him. The room is dark, save for a few candles lit nearby the bed. She sniffles, "I don't care about being called an aprax, Fenn. I'm...embarrassed about what she implied regarding our relationship." Her hands wring together anxiously. 
Fennorian smiles thoughtfully, "There's no need to be embarrassed, Alethia. She was teasing. I know the boundaries of our friendship." Gods, she wants to tear her hair out! How could he be so dense?
She supresses a grimace, "Do you? Are you sure you know what I want, Fenn?" She utters. His eyes catch hers in an electric glance. The air is thick as it settles in the stuffy room.
Her heart thumps in her chest as his boots creak upon the floorboards. "Then let me ask you this, Alethia. What do you want?" Her breath catches when he pinches her chin between his forefingers, gently tilting her face upwards. For a moment, she can only stare into his eyes in awe. Something raw and surly rushes through her veins as she changes their positions. He falls against the plush sheets of her bed as her body hovers above his.
She watches him with a narrowed gaze. "You're unfair, Fennorian. I can't stand this stupid game anymore. You must have an inkling of what I feel." Her lips ghost his throat, hot breath fanning against his cold skin. "You know what I want. Why do you torture me?" She whines, dragging her lips up his throat to his cheek. 
With a shuddering breath, he responds. "I had hope you shared my feelings, but I couldn't be sure, Alethia." His eyes shimmer in the dim candlelight, reflecting amber. Gingerly, as if one would touch a frightened animal, he strokes his knuckles across her fair cheek. "I regret holding these feelings in every turn I was too afraid to tell you. I love you, Alethia." 
She smiles warmly, cupping her hand onto his. "I love you too, Fennorian." She bends down, her eyes fluttering shut as she meets his lips in a slow kiss. She gasps as he catches her forearm, flipping her over easily with his enhanced strength. She whimpers pitifully as his fingers crawl up her blouse. His fangs catch the soft skin of her throat, brashly sucking until her back is arching. A growl rumbles through his chest, pooling heat in her shaking core. Frantically, her fingers grip the shoulder of his leathers while his stinging kisses follow lower until they're just above her pelvis. She pants softly beneath him, eyes half-cracked in pleasure. His fingers curl over her trousers, tugging downwards. The hot coil in her belly tightens with a lurch in excitement. That is, until her sleeping wolf pounces on Fennorian eagerly. Snowbouncer covers Fennorian's face in warm licks. The sweet sight causes laughter to bubble past her lips. 
"Ah...Snowbouncer. I'm afraid I don't have any treats for you, boy." Fennorian chuckles, patting the wolf's fur. Snowbouncer whines, pushing his snout against Fennorian's stomach in search for the missing treats. Alethia grins, "It's about time I fed him." Her eyes tear away from her wolf to Fennorian. "Care to stay the night?" 
His eyes crinkle, "I'd love to." 
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ithseem · 7 months
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Drawing Henna Tattoos On the Consorts' Hands (S-Ranks edition)
"Why are you writing this?" Because no one else will. And because it's fucking fun
Saligia is full of wack flora and fauna, and since you've finally found something resembling a henna plant that can actually leave a stain and doesn't make you hallucinate or some other odd shit, you decided to crush some of the leaves up and make a batch. There was an upcoming festival, so this is a good opportunity to put those skills to use
Guy
Oh boy...The amount of puppy-eyeing you need to do 💀
He does eventually cave though, only because it's you. His own curiosity definitely has no part in this, what are you talking about?
He's going into this knowing that henna stains may take a few hours to set properly before he could wipe the dried paste off.
Because of that, he'd get all his stuff done before sitting down with you. You'd better do the same too.
He'd moisturize his hands and forearms as per your advice and hold still long enough to see you work your artistic skills, and he's quite impressed (He may or may not voice this).
He can see that working with henna can be fiddly, seeing how focused you are.
The small smile on his face after you finished means your mission was successful.
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Lynt
You want to draw a tattoo with henna on his hand? Alright. It looks like it'd take a while to draw so he'd try and stay still if he'd fall asleep.
"Would you moisturize my hands for me? 🥺" is is excuse to feel your hands before you start your work.
He does fall asleep about half an hour in. He saw how focused you were, and the design already looked pretty good, so he trusts that he's in good hands (not that he has a reason to distrust you).
You did tell him ahead of time that the henna would take a few hours to properly set, so he'd try not to move his hand too much
Lynt's pretty sensitive, so once the henna feels properly dry, he'd wipe off the paste.
He seemed so pleased with the design that it seems a shame to use that hand too much. He'll ask Tino to do a bit more work until the stain wears off (Not that Tino minds)
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Roy
When you told Roy about drawing tattoos with crushed leaves, he knew he'd want to try it. Especially on festival days.
Though he is a busy man, he'd make some time for you to do his henna and wait for a few hours to let the stain set. Probably on a day off or something.
He can't help but watch you while you put your artistic prowess to work.
And the design? It is absolutely gorgeous.
"That look of intense focus is quite captivating, you know? And the design looks gorgeous" - Roy Invidia
Fast forward several hours and he's wiped off the dried henna.
He wears the stain like a medal of honour.
Soon enough, all the girls found out about it and drew some designs on their own to wear on special occasions
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Toa
He can't say he isn't curious about this custom, so he'll indulge you. And he wants to spend more time with you and watch your artistic skills in action.
Before his day off he made sure everything is done without any mistakes (he does that anyway, but he does this more meticulously than usual)
He washed and moisturized his hands before you got to work.
Drawing with a tube of paste can be fiddly, so he held still as possible (he was going to anyway, he just really doesn't want to break your concentration)
He has to admit, the design looks exquisite. You really put a lot of care and thought into it
The next day, you see him teaching his classes with the henna stained hand in plain sight.
He let his class in on this once his lecture finished.
Needless to say nigh everyone had a henna tattoo on ball days after that.
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Fenn
You want to draw a tattoo on him? Using crushed leaves? He would love that!
He doesn't mind sitting still for an hour to see you work on something so beautiful.
Hands and forearms? Clean. Skin? Hydrated and moisturized by you (he likes feeling your hands). Hotel? Trivago.
The design you're working on is beautiful yes, but it pales compared to you. Especially right this moment since you look so focused.
The urge to try and fluster you is too strong, so he does when you lift the tube for a few moments.
The stain set a few hours later, and my goodness was the final product gorgeous.
And let me tell you: nigh everyone drew a tattoo with henna. Especially before ball nights
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Rio
Rio would be more than happy to let you draw a design with henna on his hand, but he is a bit concerned about how he's going to eat his food. That henna(?) stuff doesn't seem too appetizing and he doesn't want to ruin your work. (Thoma volunteered to take over for his work for tending to the vegetable patch)
You opted for a simpler design on his forearm or on the back of his hand so it doesn't get too in the way of his food or work. Rio doesn't mind though. He knows what you'll create will be beautiful regardless
His hands and forearms are clean and moisturized and he's rarin to go (not without a few snacks to share with you, of course)
He can't say he's too well-versed in this art form, but you look like you know what your doing, and he likes the design.
The wait was definitely worth it, and he wears that stain like a badge of honour.
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atomsminecraft · 2 years
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MC using a spray bottle on the S-Ranks when they misbehave. I just wanna see Guy SOPPING WET
HOLY FUCK I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I LITERALLY HAVE NO CONCEPT OF TIME(I was also busy and being a lazy bi-)
Ok so like, they might not be 100% what you asked for but I’m the writer so I’ll write these the best I can haha-(Please don’t hate me)
I’m also not very good at their wording(or writing haha-) and how they act so please forgive me for any inaccuracy-
Warning: Not proof read(mostly)
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Fenn.
It was a surprisingly normal day today, I grabbed my bag(That's a surprise tool that will help us later-), went to class, talked with Sherry and Rio, and now it's almost lunch time.
"Treasureeee" Oh god not this again, of course it can't be a normal day. What was I thinking? I feel an arm go around my waist into a half hug.
"Afternoon, Fenn." I say.
"Treasure, what say you spend time with me during lunch? I promise I'll make it worth your while." I feel his hand lower and grab my ass.
"Fenn." I stare at him and get ready to grab the little surprise tool in my bag. I take out the spray bottle and give him a spray from it. Haha now his face and hair is wet.
Fenn pouts, "You're no fun," He lets go of me and puts his hands back and wipes his face. "Is that a no to the lunch offer?"
I cross my arms, "It's very much a no."
"Well, the offer still stands if you change your mind." He winks at me then leaves, for the time being at least.
Guy
(I don't have many ideas after this so please forgive me)
(some of you are gonna hate me for how long this is gonna be so I'm sorry)
I was talking to another student about something in class they had a problem with. Why did they ask me? I have no idea. From what they said, I understood it better than they did and the professor left before they could ask any questions after class. Oh yeah and they were also acting very nervous around me.
He listened to me intently, taking notes, even! I actually kinda liked this feeling, it felt like I was the teacher for once! I continued to answer any questions the dude had about the topic until he suddenly looked really nervous as I felt someone loom over me.
"I- I think I got it now, thank you!"
"Wait but I wasn't done-" Aaaaand the student ran away. I looked behind me to see Guy standing over me. "Did you need something?"
"Why were you talking to that student?"
"He was asking a question about a lecture me and him had."
Guy scowls, "He should have asked the professor or asked someone else."
"The professor had to leave so he couldn't ask any questions." I answered.
"He clearly asked for other reasons. You're mine, I won't let anyone else take you." His "You're mine" comments really aggravate me. Was this the only reason he wanted to talk to me?
"I don't belong to anyone," I glared. "Was that all?"
He huffed and grabbed my arm, not rough enough to hurt me though. "Come with me." He pulled me towards the direction of the dorms and I soon got tired of trying to get out of his grip. When we got to his room, he finally let go of me and sat down.
"Gotta really appreciate the consent in bringing me here". I said sarcastically. "What did you bring me here for anyways?" he huffs and doesn't say anything. I roll my eyes, I swear to god he really needs to learn to communicate with others. An idea suddenly pops in my head and I grab the spray bottle.
"Communicate." sprits "Your," sprits "Emotions." sprits
For a moment he looked shocked then glared at me and grabbed my spray bottle and sprayed me with it. Oh boy this was gonna be fun.
(Sorry I had to make this a little light hearted haha- please don't hate me)
Toa
Lectures were going on and at the moment Toa is my professor.
GOD DAMN IT WHY WON'T THIS WATER TURN INTO WINE, IF JESUS COULD DO IT SO CAN I
I continued to try and concentrate on turning the water into wine but I feel the judgment of someone staring at me and it temps me to look to the side of where the feeling is radiating off of and I see- HOLY FUCK IT'S TOA. I jump in my seat because he's literally standing next to me and I didn't even hear him or see him.
We continue staring at each other until I decide to break the silence. "Do you need something...?"
