#I respect women too much to stay silent and I will never apologize for speaking up even when it seems ‘trivial’ but I also am

[makotonaegiunderstander]

eugh that whole ridiculous drama put such a bad taste in my mouth. I hate leaving misunderstandings alone but at this point other’s perceptions of the situation are pretty set it seems. was genuinely not trying to start beef but it seems people like looking for it, and I totally forgot how easy it is to start drama the moment you even hint about the existence of subconscious misogyny in groups. as if that’s not something present in every single person alive, and something you should certainly not be dismissive of just bc the issues started with fictional characters, but I digress. I deleted my reblogs bc I don’t want to leave all that up here and give more reasons for drama. they chose me to be their bad guy and that’s just going to be the way it is. anyway sorry for the drama you guys. didn’t expect people to freak out so bad at the slightest provocation. forgot DR was an active bomb situation outside of friends LMAO

[alysrivrs]

❛ ♡. gif credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍. ❜

★ ⎯⎯ prince aemond and his betrothed take a stroll together in the royal gardens, though a bit more happens on this ‘stroll’ than he had previously anticipated.

𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: i don’t really know what this is, but i was heavily caffeinated & wanted to write something with mostly fluff in it, so… happy reading & enjoy ! ♡

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: mdni, suggestive themes, slightly dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, first kiss (reader), period-typical sexism, misogyny (women are more than breeding machines, aemond!), innocence kink, breeding kink, possessive & obsessive behavior, pet names, romance, fluff—any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 1.7k

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒.

aemond could recall the way you smelled by memory—like freshly ripened strawberries, white roses, sweetened vanilla, your hair was always luscious and soft, like the white satin dress you chose to wear today due to the summer heat in king’s landing.

or maybe, you wished to seek him out and gain more of his attention?

if aemond were to be honest with himself, it worked—oh, how it worked.

“tell me, darling—is the color of your lily-white dress an indication of your virtue?” he mused, causing your cheeks to flush and become dewy from the early afternoon sun, blooming flowers surrounding the two of you.

you couldn’t speak, too embarrassed by your betrothed’s sudden teasing—besides… how scandalous would it be if someone were to eavesdrop on your conversation with the one-eyed prince?

aemond smirked, amused by your shy reaction.

‘twas not as if you were in private, no—the prince demanded your presence once he had finished with his morning training, wishing to take you on a stroll in the royal gardens of the red keep, knowing how much you adored the sight of flowers.

still, no matter how scandalous your dress seemed to others, the heat in king’s landing was quite stifling—even more so with aemond carefully observing you, his amethyst eye sharp and intense as he walked alongside you, not paying any attention to the flowers around you both.

aemond was content to just simply gaze down at you, his own pretty, little flower—soon to blossom into a woman grown, as soon as he would take you under his protection as his lady wife, as far as traditions go.

he made you incredibly nervous—with his long strands of silver hair, his sharp yet handsome features, his prominent nose, his lithe but strong frame, his tall height (which towered over you), those soft, naturally curved lips of his… seven above, you could go on and on!

unbelievably, you seemed to have his full, undivided attention, which made your heart flutter—having the prince all to yourself?

you felt as if you were in some sort of dream—perhaps, you were.

especially with the way aemond treated you—respectful and kind, though you could always see a darkened gleam in his one-eye, as if he were holding himself back from something.

it made your soft, inner thighs slick with arousal—it also had you praying to the seven above each and every evening before bed, begging for forgiveness for your depraved thoughts of your betrothed.

in any case, aemond was much, much worse than you.

aemond could not seem to control himself around you, his cock hardening by the second the more he spent his time with you—alone.

“my sweet lady,” he murmured, interrupting your compliments of the colorful flowers, as he allowed you to do most of the talking as you two walked together, side by side.

aemond was never big on conversation, he never had been, preferring to stay silent and keep his thoughts concealed to himself, in fear of being mocked as he was when he was just a child.

you paused, looking up at the prince—his one natural eye was amethyst in color, the other a sparkling sapphire gem he’d stuffed into his left eye socket when he was just a boy, after his eye had been stolen by his bastard nephew.

however, as you looked up at aemond, there was only one word in your mind—beautiful.

still, he was touched that you didn’t seem afraid of him—in fact, you seemed greatly insulted when he would wear his leather eyepatch around you, claiming it unnecessary and that you wished to see your betrothed whole—every single inch of him.

perhaps, that was the moment aemond one-eye fell irrevocably in love with you.

a moment of silence passed—not uncomfortable, just two soon-to-be lovers gazing at each other.

