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stubbychaos · 4 years ago

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Ori Kebiin and Saviin’ika

Chapter 8 of Saviin’ika

Masterlist

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: Paz takes you to the covert after your long day, despite you not being accepted by everyone in the tribe yet. Though you are content to finally be away from a toxic environment, Paz wants his vengeance towards those who have hurt you.

Rating: M

Word Count: 13,000 (I kinda got carried away)

Warnings: Brief mentions of psychological abuse and manipulation, as well as the aftermath of the attempted sexual assault from last chapter. Again, there’s mentions of blood, but not nearly as graphic as the last chapter!

Translations will all be at the end since there’s so many this chapter. I separated the actual dialogue from the typical nicknames and such. The title, however, translates to “Big Blue and Little Violet” :)

You have no idea how you manage the strength to walk on your feet after the day you’ve had, but you think Paz’s hand firmly pressed to the small of your back gives you the motivation to be stronger.

Though the dread still lingers like a dark rain cloud over your frantic heart as Paz leads you to your home to grab a change of clothes, you’re certain that the Mandalorian would not let anything happen to you should your father be awake. His thumb moves in firm little circles against the thick material of his cape that’s shielding your body from any wandering eyes and even though you can’t get the memory of slaying the Trandoshan out of your mind, you feel slightly better now that your warrior had cleaned as much of the blood away from your skin as he possibly could.

Out of sight, but never out of mind, you resentfully realize as you slowly approach the worn down hut you’ve lived in for your entire life and find the thought of living anywhere else strange, but certainly not disheartening in the slightest. Paz gently urges you behind him as he leads you inside the building, his leather-clad fingers firmly wrapped around your wrist and you can’t help but to smile weakly at his diligence and insistence on keeping you safe from anymore danger.

Much to your relief, you hear your father’s snores from the other room, most likely blacked out on alcohol or his drug of choice and you hastily lead Paz into your tiny room, only letting go of his hand so you can sift through the wooden crate where you keep what little clothes and garments you own.

“Cyare,” Paz whispers the nickname, perhaps remembering that your abuser sleeps in the room down the hall; he makes sure to keep his voice down as he gathers some of your toiletries and carefully situates them in a small canvas bag, “Where we are going, it is deep underground--it is much colder--do you have anything warmer to wear?”

You blink and manage to find a large cable knit sweater that you haven’t worn in such a long time, along with a thicker pair of leggings and some clean undergarments; you freeze when the Mandalorian speaks again.

“And something to sleep in?”

Heat floods your cheeks and earlobes and you nervously move to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, growing even more embarrassed when you realize the strands are matted to your neck with blood, “Am I staying the night there?”

You find a thin-sleeved, satin night gown that falls a few inches above your knees and you slowly rise to turn and face Paz, noticing the tension in his shoulders as he stares at you through the safety of his visor. You’ve never once questioned his loyalty to the creed by asking what he looks like underneath the helmet, but you suddenly find yourself jealous that he is able to conceal his features upon feeling nervous or shy. He reaches out to gently stroke your jaw, helmet tilting to the side as you hold your clean clothes tightly to your chest; he is silent as he collects the fabric from your tight hold and places it in the canvas bag.

“You would not be turned away after the day you’ve had,” He reassures you, cupping his hand to the side of your neck, “I am hoping they will let you stay permanently once they meet you.”

Your heart swells and you nod a little, your heart pumping furiously in your chest at the thought of spending the night with him again, let alone the rest of your days.

“Thank you,” You fiddle nervously with your large sweater as he continues to stare at you, “I… I will change now.”

“Then I won’t look,” He hums, sounding slightly amused as he turns his back to you, “Unless you wish for me to see you, little nurse?”

An intense heat spreads throughout your face as you let his cape fall from your shoulders and you begin to remove your boots. You remember the way the Trandoshan’s grimy hands had found the hem of your dress and you drop your head in shame as you peel away your undergarments and replace them with fresh ones. You feel sick and ashamed that it had nearly gotten to the point where he had taken advantage of you and you want to tell Paz exactly what had happened, but the feeling of your attacker’s hands on your torso leaves you feeling raw and vulnerable.

You’re embarrassed.

“I fear you would not like what you would see.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet moves in a jolting gesture, though he makes sure not to completely turn his head towards you and your heart thrums frantically when you realize it must be out of respect for your own wishes. You’re hasty to cover your chest with a clean bralette and you feel as though your cheeks are on fire when you replace your shorts with fresh undergarments and thick leggings, all while keeping your eyes on the back of his helmet.

“You are beautiful, cyare,” Paz softly reminds you, his baritone as low and quiet as his modulator will allow him, “I don’t like seeing you bruised and hurt, but it does not take away from your beauty. I do not think I could go through all of your pain without any armor; it must be difficult to bare your scars for all to see.”

You think it to be the most heartfelt compliment he could give you--informing you that he believes your strength and endurance to be up to his standards--and you smile warmly at the back of his helmet.

“Okay,” You eventually murmur as you tug the large sweater over your head, the cozy fabric fitting you similarly to a short, loose dress, “I’m ready.”

The Mandalorian turns to face you just as you’re grabbing his cape that you had neatly placed on the foot of your bed; his helmet tilts to the side as he watches you hug the material close to your chest. Thinking he doesn’t need the warm fabric yet, you hold onto it tightly as you follow him out your room, tensing a little when you’re met with utter silence, rather than your father’s typical loud snores. Paz must notice it too, because you watch as his hand immediately moves to the blaster sheathed against his hip; your heart pounds wildly in your chest as the two of you make it up the two stairs leading out of the hut.

Before you even realize what’s going on, Paz immediately whips around and draws a blaster within a fraction of a second, carefully pushing you behind him; you’re confused, until you hear a familiar voice that you’re certain will forever haunt you, even if you never see him again.

“Where do you think you’re going, little one?” You tilt your head to the side so you can see your father staggering towards you and Paz, “You decide to fucking not show up to one of your shifts and thought I would be okay with it? Then you bring him here? After everything I told you? Are you really that fucking stupid or do I need to--?”

You snap before the Mandalorian does.

For the third time in the last twenty-four hours--you absolutely snap.

“I have had one of the longest, roughest days of my life, so don’t you dare make me feel bad for not showing up to work or bringing him here!” You step to the side and put yourself in front of Paz, though he still keeps his blaster pointed on the drunk man who poses no real threat to the warrior, “I have been working every day for you for the last decade and never once have you ever thanked me for the time I put in--for all that I have done for you and working for free! You never once thanked me for all the tears and blood I have shed for you at the expense of your own hands and I am exhausted.”

Your father--Maker, does he look stunned by your outburst--and you’re certain that if Paz wasn’t there, he would have struck you the moment you raised your voice, but his eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he regards you. You think of the Trandoshan and the bounty hunter and how both of them had caused you such rage, fear, and desperation and you suddenly find it easier to argue with your only living blood.

You don’t even notice the way Paz tenses behind you when your father staggers forward, nearly tripping over his own feet and you suddenly feel embarrassed for the kind of torment you have let this pathetic man inflict upon you. You’re shaking with the trauma from such a horrific day as you step a little closer to him, speaking through clenched teeth at the man who’s made your life a living hell for as long as you can remember.

After killing the Trandoshan, you think you’re not fazed by anything, let alone your father’s clumsy anger.

“You have put me through so much pain and so much agony--so much torture--Maker, do you have a heart at all? Do you even realize what you’ve done to me? How much you’ve scarred my body and my mind?!” You force yourself not to cry, thinking he doesn’t deserve a single tear from you when he’s stolen so many in your life, “I am supposed to be your daughter, not your slave, and I won’t let you treat me as such anymore!”

Your chest is heaving wildly as he simply stares at you in shock, probably not even aware you were capable of storing such hatred and fury in your tender heart.

"I have never hated anyone as much as I hate you," You seethe, speaking through clenched teeth as you watch the way your words sober him, his back straightening a little "I hope you feel a fraction of the same loneliness and pain you have made me feel after I leave this awful place; I hope it haunts you everyday until you finally die."

Your father’s eyes widen and you’re certain he is shocked at the courage you have somehow obtained within a single day, though it still does not stop him from continuing to berate you

“And what would you do when he grows tired of you?” He sneers, though you simply shake your head, remembering how your warrior had declared his love for you and you force yourself to remember the devotion in his deep baritone, “You think those monsters would actually take you in as one of their own? You think this savage could genuinely love someone like you? Someone so weak and useless? They’ll use you and simply throw you away, just like anyone else would.”

You hear Paz snarl behind you, no doubt shaking with rage and a desire for wrath against your father, but you offer your last living relative a weak smile and nod a little, thinking of everything your warrior has done for you in the last few months and the happiness he’s given you. Perhaps you’re not as naive as you once thought--now so used to the horrors of such a cruel planet--and you’re certain that if this huge warrior insists his love for you, he must not be lying.

“I am not weak nor useless and I now know that,” You insist fiercely, and even though your voice trembles, you feel the words deep down in your bones--in your soul--and you step closer to the man whose unfocused gaze is currently switching between you and Paz frantically, “I am far stronger than you have ever led me to believe and I will not let you tear down me, nor the only man who has ever built me up. Even if I am not accepted, I will find a way to make a life for myself because anywhere is better than this hell.”

His angry expression cracks as soon as he realizes he no longer has any control over your inhibitions or choices and you know what’s about to happen--the manipulative words he’s about to spew.

“Y-You can’t leave me!” He doesn’t sound angry, but more so frantic at the thought of no longer having control over you, and he pleadingly holds out his careless hands, “You are my only family I have left.”

Though you feel a twinge of pain in your heart at how distraught he suddenly sounds, you turn your head to peer at Paz over your shoulder, who now has his blaster lowered. His helmet tilts to the side a little when he sees the conflict etched on your features and you think he must be incredulous that you even have to think about this--choosing between him or your father--but he simply gives you a curt nod and you turn back to your father.

“You said it yourself--” You whisper, backing away from his stumbling form before he can reach you, “You have no daughter, nor do I have a father.”

As soon as you see the look of despair melt into something more intense, something you’re so acclimated with--that anger, that intense fury--you immediately know you’ve made the right choice. Feeling flustered and slightly overwhelmed, you hastily turn around and storm past the usually talkative Mandalorian that has grown deathly silent and still as his Beskar gaze follows your small form that’s still clutching his cape close to your chest.

“Don’t forget that promise, you useless bitch! I’ll make you both fucking suffer,” He spits, instantly making you freeze and though dread crawls up your spine, you slowly turn to find Paz charging towards the much smaller, more feeble man with great furiosity that you’ve never seen from him, “Fucking Manda--”

You watch with wide eyes as your warrior immediately wraps his fingers around your newly estranged father’s neck and you are quick to make your way towards the two men when Paz effortlessly shoves him up against the outside of the hut with enough force to crack the outside of the little building. Your father claws desperately at the hand that has him pinned to the building, his feet an inch or two off the ground and you freeze when you hear the anger and pain in Paz’s modulated voice.

“You are lucky the little nurse has a tender heart and doesn’t wish for me to end your sorry existence, because I would have gladly had your lifeless body at her feet the moment I first saw you mistreat her,” Paz easily inches him higher off the ground, not seeming all too worried about his comfort as he squeezes his hand tighter around the struggling man’s esophagus, “You have caused her enough pain to last a lifetime and I will not watch you hurt her anymore with your words or hands.”

Your father’s mouth is wide open as he gasps and flops wildly like a fish on land when Paz finally drops him and you can tell it’s taking everything out of him to not cause the older man further damage as he wheezes violently at the warrior’s feet. You think you should feel sorry for your father, but instead you feel embarrassed that you have let someone so pathetic and greedy push you around for such a long time.

“He’s going to get tired of you and leave, you ungrateful bitch!” The older man speaks through loud gasps for air, choking and heaving on his own spit, “Everyone always does, you know you’re nothing--”

You should stop Paz--you know you should stop him as he lifts his boot, only to send a mighty kick to your father’s ribs and you hear a loud crack that you are all too familiar with, though you don’t cringe or turn away from it.

You’re far too acquainted with the sound to be disgusted by it and you think it to be painfully ironic that he is now in a position that you’ve been in so many times because of him.

“Useless, huh? Have fun tending your own wounds without her help,” Paz scoffs, listening to the injured man wheeze frantically, biting back whimpers as he clutches his side, “You ever try anything with her or even think about coming for me, I’ll cut your hands off and let someone else in tribe deal with you, hu’tuun. They would not show you the same mercy that I have and I would not mind seeing what kind of pain they would show you.”

You watch with wide eyes as he slowly turns around, tight fists instantly unfurling as he sees your shocked expression, though he is quick to carefully grab your elbow and lead you away from the man who is still gasping for deep breaths of air. The bright glimmer of moonlight kissing his visor as he turns to peer down at you every now and then has you growing curious and slightly worried at the sharp, jittery motions.

“Paz, are you--?”

“I am sorry you had to see me like that,” He makes haste to apologize and you shake your head a little as he leads you further away from your broken home, “I do not want you to think of me as cruel, but the way he speaks to you and treats you… I wanted to kill him, cyare.”

“After today, I don’t think I could ever believe you to be cruel,” You whisper with a light shudder, feeling the way his fingertips immediately slide down the inside of your forearm before they’re weaving through the valleys of your fingers in a firm hold; you think of the Trandoshan and bounty hunter and shake your head again, “I… I have seen what cruel men are capable of and I would never think you to be like them.”

“When we get to the covert, will you tell me what happened to you today--what he did to you?” Paz sounds so restrained and full of anger and sadness as he thinks of someone he’s considered to be a brother hunting you down and hurting you so horrifically, “If it is too hard to speak of it, I won’t push you.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and exhale deeply as he takes you further outside the village, “I do not know if I have the strength to talk about it yet.”

“Okay,” Paz nods sharply, even though you can tell that this is all killing him slowly and he so desperately wants to know what the hell happened, “Okay, cyare.”

You smile softly at him being so understanding of the delicate situation and tiredly press your cheek against his bicep as he leads you to the people that are supposedly excited for your arrival. You think Paz must be exaggerating about his tribe’s eagerness to meet you and there’s a sick feeling growing in your stomach as you think of their bounty hunter and how he was most likely one of the Mandalorians who didn’t want you at the covert.

“Are you okay?” He asks after a few minutes of silence as you both slowly trudge through the village, though you think he only walks slow for you and your injuries, “That couldn’t have been an easy thing for you to stand up to him like that.”

“I… I don’t really know how to feel,” You whisper, your fingers curling tightly around his as you try to gather your thoughts into one cohesive statement to sum up your feelings, “I am sad, but my chest feels lighter. I have never talked back to him like that, but I do not regret what I said.”

“That takes a lot of courage,” Paz consoles with a deep hum, giving your hand a gentle squeeze and as he tilts his helmet a little lower and to the side, you like to picture him smiling down at you--whatever his smile may look like, though you’re certain it must be a kind, warm one, “It takes strength to stand up to someone that has hurt and manipulated you that badly, cyare, and you should feel only pride for acting so bravely.”

You smile and nod a little, knowing that someday you will truly believe his words, but for now you simply remain silent and focus on the firm hold he has on your hand. You hesitate and tense up when he moves to lead you down a dark alleyway that seems to go on for a mile; it’s so dark that you can’t even see where it ends and you move to take a step backwards as you think of the Trandoshan.

“It’s okay,” Paz reassures you, seeming to notice and understand your tension, “It’s… It’s been a long day, I get it, but I won’t let anything else happen to you. You’ve got me, cyare--always.”

You tug your hand out of his and squeeze the crook of his elbow as he leads you into the darkness of the alleyway. Despite not being able to make out anything, you feel how unwavering and sure the warrior is as he easily strides down the alleyway and it’s not until he scoops a thick curtain to the side that he turns on the little flashlight attached to the side of his helmet. You’re surprised to find a small set of stairs that leads down into a dark tunnel and you let him guide the way, trusting him enough to know he’s taking you somewhere safe.

“Careful,” Paz says softly as you slowly make your way down the winding staircase that takes the two of you further underground, “I know how clumsy you can be--or what was it you said when I took you to the hot springs the first time? The only thing graceful about you are your hands?”

You huff and try to shrug off the flirty remark, shaking your head as you carefully trail behind him, "You are not as smooth as you think, Paz."

He turns his helmet to gaze at you, nearly blinding you with the flashlight, all while continuing to descend the staircase and you hear him chuckle, "You’re lucky I am wearing my gloves, I know how hot your ears and cheeks get when you get all shy around me, little nurse.”

“I am sunburned,” You inform him with a scoff as he turns to face forward upon meeting the bottom of the staircase; you unfurl his cape to wrap it around your shoulders as it begins to grow colder, “I think most of my skin is pretty warm right now.”

He hums and you think he’s tense as you wrap both hands around his bicep as you two venture further into the underground tunnels; you remember the heavy weight of the Trandoshan’s body draped over your weak one as the heat from harsh sun rays beat down on you for hours on end. He doesn’t know anything that’s happened to you in the last day and you’re not sure if you should tell him, somewhat fearing for the bounty hunter’s life at the thought of Paz’s anger upon finding out you had been forced to take a life.

That the Trandoshan had touched you--that he’d nearly taken off your dress.

You don’t even realize how hard you’re clinging onto Paz’s bicep, forcing yourself to remember that you hadn’t been violated in such an intense way and that you were currently safe with your Mandalorian.

“We are almost there,” Paz reassures you, though you think it only brings you more anxiety and fear as he calmly leads you to his tribe, not seeming fazed or nervous in the slightest, “You will be loved by them as a little sister, please do not worry. I will take care of the bounty hunter.”

You simply nod as you let him guide you through what feels like endless tunnels and turns and you wonder how he could possibly know his way through such an intense maze of dark stone. You think of all the times he’s made his way through the tunnels just to see you and your heart swells as you glance up at his scuffed up helmet with admiration, thinking that he must see something in you to make such a winding journey so many times.

“Stay behind me, please,” Paz gently orders, responding quietly to your wide-eyed expression after he nudges you behind his big frame, “Just for a minute.”

He turns a corner just as an unfamiliar voice speaks up and you instantly perk up at the sound of a small, innocent voice; they sound younger than you and you’re not sure why, but that brings you great comfort immediately.

“Norac bid nusujii, ori kebiin?” A high-pitched, feminine voice has you feeling curious and despite Paz’s words, you poke your head to gaze past his bicep. Instantly, a forest green helmet with that notorious t-shaped visor whips to the side to stare at you and the smaller Mandalorian is quick to stand up from where she had been perched on a stone ledge next to the large, round entrance leading into the covert. You blink at the scuffed up teal armor that the female Mandalorian dons and you think the sapphire color of her gauntlets to be beautiful and less intimidating compared to the bounty hunter’s armor.

“Cuyir ibic gar orikih baar'ur, ba’vodu Paz?”

You think she must be asking Paz a question by the incline of her tone and he immediately turns to find you gazing intensely at the guard; letting out with a crackly sigh, Paz gives her a single sharp nod, “‘Lek.”

She lets an amused hum slip past her modulator and steps a little closer, “Ni copad at haa'taylir kaysh.”

Paz turns a little to place a big hand on the small of your back, kindly urging you forward and you hear the colorful Mandalorian let out with a small chuckle when you speak quietly in a shy voice, “The colors of your armor are pretty--blue is one of my favorite colors.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.”

You immediately understand the meaning of her playful words when Paz offers her some sort of admonishment in his deep voice, speaking in his native tongue, “Gar liser't chayaikir kaysh guuror ibic.”

“Sorry, sorry,” The woman chuckles a little, helmet cocking to the side as she places a leather hand on her hip, “Thank you for the compliment, though I do not think I have ever heard someone refer to a Mandalorian as being pretty; most people would spit on us the first chance they got,”

She still sounds amused as she props her sharp Beskar staff up against the stone wall, holding out a hand for you to shake; you smile weakly at the greeting and grasp her hand lightly, noticing her firm grip right away. She stands a few inches taller than you and even though she is probably the least intimidating Mandalorian you’ve met so far, you don’t doubt her strength.

“I do not think that those who would choose to spit on you would last very long.”

“Ni guuror kaysh,” The colorful Mandalorian giggles, her head tilting to the side as she peers down at you, “Cuyir gar orikih baar’ur ratiin ibic pel?”

“Elek,” Paz huffs a little and nods, sounding proud as he quickly answers her question, “Yes, ever since the day I first saw her.”

Your cheeks burn at what they could possibly be saying about you, though you don’t wish to cause any disrespect and politely continue to firmly shake the colorful Mandalorian’s hand as she giggles a little louder at his answer.

“I am Imalia,” She finally introduces herself and you’re surprised to actually hear excitement in her smooth, modulated voice as she continues to shake your hand; you’re even more surprised that she would so willingly give you her name, “Everyone calls me Ima though; I am one of the guards that protects the entrance this late at night since we’ve been having more and more close calls with outsiders lately.”

You blink as her leather-clad palm slips from yours and you nervously wring your fingers together, not knowing what to do with your own hands, “My name is--”

“Oh, we all know who you are, vod’ika,” She interrupts with another giggle and confusion fills you when you hear Paz let out with an exasperated sigh; your heart warms when you remember that he had told you ‘vod’ika’ meant little sister, “Our heavy-infantry warrior hasn’t shut up about you since he first saw you--always rambling on about his ‘mesh’la saviin’ika’ and how pretty your flowers are and how kind you are and how he wants riduurok with you someday. We all thought he was making you up until he brought home your flowers one day.”

“Ori Kebiin bal Saviin’ika,” She tilts her head to the side, amused by her own words and you hear Paz groan from behind you, “How cute.”

You grow even shyer at her teasing voice, “What does... that mean? R-Riduurok?”

“Oh, y’know,” Ima says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, flippantly waving a gloved hand around, “When two people agree to--”

“It means Imalia is a teenager who likes to gossip too much and is far too nosy for her own good,” Paz quickly deflects, resting a large hand over the slope of your shoulder and you think he almost sounds stressed out and worried as the colorful Mandalorian shrugs halfheartedly, “Is the armorer at the forge, Mal?”

The way he seems so comfortable speaking with the younger warrior immediately makes you smile softly and you wonder if he’s this way with all the younger Mandalorians.

“I need to speak with her--it’s urgent.”

Imalia tilts her head to the side and you feel small underneath her intimidating gaze, despite the fact that she’s apparently younger than you; she must be inspecting you closely and you suddenly wish you had the opportunity to take a shower before leaving your house. You can still feel all the dried blood matted to your scalp and crusted into your hairline and you’re certain Ima must see it as well.

“Tion'jor an te tal?” Ima questions in a much quieter tone and you flinch severely when her hand moves to touch one of your braids, though she is quick to pull her hand away, turning sharply to gaze up at Paz instead; her voice sounds much graver and sadder when she speaks again, “Vaii cuyir te sarad gar rucuyir cyau'kuyc at dinuir kaysh? Cuyir te baar'ur shupur'yc?”

“It’s a long story,” He says in Basic, something you’re grateful for as the colorful Mandalorian, slowly takes her seat back on the stone ledge, grabbing her long spear once more as Paz continues, “It’s all Djarin’s fault. He came after her because of the vulptex.”

“That damn bounty hunter--no wonder why he was so tense when he came back earlier,” Ima sighs, shaking her head as though this is a common occurrence within the tribe and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, “I’m surprised he’s even alive still; I’m starting to think he has only one brain cell left.”

“Not for much longer,” Paz huffs, fingers twitching against the thick fabric of your long sweater and you let him guide you through the large entrance into another tunnel, “The runt is dead the moment I see his sorry ass.”

The teenager doesn’t seem all the fazed by Paz’s foreboding words, watching as you two venture further into the enclave, “I don’t doubt it.”

You turn your head over your shoulder to catch one last glimpse at Ima’s beautiful green helmet, “It was nice meeting you, Ima.”

“You as well, saviin’ika,” You can hear the smile in her modulated voice, warm and syrupy sweet, and your heart melts at her next words, “I look forward to seeing more of you, rather than hearing it from ori kebiin’s annoying mouth.”

Despite the long day you’ve experienced and everything that’s happened with your father, you smile tiredly at her and face forward as Paz lets out with another annoyed sigh, grumbling something so low that you can’t make it out from underneath his helmet.

He continues straight down the dim tunnel that is barely lit and your eyes widen as he leads you through another rounded entrance that has some sort of huge insignia welded to the top; you think it almost resembles a Mandalorian helmet with horns coming out the side and you make a mental note to ask Paz about it later.

Paz hums thoughtfully as he inspects his surroundings, looking for something--or someone--in particular; you take in your surroundings curiously, detaching yourself from the distracted Mandalorian to make your way over to a little workbench that seems to have discarded scraps of metal. Not wanting to be rude by touching someone else’s belongings, you simply observe all the scuffed and rusted Beskar, though something in particular catches your attention.

You force yourself not to reach out to touch the little pendant that resembles the one welded above the entrance of the forge, though something about the faded purple horns intrigue you more than you’d like to admit

“I thought we agreed not to take in your nurse until we got our bounty hunter’s vote,” A smooth, demure voice instantly startles you and you quickly turn around to come face to face with a Mandalorian who is slowly and surely entering the armory, her gaze fixated on you in an intense manner, “It is not like you to go against my word, Paz. Do you understand that you have put the tribe at risk?”

You eye the thick furs draped along her shoulders, along with the beautiful glimmer of her golden helmet; you think the richness of the gold contrasting against the deep maroon of the rest of her armor is stunning and immediately, you think she must be the leader of the covert. Though she lacks in height, just like you, she makes up for it with a powerful aura of quiet strength and leadership and you immediately admire her.

Though you’re terribly nervous, you’ve never wanted to make such a good first impression with someone and you shakily speak up before Paz can, his helmet jolting to the side to gaze at you with what you’re certain is surprise.

It seems as though you’ve been doing that a lot lately--surprising everyone, including yourself.

“He wanted to wait as well,” You inform her, awkwardly skittering forward when she pulls out a chair for you to sit on, seeming to understand your exhaustion after a long day, “I… I was brought here because of the circumstances of today.”

“And what were the circumstances, little one?” She questions smoothly, her voice like rich velvet through her vocoder as she grabs a small metal mug from a shelf and a teapot that must already be filled with hot water; immediately, Paz starts to speak in an angered tone, but she is quick and calm to interrupt his hasty words as she pours hot water over a bundle of herbs, “I believe I asked your nurse, warrior, not you.”

“Thank you,” You whisper your gratitude when she makes her way back to you and kindly places a steaming mug filled with something that smells simultaneously sweet and spicy, “I haven’t had a warm drink in a while.”

“I know,” She informs you and your eyes widen in fear at the thought of Paz telling everyone in the covert about your father; anger fills you just for the tiniest moment before the armorer is squashing your worries like a bug beneath her boot, “I know only of what our heavy-infantry warrior has informed us about you, though he has spoken nothing of your personal life or family. It is unfortunate that you do not wear our helmet, little nurse, for it is quite easy to read the pain and suffering in your eyes. You may be younger than I, but you have lived a lifetime already, have you not?”

Your nostrils flare as you struggle to swallow the lump in your throat when you realize the wisdom this woman possesses, “I have felt enough pity for one lifetime as well, I do not wish to feel it anymore from myself or anyone else.”

She glances up at Paz, who has his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you closely, before her gaze is once again fixated on you taking a tentative sip of the flavorful tea; she cocks her head to the side, as if intrigued, and you hope that you are making a decent impression, “Very well. Tell me of the circumstances that have led you here today, little one.”

So, you do.

Paz pulls up a tiny chair that creaks underneath his weight and sits off to the side as you reluctantly relay the story of you and the bounty hunter--how you had willingly taken that blaster shot to save your vulptex, how you had been forced to cauterize your wound, how many times you tried to mention Paz’s name, though the hunter refused to listen. You think it’s taking everything out of Paz to not immediately go searching for his fellow Mandalorian, but he remains seated, his visor fixed on you and his fingers curled into tight fists atop his armored thighs.

As soon as you mention the speeder and the barren lands, you see Paz straightening up, his breath hitching in his throat as you speak of the deal with the Trandoshan and how the bounty hunter hadn’t hesitated to trade you in for a pouch of credits.

How you had begged the hunter not to hand you over because the Trandoshan only held cruel intentions towards you.

Somehow, you manage not to cry the entire time, but as soon as you speak of the vibroblade Paz had given you--how you were barely able to keep a good grip on the handle because of how bloody your hand was--tears spring to your eyes. You squeeze the hot mug between your hands firmly, trying your hardest to take comfort in the warmth it brings your cold body.

Against your better judgment, you decide to leave the Trandoshan’s intentions as far away from the story as you possibly can, not wanting to inform Paz of how close he’d been to slipping his hands underneath your dress.

You know that would be the one detail of your story that would leave him completely unhinged.