"How is it that you've done everything else correct but doing something as simple as turning water into wine?" He asks. Wow thanks for announcing that to the class. How about you tell me how a car is made now?
I shrug, "I don't know, I just can't seem to do it." I hear some students snickering.
Toa sighs, "Speak to me after class." And with that, class continues...
After the bell rings, I grab my stuff and walk to the front of the class and to Toa. It’s a shame this is my last class, I could have used the excuse of saying I need to get to my next class then say I forgot about him wanting to talk to me.
“Since you appear to be unable to do the assignment, I will be having you practice here until I excuse you.” Hey, at least it’s not him having me read tons of books. That memory gives me war flashbacks...
“At this point, I don’t even know I can do it anymore. I’ve tried countless times and-”
“I didn’t ask for your excuses. Sit down near the front and I will watch you and point out what you’re doing wrong.” One part of me really wants to see if I can run out of this classroom, the other part of me knows that if I try he’ll scold me and make it more difficult for me. That and I’ll likely get in trouble. I sigh and take a seat and a cup of water is set in front of me. Welp, time for another round of failure...
It feels like hours have gone by, though it was likely only an hour, and Toa continues telling me the things I’ve been going wrong; my posture, the position my hands are in, moving around too much, too stiff, my visualization, me zoning out and not paying attention, etc. I really am tired of this.
“Toa.” I say. He looks at me confused for a moment then surprised then annoyance after I grab the spray bottle from my bag and spray him with it. “Toa, stop with that Spartan way of teaching and be nicer.”
“My what-”
“Stop being so strict. I’m unable to help the fact I can’t do this “simple” spell that you keep shoving in my face.” He looks at me for a moment before sighing.
“I’ll stop bothering you about it then. You are dismissed.” I smile at him and he looks away.
“I don’t mind you teaching me in private, just try and be less strict and I’ll be able to tolerate it more.”
“I’ll... Keep that in mind.” Toa goes to grab papers on his desk and I look back at the water in front of me. I close my eyes for the manyith time and imagined what I wanted to happen. Water turning into wine. A sudden warmth suddenly appeared in my hands and when I opened my eyes, the water was wine. I looked up to see Toa staring at me, smiling. I smiled back.
(I know Manyith isn’t a word, let me make up words haha)
Roy
(oh boy time to put my thinking caps on cuz now I have no idea what to do with the rest of the S-Ranks, sorry if they’re short. Pray for me ya’ll, this gonna be made very yes after this)
Wow, great day, very sunny. I really don’t know what to say. Sherry dragged my outside and into the courtyard because she wanted to show me something apparently and she’s refusing the answer my questions.
“Can you tell me who or what you’re looking for?” I ask. Sherry has been looking for something for the past, I don’t know, 30 or so minutes.
“Hehe, not yet. It’s meant to be a surprise!” I don’t like the tone she’s using, this means she has some mischief planned. I wonder what, though... Before I can finish my thought, I hear Sherry celebrate in victory and I look over to see she has a hose. Oh god please tell me we’re gonna prank someone with that
“What are you planning on doing with that?” I tilt my head slightly in confusion and she laughs.
“You know that spray bottle you carry?”
“Um. Yeah? What about it?” I’m even more confused. Sherry’s smile gets bigger and she backs out of the way as I suddenly feel water spray on me from behind. “Hey!” I yelp in surprise and look back only to see Roy with another hose.
Roy laughs, “Revenge for last time,” he winks at me and suddenly I’m being sprayed by both Sherry and Roy. I’m being ganged up on by the brother and sister combo! I grab my spray bottle and start chasing Roy with it and occasionally Sherry, though she ran away after some time and so I got ahold of her hose and started chasing Roy with it. We continued to spray each other with water until we tire ourselves out.
Lynt
(Oh poor baby, he doesn’t deserve such bullying)
Where did he go? I swear he should have been in the courtyard like we planned. I spotted Tino and ran up to him.
“Tino, have you seen Lynt anywhere? I haven’t been able to find him.”
“Miss MC!” I guess I surprised him, whoops. “My apologies, I have not seen the young master. Have you checked his quarters?”
“I’ve checked everywhere I thought he would be. We were meant to meet up at the courtyard but he wasn’t there either.”
“Oh stars... I shall help you look for him then! That is if you don’t mind.”
“Thank you,” I smile, “I would appreciate it. If we can’t find him in an hour let's meet back here.” I get Tino’s approval for the plan and we walk our separate ways. Should I double check where I’ve looked? I probably missed some areas, I can look there again. Hmm... Maybe he’s sleeping somewhere in the courtyard? Hopefully I’m right...
I walk back to the courtyard and go on my search. Maybe if I’m quiet enough I’ll hear him? I stop and look around at potential hiding spots. I spot some strangely colored green near a flower bush and walk over. “So you were hiding here...”
Lynt opens his eyes then smiles at me, “Oh, MC, what are you doing here?”
“We agreed to meet up at the courtyard so you can speak to me, remember?” While I do find his behavior cute at times, it’s really annoying when he just forgets things like this. I’d rather not have my time waisted, even if it’s worth spending some extra time with him.
“Oh yes, that,” He still looks tired. He better not fall aslee- Lynt closes his eyes once more and I can just feel the upcoming headache this will cause.
“Lynt.” No responce. “Lynt, wake up.” Still no response. I really have no other choice now, do I?” I sigh and I grab my spray bottle and kneel down and softly squirt his face. My hand is suddenly grabbed and I’m pulled down onto Lynt chest.
“Sleepy... Would you sleep with me?” WORDING, AKEDIA, WORDING.
“But what about-” He’s already asleep before I can respond to him. God damn it. Whatever am I going to do with him...
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FINALLY
I FINISHED WRITING THIS
IT’S BEEN 15 YEARS /j
If I missed someone please tell me my memory is just a big no
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Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest
Summary: Din gives you a brief layout of his home.
A/N: Hello lovelies,
Another week, another chapter. It's funny as I'm editing, the story keeps getting longer. Lol.
Just want to remind everyone that the Razor Crest story is going to be a series of short stories dealing with the life of the Razor Crest Ranch, Ann's past and their future.
Once one series is done, there will be a two to three week break before the next series is posted. I hope that made sense.
Love oo.
Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.
Warning: feelings of safety, discussions of comm connections, mentions of protection, family endangerment, feelings of mistrust, I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.
AO3 Link |   Words: 1,038 |   Previous -> Next
Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest
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THE RAZOR CREST SEVEN
CHAPTER SIX
The way she looked around the room, made Din pause for a brief second. He couldn’t help wonder what exactly had she gone through. Yet, at the same time he had no right to inquire, it wasn’t any of his business to know about her past. 
He pushed the thought aside, as his mind focused back on showing the room.
“There’s a closet right here,” Din motioned to the door to his left, “it’s not very big. There’s some extra blankets and pillows if you need in the bedroom bench” he opened the end-of-bed bench as he spoke, showing off the various blankets and their varying thickness. 
Camilla was an avid blanket aficionado and adamant when it came to blankets, stating over and over again whenever she walked into the house with a newly purchased one, they were a necessity. Each blanket was unique and served a different purpose, just because you might use one in winter, doesn’t mean you would use the same one in spring, and having just one blanket for each season was never enough.  
As I stood in the room, this feeling of complete safety washed over me. I finally felt safe. I’m not sure if it was because of the remote location, or due to the man I met not even an hour ago who was willing to take the chance on me, or because I had an escape route with Cobb and Fenn if I needed. 
For the first time in a long time, I finally was able to let out a breath of relief, tears were welling up in my eyes as a lump formed in my throat, which I quickly tried to swallow down. I didn’t want to cry.
Din watched her not quite able to understand what she was thinking or feeling. There was just a blank expression on her face as she glanced around the room, he couldn’t tell if she was upset or pleased with the room, however, he figured it was better to play it safe and assumed the former, “I’m sorry it’s not more, but feel free to make it your own after you complete your three months.”
“No” I shook my head, turning to look out the window as I discreetly wiped a tear, “No, it’s great. Cozy.” I cursed myself as my voice trembled. I took in a deep breath turning to look at Din, “Thank you. It’s quite lovely.”
The expression on her face stunned him for a second, her face bloomed with joy, the only way he could describe the radiance she seemed to have was that she finally found hope. It made her look enchanting, he glanced around the room focusing his attention elsewhere.  
“I’m glad you like it,” he nodded. 
“Oh, before I forget,” he continued, “personal comms sometimes have a hard time working out here. We have internet which technically should be harder to get out here, but nope that’s easy to access.” He shrugged as she tilted her head at him as to ask why, when he held up his hand, “Don’t bother asking why one and not the other. I have spent a lot of time trying to fix it, so my personal comm could work, but I’ve finally given up. I think it has something to do with the minerals in the mountains that are at my door step. Anyway, there’s a landline in the kitchen, in the bedrooms, as you can see from the one in your room” he motioned with his head to the non-portable comm, “There’s also one in the study, living room and barn. If you ever need to use the phone, you can use one of those, just not the one in my bedroom. After three months, we can talk about getting you a private line, if you wish.”
I nodded in agreement, but really who was I going to call. I couldn’t call any of my friends or family or it would put them in danger, learned that after the first time I tried to leave. It was better not to make deeper connections with anyone, yet Cobb and Fennec both said that now things were different. They’d be able to watch out for me, and provide me a layer of protection I didn’t have before, there was a hope things would be getting better. I still wouldn’t be able to reach out to my family, at least not until they’d be able to set up some way to contact them discreetly, the sheer idea of having that option weighed heavily on my heart. However, it wasn’t important to focus on that, especially since that was not a guaranteed possibility. Instead, what I needed to focus on was the here and now. 
“Appreciate it. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t be entering your room unless it’s to clean or grab the laundry.”
Din simply shook his head, “Not even then.” There was a quizzical expression on her face, ion response to his statement. 
“You don’t have to clean my room, I’ll do it. You can simply leave the fresh bedding on the chair in front of the door to my room. Anyway, laundry room is off the back entrance, and I have a laundry shoot that goes directly into that room. You may find on occasion some dirty clothes or towels in the mud room which is beside the kitchen and in front of the laundry room. We have a storm cellar, filled with essentials for the occasional tornadoes, the entrance is in the kitchen. There’s a faux pantry door, which leads you down there, I’ll show you when you’re ready. It’s also where I keep the wine and liquor.”
“How long could someone stay down there for?”
“Depends on the amount of people, but if it’s two or three people, I would say about four to six months. If there’s more, we’ll go through our rations a lot faster.”
My eyes widened in shock, “How … how big is it?”
“Big enough to house, two bedrooms, washroom, living room, kitchen, study, rec room/work out room and storage room.” Din chewed on the inside of his cheek wondering if maybe he made a mistake revealing too much too soon. 