“may i kiss you, my lady?” he questioned, watching your doe eyes widen, your pink, plump lips parting open slightly in surprise.

“k-kiss me?” you stammered, so sweet and innocent and his.

you didn’t have it in your heart to deny him—in fact, you wanted nothing more than to feel his plush, curved mouth upon yours—desperately.

you nodded, eagerly giving him your consent.

aemond chuckled, quiet and breathy, amused by your sudden eagerness—his shy girl no longer.

immediately, without waiting another second, the prince moved to cup the sides of your flushed face with both of his big, calloused hands, before bending his knees slightly and capturing your lips in a needy, passionate kiss—hearing you release a soft, breathy moan of bliss.

aemond hummed, pleased.

unexpectedly, you kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm, though a bit clumsy, making him think to himself that perhaps this was your first kiss—your first kiss with a man.

the thought excited aemond, which also caused his cock to ache with need—to feel your wet, tight little cunt wrapped around his cock, squeezing him like a vise, right before he would start fucking into your warmth at a frenzied pace, mad with lust for you.

you were a soft, sensitive little thing, with a heart made of glass, meant to be protected, loved, spoiled… and aemond was the perfect man for the role.

he’d cherish you like his queen, love you with every breath he took and beat of his heart—the kind of love that would be told for centuries to come—legendary.

after several seconds of growing accustomed to the way your lips molded together—so perfectly—aemond easily slipped his tongue into your mouth—exploring its delicious sweetness.

strawberries, white roses, and sweetened vanilla.

your scent, your taste—it all filled his senses, making his cock strain even more inside of his leather breeches, while he continuously kissed you more and more, like a man starved until he thought he could never stop.

clearly, you did not wish to stop either.

your soft hands clawed at his back, tugging on his long strands of silver hair, clinging to his lithe form with desperation—a need so strong, aemond had half the mind to bend you over the nearest bench, lift up your pretty, satin skirts and fuck you from behind like a wild beast in his rut.

after several longer moments, you pulled away, gasping for air, though your lips still continued to gently brush against his, both of you panting and sharing the same breath—lips kiss-swollen and desperate for more from one another.

aemond’s eyes were heavy lidded and filled with lust—his amethyst eye practically dilated black and his sparkling sapphire eye shining dangerously with the need to touch you, to fuck you, to spill his seed deep inside of your womb—so deep, you’d be carrying his son by morning.

nevertheless, aemond was a gentleman—he could be patient, though that didn’t stop his depraved thoughts of taking your maidenhead on your wedding night, which was quickly approaching by the days—thank the gods.

soon, you’d be his wife—his lady targaryen.

his and only his.

“perhaps, we s-should return b-back inside, my prince? ‘tis nearly lunchtime… the queen mother requested my presence—she wishes to go over the flower arrangements for our wedding,” you spoke breathlessly, your voice slightly shaky from the intensity of the kiss you both shared.

aemond hummed, nodding his head once in agreement, his face returning back to its usual stoic expression—though his cheeks were still tinted pink and his cock was surely leaking inside of his breeches now… as if he were a little boy once again!

how fucking ridiculous, that he had gotten hard after just simple kissing—however, technically it wasn’t just ‘simple kissing’, not when he was so hopelessly in love.

instantly, aemond offered you one of his lean arms, a silent offer to escort you to his dearest mother’s private solar… and maybe even indulge in some of the ladies newest gossip about your upcoming nuptials—if only to spend more time in your presence.

aemond could not give less of a fuck about what any of the simpering, aggravating noblewomen had to say or gossip about—he only cared for you and what you had to say.

therefore, he would endure the torturous boredom of the ladies of the court, even if he thought each and every single one of them were poisonous, nasty creatures.

be that as it may, aemond would only do such a thing to remain by your side for the rest of the day… and to harshly glare threateningly at any lady who even looked at you the wrong way.

it seemed, the longer aemond spent his time in your gentle presence, the more he grew obsessed—your beautiful and relaxing voice, your sweet smiles, your gentle touch, your naïveté.

seven hells, you were the most breathtaking creature he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing, even with only his one-eye.

when aemond did observe you, which was quite often now as he couldn’t bear to tear his eye away from you, he’d notice the little things about you—causing his world to stop and revolve only around you.

you, you, you.

snapping out of his lovesick thoughts, aemond glanced down at you as you looped your own arm around his offered one, making his blackened heart give a tiny flutter as you smiled so prettily up at him.