You squeeze your eyes shut just as you maneuver around the painful topic, “Throat wounds are usually the most deadly and I… I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off of me and I had to take his life. I cannot stop thinking of the noises he made when I--and he was choking on his own blood and it got all over me and I never had to--”

“Ner cyare,” Paz’s voice sounds thick with emotion as you stare down at your lap in shame, not noticing the way the armorer is still gazing intensely at you, “I didn’t know you had to... Maker, that’s where all the blood came from?”

“You did what you must to survive in such a cruel place,” The armorer seems to have better words to say than Paz and you think he must be caught in an intense war of anger towards his brother or sadness because you had lost a piece of yourself, “Though I can only imagine the turmoil one so innocent would be going through after experiencing something so traumatic. Please, continue if you can.”

You’re not sure how you manage to speak with how shaky you’ve become, but surrounded by two powerful warriors, you want to be stronger, “I-I immediately went into shock because there was so much blood--Maker, there was so much blood--and I just froze and he fell forward on top of me. I was too weak at the moment to push him off and I passed out in the sun. When I woke up hours later, my skin was burning but I was able to get the Trandoshan off of me finally.”

You find it difficult to look at either one of them, so your gaze flickers up to the little horns on the armorer’s helmet as you take another sip of tea before continuing, “I… I passed out again; I don’t know why I was so tired, but when I woke up again, it was night time and the bounty hunter had come back for me and was taking Paz’s blade from my hand. He asked me who I got the weapon from and as soon as I said Paz, I could tell he regretted everything.”

The armorer speaks after Paz lets out an infuriated growl, standing up to his most intimidating size, though the female Mandalorian feels no sort of fear as she speaks only to you, “And do you truly feel as though our bounty hunter felt sorry for what he did to you?”

You sit up a little straighter and stare right into her visor, thinking hard about your response before answering out loud, though you can tell Paz is seething and vibrating with rage.

“I think he felt sorry for hurting someone who was precious to Paz, but not that I was protecting something I considered dear to me,” You inform her in an earnest, hushed tone, making her cock her helmet to the side a little, “I think he was just a man doing his job as a bounty hunter, but he was also cruel to me. When I tried to tell him that I knew Paz, he would make me be quiet and told me that whatever I had to say did not matter.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly brush away the tears at your lashes as you continue, “He almost made me believe the stories that my parents used to tell me of Mandalorians, but I know Paz enough to know the stories aren’t true. I’ve only known Imalia--Ima--for a few minutes, but she treated me kindly and I do not wish to believe that everyone in your tribe could be so cruel, especially when you and her have shown me respect.”

“And how have I shown you respect when all I’ve done is given you the opportunity to tell me your story, little one?”

“I think that is one of the kindest ways you can treat another--to allow them to speak up for themselves without judging them,” Warmth spreads through your cheeks and ears as you take another sip of your sweet, spicy tea and you gaze shyly at the armorer, “I know my voice shakes when I am scared or angry and that I cry more than I probably should, but you and Paz and even Ima have shown me more respect than anyone else I’ve met in the last decade. Even if I was not accepted, I am grateful to see that love and kindness has lived underneath this cruel village for so long.”

The armorer stares at you in an unwavering manner and you fear the worst when she slowly turns her helmet to gaze up at Paz, who’s still staring intently at you, and she almost sounds amused as she turns to you once again, “It seems as though our heavy-infantry warrior was correct when he informed us all that it is impossible to dislike you.”

“I only wish to treat others the same way I would like to be treated,” You smile at the thought of your grouchy Mandalorian giving you such high praise about you to his family and you curl your fingers against your knees, “I apologize that this is the way I was introduced to you--all bloody and still shaken up.”

Her head tilts to the side in a curious manner, “Our tribe’s bounty hunter was careless and hurt you, yet you are the one apologizing?”

“It was my fault for--”

“Do not feel sorry or at fault for this, cyare,” Paz insists and you finally look up at him as he speaks through clenched teeth, “Where is Djarin, ner alor? I will have him begging for forgiveness at her feet the second I see him--I want him to suffer for what he did to her!”

The armorer lets out with a tired sigh and she shakes her helmet a little as you timidly finish off your tea, watching the altercation take place over the rim of your mug, “Our bounty hunter is currently asleep in his quarters, just as you two should be.”

Paz refuses to back down and you fear that he’s actually going to kill his fellow Mandalorian as his deep baritone grows louder and more infuriated, “I want to kill him, I don’t care that he is currently resting. He is a coward and--”

“Your little healer is exhausted and afraid,” The armorer reminds him firmly, standing up to her full height and you realize her true power when Paz recoils a little, “She is in a new place, surrounded by people she has never met and it has been a long day for her. Would you be so cruel and selfish to deny her relaxation after witnessing such trauma? The nurse is about to fall out of her chair, and yet you only wish to seek violence when she has already seen too much of it in her lifetime.”

“I didn’t--” Paz’s helmet jolts a little as he gazes intensely at you, though you offer him a weak, tired smile, “I am sorry, ner cyare, I was not thinking properly.”

“It’s okay,” You shake your head a little as you slowly stand, your hand traveling to the cauterized wound at your hip; and Paz is instantly at your side when you keel over a little bit in pain, “Although it would be nice to um, to maybe get all of this blood out of my hair?”

“Negotiations for the nurse’s future with the tribe will continue tomorrow,” The armorer stands tall, somehow exuding more power and grace than your blue warrior, “In the meantime, she will recover and rest for as long as she requires.”

“Th-Thank you,” Paz gently presses his hand to the small of your back as you offer your gratitude to the tribe’s matriarch, “For everything.”

She simply offers you a curt nod and watches as Paz dutifully takes you to his private quarters.

The enclave is a lot quieter than you would have expected and you think they must have some sort of system when it comes to training and sleeping; you have so many questions, but you don’t want to sound too nosy, so you remain silent during the small journey. Your eyelids feel incredibly heavy as he quietly guides you and you pray the Mandalorian doesn’t think too differently after hearing your story--that he doesn’t see you to be any less of yourself for being forced to steal someone’s life.

He’s still tense as he wraps an arm around your waist to help you descend another staircase leading even deeper into the enclave and you hate that you are a part of the reason why he’s so angry and upset. You hate his moody silence, knowing that he’s normally so talkative with you and could probably carry a conversation with himself if it meant you had his full interest.

Tiredly, you make it your own little mission to distract him from his inner turmoil and gently grab his yellow gauntlet once the two of you make it to the bottom of the staircase. His helmet jolts to the side to gaze down at you as you hold his forearm to your stomach, your fingers barely grazing the slim barrel attached to the top of his gauntlet.

You smile up at his visor, whispering out a meek little, ‘I love you.’

Instantly, he stops walking to lean down to press his forehead against yours and warmth settles over your heart similarly to the way his cape around your cold frame brings you comfort and security.

Immediately, he relaxes his tense muscles and lets out a deep sigh, “I love you too, cyare.”

You observe your dark surroundings closely as he leads you past what seems to be several different alcoves that you assume must be the living quarters for other Mandalorians, the entrances to them covered by thick black fabric. You’re surprised when he guides you past them and around a corner where there’s a stone door straight at the end of the corridor; you wonder if he has a bigger room than everyone else because of his status or ranking within the tribe, though you think it rude to ask and simply follow him into his dimly lit quarters.

You’re surprised to find that it’s far bigger than your little hut and you take in all the new surroundings with curiosity.

You keep your hands clasped tightly together, feeling awkward as you watch the warrior calmly make his way to a huge chest on the floor at the foot of his massive bed, seeming utterly relaxed as he begins to remove his big gauntlets and black gloves. placing them inside the large chest. You almost think he’s forgotten about you until he stands up again and purposely wanders back to you, immediately intertwining his fingers through yours and giving your hand a gentle tug.

“You must be dying for a shower,” He sighs softly, leading you further into his private quarters and through a small alcove protected by black drapes; your cheeks burn hotter than coals when you think of how easy it would be for him to easily invade your privacy, though you know him to be a respectful man, “The water doesn’t always get the warmest, but I’m sure it will be nicer than whatever you had at your home.”

You perk up when you see the big shower and dozens of little holes in the ceiling where the water must fall from, “We had a sonic shower at the infirmary. I’ve never used a real one with actual water.”

The blue warrior stares at you for a few moments before shaking his head a little; he digs through your small canvas bag, pulling out the jars that contain your hair products, as well as your bar of soap. You watch with curiosity as he opens the glass door the shower and places your stuff on a small shelf next to his own belongings and it finally hits you that you are actually at his covert with him and not your measly little hut with a man who hates you.

Paz twists a metal knob a few times around, causing a soft whirring noise, followed by fat droplets of water to fall from the holes in the ceiling and your eyes widen a little at the sight.

“Take as long as you want,” He gently orders in a cool rasp, stroking your bruised cheek with the utmost care and immediately, you turn your head to kiss his palm, earning you a little sigh from him, “I’ll go get some food for you while you shower.”

He turns to leave you alone, but your curiosity gets the better of you and you awkwardly speak up in his native tongue, “Ori kebiin--”

Immediately, the Mandalorian freezes, his back facing you as you speak the strange words that the guard had spoken earlier, “That’s what Ima said, right? I know you told me that saviin’ika means violet and I heard her say that, but what does ori kebiin mean? Is it your title in the tribe?”

“I--It’s just--” Paz seems to hesitate for a few moments before you hear him let out with a frustrated groan, “It is what many of the younger ones in the tribe refer to me as; it means big blue. When I told you that saviin’ika only meant violet, I lied to you, cyare. Saviin means violet, but ‘ika means little.”

“Big blue and little violet?” You murmur, cheeks burning more intensely than any severe sunburn could possibly inflict on you as the warmth spreads to the tip of your ears, “That’s what she was so--”

“It’s nothing,” He huffs a little and rolls his head a little, the joints in his neck cracking from the tension that comes with a long day, "The younger ones in the tribe keep teasing me about you because they know they can get away with it."

You nod and quietly ask him one last question before he can leave, "Where is my vulptex? You said she was here, right?"

Paz chuckles a little as you frantically voice your concerns aloud, now that the two of you are safe and alone, "She is most likely in the nursery with the little ones. She has been fed and taken care of all day, cyare, please do not worry about anyone other than yourself right now. I’ll be out there if you need anything, just call if you need help."

You smile and give him one last 'thank you’ as he leaves you to wash yourself. Slowly and tiredly, you peel your clothes from your bruised and bloodied body and excitedly make your way into the shower.

A gasp nearly leaves you upon feeling the warm water gently pelt against your skin and you smile a little as you tilt your head backwards and let the water loosen the dried blood from your hair. A content sigh escapes you as you remove your metal cuffs from the tails of your braids and you place them on a little stone shelf next to yours’ and Paz's toiletries before getting to work on gently washing your mane, taking your time to make sure all the blood is removed.

You do everything in your power to not pay attention to the pink swirl of water that runs around the big drain in daunting circles.

Instead, you focus on the scent of your comforting floral shampoo or the spicy, woodsy scent of your warrior’s toiletries as you curiously bring the bar of soap to your nose to smell it.

You're not sure how long you're under the warm spray of water, your eyelids threatening to slip shut, but eventually, you're finally clean and ridden of any proof that you've stolen a life. Reluctantly, you shut the water off and step out onto a furry mat, grabbing a towel that's neatly folded next to your canvas bag. As you dry yourself, making sure not to jostle your injured hip too much, you realize just how much better you already feel now that you're clean.

It’s only once you’ve put on your nightgown that you risk a glance at the little mirror that hangs above the sink and immediately freeze. You look exhausted, you realize as you stare at your wide-eyed expression with sadness and defeat, your eyes filled with the same kind of intense emotion that would be in a young warrior’s eyes upon coming back from war. Hastily, you turn your attention to your hair, carefully combing out all the knots with the comb that Paz had dutifully tucked into the canvas bag for you.

When you brush through your hair for what must be the hundredth time, you realize you’re only delaying the inevitable--him seeing your arms and the rest of your body so exposed in your nightgown, along with all the scars and welts displayed across parts of your arms and shoulders that he’s never seen before.

‘He is a warrior,’ You remind yourself fiercely, nervously tucking a wet lock of hair behind the curve of your ear as you muster up the courage to sweep the thick curtain to the side, ‘He is used to scars and he’s told you countless times that he doesn’t mind them.’

Your nerves are at an all time high as you spot your Mandalorian in the tiny kitchenette in his private quarters, setting a wooden bowl down onto the table and you tiredly smile as he places a small spoon next to it.

“Thank you for letting me use your shower.”

Paz turns around and freezes upon meeting your gaze with his black visor; you can feel water dripping onto the thin satin material of your dress, as well as down your neck and you blink with curiosity as he remains glued to his spot in front of the little table that you realize is next to a stone furnace. He’s holding a bowl with steam dancing along the surface and your mouth instinctively waters when you catch a whiff of all the spices and unfamiliar scents of the savory meal. Behind him, you see a small piece of bread and another bowl filled with vibrant fresh fruit and you feel your heart clench at the mere thought of eating something sweet.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me for everything,” He kindly informs you, pulling out a chair as an invitation to sit down as he sets the bowl on the table, “It is... nice to see you looking more like your normal self already.”

You smile warmly at him and take a seat as the Mandalorian begins to disarm his heavy weapons and equipment, placing them in a safe spot near his massive bed where they are readily accessible, should danger dare threaten him. You nervously fiddle with the wet ends of your clean hair as your knee bounces frantically, watching him as he begins to slowly remove his armor, starting with his pauldrons as he carefully places them in that large chest at the foot of his bed.

His helmet turns and he immediately notices your hesitation to eat the food he’s laid out for you, “You... You can help yourself, cyare. I have already eaten and I can tell you’re hungry.”

You politely murmur a quiet ‘thank you’, not noticing the way his shoulders drop a little as you finally pick up the spoon to eat, your stomach growling more intensely than a rabid beast. Tucking a leg underneath yourself, you tentatively blow on the steaming spoonful of delicious looking stew before bringing it to your mouth and before you can fully register all the different spices, your taste buds explode.

Paz nearly chuckles upon watching your eyes slowly close as you experience all the different flavors for the first time, “I’m going to shower while you eat.”

“Mhm,” You simply hum, barely aware of him shaking his head in an amused manner as you practically ignore him, focusing only on the well-seasoned stew as he makes his way to the refresher.

You’re slightly sad when your spoon inevitably scrapes the bottom of the wooden dish, but excitement fills you when you remember the bowl of fruit that had been left for you. The berry you pick up is a deep shade of purple and covered in white streaks and you slowly let it slip between your lips, your shoulders falling when you bite into the berry, causing tart juice to explode in your mouth.

You’re not sure how long you must be savoring the fruit for, but eventually, your Mandalorian exits the refresher, completely ridden of all the padding and armor and his visor instantly seeks you out; you’re in the process of licking juice off your finger when your eyes dart upwards to find him standing only a few feet away from you.

Immediately you freeze, eyes wide as he walks around with his scarred torso completely bared to you, his black sleep pants slung low on his hips and you find it nearly impossible to look away from the rich brown skin that he’s choosing to expose to you for the first time. The muscles of his shoulders and arms are more defined than his soft chest and stomach and you think he must carry most of his strength in those powerful arms, what with being his tribe’s heavy-infantry warrior.

You’re grateful that he’s not touching your cheeks or ears, that way he can’t truly tell how flustered you are. Instead, he dutifully retrieves an extra fur that’s folded in one of the drawers off to the side, only turning to meet your gaze once he’s done covering his mattress in the warm material.

He must take your wide-eyed expression the wrong way, because he almost sounds afraid when he quietly speaks up, “What? You do not wish to see me like this? Are you uncomfortable?”

Immediately, you abandon your fruit and stand up to approach him, “I think you are beautiful, Paz.”

He scoffs a little, but accepts a warm embrace from you as you rest your cheek against his sternum and hook your arms underneath his armpits so you can lay your hands atop his defined shoulder blades. Instantly, his arms are wrapped tightly around your own shoulders and he holds you close to his warm chest where you can feel his heart thumping against your ear like a beacon of power and strength.

“That is my line,” He murmurs, and your lips stretch into a tired smile against his soft skin, the dark curls loosely splayed along his chest are coarse as they tickle your cheek, though you don’t mind at all, “Besides, I thought you once said you would not dare to feed my ego anymore than you already have.”

You close your eyes, taking comfort in the deep rumbling of his chest and voice as you feel his heart thrum powerfully and frantically against your eardrum, “Something makes me think your ego is not as massive as I once thought it to be.”

He scoffs, but simply holds you close to him and you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt such comforting skin on skin contact like this; his huge arms simultaneously acting as a heater and a shield. He hums when you let out a relieved sigh, your warm breath fanning across his sternum as he shivers a little and brings a hand up to gently rub the back of your head, not caring that your hair is still dripping wet and getting onto his own chest.

“Sweetheart,” His chest rumbles as he speaks and your eyes flicker up to meet his visor, “We are both exhausted, it is time for us to rest, I think. Besides, I would much rather hold you like this in my bed.”

You smile and nod a little, watching as he stands tall and moves to turn off all the lights in the dim room. Hesitantly, you make your way underneath the thick furs that are draped on top of the mattress and as you let your head rest on top of a soft pillow, you fear that you will simply sink right through it, as you’ve never rested on something so pliable. Once it’s pitch black in the room and you feel the weight of his warm body dipping in the mattress next to you, you turn over onto your side to face him, despite not being able to see him in the slightest.

Immediately, your mind goes into overdrive as you think of what you’re supposed to do--what he expects from you--and you nearly jump when you feel the gentle weight of his palm carefully resting on top of your sunburnt cheek, his thumb tenderly stroking the tail of your brow. You’re not sure if you should move closer to him or what you should do with your hands as he moves the tiniest bit closer to you. Thinking of the Trandoshan and how you'd been pinned underneath his lifeless body for so long, you suddenly crave to feel his heartbeat and you scoot closer to the man that feels more like a furnace.

He doesn't say a word as he moves so he's on his back and lifts a big arm above his head, patiently waiting as you find a comfortable position to rest your head. Finally, after a few awkward seconds of the two of you fumbling around in the dark, your head finds its home on his chest, your cheek pressed against a thick, raised scar and you close your eyes with a soft smile. His arm comes down from above his head to hold you closer to him, his other hand moving to continue its previous ministrations on your cheeks and lips as you rest your palm above his heart.

You’re half asleep when you feel a crooked finger press up against the underside of your jaw, guiding your head upwards slightly and you gasp when you feel something warm and plush kiss the top of your hair.

You’re utterly unfamiliar with the sensation of being kissed, but when you feel the same pressure against your forehead, followed by an unmodulated sigh and warm breath fanning across your face, you realize the warrior has broken part of his sacred code.

He took his helmet off for you.

“P-Paz, you--” Your voice trembles and you feel his lips quirk into a smile against the brow he’s currently kissing before he moves to the bridge of your nose, “Your helmet!”

“What about it, sweetheart?”

You feel at a loss for words at the sound of his unfiltered voice and he lets out with a small chuckle at your intense reaction, humming softly against your skin as he squeezes you a little tighter.

“Can you see my face?” He questions softly against the apple of your cheek, and you shiver at the sound of his smooth baritone in the raw; when you answer him with a weak little ‘no’, he continues with amusement evident in his unfiltered voice, “Then I have not brought dishonor to my tribe or you.”

“Are you sure?”

He huffs out a small chuckle against the tip of your nose and you smile at how different his laughter sounds without his helmet--much lighter and less crackly--and you cling onto his warm voice as he firmly rubs the stress away from your shoulders and cradles your jaw with his other hand. After being handled so roughly and grossly by the Trandoshan, his tender hands fill your aching heart with love and relief; your eyelids slowly slip shut when you feel him move his torso a little off the bed so he can kiss your chin.

“I am positive, sweet nurse.”

Shyly, you lift your hand from his chest and rest it on the side of his neck as he lightly nuzzles his nose into the damp hair that’s just a little above the tip of your ear, seeming to feel no shame as he inhales the scent of your shampoo and conditioner.

You shiver when he presses another kiss into your hair and you speak up as your hand slowly inches up his neck, feeling all the little scars and veins that are prominent, along with the way his Adam’s apple shifts up and down when you graze past it, “Am I allowed to touch your face?”

He hums and moves his head to kiss all the areas on your face that he previously missed--the corners of your eyes, the spot between your brows, as well as the sides of your nose--but he ultimately decides to venture to the corner of your lips, “You may do whatever you wish to me.”

Your face grows hot as he captures your earlobe between his thumb and index finger, a large grin spreading across his lips when he feels the intense warmth on the pad of his fingers, and you shyly continue your ascent up to his face. The first thing you feel is a coarse beard and you nearly jump away from him when the wiry hair tickles and scratches against your sensitive palms; it feels neatly trimmed, cropped just a few inches underneath his smooth cheekbones and you think he must take great care to not slack with his daily hygiene or grooming.

Before you can make it to his nose, the massive warrior sighs against the corner of your lips and speaks in the most wistful tone you think you’ve ever heard--

“May I kiss you properly now, cyare?”

You freeze, completely caught off guard by his words as you hesitantly lift your head from his chest, aiming your gaze in the direction where you think his eyes must be as he reluctantly drops his head back against the pillow. His fingers tense along your sore shoulder blade and you fear that he must feel that he’s done something wrong because of your hesitation, but as you manage to turn and move until your chest is pressed against his, you shyly explore his plump lips with your fingertips.

Curiosity gets the better of you at the thought of exploring his lips with yours and you lower your head and use your hands to guide your lips to his in the darkness of his room.

Immediately, you soften against him, your palms cradling his scratchy cheeks as you shyly kiss him and you're surprised at how warm and soft his lips are against yours.

You can’t help but to grin a little at the deep groan he lets out when he seems to realize that you’re actually kissing him.

Tilting your head a little to the side, you find it easier to kiss him the way you wish and you feel Paz completely relax underneath the tiny weight of your body as you fully press your lips against his, the side of your nose lightly bumping against his. You can smell the minty scent of his own shampoo mixed with the woodsiness of his body wash and you think it intoxicates you as he reaches up to cup the back of your head to keep you from straying too far from his tender lips.

A small whimper escapes you when his teeth graze your bottom lip and you feel lighter and bereft of all thought when you reluctantly pull away from each other, feeling like a night sky without her moon and you can’t stop yourself from stealing another kiss, earning another soft noise from the surprised man.

Your heart pounds a little faster when you feel his hand dip down to your waist to carefully hike you further up his body so he doesn’t have to lift his head as much and you smile as you bring your hands up to cup his scruffy cheeks; as your thumbs graze his cheekbones, you’re delighted to find that they are just as warm as your own. You’re practically laying on top of him, though he doesn’t seem to mind the weight of your body in the slightest as he holds you close to him.

Paz makes a small humming noise as he gently rubs a large hand up and down your back, continuing to kiss the corners of your lips and cheeks with fervor even when you pull away for air; you close your eyes in bliss, unfamiliar with the affection, but also basking in his warmth--his love.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”

He whispers the unfamiliar words several times against your warm skin and you think he must be telling you the sweetest words, what with how quiet and soft he’s grown underneath you and your curiosity immediately gets the better of you.

“What does that mean?”

“In Mando’a, it means ‘I hold you in my heart forever’,” He explains, teeth grazing your sensitive jawline before moving upwards to steal another kiss from your grinning lips, “It is our way of telling another that we love them.”

You think it sounds far more beautiful than those other simple three words but you let the warrior kiss your lips as many times as he wishes, thinking that perhaps he’s never been this intimate with another. Also because you’ve never been showered with such affection and you think receiving it from Paz is one of the most beautiful phenomenons you’ve ever experienced.

"Your lips still taste like fruit," He informs you as his lips graze your jawline before moving to your ear, "I wonder if the rest of you tastes so sweet."

The gruffness of his tone combined with the way his teeth gently nip at your lobe has you feeling as though you're going to pass out or spontaneously combust. Shyly, you tuck your head firmly underneath his chin, your sunburned cheeks feeling even hotter as the warrior's chest rumbles with a deep laugh.

“I think you only wished to have me here so you can torment me,” You whisper against his bare neck, earning another chuckle from your Mandalorian as he continues to rub your spine in a comforting manner, “I don’t think I mind this kind of torment though. I would not mind having this every night, if you and your people were so kind to allow it.”

“They will,” He murmurs, squeezing you tighter to him, “Please, cyare, rest your eyes. You have had a long day, but you are safe with me now.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and contentment as your eyelids slowly slip shut, exhaustion overtaking your body as he continues to gently press tender kisses to your cheeks and brows until you fall into a strange sleep where you can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. You have nightmares of the Trandoshan’s body pinned against yours, as well as sweet dreams of spending the rest of your days underneath such tender care of your Mandalorian.

You’re in a strange limbo of intense nightmares and delightful dreams, but Paz seems to wake up whenever you whimper or let out with a small cry, reminding you in a hushed whisper that you are somewhere safe with him, rather than the infirmary or your hut. It’s not until you feel him stroking the tail of your brow that you fully fall into a peaceful sleep with visions of blue Beskar and strong arms.

You barely wake up with a quiet whimper hours later when you feel him lightly shuffling your body off of his before speaking in a soft, raspy whisper, “I must leave now for negotiations, cyare. You stay here and rest, okay? I shouldn’t be too long.”

“M’kay,” You blearily hum, nuzzling your face into the pillow that smells like Paz and you’re only slightly aware of the way he gives you one last kiss against your brow before he leaves you to put his armor and helmet on and begin his duties for the day.

You don’t sleep for too much longer, finding that Paz has taken all the warmth with him, even with the plush, thick fur that covers your body. You stare up at the ceiling for a few until you hear the covert slowly come alive, metal scraping against metal and loud shouts in an alien language followed by ringing laughter. Feeling slightly lazy and useless, you decisively get out of the comfortable, massive bed and make your way into the refresher, preparing yourself for what you think might be a long, strange day.

It feels bizarre seeing your hair without its flowers and a part of you wonders if Paz still has the flowers you gave him; perhaps you would still be able to plant them and grow some more, you ponder hopefully.

After you finish your typical morning routine, choosing to leave your hair without your usual braids, you throw on your leggings and sweater before cautiously poking your head out the door. You’re surprised to find the corridor empty and slowly leave Paz’s quarters, despite his insistence on you resting.

Curiosity has you nervously wringing your hands together as you make it to the staircase that Paz had led you down the previous night, and you jump a little upon hearing loud cheering and the shrill sound of metal clanging and scraping against each other. After finally making it up the stairs, you tentatively head in the direction that the ruckus is coming from.

It’s not until you hear Paz’s infuriated baritone of a voice that you make haste to the armory, barely remembering how to get there. Eventually, you round a corner and nearly freeze upon seeing several armored Mandalorians surrounding what appears to be some sort of altercation in front of the forge and you immediately sigh when you see a blue helmet right in the center of it.

You spot Ima, who seems to stand out from the others with her bright armor and you perk up a little as you approach her.

“Ima,” You say her name just loud enough for her to hear over the a loud shriek of metal being scraped, successfully gaining her attention as she turns to face you, “What’s going on?”

“See for yourself,” She sounds slightly amused and you allow her to place a hand on your shoulder, urging you between her and another huge Mandalorian that barely cocks his helmet to look down at you, “Your ori kebiin verd is fighting for your honor, though I don’t think Djarin is putting up much of a fight.”

You gasp upon seeing the bounty hunter from the previous day crumbled to the ground on his knees, Paz’s hand curled into the thick material of his cowl to hold him up properly.

“How many credits did you deem her life worthy of?!” Paz roars and you instantly freeze, thinking you’ve never heard him this infuriated, even towards your father, “Tell me you fucking hu’tuun! Tell me how many credits you were given in exchange for an innocent, precious life!”

“Five hundred,” The bounty hunter rasps, sounding weak and terribly injured underneath all the Beskar and your instincts have you stepping forward, though Ima is quick to ground you in place with a hand on your shoulder; she simply shakes her head when you peer up at her.

“Five--you gave her away for five hundred credits?!” You feel frozen as Paz forces him to his feet and drags him over to the forge that is now activated, “You only did it because you thought she would be an easy target, didn’t you, Djarin?”

The bounty hunter grunts when Paz forcefully pushes him backwards, slamming his head against the outer rim of the forge before wrapping his fingers around the injured man’s neck and holding his shiny helmet close to the intense flames.

You immediately voice your fears to Ima, who seems unfazed, as though this is a common occurrence, “Is Paz going to actually kill him?”

“Nah, this happens all the--” She stops mid sentence upon hearing the bounty hunter’s grunts and groans from the intense, suffocating heat that’s trapped underneath his helmet, though Paz makes no move to let him go, “Actually, he might go through with it this time. If not, Djarin’s definitely going to wish he was dead.”

“What?” Paz scoffs when the bounty hunter begins to thrash a little harder against the warrior’s unwavering grip, the heat most likely becoming more unbearable, “Can’t handle a little heat, vod? I’m sure you’re crying under that damn helmet more than she cried when you forced her to cauterize her own fucking wound.”