AO3 Link |   Words: 1,038 |   Previous -> Next
Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest
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abugwritesstuff · 2 years
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The Princes React to MC Being Sick: Lance
last one! i love writing lance so this was fun. enjoy!
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The tavern was livelier than usual and it was giving Lance a headache. At least, he was fairly certain that was what it was. It could’ve also been the sound of Fenn and Hawke’s overly loud banter back and forth, which he’d been unfortunately caught between. Usually such noise was bearable, but this evening was proving to be too much for his nerves. Gritting his teeth, he swished the last remaining dregs of his whiskey around in the bottom of his glass before sending it back and slamming the glass to the counter. 
“Ah, already finished? Will you go another round with us, then?” Fenn’s arm snaked around his shoulder and he leaned in close enough for Lance to pick out the precise liquors in the other man’s most recent cocktail. 
“‘Fraid not,” Lance grumbled. He pushed back from his seat and shrugged his coat back on, then dug in his pocket for change, depositing it on the bar and nodding to the bartender. “I’m heading back now.”
“Oi lad, kind of an early night for ya,” Hawke slurred, his eyes wide. “Sure you don’t want another before you go?”
Fenn grinned and reached across to give the professor a hearty slap on the shoulder. “You’re forgetting he has a girl to go home to these days,” he teased. “Perhaps his mind is just… elsewhere.”
Hawke feigned offense and clapped a hand to his chest. “Are we not entertaining enough for ya, lad?”
Lance scowled. “Shut up, you. It’s none of your business anyway. I’m just tired,” he retorted, sending a sharp glare at both men- who after sharing a brief look of their own, burst into drunken laughter and turned to the bartender to order their next round. 
Outside, the cool night air and relative silence calmed Lance’s nerves. It wasn’t entirely off-base for them to accuse him of thinking of his paramour, really. And he had become somewhat more straight-laced in the time since he’d made her his girl. He even attended classes most days, to the extent that he’d elevated rank alongside her. Not that it was difficult, mind you, but bothering with the effort to go about it at all was entirely because she’d pouted at the suggestion he’d remain a C rank out of pure negligence. Her face… did things to him. Strange, un-Lance-like things. 
Now that they’d put the idea in his head, Lance found himself turning in the direction of the dorms. He hadn’t planned on doing anything other than retiring to his chambers, smoking a bit, and passing out, but now that he was thinking of her, he craved seeing her. The hour was late, but perhaps she wasn’t quite asleep yet.
Sneaking up the stairs was easier this time of night since prefect Toa was off-duty, he noted. He crept up the stairs and turned the corner to her chambers, knocking twice on her familiar door. He’d really only been a few times, but he’d memorized the route just in case. Strangely though, there was silence and no response. His stomach sank with disappointment as the seconds stretched on- no light came from underneath her door, so thinking her asleep, he turned to leave.
“Ah, Prince Ira?”
He looked over his shoulder to find the tiny Invidian princess standing there at the next door down. She was clad in a long pink nightgown and was rubbing her eyes blearily. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll be off.”
“Wait. You are looking for MC, yes? I’m glad you came. I don’t believe I saw her return to her chambers this evening.”
“...Pardon?” Lance turned around and stared at her. “What do you mean?”
Sherry folded her arms, looking worried. “She remained in the library to study after Rio and I left. I thought I would see her in the refectory or later when she returned to the dorms, but I didn’t. It is awfully late for her to be out.”
Lance took in a breath. It was true that she didn’t often stay out late. Curfew had passed, so she certainly wouldn’t be out of her own volition. She wasn’t a delinquent like he was, after all. There were only two options: she’d been detained somewhere, or she’d remained in the library. Shaking off the nerves of the first possibility, Lance nodded his thanks to Sherry and waved at her. “I’ll find her. No need to worry, Princess.”
“Thank you, Prince Lance.”
“Just Lance is fine.”
Lance snuck back down the stairs and headed for the library. This was another route he’d become increasingly familiar with in his time since meeting her. The girl spent a truly inordinate amount of time there, much to his dismay. When she dragged him there to complete homework assignments it was practically an academic jail sentence: he knew he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. 
When he entered the library, a few lamps were still lit. Lance lit a ball of light in his palm to guide his way, scanning the aisles of bookshelves and study tables for signs of his paramour. Finally, in a back corner of the library he spotted her, slumped over a table strewn with books and paper filled with notes. Relief crept over him and he sped to her side to rouse her. 
“Oi, wake up. It’s late, you ought to get to bed. Properly, not here.”
“Hmmph…?” she mumbled, then started, sitting up abruptly. A piece of notepaper stuck to the side of her face and Lance peeled it off, leaning on the table to get a better look at her face. “Oh, Lance…? Why are you here…?”
“Because I was looking for you. Have you any idea how late it is? Can’t sleep here, you’ll catch a cold,” Lance replied, holding out a hand to her. “Come now, off to bed with you.”
She stared at his hand for a moment, disoriented. As she began to reach out her own hand, her face screwed up and she turned quickly, sneezing so hard the papers around her fluttered, sending some flying off the table. She sniffled a bit and blinked up at him.
It was at this moment that Lance took note of the puffy look around her eyes and the labored sound of her breath. He sent the disrupted papers back to the table in a pile and took her by the hand, pulling her to her feet to examine her face up close. “...You’ve already caught a cold of some sort by the looks of it,” he declared. He sighed. “This is why you oughtn’t stay out in the library late like this. Come now.”  
He dragged his slightly disoriented paramour from the library- and instead of taking her to her own bedroom, he took off his cloak, settled it onto her shoulders, and led her off to his own chambers. 
“...I appreciate all this, but just a little cold isn’t all that serious. I could just rest in my own room and I’m sure I’d be fine tomorrow,” she protested weakly.
While this was technically true, Lance found himself rebelling against it internally. And that said, her condition seemed to be worsening the closer they came to dorm Nivalis. Her steps had slowed considerably and her breathing had become more labored. All in all, it appeared to be the beginnings of a rather nasty illness. Lance had more than enough reasons to take illnesses seriously. 
“You’ll stay with me.”
“It’s no problem?”
He raised an eyebrow. “It’s never been a problem. Never will be.” He placed a hand on her back and ushered her into the room, then onto the bed, immediately turning to start a fire in the fireplace and tp set the kettle to boiling for a pot of tea. She watched as he rifled around in the drawers for clothing, which he then tossed in her direction beside her on the bed. “Go ahead and change into those. A bit big for you, but warmer than what you’ve got on.”
She picked up the clothing and slowly began the process of peeling off her clothing. Out of courtesy, Lance usually kept his back turned- it seemed like the right thing to do, even if she was his paramour, but casting one glance over his shoulder he saw the fatigue creeping into each movement, her fingers moving clumsily and slowly over each button. Sighing, he walked across the room and sank to his knees in front of her. 
“You’re going to freeze if you take that long,” he huffed. With a flourish of magic, her clothes peeled off and pooled at the floor, and Lance took to swiftly redressing her in his own oversized clothes, which hung off her frame cartoonishly. Throughout the process her face turned pink- something Lance elected to pretend he didn’t notice but privately found rather amusing. 
“You’re awfully quick with that,” she mumbled, rolling up one sleeve of his sweatshirt around her wrist as he rolled the other. 
“I’ve had to do it for Christoph from time to time,” Lance explained, standing. “He fell into the pond once in the winter. Would’ve been frostbitten if I hadn’t been quick about it.” With that, he turned and poured a cup of hot water- then squeezed a bit of lemon and honey and tipped in a healthy dash of whiskey. He passed it to her silently and after a single sip, she stopped and stared down at the drink quizzically. 
“Does this have alcohol in it?”
Lance nodded. “Yes. Good for the throat, that is. Drink all of it.”  
She rolled her eyes a bit. “Yessir,” she mumbled against the rim of the cup. But she did as told, so Lance was satisfied and he pulled up a chair beside the bed and leaned his chin on his hand, watching her as she sat cross-legged on the bed drinking. She glanced in his direction and raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Are you just going to sit there and watch me?” she asked.
He shrugged. “...Perhaps.”
After a few moments, her gaze softened and she reached over to run her hand across his hair. “You’re a little bit of a worrier, y’know,” she murmured. Through the haze of her burgeoning illness, Lance could see the mischievous, teasing glint in her eye and scoffed, sitting back in his chair. 
“Not hardly,” he replied. “I just know not to take these things too lightly. You’re a bit reckless. Someone ought to take care of you.”
She gasped, feigning offense. “Me, reckless? Who’s the one that skips out on class and breaks curfew every night?”
Lance laughed. “I don’t do that nearly as much these days. Besides, this evening you broke curfew all on your own. Perhaps we’re rubbing off on each other,” he teased. “We have to keep the balance some way, eh?”
With a giggle she hid her face in her mug and drank the remaining drops of the drink and smiled as Lance took the empty cup and placed it on the table for her. “You’re really very motherly, you know.” 
Lance’s face screwed up. “Motherly?”
She leaned back against the pillows, grinning. At that moment, Lance pulled back the covers and laid them over her, pulling them up to her shoulders. She laughed aloud, amused. “Yes, you just did it right then. You’re a bit of a mother hen. To me, Christoph, Gruscha, even Xavier a little.” 
He huffed in annoyance, but rubbed the back of his neck as he thought it over. Perhaps he was a bit doting from time to time, but motherly? No. He shook his head and sat on the bed beside her. “So? What’s the matter with that? Maybe you need it.”
Smiling, she leaned in close and pressed the tip of her nose to his. “I definitely do need it. Thank you, Lance.” With that, she leaned in close to rest her head on his chest.
Lance wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in close, relaxing into the warmth of her body as he laid down on the bed beside her. “Like I said. Never a problem,” he whispered against the top of her head before placing a kiss there. When she moved to look at him, he pressed her head back down against his chest gently. “Go to sleep, then. Or else you won’t get well.”
She laughed but said nothing else- and soon enough she was fast asleep, snoring lightly into the fabric of his shirt. Besides that the room was silent, save for the occasional crack and pop of the fire across the room. He stared up at the ceiling above them. The quiet of the moment was soothing and he thanked the stars he’d decided to abscond from the tavern early, both for her sake and his own. One night with her, no matter the context, was worth a million of the best nightcaps, he thought to himself- a sappy sentiment he hadn’t thought possible before he met her and she’d insisted on being a part of his life. He sent another silent thanks to the stars for that tenacity in the face of his rough exterior.
As the night progressed, her breathing evened out and with a sigh of relief, Lance closed his eyes and fell asleep beside her.
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onedayimgonnasnap · 2 years
Text
So I’m basically gonna be changing the MC’s personality for this fic (Because of why not)
Also I haven’t finished the Tino route 💀
But I’ll be remaking some of the parts from his route to mix in with MCs new found personality. so if you’re confused that’s why
Anyways Enjoy-
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Tino X Mean Reader
(The MC’s gender is up to the reader’s own perspective)
Warning: Inappropriate language
“What makes you so special?”