“shall we, my sweet lady?” he questioned, his voice a low rasp, controlled and steady, but he did try his best effort with being soft with you, not wanting to scare you off and have you believe the vile rumors spread about him from the court gossipers.

he knew he had quite the temper, the targaryen madness, they called it.

you giggled, “of course, my prince.”

fuck, aemond was quite certainly fucking doomed by having you as his future lady wife—so sweet, caring and loving, the way you seemed so docile and yearned for children of your own… you’d make a lovely mother to his sons, that he was certain.

just as a lovely mother to his future heirs, you’d also make the most perfect wife, he decided.

obedient, doting, gentle, tender and loving—aemond could not wait to make you his little wife, and have his firstborn son swelling inside of your womb.

until then, aemond would portray himself as the perfect gentleman (as usual)—that is, until your wedding night arrives.

fin

[radiant-reid]

idk if the first one got sent-

(ok this is one of the worst things to talk ab on international womens day of all days bUT-)

i know that i, a modern day feminist, wants ANY man to know that i can handle myself in any situation like that anon ask but now bc of said ask i need blurbs of husband(or boyfriend or pining, idc)!spencer standing up for or defending reader or else. i wont take no for an answer girlies, so ima need you to drop recs in the comments

-🐝

of course. i'm sorry it's so late <3

Spencer is used to being the odd one out. He's the youngest member of the BAU, and his intellect often sets him apart from his colleagues.

But he has never felt as uncomfortable as he does now, standing in the crowded police precinct, surrounded by men who were openly leering at you.

It had started with a few offhand comments, the kind that was meant to be funny but left a sour taste in Spencer's mouth. Then it had escalated to outright harassment, with some of the officers making suggestive gestures as you walked by.

Spencer had tried to ignore it at first, let you deal with it as you saw most appropriate and focus on the task at hand, but as the comments became more aggressive and personal, he knew he couldn't stay silent any longer.

"Excuse me." He says, stepping in front of you and facing the group of officers. "Can we please focus on the case at hand? We're all here to solve a crime, not to make inappropriate comments about our colleagues." The officers laugh, but Spencer stands his ground. "I'm serious." He says, his voice rising with anger. "This behavior is unacceptable, and it needs to stop."

One of the officers, a burly man with a thick mustache and bad body odor, steps forward. "What's the matter, pretty boy?" He sneers. "Can't handle a little locker room talk?"

Spencer feels a surge of rage. How could these men be so callous, so disrespectful? No matter what room it happens in, it's wrong. He takes a step forward, ready to confront the officer, but before he can say anything, you speak up.

"Excuse me." You say, keeping a calm but firm voice. You've kept quiet out of ease, blowing up at them would only make the whole working relationship tense, and to save people, everyone needs to be working together. "I don't appreciate being talked about like I'm a piece of meat. And I'm sure the families of the victims we're here to help wouldn't appreciate it either."

The room falls silent, and for a moment, Spencer thinks the officers might apologize and back off. But then the mustache man steps forward again, his face twisted in anger.

"Who do you think you are?" He growls. "Coming in here, telling us how to do our jobs?"

"I'm not telling you how to do your job." You say. "I'm asking you to show me respect."

The officer scoffs. "Respect? You want respect? How about you show us a little respect and stop acting like you're better than us?"

Spencer can feel his blood boiling. This man is completely out of line, and he knows he had to do something before the situation gets out of hand.

"Excuse me." He says, his voice steady but forceful. "Y/n is not acting like she's better than anyone. She's simply asking to be treated with basic human decency. That isn't too much to ask."

The officer glares at Spencer, but before he can say anything, the door to the precinct opens, and a man in a suit walks in.

"What's going on here?" He asks, looking around the room.

Spencer recognizes him as the captain of the precinct, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Maybe with a higher-up present, the officers will back off.

But the mustache man isn't done yet. "These feds are coming in here, telling us how to do our jobs, and then they're crying about being disrespected? Give me a break."

The captain raises an eyebrow. "Is that true?" He asked, looking at you. It seems impossible he's even questioning your truthfulness.

Spencer takes a deep breath, ready to defend you until the end. "No, sir." He says. "We're here to work with you, not against you. But we won't tolerate being harassed. Agent L/n hasn't reacted to any of the disgusting comments coming from your officers, but one more and all the sanctions you can imagine will be filed against your officers and you as their supervisor." He's always been respectful of authority, drawn inside the line, but this is an argument he's not going to back down from.