“I didn’t--” The bounty hunter sounds like he’s trying to disguise his excruciating pain and you feel your shoulders tense up to your earlobes, hating that you feel sympathy for the man who attempted to trade your life away for such a small price.

“Do you know how many times she tried to tell you?” Paz’s voice drops to a terrifying growl, the noise crackly and you wonder what’s currently going through his mind, “Do you know what she already had to deal with every damn day and you--” Tears fill your eyes at the pain in his next words, “You know what she means to me and you made her too scared to even look at me, hu’tuun. I almost lost her because of my own brother!”

You fear that the bounty hunter has passed out when he doesn’t respond, his body growing limp underneath Paz’s grip, but the warrior continues, “Why don’t I help you with that heat problem, Djarin? Bet you could use a little fresh air.”

You gasp when a large hand moves to the chin of the bounty hunter’s shiny helmet, his fingers curling underneath the lip and you immediately understand what he wants to do.

“You’re going to look her in eyes when you beg for forgiveness at her feet, Din Djarin.”

Translations *this is for all the dialogue between Imalia and Paz*

norac bid Nusujii, ori kebiin=back so soon, big blue?

cuyir ibic gar orikih baar'ur, ba’vodu?=is this your tiny medic, uncle?

Elek=yes (Lek is more casual, like ‘yeah’)

Ni copad at haa'taylir kaysh=I want to see her

Gar liser't chayaikir kaysh guuror ibic=You can't tease her like this

Ni guuror kaysh=i like her

cuyir gar orikih baar’ur ratiin ibic pel=Is your tiny medic always this soft?

tion'jor an te tal?=why all the blood?

vaii cuyir te sarad gar rucuyir cyau'kuyc at dinuir kaysh?=where is the flower you were excited to give her?

cuyir te baar'ur shupur'yc?= is the medic injured?

ner alor=my leader

Then there’s the usual words for nicknames and such:

Saviin’ika=Little violet

Cyare=Beloved, loved, popular

Hu’tuun=Coward

Verd=Warrior

Author’s note: Thank you all so much for the kind, supportive words on the last chapter!! Like, literally everyone has been so sweet and so supportive despite me being more inactive than usual and it seriously means the world to me?? Like I said before, I’m so excited to have more time to be active on here and interact with you all much more!! I love you all so much, hope you’re having a wonderful day, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it <33

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aeryntheofficial @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst @anakinsittinginsand @yes-music-is-my-religion @tangledlove27 @justrunamok @peqchynero @haloangel391 @honestlystop @cryptkeepersoul @haloangel391 @awhiskeywithawinchester *As always, if I missed anyone, please let me know ASAP!!

#paz vizsla x reader #Paz vizsla x you #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz vizsla #ngl #Paz is just an angry boi #saviin is like #bitch u left our warm bed to kick Din's butt??

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phis-corner · 4 years ago

Note

How about #34 and #9 on the fluff/angst list?Ship is yours to decide

34- “Please don’t do this.” 9- “You meant too much to me.” | Platonic Timari

Note: reverse robins au, where Tim was the one captured by Joker instead, choosing to take his own life instead of break under torture. Marinette, having given up LB post Hawkmoth’s defeat, chooses to take up her dead brother’s mantle after seeing Bruce spiral. She is also Bruce’s biological child in this au.

I got reaaaally into reverse robins, and this is the result.

TW: suicide mention

Her father and Alfred are being increasingly shifty about the Red Hood, abruptly stopping conversations when she enters the room and changing the subject when she brings up the mysterious man who’s been picking off the corrupted people in this city.

So she makes a plan to look into it in her own time, carefully watching and observing to find a free time slot, and seizes the opportunity.

Dad is at a WE meeting because Lucius threatened him with no gadgets for a month if he didn’t show again, Alfred is asleep (because he is actually human, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary), and Damian is in Bludhaven with Jon, both working their respective day jobs as an officer in the BPD and a journalist.

Marinette silently logs into the Batcomputer, bypassing the security on Hood’s file with a little help from Oracle (hey, Steph was being kept out of the dark too, and they were both curious.)

She reads the basic information, and scrolls down to the DNA section.

Her blood runs cold when she sees the information listed there, because how can it be a match?

He’s dead.

Dead.

Captured by the Joker, tortured near the breaking point, before taking his own life with a shard of broken glass to preserve their secrets.

She watched them lower his body into the ground. Watched as his friends and family stood there, under the clear blue sky, which seemed too pretty for such a terrible day.

Watched as his teammates broke down around his grave, as Bruce’s face crumpled when everyone else is gone.

Watched Damian, two weeks later, finally show up and leave a single purple hyacinth, kneeling in front of the headstone and tracing the letter with a single finger, head bowed, before leaving.

She searched up the meaning of the flower. I am sorry, please forgive me.

She mourned him.

Mourned a brother, so kind and intelligent, who never really knew how much he meant to all of them.

She has her own suspicions about how he was captured in the first place, but pointing fingers would do more harm than good.

Her father spiraled again, after he died.

She didn’t want to do it. Didn’t want to introduce a new Robin, and slowly let the world forget about the second. Robin should have died with Tim.

But Batman will not stop, and as long as he keeps fighting, he’ll need a Robin to hold him back.

Marinette dons the costume, two months after they bury him, and tries to forget that this uniform, his spare, still smells like him.

She’s wearing a dead boy’s clothes.

Alfred helps her make a new one after that first night.

Eventually, he does accept her as Robin. He trains her harder than he did both Damian and Tim.

She pushes through.

And now, four years later, there’s evidence proclaiming that he’s alive.

Alive, and on a killing spree, weeding out Gotham’s corrupt at the very center, strategically taking people out to topple the system.

A laugh escapes her, even as her shoulders shake with tears, because the methods are so familiar, so Tim, that she doesn’t know how she didn’t notice earlier.

She asks Jason to cover for her that night.

He agrees without any questions, seeing the serious look on her face. Marinette has never been more grateful for the boy she and Dad found stealing the tires of the Batmobile.

After Batman leaves (Robin is benched until Red Hood is taken care of, whatever that means), and she pretends to go to bed, she opens her closet and pushes against the hidden panel in the back wall, revealing a spare uniform.

Robin escapes out her window, even though she knows that Alfred will have been alerted by the window opening.

Too bad for them, though, because she removed all the trackers except the emergency beacon, which can only be activated from her side.

The Red Hood is elusive, but she knows his tricks. She keeps up with him as he turns corner after corner, jumps from building to building, until he stops on the roof of Wayne Enterprises.

“Robin.” He says, helmet filtering out any signs that it’s her brother underneath. “But you’re not really Robin, are you? You’re wearing a dead boy’s clothes.”

She can’t help it, she flinches at how casually he speaks of his own death.

“Tim.” She tugs at the uniform, which has never fit right, despite it being tailored to her exact measurements. “What happened to you?”

“What happened? I died, that’s what happened.” The helmet comes off with a click and a hiss of air, and then it’s just her brother, older, eyes violent green, face twisted into a sneer. “I went off to follow the lead on the Joker myself, since Big Bird shut the door in my face and told me it wouldn’t amount to anything, got myself captured, and ended my own life to preserve their secrets. But you should know all of that, Replacement.”

The nickname is like a dagger to the heart. “I never wanted to replace you, the same way you didn’t want to replace Damian.” She says steadily, staring straight into his eyes even as her heart skitters frantically. “I was keeping Robin’s legacy alive.”

“Robin should have died with me.”

“You know as much as I do that Batman needs a Robin, and Batman would not stop fighting as long as he lives.” She replies. “I never wanted to be Robin, Tim. It’s been four years, and it still feels like it doesn’t fit. But there was nobody else to do it, no one else to bring him out of that spiral.”

Tim is silent for a moment, so she continues.

“Come home, Tim. Please. We’ve all missed you so much. Dad isn’t the same anymore. No one is. We can be a family again.”

“Don’t you see, Marinette? I was never meant to be Robin, either. I was just that one annoying kid who wouldn’t leave Bruce alone, the one who blackmailed him into letting a second Robin out onto the streets. Even after I moved in, I was just that one kid who never really belonged, the outsider trying to insert himself into a family, pretending that Bruce cared for me as much as he did his biological children. Bruce only allowed me to stay in the Manor because I knew his secret. Damian made no effort to hide his disgust around me. You- you were the only one in that house who treated me like an equal.”

He draws a gun and points it at her, and she hears the safety click off. “But you’re Robin. He shouldn’t have made another child Robin. He should have said no, let the legacy die.”

“Tim,” She pleads. “Please don’t do this.”

Something in his eyes waver for a moment, fading to blue, before they harden into acid green again. “You meant too much to me. Let’s see if you mean enough to Batman too, enough for him to arrive on time.”

The gun goes off with a bang, and she feels the bullet enter through a crack in her armor, burying itself in her torso. The pain is nothing new, but overwhelming all the same as her entire body seems to be on fire.

The last thing she does before everything goes black is calibrate the beacon to send the signal to Nightwing only, before smashing the button with all her remaining strength.

I hope Flamebird gets them here on time.

There are two reasons why she chooses to send it to Nightwing, and Nightwing only. One being because Damian doesn’t know that Tim is alive, and despite everything, he deserves to.

The other?

She doesn’t trust her father to make it.

permanent tags

@wannajointhecrabcult @miraculous-simmer7 @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @fantasyislive @chocolateherringtacofan @junarvion @susiej1118 @aestheticnpoetic @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladybug-182 @itsmeevie01 @g-arya @souleateralicestein @nightstarblue @i-is-mysterious @moonystars14 @vixen-uchiha @the-flapdoodle-noodle @labschaos @nathleigh @jalaluvsu @kaithehero @iamablinkmarvelarmy

unspecified @momothefemur @indecisive-mess-named-me @laurcad123 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @sassakitty @fusser90

#maribat #platonic timari #ambiguous ending #my writing

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guiltydumpling · 4 years ago

Text

The Guard: Chapter 2

[KUVIRA X READER ROYAL AU]

Summary: “I called you all here to announce that we have a guest arriving sometime later today. Princess Y/N of the Kingdom of Elysian” The people in the throne room looked at one another confusingly. “Their palace was under sieged and the king had to send the princess away to keep her safe from any assassination attempts. Their kingdom has done a lot for us and has proven to be great allies for generations. She’s come a long way and has been traveling for a week, I expect nothing less than for all of you to treat her as you do a member of the royal family and to attend to everything and anything, she might ask for… This poor child has already been through too much.” There was silence in the throne room for a while, as they let the information sink in. “Dismissed.”

Word Count: 5.5k

A few weeks pass and you start to slowly ease into life in the Kingdom of Zaofu. It was indeed an adjustment, especially whenever you were invited for meals or walks with the Beifongs. Their majesties had 5 children and because of that, there was never a dull moment whenever you were with them. It was refreshing, especially since you grew up in a rather quiet household with only one sister wich whom you got along with really well, and your father.

You started to have a soft spot for Opal. She reminded you a lot of yourself when you were younger, and she tugs at your heartstrings whenever she would do something so wholesome and so pure. You even witnessed her discover her new ability to air bend and you swear to the spirits that your heart wanted to burst out of your chest. You felt yourself silently rooting for her, wishing that everything goes well for her. Spirits know you would have turned out differently if someone rooted for you too. She just reminded you of the time you actually felt happy, and it pains your heart that it’s been such a long time that you couldn’t remember it yourself.

You were always delighted whenever the twins were around. They were skilled benders and they always seemed to break her majesty’s “no bending in the palace rule” and since they discovered Suyin’s sweet spot for you, they always ask you to cover for them, which you reluctantly do so.

Huan was a peculiar kid, “an artist” Kuvira would say with an underlying tone of mockery. Huan saw a sketch you made of Kuvira in one of the books in their library and you swear it was the first time you have ever seen this guy smile. It warmed your heart that you were the cause of it. Huan told the story of how you had talent one night over dinner and you felt your cheeks heat up when Kuvira raised an eyebrow at you. I like sketching Kuvira, big deal.

Bataar Jr. on the other hand was a different story. You found out that he had been courting Kuvira for a while but was rejected repeatedly. You didn’t know how to feel about it so you simply keep your distance from him, besides, he was the heir to the throne, any interaction you made with him could cause a stir around the palace and start marriage rumors. You did not need unnecessary stress, and you had a feeling that it was a mutual concern.

It was a warm glowing morning and you were eating breakfast in the dining hall with the Beifongs. You sat there quietly as you finished your meal when the twins suddenly burst through the doors in their training gear. “Kuvira!” Wing exclaimed bending a piece of metal disc at great speed towards Kuvira who was posed at the other end of the hall, you were about to tell Kuvira to get out of the way but you stop yourself when you see Kuvira effortlessly dodge the disc with ease and bent it back to the twins at a slower pace as to avoid accidents. You hear Suyin raise her voice slightly at the twins reminding them about the no bending in the palace rule but was yet again ignored by the twins. When Wei caught the disc, he decided to keep it in the bag he was carrying. “Good morning to the both of you too” she responded unphased, perhaps it was a common thing in their mornings? You thought watching the scenario play out “You coming to spar with us?” Wing asked and Kuvira nodded “You go ahead, I’ll catch up” she said

“It’s okay. You can go now if you want to, I’ll finish my breakfast and ask another guard to escort me, I’ll be okay.” You tell Kuvira with a gentle smile and before she could answer, Wei, cuts her off, “You should come by the training grounds and watch us! Metal bending can be even more impressive when used in combat” he suggested. And you thought about it for a moment before accepting the invitation earning a cheer from the twins and a smile from Kuvira who was proud of you for making an effort from keeping yourself from sulking in your room as you did when you first arrived. The three metal benders exit the dining hall and you go back to eating your food. “You would think that as an empress I would get some respect around here. And yet I can’t even get my twins to stop bending in the palace” Suyin huffs at her husband and the emperor simply laughs at his wife’s frustration. You silently do too.

~ ~ ~

You finish your breakfast and Opal offers to keep your company to watch them spar which you appreciated. On the way to the training grounds, Opal was telling you about how excited she was about meeting the Avatar. “The Avatar?” you ask curiously “oh yes! Mom insisted on inviting the Avatar to give me proper training. It’s kind of exciting” you feel your heart warm once more for this girl. She really did remind you of who you used to be. So lively and full of hope dreaming of nothing but to become a bender. Except for this time, she actually became one.

“Will that not require you to go back with the Avatar to the mainland?” Opal thought about it for a moment but immediately shook her head. “No, mom would never let me go” she said with a hint of sadness “do you want to?” You asked, “I don’t think that matters” she answers and you two continue walking in silence. “You know in your heart it does Opal” you say, and Opal simply shrugs. “So, how’s Zaofu been treating you?” she asks in an attempt to change the subject.

“It’s been an interesting adjustment. For starters, I was never invited to watch anyone train before” you answered. “I was always kept indoors and was never permitted to wander the grounds unless necessary.” You continued and Opal furrowed her eyebrows “that must have been so boring” she commented which earned a laugh from you. “A little bit, I admit. But I always focused my energy somewhere else. I learned how to play the piano, draw, cook, and I’ve probably read everything about anything” you say somewhat proudly. “You know how to make the best of what you’ve got then” Opal tells you with a smile.

You reach the training grounds and you were greeted by Wing and Wei calling your attention and you wave your hand to acknowledge them. Your eyes land on Kuvira who was out of her usual armor and you couldn’t help but admire her. She wore a white tank top that clung to her torso showing off her fit figure and her arms really well and you couldn’t help but imagine how muscular the captain must be underneath. Her hair was in its usual bun but this time strands were falling from it, framing her face. Her face. It was flushed, which gave her cheeks a rosy and her lips were pinker than usual. The sunbeams bounced off her skin, and your eyes accidentally land on her heaving chest which was glistening from sweat and you swear to the spirits above you felt something warm in the pit of your stomach. That is inappropriate. You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt Opal nudge you to ask if you wanted to take a seat to which you accepted. You took a seat under a gazebo where their bags were placed a few feet away from what was happening in the training grounds. Kuvira locks eyes with you for the first time since you arrived and smiles at you. Shit, there it is again… the warmth. You try to appear composed as you smiled back at her with a wave before they continued with their training.

You were in awe of everything that was happening before you. The twins were like one body as they complemented each other’s combat so perfectly. They used cable wires that were suspended to their waste as an accessory to make their fighting more efficient with a combination of traditional earth bending techniques. Kuvira on the other hand was a different kind of fighter. She moved so fluidly and so gracefully swiftly dodging the boulders that were flying towards her, barely making use of earth but instead of the metal strips, she expertly pulled from her wrists and her belt. It was a technique like you’ve never seen before. By the time the twins were panting to try and catch their breath, Kuvira looked like she was only warmed up. She was sweating a lot but evidently still had energy. Meanwhile, Wing lies down on the ground exhausted from the training and the heat. “Get up Wing! I don’t imagine your highness would simply accept defeat?” Kuvira retorted while bouncing lightly on her toes getting ready for another strike but Wing simply waves her off “How are you not tired yet?!” Wei answers back and Kuvira chuckles “Stamina” she answered.

There it is again… the warmth, but this time you weren’t aware enough to try and hide it because your breath hitched, and Opal noticed. “Are you okay Y/N?” and you simply nod and excused yourself because the heat was starting to get a little too much so she bent a little breeze towards you which to your surprise actually helped. You thanked her and you see the benders walking towards the both of you and you felt the warmth in your stomach again. Shit.

Kuvira sits beside her bag which happened to be across from you and this way you had a full close-up view of her. She took a mini towel from her back and started wiping her sweat off with it and you couldn’t help but follow the movement of the towel that was pressed against her skin. From her forehead to her neck, her chest, her arms, and the way she lifted her tank top to run the towel across her back and stomach just enough to give you a peek of what was under the garment confirming your initial thought of her muscular physique when you were able to catch a glance at her really toned stomach. This caused another surge of warmth in your body and you had to force yourself to look away.

“What kind of physical activities do you do Y/N?” Wing asked you.

“not much since I never had a proper hand in hand combat training but… I’m a pro in archery if I do say so myself” You said with a smile

“Really? But I thought you were discouraged from going outside?” Kuvira asked

“By my father’s advisors yes, father never liked the idea of that and so he would often sneak with me into the throne room at night when the entire court would be asleep and teach me a thing or two about archery until I mastered it eventually” You explained

“Sounds like one hell of a trainer” Wei commented

“He was” you say with a smile and you feel your chest tighten. Spirits I miss him.

“Maybe you can teach us something about archery and we can train you with combat” Kuvira says trying to change the topic when she notices the change in your expression, and you hesitated for a while. Constantly hesitating was starting to become a reflex for you. You were so used to being controlled and told what to do that whenever opportunities would present themselves to you, you couldn’t help but feel like somebody else should take it instead. “I… guess we can arrange something like that” you say a little slowly unconsciously anticipating someone to interject. But nobody did. How refreshing you thought

~ ~ ~

Later in the day, you were quietly sitting in the library, pretending to read a book when you were really just sketching her again, not wanting to forget the image of her this morning as you tried your best to translate in on the paper. Meanwhile, Kuvira was situated in an armchair playing with a piece of metal as she transformed it into different figures. Something you observed Kuvira liked to do when she didn’t have anything on her mind. You finish the sketch a few moments later and was about to actually read a book this time when one of the guards rushed into the library causing Kuvira to stand abruptly to greet the guard. “Report?” she said in an authoritative manner which you found extremely intriguing causing a flash of warmth in your stomach for what felt like the hundredth time today.

“The avatar is here captain” and that got your attention. The guard reported that a huge airship landed on Zaofu only to find out that it was the Avatar and her company, arriving two days earlier than expected. You and Kuvira immediately rushed to the receiving hall and Suyin introduces you to the Avatar and her friends

“Princess Y/N! I would like to introduce you to Avatar Korra” Suyin said and you bow to a woman with mocha skin and blue eyes as she did the same for you too. You were caught a little bit off guard when the Avatar reaches for your hand and says, “I am so sorry for what your kingdom is going through right now.” You felt tears form in your eyes and you quickly blinked them away with a smile. “Thank you” you said gently.

After the Avatar releases your hand Suyin proceeds to introduce you to the Avatar’s friends. You meet Lin, Su’s older sister who you have admired all your life for the stories of her bravery in giving up her title and inheritance to be the chief of security in the mainland. Then you meet Bolin and Mako, who both took your hand and kissed it as a sign of respect and that they shared the same sentiment with the avatar towards your kingdom’s demise. And then you meet Asami, a tall, beautiful woman that you quickly learned was involved with the Avatar when one of the guards stared at her for a little bit too long only to have Korra glare at him and pull Asami by the waist for the indication to back-off. Suffice to say you were surprised. You were not made aware that this kind of relationship was okay around here because back in Elysian it was ultimately frowned upon and discouraged. A taboo, basically. Interesting.

Suyin gave a personal tour around the estate and you decided to join along trailing behind them a little bit when you start to converse with Asami. You learned that she was a Sato which impressed you a lot since you have always been a fan of Future Industries. She tells you the story of how she had to take over an entire company at such a young age after her father was imprisoned because of his involvement with the equalists. She was a strong and smart independent young woman. And you admired her for that.

~ ~ ~

Dinner was great and entertaining as usual. There were more of you than usual and the dinner was meant to celebrate Opal and her new skill for air bending which resulted in Suyin requesting wine to be served. You were raised on wine and so you were really good at tolerating its side effects. The Avatar, on the other hand, was a different story. She was all over the place and was already spilling some on herself and the table, not that any of you minded or if the others even noticed, everyone was pretty much approaching Korra’s level of intoxication, and you were amused. Having cups of sake was a daily practice in Elysian, some nobles taking the drink even in the morning. You were sipping on your fourth glass and sitting poised amidst the chaos and the loud laughter and you lock eyes with Kuvira who was standing by the doorway with amusement in her eyes. She mouthed an “are you okay?” to you and you simply smile and nod as you finish the last drops of your glass before getting up to retire to your chambers.

“Where are you going Princess Y/N” Huan calls out turning the attention of the room towards you. “I’m spent. I will be heading to my chambers now” you say respectfully and Asami whines about the night just getting started which was far from the truth, because, by the looks of everyone, they were about to pass out after two more refills. “Well don’t stop on my account” you say anyway as you continue to walk towards the door but not before stopping in front of Kuvira. “Do you mind escorting me captain?” you say to her and she puts a hand on the small of your back to lead you to your room.

The walk to your room was in comfortable silence and when you reached your chambers you turn to Kuvira and invite her inside. She looks at you quizzically, “Zhu Li is not back yet, I could use some company” you explain and Kuvira accepts. You lead Kuvira to your room and she awkwardly stands there not quite sure what her purpose was. Kuvira never entered your room unless Zhu Li was with you. Usually, when Zhu Li was not with you, it indicates that you simply wanted to be left alone which Kuvira respected. But something was different this time. You were okay. For the first time in a while, you were happy.

You walk towards your vanity before taking a seat and you start to take off your jewelry. “You can take a seat Vee, it’s okay.” You say but Kuvira shakes her head “I’m good right here” she says as she stands awkwardly in the center of the room and you roll your eyes not believing her statement “Suit yourself then” you challenged. “Zhu Li usually helps me get ready for the night, but I gave her the day off so It’s pretty much the first time I’m attending to myself” you say in an attempt to make conversation. “How does it feel?” Kuvira asks

“Liberating” you answer with a smile and Kuvira chuckles in amusement and so did you

“I wasn’t joking” you defended yourself as you sat there still laughing lightly and Kuvira shakes her head at your statement.

“It’s just a very strong word to describe the feeling of preparing yourself before bed your highness” She explains with a smile and you furrow your eyebrows “Well how would you use the word “liberating” then?” you asked. Kuvira thought about it for a while before taking a seat on the ottoman at the edge of your bed before locking eyes with you “Probably when I’m free to do whatever I want, without having to worry about social stigma or the consequences. Libersating” she answers, and you nod your head in understanding still not breaking eye contact with her. You didn’t want to. Kuvira smiles at you and eventually looks away to stare at the moon peeking through your window. This pulls you from your thoughts and you decide to get up and undress in the bathroom.

You managed to get the first layer of your dress off but there were two more layers and you were running out of patience as you discover how difficult it is to remove your dress without somebody there to help you. You let out a deep sigh and you peek your head from the bathroom door to see Kuvira standing over your desk, her back turned towards you. You cleared your throat to catch her attention and she turns around. “Yes princess?” she asks, and you slowly walk out of the bathroom with only the underlayer of your dress and you notice Kuvira tense. You pursed your lips trying to hide your embarrassment. “Can you… um… undress me?” you ask and Kuvira stands there not quite sure what you’re suggesting, and you mentally facepalm yourself. My goodness, that sounded so wrong. “What I meant was… I can’t reach the um… the hooks that keep my dress up and I need you to undo it for me” you try to explain, your cheeks slowly heating up from the embarrassment and Kuvira blinks before gaining her composure back “Turn around” she says

You felt your cheeks burn and you followed. You feel Kuvira’s breath at the back of your ear causing goosebumps to rise in your skin. Fuck. The fact that your hair was up exposing the back of your neck fully proved to be no help at all. You closed your eyes trying to erase the crude images flashing in your mind as you feel Kuvira slowly unclasp the hooks of your dress one by one. She undoes the first layer and it drops to the ground. Now you were practically in your undergarment. No, you were in your undergarment. Kuvira’s fingers skillfully untie the ribbons of the garment that held your breasts up. For every ribbon she unties, your breath was getting heavier and your eyes remain closed trying to keep composure. Kuvira was at the final ribbon and your entire back was exposed now as you held the garment into place, so your chest was still covered. Your breath hitched when you felt Kuvira’s nose touch your ear. Spirits help me, what is she doing? You stopped breathing when she slowly traced her fingers lightly from the back of your neck to the small of your back. What was once an innocent stomach flutter, became a heating sensation between your legs. Fuck. “done” Kuvira whispers in your ear. It took most of your energy to turn back around to face her and say thank you like you weren’t affected in the slightest as she gives you a weak smile and a “no problem.”

You walk back into your bathroom and lightly close the door behind to lean against it, “Shit” you whisper to yourself already knowing what this feeling meant. It wasn’t your first time to desire for somebody you couldn’t. You felt that once a year or two ago with one of your ladies, but with the stigma on those kinds of relationships plus the fact that she was engaged to a nobleman since she was 9… you had to suck it up and move on. You did a damn good job of hiding your desires and your feelings back then, and you can do it again.

You took a look at yourself in the mirror before disregarding the garment you held on to, to wrap a robe securely around your body. You gently wash your face and you mentally prepared yourself to face Kuvira once more. Suck it up Y/N. You said to yourself before pushing the door open to see Kuvira standing over your desk again.

“What’s so interesting about that desk Vee?” you jokingly ask

“I thought Huan was exaggerating your talent when he said you could draw, but… this is truly impressive your highness” Kuvira answered turning to face you with a few sketches you made in hand. You smile at her and mentally thank the spirits that your drawings of Kuvira were in the library and that most of the sketches you kept in your room were more of the palace and some sketches of Zhu Li and the Beifongs, mainly Opal.

“You like Opal?” Kuvira asked with a smirk and your eyes widened

“Not in that way!” You defended and Kuvira gives a hearty laugh

“There’s nothing wrong with it! She is a princess after all… It can work!” She jokes and you shake your head in embarrassment before opening one of the cabinets in the room. You pulled out a bottle of sake and two glasses placing it on your desk, and you filled the glasses half-way. I’m not doing this sober. Kuvira’s laugh falters and looks at you in confusion. “What?” you ask as you hand her a glass. “You keep sake in your room?” she asks with an amused smile before taking it from you. “I am from Elysian after all” you say and you two clink your glasses as you take a sip. Kuvira coughs loudly from the drink and you try to suppress a smile. “What is this?! Gasoline?!” she accuses still recovering from the burn of the liquid. You chuckle at her reaction “Haven’t you ever had whiskey before?” you ask surprised. “I’ve heard of it and its effects, but I would have never guessed that I would encounter it first of with an “indoor” princess” She explains, “It’s disgusting by the way. How could you possibly enjoy this?” she says in disgust

“Give it a few more sips and believe me when I say that the taste will be the last thing on your mind.” You say wickedly as you clink your glasses again forcing Kuvira to drink once more out of respect. You see her nose scrunch up in disgust as you tried to hide your smile behind the glass personally finding this entertaining. Who knew my talent for controlling the effects of sake had its own advantages?

Turns out, Kuvira wasn’t a lightweight after all. You spent the rest of the night sitting across from each other on the large window seat already nearly halfway through the bottle and Kuvira isn’t much of a mess yet. Kuvira drinks the remaining liquid in her glass and refills it once more “You know what… this isn’t actually so bad” she comments, “Didn’t I tell you?” you say with a smile. At this point, your hair was already down and you didn’t bother to change out of your robe while Kuvira bent her armor off and disregarded some of her clothing claiming it was “too much” leaving her in green pants and a white tank top which in all honestly you didn’t mind at all.