“Yeah you’re pretty average looking!”
“I can’t believe you even regret and avoid the princes special attention! You’re so weird.”
Is what a bunch of female students were yelling at you about. You started to grow annoyed due to the fact this wasn’t any of their business.
After seeing Fenn’s special affection towards you during class, they grew jealous and had you outside in the garden cornered basically all surrounding you. Just to insult you.
You stared at them before speaking; “Well maybe if you guys weren’t so busy stalking any of the princes from afar maybe, just maybe they’d ask you how you’re day was” You put your hand over your mouth to add a dramatic gasp.
“What are you trying to say yourself, we talk to the princes and you’re just a harlot who seduced them.” One of them spoke out starting a whole feud of insults and questions yelled out at you.
“You know… I was thinking about this a lot- But when was this any all of your businesses?” You raised your eye brow at them slowly grinning.
“Of course this is our business we trying to protect them from the likes of you!” Yelled a girl angrily.
You put your hand over your chin to pretend to think. “Hmm… you know you still could yell at me for the most stupidest shit, you could tell the short girl with the black hair and glasses how you slept with her brother.” You smirked.
You basically decided to get a rise out of all of them for you to run away while they were arguing. And you overheard the girl crying outside how guilty she was to her other friend.
They both preceded to yell at each other. While the other girls tried to get them to call down as they were going that, someone was heard walking through the bushes.
A tall man around your age, blonde hair and green eyes walked over out of a bush accidentally gaining all of the attention on him. He looked afraid, looked back at you and the cult members.
“I apologize, but has anyone seen Master Lynt?” He spoke out anxiously. The girls all looked at him with pity.
“No Im sorry none of us have.” One of the girls spoke while frowning.
Thinking about using this whole situation to my advantage; “Hey! I Can help you Look for him, if you’d like!”
His eyes soon started sparking like with happiness. Before any of the girls could deny he grabbed your hand and walked off happily thanking you.
.
.
.
As soon as you both were out of sight from them he let go of your hand.
“Maybe we should look in the lounge area where all the S-Ranks usually hang out!”
He suggested extremely grateful.
Unfortunately for him however, you didn’t wanna waste your time on something so idiotic.
“Listen that’s great and all you wanna look for the Prince however, you were just my escape plan. Have fun on your own.” You gave him a dark closed eyed smile at him.
This threw him off guard at what you said and he looked extremely sad. It reminded you of a kitten in a shelter beginning you to bring it home with you.
You were about to leave, but you quickly turned back as he looked down in sadness,
“You know what? Never mind I’ll help you look for him.” You groaned
His face soon brightened up with joy hearing this from you.
.
.
.
As you both were looking for Prince Lynt he began to introduce himself to you.
His name was Valentino Maes, he was Lynt’s valet, you could tell a lot about him from the information he told you about, his body language, his voice and tone when he got excited about anything.
He was being super moronic trusting someone like this especially with this type of information he was giving out.
You frowned at the thought.
He was pretty friendly and kind you could tell, but to much of a door mat where anyone could step on him.
And based on how anxious he gets you could already tell something or someone happened to make him this way.
He’d always apologized to you, in fear he offended you.
It was quite annoying.
“Oh my stars! I’m so sorry I didn’t think before I asked how was your day, I’m so sorry.” He bowed over and over again at you.
You smacked his head hard, from the top giving him a good hit.
He put his hands on his head almost in tears.
“Stop apologizing to me, you just asked a question. It wasn’t even personal, it’s just plain manners to ask. And if I hear you apologize for something stupid like that I’ll kick you in the stomach.”
You gave him an annoyed look, you felt bad for it unexpectedly but you were not going to baby him.
“I understand!” He said quickly composing himself quickly.
You both eventually became unexpected acquaintances to each other after talking to each other and basically getting to to know one and another before you found Lynt of course.
After you both found Lynt, you felt happy a little for their ruination, but quickly shook it off and went to go say good bye to one and another.
———————
The next day you woke up along with Robin to find a basket with bread in it, with a thank you note from Valentino.
You smiled and brought it inside for you and Robin to consume.
.
.
.
After lectures you accidentally bumped into the man in question who basically have you free breakfast.
“Oh my! I’m sorry MC.” He apologized again which made you frown.
“Valentino calm down it wasn’t a big deal stop making a fuss over it.”
You stated with your hands on your hips showing him your frown.
“You know you can call me just ‘Tino’” He gave you a small smile to distract himself from making you upset again he also showed you a preference.
“Alright Tino.”
“So did you enjoy the bread I brought to your dorm door step?”
He said clearly trying to change the subject embarrassed how you spoke his name.
“The bread was good, did you make it yourself?” You asked.
You learned that he loves to bake in general and learned different type of ways to make bread and prepare food because Lynt doesn’t like to eat that much
————
Tino’s presence started becoming more bearable on you slowly, but surely from the coincidences you’d see eachother.
You thought he looked like a happy golden retriever, especially from the joy he gets from seeing you consume the food he’s prepared.
But the joy is nothing compared to the joy he feels when Lynt eats his food.
You taught him to basically have a little more self respect as a human and rolled up a piece of paper to hit him with it if he didn’t.
He began to do better and better and it looked like he had lost a couple of bricks of weight off his back.
In return from the influence from him, you started to be alittle more sympathetic towards other. But still remained petty and prideful as ever.
.
.
.
One day as you were walking from you lectures, you over heard a conversation.
“Don’t you think they’re a stuck up know it all?”
“I mean It still doesn’t change the fact that they are really bad at magic.”
You wished you care less but however you heard a familiar name.
“Don’t you agree Tino?”
One of the girl said, you were about to get mad about what the hell you are assuming what was going on.
“No, I don’t agree with that at all!”
The voice of Tino could be heard.
“MC is kinder than you think! They are an extremely respectable person.” He stood up for you.
Soon your face grew red and your heart started beating rapidly at the embarrassment as you got up and left.
—-
Ever since that fateful day, you began to see Tino, in a different light. Did you always see him that way? You don’t really know when exactly.
Sherry the self proclaimed match maker and it caught her attention. She’d make comments from time to time about you and Tino. You both would be awkwardly blushing and spitting around random things to change the subjects.
Tino couldn’t help but feel this happiness towards you, he wished to be near you more and more. His heart would race at the thought of you both holding hands.
He respects you a lot, your sense of humor, your favorite dishes, your odd language. All of it would make Tino happy in general.
He slowly started to love himself more and it was all because of you teaching him that having boundaries is ok, and he shouldn’t try to please everyone around him.
.
.
.
One day Tino invited you personally to come to the library with him go hang out, as you arrive there you could tell he was feeling super anxious once again.
“Is something wrong, are you alright?”
You asked raising your eyebrow.
Tino immediately flinched and jumped. Looking both at you and as his shoes awkwardly.
“You know I can leave if you’d like?”
You asked awkwardly getting up from your seat and walking away, immediately before you can go Tino grabs your hand gently trying not to hurt you.
“Please don’t go yet, I wanted to tell you something.”
He pleaded looking at you, with tears in his eyes.
“Ok then, when you’re ready.” You sat back down looking at him expectedly
Tino began to relax under your gaze, as he took a seat along side with you.
He all of the sudden had a serious look in his face.
“Listen, I wanted to thank you for helping look for Master Lynt that day. Even when you didn’t want to you complied to help someone who I would assume to be pathetic in your eyes.-“
“Tino. You shouldn’t be little yourself especially assuming what I think of you not knowing for sure, and if I thought that way then who cares-“
He cut you off and held both of your hands refusing to break eye contact.
“But I care! I care about what you think of me, you amaze me with everything. I want to be by your’s and master Lynt’s side forever!
I enjoy the days Im able to see you laugh, to see your concern for me! Even when you tell me stop belittling myself and think more of myself, im happy that you care so much about me!”
Your heart started pounding at how he was describing you gave him an unknown look.
He soon thought it was rejection to which he backed down.
“Im sorry, I didn’t mean to come off so strongly.”
He apologized looking down.
You soon grabbed both of his hands and asked the big question.
“Will you be my Paramour?”
You asked while blushing.
He quickly shook his head up and down to afraid that anything he will say will leave a negative impact.
“MC, could I… kiss you?”
He asked while blushing extremely hard, trying his best to maintain eye contact with you.
You shook your head up and down mimicking him from earlier. He then proceeded to lean down slowly to give you a peck on the lips.
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subqtaneoussmut · 1 year
Text
The Tea Girl's Gambit, Chapter Five
My legs were hurrying me to class but my head was a-swirl with confusion, shame and, unmistakably...envy. Not just shame at the envy, which was familiar in the way a toothache is familiar, but also shame at having been actually, actually seen committing the envy. I was reeling with the peculiar sense of having been recognized. My depths measured and plumbed and somehow known. It was terrifying. My heart was smashing frantically around like a bird trapped behind glass.
I turned down a rarely used servant’s passage, leaned against the wall and slumped down to sitting. I heaved a deep breath. I was over-reacting. There was no way that girl could actually know anything about me, right? I was fairly sure there hadn’t been any spellcraft involved. She had just looked at me.
I shook my head, bemused. Why had she looked at me? Nobody else did. People’s attention slipped off me like oil slipped off of water and I liked it that way. It was safe.
My heart was slowing down. There was no way she could have known what I was thinking when I saw her. I had never spoken my secret to another soul other than Kisma, never written it down. I knew the consequences of my yearning, even as a quiet child among the older, rougher kids of Stuhkrad.
The adults of the town hadn’t liked to talk about the small, moss-covered statues scattered in the forests and ravines around the milltown, but the older kids couldn’t gossip enough about their mingled, hybrid bodies. The town children called them kuffa. Most of them had been smashed and buried by the Imperial settlers when they’d driven out the native forest people a generation ago.
But once, exploring in the woods beyond the clear-cuts with my brother Carame and his friends, we’d found a narrow cave and slipped inside. I would have faltered, but Carame was fearless and his courage was like a drug to me. One of the boys had swiped a chemical light-stick from the Foundry. He broke it with a hiss and a sizzle of reagents mixing and the darkness flooded with brassy, white light.
I remembered the rich, earthy reds and browns and yellows of the little shrine. I remembered the little pots of unguents, the glittering quartz, the figurines and the swell of their breasts and their cocks. I remembered the older boys shouting with glee as they smashed everything and urinated on it. I remembered Carame pausing in the frenzy to turn and look at where I stood frozen against the wall, his face deep in shadow, unreadable.
I took a sharp breath and staggered to my feet, pushing down the razor-edged feeling in my throat. I was late to alchemy class.
I slipped into Advanced Principles while professor Yvell was still lecturing, my face numb and dry. I tried to concentrate but everything seemed very distant and hard to understand.