Thankfully, the captain understands the seriousness of what's gone on. You're willing to give him the benefit of the doubt that he has just had his head in the sand for the last few days. It's not surprising when he's spent most of the time in his office with the blinds drawn. "Outside, all of you. Now." He sounds furious, scowling at them.

You turn to him, nudging his shoulder. "Thanks."

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry you had to listen to that crap, and I hope I didn't overstep by stepping in."

"Not at all." You assure him. "Thank you for it, truly."

[mahi-wayy]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑-𝐈𝐈𝐈 | 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑨𝑫𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫

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“I love someone else.” 

He is pretty sure he has sounded this harsh and straightforward a handful of times, his whole focus right now was the woman refusing to break eye contact with him, the fact that Kattappa and his mother was still in the room was pretty much a blur in his mind.

“So you won't marry me? Is that what you're saying?”

Since she was so good at reading silence he decided to remain silent looking back at her with the same challenge he saw in her eyes.

“And here I thought you said he would never let your words down.”

The woman turns her body towards his mother, he can see her jaw clenching before she speaks.

“He will keep my word.”

“He just said he doesn't want to marry me, what brand of keeping words is this?”

Now that statement had no answer other than Sivagami giving him an enraged and disappointed look before looking away. Damn it.

“See in case I wasn't clear enough, I'm not the one who has anything to lose, I'm not even interested in marriage, this is just for survival. The one who has to lose is a kingdom with a population of lakhs. I have already lost my palace, yours however would be massacred, all because you had this crazy delusion that you have an obedient son who respected and loved you enough to keep your words but turns out you have no control over him whatsoever. Not going to lie I am starting to doubt if you even run this kingdo-”

“Enough!”

He yelled out louder than he anticipated but the way that woman was talking with a straight face and flat tone with undercurrents of mocking from the very beginning of this whole conversation has exhausted his patience.

“You're crossing more lines than you think, Maharani.”

She looks back at him with blank eyes and something tells him that the animated personality they have seen her portray till now was all an illusion,  an illusion casted by her to get them right where she wanted.

“I never said no, you just assumed it."

He has no idea what would happen but he is not going to let his mother hear these kinds of things, even if it cost him the woman he loved.

“My apologies, my prince. I misread your silence.”

Her body shifts to face his mother again before she continues.

“Apologies to you too, my queen.”

Good lord he never thought one person can sound so different in a span of seconds. The way her tone went from underlying provoking to totally blank had a chill running up his spine.

She curtsied lightly before walking out of the room and the sudden heaviness and pressure lifting off the room had him conscious of his staying on his feet and didn't fall back on the chair.

“So you love Devasena”

Nevermind, he slums down in the chair right behind him just as his mother sits down. He was beyond exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically but this conversation needs to happen.

“Ma-”

The way she raised her hand to cut him off really told him she wasn't happy with him at the moment. 

“She isn't suitable for you Bahu, the better you accept that the better.”

He licks his bottom lip, it's dry just like his throat right now, he knew that Devsena wasn't his mother's favourite exactly but that can't change the fact that he was in love with her.

“Ma, janta hun rajkumari ko aap naapasand karti hai isliye mere yogya nahi manti. Lekin mein prem karta hun unse aur hamesha karunga, is baat ko badala nahi jaa sakta. ”

With that he stands up bows in a good night greeting before walking out, he wants to faceplant in his bed now because tomorrow isn't going to be nice.

It was quiet. 

That was the first thing that the young prince noticed the next morning, the palace was too normal to have three such strong women staying in it, especially when neither of them seemed to like each other.

But seriously Bahubali thinks it has to do something to do with his stars or something, how else does one land up in a situation like where the only one even remotely ready to listen to anything was him and only him.

For now he just  sighs walking towards the training grounds so he can physically let some tension go when he runs into Kattappa.

“Suprabhat mama.”

He wishes the man in a tired voice only to receive a couple of strong pats on his back as they both walk side by side.

“You seem tired, couldn't sleep last night?” 

“Yeah, I just can't stop thinking.”

The older male gives him a sympathetic smile while squeezing his shoulder and he feels just a little better. It's good to know he isn't alone here.

The two chat up a little more before Kattappa notices some soldiers standing outside of the training area.

“Why are you all here? When you are suppose to be preparing for helping the prince in his training??” The general asks, his voice authoritative and commanding.

“We-um, the grounds are already occupied sir.”

“Occupied and by whom? Who dares to use the training area knowing very well the prince comes out to train at this hour?”