You stretched your legs to be more comfortable and Kuvira’s eyes land on the exposed skin before looking back up at you. “You know nearly everything about me…” you start and Kuvira nods her head in agreement “I should, I’m tasked to look after you all” she says “Yes, but I don’t really know much about you except for the fact that you hate reading” you say and Kuvira laughs “I’m being serious!” you say with a pout letting the effects of sake kick in. “okay… what do you want to know princess?” she asks and you pretend to think for a moment

“Everything.” You say with a smile before taking a sip from your drink and Kuvira shakes her head at you “Fine.”

“Well, I wasn’t born here in Zaofu…” She started “My parents decided that they couldn’t take care of me anymore and so they brought me here hoping a rich family would adopt me. They left me outside the Palace and one of the guards brought me in and told me to behave if I wanted the nobles to like me. But I was an extremely disobedient kid you see, so when the guard left, I wandered around the castle and ended up in the throne room and fell asleep on the throne” you gasped at this part, earning a chuckle from Kuvira. The throne was sacred and should never be treated with disrespect. Back home, you were only allowed to stand by the throne only when your father was there. Forget about sitting on it. You would have to be the queen to be able to do that.

“Time passed and I felt somebody nudging me awake and when I opened my eyes a woman was staring at me. It was Empress Suyin with a concerned look on her face. She asked me where my parents were and I told her that I didn’t have parents anymore, so she decided to take me in and let me live in the Palace as an adopted member of the family.” She says “But their advisors were against it. They said that I could never be entitled to anything since I was not a real Beifong. And for a little kid, it was the most confusing thing you could possibly hear. I remember thinking: How am I not a Beifong? Suyin was practically my mother and her kids treated me like a sister” She said with a sad look “Eventually when I turned 8 Suyin brought me to the training grounds to show me the meteorites. Surprisingly enough I was quick to bend the meteorite and Suyin told me it was the fastest she’s ever seen anyone attempt and succeed at metal bending. She called me a protégé. Since that day, she has personally trained me and taught me everything I know today.” Kuvira took another drink from her glass “By the age of 16 I joined the royal family’s guard and told Su that if I couldn’t become a Beifong then I will spend the rest of my lifr protecting the Beifongs, the only family I have ever known. After a few years, I raised above my station until I became a captain. It was Suyin who gave me the title, and no one objected to it because they all knew I worked my ass off everyday to get here” Kuvira finishes.

“You call her majesty by her name because she’s basically your mother” you say in realization and Kuvira nods her head. “She insisted on it.” Kuvira explains.

You leaned forward to grab her hand and looked at her with sorrow in your eyes “I’m sorry about your parents… It must have been hard for you as a kid to suddenly be away from them” you say, and she smiles weakly at you unconsciously leaning forward too. “I’m okay” she says. And none of you talk for a while. You lock eyes with her and once again your head is filled with thoughts that shouldn’t be there, but the liquid courage is giving you the strength to not look away. Kuvira didn’t look away too, she didn’t want to. Your stomach starts to feel the all too familiar warmth and you can’t help but wonder if she felt it too.

Your thoughts were confirmed when she gently placed a palm on your cheek and started caressing it. Suddenly you didn’t want to suck it up anymore. You were no longer in control. As if it were instinct, you leaned into her touch and Kuvira slowly leaned in closer. You didn’t dare move a muscle as you felt her breath against your own. One more inch and the gap between the two of you would be closed. But she stopped moving and it took everything in you to not close the gap yourself. She’s a princess Kuvira thought to herself. She closed her eyes and took a sharp breath “I’m sorry” she mutters before quickly pulling away. It took you a few seconds to process what just happened. “It’s… It’s okay.” You say quietly “We’ve had a lot to drink” you say with a little more volume and Kuvira simply nods and gets up but the sake got the best of her when she accidentally stumbles and she had to hold your arm to keep her balance. You chuckle lightly at this and she smiles at herself in embarrassment.

“That whiskey is no joke” Kuvira comments and you two laugh “…what the fuck just happened?” she says and you two laugh even harder, tears forming in your eyes. Your laughter dies down and Kuvira starts to collect herself again and starts putting her disregarded clothes “I should probably go. I need to get at least a few hours of sleep before the day starts or I might space out the entire day” she says before bending her armor back on expertly. “You could sleep here if you want… The couch is rather comfortable” you offered and Kuvira shakes her head “I’m afraid that would be too much for me to accept. I’ll be heading back to my quarters” She explains, and you couldn’t help but feel the pang of disappointment which you expertly conceal. “okay then. Just don’t stumble on your way back” you jokingly say, earning a light chuckle from Kuvira.

Kuvira head for the door but you call her attention before she does “Hey Vee!” she turns to you “Thank you… For tonight” you say and she smiles softly at you “Good night princess…” she checks the clock on the wall “Or should I say morning” she jokes and your smile widens at her wit and she proceeds to open the door, leaving you alone in your chambers and with your thoughts. You were still sat on the window seat and the smile on your face slowly fades as the events of tonight sank in. She feels it too. You thought and you didn’t know what to do with that information exactly. You ended up sitting there for a little while longer to stare out the window. “Spirits help me” you say out loud.

#kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira fanfic #fanfic #OC #Royal AU #lgbt #kuvira is hot #simp #I hate fascists but Kuvira can rail me #w|w #Lesbian #f/f romance #tlok #lok #the legend of korra #avatar

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eringurumi · 5 years ago

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The Mandalorian Pattern

Ok! Here is my original crochet amigurumi pattern for the Mandalorian, to go with my other yarn creation, Baby Yoda. As before, if you use this pattern, please link back to my page, and tag me or send me a picture! I will slam that reblog button so fast! Or tag me on insta: @ erin.gurumi

Fun fact: this isn’t my first time around Mandalorian armor... In 2013 (!) I crocheted my friend a Boba Fett amigurumi, which you can see HERE and HERE. I improved the pattern a bit, but I did want to share because there are some in-progress pics which could potentially help, as I’m unfortunately not the best at taking them while I work!

Technical stuff: I used a 3.0 mm crochet hook and these yarns:

Loops and Threads Impeccable in Walnut Tweed (body and cape)

Red Heart Super Saver in Cafe Latte (belt and bandolier)

Red Heart Super Saver in Light Grey (armor)

Red Heart Super Saver in Black (visor)

Red Heart Super Saver in Carrot (gloves)

I was really happy with the brown color I found for the body (this project was the first time in YEARS I’ve actually opted to increase my stash and it was worth it!), but I think there is plenty of room to experiment with other colors!

^ Helmet

I think it was such a bold choice to go with uncolored metal for the Mandalorian’s armor! It’s very hard to simplify and not be evocative of medieval knights or Trojan/Spartan warriors... In this picture, you can see I made a short strip of grey yarn that I thought could be the seam down his helmet, but I decided it just didn’t work for my scale.

6 sc in a magic circle

inc 6x to make 12 stitches

(1 sc, inc) 6x to make 18 stitches

(2 sc, inc) 6x to make 24 stitches

(3 sc, inc) 6x to make 30 stitches

(4 sc, inc) 6x to make 36 stitches

2 rows of 36 stitches

1 row of 36 stitches, with 12 black stitches in the front

1 row of 36 stitches with 12 black stitches aligned with previous ones

4 rows of 36 stitches in grey

1 row of grey, add two increases at the front (38 stitches)

1 row of 38 stitches

I found it easiest to eyeball where I wanted to start the black yarn for the visor, rather than count out how many grey stitches before the color change. At the end, leave a tail but don’t pull the loop through, since changing to the brown yarn for the under helmet part will be a color change.

^ Front visor section and bottom of helmet:

Before closing off the helmet, I made the front separately and sewed it on - I think that’s much easier than trying to do color changes in each row and keeping them nicely lined up, plus, it gives the helmet just a bit of texture that I like to imagine gives the suggestion of some contours.

6 foundation single crochet in black

turn, 6 sc in grey, tie off leaving a tail

reattach grey yarn to other side of the black, 6 sc, tie off

sew onto helmet

To close off the helmet, change to the brown yarn, and for the first row crochet only in the back loops to make a sharper change between the helmet and the underside (neck?) area. I was not super precise with this part, as all I wanted was for the underside to be mostly flat.

(2sc, dec) ~9x in back loops to make ~29 stitches

(1sc 1 dec) until closed (stuff part way through)

tie off and weave in tail

^ Legs (make 2)

To make the feet look more boot-like, I did all the foot-to-leg decreases on one side, but most of the shape comes from just smooshing it with my hand. Also, I tried to evoke his one larger armor piece by having an extra row of grey on his right leg, but it ended up being a bit subtle. (I know his armor is only on the front of his legs, but I didn’t want to color change that often in such a small space, and the back of the leg is hidden enough by his cape that I don’t mind!)

6 sc in a magic circle

inc 6x to make 12 stitches

(1 sc, inc) 6x to make 18 stitches

1 row of 18 sc in back loops

(decrease 8x), 2 sc to make 10 stitches

6 rows (his left) or 5 rows (his right) of 10 stitches in brown

color change to grey in back

3 rows (his left) or 4 rows (his right) of 10 stitches in grey

For one leg, tie off the tail, for the second leg, make sure that the loop is still available to start the torso section. (I chose which leg to begin the body based on the direction I was crocheting, for me it ended up being HIS right leg). Make sure both legs are stuffed!

^ Torso:

The torso is made by connecting the two legs with a round of crochet. I started with the brown yarn, switched to a lighter brown for the belt section, then for the breast plate unfortunately it’s just a bunch of color changes! My best advice is to keep securing and tying off ends as you go, and stuffing as the body gets taller.

On right leg, color change from grey to dark brown, chain 1, slip stitch into left leg, sc around both legs (~20 stitches - if it ends up more, just decrease in back to that)

another row of 20 stitches in dark brown, color change to light brown

2 rows of 20 stitches in light brown

(1 dec in the back) 7 grey in front, 12 dark brown in back (19 stitches)

7 grey in front, 12 dark brown in back (19 stitches)

(1 dec in back), 6 grey in front, 12 dark brown in back (18 stitches)

6 grey in front, 12 dark brown in back (18 stitches)

(1 dec in back) 5 grey in front, 12 dark brown in back (17 stitches)

5 grey in front, 12 dark brown in back (17 stitches)

(1 dec in back) 4 grey in front, 12 dark brown in back (16 stitches)

(1 dec in back) all dark brown (15 stitches)

(1 dec in back) all dark brown (14 stitches)

Finish off and leave a tail to sew the head on.

^ Arms (make two):

I was really happy with my decision to make his little orange mitts - for such a simple costume with very little ability to emote, those gloves really help to draw focus on small gestures!

6 sc in magic circle in orange, color change to brown

1 row of 6 stitches in brown

(inc, 2 sc) 2x to make 8 stitches

Take one tail of the orange yarn and thread it through to the second brown row, chain 3 and loop it over, securing it back into the brown yarn to make a thumb

Change to grey, 4 rows of 8 stitches

Change to brown, 5 rows of 8 stitches

Stuff and finish off leaving a tail.

^ Bandolier / Assembling body:

Sorry he looks a little dismembered here... but at this point you’re almost done!

For the bandolier, in light brown, chain ~9 (I just measured it across his chest plate from belt to shoulder)

Tie off the end and pull both tails through the body, making it snug against his chest, tie off and weave in ends

Sew head onto body using the tail from the neck, weave in ends

Sew arms on leaving a little room between them and the head (so his pauldrons will fit!), weave in ends

^ Pauldrons

These are simple! Make two!

6 sc in a magic circle

(sc, inc) 3x to make 9 stitches

To attach them, since I liked the look of the stitches sitting freely on the arms, I took the tail from the center and sewed it through the arm, then used just a single stitch on the upper arm and lower arm to hold them in place.

^ Cape:

A lot of the taper on this cape was because I was accidentally dropping stitches at the beginning of each row - I am terrible at crochet when it isn’t in the round! I used half double crochets since I like how they make a slightly looser texture than the body. You can also see here why I try to color change in the back - it doesn’t end up looking super even!

foundation single crochet 14, turn

1 row (14 hdc, turn)

9 rows of (1 dec, hdc across, turn)

This got me to approximately 5 stitches across, which looked like a good size to fit between the shoulders. I took the other tail and wove it up the side until both tails were coming from the top of the cape. Tie off the end and sew onto the back of his neck!

I know that was a lot! As always, feel free to ask me questions if you get stuck or something doesn’t make sense, since it’s very possible I made a mistake in my write up! Best of luck crocheting your very own Mandalorian! I hope to see him and his partner in crime Baby Yoda off on many adventures together!

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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago

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Someone Left to Save (8)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: My computer just died on me twice now. Whatever bullshit it’s trying to do, it’s not helping my anxiety at all lmao I’m just outliving its usefulness until it actually dies for good... that is until I get a new SSD and HDD.

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 | Previous: Part 7 | Next: Part 9 | Masterlist

8 of ?

“Hey, get up! It’s time for your daily exercise,” a Stormtrooper grumbled on the other side of the ray-shielded prison cell.

You sit there inside—eyes closed, in a meditation position on your knees, hands on top of them. Purposefully ignoring the guards, they tagged you as stubborn, dismissive, and ignorant. They can’t comprehend how you’re perfectly unmoved by the shouting and the banging of their weapons against the walls to draw your attention.

You can hear them, alright. You just chose not to listen.

A lie. Your mind spoke.

Ever since they saw your display against the Second Brother, the so-called “daily exercise” is a kind word they used for the gladiatorial training they throw you into. Everyday, they’d force you out of your cell—which, ironically, is the safest place you could ever be in this predicament—and each time you resisted, a strike on the head or the first body part they see is what you get in return. Once in the dojo, you face a wave of enemies; at first it was a batch of Scout Troopers—they were quite easy to fight—next they started mixing it up with Scout and Purge Troopers, and eventually they used Purge Troopers for your duels, the latter persisted for the rest of your days in the prison.

Sometimes no one knows who is whose training dummies—regardless, the fights went on and the Purge Troopers treated it like a breath of fresh air every time.

“HEY!” the Stormtrooper, impatient of your unresponsiveness, punched the wall at you. Your reaction defeated its purpose. “Do you hear me?! I said stand up!”

“Hey, don’t cause such a ruckus. It’s just one kid,”

“Are Jedi always this stubborn?”

The second Stormtrooper made an incoherent, indifferent grumble as he shrugged his shoulders, wanting to end the small talk and just wait until your budged. When there was nothing but silence, spare the muttering complaints of the guards in the midst of the silence, you relished the peace again.

“Well, finally,” you quietly tell yourself and hung your head down.

There were worse things to worry about.

Visions revolving in hate, anger, and even death—these were the images that you cannot purge from your mind. Not even the purification of meditating proved to be of any help. Something was clouding your mind in the Force and bent them to their malignant will.

Much later, the ray shield died down at the push of a button. The same, irate Stormtrooper enters your cell, but you remained still as a stone. His boot harshly bumps into your knee.

“Hey,” he nudged. “Stand up!”

Nothing.

Again, he kicked your knee, hard enough for it to bruise in a few minutes.

When he’s had about enough, he kicked you in the stomach—he made it precise for the tip of his boot to rupture your gut. As you were weak—which he took advantage of—you curled up, hugging yourself with your arms coiled around your torso, you writhed in pain while supporting your entire weight with one hand planted on the floor.

“Don’t make me hit you again—though I wouldn’t even need a reason!“ he snarled.

You sharply, nasally inhaled; fingernails scratching against the dirty metal floor of the cell as you wait out for the pain to alleviate. Your eyes flicked open and your head jerked up, shooting the Stormtrooper an unwelcoming, hateful look in the eye—he didn’t want to admit it, but he flinched when he saw your bloodshot eyes: dark circles framing it, and the linings swelling in a burning pink hue.

“Come on, Jedi, we got a long ahead of—”

A soft rumble in the air hummed around the cell. Apathetic eyes stared at the Stormtrooper, watching him gag, desperately gasp for air through the barely-breathable helmet, and claw at his neck. He submitted to his knees, in the same level as you sitting down leisurely in the middle of the room, and it’s as though you two saw eye-to-eye—through that black tinted visor, he catches an arrogant smirk curling at the corner of your mouth, and he realizes too late that he’s crossed you.

You were neither a Jedi nor an Inquisitor. For now, you were something in between. Your madness is basically limbo.

You slowly raise your hand, your fingers are curled in a chokehold but there was still a gap around them, though it didn’t stay that long because with an abrupt closing motion of the hand—a popping sound came from the Stormtrooper, his head had twisted to an abnormal angle, and then his corpse made a loud thud that alarmed his companion.

“Hey, what’s going on over th—?”

Horrified, the Stormtrooper choked on the last words of his sentence. He stood there frozen in the hallway, contemplating whether to step inside to pull the dead Stormtrooper out of the cell; his course of action was to contact the maintenance assigned to the prison block to get you. The crew was equally afraid of you, but since they know in themselves that they’ve never crossed you, they’ve got nothing to fear—although it’s the way you look at people is what scares them, it’s rather more of an upward glare than a look.

Minutes later, the Second Brother strolls into the prison block as if it was some kind of leisurely pastime. At his command, the ray-shield disappeared and he let himself in your cell.

“Hello, little thorn, can’t be late for your daily exercise,”

“Says who?”

“Says me, the Seventh Sister, the Fifth Brother, and the Grand Inquisitor,”

“I’ve never seen the Grand Inquisitor. Though, none of you have autonomy over me.”

The Second Brother stood still for a brief second, his shoulders rose as he took in a big sigh. The hand behind his back hoisted to his helmet, the duraplast clicked and the mechanisms of the mask hissed as it loosened up. This was your first time seeing the bare face of the Inquisitor.

A human male, his fair skin was an open book written with scars and bruises—a few of which were by your own hand during the exercises—a pair of brown irises twinkled but you detect the apathy in them—the expression in them was a dramatic contrast to what you imagined him to be without that mask. He seems to be growing out his shaven head, there was a short yet noticeable length of hair. From his complexion, you wagered he’d be in his thirties. He bent down while keeping his helmet in one hand and tried to parlay with you in getting out of your cell.

“While you sit in these sorry walls, we have perfect autonomy over you,” he raises his free hand, a single finger extended. For each word or two, he poked your forehead to make sure you got the point. “No matter what you think.”

“You’re still not going to make me,”

He did a series of facial expressions to highlight his mock pensiveness: rolling his eyes, bobbing his head as he made a squeaking noise with his tongue against his teeth.

“Well, we don’t have the time to be very difficult, little thorn,” he clicked. “Unless, of course, we can ask your sweet Cal Kestis to make some arrange—!”

In the blink of an eye, you repeated the same action with the Second Brother, only this time you’re using two hands to choke him using the Force. They’ve exploited your mind by using Cal and whatever predicate they can come up with to trigger you—and they loved it when you’re easily stimulated by the mere mention of his name.

They’ve fashioned you into their personal time bomb and plaything altogether, saying the “magic word” to make a puppet of you and your emotions.

“Provoke me again with his name and what you plan to do with him—it’s your neck I’m snapping next!” you angrily growled.

The Second Brother tried to fight your chokehold, but he did it with more grace and dignity that he can afford. It was never your intention to instill fear, but your aggression is what cements it to everyone in this fortress. You expected him to gag, but you heard hints of snickering while he claws at his neck; regardless, you continued choking him.

A few more minutes lapsed before you decided to let him go out of your own volition. He coughed as he fell lower to your level, you’re practically looking down on him right now as he catches his breath.

Look how pathetic… you thought.

Over the Second Brother’s shoulder, you spotted the Fifth Brother standing in front of the door, unamused and grumbling like a freighter’s engine. You shot him the same bitter look you gave to the Stormtrooper and the Second Brother.

“One last time, [Y/N], I personally don’t like repeating myself—or anyone else, for that matter.”

The Second Brother regained his composure, dusted off his armor, and stood by. When you didn’t obey the Fifth Brother, he took matters to his own hands—literally. Shoving past the Second Brother, the other Inquisitor dragged you out of your cell.

“Get up and follow.”

The Second Brother hooked his arm around yours and followed the Fifth Brother.

“Where are you taking me?”

“No questions. Just follow.”

They escorted you to the dojo again. Waiting at the center of the room is the Seventh Sister, this time she wasn’t wielding an electrobaton, she was holding her own red haloed saber. The Second Brother shoved you away to face her; she raises her hand, in it was a weapon and she tossed it to you.

Your fingers trembled, you reluctantly wrapped them around the hilt. The steely coldness eventually warmed up around your palm. The glossy, dark grey finish distorted your reflection when you held it level to your face. The female Inquisitor stepped back—so did her two other companions—and ignited her saber. Your heart dropped to your feet when you heard two more buzz in succession. All of a sudden, your knees felt wobbly, you spun around, looking at the crimson rods of light glowering over their sinister faces.

“Go on and fight us,” the Seventh Sister initiated.

She didn’t want to hear anything from you. She immediately put herself in a stance, and then the two other followed. Having no choice, you did the same—one push of a button ignited a single beam, until you spotted the second switch and the latter half emitted out of its cylinder.

The three of them ganged up on you, but it was the Second Brother and Sixth Sister who were more aggressive with you. The Fifth Brother fought with great calculation and precision, conserving his strength for the next attack only to overwhelm you while assisting the other two. Lost in the thrill of the fight, the same burst of energy returned to you.

It was addictive. You didn’t know it was poisonous, and yet you kept on using it to your advantage. You know it to be wrong, but you cannot will yourself to break away from it. Like a leech, you’ve bitten into it.

And you liked it.

“Raaarrgh!!” the Seventh Sister roared as she swings down her saber.

You deflected the two with both ends of your given saber and pushed them back. You recompose yourself into a much more proper stance, then fixate on the Seventh Sister; you’re able to match her strength—if not her caliber—and equal your odds in this duel. However, you still have the Second Brother to deal with.

“Whoa, look at her go, Sister!!” the Second Brother cackled.

The Seventh Sister comes charging right towards you, but she was blocked at the last second, and before she could even pull away to afford an attack—you planted your sole of your shoe flat onto your stomach. She staggered and clutched her torso with one hand; quickly, you turn your attention to the Second Brother, who was evidently much feistier than Seventh Sister. He took most of your time—a pair of dual-ended sabers cutting through the air, their lights curving as they’re swung by the wielders, and sparks flew to light up the rest of the room.

“I guess the tough girl is back now, huh, little thorn!? Cal Kestis would be so impressed! You could practically kill him for abandoning you!”

That did it. Relying again once more on that intoxicating energy that granted you the strength of five Jedi Masters at best, a massive push of the Force sent everyone flying—even the hulking, six-feet-or-so Fifth Brother wasn’t spared by that immense wave of energy!

Only you remained standing in the circle, you looked around—there were so many targets to choose from! You had a vendetta for each one of them. You strode towards the one who gave out the taunt first—the Second Brother—while he was still shaking off the nausea, he reacted at the last minute and lousily deflected your hits.

Left end, right end… they all flung to his direction and he could not keep up with the speed of your wielding while suppressed of fighting space. He could only block you for so long.

When you sensed his sword arm becoming weak, his jawbone met the hard sole of your shoe and rendered him incapacitated. Next was the Seventh Sister, she was just about to hoist herself up back on her feet until she saw you sprinting toward her—she had time, albeit little of it, to evade you but your sabers still clashed. She kept up with your pace—all the twirls and flashy footwork, she matched it all—but she was overwhelmed by how heavy your attacks dealt. You bore your weight on her as she deflected you and never has she ever felt so intimidated in all her life! Your eyes—now devoid of empathy and flooded with rage—blended perfectly with the redness of the saber. You were satisfied when you saw the Seventh Sister struggling, it’s plastered all over her face!

“Oh, look at you, the shrewd sister is overtaken,” you taunted, basically parroting the Second Brother’s trademark singsong. “By a damn prisoner! Hah! How does it feel to have your pride stabbed right into its gut, huh?”

Before she could even react and respond, you staggered the female Mirialan again and this time she stayed down—your fist to her cheek made sure of it. The third and final enemy: the Fifth Brother. It was brawn against brains. Strength versus dexterity. After all, what good is brute strength if you can’t even utilize it efficiently?

“Come on, big guy—I’m wide open!”

The Fifth Brother wasn’t a fan of being taunted. He charges on like a deranged Reek, his saber brandished up in the air, ready for an overhead strike but you slipped away in the blink of an eye and slashed him from behind. All three of them exchanged glances with one another and then nodded in agreement, as if they’ve had a Plan Z all along; three Inquisitors come charging towards you, but before they could lay a finger on your hair, you planted your fist hard into the tiled floor—your knuckles swelled and then bled the same time the tiles cracked.

At first, the cracks stayed only within the radius of your fist, until they multiplied and spread. From thin crosshairs to actual breakages along the surface, the marble broke into shards and was sent flying with the current of the Force energy that sourced from your punch—like seashells tugged by the waves as they’re beached to the shoreline. The shards cut through the Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother’s cheeks, they had to shield themselves with their hands—consequentially getting their palms and fingers nicked as well.

It was too strong for them to fight, rendering you untouchable until the wind died down. The loaned lightsaber which you used so skillfully fell from your grasp and clattered to the floor.

Silence. Soft, tired gasping of air. And then a single, slow series of applause followed.

Everyone searched for the applauder.

The Grand Inquisitor.

He was hauntingly terrifying, alright. Ashen as bone, blood-red streaks painted on parts of his face, and a pair of topaz-gold eyes. He walked past the felled Inquisitors and stood in front of you—his height obviously lumbered over you that you had to step back to fully acknowledge him and look him in the eyes without breaking your back.

“Well, well,” he cooed, bringing his hands behind his back. “It seems that we have a new face among us.”

You panted one last time, and used the Force to bring the haloed saber back to your hand. You poised your demeanor in front of the Pau’an, and with a dark, sinister grace—you bend your knee, the black, weathered saber is presented in your hand to the Grand Inquisitor. A smirk curled along his ribbed skin, showing a corner of his jagged, pointed teeth.

“Welcome to the fray, Twelfth Sister.”

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starscheme · 4 years ago

Text

Change My World

Chapter Twenty-Four: A Spectacular Stage Show Fiasco Steven and Spinel had stood in the alleyway for several minutes now. Making sure to stay quiet, Steven held Spinel close as she steadied her breathing with her face still buried in his shirt.

“...you....haven’t said anything in a while...” Spinel mumbled into his chest.

Chuckling lightly, Steven had a bashful smile as he sighed, “I...was a little worried I’d say something stupid...”

Spinel took a deep breath, allowing herself to focus a bit more on the beat of Stevens heart before she decided to pull away. Both seemed quite nervous to face one another at the moment, but their nerves were rattle by something else when a delighted scream from the nearby crowd reached their ears.

“A MERMAID!” Shouted what sounded like an amazed little girl.

Steven and Spinel both jerked, waiting in anxious silence to make sure no one was looking or pointing at them. With a cautious sigh of relief, Steven stepped forward to peek out of the alley and back towards the festival.

“...looks like they’re setting up something on stage...” he whispered as Spinel tried to peek over his shoulder on her tip toes.

“Is it a real Mermaid? Or some weird show?”

Steven shook his head, “I’m not sure. ...usually the only way to actually see a mermaid would be at the Zoo in the Capital, but even then I heard it’s hard to get tickets. That’s why it was such a big event when you showed up on our shores.”

Spinel watched as the crowd bustled towards the large stage. It seemed as if the whole festival had stopped just to see the show. She decided that she couldn’t just sit back and wait. If there really was another Mermaid there, Spinel had to see for herself. She pushed her way past Steven and would have vanished in the crowd if Steven hadn’t caught her by the wrist.

“What are you doing?” Asked Steven in an urgent whisper.

“We have to go and see!” Insisted Spinel, matching his tone. “I can’t see the stage from here.”

“You can’t be serious, if there IS an actual Mermaid on stage, what if she spots you and recognizes you?!”

“Not all Mermaids know each other, Steven,” huffed Spinel as she attempted to wriggle her wrist free.

“Spinel, seriously, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Even if it’s a real Mermaid, we won’t be able to help without exposing you to danger. In a city like this, we will definitely be put on a wanted list.”

Though she knew Steven was right, she needed to know for sure. How could they just turn their backs to it and pretend nothing was going on. “You’re hurting me,” whined Spinel, prompting Steven to quickly release her wrist.

Spinel stuck out her tongue and dashed off into the crowd. “Seriously?!” Exclaimed Steven when he realized she’d tricked him. He tried his best to follow her pink/strawberry hair as she pushed her way through the crowd, but since he had a bigger build, Steven found it much harder to get through to her.