Memories continued to flood my head. The rattle of stones against brickwork around me as I ran from a gang of bullies, my whole back stinging, lungs burning. Every day, running after school. Hiding in the Foundry, a sprawling complex of workshops and labs that also contained the town’s singular, tiny, non-private library. The Foundry was Gresha’s domain, and I liked Gresha. She was a tall, stooped, squint-eyed and white-haired and gruffly kind. She gave off the smell of burnt leather and quenched iron.
Gresha was busy, because the Foundry fed the mill and the loggers with a constant supply of carefully machined new gears and cleats and plates and wheels to replace broken parts as well as chemical lights and waxes and lubricants and a hundred other things. All the same, Gresha let me read by the wood stove while she mixed powders or grumbled around in the next room, the whine of the lathe cutting on and off.
She had other staff doing piecework and delivering finished orders. Fenn had a big, calm face and limitless patience and I liked to watch his clever hands as he worked. He was mute, but he pointed carefully at each tool he used and re-positioned the light so I could see what he was doing with them. I watched him fix the boiler so many times that soon I began doing it in his stead, so he could finish his orders sooner and maybe have more time to bake a tasty treat for everyone.
Heather was a brisk, no-nonsense, ruddy-cheeked woman, Gresha’s lifelong ‘companion’, who had a sharp tongue for Gresha but a soft spot for me. She liked to rouse me from my reading nest of burlap bags by the stove to sweep or to chop onions, but always made sure I had a full belly.
The accredited town alchemist lived very handsomely in a whitestone house at the top of the hill and charged customers dearly. Gresha wasn’t officially an alchemist, had certainly never trained at a university, but she had a keen, methodical mind and she was brilliant at seeing what a thing might be able to do.
She casually nudged me towards certain books and when I came to her for more, she hmph-ed and her eyebrows, which were always growing back from being burnt off, climbed in the way they did when she tried something and it worked to her satisfaction. She asked me questions about the books—did the long-winded descriptions of how to render materials down to their basic underlying principles bore me? What about the chapter on crystalline liquids had I liked best? I found that I liked to impress her with my responses and quickly learned to see past the ways she tried to hide it.
Soon, she started dictating her notes while she was elbows deep in a project and had me scribe for her. She would look over my shoulder and poke at the page with a blunt finger and show me how, no, this is the abbreviation for sulfuric acid and that’s not how to copy a cipher correctly, try this, see? She began to check less and less often for mistakes, and I ate up the tiny signs of her satisfaction with glowing pride.
Carame had begun working in the mill and came home more and more hollow-eyed every night, ate, then slept and left again in the pre-dawn darkness. Without him to protect me, the everyday torture of school intensified and I got thrashed in the street and pelted with stones even more often. To give my bullies the slip, I began to spend more and more time at the Foundry and made fewer trips at odder hours to the shouting, crowded graybrick tenement that my older brothers and sisters and mother occupied.
My sister Kisma had started working nights at a bakery. I still risked visits to see her before her shift started and we slipped away to the roof among the flapping lines of laundry to smoke her halfpenny tobacco and giggle and watch sunset bands of pink and orange melt into the dark blue dusk. She told me about sneaking leftover dough out of work with her friends one night and stuffing it in the mouths of the vainglorious statues that lined the town square, so that all the pigeons came and ate it all and covered their strong chins and proud barrel chests with runny white streaks, so it looked, she laugh-snorted, “like they’d all been eating bird ass!”
I told her about when Gresha had set me to mixing up some bio-phosphate to dope an set of passive light emitters for the hanging walkways at the mill, I’d had some left over, and mixed the extra into the bowl of slop that Heather left at the Foundry door each night for the town’s stray cats. For a night, all the street cats of Stuhkrad had run around glowing neon blue and meowing their exasperation. Heather had such a fright she’d scolded me about it for a week.
“What! Eli! That was you?” Kisma sounded simultaneously amused and reproachful. “You’re lucky nobody started a witch-hunt. And how did you know the cats would be alright?!” She shook her head. “Maybe leave the pranks to your big sister, kid.”
My feet were hanging over the edge of the building. I kicked them, pouting. Truthfully, I wasn’t usually so daring and had only done the deed so I could impress my older sister, for once.
“I knew the cats would be alright! I did the factoring myself,” I mumbled sulkily. I knew Kisma didn’t really understand the stuff I was learning at the Foundry. But it still stung a bit, that she assumed I hadn’t known.
She raised her eyebrows at me. “You’re really smart, Eli. But you can also be really, really, really dumb, you know that?” She sighed. “Oh, I just worry about you sometimes.”
Truthfully, I was somewhat worried, too. All of my brothers were heading to the mill, or to be bargemen and cart drivers, and when I tried to imagine following them, of living that life, there was only a yawning, all-devouring blankness. I thought Gresha was training me to take her place, and at least that didn’t seem so bad. When she sat me down and told me in her gravelly voice that she was going to aim me at the Imperial merit exams, I spluttered and gaped, but in my belly a tiny circle of light opened. I could leave. I could get out.
I fed and grew that tiny light with long winter nights of obsessive reading and ciphering and memorizing tables and properties and principles until I closed my eyes to sleep and saw numbers dancing on my closed eyelids. I bent all my waking hours towards alchemy, which needed no inherited talent or gift of sorcery. I cut school and rarely went home and spent nearly all my time at the Foundry, working in the shop or studying. Lots of kids my age had already dropped out of the town school to work at the mill or on the steep slopes of the logging clear-cuts. It began to get safer for me to walk the narrow, cobbled streets without risking a beating.
Some nights, rubbing my booksore eyes, I thought guiltily of my sister Kisma sitting alone on the roof, again. But there was so, so much to do. I had seen her last week, hadn’t I? Or was that last fortnight?
And last spring, after four years of study, when the guarded wagons came to Stukrad with the merit tests locked inside, I watched them roll through the cobbled streets and up the hill biting the inside of my cheek so hard that my mouth filled with warm, metal-salty blood.
Two days later, I floated out of the testing hall, my shoulders tense and taut as lashed mill cables, my lip half-chewed through, my stomach a wreck, my eyes bloodshot, my hair a snarled bird’s nest, knowing I had demolished the test. I slept for two days on Gresha’s spare cot in one of the backrooms, waking only to piss and to drink the cold broth she’d left by my head. And cry. I hadn’t been able to cry since I was ten, but some blockage had crumbled, some rusty switch had finally slid into place inside me, and I bit Gresha’s pillow and shuddered with waves and waves of sobs that seemed to rise ceaselessly from someplace deep inside me.
Results from the exams took months to come back. In the meantime, I occupied my hands working for Gresha in the Foundry. I visited Kisma, who was getting married, and brought her a small blue dropper bottle of contraceptive—which I was ridiculously proud of, not least of all because any control by women over the reproductive power of the Democracy was frowned on by Imperial social hygienists. By teaching me how to make it, Gresha had clearly staked her trust in me. I found Carame, who was getting roaring drunk at the tavern with his mates, and brought him similar bottle but with a hangover cure in it instead. I didn’t visit Carame again.
When the results came, Heather insisted all four of us cluster around the scarred table in the kitchen before she even brought out the envelope. I tore it open, scanned it, then gasped and stumbled backwards and tripped over a chair. Heather grabbed the letter, squinted, whooped, and yanked me up and sank my head into her bosom. Gresha grunted, brought out a bottle of peach brandy and conferred upon me (when I had extracted myself from Heather) a sagacious nod. Fenn hefted a steaming, gold-crusted pie as large as wagon wheel out of the oven. I looked around at the three of them and tried to fix their faces in my memory. This is what I wanted to remember, when I thought of home. This good, glowing evening, surrounded by people who cared about me.
~ ~ ~
In the back of the lecture hall, I swallowed my emotions. My throat ached. I missed Heather, and Gresha and Fenn. Starting out at the University had been very lonely. I felt so out of place here. But hadn’t I felt so out of place in Stuhkrad, too? I woke up so many mornings full of relief that I wasn’t back there anymore, and that couldn’t be faked, right? Ididn’t think that I would ever willingly return, even though that probably made me a horrible person. I felt guilty about it, because it was ungrateful and disloyal to Gresha and Heather, Kisma and Fenn, and even Carame, wasn’t it? But when I thought of going back there, even to work with Gresha in the Foundry, I felt such a crushing suffocation. But why?
I had unpleasant memories, but so did everyone. Why did the thought of a life there, with the few and only people in the world who cared about me, fill me with a heavy and endless dread? Why did that life feel like it would be a living death?
My attention was yanked back to the lecture hall as Master Yvell finished a long, droning speech and the assembled students burst into enthusiastic applause. What was going on? Nobody applauded Yvell. Then I saw the sweep of his arm as he looked offstage and realized that he had been introducing someone.
She walked onto the lecture stage and I could only stare.
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cutieodonoghue · 2 years
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be still for now oneshots #1 - good life
summary:  Set between BoBF and season 3 of Mando, Clan Mudhorn enjoys a few weeks of peace and quiet on Nevarro. Part of a series of interconnected oneshots in The Edge of Hope & The Edge of Dawn universe. 
rating: g
word count: ~2.5k
read on ao3 here!
an: Hi friends! This collection of stories has been cooking for a while and I’ve finally found the courage to share them. All of these oneshots take place over the course of a few weeks, and they're really just pure fluff and family sweetness that will make your heart all warm. That's the hope anyway! :) 
-
1: Good Life
Omera’s fingers ran through Din’s hair in a soothing rhythm that could have put him back to sleep easily. 
His head rested on her stomach, nestled there after he earned a half-dozed good morning kiss with his arms wrapped around her and her palm cradling his face. She’d snuggled close, humming sleepily when his lips trailed lower. Her fingertips touched his scalp and every thought he had melted him right into her, craving as much of this feeling as she’d give him.
He was too relaxed to move, too comfortable in the warmth of their bed with new morning light that poured in from their bedroom windows. He was lucky - so lucky - that he had all of this: a wife who loved him in the gentleness of her touch, a warm bed, a place to call his home.
He knew he would have to get up soon. Fenn would wake up first, then Grogu, and a reliable Winta would be right on his heels. 
The kids had given them a full night of peaceful rest, having determined that their own beds were adequate for sleeping the entire night- finally. His firm warning that they shouldn’t come find them in the middle of the night had felt a little mean at the time, but now that he could reap the reward, he didn’t regret it.
“You haven’t cut your hair in a while,” Omera spoke up softly. 
She drew her fingers through the unkempt waves and curls that he’d inherited from his father, made all the more mussed from his pillow and a full night of rest. Her touch was soothing and gentle, just as the sound of her voice was.
Din took a deep breath to inhale her sweet scent before he perched himself upright, gently touching his chin to her waist. 
“Haven’t had time.”