Kattappa gets his answer in the form of sword clanking sounds, they make their way towards the commotion, where Bahubali decided to contemplate his stars again when the people sparring turn out to be the two royal guests.

Ayudhina and Devasena were having it out right infront of them. Though dressed in similar training outfits of a dhoti and armor the females wielded two very different weapons. The latter was swinging her sword with both a practised and dangerous ease while the former's contol over the spear appears natural.

He hears the audible gasp from the soldiers behind him when the sword collides with the body of the spear after which Ayudhina kicks the Kuntal princess back.

Yeah he takes back the sparring part, they are out to hurt each other. 

Everyone watches as they get more and more intense with no idea of how this all even began, they were cleary not friendly, as they can see, in anyway to have this initiated as a friendly spar.

“Rajkumari…”

Kattappa's concerned voice brings him out of his head again and he looks infront to see Devsena dodge the spear by a hair length and he swears he has never heard his own heartbeat but right now he can.

This needs to end, they need to be broken away before a mishap takes place.

He steps forward to tell the girls to knock it off when the princess gains a upper hand and it freezes him in spot when Devsena first gets the hold of Ayudhina's spear, lands a blow from the back of her sword right to her gut and then uses all her force in elbowing the older woman before kicking her back.

The armor cracks under Devsena's force as her opponent falls back right into the water pool that usually kept the weapons hidden from sight.

“Next time you pick a fight make sure you're strong enough.”

He has never heard the princess speak like the way she just did, it made his stomach churn and not in good way. At all.

“That's enough.”

He says joining the princess by her side, his voice low and calm not letting his nerves show, he recieves a nod in answer.

The sound of water gives them the conformation that the supposed queen of Chandresha was alright too was alright too.

“One last shot.”

Before he could tell Devsena not to, the woman had already picked up the spear and launched towards the rising figure from the water.

_______________

taglist : @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @vijayasena @voidsteffy @allari-ammayi @mellaga-karagani @rambheem-is-real [let me know if you wanna be added]

[elejah-verse]

Rebound_2

_elejah au

a/n: Elena leaves Mystic Falls after Alaric and Jo's wedding. After travelling for a while, she ends up in New Orleans as a certain Original vampire needs her as she has traveller magic. Also, she didn't take the cure. She is still a vampire.

*

Chateau Allemagne-en-Provence, France, 33 km away from Manosque

"The Provencale witches used Amara and Silas' blood to seal this door." Elijah said.

"And they never thought anyone would be able to open it. But the craziest thing actually is that Katherine had unlocked the traveller's magic in me when she possessed my body." Elena said.

"Something bad for something good." Elijah remarked as he collected the box with the scrolls from a niche behind the door.

"So, we're done here?" Elena asked closing the secret door shut.

"We are." Elijah replied. "I do have one meeting in Aix-en-Provence in a few days."

"Right. So, I can do some sightseeing - drink wine and just chill."

"Yes. In that respect - would you care for some lunch now?" Elijah asked.

"Yes - ok." Elena nodded a little and spun around walking out of the library.

Now that they had the scrolls, time out from the world was, as promised, next on the agenda.

Elena instantly loved everything about Manosque and its surrounding area.

The bell towers that speak of the medieval, Roman and even prehistoric history of the place, the cobbled alleys, the cafés, welcoming shops that give a glimpse of the good life in Provence.

Arriving back in Manosque, they sat down in a bistro.

"I could actually stay here for a while.

"If you seek silence and peace, this is the place. You will be sure to find your rest here, even through the peak of tourist season." Elijah said.

"When did you first come here?" Elena asked.

"In 1206, I persuaded Guillaume IV, the last count of Forcalquier, to grant the city certain privileges. Then it was nothing like it is now, but the area, the nature, had a magical appeal. Every so often I would take time away from the world and my family and spent it here."

"You mean - away from Klaus." Elena, forward as always didn't take any prisoners.

"Yes. As you know that after everything with Katerina - Katherine," the Original corrected himself, "we disagreed on many things - I needed an escape. This places had always provided it."

Elena nodded a little. She knew all too well about his family's history.

Taking a sip of the wine they were served, her attention reverted to a group of women, who were chatting about their visit to the L'Occitane Factory and its Boutique Museum store. The perfumes they opened took her back to the infinite lakes of lavander fields, moors of thyme, oak groves.

She felt that was actually in a strange kind of magical wormhole, something she had experience once before. She suddenly fluttered her eyes closed and then opened it again.

Elena took her glass of wine and walked over to the painting that caught her eye as they entered.