“—and I tell ya, folks,” continued the young man on stage as Spinel finally shoved her way within earshot. “You’ve all heard the Mermaid tales, but this one has by far exceeded anything I ever heard. I was told nearly ten ships went down in pursuit of the creature. Though the beast has been deprived of water for many days now, we ask that you keep small children out of arms reach of the stage. You never know if a Mermaid will still be able to attack on sheer force of will.”

Spinel felt her heart beat begin to speed up rapidly. This didn’t sound like some fake show for entertainment. They must have had an actual mermaid.

The crowd murmured in excitement, some children complained that they couldn’t stand closer while other kids cried, thinking the Mermaid was going to eat them. As the curtains began to draw back, the sound of the chattering crowd slowly started to die out when the opened curtains revealed a large, gray skinned Mermaid with rainbow colored strands of dreadlocks. Her tail resembled that of a shark and her body was covered in scars from old wounds, but they weren’t as alarming to see as the new wounds that had been afflicted on her. Her powerful arms were bound by the wrists with thick iron shackles that connected to a large steel ball to keep her from moving. Though the shackles were clear unnecessary as the Mermaid looked as if she would drop dead any moment.

Her breathing was heavy and ragged, and several lashes from an apparent whipping were still bleeding along her torso and back.

Just looking at the scene made Spinel feel dizzy. She nearly swayed back as her knees grew weak, but she did her best to rally and regain her composure. This mermaid was indeed someone that Spinel knew. It would be difficult to forget someone like her.

“Bismuth...” whispered Spinel under her breath.

“A friend of yours?” Murmured a young woman from behind Spinel.

It was then that the disguised Mermaid felt something sharp press against her back. A knife? Even if it was, the weapons sudden appearance didn’t alarm her as much as the voice of her assailant.

“Elaine?!” She gasped, turning her head to peek back over her shoulder.

“Don’t turn around,” Elaine demanded, easing the knife forward, poking through Spinels dress and now penetrating her skin slightly, causing Spinel to jerk in response.

“H-how...? What are you doing here?!” Asked Spinel in a confused panic. Before her was an old friend we who was being cruelly put on Display and at her back was a knife, wielded by a former annoyance that she thought was left behind.

“After you tried to hurt me, a few people found me that actually believed me. Turns out, they’ve been looking for you. They confirmed everything I suspected.” Whispered Elaine. “Now, I’m going to take you to them. If you try anything funny, I’ll expose you in this crowd.”

Spinel wasn’t sure what to do. Glancing from side to side, Steven was no where to be seen and Bismuth was still barely conscious on stage. “...who is looking for me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Get moving...” hissed Elaine quietly.

Spinel tried desperately to think of anything that might get her out of this. She had to find Steven. Did Elaine already do something to him? Was he caught by whomever Elaine was working with?

As Spinel hesitated to move, trying to stall for time, an explosion seemed to go off somewhere in the distance and a voice rang out, “THE MERMAID IS USING IT’S MAGIC!”

Just like that, the crowd began to scatter in a panic. Mothers grabbed their children and ran, others stampeded was from the stage in fear, while some ‘brave’ tried to rush the stage in an attempt to stop the mermaid.

“Pl-please, ladies and gentlemen,” shouted the man on stage as he and some workers tried to stop the crowd from panicking and getting on stage. “Mermaids can’t use magic in this state! There’s no need to—“

Spinel didn’t waste any time. As soon as the panic started, she took advantage of the chaos and joined the crowd, jabbing back at Elaine with her elbow before running off with the flow of the frenzied citizens. Now, she had to find Steven. If only she hadn’t tricked him. Surely he never would have left her side if she didn’t insist on ditching him to see the stage.

People were shoving and slamming others down in an attempt to get as far from the stage as possible, it only got worse when another explosion went off. Everyone was scared and didn’t know which direction they should take, worried that they could get attacked from anywhere at this point.

“Steven! STEVEN!” Shouted Spinel as she did her best to maneuver her way through the crowd. If only she had more experience with these legs of hers. She wasn’t very good at dodging the others that bumped into her sides or the hands that were attempting to shove her out of the way. This made it even more difficult to find Steven amongst the madness.

Spinels desperate search for Steven was starting to seem hopeless amongst the entropy that ensued. Not to mention all the dust that had been riled up from the rushing crowd and nearby explosions. However, even through the mob of humans kicking up dirt, Spinel could see a distinct, bright pink color cutting through the crowd and prompting more screams from the humans as they darted out of its path.

Though shocked at first, Spinel was relieved to see Steven riding the pink Lion straight towards her with an extended hand. “I thought you said it wasn’t safe to bring him into the city,” shouted Spinel over the frantic cries around them as Steven grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her up into his lap, the Pink beast never breaking his stride.

“Kinda late for that now,” Steven replied, “he showed up when the explosions started! Was that the Mermaid?”

Spinel shook her head, “there’s no way! Bismuth can’t do anything like that!”

Steven wanted to point out that clearly Spinel did know the Mermaid on stage, but he’d wait until they got out of here. The biggest problem was the soldiers were now trying to quell the panic and of course a large Pink Lion with two passengers had caught their eye. Still, there was no turning back. They were already drawing attention. Why not take it a little further?

“Get to the stage!” Steven ordered, holding onto the Spinel to make sure she didn’t fall off as the Lion roared and made a quick turn to follow Stevens command.

Responding to the frenzy, soldiers were already up on stage, blocking several rioting humans from getting to the Mermaid while a few of them did their best to try and move the large creature. Steven’s eyes turned a bright pink as they approached the stage. He was going to try and push the soldiers back with this new power he had, but as it turned out, there was no need for it.

Just as Steven and Spinel reached the stage, Lars appeared behind one the soldiers handling the tired Mermaid and quickly dropped down to sweep under his feet, knocking the armored man off balance.

“It’s a pirate!” One of the soldiers called out before drawing his sword. A weapon that was quickly knocked out of his hand by a pink shockwave formed from the Lions roar, forcing the rest of the soldiers to fall backward.

“Thanks for the assist,” Lars greeted, quite pleased to see Steven and Spinel once again. Though a bit surprised by the Lion.

“Were you the one causing those explosions?!” Asked Steven while his Lion chomped through the iron chains that weighed Bismuth down and tied her to the stage.

“Bingo Bongo,” Lars replied with a snap of his fingers. “We had to create a distraction, didn’t we?”

“Steven!” Cried out a young woman as she shoved her way through some panicked humans.

Steven froze up when he saw her face. It was Elaine. So he hadn’t imagined it before. She really was here. But how? More importantly; why?

“You have to come with me,” Elaine pleaded, stepping over a guard that had been knocked out by Lions roar. “That Mermaid, she’s just using you! I heard it all from the others! You’ll die if you stay with her! I know there’s a powerful spell over you, but I can help you now!”

Lars wasn’t sure what this exchange had to do with the task at hand, but he couldn’t waste his time wondering. He took in a great deal of air to puff up his chest before shouting out, “let’s GO!” His booming voice formed a large, bright portal beside him, one which several of the Off Colors stepped out of and hurried to pull Bismuth inside.

While the Off Colors rescued Bismuth, Steven kept his focus on the brunette that pleaded with him. Was that really why she had followed them? Because she still thought he was under Spinels spell somehow? Steven tightened his grip on Spinel with one hand and with the other, he pat the Lions head, “don’t let her get any closer, boy.”

Elaine seemed shocked by Stevens reaction to her sincere bid for his safety. “St-Steven, there are people who want to help you!”

“You guys coming this time?” Lars asked suddenly, waiting to step into the portal, but pointing out the soldiers that were regaining consciousness.

Steven wasn’t sure where that portal was going to lead, but staying here was out of the question and at least he knew the Off Colors weren’t a threat to them. With a nod, Steven pat the Beasts head once more and it seemed to understand his request. The Lion leapt forward, rushing into the portal to escape the chaotic scene at the festival now.

“W-Wait!” Elaine screamed, trying to follow after them before Lars stepped through and the portal disappeared.

Once the portal faded into a wisp, a young man in golden yellow armor stepped out from backstage, accompanied by several soldiers in standard silver. Removing his helmet, the golden soldier was revealed to be Caden, the man Spinel had met just hours before.

“Sir, why did you let them go? They took the Mermaid...and they had a summoned Beast...” one of the soldiers pointed out in frustration. “This trap would have succeeded if you let us go after them...”

Caden smiled rubbing his chin as he stared in amusement at where the portal had been. He didn’t seem to be listening to his subordinate at all. “...Things are certainly getting more interesting than I thought they would...” he mumbled to himself.

#Steven Universe #steven universe fanfic #change my world #chapter 24 #mermaid #mermaid spinel #stevinel #stevinel fanfic #mermaid au #sorry it took so long

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redrobinhoood · 4 years ago

Text

the lakes | chapter 3, the only safe place

AO3 Link | 2,300 words (approx) | Chapter 1, Chapter 2, /end

Chapter summary: Tomorrow has come, and Fox steels himself to ask Riyo a difficult question

When Riyo woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a comm’s dial tone. The bed beside her was warm, but she found that she was alone in the room. She rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling as she listened to the conversation beginning in the other room.

“Fox. How are you healing?” It was the same vocal cords that produced Fox’s voice, but the patterns and inflections in the speech told her that it was Thire who Fox had called.

“Still hurting, but we’re getting there. How have you been?”

“Hanging in there. The Emperor has been calling on me less, which has been a load off my shoulders; I can’t look him in the eye any longer. We mainly talk through the Red Guard now.”

“And your new commanders?”

“Jek’s adjusting well. He’s not as competent yet as Stone was in the role, but I don’t have to babysit him.”

“Like Captain Seeley?”

“Commander Seeley. He’s not too bad, actually. But between him and Jek and my own workload, I understand why you were always throwing yourself into the line of fire.”

Fox laughed one of the few genuinely happy laughs that he saved for Riyo and his closest brothers. “Thanks, Thire.”

“How’s Riyo?”

Riyo sat up at the mention of her name. Fox had been right the other day, she needed to call Jek and Thire herself. She’d never realized how much she’d missed their friendship until it was gone. She wished that Fox hadn’t closed the door between their room and the main living space. Then again, she was still as naked as Fox had left her the night before.

“As wonderful and patient with me as ever. I don’t want to speak for her, but I think she likes it here. I think she’s happy. You need to talk to her yourself sometime.”

“I will. Or at least, I’d like to. We miss you guys.”

“And we miss you. Living without my brothers has been,” he paused to find the right word, “different. It’s a different world outside of Coruscant. Is there any news on our mole in the Senate?”

“None yet. I’ve decided to back off for a while. If the Emperor is aware, I don’t think there’s much I can do.”

“No, probably not.” Fox agreed.

Riyo still hadn’t told him how aware the Emperor was. Fox had connected the dots on the Emperor’s involvement with the mole, but she hadn’t the heart to tell him that Thire had let slip to her that it had been the Emperor who had ordered Fox’s assassination. It was one thing to know corruption, it was another to find out that the man you had placed your absolute trust in had ordered your death.

“I need to go, Fox.”

“I understand. Stay safe, Commander Thire.” His voice filled with pride as he addressed his younger brother. Then the comm clicked off, and there was no more conversation for Riyo to listen in on. She stayed sitting as she listened to the clashing of kitchen utensils and pans, then to the heavy footsteps that she knew to be Fox’s as he approached the door.

The door to their room slid open and Fox entered, holding a tray that she recognized from their garage as the speeder tool tray. Today, it had been cleared of tools and cleaned of grease and a full breakfast sat on it. From his bare skin, save for his boxers, she assumed that the call had not been a holocomm. Then again, the clones were not known for their sense of personal modesty. It took Riyo a few moments more to process why Fox had brought a tray of food into their room.

“We’ll get crumbs on the sheets!” She protested.

“We’ll make it laundry day, then.” Fox said as he slowly sat down beside her, setting the tray before them on the sheets.

She sighed, giving in without protest. “Let me at least throw some clothes on.”

She could feel Fox’s eyes following her as she crossed the room, tracing down her curves as she reached for a wheat-gold nightgown from the duffel bag that still contained her clothes. She added hangers to her mental list of items to buy. They had a closet in their room, but with no hangers its racks sat empty. Once she had slipped the soft gown over her head, she made her way back to Fox and took in the food before her.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” She asked when she had settled into his side.

“Yes, but I’d love to hear more.”

She laughed before she raised a bite of food to her mouth, taking joy in the look of pure adoration in Fox’s eyes. She chewed slowly, dragging the scene out as long as possible. “I love you in ways I can’t describe in Basic. The only suitable words are the lyrics and hymns of those who came before as they described the love of the gods.”

Fox’s look of adoration wavered, his lips trembling slightly as he took her words in. “I have no gods; clones have no gods. But I would like to take yours so that I can begin to express my love for you in the same ways.”

“Then has tomorrow come?”

“Not yet. Let’s eat, then sit by the lake.”

“For someone who grew up on a water planet, you can’t get enough of it.” She laughed.

Fox looked offended for a moment before shaking his head and laughing with her. “It’s not the same and you know it. Besides, it’s been five years since I’ve been home.” This ‘home’ was different than the one he had uttered last night. That ‘home’ had been full of love, their love. This ‘home’ was full of family, but no love. As if he could sense her thoughts, Fox continued. “But it’s not my home anymore.”

“What is?” She hoped it was this home.

“You.”

Riyo blinked. She hadn’t considered that possibility.

“You are my home.” Fox reached over and gently ran the back of his fingers across her collarbone, passing over the marks he had left behind the night before. “The only safe place I can ever hope to return to.”

“Fox.” She whined.

He smiled as he leaned in to kiss her. She leaned in to meet him, parting her lips so that he could kiss her however he pleased. He still kissed like he had the first time; soft and restrained and so very frustrating in his tenderness. Fox had been bred for war, for destruction, for killing, but all those parts of him were gone every time he bent down to press his lips against her. Fox was never so gentle with anything in the galaxy as he was with her. It almost made her feel bad for the bruises she had left scattered down his neck. Almost.

“The food’s getting cold.” Fox murmured into her mouth when it became clear that she had no intention of breaking apart.

She gave in and released his hair from her fist so that he could draw away from her. “Can’t let that happen now can we?”

---

The path to the lake was soft enough that one could walk down it in bare feet. So they did. Riyo in her wheat-gold nightgown and Fox in the loose red shirt and grey pants that he had once worn around her family home on Pantora, when they had stopped lying to Riyo’s mother. Riyo didn’t believe that Fox had any sentimental attachment to clothing, barring the one set of blacks he had kept with his phase II armor- and still, that was a uniform, an idea, even propaganda, not clothing- but she wondered if it had been purposeful.

Fox’s arm was wrapped around her waist as they walked, his strides shortened so that she could easily keep pace. It may have not even been a conscious decision on his part, just another part of his training. Either way, they walked together, neither’s arm slipping from around the other, as they made their way down the path, then down the side trail that led to the mossy roots by the lake which they had claimed as their spot.

When Fox sat down, he ran his arm along the line of her waist before catching her wrist, pulling her down with him until she lay across his torso, one hand stroking down her back, the other holding resting on the base of her neck. She could hear Fox’s rapid heartbeat under her cheek and patiently waited in silence for him to speak.

“I want to take vows with you.”

Riyo’s breath caught in her throat and her body stiffened under Fox’s touch.

“Not marriage, necessarily, I don’t believe that I could legally marry you anyways considering I’m some other being’s personal property. But we’ve been together for two years now. We live together. If you’ll have me, I would like to take a vow with you.”

Riyo was glad that she was nestled in Fox’s arms so that when she spoke, surprising even herself, she couldn’t see the look of crushing betrayal on his face. “No.”

Fox’s gentle stroking ended. “Okay.”

She’d have given anything to never hear how defeated his voice was in that single word again. “Wait, Fox, that’s not what you think it means.” She’d have to face the damage she had wrought. She pushed herself up to face him, hesitantly taking his face in her hands. Fox’s expression was drawn into a look of pain, but underneath it was the expression she feared more. Acceptance. “Fox. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I also want what’s best for you.”

Fox reached up and tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t. When we met, Fox, you were a soldier. You served the Republic under an oath that you never had a choice in taking.”

“I have a choice now.”

“And I want to respect that. And I know that this is the most comfortable thing for you. You were born to take oaths without question, to define yourself by them. I want you to take a few months, just a few, without being bound to anyone. Not the Republic, not the Empire, not me. Just take a few months to be yourself, free from any covenant.” She was really crying now, and Fox’s soft touch across her cheeks had ceased as he took in what she was saying. He had yet to break eye contact with her, and she could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to find a response. She decided it would take him too long without more incentive. “After that, I’ll have you, Fox, if you’ll have me.”

That was enough. She watched the tension leave his body all at once as he brought his hand from the side of her face to cup the back of her head and bring their foreheads together. She let her body melt into his, her hands on his jaw sliding back to wrap around his head until they were as close as they could be.

“Okay.” He said with all the hope that had been lacking when he had uttered the word before. “Okay. Yeah. I promise-.”

Riyo raised a hand to his lips. “Don’t promise. Just be mine.”

“I am yours.”

She almost chided him for making another promise before she realized that to him it wasn’t a promise, but a fact. “And I am yours, Fox.”

And for the man who had never owned anything before in his life, that was more than enough.

---

Riyo would think back on that moment for years. It came back to her the night before she and Fox took their vows, when she had brought her mother down to the lakeside to show her what her daughter’s life had become. It came back to her the day that Fox had brought home a handful of credits for the first time, when she had flung herself into his arms and kissed him despite the grease coating his body. And it came back to her tonight, when she was draped across Fox’s body on their couch, watching a holodrama. The two empty cups on the floor and the smell of alcohol on his breath served to remind her of what he had overcome.

When a news break began to roll, Fox turned the volume down and raised a fist to his mouth as he yawned.

“You’re turning into an old man.” Riyo said fondly, reaching up to run her fingers through his greying hair. The years of stress Fox had endured had not been kind.

“I’m only fifteen, Riyo.”

“Almost sixteen. And here I am, nearly ten years your senior.”

“What a cradle robber.”

“Horrendously so. Give it a few more years and that will really be funny.” She took in his face for a few more moments. “No. I’m going to find a way to save you.”

Fox smiled down at her confidently. “I know.”

The news break ended, and Riyo lay her head back on Fox’s shoulder as the holodrama started back up. When Riyo found her hand pressing on the fading scar in the middle of Fox’s torso, she took a moment to run her fingers over it and say a quick ‘thank you’ to the Goddess for Fox’s recovery. Her husband had healed, they had been able to provide for themselves, and Riyo’s world was at peace. For the former senator who had once held a world in her hands and the clone who had never known anything but war, this was enough.

#foxiyo #commander fox #riyo chuchi #commander thire #my fics #the lakes fic

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avehi-the-adamant · 4 years ago

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Justified

((Co-written with @kidcatgemini / @miernethepersevering, and @prancingmad / @nedemus. Ravanhi belongs to cursedkat! Follow her on twitter!))

~*~

The High Vindicator felt largely out of place. His glistening armor, imbued with the Light’s radiant power, stood out all the more so in the conservative and reverent Stormwind Cemetery. He recalled visiting this place once before, laying to rest an old friend from the Northrend campaign. He felt a sense of shame wash over him, realizing he hadn’t visited since; had he really been so busy? Too busy? Even when he was in Stormwind for business… he realized now he’d never come by. His golden glance turned towards the humble grave plot of Marshal Damien Townsend, who gave his life to put an end to the Lich King’s reign. His brow furrowed, resolutely - he would visit him today, after all this.

All this, of course, being hearing out Avehi the Adamant, who had been raising the dead around Azeroth for - based on second-hand accounts - she felt was a just and noble reason. The Draenei’s skin crawled at the very notion. A good reason to raise the dead? He couldn’t fathom one! A part of him had already decided her fate, and wanted to see Avehi locked away for what she’d done. Raising people who deserved rest, like Zaalesh and others. Khanaros’ blood boiled at the thought of such defilement. But the other part knew that justice couldn’t be served without hearing the whole story. Bits and pieces heard from others weren’t sufficient in such a case as this. He wanted to hear Avehi explain herself in person, before making his mind up fully.

“I… appreciate you coming with me, Mierne.” he turned, addressing his partner. “I know you’re here mostly to see that Avehi’s heard out fully and fairly… but I like to think you’re here for me, too.”

He smirked, reaching over to give the shaman’s hand a playful squeeze.

“I am here for you both, of course!”

Mierne leaned into Khanaros’ side with a light chuckle. She’d remained oddly silent, caught up in her own thoughts. She looked up at her partner, her gaze showing the sincerity of her words. It was true, her presence here was to assure Avehi would be fairly heard. While she didn’t know the full story behind the Ebon Knight’s actions, she was most certain they’d been done for good reason. Avehi was youthful and brash, but her heart was always in the right place.

Khanaros, on the other hand, didn’t have the opportunity to remain neutral on the subject. She understood his difficult position in the matter, and the great responsibility of doing what was best for his people weighing on his shoulders.

“No matter what happens, I appreciate you doing this for her… for me. I realize this isn’t normal procedure, and that you are going out of your way…”

Her arm moved around his torso in a comforting embrace.

“Avehi is many things. She has been through so much. But through it all, she has always been an upfront and honest Draenei.”

"Mm. I appreciate honesty, and being up-front, of course," Khanaros grunted, "but there will be more to it than simply whether or not she tells the truth. If what she hopes to achieve is not commensurate with the Light…"

He cut the thought short, golden gaze cast upward as he beheld a trio of inbound winged creatures. Two were boney, skeletal creatures brimming with necrotic energies. It wasn't hard to guess who commanded those unholy beasts… The third was far more recognizable even at a distance; Argonas and his nether drake, glistening in the night sky. The three of them descended without delay, each landing in succession a short distance from Mierne and Khanaros. The High Vindicator nodded once.

"... I suppose we will learn, one way or the other." he grunted again, before stepping forward to meet the three.

Avehi dismounted Shinigosa promptly, before sending the frostwyrm back up to the sky. The ground was no place for such a creature; already enduring a burial beneath it, Shinigosa was quite keen on flying, and enjoying the freedom she felt in doing so. And Avehi was not one to deny her draconian partner such enjoyment. Her eyes settled on Khanaros, a beacon of Light in the quiet and dimly lit cemetery. One of two, now, as Argonas set hoof on the cobbles with little regard for the clamor each step caused. He had taxed Avehi's patience throughout their journey. Quite a bit beforehand, too. So much so, she couldn't be bothered to spare him a glance.

Instead, her eyes turned to Mierne. A smile graced her lips for what felt like the first time in a long time. Nedemus wasn't lying; he really had reached out to her in this matter. She turned to offer the Worgen an appreciative nod, before she approached her dear old friend.

"Mierne… I'm sorry you're somehow caught up in this." she dipped her head. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad to see you here."

Mierne’s reply came in the form of a warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around the Death Knight, giving her that motherly comfort she no doubt needed.

“Don’t you worry about me. I’m just happy to see that you’re safe.”

She leaned in to whisper in her ear so that the two Light suffused beings wouldn’t hear.

“I know Vindicators can be exhausting to work with, but give them a bit of patience today, hm? I am here to assure you are heard.”

Placing a soft kiss on her friend’s cheek, she offered an encouraging smile, before stepping back and finally nodding a greeting to Argonas and Nedemus.

“Thank you both for assuring her safety here.”

Nedemus stepped off of Obelisk, as the skeletal gryphon dispersed, burying itself down into the ground away from the cemetery. The worgen made sure to keep ahead of Argonas, already tired of the ridiculous views that spewed from his mouth, as he took his place beside Avehi, nodding to Mierne. “Of course. Though, I think all parties involved-” He glanced towards the brash young Draenei once more. “- myself and Avehi included, should agree no weapons drawn in this place.”

He said, letting out a small snort as he crossed his arms, nostrils flaring a bit in frustration, but masking his actual intent…

“Out of the question!” Argonas interjected. “Should the need arise, I will not hesitate to draw my sword against the likes of you. I think it better that you agree not to give a reason for me to do so!”

“Calm yourself, Vindicator.” Khanaros stepped forward, eyes on the younger male. “Remember to temper your frustrations, yes? Control your emotions, do not allow them to control you.”

He offered a warm, settling smile to his former trainee, placing a hand on his plated shoulder in a welcoming manner. He nodded once, then looked to Nedemus - sparing the worgen such familiar gestures as putting hands on him, but acknowledging him positively nonetheless.

“Argonas, Nedemus, I echo Mierne’s sentiment; thank you both for seeing Avehi here safely.” he dipped his head in appreciation. “That you are able to set aside your differences for a common goal speak well of both of you, and your reverence for seeing justice done.”

Argonas exhaled a sigh, following his mentor’s counsel in calming himself. He could feel the tension manifest in knots along his neck and shoulders - a burden he’d carried far longer than just this mission. The High Vindicator always could read him well. Humbled, he nodded in response, casting a more amicable glance towards Nedemus… then to Avehi. His brow still furrowed, but the expression was much softer than usual. He was trying.

Nedemus glanced towards Avehi, upon realizing that indeed, this ragtag group of Draenei and Dog were alone in the cemetery. His gaze switched back to Argonas, watching him as they spoke.

“And you, Avehi,” Khanaros turned from Argonas and Nedemus back to Avehi and Mierne, “I appreciate you agreeing to meet here - from what I’m told, a more comfortable, neutral setting given the circumstance?”

Avehi, too, had calmed significantly in the presence of an old friend. Mierne was a comfort to her on even the worst of days. It was fortunate, too - without her trusted friend there to quell her bristly, defensive demeanor, Avehi couldn’t imagine this exchange going well at all. She dipped her head politely, amicably, to the High Vindicator as he acknowledged her.

“Mm, it was an appealing enough invitation. In that… the alternatives were unacceptable.” she put as politely as her irritation would allow. “But nonetheless, I’m here. Let’s get this over with, shall we? What do you wish to know?”

“Everything.” came Khanaros’ vague, but direct response. “What has driven you to do what you’re doing? Why would you raise so many people like Vindicator Zaalesh from death?”

Avehi sighed, tail flickering again. For a second time, she found herself justifying her actions to entities she very nearly reviled. People whose judgment was skewed, albeit in different ways. She leveled her gaze at Khanaros, as if appraising him. The Ebon Blade, at least, had some familiarity with the afterlife. But how could he possibly understand? Would he see this all the same as Argonas did; that Draenei, and other adherents of the Light, should be immune to the machinations of the afterlife? Her eyes narrowed for a brief second, in frustration and disgust. Her words would fall on deaf ears here. Just as the Light blinds, it also deafens. All of this would be a waste of time! She opened her mouth to speak… but hesitated, glancing once more to Mierne.

Mierne was different from these Light-revering Draenei that summoned and brought her here. Different from most other Draenei. She was patient, open minded, and most importantly willing to give the benefit of the doubt in matters she didn’t understand. Above all that… she was here. She made an effort to see that Avehi would be heard out thoroughly and fairly. An effort Avehi couldn’t waste… if Mierne was trying, Avehi could try too. The Death Knight cleared her throat, and began to explain.

“There is a veil between this existence and the existence beyond death. We Death Knights walk both worlds, and therefore can pass through the veil in ways the living cannot. It is… not unlike how the Auchenai would commune with the departed.” she kept her composure calm, and spoke slowly and succinctly. “When a living soul dies, it journeys to an afterlife commensurate with their worth. Noble souls ascend to planes of righteousness and honor. For Draenei, this is joining with the Light. For elves, returning to nature. It differs for different peoples.”

Khanaros nodded slowly, taking in the information. On some level he knew all this; he thought back to his youth, all those millenia ago on Argus. Back then, the Eredar’s concept of the afterlife didn’t include joining with the Light. It was much more… ambiguous. Nonetheless, all this seemed proper and plausible. He motioned for Avehi to continue.

“Less-than noble souls… those of malicious and terrible beings, regardless of the peoples… those souls are dragged down into a place we call the Maw. Their eternal existences there is one of torment and suffering.” Avehi elaborated. “It is a realm of pain the likes of which no mortal can fathom. As a creature whose existence is wrought with pain and torment… trust me when I say the Maw is as terrible as it could ever get. The Legion, the Old Gods… none of it compare to the Maw.”

“I see… Justice permeates beyond this veil, and those deserving of it are punished for transgressions, yes?” Khanaros affirmed - so far, this all made sense to him. “But what does this have to do with your actions here on Azeroth?”

Avehi shook her head, brow furrowing.

“A few months ago, when I was traversing through this veil… I sensed something. A disturbance of some kind. I didn’t know exactly what. A surge of power… and yet an absence of it? It didn’t make sense.” she grunted in latent frustration at the memory. “I took it upon myself to investigate, worried it was some plot of the Ebon Blade’s, happening beyond the notice of the war-torn factions of the Horde and Alliance. But I came to learn even they didn’t know, and shared in my desire to discover what was happening.”

“And… what is happening?” Khanaros pressed.

“Justice… is not being served.” Avehi stated. “For reasons we still don’t know, all souls - even noble souls - are being pulled into the Maw to suffer eternally.”