His wife combed her fingers through the hair at the front of his head and her teeth grazed her lower lip thoughtfully. 
“Would you like me to cut it for you?”
He’d never expected her to cut his hair, so he never asked her to. It was one of the things that he’d always done for himself in private, hidden away from prying eyes so he could tidy himself up the way that he wanted.
Admittedly, he’d slacked off as of late. They were busy. The kids were distracting. He didn’t have time for himself anymore, which was fine. Maybe when he was younger, he would have taken issue with the lack of privacy, with the lack of time, but now that he had bigger responsibilities, putting his desires first would be selfish.
Omera smiled when he finally lifted himself off of her. He boosted himself up with his hands on either side of her so he covered her with his body and leaned in close. Their eyes met with instant attraction as her fingers changed their method to instead tease the unshaven scruff on his cheeks.
“You can if you want to.”
She grinned and her fingers found the back of his head, pulling him down toward her with the suggestion of a kiss breathed in the quiet between them.
“Okay,” she agreed, their noses bumping in a tantalizing tease. “Just a trim. I know what you like.”
His smile pressed against hers, and for a minute they were able to be, just the two of them in the warm confines of their blankets and pillows. It was perfection distilled into a heartbeat of time, where nothing else existed and nothing else mattered but the feeling of her soft lips and the gentle hand on his cheek.
Just beyond their sealed bedroom door, he heard their son. The kids seemed to have a sixth sense for the perfect moment in time and were always ready to interrupt it. 
Din collapsed into the place where he slept at Omera’s side and caught his breath with a weary sigh. 
Morning bliss faded quickly into thoughts of what needed to be done next, but Omera didn’t let him get away as easily as he tried to. Her body curled into his as if she’d woken up in the middle of the night to one of his nightmares and wanted to comfort him. 
“He’s not gonna go back to sleep.”
“I know,” she murmured. “He takes after you. He’s ready to take on the day.”
Din sighed, playfully annoyed at the implication. 
It was true. She was right. He liked to get to work as soon as he woke up, not one to lounge around for longer than necessary- although with his wife in bed beside him, he’d quickly changed his tune. She was worth lounging around for.
Omera kissed his jaw and he turned so he could look at her, bathed in pretty morning orange sunshine. She was almost offensively beautiful. Was it possible to be envious of himself for securing a place at her side?
“Do you think he’ll start walking today?” Din asked.
The kid was officially one, which in itself felt like a miracle. Fenn had never been part of any plan, yet watching him grow and change was one of the most rewarding experiences Din had ever shared with another being. 
The same could be said about Grogu and Winta. He liked seeing them face challenges and conquer fears just as much as he liked the affection and fun he shared with them on a daily basis. 
He’d considered himself a father for almost two years. It was something that still surprised him when he thought about it. 
Omera smiled, a grin that matched his own as they each thought about the baby’s latest attempts at walking. He could stand on his own for a fair amount of time. He could walk if they held him. He just needed the right push and maybe he’d find it in him to let those feet take him somewhere.
“He’s so close.” Her expression softened as she thought of something that worried her. “Is the ship going to be ready for that?”
“I’ll start working on it.”
He’d already somewhat baby-proofed the ship for both Fenn and Grogu, but there would need to be solutions in place to prevent wandering legs from journeying too far out of his and Omera’s purview. 
Omera’s smile grew when their boy called out for them again. “Let’s see if today’s the day.”
She was quick to climb out of bed. Her bedclothes of choice consisted of one of his shirts, just a little too long for her figure. The hem of it brushed the middle of her bare thighs. He watched her carefully pad her way toward the bedroom door, using the same fingers that had soothed his scalp to brush her hair over one shoulder.
In no time at all, he felt the loss of her warmth in their bed, and lounging around felt exactly like that: lounging - with no purpose. So he followed suit, his bare feet at ease on the stone floors while he found a dark shirt to slide over his head. 
He could hear Omera and Fenn before he walked into the nursery. 
The baby was on the changing table and his wife sang a song that detailed the life of a raindrop. She tickled the baby when she was finished and earned every squeal and giggle that filled the air of the new morning.
When she turned to look at him, he was caught standing in the doorway with a permanent grin on his face. There were few things that could make him as happy as the sound of laughter that chorused in harmony with the rising of the sun. 
“Look who it is, Fenn,” she said, gesturing toward him. “Daddy’s up!”
Fenn grinned happily back at him from his spot on Omera’s hip. “Papa!”
“Hi, buddy,” he replied warmly. “How’d you sleep?”
Omera laughed when Fenn reached out hands with fingers that wiggled toward him. She kissed the crown of the baby’s head and then her eyes brightened with an idea. 
“You can see Papa if you can walk over to him.”
At her direction, Din knelt down, just as he did every time they tried to practice Fenn’s first steps. 
The distance between them wasn’t too vast. It was just enough that if he took four steps, he’d end up in Din’s grasp.
Omera held onto Fenn’s hands and encouraged, “Go see Papa, Fenn. You can do it.”
“C’mere, Fenn.” 
He gestured with his hands, hopeful that this might be the moment. It was a new day. The opportunities were endless. 
Omera helped the boy practice two steps before he let go of his own accord and happily put one leg in front of the other. One step taken, he seemed encouraged by his success. 
Din couldn’t help the surprise that burst against his ribcage, swelling up with pride that burned in his eyes and tugged his grin wider.
“Good job! One more. Come here, buddy.”
Fenn wobbled in place, as if he’d realized what he was doing, and then took a strong, brave step forward. Din was there when he finished, scooping him into his arms with a kiss to the side of his head.
“Good job! I knew you could do it, Fenn.”
Omera clapped and cheered, which only spurred the baby to look back at his mother. 
“Go back to Mama,” Din suggested. He turned the toddling child around to face her wholly. “One foot in front of the other.”
He offered his son limited support with his hands before the kid was off like he’d been walking his whole life, his steps more secure this time when he charged toward Omera, who caught him with a happy laugh.
“Oh, good job.” Her voice was warm and proud. “Good job, my love. You did it!” 
She met his eyes and he felt something bittersweet fall over them both. Fenn was growing up so quickly that it almost felt like he’d blink and he’d encounter a new milestone. Already, Din missed the days when he was a newborn and everything felt so fresh.
“Back to Daddy,” Omera whispered to the boy. Her smile of encouragement was spread out to the crinkles beside her eyes. “Go give him a big hug.”
The child crossed the space between them again and was rewarded with a tight hug. Then, he determined he was done and sat down on the floor. 
“We should’ve placed bets,” Omera teased lightly. “That was a lot easier than it seemed yesterday. I guess he was ready.”
He hummed. “He wanted to make today interesting.”
The rest of the wakeup routine went about as expected. Grogu came into the kitchen first and then Winta shortly after, still sleepy but she smiled like sunshine and wrapped her arms around his waist and greeted him first with a, “Hi, Papa,” and it almost sent his heart into orbit.
After breakfast, there were chores, and it was then that Omera sat him down for a haircut. Fenn was within earshot, seated on the floor somewhere behind him so Omera had access should anything go astray. 
She drew her fingers through his hair and carefully cut it down. It was oddly intimate. She had sole control over what he’d look like when she was finished. Her careful and steady hands touched him like she knew what she wanted to do, but she was always gentle and beyond kind.
As she worked, they talked about their plans for the coming weeks. They’d determined that they would give Winta and Grogu more time at school before they took them off on another adventure. As much as he would prefer to take the next step forward, he knew it was for the best to take a downbeat where it came so naturally. 
“I think that’s it,” Omera determined. She smiled softly as she stood in front of him. Her fingers combed through his hair, as if she wanted to test it out again. She seemed quite satisfied by her handiwork. “Handsome.”
Din tilted his head slightly to the side. “Me?”
“Mm.” She leaned in and kissed him chastely. “I think so.” Her perfume filled his nostrils when she stepped away, moving beyond him with a laugh at something he couldn’t see. “Are you trying to walk all by yourself?”
He turned and saw that Fenn had pulled himself up, toy in hand, and extended his arms toward Omera while he carefully toddled in her direction.
“Oh boy,” Din sighed. “You think he takes after me, but I think this is you, too.”
Omera laughed brightly as she turned toward him again with the baby on her hip. “Me? How?”
He smiled softly. “You know what you want. You’re not afraid to go get it.”
“Well…” she said with a teasing tone. She looked at their son for a moment in thought. “I don’t know if that’s all from me. You have a stronger will than I do.”
Din nodded slowly. Fenn snuggled close to Omera and wrapped his arms around her neck as he planted his cheek against her shoulder. 
“If he’s gonna end up like me, then… I hope he’s at least as kind as you are.”
His wife hummed. She touched her lips to Fenn’s head. “He will be a kindhearted warrior, one who will bring peace and goodness everywhere he goes.” 
She spoke the words over their child often, an outpouring of desire in her tone for the future. As terrifying as that future was, to hear her so steadfast in her aspiration for who Fenn would one day be renewed his intent to make it so.
With a content smile, she looked at Din again and added, “As all of our children will be.”
Omera brought Fenn toward him so he’d take the boy so she could finish cleaning up after his haircut. 
“Thank you for the haircut,” he murmured. “Feels better.”
“Good,” she grinned, pleased. “You’re welcome.”
“What do you think I should do with my beard?”
Her teeth grazed her lower lip thoughtfully as she studied his face. “Keep it. I like it this way.”
He smirked. “You do?”
She set her palm against his heart and he hoped she knew the way it immediately twisted in her direction, squeezed tight in her grasp without so much as a word. Her eyes were soft, searching his endlessly while a coy smile inched toward her ears. 
“Yes,” she finally answered in a breathless whisper. 
Her lips touched his briefly and she stepped away, eying him with their baby on his hip. There was desire in the shine of her eyes, but there was also something else he couldn’t quite put a finger on until she spoke up.
“Some people never get to have this,” she said. “I’m very lucky. I have you, and we have Fenn… all of this. It’s a dream.”
Din nodded. “We have a good life.”
Her smile was soft. “Yes. We do.”
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naquey · 5 months
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Star Wars; Purged
Fuck yeah! Chapter two! To be fair, I was going to post this a week after the first chapter, but I'd gotten very distracted. It's not like I didn't already have this written but I completely forgot I was going to post it to tumblr.
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No one noticed the little boy had wandered off until Jaari had looked back to notice that the little girl was just standing there. The twi'lek and the temple guard were preoccupied with the wall and trying to figure out just where that mystery—not real—guy went. Setting the girl in his arms down he knelt to her level. 
"I'm going to go find Beor, please, Fenn stay here with Una and the guard." He ruffled the girl's hair when she stood up. 
"What if clones get you?" There were tears in her eyes, stains down her cheeks that had not yet dried. 
"Don't worry, I got a lightsaber. I can take them on." 
"Don't go-" She tugged on his robes. "I don't want to be alone." She cried. 