“What? How is that possible?” came the High Vindicator’s skeptical questioning.

“I said we still don’t know!” Avehi snapped, reflexively.

She cleared her throat, recollecting herself before continuing. Nedemus stepped to her side, bringing up his hand and placing it on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her as best he could in this situation. The Draenei nodded in appreciation to Nedemus, before straightening. She leveled her gaze to the High Vindicator once more, and continued.

“That is… it’s hard to be certain. Even to the undead, the majority of processes and machinations of the afterlife are largely shrouded in mystery. We don’t know much at all… but we certainly know more than most living.” she corrected, as politely as she could muster. “This even came as something of a surprise to Exarch Ravanhi of the Auchenai. She and her ilk have sensed this disturbance as well, but lack the capacity to scry beyond the veil that they once had. The capacity the Ebon Blade yet holds, at least somewhat.”

“Ravanhi.” Khanaros repeated the name under his breath.

He was familiar with the Exarch; a fellow Argus-born Draenei, one of few still around. Khanaros recalled Ravanhi as a gentle soul and a curious mind. Her days on Argus were spent as a humble priestess contemplating the nature of existence itself. That passion and wisdom served her well as a High Priestess of the Auchenai on Draenor, and again in more recent days serving as a diplomat to the Kaldorei people. He’d always found her to be polite and thoughtful… yet tormented in a way. Lonely and reclusive, Khanaros got the sense the suffering of their people resonated much deeper with her over the nigh-countless years. But knowing her, she’d never let such despair claim her. Not while there remained others in need.

He grunted, nodding slowly as he refocused his attention to the Death Knight before him. It was both curious and comforting that Avehi had sought out the Auchenai concerning such a severe-sounding matter. If nothing else, it spoke positively of her intentions; were she raising the dead for some nefarious purpose, interactions with the Auchenai would be the last thing she’d want. And if someone as spiritually-attuned as Ravanhi also felt the strange disturbance Avehi spoke of… that surely lent credence to her story.

“You know this Exarch, sir?”

Argonas piped up, if only to break up the silence that permeated the cemetery during the contemplative moment. He furrowed his brow, luminous eyes glancing between his honored mentor and traitorous sister. They settled on the latter, scrutinously; this was the first he was hearing of any Auchenai contact! Was she making it up…?

“I know of her, yes.” Khanaros nodded to Argonas, before exhaling a sigh. “So… if I am assuming correctly, Avehi, you’re raising these people as a means to prevent them from being trapped in the Maw?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” Avehi affirmed with a single nod. “Until such time as I can discern a better way, raising them is the only means to keep them from being lost forever.”

“And… you are certain that existence in the Maw is a worse fate than an existence of undeath?” he asked, brow furrowed. “How can you be sure of this?”

“I’ve seen it.” she scowled. “Through great concentration and effort, I was able to… project myself, for lack of a better term, to the Maw. I was looking for someone specific… and found someone else instead.”

“Looking for who?”

Avehi glanced to Argonas, and stifled a grunt.

“Sinafay. A Vindicator from alternate Draenor, and a friend of mine.” she explained. “I thought I sensed her, which would’ve meant she had died. I went to the Maw to find her, and maybe ask where she died so I could…”

Avehi shook her head, letting the thought finish itself. No one present had any illusions as to what she was doing now, anyway. She’d been honest enough about it. Argonas’ brow furrowed deeper still as he peered at Avehi. That she would even consider raising Sinafay - Orc-lover or not - was atrocious!

“And… you found someone else instead?” Khanaros asked, keeping the exchange on track.

“I did, yes.” Avehi stated, eyes still affixed, unblinking, at the younger Vindicator. “Sinafay. But from this timeline. Argonas’ wife.”

“LIES!”

Argonas had heard enough! Too much to remain passive anymore! He stepped forward towards Avehi, fists clenched!

“How dare you implicate my wife in your deceit? How dare you even speak her name with your defiler’s mouth!?”

“Argonas,” Mierne was quick to get between the Vindicator and Avehi.

Nedemus retracted, stepping back. He had begun to intercept Argonas’ movements, but stopped as he noticed Mierne step in. His foot slid back to position, his gaze glancing towards Avehi as he waited to see if the shaman could handle the zealous fool.

Her hands came up to his chest in an effort to stop his advance. Even though they were no longer intimate, she hoped their friendship was enough for her words to calm him. Her eyes held nothing but concern for the younger Vindicator. If anyone knew how difficult Sinafay’s passing had been for him, it was her. He’d spent a whole year on her island, in isolation, mourning her loss. She’d seen the devastation in his dealings with the alternate version of her.

“I understand your anger, but you must keep a clear head, yes? There is still much that needs to be learned before any judgment can be made” she kept her voice soft and soothing.

“Hmph! There is still much truth to be learned! None of these blatant lies serve to see justice met!” Argonas continued protesting. “This is an obvious attempt at manipulation! She seeks to establish some personal credibility to her twisted and outlandish tale!”

He stayed by Mierne’s hand, but showed no signs of calming or backing down. His piercing gaze still affixed accusingly to Avehi. The Death Knight returned his scowl defiantly, tail flickering in agitation as he went on his rant. Her eyes narrowed.

“It’s true, Argonas. Your wife is in the Maw.” she reiterated. “And the longer you try and hold me up, the longer she’ll suffer there!”

“SHUT UP!”

With his aggressive outburst, Argonas brusquely pushed past Mierne. Amber Light arced across his plated body, brought on by his unbridled rage. He brought a hand up to reach back behind him for his sheathed blade as he stomped towards Avehi!

Nedemus growled out, placing himself between Argonas and the Draenei, though his own blade stayed holstered on his back. “Stand down, Argonas.”

“Step aside, you accursed dog corpse! Or you shall be the first--”

“--Vindicator Argonas.”

He stopped in his tracks. The Light sparking off of the Vindicator subsided, Argonas almost wincing at Khanaros’ command. The High Vindicator didn’t raise his voice much louder than usual, but his tone struck with authority. Command. Disappointment. Slowly, Argonas’ hand lowered from the hilt of his crystalline sword, as he turned his gaze; an angered and vindictive glare at Nedemus, to a remissive and chastised leer as it settled on his old mentor.

“You brought Avehi here to be heard, correct?” Khanaros continued his reprimanding. “I will be the judge of the merit and intent of her words. Not you. Is that understood?”

“... As you say, High Vindicator.” Argonas replied, tone laced with begrudgement.

He scowled once more at Nedemus, then again at Avehi, before stepping back - an apologetic glance to Mierne as he passed her by again.

The shaman brought a comforting hand up to the Vindicator’s arm as he moved by her. There was no disappointment to be seen in her features as she looked up at him, only concern. His reaction towards Avehi’s words, while non-conductive to what they were trying to achieve, was understandable.

“I know this is difficult, but we must keep a clear head. I know Avehi well, and I do feel her words are worth investigating, at the very least. If she is right, and the unspeakable has befallen your wife, then there are other ways to verify that claim, I’m certain.”

She glanced to Khanaros.

“I do not have a connection with the afterlife… but another shaman… or perhaps a priest? I’m certain they have a connection with the dead. If you do not trust the words of Death Knights, then perhaps calling on a worthy soul that has recently passed could communicate what they see.”

Khanaros exhaled a sigh, as he looked Avehi over. Pensive, thoughtful… still not entirely convinced. He knew this would be a difficult thing to hear out and pass suitable judgment on, but more so than he had anticipated. There was a lot of new information to consider, to process, and to weigh against the greater good of not just his people, but all people in general. Slowly, he shook his head.

“A difficult claim to verify, seeing as none of us possess the capacity to venture into this place ourselves.” he lamented, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is there any way you can prove that you saw Argonas’ wife? Or… any of this, for that matter?”

Avehi huffed. There wasn’t an easy way to do that, unfortunately. Khanaros was right about that. For a moment, she considered his point of view; would she be skeptical if their positions were reversed? No… no she wouldn’t. She would trust Khanaros, and take his word as truth at face value. A courtesy he apparently wasn’t willing to extend to her. Her nose crinkled, nostrils flaring in frustration. This was a waste of time.

“Allow me to kill and raise Argonas. He can see her for himself. Then come back and tell you all about it.” she snapped, glowering. “If you won’t take my word for it, perhaps you’ll take his!”

“Mind yourself, Avehi. Take this seriously, as I have been. Your indignation is no more helpful than Argonas’ aggression!” Khanaros snapped back, with a scowl of his own. “Given what you’ve been doing, it’s not unfair to ask for some manner of verification of your claim.”

He shook his head, and cleared his throat.

“I will ask again - if you know of a way your claim can be proven to us, I would hear it.”

Avehi scoffed, eyes trailing to Argonas. She stared at him for a moment, before speaking again.

“I spoke with her. She is lost, and scared. She thought you died as well. And she worried she somehow deserved to be there, and that you separated from her and joined with the Light.” she explained, managing her tone. “I told her you yet lived. And she gave me a message for you. She told me to tell you - in her words, mind you - to ‘stop being a dumbass’. And she said to have some alcohol ready for her when you bring her home.”

Argonas’ scowl remained, brow only knitting further with every word. His hands tensed to fists, lip curling to bare his teeth. He grunted.

“... High Vindicator, you give this thing far too much leeway.” he growled. “I will not stand here while you permit Avehi to besmirch my deceased wife in such a manner!”

“Then… you are dismissed.”

Argonas snapped his gaze to the High Vindicator, in shock!

“--What?”

“You are dismissed, Argonas.” he repeated, firmly. “Your presence is no longer required.”

“B-But… what about her? What is your judgment?”

Khanaros glanced to Argonas briefly, before sighing and looking to Avehi once more.

“Either she’s fabricated an elaborate lie to buy herself time… or she’s expressing to us a terrible truth.” he stated. “I am choosing to believe the latter, in this case.”

Avehi, too, looked surprised. She hadn’t expected Khanaros to believe her. To trust her. With all she’d seen so far, she wasn’t sure he hadn’t already made up his mind. In affirmation, she nodded to the High Vindicator.

“I… thank you.” she uttered, hesitantly.

“This is outrageous!” Argonas shouted, in anger! “She has been raising the dead! She came here and slandered my dead wife! And you believe her blatant lies?”

“You find error in my judgment, Vindicator Argonas?” Khanaros asked, tone threatening.

He didn’t even glance at Argonas' way. Instead he approached Avehi, arms still crossed before him. His gaze was penetrating, and severe.

“She knows if she is lying, there will be no second chance. If I must send someone for her a second time, it will not be to invite her to be heard.” he replied to Argonas… and cautioned the Death Knight. “I will be following up with the Auchenai to verify these things. Perhaps even the Ebon Blade, if they’ll speak to me. But one way or another, I will find out the truth.”

He dipped his head to Avehi, stern expression softening just so.

“And I hope when I do, I will owe you both an apology and appreciation for bringing this to my attention.”

“Hm! Then I will expect both once you’ve looked into this yourself, High Vindicator.” Avehi smirked, bowing her head in return.

Behind them, Argonas was seething. His face contorted into a hideous scowl, as he clenched his fists so hard as to cause his gauntlets to begin buckling! His face flushed blue, vessels bulging beneath his skin. With an agitated grunt, he turned and stomped off - he had been dismissed, after all…

Mierne breathed a sigh of relief as Khanaros gave his verdict. She looked over to him as Argonas stomped off, giving him a smile and a nod of approval.

“I will allow you to finish your business, then. See you tonight,” she informed her lover, before following after the younger Vindicator.

Nedemus nodded softly towards Khanaros. “Thank you for allowing her the chance to speak, Khanaros… Argonas seemed to make it appear that she had no choice in the matter, that you were unreasonable. Doesn’t seem like he was representing you well.”

Khanaros nodded to Mierne as she departed, before looking to Nedemus. He exhaled a heavy sigh, and shook his head.

“Argonas has always been… direct. Presumptuous.” he shrugged. “Despite what you may have seen of him here tonight, he means well. Perhaps not for you specifically, but for the world as a whole.”

“Hmph. If that were true, he wouldn’t work so hard to interfere.” Avehi commented, with a light scoff. “This issue grows worse by the day, and there’s still no clear way forward.”

“Mm, there’s still no clear problem, to many of us. I would not have known any wiser if you had not told me of it.” Khanaros explained. “For Argonas… his reluctance to believe all this shouldn’t surprise you. If not because it is adverse to all he knows, because accepting it means accepting the painful truth that his wife is suffering… and that he’s helpless to stop it.”

The High Vindicator shook his head, as he stepped back from the pair of Death Knights. He regarded them both, appraisingly.

“We will be in touch. Not only as I follow up on what you’ve revealed here tonight, but I also expect if anything more develops… you’ll let me know, correct?”

Avehi nodded once more, before dipping her head respectfully.

“We will, Khanaros. It is… a relief… to have your support in all this.”

“Mm. It isn’t support just yet. Not until I learn more of it. But for now… I’ll do what I can to see to it that your investigations aren’t hindered.” he replied, brow furrowed. “I make no guarantees; going around raising the dead certainly doesn’t sit well with a vast majority of people. So being, I trust you’re at least keeping that to a minimum?”

“As much as I can.” Avehi nodded once more. “This existence isn’t any I would wish on anyone. But compared to the Maw…”

She trailed off, shaking her head. Khanaros nodded, understanding nonetheless. He turned from the two, and began to walk the cobbled path - deeper into the cemetery, rather than out of it.

“Mm. Light guide you, Avehi. Nedemus.” he bid them as he departed.

“I entrust you to do what is right.”

~*~

#character story #co-written #kidcatgemini #prancingmad #Khanaros the Inexorable #Mierne the Persevering #Avehi the Adamant #Nedemus #Argonas the Ironclad #Exarch Ravanhi #Warcraft #Alliance #Draenei #Worgen #Auchenai #Vindicator #Death Knight #Shadowlands #The Maw

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wordsinthenight · 5 years ago

Text

The Seventh Bride - Chapter 8

Summary: Reylo. Through a strange twist of fate, Rey suddenly finds herself married to the Marquess of the Reach, a mysterious man who she has never seen and whose name she has never learned. All she knows is this: the Marquess has been married six times before, and each time, the dragon Kylo Ren has devoured his wife within a year of their marriage.

Medieval AU based off of “Psyche and Eros” and “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” with a healthy dose of “Beauty and the Beast” thrown in for good measure.

First Chapter Previous Chapter AO3

Something was wrong when Rey left her room that morning. Something was missing when she stepped outside, something huge and obvious. She frowned as she stepped out into the crisp morning air, unable to put her finger on the strange feeling.

It didn’t take her long to put it together - Kylo Ren was not on the island. She scowled as soon as she realized - she had told him not to fly until his injury was healed, but he had clearly left the island not more than a day after she had told him not to. It would serve him right if he ripped the muscle further and lost the wing.

But the thought of him stranded in some far, hostile land brought Rey no pleasure.

He likes you - did you know that? Her husband had said to her last night. Rey still wasn’t sure if she believed him. He’s all but ignored everyone else in Takodana, but he enjoys it when you approach him.

She’d feel really bad if he ended up stuck out there.

Stupid lizard.

Rey huffed in frustration and turned on her heel, stomping back into the castle. If he was going to fly out against her orders, then she was going to give him a piece of her mind when he got back. She returned only a few minutes later, book in hand and a shawl around her shoulders, to flop down on the cobblestones and wait for the dragon.

It was a long wait. The sun rose high in the sky and then began to fall, as Rey sat fuming on the cobblestones. At some point, Maz came out with some bread, cheese, and a bowl of fruit. Rey didn’t tell her what she was doing, sitting outside in one of the courtyards and pretending to read, and Maz didn’t ask. She only shot the young woman an amused look and left to go about her business.

As the sun kissed the horizon, Rey’s anger began to turn to worry. Kylo Ren rarely left the island, and it was never for so long. What had happened to him out there?

Maz returned one more time to watch the sunset with her, bearing a tray with a steaming teapot. She filled both of the mugs and handed one to Rey, leaning against the wall to look out over the water. “Took him long enough,” she commented.

Rey’s eyes darted upwards, searching the orange sky for a dark shape on the horizon. However, she did not see Kylo Ren until Maz grabbed her chin and pointed her gaze downwards.

Kylo Ren hadn’t departed by sky, but by water. Only the top of his head poked out of the deep water of the lake, the air puffing out of his nostrils to fog the cool evening air. It was only as he approached the shore that he could touch the lakebed and began to rise out of the water. As he reached the docks and hauled himself onto the land, rivlets streamed off of his black scales, staining the shoreline with water.

Rey scowled fiercely and made to stand to confront him, her muscles cramping from sitting on the hard ground all day. Maz grabbed her arm and shook her head. “Not today,” she murmured.

Her voice caught the dragon’s attention, and his head swung to take the two of them in. He regarded them both for a moment, but rather than approach the pair, he ignored them in favor of beginning his nightly climb towards the cave high above the castle.

She wouldn’t let him get away that easily, though.

The next morning, after she heard the door click shut behind her husband, Rey was out of bed, knocking on the locked door leading towards her side of the castle. It took several minutes for Maz to answer - usually, she was the first one awake to make breakfast and let Rey out of her rooms, but when she finally opened the door, Maz was still in her dressing gown, looking grouchy and bleary-eyed.

��You’re not injured and you’re not dying,” Maz grumbled. “Why else are you knocking to get out so early in the morning?”

“I have to relieve myself,” Rey lied as she slipped past the palace’s caretaker.

Instead of heading directly for a chamber pot, Rey left the castle. Part of her noted that her husband woke early - the sun hadn’t even risen yet, though the stars were beginning to fade out of the sky. A larger part of her was more concerned with her husband’s pet than the man himself.

Rey had been sitting at the dock for almost an hour when she finally spotted him. The sun had just risen above the horizon, bathing the lake in a golden light. It also fell upon the dark shadow slinking down the terraces of the island towards the water.

Rey stood from her spot as he approached the shoreline. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Kylo Ren only stopped his approach when he stood beside her. Even with her on the dock and the dragon with his paws in the water, his head towered above her. He had the grace to lower it so she could look him in the eye, though she didn’t like the amused glint in it.

“Little Marquesa,” he purred, “Are you trying to mother me?”

Rey had the grace to flush. “Don’t be silly. Did you even have a mother?”

This time is was his turn to look chagrined - at least, as chagrined as a dragon could look. “I had a mother,” he said, his head turning away from her. “I have a mother.”

“Clearly she didn’t do a very good job if you’re doing this to yourself.” Rey had never even known her mother, but even she knew not to aggravate new wounds - let alone burn villages and terrorize countrysides.

That was the wrong thing to say. Kylo’s head swung back towards her as he snarled. His jaws snapped shut inches from her midsection, and Rey scrambled backwards, her back colliding with one of the posts on the dock. A deadly glow emanated from within his neck as fire gathered in his throat, and smoke curled out from between his teeth, long and sharp as swords.

“Do not,” he growled, low and dangerous, “insult my mother again.”

Rey’s eyes darted from his eyes down to the teeth near her torso. She had gotten too comfortable in the past couple of days. Though her husband guaranteed her safety and claimed that the beast liked her, Kylo Ren was still a dragon - one who didn’t have a great track record of not eating young brides.

After staring her down for a few more moments, Kylo Ren turned once more towards the lake, wading out towards the center.

Rey found her voice once more. “Where are you going?” she tried again. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

Kylo Ren paused and heaved a great sigh. “I am going to hunt. Everything needs to eat - and dragons need to eat more than most. I have not eaten in quite some time.”

That didn’t ease Rey’s mind at all - if he was hungry, there was no guarantee he might decide that she was a tastier snack than whatever was beyond the lake - not to mention easier to catch.

Still, she couldn’t manage to keep her mouth closed. “You went out yesterday - was it to hunt, as well? And when you attacked those villagers’ cattle?”

“Unfortunately,” he said through gritted teeth, “I was not successful.”

“Why not?” she prompted. “You’re a dragon. It should be easy to catch food.”

“I know that!” he snapped back. “But dragons attack their prey from above. We are not particularly inconspicuous when hunting from the ground, but unfortunately, I have no other option.” Kylo attempted to stretch his injured wing, but flinched before it extended to full length and tucked it back against his side.

Suddenly, it all clicked into place for Rey. She had experienced days like this in Jakku - days where she was so hungry, she had no patience for people, no tolerance for anyone’s nonsense, and was unable to think of anything beyond the rumbling of her stomach. A jolt of sympathy ran through her, and her stomach nearly rumbled in solidarity.

Rey stepped towards the dragon once more, though not without some trepidation. She faced the far shoreline with him. “...Is there much prey out there?”

“Yes. The deer have been in hiding all winter, and are hungry enough now that they are unwary.” Rey could hear his claws sink into the lakebed below, though, and understood. The deer might be easy to find, but that didn’t mean that he would be able to catch them.

Right. That made things simple, then. Rey didn’t want to get eaten, and she didn’t want to deal with a temperamental dragon. There was only one path left to her.

“Wait here,” she told him as she left the dock. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She didn’t stick around long enough to hear his questions.

When she returned a few minutes later, she was almost surprised that he had conceded to wait for her. “Whatever Maz has in her cellar,” Kylo Ren said, “will probably not be enough to sate me for - oh.”

That was when he caught sight of what she had actually brought with her. It had been a long time since Rey had needed to hunt, but the quiver full of arrows strung over her back felt as natural as ever. The bows in the armory had a stronger draw that she was used to - probably meant more for piercing plate armor than animal flesh - but Rey was still able to fully pull the string back. It would have to do.

“I’m ready to go.”

“Go where?” Somehow, with all the scales and fangs, Kylo Ren still managed to look perplexed.

“Hunting,” she replied. “You can’t hunt for yourself, so I’ll have to do it for you. It probably won’t be as satisfying as if you had caught it yourself, but at least you won’t go hungry until your wing is healed.”

“Do you even know how to hunt?”

“Back in Jakku, if I couldn’t find enough scrap to trade for a meal, I used to hunt lizards.”

“To trade for a - wait, lizards?” Kylo Ren couldn’t seem to decide which part of her statement was more shocking.

Rey decided to save him from his confusion. “Deer are large, right? This should be easy. Now, is there a boat somewhere on the island? I can’t very well hunt them from here.”

“We have no need of a boat,” he said, stepping further out into the water. “Get in.”

Rey looked down at the water below the dock. “I don’t know how to swim. I came from a desert fief, remember?”

“Even if you knew how to swim, you wouldn’t make it across. This water is mostly made of snowmelt - you’d freeze before you reached the opposite side. Get in anyways.”

This was a phenomenally bad idea, but Rey had never been one to listen to sense. She sat on the edge of the dock and dipped into her toe into the water, but hissed and withdrew almost immediately. The water was freezing.

But Kylo Ren was watching her expectantly, so Rey took a deep breath and slid off the dock.

The water was shockingly cold when it first hit her body, but she barely even felt the chill when the water rose above her head. Rey kicked out with her feet, searching for the bottom, and her hands clawed above her, searching for the surface of the water.

Almost immediately, something was beneath her feet - something dark and scaly. Kylo Ren’s paw lifted to let her stand on it, still half-submerged in water, and he led her back toward him even as he moved further out into the lake. Once he was out far enough, he guided her along his shoulder and up his neck. Rey swung her legs over his neck, sitting in the space just behind his head.

“Hold on tight,” he said, then turned towards the opposite shore. Rey grabbed onto his horns and tucked herself close to his body as he set off across the lake.

He was right - the water was freezing. When she stuck her hand out away from the dragon, it didn’t take long for her fingertips to go numb until she brought them back to his horns. But Kylo Ren himself was warm - his body even heated up the water around him, keeping the water near his body at an acceptable temperature for Rey as long as she kept close to him. When she had treated him for his injury a few days prior, the skin under his scales had been even more heated - she had no doubt that he could keep himself warm in even the coldest of climates.

Rey couldn’t help but peek out over his horns as Kylo swam. The lake was deep enough that even he had to swim and not just walk across the bottom. Only his head stuck out of the water, leaving Rey submerged up to her waist from her perch just behind his horns. The water was clear, but was deep enough that she couldn’t see the bottom. Beneath her, Kylo Ren looked like a great, dark shadow - only his paws came into view as they churned the water below them.

“I wish I knew how to swim,” Rey mumbled to herself.

Kylo’s ears flicked backwards at her words. “The sun heats up the water later on in the year,” he said. “If you would like, I will teach you when summer comes.”

Rey settled back into her seat, pressing herself closer to his body to keep warm. “I’d like that.” She had her doubts about how effectively a dragon could teach a human to swim, but she appreciated the sentiment.

It didn’t take them long to reach the opposite shore. Rey scrambled off of Kylo Ren as soon as she heard his claws scrape the lakebed, but huddled close to him as they both emerged from the water.

“I can smell them,” Kylo rumbled. “They’re not far in that direction.” He swung his head towards the woods.

“Okay,” Rey replied, taking her quiver off her back and tilting it to pour out the water. After rebuckling it, she gave her bow a few experimental draws to loosen it up. “Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

Hunting in the forest was different from hunting in the desert. In the desert, there were no tracks - the wind blew the sand back over them too quickly - so she was limited to what she could see. Here in the forest, the thick pine trees obscured her vision, but it didn’t take long for her to find a trail of parted grass, as well as the slight impressions of hooves in the soil. It also didn’t take long for her foot to find a stick, and when it snapped under her weight, she heard something in the bushes to her right skitter away. Rey swore silently but continued along the trail, watching her footsteps this time around.

She nearly stumbled upon the deer, though thankfully did so silently this time. The soft brown of their coats blended in nicely with the bark of the trees, and Rey was so focused on where she put her feet that she didn’t see them until they were only a couple dozen feet away.

Rey crouched down in the grass just behind a tree, observing the small herd. They were smaller than she had expected them to be - she didn’t know why she had expected deer to be the size of horses, but they looked petite. Delicate. Would one be enough to feed a dragon?

One would have to be enough for now - if Kylo Ren wanted more, he could bring her across the lake again tomorrow. Rey’s eyes caught sight of the buck of the herd, peacefully grazing not twenty feet away. As quietly as possible, she nocked the arrow on the string. The slight twang caused his head to jerk upwards, and his eyes darted around the clearing.

Rey exhaled and let the arrow fly from the string.

The deer was heavy enough that Rey struggled to drag it across the forest floor. When she got close enough, she called out to Kylo. The dragon practically wiggled like an overexcited dog when he saw the buck, which prompted a chuckle from Rey. To her surprise, he didn’t eat it immediately. He picked the deer up in his jaws and waded back into the water, inviting Rey back up to her perch behind his head.

When they reached the opposite shore, Kylo lay the buck at her feet and shook the water off his scales. Rey screeched and threw her arms in front of her pace to protect herself from the droplets flying from his hide, but he looked more amused at her scowl than repentant.

“Do you know how to carve a deer?” he asked.

“Not really,” she replied, then shot him a confused glance. “Do you only eat your venison pre-carved? I thought you...you know.” She gestured vaguely to his claws and teeth. Why did he need to carve up a piece of meat when he was big enough that he could probably swallow it whole, anyways?

Kylo gave a rumbly laugh. “It’s not for me. It’s for you.”

“I didn’t hunt this deer for me, though.”

“I know. Traditionally, when there is a hunt, everyone who attends the feast gets to eat a part of the beast - but the person who brought down the animal gets to select their cut first.”

“Oh,” she said, looking down at the animal in front of her. Kylo had carried it surprisingly delicately, and there were no wounds on its body from where he had carried it in his teeth. The only puncture on the animal was the one in its eye, where Rey had hit it with an arrow. “I’d like one of the back legs.”

“The leg?” Kylo sounded shocked.

“Yes, the leg.”

“You don’t want the leg.”

Rey placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I do. There’s a lot of meat on that haunch, and it’ll preserve well.”

“It’s tough. It’s common.”

“Oh, the lizard is going to lecture me about what’s common. Look, there’s four legs - you’re going to get three of them. Why do you care if I take one?”

“You can keep the damned thing’s leg,” Kylo snapped back, “but you’re getting something quality, too, whether you like it or not. Go have Maz fetch us a carving knife and some firewood.”

With more patience than Rey thought a hungry dragon would be capable of, he directed her in carving up the deer. He showed her how to release the leg from the joint, and then directed her to a strip of meat directly under the animal’s spine.

“The tenderloin,” he told her as she worked on carving it out, “is the king of meat cuts. It’s tender and flavorful - if you know how to cook it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want it?” she asked, waving the strip of meat in the air in front of him. It was only about the size of her forearm - why would anyone choose this over a larger piece?

“You are going to eat it for dinner and you are going to like it.”

It didn’t take long to get dinner started - with the tiniest breath of flames, Kylo set the firewood alight. Rey listened to him munching on the deer carcass as she set the leg turning on a spit above the fire. The tenderloin had been wrapped in paper and was sitting near the base of the fire to bake.