"I'm scared if I take you with me, then you'll be in trouble too." Jaari sighed, running a hand through his hair. 
"Please." The girl—Fenn—pleaded with the older boy. 
Looking back at the guard and Una who were still too busy to notice he sighed and gave in. He really didn't want to bring the girl along and have her get taken away or have something even worse happen. There was a conflict in his mind. Take her and keep her safe while looking for Beor or leave her here and risk the other two finding out that he fled and Beor was gone as well. 
"Fine." He chose the more reckless option. 
The girl held onto his robes as they wandered off. At first Jaari thought that the alleyway was a dead end until he could feel the warmth radiating from a certain part in the wall. Poking it for good measure he noticed almost immediately that it was just a tarp covered in mud and water. Lifting up the tarp he gestured for Fenn to go through first. Once through the tarp led to a small hallway that led only where the stars knew. Fenn kept close to Jaari, she wasn't scared, but she wasn't brave either. The hallway opened up to a cantina-like area. Jaari had only ever been to a Cantina once with Master Skywalker, he wondered where the jedi was amongst all of this. The padawan hoped he was safe with Obi-Wan. Scanning over the area in a general sweep with his eyes he didn't see the little boy anywhere. It was dim, but even with the lights on all the way he could tell that Beor was nowhere to be found. Traversing through the crowd of tables he kept his head down and a hand on Fenn's back. 
Despite Coruscant being the planet adoring of Jedi the lower level wasn't exactly favorable too them. Jaari saw that firsthand when he and Anakin first stepped foot into one of these cantinas to chase down someone of importance. All kinds of criminals and scum that gathered in the cantina's down in the lower level would quickly turn a blind eye to someone killing a jedi, or possibly something even worse happening. That was just how it was. There were people who loved and adored the jedi who turned to help at every instance, but others thought they meddled within everything and should just leave well enough alone. 
"You, boy." A gruff alien voice stopped him in his tracks.
Jaari turned around slowly; he had a hand on his lightsaber.
"You were here with Anakin Skywalker, how is he?" The alien didn't seem as mean as he thought they were. 
"Oh—I uhm—I don't know. I haven't seen him in a while." 
"When you do, send him my regards. I really appreciate him fixing up my ship when I was stranded on some outer rim planet." 
Jaari nodded with an awkward smile. The padawan was much too scared to put on a brave face for Fenn. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the temple guard actually helped him feel safest while everything was happening. He was just a teenager, even with a lightsaber there wasn't much he could do against someone trying to kill him. Continuing through the Cantina he noticed an alien wearing a republic flight suit. For a second he wanted to go up and talk to them, find out how to get a ship but then he noticed the temple guard was tracking him and trying to find out how to get his ship. Glancing down at Fenn the little girl was looking straight ahead. Maybe she was thinking the same thing he was.
He followed the blue-skinned alien in the republic flight suit. Keeping his hand on the lightsaber the padawan led the little girl to follow the alien with him. Not only were they looking for Beor but now they might just have a way to get off Coruscant. There was no telling if this alien was hostile or not, but something in his bones told him that following this stranger would lead them right to their lost friend. 
The blonde boy with messily cut hair sat on a stack of crates, absentmindedly swinging his legs back and forth. Looking around the moderately sized ship hanger. A ramp extended to the floor from the opening of the odd medium shaped transport sitting idly. The blue skinned alien came back carrying a few more crates. 
"Good, little guy?" The alien's galactic common was a little choppy. 
"Yeah, do you think you could give me and my friends a ride off planet?" Beor never stopped swinging his legs absentmindedly. 
"How many of your friends?" The dark-haired alien rose a brow. 
"Four. They all came from the Jedi temple with me." 
"Jedi Temple?" There was something in his eyes that Beor couldn't quite understand. He asked. "So, you're a padawan? Pretty powerful?" 
"Not really powerful, I'm still in training." Beor shrugged. 
"Still in training?" The alien set the crate down. It was unknown to Beor just what his idea or plans were.
"Yeah, that's what I just... said—"
Jaari and Fenn were alerted to the sound of a scream. Sil and Una were even alerted too. The women rushed into the cantina to see Jaari and Fenn running down a hallway. Sil opened her mouth to try and stop them, but they ran away before she could, glancing wearily at Una the young Twi'lek shrugged. Jaari and Fenn stopped at the hangar where they assumed they heard the scream. A medium sized transport was docked right there unattended. For a second the young padawan completely forgot that Beor was missing and slowly walked up to the edge of the ramp extended to the floor. 
"Beor!" Fenn grabbed at Jaari's robes, pulling on them. 
She was pointing in a direction worriedly. Sil and Una stopped just at the entrance of the hangar. She saw Jaari and Fenn but didn't see the younger boy anywhere to be seen. Hearing something muffled she ducked behind crates. The blue skinned alien was holding Beor with a gun to his head, looking straight at Jaari and Fenn. He didn't even notice here. 
"How many more are there?!" He shouted at them in galactic common. 
"What do you mean?!" Jaari shouted back. 
"Jedi! How many more?!" 
"It's just us." Jaari lied. He wasn't going to give away the position of Sil and Una. Not if this alien was hostile. 
"You're lying! The kid said four, and I'm going to bring all your heads to my employer!" 
"Sadly, that won't do." Sil jumped out from behind the crates, her staff glowing in the depths of the night. Water sizzling off of the blades. 
"Not so hasty." The alien turned to her, Beor held tightly to him. 
"You can let the kid go; he has nothing to do with this." 
"He's a practicing Jedi! He's worth something!" 
"Let him go!" Una yelled as her own lightsaber was brought down on the man's arm, the one holding the gun. The alien let out a violent scream as he let go of Beor. The boy immediately running to Jaari. 
"Take the ship." Sil ordered the three standing by the transport. 
"But—" Jaari tried to argue. 
"He doesn't know where we're going, no one will believe him anyway." Sil looked down at the alien on the ground, bleeding out of his shoulder. His dismembered arm lying next to him. He was an awfully ugly crier. 
"The Jedi are dead, none survived." She spoke to the kids. 
There was a major problem. People may have been alerted by all the screaming and they were on possibly a time crunch. Jaari and Una ushered the two scarred kids into the ship quickly as Sil rushed behind them. Taking one last glance at the alien he stared back at her. 
"You... Can't run..." He wheezed with shallow breaths. 
Turning into the ship without another word she retracted the ramp. Clipping her lightsaber back to her belt the tips of her fingers brushed against the keys that belonged to the Jedi Temple. For a moment she felt upset, lost, empty but she shook her head clear of those thoughts. Sil had to be strong for the four children their Jedi Master had entrusted her with. Rushing to the pilot room her hands twitched and anxiety ebbed away at her mind. Outside of the occasional flight outside Coruscant she never had personally flew a ship. 
"You don't know how to fly, do you?" Jaari was leaning against the entrance way with his arms crossed. 
"I know how to fly a ship." She lied right through her teeth, and he could tell. 
"I could help." Jaari stepped into the pilot's cabin, taking a seat in the second chair. 
"I thought you disliked me?" Sil rose a brow jokingly. 
"Only slightly." The padawan shrugged. 
"Okay, then what do I do first?" The temple guard asked. 
"Flip those." He pointed above them. "Then press that." He gestured to one of the buttons on the control panel. 
She followed his instructions carefully. The power of the ship sparking to life as she did what he had told her to do. Holding onto the steering she glanced wearily at him. 
"Oh, right." He flipped another switch, and they were soon slowly rising above the hanger. Sil's grip on the steering was rather tight, her knuckles turning white. Was she anxious? Jaari pretended not to notice this. 
Good thing there was no roof.
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forgaeven1 · 1 year
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003, a photoshoot outdoors in the middle of winter. (daiyu & ginny (PLS IGNORE THAT IM ON THE WRONG ACCOUNT TAG ME ON DIONIDAI))
❛ you'd better have gotten a good picture of that one, fenn ! ❜ ginny rattles, not without laughter marring her tone, as she skips down from her broom and manoeuvres the ancient thing into her hands. really, it's ron's old one from his school days, which he hasn't touched in- well, in years, she supposes, since the war, and- and it's nice giving it a bit of a fly. the old thing would've been in the shed gathering dusts anyhow, as ginny had sworn not to touch it for her own short-lived career as gryffindor's seeker and chaser from a dispute she's long forgotten about but still held a vendetta over, and had instead taken charlie's older one as her own.
it's funny now seeing it in her hands — her pride clearly did not matter when ron wasn't around to witness her discarding it. more than that, perhaps it's... simply nostalgia, is all. he'd been so bloody busy nowadays with his auror things, running around with harry, trying to be important. and ginny gets it — she understands — it's for a good cause. dad had said it so, and mum had clearly relayed it over and over again over their kitchen table. perhaps it's naivety, but she'd hoped, after everything, that things would've gone on like it was before. that ron and harry and hermione and neville would be back to school, but they aren't. they wouldn't be.
they have big lives now, and ginny weasley is chasing shadows of their past in an old broom.
she snaps though, quick, looking at daiyu with her ever-charming smile. she'll admit - it's odd finding an acquaintance with someone not of your year, but ginny's beginning to believe that there is a certain affinity to ravenclaws in which she's found herself quite fond of. they're quite an odd bunch, the lot of them. maybe it's the never-ending curiosity. although maybe it works well with her own since she hadn't mind much entertaining whatever that's sprung into their thoughts. she'd always liked what they've got to say. daiyu, included. and this spontaneous photoshoot in the middle of december ? well. no one would ever dare say ginny isn't one up for challenges now, would they ?
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the youngest weasley child grin again, brushing her red hair back, nudging at daiyu's side quite affectionately. ❛ c'mon then. will i see the picture, or what ? ❜
@dionidai — set the scene.
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“Thank you,” he nods, moving into the main room. He looks around for Jango as he comes to a stop, giving his friend a subtle shake of his head. No killing today, with the kid here.
“Mighty Jabba,” he addresses the slug, holding back his sarcasm, “I come to free one of your slaves and take her with me. Her name is Xana. Xana Fenn.”
“What makes you think I want your business, Mandalorian?” Jabba hums, “I already have one. Fett is enough.”
“I offer you my services as well,” Jed shrugs. “Never hurts to have two hunters. And if not, then have all the credits in this pouch.”
He takes a thick pouch off his belt, throwing it into Jabba’s hands.
Jabba hums again in thought, tilting his head. “I accept this offer. Both your credits and your service.” He turns to the guards, “go fetch the slave. Quickly.”
Jed looks down at you with a proud nod as they go to collect her. “Doing okay?” He checks on you.
I nod quickly, grinning and waving at one of the pretty twi’s since she seems to be looking at me.
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juicyspacesecrets · 6 years
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Wait, does Jacen have brass knuckles lightsabers? Cause if so that's pretty metal!