Rey wrapped her arms around herself and scooted closer to the fire. Though the tenderloin would bake quickly, the haunch would take some time - she would likely be cooking it until after the sun went down. Even now, the sun was inching towards the horizon, and the temperature was beginning to drop. The fact that her clothes were still wet wasn’t helping to keep her warm, either, so she huddled closer to the fire, hoping she’d be dry and warm soon.

From somewhere behind her, she heard Kylo Ren stand up, his deer apparently finished. Rey jumped when she felt something touch her back, and she glanced back to see a wall of dark scales. With utmost delicacy, Kylo pressed his shoulder against her back and curled around her and the fire. Pressed up against him like this, Rey could feel the heat radiating from his scales, and the chill quickly left her.

“Thank you,” he said, surprisingly gently for a monster of his size. “For hunting for me, that is.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, just as quiet. She let herself lean back against his scales, turning slightly so she could look to where his head was resting to one side of her. “...I’m sorry if I insulted you earlier - when I was talking about your mother, I mean. I didn’t think dragons even had mothers.”

“Everything has a mother.”

Not me, she wanted to say. “I’m sure she’s a very special…” Woman? Person? Dragon? “...I’m sure she’s very special,” she corrected.

“She is,” he replied softly. “There are few that are as kind and forgiving as her.”

Rey wanted to ask more about his mother, but Kylo changed the subject before she could question him further. “Did you say that you ate lizards?”

It was too painful a question to answer directly, so she quirked an eyebrow up and gave a smile. “You better watch out, or you’ll be next.”

But Kylo was still regarding her with a serious expression on his face, so Rey sighed, turning her eyes towards her laced fingers in front of her. “There wasn’t much else to eat in the Jakku desert. Food is scarce.”

“You told me you were a blacksmith’s apprentice,” he prodded. “Did your master not feed you?”

“It wasn’t an apprenticeship like most,” she replied. “We learned how to work metal, yes, but it was more from watching him and each other than from him actually teaching us. We mostly scavenged for old armor in the desert - the blacksmith would pay us in flour and salted meat in exchange for whatever we brought him. I...didn’t always bring enough back to satisfy him. Thus - lizards.”

Kylo’s side began to vibrate as he growled. “Any chance that this blacksmith is available to eat once my wing is healed?”

“Stop that. Eating people is wrong,” she told him matter-of-factly. “Besides, I was promised by one of the queen’s own knights before I left Jakku that he would spend a very, very long time rotting in a cell for his crimes. And besides, you need to be grateful to him, too. Without him, I never would have learned how to hunt, and then you would still be hungry.”

“I still think I should eat him,” Kylo grumbled.

Rey’s eyes turned back towards the water. It was beginning to get late, and the sun was setting over the water. It was then that it occurred to her - she had been on the other side of the lake. Kylo had let her walk free on the other side of the lake to track a deer, and she hadn’t once thought of escaping. It would have been the perfect opportunity, but it hadn’t even occurred to her.

There was another side to this, as well - though it hadn’t been explicitly forbidden, Rey wasn’t supposed to leave the island. She probably shouldn’t have even had the small hint of freedom that she had experienced today.

She leaned forward from her spot leaning against Kylo, crossing her arms over her knees. “Do you think the Marquess will be displeased that I left the island?”

Kylo Ren was silent for a long time, but she heard him shift to lift his head. “I don’t think,” he said softly, “that the Marquess could be displeased with anything you do.”

When Rey turned her head, he was much closer to her than she had realized, his head barely a foot from her. She raised her gaze to him, shocked once more by how human his eyes were. All of the stories told of the dragon’s eyes, red as blood or bright as gold, but Kylo’s eyes were a soft, deep brown; more gentle than a monster’s gaze could ever be.

His eyes flickered upwards towards the setting sun before returning to her. “I need to go,” he murmured, but instead of leaving, he leaned forward, his nose nuzzling gently against her cheek. It was a strange way for a dragon to say thank you, but the scales over his snout were softer than she thought they would be, and Rey couldn’t resist reaching up to run a hand over his nose before he withdrew.

“Your meat should be ready by now,” he said as he stood and stretched. “You should eat it while it’s still warm - it’s best that way.”

He hopped up onto the terrace just above her, but hesitated before leaving. “...Don’t stay out here too late,” he said finally, still in that soft, sweet voice. “Your husband misses you when you’re not by his side. Don’t make him wait for you too long.”

With that cryptic phrase, Kylo Ren departed for his cave, leaving Rey alone to contemplate her meal and the swiftly darkening sky.

Next Chapter

#star wars #reylo #kylo ren #ben solo #rey #tlj #tfa #tros #the seventh bride #wonderful world of writing #here we are #two years later #but hey you get DRAGON KISSES

43 notes · View notes

hvlfwygod · 4 years ago

Text

curses | cyrus&malia

date: may 8, 2020

summary: after fight night, malia and cyrus talk about their past

Since Cyrus avoided the nurse's station before leaving the Rat cage, his limbs were exceptionally exhausted. Without having the energy to dig through his bag for his keys, he waved his burnt hand over his doorknob and the deadbolt clicked open. He pushed his way into his apartment and, standing by the entrance still, Cyrus let his bag slump off his shoulder and down onto the floor where it may. He rubbed his head and turned to shut the front door behind Malia after she entered after him. "Thank you, Mal. For comin' back with me," He sighed as he kicked off his footwear. He then hesitated, almost as if he wanted to say something else, but instead he shuffled over to his room. He opened the door, leaving it open for Mal, and went to defeatedly sit on the foot of his bed. He had stopped crying on their walk back to his palce, but his breath was still shaken. He unhooked a wrist guard, then the other, and inhaled through his teeth as it tugged at the burned skin of his hand. "Fuck..." He winced and let them drop to the floor. "I am dead tired." He confirmed, continued to just sit there, and look down at his feet.

Malia locked the front door and slipped out of her shoes, then followed Cyrus to his room. She felt a little nervous and weird about coming here, mostly because she'd shown up to the fight with someone else. She had gone back into the warehouse, before leaving, to tell Jesse that she didn't plan to stay. Malia hadn't said where she was going or who with, but she thought it was fairly obvious considering she had run after Cyrus initially. But, right now wasn't about her suddenly complicated romantic life.

Cyrus never looked like this before, and her heart hurt to see it. Hovering in the doorway to his bedroom, Malia watched him pull away his wrist guards and frowned. "You didn't take any nectar?" she asked, but it felt like a dumb question because of course he didn't. She hesitated for another moment before finally walking over and settling down next to him. She put a hand on his knee, rubbing circles into the fabric with her thumb.

If it was any other night under more normal circumstances, Cyrus would have been proud that Malia decided to leave with him but he felt nothing of the sort. He was just genuinely relieved to not have to return to his apartment all alone. He frowned and responded to Malia's question before realizing she probably could assume the answer just as easily. "No, Lulu was at the station and... I don't know," Crooke shook his head and watched her hand on his knee for a moment. He then pulled off the light armor he had on his torso and let it fall to the floor with a thud. Next, he pulled off his t-shirt that had been sticking to his cooled sweat. He bundled it up and tossed it over to his laundry basket. Now with a few less layers, Cyrus felt... somehow less vulnerable and more vulnerable at the same time. It was Malia, after all, and if he couldn't bring himself to confide in her, then who could it ever be? He took her hand in his. "I had no choice back there," He brought his eyes halfway up, half-explaining, but faltered obviously afraid of something which caused him to instinctively flinch. Although there was nothing there but the two, he still squeezed Mal's hand just a bit. "I don't get to..." He sighed, pausing. "I had no reason to do that." He settled on.

The flinch broke a little spell of stillness in the room, and Malia jolted as well. She squeezed his hand back, keeping up the gentle pressure even when he relaxed his grip. She wasn't exactly sure what the best approach was for all of this. Scooting even closer, Malia pressed her forehead to Cyrus's shoulder. It wasn't clear to her if he was talking about the fight or the sudden reaction he'd just had, but she decided it was probably the former. "It was part of the game," she offered, flipping his hand over so she could trace little shapes into his palm. "In the heat of the moment, you don't realize your own strength, exactly what's going on. It's okay."

"It's not that. I knocked one of my best friends out, Mal. Shit was cold-blooded," Cyrus replied and sighed with a bit of frustration tinging his tone now. "That made me feel shitty, because I knew it was shitty. While I was even in the middle of doin' it—" He began bouncing his leg on the opposite side of where Malia sat. The tracings on his palm tickled but was a very welcome distraction. "I shouldn't have entered the fuckin' fight night, but... Gods," He cursed, rolling his eyes and scoffing. "I wanted to... have fun?" He half-heartedly shrugged in an attempt to comprehend how he was going to say what he really needed to share, but even he wasn't completely certain. "Before I entered, everything was chill. It was as soon as I beat Koda, there was literally nothing I wanted to do besides win. I could feel the fuckin' obsession. Hell, I still want to win, but I know that me in the third round is not a good idea. I said that I'm cursed," He spoke, after a sharp inhale, and leaned his back on his bed to lay down or maybe in an attempt to diffuse his nerves. "I'm fuckin' undeniably cursed, twice-over by the same goddesss too, nonetheless." He finally spat out.

Most of what Cyrus was saying made no sense to her, and she didn't think there was any version of the fight night that would have ever called fun. But she nodded along anyway, just letting him talk and get whatever he needed off his chest. She wanted to ask what he meant by obsession, but before she had the chance, he mentioned a curse. That was the second time tonight he brought it up, the first being outside the warehouse at the event. Malia shivered, scared of what this might mean.

When he laid back, Malia pushed herself a little further along on the bed so she could look down and into his eyes. "Um," she started, pressing her lips together, but fell silent when he continued. It was like a cold shot to her heart. Her face fell and her eyes widened in obvious distress. "Shit," she said quietly. "I... what?" She'd been hoping that he'd been exaggerating, though she suspected Cyrus was serious. And now, he confirmed he was. Malia felt a little sick. "What... Um, which goddess?”

Cyrus continued to lay on his back, but with his eyes closed. They stayed that way as Malia made her way more onto the bed as well. He finally met her gaze after he heard what seemed to be a hushed expletive. He was still conscious of his injuries. While looking up at her delicate features which had twisted into more of a look of distress, Cyrus still let himself wonder about her and about thoughts that he'd only toyed with before too. They mixed together until he was frowning again. "Hecate," He blinked and looked away with his own widened eyes. "It was right before everything went to shit," He explained while flexing his opposite hand that wasn't touching Malia. "I was young and thought I was being a rebel, or whatever the fuck. I was stupid, Mal..." He looked back at her, feeling bad for dumping this all on her. "I don't want to scare you." He claimed softly.

The temperature in the room dropped about twenty degrees and all the words coming out of Cyrus's mouth were muffled. Malia barely heard anything that he said after uttering Hecate's name. She's gone, Malia reminded herself, she's not here, this was years ago. But it was like the goddess was standing in the corner of the room, ready to snatch her away once again. Did sharing a room with someone she cursed draw more attention to herself?

"It's okay," she said quietly. After a long pause, she shifted again, laying down beside him. "Does this hurt?" She hoped it didn't, and he could wrap his arms around her, make her feel a little safer despite the terror he'd injected into her veins. "I'm so sorry. That you were... I... I can't imagine..."

Cryus could tell that Malia was processing what he had just divulged, and he felt like his bones were rattling. Or there wasn't enough room in his body for feelings this big. He fidgeted his foot during the growing silence while he allowed Malia to pause... But he mentally scolded himself for not expressing himself more eloquently. Or maybe it was still the regret he felt for actions he took even further in the past. For a moment, Cyrus couldn't peel his stare away from looking up at the ceiling. When he heard Mal's voice, he realized again how thankful he was for her being there for him right now. He exhaled and with misty eyes once again, he forced a smile. "No, you're good right there," Cyrus answered her. After feeling the comfort of her warm touch, he moved his arm around her frame. He let his restless body be held by her and, in return, he held her closely too. "I don't want you to have to imagine it at all," He uttered and swallowed hard. "I don't even want to tell you. It's just... Fuck," He complained but continued on. "It just explains a lot. I'm not blamin' everything about myself on these two curses either, okay?" He vocalized his clarification and followed it up with a defeated sigh. "Don't think I'm doin' that. Or that I'm tryin' to weasle outta responsibility. I feel like shit, and I will apologize to Lulu in time," He didn't know who he was assuring at this point. Himself, maybe? It truly was as if Crooke's façade of this cool rebel had crumbled down and all that was left was a green-eyed young man with deeply-seeded insecurities. "It just still catches me off guard when I get backlash from something I did on impulse five or six years ago." He frowned.

I don't want you to have to imagine it at all. She didn't want to, either. She could feel some image in her mind floating to the surface but she pushed it aside. Malia could have laughed. Cyrus had come to camp after everything that happened to her. He had no idea how close he was hitting to some of the worst moments of her life. She tried to focus on comforting him again, rubbing aimless shapes into Cyrus's chest, and took a few deep, calming breaths. "I know what you mean," she mumbled. He seemed to be on the verge once again; she almost didn't recognize him with that expression on his face. "Do you know what they do?" This was dangerous territory for her to be going down, but she decided to do it for Cyrus. It was probably the first time he was saying these things out loud and she wasn't going to make up bottle them back up. She steeled herself for his answer, her heart in her throat.

When Malia said that she knew what he meant, Cyrus attempted to blink the almost tears away and willed himself to not even dare letting himself spill again. He tried to calm his own raw nerves too, mainly focusing on the intricacies of his bedroom in an attempt of distraction from his own emotions. He was aware of Malia's hand on his chest when he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. He forgot about the split lip he'd gotten from Koda, although it was dried by now. It still was the least of his worries as he let his face linger close to the top of her head still. She always carried a soft scent, almost sweet as the tenderess of her touches, and this moment was no different. "Yeah, I know what they do," Cyrus spoke softly as he finally moved his head back to rest where it had been. Talking about this topic was unfamiliar to him, unless it was with his brother; who shared the experience of getting cursed by Hecate (although their indivdual curses were different). "They're essentially hand-picked to fuck my life up the most," He continued on, swallowing hard one last time before furthur addressing the situation. "The first one, makes it so that I have to tell a handful of complete truths. Which wouldn't be that bad, but there hasn't been a day since I was fuckin', like, nineteen where I haven't done it," Cyrus finally added in confession, frowning although she couldn't see his face without looking up. "I should also apologize. For not telling you earlier. And, because I used you..." He faltered, but pushed through anyway and continued. "I'd go and tell you things a lot of the time, when I knew I had to say shit that I wasn't comfortable tellin' anyone else," He shook his head against his pillow and squeezed her frame. "I'm sorry, Mal. This is probably a conversation we should've had ages ago..."

Malia almost said it sounded exactly like the goddess she remembered, to craft something so specific and targeted. Instead, she just closed her eyes while a chill traveled down her spine. Cyrus continued to explain and she tried her best to follow along, eventually bringing her gaze up to his face once she trusted her expression. It was strange to hear him apologize, considering Malia was almost glad she never knew. Would she have been able to let herself get this close had she been told years ago? A part of her doubted it. Malia pressed her lips together. "Honestly, I don't know if I... I think I'm more, flattered that you trusted me so much, Cy." She sat up a bit, moving her hand to lightly brush down his face, her eyes misty despite herself. "I know how hard it can be to talk about... this kind of thing."

Cyrus eventually met her gaze but wasn't necessarily pleased by the expression he was faced with. She seemed effected by the secrets he was revealing and the feeling of regret was still ever so present. Even as Malia spoke and assured him that she was flattered rather than offended and he let out a breathy exhale. He shook his head, almost incredulously at the life he somehow made for himself. "The other is a curse of obsession, by the way," He attempted to gloss over the nastier of the curses. "But, there. Now, there's no denyin' that you know more about me than most," Cyrus admitted, feeling her soft touch on the side of his face. He let himself just gaze at her for a moment longer before speaking again. "I don't know how you'd know about this kind of thing. I mean, c'mon... How long have we known one another?" He questioned, pressing his tongue to his cheek. "I don't know how you'd even get yourself into a situation like this," He expressed but his voice fell silent after Crooke observed exactly what her eyes looked like. He felt his breath hitch and he ran his hand ran up and down her back in an act of comfort. "Is this all too much?" He asked with a sense of urgency and concern; moving to sit up a bit as well.

She wanted to ask him more— what did a curse of obsession even mean?— but her mind was swimming. Her hand pressed more firmly against Cryus's face while she debated with herself if she was going to say anything. This would mark the first time she talked about what happened to her with someone that wasn't there when it happened. She opened her mouth but her throat closed up immediately. Malia closed her eyes and swallowed. "I never realized how much you opened up to me, Cy," she finally said. Maybe recognizing that was why she felt like she could do the same, too. "So maybe, it's my turn? Um," she closed her eyes. "I did get myself into a situation like this," Malia mumbled. Already, she was having a fear response, just thinking about the goddess looming over her. Her eyes were stinging and when she spoke again her words shook on her voice. "Um, before you came to camp, Hecate... She... um." Malia lifted her hand to wipe a tear from her face. "She kidnapped me and, um... I was gone for like, two weeks? I'm not, I'm not cursed but, I get it. Kind of. Maybe better than others would, at least."

Cyrus saw that Malia had an obvious emotional reaction and wanted to take all his words back but he knew it was too late. Although her hand on his face was comforting, he moved to finish sitting up against his bedframe. He remained quiet as she figured out how to say what she needed to say. He just tried his hardest to give her a comforting expression but he knew she'd see the worry in it. After she was finished speaking, Cyrus let out a breath he'd been holding. "Malia, fuck..." He said, head rested back as he sighed in defeat. "I am so sorry," He apologized again and couldn't help his brain from imagining what being kidnapped by a god would entail. "Before camp?" He closed his eyes for longer than a blink, processing something, and tightening his jaw. Crooke then looked down at her, trying to speak as steady as he could. "I wouldn't have brought any of this up, if I had known... Damn it. I despise the fuck outta her so much more now. You're the last person who deserves shit like this," He let out a sharp distressed groan and took her hand in his. "The thought of you getting hurt makes me..." He assumed that kidnapping wasn't the only thing she'd endured and he gently squeezed. "I would always fight for you to be safe."

She thought saying it out loud might have felt nice, taken some of the weight off of her heart. But once the words left her mouth, Malia experienced an instant wave of regret. She barely registered Cyrus, even when he took her hand and held her closer. The room was suddenly too small, and his concern was suffocating. "I... yeah," she said. "I know. I... Thanks. Sorry, I didn't want to... um, make us stop focusing on what's going on with you." She shook her head. "I don't like talking about it. I just thought," she didn't know what she thought, now that it was too late to take it back. Gods, she felt stupid. "I guess we just have something else in common, kind of?"

"No, please, don't feel bad about that," Cyrus stated, with a dimmer concern after hearing what she had to say and assuming that she didn't want to talk about this topic anymore. "You're fine, Mal. Don't worry 'bout takin' the spotlight off me," He expressed. "I had no idea, I'm just... Surprised, I guess?" He'd somehow managed to calm down from the groaning frustration he'd expressed earlier, but it may have been just to match Malia's drop in her mood. "I knew you were strong, but I didn't think we had both been through shit and were... strong enough to be here still, y'know?" He moved his hand to the side of her face so they could look at one another. He sighed and the corner of his mouth twitched in an attempt to smile. "But, listen, if you pick something to watch, we can smoke..." He suggested and then added a little quieter. "Then I can just hold you...?"

Cyrus was talking about strength but nothing about shaking over something that happened nearly a decade ago felt very strong. Malia didn't protest this, though, and just nodded her head. She was a little nervous adding any sort of drugs into her system with her so shaken. But if anything, weed might help her calm down. "A few hits," Malia agreed, returning his smile lightly for just a few seconds. "We can watch something silly and just... yeah, I'd like that." She didn't look him in the eye for the last sentence, instead closing her eyes and pressing her face into the palm cupping her face. "And tomorrow will you let me get you some ambrosia?"

They spent the rest of the night like that, getting just high enough to relax, a sitcom playing in the background while neither of them paid much attention. Malia's regret only continued to weigh down on her as the night passed by. She hated how awful it felt, how badly she wanted to take everything back. With effort, and another hit, she managed to stop dwelling, at least for now. And eventually, with Cyrus's arms holding her close, she was able to doze off.

#malia x cyrus #maliacyrus2 #malia #curses

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utopiannamjoon · 5 years ago

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A Knight in Leather Armor Chapter 1: Meeting the gang

Genre: Angst, fluff, university au, biker au

Pairing: Jeongguk x reader, Taehyung x reader

Major characters: Jeongguk, Taehyung, Yoongi, Jimin, OC

Warnings: Depictions of violence, swearing

Synopsis of the serie: You had an uneventful life, you went to uni and wanted to get by with no trouble but that with was thrown out of the window when you run into a biker, literally smashing your face against him at the university. Everything is changed from that point forwards.

A/N: Polished version of this chapter for a better reading experience. Next chapter tomorrow

Masterlist in bio

Link for this series masterlist can be found the main masterlist in bio

You hastily shoved your things in your backpack when the lecture was finally over and booked it out of the room. You turned the corner and next thing you knew, you collided with someone, or rather someone’s hard back. The bag fell out of your hand, sending books and pens flying everywhere on the school floor.

“I’m so sorry,” you swiftly apologized, already cursing yourself in your head for being so clumsy. With shaky hands started to collect your belongings, knowing you’re late already.

“It’s okay,” the stranger said softly as he squatted next to you. Helping you, he quickly fetched the books and handed them to you, “Here.”

“Thank you-” You trailed off when you looked at him for the first time, you felt the color escaping from your face when his eyes looked back at you. He had a red bandana wrapped around his head leaving his hair hanging wherever, and the black leather jacket broadened his shoulders even further making him look more intimidating than he usually seems.

You recognized him. You collided with Kim Taehyung, who was a member of a biker gang. A lot of dark rumours of violence they’ve committed circled around about the campus, and now you’ve bumped into one of the members, that couldn’t be good. Sure, some of the members go to your university and you’ve seen them, but you’ve never made eye contact with a member, let alone talked to them.

“Are you okay?” He tilted his head, asking you in concern. You must’ve looked like you just seen a ghost. “You clashed into me quite hard,” he let out a slight chuckle as he hoisted you up by your arm.

“Yes, th- thank you. I’m so- so sorry,” you stuttered and apologized over and over again in a hush voice. You couldn’t even look at his face when you thanked him.

Taehyung’s mouth opened to say something but it was too late. You were already on your way, disappearing around the corner still apologizing between breaths.

As you guessed it, your boyfriend was waiting for you in the main hall, impatiently tapping his foot against the floor.

“What took you so long? I told you I was gonna wait for you,” He hissed as he grabbed the bag out of your hands, “Why are you so slow? This happens everytime,” He huffed to himself and started walking to the parking lot, you following just behind him.

“Well I’m here now Jimin,” you smiled coyly at him, but he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

You got in the passenger side of his car, as you sat down he flinged your backpack in your lap, making you flinch. Jimin scoffed at your reaction saying it was over-dramatic, and finally started the car and you were on your way. He dropped you off at your house and grabbed your arm as you were half way out of the car,

“I’ll pick you up at 11,” He told you.

“Sorry?” You trailed off, “Pick me up for what?”

“For the party,” He said, looking at you like you were an idiot. He paused for a moment, taking his time thinking before laughing, “Did I forget to tell you?”

”You did but it’s okay… I’ll see you at 11 then,” You feigned a smile.

You turned the key in the lock of your front door when Jimin opened up a window, “Don’t wear the short dress. I hate it, It makes you look like someone who belongs on a street corner,” He shouted before speeding off.

You sighed in front of your mirror looking at yourself. Now you’ve got to get ready for a party you didn’t even want to go. You’d much rather just cuddle up your blankets in the dark and watch tv. But Jimin wants to take you, this will be good for your relationship. Right?

You rummaged through your closet to find something decent to wear. You didn’t want your boyfriend to call you a whore again so you settled on a pink blouse and a black skirt that ended just above your knees. Feeling confident of your outfit of choice, you took a shower and got ready for the party. You put on subtle make-up and set your hair up in a bun. You felt satisfied at how you looked, all you had to do is to wait the clock hit 11.

Soon enough Jimin was outside, honking to get your attention. You cringed to yourself, thinking of yours neighbors reactions and unsattisfied tuts. Just once you wished he’d be a gentleman and come ring your doorbell. He pushed the door open for you from inside of the car and you made quick steps, knowing he hates when he has to wait for you.

“So?” You wiggled your torso as you sat in the car, trying to draw his attention on your blouse, wanting his approval.

“What?” He said with a dull face, not even sparing a glance at you.

“My outfit,” You told him shyly, “How do you like it?”

“Oh,” He set his eyes on you with a sour expression, he looked at you for only two seconds before looking at the red light again, “It’s fine.”

Was that it? ‘It’s fine’? You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t give you more detailed answer. So you just accepted it as what it was.

The party was alive and well when you arrived. You walked in with Jimin’s hand on your ass giving you painful pinches. You wish he didn’t insist on coming everywhere so late but he said it keeps up his reputation. If you arrived just two hours earlier you could’ve talked with your mutuals, but what could you say to Jimin?

You weren’t even in the house yet when calls for your boyfriend roared through the windows. He smacked your ass and told you to go get something to drink, before joining his friends’ beer bong game. So you did as he suggested and awkwardly found your way through the crowd to the kitchen. You looked through the red solo cups, trying to find a clean one to pour some liquor in.

“Ah we meet again Y/n,” A deep but amused voice said behind you, “I can’t believe he left you so soon from your arrival,” He chuckled, not at you but in disbelief of how ridiculously your boyfriend acted. You stared at the man with a red bandana with frozen eyes, squeezing the red cup in your hand in distress,

“How do you know my name?” You asked, nearly whispering but Taehyung managed to hear you through the noise anyway. He laughed at your question before looking at your confused expression,

“Oh you’re not joking,” he realized and explained with an understanding smile, “You’re the girlfriend of the most popular guy at the university. Everybody knows who you are,” The smile on his face didn’t drop at any point, but it wasn’t a forced one either. His adorable eyes smiled too.

You nodded, not wanting to look at him so you directed your gaze at the bottom of the cup. You wished it had some content to make your mind more at eaze. Taehyung’s demeanour exudes softness and friendliness, but you still weren’t comfortable with casually talking to him. You’re afraid that the rumours are true.

Taehyung lifted his jaw up a little to peek in your red cup where your eyes were focused, “I have water if you’d rather drink it than alcohol,” He said, offering a water bottle he pulled out of his jacket pocket. He saw how tense you were, you almost trembled from being scared,

“I’m with my bike so I can’t drink,” Taehyung explained at your pale face, “See?” He pointed out of the window towards a metallic black motorcycle with a white side. You tried to look in the dark to see it. His motorcycle was parked next to the curb, and from what you could see all of the details were in black except the seat which was sand brown leather. Quite a contrast to his personality you’ve gotten to know this far. You really didn’t know anything about motorcycles or Taehyung for that matter but this one wasn’t what you thought him driving. It was the most hipster-y and artsy motorcycle you could imagine.

You took the water bottle from Taehyung because you didn’t want to be rude, especially since you didn’t know if he was actually the maniac every says he is.

“Anyway I have some business to do,” He told you with a small smirk tugging on his lips, “I hope you have a good evening.”

You wished him the same but it just splurt out of your mouth into mumbles, you just hoped no one heard you.

Looking at the water bottle you decided not to drink it and just set it aside on the counter. Though it’s cap was still intact you felt anxious about it. You poured liquor into your red solo cup and took sip, your face contorting every time the liquid burned its way down your throat.

You found few people to share some words with but they were all too hammered to talk clearly so you just thought it was better if you just stood in the corner. A slight breeze of fresh air hit you from the side as you were looking around the living room. A glass door for the backyard was open so you took your chance to see some stars in the warm night.

You leaned on the wooden fence looking up at the full moon and bright stars. Somehow it made you feel so insignificant yet so special. You searched for star constellations, finding only few but it didn’t matter. The sight was just something so beautiful, you could look at it forever with the world just blurring into the background.

“What’re you looking at?” Jimin wobbled towards you on the porch. Setting himself behind you, his face was next to yours as his hands leaned on the fence from behind. His breath just reeked of alcohol.

“Just the stars,” You smiled to yourself, “Aren’t they beautiful?” You asked, forgetting that he didn’t actually care. He was just after the one thing.

“Aha,” He just mumbled as he pressed himself against you. He grabbed your hips to keep them still as he tried to get a hard on.

“Here? Really?,” You asked, feeling shy about this happening out in the open. Though everybody were so drunk they didn’t care, even so it was uncomfortable for you.

“C’mon stay still,” He ordered you. Grabbing you even harder, trying to focus on pleasuring himself he grinded harder. You sighed, not wanting to fight your boyfriend. So you just closed your eyes and waited until it’s over.