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punch your enemies to death you funky green baby
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dotster001 · 2 years
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Meet the Parents
Summary:Fenn Luxure x gn! Reader. Fenn's dad comes to visit, and Fenn would rather you two not meet.
Cw:mild spoilers for book 3 of the consort path
"I would rather you stay in my room while he is here."
Fenn's dad was coming, and he had sat you down to chat with you about it.
"Why?" You asked. You knew they weren't on good terms, but what did that have to do with you?
"He can be," he paused. "He can be a bit much. I just don't want to have to worry that he'll try to hurt you, Treasure."
Fenn rarely took anything this seriously, and it was making you a bit nervous.
"What if we compromise and I stay in my own room?"
Fenn gave you a flirtatious grin. "But then I wouldn't have the pleasure of your company. And you know I have difficulty sleeping without you to lull me to sleep." 
After much debate, and some mediation from Letty, Fenn relented and agreed you could stay in your own room.
                                     …
You were bored out of your mind. It had been a week since you'd promised Fenn you would stay in your room so that his dad couldn't hurt you. He had assured you that you didn't have to wait much longer.
"My beloved treasure," he was gently stroking your hair as he held you from behind. "He is leaving in two days, and then you and I shall be free to roam the grounds again. I know you are bored, but just trust me okay?"
He had looked at you with the saddest eyes. You'd ask him about that later when he wasn't as clearly stressed as he was now. So you'd assured him everything was alright.
Less than 24 hours later, everything was not alright. You were very bored, and hungry. You decided that you would leave your room, get a snack, and head straight back. What were the odds that you would run into Fenn's dad?
You were on your way back to your room, when you bumped into Fenn. You watched his easy going smile slide off face. He ran up to you with the most panicked expression you'd ever seen on him.
He wrapped you up into his arms and whispered into your ear, "Treasure, why are here? Did something happen?"
Before you could answer him, you heard a rather large crowd of people walking your way. When you looked up, you saw a beautiful man surrounded by men and women who were doing everything in their power to be able to touch even one piece of him.
The man's eyes settled on Fenn, flicked to you, then back to Fenn.
"Ah Fenn, I have seen so little of you on my visit, I was beginning to worry."
Oh. OH! This must be Fenn's dad then. Looking closer at him, he definitely looked like him, just a little older. You felt Fenn stiffen.
"I have just been busy father."
Fenn had never spoken so coldly around you, not even to the people you'd seen him break up with before you both were dating.
The man gave a hmph, and looked at you again.
"You. Come," he said with a serene smile.
"The hell?" You whispered, and you felt Fenn's arms tighten around you. "Why should I…"
"You'll have a much better time with us, lovely."
You laughed dryly, "No, Fenn and I are going back to my room, but thanks for the offer."
"Suit yourself." He seemed unfazed as him and his entourage walked off. 
"God, what a jerk. Couldn't he see we were clearly together?" You were outraged until you noticed that Fenn had buried his face in your neck, and was shaking. "Fenn?"
You heard him heave a heavy sigh. "When I said I thought he would hurt you, that was a lie. I thought he would take my treasure away from me."
Now it was your turn to tighten your grip on him.
"But he didn't, Fenn, I'm still here."
Fenn looked  at you with an innocent smile, eyes filled with such joy it made your heart ache. "Yes you are." He gave a disbelieving laugh. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Treasure."
You grabbed his hand, and led him to your room. You spent the rest of the day in each other's arms, just basking in one another's presence.
You decided today wasn't the day to tell Fenn that you had sworn that if his dad ever hurt him again, you would kill him yourself.
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jessicas-pi · 2 years
Text
So my brain did A Thing, and I miiiight just have like 2k words of plot outline, but i'm also notorious for not finishing stuff, so idk how this is gonna end, but for now...
Between strikes of the hammer and flying sparks, the blacksmith took a moment to puzzle over his apprentice, who was splitting wood in the courtyard.
She was sixteen years old, lean without being waifish, and a perfect enigma. Oh, her story had been simple enough, and most people believed it.
Orphan. Nameless. Left on the poorhouse steps when I was only days old. Can’t read, can’t write. Good at hard work.
But she held herself like a noblewoman, and the thought of taking orders from other people seemed to irritate her. The callouses on her hands were new. She was not world-worn, and he’d seen her eyes skim across lines of lettering with perfect understanding, when she thought he wasn’t watching.
(Oh, and he’d also noticed her eyeing the occasional suit of armor he made. Her keen gaze studied every strike of the hammer, as if memorizing it to duplicate it herself some day.)
It was all that which made him certain—there was no truth to her story.
And therein lay the enigma: if she had been of a noble, or at least high-ranking, family, why would she give it up?
But in the end, Fenn didn’t ask questions. It was her business, not his. And besides, he didn't want to drive her away by being nosy. She was a good blacksmith’s apprentice, devoting herself to all her tasks with enthusiasm, even love.
Well, he thought, jaw twitching with amusement, as the door of the smithy banged open and the uncoordinated footsteps of a schoolboy clattered inside. All her tasks, save one.
----
The clang of metal and the smell of smoke were the first signals that Ezra was nearing the blacksmith's forge.
He rounded the corner of the street in the little market town and the smithy came into view. His pace accelerated to a run.
"Watch it!" someone bellowed as he dodged around their cart, crossing the street diagonally. He looked over his shoulder and waved apologetically. The cart-driver just rolled their eyes at him. Barely slowing in time, he crashed through the doorway of the smithy, pausing to catch his breath before pulling the scrap of paper from his pocket and advancing farther to the back of the forge.
It was hotter than the hottest summer day inside the forge, and the smoky smell was almost suffocating. Ezra pressed the sleeve of his jacket over his face as he entered the main room, glancing around, only to be disappointed.
His expression must have shown, because the blacksmith huffed softly under his breath.
“She’s in the courtyard,” he announced, between strikes of his hammer. “Give her the list.”
“Thank you, Rau!” Ezra called, skipping out the back door.
His eyes scanned the courtyard, looking for the face he'd been waiting all day to see. There, by the far wall, back to him, splitting wood.
Half-raising a hand in a wave, he called out to her.
“Hello, there!”
Her ax swung particularly hard, and the piece of wood split with a crack, the blade of the ax lodging itself deep in the cutting block.
She turned around to face him as he approached, and his heart skittered.
Logically, he knew his fancy for her was silly. She was covered in soot, smelled of smoke and sweat, and her hair clung limply to her face. He'd never once seen her in a dress; rather, her typical uniform seemed to consist of a tunic, breeches, and leather apron with gloves to match, all covered in scorch marks and more than one burn hole or two.
A blacksmith’s apprentice. The forge-girl.
And he thought she was lovely.
His schoolfellows didn't bother to speak to her. When they did notice her, it was either to sneer at the girl who had to work a man’s job to survive, to pity the orphan who lived in a single-room hovel, or occasionally to laugh at the absurdity of whatever new rumor the old coots were spreading about her. But that was rare. Most of them just... didn't know she existed.
Yet there was something about her, some life, some glow, that, after the first day they'd met, kept him coming back.
Well.
No.
That wasn’t completely true.
What kept him coming back was the fact that his parents were tradesmen who had an agreement with the blacksmith to sell his wares for him, and Ezra was the delivery-boy for the daily lists of what they needed.
But she was the reason he didn’t complain about it.
“Here,” he said with a grin that only seemed to make her scowl deeper, holding out the list. “This is what we need.”
The blacksmith’s apprentice snatched it from his hand without a word and turned to bring it inside, grabbing a bucket on her way.
“Forge-girl,” Ezra called out. He had been hoping she would stay a minute or two more, and they could at least talk. Why, he didn't know; she never said more than three words to him at a time.
She kept walking away from him, and he scrambled for something to say. When he did speak, his words came out sounding... ruder than he’d meant them to be.
“Forge-girl! Make sure to bring the things on time tomorrow. Father says you’ve been late the past few days.”
She stopped in her tracks. Her hand clenched on the paper.
“As you wish,” she growled.
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chirp-a-chirp · 2 years
Text
Court of Darkness—Lessons in Love
Setting—Rio and Lynt sitting in the S-Rank lounge. On the table besides them lies a book.
Rio: Should we wait for Fenn to arrive to open it?
Lynt: I don’t know. Maybe someone else can help. Toa?
Toa: *Eyes peer up from a book, mildly annoyed* What?
Rio: What does it mean to make love?
Toa: WHAT?! Creator help me. Why are you asking that question out loud?
Lynt: We heard strange noises from Fenn’s room this morning.
Toa: Sigh. That explains his absence at today’s lecture.
Rio: What does?
Toa: Nevermind.
Rio: When I asked Fenn later if he was alright, he gave this book. Said it would explain love making and the noises. But for us to wait ‘til he arrived to elaborate.
Toa: You cannot possibly be serious Voleri—
Roy: *Enters the lounge, easy smile on his face* Hello everyone.
Lynt: Roy might help us.
Toa: Invidia, don’t.
Roy: *Looks questioningly at Toa* Happy to assist however I can.
Rio: Roy! What’s making love? Is it usually loud?
Roy: *Smile quickly grows uncomfortable* H-Hexes and Heavens Rio. Why are you asking about something so private?!
Lynt: *Frowns in confusion* That’s what Toa said.
Toa: They heard Fenn and his…activities this morning Invidia.
Roy: So that explains Master Fenn’s absence.
Lynt: What does?
Roy: Nevermind.
Rio: So you can’t help Roy?
Roy: There are several books in the library that might be helpful in your search for knowledge—n-not that I have read them, begging your pardon! But…
Roy: If you will excuse me, I hear Sherry calling me. *Bows and quickly starts to leave*
Rio: But Sherry has class right now R—
Roy: *Speaking loudly as he closes the door* COMING SHERRY.
Guy: *Enters room from another door, notices Roy leaving* Where did Roy go? We had business.
Lynt: *Gestures to book on table* Guy, can you explain this book? Toa and Roy won’t.
Toa: Avari—
Guy: Quiet Quelsum. *Smirks smugly at Toa and picks up book*
Guy: *Eyes widen quickly. Suddenly, book bursts into flames*
Rio: Guy! Why’d you do that? Fenn’ll be cross.
Guy: Fenn. *Tsk* You are too innocent for this. *Leaves room without another word*
Moments later, Fenn jaunts in and notices the burnt ashes of the book on the table.
Fenn: Hehe, Someone anticipated me! It was Guy wasn’t it? Luckily, I brought a spare book. *Hands opened book to Rio and Lynt*
Fenn: That’s what you heard dear friends. Page 18…and 19…and 40.
Lynt: Looks tiring. *yawns*
Rio: You were wrestling? Toa, do you—
Toa: I am NOT answering that.
Fenn: Toa doesn’t wrestle with a partner. He—
Toa: I just wanted to read in peace.
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