It didn’t last any longer as Jimin was forcefully torn off you.

“That’s enough,” You heard the deep voice that had been haunting the whole day say calmly to your boyfriend.

“What the fuck do you want? Don’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” Jimin spat back at Taehyung, furious of being interrupted.

“Maybe you were, but she clearly wasn’t into it,” Taehyung remained calm and placed himself between you and your boyfriend, “And she is drunk.”

“What’s your problem huh?!” Jimin raised his voice, “Who the fuck you think you are?! Some kind of fucking perv watching us fuck?!” He yelled at Taehyung’s face, saliva flying everywhere.

Taehyung just chuckled at the shorter man undermining his authority. The light hearted chuckle enraged your boyfriend even further.

Jimin grabbed the collar of Taehyung’s leather jacket, and the smile Taehyung had always on grew even bigger. In return Taehyung clutched the material of your boyfriend’s shirt and pushed him against the wall without any trouble, the situation might’ve gone differently if he wasn’t intoxicated and entirely in control.

“Stop before you get yourself hurt,” Taehyung told him casually, like he was talking to some child and not to your grown-adult-boyfriend that was held up against the wall.

“I know what they say about you. I’m not afraid of you,” Jimin quipped quickly with an arrogant head tilt. Taehyung’s demeanor changed entirely as those words flew out of Jimin’s mouth. Was he offended? Despite Jimin’s attacking tone you caught the hint of hesitation in his voice and it seems like Taehyung did too,

“Yeah? Maybe you should be,” he said, pressing his index finger between Jimin’s ribs, “Because I have something you necessarily wouldn’t want poking through your lungs,” Taehyung told him in a menacing voice, without breaking eye contact. He moved his hand across Jimin’s abdomen in a cutting motion, “Or it can go here if you prefer, or even here,” His hand being now at Jimin’s throat causing him to gulb out of fear.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how the rumours were true after all. It circled around your campus that Taehyung was the psychopath of the gang, that he did all of dirty work because he simply enjoyed it. It definitely seemed that way right now too, the way he was boring his eyes through Jimin’s skull. Taehyung always had a smile on his face but this one was even bigger when he showed Jimin places where he could insert his knife. The rumour has it that Taehyung stabbed a man walking down the street, and punctured his lung with his stiletto switchblade jagged between the man’s ribs, just like he showed to your boyfriend.

Taehyung threw Jimin to the side when he knew the message was well received. He stumbled few steps before regaining his balance. You’ve never seen your boyfriend so angry yet so terrified. His ego took a massive hit when Taehyung didn’t leave him finish his business.

Taehyung took one powerful step towards your boyfriend for intimidation, and he flinched.

“Fuck you,” Jimin pointed at Taehyung as he looked for a way to get out, “This isn’t over,” He threatened and almost ran into the door on his way back in. And that’s what it just was. A threat. He had to say it to cover his ego and reputation somehow.

“What a fucking loser,” Taehyung breath out. He didn’t sound annoyed or angry, which honestly horrified you even more. Did he not feel anything?

You stood there, frozen, as you still leaned on the fence trying to make yourself invisible. Taehyung turned to you after making sure Jimin was nowhere to be seen, he didn’t want to take any chances of a counter attack from a drunk dude. He smiled from knowing he had won this one but when he turned around to you his smile faded quickly away,

“You’re crying. Are you hurt?” He asked you carefully trying to offer you a comforting hand, but you pulled back. You didn’t even know you were crying until he asked that, which just opened up the dam further.

You shook your head, you weren’t hurt but the smallest of attention Taehyung gave you showed you the contrast how your boyfriend treated you. It made you feel like your heart was ripped out of your chest, but you swore to him you weren’t hurt. At least it didn’t hurt more than usual.

Taehyung sighed, it was useless to push it further, he wouldn’t get an answer out of you. He took off his jacket and delicately put it around your shoulders,

“Let me take you home,” He gently said, or more like asked you. You nodded, which might have been a big mistake. You didn’t know him at all. All you knew he threatened your boyfriend and threw him on the ground but against better judgement you followed him to his motorcycle. He waited for you to untie your hair to place his helmet on your head and he fastened the strap for you. You managed to give him your address in between sobs when he asked you for it.

Taehyung sat on the motorcycle first, and he pushed the side stand up with his left leg, and reached to put down the passenger’s leg rests. His feet were securely on the ground on each side of the motorcycle. His right hand was on the front brake, and with his left he tapped the seat behind him signaling for you to get on. He saw how you hesitated, you didn’t know how. You’ve never been on one, this was the closest you’ve seen a motorcycle.

“Grab my shoulders but don’t pull me down when you get up,” He warned you with a slight smile, “Put your foot on that peg right there, and simply just use it to get up,” He advised.

With Taehyung’s help you manage to sit behind him and he moved your hands to fling around his waist. His left hand went to press the clutch all the way in and he started the motorcycle. The engine roared under you two. The noise was something new to you, it was so loud that your heart jumped every time he turned his wrist to give more gas. He slowly released the clutch and you moved forwards, your hands wrapped themselves tighter around him. You felt adrenalin flow through your body as he accelerated, scenery moving faster and faster around you. The wind blew in your hair and the cool air hit your face. You haven’t felt this alive in years.

The sweet purring of the motorcycle ended too soon, as you arrived at your house. You got off the motorcycle and took of his jacket he lent you.

“Thank you for everything,” You smiled coyly as you handed him the leather jacket back.

“Don’t mention it,” Taehyung said while pulling his arm through the sleeve, “It’s probably not my place to say but I wish you’d learn to stand your ground.” He told you referring to earlier.

“But he’s my boyfriend,” You whined as if that was a legitimate rebut.

“Especially so,” Taehyung sighed. He tried to find your eyes with his gaze, but he gave up on that since you were intensely looking down at your own feet, “Jimin should respect you in every way possible. You deserve someone who doesn’t degrade you like he does,” He told you in a matter-of-fact tone. It was something so obvious but for some reason you didn’t see that and it ate him up, Jimin wasn’t a good guy. Taehyung didn’t know you but it hurt him seeing someone so vulnerable, so trusting of others yet so unable to protect themselves.

“You’re not much of a talker are you?” He chuckled to himself when all you could do is answer him with a nod. “I’ll see you at school. Take care of yourself okay?” Once again you nodded and turned around to your house.

“Hey Y/n,” He called after you, “I’ll take the helmet too.”

You returned to give Taehyung the helmet with an awkward smile, your cheeks were burning up from this mishap. You managed to make one glance at him, he was smiling but it wasn’t mocking. You couldn’t quite describe his expression, it was like he was looking at something so innocent and small that he just wanted to protect.

You had the whole weekend to think over what just happened. Just the other day you were introduced to this biker, who is the most intimidating person you’ve ever come across yet he seems so kind. What were you supposed to think of it? Taehyung might have killed someone but here you are thinking about him and how nice he was, you should be smacked for it.

You turned on your side, groaning. “This can’t be happening,” You muttered and pushed your head back in your pillow, you just wanted to get your thoughts away from the biker with the red bandana. Your wish came true as the knock on your window bursted you out of your thoughts.

“Jimin it’s so late,” you complained when your opened your window. He jumped in and cocked his head,

“What do you mean? It isn’t even midnight,” He scoffed.

“Well no because it’s past that… It’s 2am…” You answered him, but he just brushed it off,

“You know, I can’t believe you let him get in the way of our special time,” Jimin said with a hint of accusation in his voice. You shook your head, refusing to register what he just said. You looked like a wounded animal trying to figure out why was he blaming you. In no way was it your fault.

“But,” He continued, coming towards you, “Now that I’m here I’ll take what’s mine,” He told you in between kissing your neck. You set your hands on his shoulders tried to push him away but he didn’t move,

“No, my parents are asleep.”

“So? That hasn’t been a problem before,” You heard him get frustrated. You sighed and thought of the only excuse he took to get himself off you, you’ve learned it the hard way,

“I can’t… girl… problems…” You lied.

He recoiled and stepped back, “That’s nasty,” He said, releasing his grip from you, “You should tell me that in advance. You’re making me have serious blue balls here,” He complained.

“Let me know when it’s over so you can deal with this situation,” Jimin pointed his finger at his junk, “I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow.”

You watched him leave through the window and climb down the tree. You didn’t say anything, you didn’t want to. It’s better if you just stayed silent. What could you say that would make a difference? It’s not like he’d ever taken your suggestions to heart. You’ve been with him since you were 15 and it was always like this. Doesn’t matter what you gave to him, he isn’t willing to give a fraction of it back.

Monday rolled around quickly and soon you were at the university again. Once again Jimin slapped your ass as you two parted ways. The amount of smacking he did you were sure your ass had his hand mark on it.

You sat down in the back of the class, alone. You always found the corner to be the most peaceful and quiet. It allowed you to write down a lot of notes and listen in closely, though you were far from the professor you thankfully had good hearing.

In the middle of the uneventful lecture someone sat down beside you,

“You did not just sneak in a class you don’t even take while the lecture is like half way through,” You whispered, shocked. You were always the good girl. Always early for every occasion, and never interrupting anything. So when Taehyung did exactly what your worst nightmares were made of, it left you astonished. You could never do that.

“Yeah I did,” He grinned at you like it was the most mundane thing to do. Maybe it was for him, but not for you. He grabbed your hand, dragging you up with him, “And now we’re going to sneak out.” You managed to snatch your laptop with you when Taehyung pulled you out of the class.

“That’s crazy,” You told him. Looking back the classroom door, you were on the edge should you go back in, “I’ve never done that. I can’t just leave the lecture.”

“Yes you can. It’s university,” He laughed, “You just get up and leave, it’s really that simple.”

“I’ve known you few days and you have already made me do these insane things,” You pointed out. You weren’t mad about it, it just seemed so unreal. This wasn’t you, you couldn’t just simply walk out of the lecture. It felt wrong.

“I have a feeling we’re going to do more of these ‘insane things’” He snickered, and patted your shoulder comfortingly. A giggle almost left your lips and his face momentarily lit up.

”Why did you get me out of the class anyway,” You asked the question burning on your mind. The only time you’ve left class was when you were 10 years old, and it was for the dentist.

”I’m just bored,” He shrugged.

”You’re just bored,” You repeated in a dead voice and he nodded, ”You dragged me out, because you were bored. Wha- Don’t you have friends?”

”Hey I have friends,” He laughed and dramatically placed his hand on his heart, ”They have important things to do, is all.”

”How isn’t my lecture important?” You asked, feeling something familiar in your heart. It’s like you were talking to your boyfriend. Your things didn’t matter but his did. Your schedule was irrelevant as always-

”It’s not that it isn’t important, it’s that it’s simple mathematics. I have no doubt in my mind that you couldn’t do it,” He told you, and he was right. You knew everything that course had to offer yet you still diligently made notes and sat through it.

”You don’t always have to be goodie-two-shoes. Sometimes it’s good be carefree and do what you enjoy, you should learn that,” He said, smiling as usual, ”So what do you like to do in your free time?”

”Study,” You deadpanned and he laughed, taking it as a joke.

”You have a lot to learn, but thankfully you’ll be learning from the best,” He pointed his thumbs at himself and playfully nudged you, ”Now c’mon let’s go.”

You followed Taehyung through the school hallways and you realised where you were headed to; the cafeteria,

”You couldn’t wait 20 minutes for lunch?” You laughed as you queued up for food.

”No, I’m really hungry,” He confessed coyly and lifted his index finger as if he was a professional speaker, ”Food is important,” He said in a deep voice. ”Food is fuel.”

You couldn’t really argue about that, food was important and you really didn’t mind the company. Usually you ate alone or with Jimin when his friends were too busy to join him. Carrying your tray you followed Taehyung to a table of his choosing. He chose one in the middle of the cafeteria but it didn’t matter since you were the only ones there. As soon as Taehyung sat down he started shoveling food in his mouth,

“You know, I know you saw me on Friday morning,” He said, mouth full of food, “And I know it’s why you looked so shocked when you ran into me the same day.”

On Friday morning both you and Jimin walked through the campus together, just trying to get to your classes. You tugged at Jimin’s sleeve when you heard commotion coming from behind the library. You walked closer with him to see a man in beat the life out of someone, only thing that stayed on your mind was the red bandana sticking out of his back pocket. Blood on the victim’s face splattered to the wall as the attacker threw a side hook to his cheek.

“We’ve got to help him,” You pulled Jimin’s arm but he ripped it out of your grip,

“It’s not our place to intervene.”

“But-”

“I said no. Get moving Y/n,” He told you sternly and started walking towards the main building, not looking back once. You stood there, considering of helping but you couldn’t do it. There’s no way a small girl like you would have the authority to break off a fight between two grown men.

The moment you crashed into Taehyung you recognized the bandana on his head, he was the attacker. It made you scared out of your mind and you wanted out of the situation immediately. You only got more uncomfortable when he helped you. He was brutally beating someone hours prior, but right then he lend you a hand with the sweetest smile.

“I have history with Jimin. That’s why he didn’t barge in,” Taehyung continued while slopping the food in his mouth. You on the other hand didn’t feel hungry anymore. You felt scared. Why did he bring it up? Did he want something from you?

“Though I thought he would’ve at least come to yell some curses at me since after all it was his friend who I was beating- Why do you look like that? Do you need to throw up?” He stopped talking when he glanced at your pale face. Placing down the utensils he cocked his head, waiting for you to say something.

“You beat up my boyfriend’s friend,” You stated to yourself, and he nodded in confusion. You brought your hands closer to your body and fiddled with your fingers. Trying to gather the courage, you finally managed to look Taehyung in the eyes, “Did you beat up him too?”

“That’s not what I was saying,” Taehyung shook his hands defending his words but he started rambling, “But yes I have… Has he not told you? It’s not like I like to have these fights but Jimin and his pals won’t leave me alone. They’ve been bugging me for so long. Calling me names, sabotaging my things…Ahh I don’t want to get into it,” He finished his thoughts while looking down at his feet. There was something Taehyung was insecure about but you couldn’t pinpoint it just yet.

You gently put your hand closer to Taehyung. Something told you he was sincere, maybe he was a master manipulator but you just wanted to believe him. The ache that shone through his expression made you to give him the benefit of the doubt. He saw your hand from the corner of his eye and gradually followed it to your smiling face.

“I’m sure you have your reasons. I’m not to judge,” You told him genuinely. He sighed, it was like a burden was lifted off his shoulders and all you did is have some basic understanding.

“He hasn’t told me though…I wonder why,” You answered his question. You tapped your jaw with your index finger as you pondered further. You’ve seen Jimin with bruises but when you’ve asked about them he told you to leave it be and not ask anymore questions.

“I’m sorry for asking this. I know it’s none of my business but,” He started off, “It seems like you’ve never denied Jimin of anything. Does he not allow you to speak your mind?”

“If I try to tell him something he scoffs at me or shuts me up-”

“So you’ve always done as he says? You’ve never made your own choice?”

“Well… Yeah…” You said coyly rubbing your arm.

“Here’s your chance then.” The grin set on his face, ”Jimin is walking here right now and staring at me pretty harshly, hope he doesn’t want to kill me right here,” He joked, though never losing the eye contact with Jimin, “Go if you want to, stay if you want to. Make up your own mind. You’re your own individual and not his puppet,” Taehyung told you.

You were so focused on the conversation with Taehyung that you didn’t realise the cafeteria slowly filling with other students. And of course other students would mean your boyfriend, too.

“Let’s get going,” Your boyfriend tapped your shoulder. You turned to him to find out his eyes were glued on Taehyung. What was this game they had going on? You glanced at Taehyung for help but he just gave you an encouraging nod. He wanted you to make up your own mind, it didn’t matter if you left him right there if that decision came from you and not Jimin.

“Ummm… No thank you. I’m talking to Tae,” You smiled at Jimin. His head snapped to look at you. You’ve never seen him so confused as right now.

“What do you mean? Let’s go. Now,” He said strictly, giving you another chance to comply but you shook your head.

“I’m with Tae. I’ll see you later.”

“Who’s gonna take you home then?” He asked a simple question but it sounded like a threat. You’d lose your ride if you didn’t go with him even though he still had one lecture left for the day.

“I’ll walk,” You brushed him off and turned back towards the table. You took a sip of water to calm down your nerves, just begging you won’t choke on it.

“Fine. Talk to this village idiot then,” He spat and turned on his heel. Even from his walk you could tell he was pissed to no end. If looks could kill, Taehyung would be dead for the nth time just in these few minutes. Taehyung kept a casual gaze towards Jimin the whole time, smirking as a mark of victory.

”Wow that was great,” Taehyung grinned and almost slow clapped it out for you but you stopped him by grabbing his arm but his grin just widened,”I never knew you had the guts to do that. I’m impressed. You even called me Tae, nice job on that one.”

”My heart is beating so fast. This is the first time I’m not following his orders,” You said. You felt giddy, it was exciting to make your own decisions no matter how small.

”I called you Tae on purpose, just to piss him off,” You confessed with a hand over your mouth. Tae was more intimate than Taehyung, it’s a nickname. You guessed that if you said it infront of Jimin you’d get a more dramatic reaction out of him, and you were right, that face Jimin made when you said it...

”You’re worse than I thought! You show great potential,” He gasped jokingly before the boxy grin set its place on his face again. Poking you he said, ”You know I’m going to the lake with the guys and I thought you’d want to join us. I would pick you up.”

”Sure, I’d love that,” You bit your lip from smiling ear to ear. You’re rarely invited to anything, if you are then it’s because of Jimin. So you’re gonna accept the only invitation that was truly for you.

After finishing your lunch you both walked outside, heading home. Your mind was still on the skipped class. You never played hookie so it just stuck in your head. Though it was great excitement to leave class and not comply to your boyfriend’s orders, it left you regretful and insecure.

“Are you gonna take the bus home?” Taehyung asked when you walked down the stairs in main hall towards his motorcycle. He parks it next to the library building to avoid anyone knocking it down with their car and if anyone was to mess with it they’d get caught because the library security cameras reached there.

“No, I’m walking home,” You responded with a smile, “You heard me say it.”

“I thought that was some kind of threat against Jimin,” He chuckled, “I’ll take you.”

“No, no, it’ll be just 30 minute walk,” You denied his request. You wouldn’t want to bother him that much. And little walk never hurt anybody. It was a warm day and you liked to look at the nature on your way.

“Come with me and it’ll be 10 minutes.”

“Are you sure?”

“If I wasn’t I wouldn’t ask,” He singsong with a small smile on his lips.

You finally caved in and followed Taehyung to his motorcycle. He handed you his helmet and got on the bike. You fiddled around, trying to lock the strap but eventually failing,

“I don’t know how,” You whined like you were 5 years old, “It’s one string and two loops. How am I supposed to tie it?” Taehyung chuckled at your antics and motioned for you to get closer,

“The strap goes through both of the loops first,” He explained as he pulled your head closer for his reach. He pulled the strap through the loops and tightened it carefully not to hurt you, “Here’s when you fasten it, then it does a little loop before goes again through the first loop. And ta-da you’re all set,” He took his hands off the helmet and smiled from ear to ear.

As before, your heart jumped when the engine started purring underneath. Were you ever going to get used to it? Just few days prior you were on a motorcycle for the first time but now… you realized you missed it. It’s something so freeing about driving on the road while the scenery passes by, it’s almost like you’re flying when the wind blows through your hair. You’re just gliding on the road on two wheels at the mercy of the surrounding world.

Taehyung pulled up in front of your garage and you already started whining, not wanting the ride to end,

“Does it have to end here?”

“Everything has to come to an end,” He chuckled at your puppy like expression, “Take your swimming trunks… Or whatever girls take to swimming…”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his awkwardness,

“They’re called bikinis,” You laughed and smirked teasingly, ” Anyway I’ll be back soon. I’ll just drop my bag and grab the bikini.”

Taehyung nodded and hit himself in the head for being so stiff. He turned the bike around while waiting for you, it would be easier to drive away that way.

You ran to your room, hopping over stairs to get there faster. You emptied your closet on the floor and nearly yelled for your mom, where are they? You rummaged through a drawer until your eyes found the bikinis.

“Damn you were fast,” He said looking at his watch when you came out of your house. You hopped back on his bike,

“Yup. I’m ready to go,” You tapped his side. He nodded and started the bike,

“To the lake we go!”

You were driving about 40 minutes when you began to be surrounded by trees. You didn’t know where you were. The road was narrow, curvy, and full of potholes. You saw no one else driving there. You weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

Soon enough you saw two men sitting on their parked motorcycles on the side of the road. Both wearing the same leather jacket as Taehyung, with same details and same patches. On their upper backs read “Bangtan” with a curved front.

Taehyung pulled up next to them. He turned off his motorcycle and waited for you to get off first.

“You brought a girl,” The white haired man stated dully, but then came in for a handshake introducing himself, ”I’m Yoongi.”

You shook his hand and introduced yourself back. He didn’t go to your school, you had no recollection of seeing him before. You thought all of the members went to your school.

You waited for the other guy to do something but he just sat on the bike.

“This is Jeongguk, you might know him already or seen him before,” Taehyung told you and motioned towards him. You did recognize him as he turned his head towards you. He went to the same university and played for the baseball team, you’ve seen him a hand full of times but you’ve never talked to him.

Jeongguk nodded at you cooly before getting off his bike and starting to walk into the woods with everyone following him,

“I’m not keeping my shirt on because a girl is here,” Jeongguk scoffed at Taehyung who just laughed in response.

It wasn’t a long walk to the lake, you just followed a small trail to the open woods. You tugged on Taehyung’s sleeve as he set down his bag to ask him,

“Why did he say that…” You trailed off as fast as you started the sentence when Jeongguk took off his jacket, following with his white t-shirt. His muscles were so prominent you were sure it was a work of art. A Greek God. You were in a dream, you must’ve been.

Taehyung’s deep chuckle interrupted your thoughts and you finally unglued your eyes from Jeongguk,

“That’s why. Every girl who sees him shirtless has that same exact reaction,” He laughed. You nodded and tried to hide your blushing face. You sighed in relief that you changed your bikini on at home. You couldn’t deal with another embarrassing moment of changing in front of a group of guys.

You set your jeans and hoodie on a boulder to avoid dirt and bugs, or that’s what you hoped. Jeongguk and Yoongi were already in the water, splashing it on each other’s faces. But where’s Taeh-

You shrieked as you were suddenly lifted up in the air. He threw you on his shoulder, and you pounded your hands on his back. You continued it in protest but he just chuckled.

“It’s not gonna be too cold,” Taehyung said, but he wasn’t believing his own words either. He entered the water and instead of smacking you down in it he let you go. However it was still bad since when he let you down the water still reached above your belly button.

“It’s not that cold,” Yoongi laughed how you held your arms in front you and shivered. You haven’t been in water for a long time so you had to get used to it.

“Now since we have an even amount of people…” Taehyung said smirking, “Two versus two.”

“You’re on,” Jeongguk lifted his eyebrows and ordered Yoongi to sit on his shoulders.

“Oh no,” You whispered underneath your breath. You knew where this was headed to, shoulder wars.

Taehyung squatted all the way down to help you get up. You did what you had to do and got on. Yoongi shot you the most murderous look you’ve ever seen, but it didn’t scare you. You’re in it to win it.

Jeongguk stepped closer with Yoongi on his shoulders. He put his arms in front of him getting ready to push you down. You followed his movements while Taehyung chanted words of encouragement.

You caught Yoongi by his biceps and tried to push him down but he refused to topple. Instead Yoongi grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. He leaned too far back making Jeongguk wobble and Yoongi lost all of his balance. He went under water as the other guys laughed.

“Yoongi get up,” Jeongguk snorted and helped his shorter friend up on his shoulders again, “We can’t lose to them.”

You got ready for the second round. Just hopefully winning the first round wasn’t beginners luck but alas. Jeongguk charged towards you and Taehyung. Within just few seconds Yoongi crashed into you and you were all sent flying. The guys all laughed together. And for the first time in forever you were genuinely having fun. Maybe befriending bikers wasn’t bad after all.

“Oh who do we have here,” A voice called from the shore, “Is it the Bangtan bitches I see here. And is - is that a girlie they are with. Oh my,” He said unnecessarily loud and brashly to his friend, meaning for you to hear it.

Taehyung took a couple of steps to block your line of sight to the shore as he heard the man talking. The guys’ full attention was now towards the two guys standing next to their pile of clothes. The friendly and happy atmosphere was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck off Jack,” Jeongguk yelled back. Even from the back of his head you could tell how annoyed he got by that guy.

“Do you all fuck her at the same time or take turns? Three holes right?” Jack roared with laughter, leaning on his friend he wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“Did you really follow us just to get your ass beat up again?” Jeongguk asked sarcastically as he walked out of the water, you and the others following behind. You went to your clothes that were thankfully further away from the two guys. You put on your shirt to feel little less vulnerable.

“There’s three of us and two of you. How do you think you’re going to win?” Taehyung scoffed. This was the first time you didn’t feel bad about being excluded. Fuck this situation.

“I don’t know but riddle me this,” Jack smirked, “It would be a shame if someone did something to your bikes. They’re so neatly parked next to the road. What would you do?”

The gang shared quick looks before Yoongi muttered curses and fetched his bag. He always kept some tools with him just in case this type of situation happened. He ran past you and touched your shoulder to say to hang in there.

“Now it’s two versus two. How’s your daddy doing by the way Jeon?” Jack tilted his head and mockingly pouted his lower lip. The question was a totally normal one to ask but the way he said it meant to hurt, it just left you wondering.

“You wouldn’t know would you?” Jack ridiculed Jeongguk, and it worked. You saw how his back muscles tensed further. Jack continued with a smirk, but he focused his taunting on something else, “You know she has two hands so we could join you with Mark.”

“Yeah she looks real pretty,” Mark said in a disgustingly greasy way, coming closer to you with his hand stretched out. You closed your eyes and turned your head away from him, you didn’t want him to touch you.

You waited for the contact but it didn’t happen. You opened your eyes to see his hand in Jeongguk’s death grip just inches away from your face. You saw how his chest just heaved from pure anger.

“You should’ve just said you were into beatings. I could’ve given you one for free,” Jeongguk stated with absolute fury in his eyes.

“Oh so you’re the one fucking her,” Mark’s maniac grin grew bigger. He winked, “Mind if we share?”

Jeongguk grabbed Mark’s right hand with both of his, placing his thumbs on back of his hand, tilting it towards Mark and then quickly turning it to the left. Mark’s whole body followed his hand like a chain reaction, having to fall instead of getting his wrist broken. He grunted as face planted the ground hard.

“Did your mom never teach you manners?” Jeongguk kicked Mark’s stomach.

With big eyes Jack looked between Mark and Jeongguk,

“You shouldn’t have done that,” He yelled.

Jack ran towards Jeongguk with his fist up. Jeongguk just blandly looked at him and turned his upper body to dodge, the fist almost brushing against his nose.

“And you shouldn’t make those insanely dumb loading movements with your whole torso,” Taehyung laughed, “We can see your punches from miles away. It’s hilarious. This is why you always lose.”

Mark wasn’t so sure of Taehyung’s words as he attached himself to his leg. Taehyung kicked him off with his other foot. He grabbed the collar of Mark’s shirt and dragged him up. The fists started flying as soon as Mark’s legs were grounded.

Taehyung jumped around, jabbing Mark in head and stomach once in a while, he was having fun with this one. Mark tried his best to let his fists hit something but Taehyung kept blocking and dodging them. When Mark’s left elbow came towards Taehyung’s face the game ended, as he just barely manage to avoid it. Taehyung bent his knees to dodge, and jumped towards the other, knocking him on the ground.

Jeongguk fought a bit differently compared to Taehyung. It was like he was out for blood. Taehyung was playing around, having fun, being equal with his opponent but Jeongguk ruled over his fight, as if he was fighting for death.

Jack’s face was beat into a bloody pulp and Jeongguk didn’t stop, he kept going and going. His hand wrapped around Jack’s throat as the punches came rarer but harder. You watched from afar, not knowing what to do. Your heart was in your throat. You just watched as Jeongguk’s fist spread the blood all over Jack’s face. It splattered on Jeongguk’s bare torso, arm, and face on every hit.

“Fucking stop Jeongguk!”

Jeongguk ripped his arm back from Taehyung’s grip, hitting Jack’s face again. Jack’s lip was busted open and his eye was swollen shut. Mark looked from the side with a bloody nose, he had surrendered not wanting to get hurt even more.

You sighed from relief when Yoongi ran past you, tackling Jeongguk from the side but ultimately failing. He and Taehyung struggled to pull Jeongguk up as he was still swinging punches.

“You’re gonna kill him!” Taehyung roared again deep from his chest.

They got Jeongguk far from Jack and just barely managed to keep him still. The fire was still seated in his eyes. As far as he knows, nothing is going to stop what he started. Jack laid on the ground heaving, making effort to breath. Blood dripped down, puddling up next to his face.

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