"The beauty of movement captured" Elijah said as he joined her, taking a sip of the wine.

Elena was quiet, her eyes were glued to the painting.

"Is everything all right?" Elijah asked.

"Yes." Elena said softly, looking at Elijah. "Just - this place - I feel like went through a looking glass. It's so unreal."

"It does have this affect on people." Elijah said.

"Yeah - you said - escape."

"From time to time it is so very much needed. Find one's ground again."

"That's why I took off and travelled. I needed to - find myself again."

"You've been through a lot and - a lot is due to us. My family - me."

"You apologized. I accepted it. It's done. Let's not talk heavy stuff. This is an escape - so let's escape"

"Let's" Elijah said, putting his hand out to her, "Dance?"

Elena made a cute smile and took his hand.

Breathing in silently, she battled with her emotions, swaying in to the sounds of music, so close to him. Too close.

The incessive buzzing of his phone, made them break the dance.

Elijah sighed displeased. He pulled the phone out of his inside pocket.

It said Klaus on the display.

"I'm really sorry." Elijah muttered.

"I know." Elena said and stepped back.

Elijah took the call and walked out the bistro.

Elena stood for a moment inside and drew a long breath.

Part of her wished she'd snap out of the fairytale haze that she found herself enwraped in. And then, the other part, didn't want it to finish - ever.

Stepping out of the bistro, she swished to her room in the hotel they were occupying.

She reached for her phone, and scrolled the contacts list to Caroline's name.

She was in need of her best friend. To pour her heart out. Kill the frustration that was on breaking point.

But there was only the voice mail.

Inside, she cursed the day she decided to go to New Orleans.

Elijah was not even her type. Why did she get so wrapped up in him? How did it happen even?

Grabbing her bag, and her jacket, she was about to leave Manosque. Get away.

But then there he stood in her room. Appearing like a ghost out of nowhere.

"I am really sorry about earlier. I should have shut the phone off."

"It's ok. The magical craziness always comes first, same as family." Elena dropped her bag and the jacket on the bench at the foot of the bed.

"Yes - but this time, I have my other siblings that can handle things - and him." Elijah said and motuoned his hand towards her bag on the bench. "You were about to leave?!"

"Yes. To do more escaping. Go and travel again. I just did South America. I've always wanted to travel through Europe."

She gulped. Inhaling silently.

An awkward silence fell between them.

The musky smell of him was magnetic, playing on all her senses.

He was nothing like anyone she had dated.

Every nerve ending in her body shifted as his gaze deepened. She could feel the fire in her belly rise. Her body ached with wanting him.

If someone knew what was in his soul, it was her. She knew that he once again bitterly regretted opening his heart yet again and letting someone in.

Another mistake.

And then she broke the silence. "What is it that we are doing here, Elijah? What is this?"

_to be continued

[xpeachesncream]

bands | thirteen

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.9k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, slight degradation, trouble stirring behind the scenes if you squint, yeonjun and soobin (txt) make an appearance but also as reg 18 yr olds lol

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme​ @min-nicoleee​ @eggbutnotyolk​ @ra-mun-e @miinoongi​ @jimidol​ @ppeachyttae​ @thebeebi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @kooafraid​ @liriaus​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @ggukkieland​ @preciouschimine​ @sunniejinnie​ @cypheruby​ @cyb3rbab3​ @masterlists101​ @awhnamjoon​ @redhedhoseok​ @wooya1224​ @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos​ @un2-verse​ @aynsx​ @wearenot7withu​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"BTS' Jeon Jungkook rumored to be dating stripper from nightclub!"

"Jungkook is no longer single, ladies!"

"Jeon Jungkook is dating a stripper? Why the hell is he doing that?"

"Who the hell does she think she is? I bet she's not even pretty."

"Jungkook fell for a stripper? Out of all people? Damn, and I thought he was better than that."

Jungkook has been tired, the rumors constantly being spread day in and day out. But, it still didn't mean he was gonna say shit to prove himself to people out there. He didn't need to give anybody answers. Hell, this was strictly between you and him and that's how he wants to keep it.

Fuck every single one of you who didn't wanna be behind him and support him. Don't even think about calling yourself a fan of his if that's your mindset.

He could truly care less. He was happy and he felt ten times better than he has in a really long time. It's unfortunate how people love to stay narrow minded. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that it was so unfair for you - how they stuck to that stripper image, rather than really getting to know you beneath the surface.

But it's not like anyone else deserved to know the real you, not after all this shit. And he was gonna keep it that way, and protect you.

"Hey, don't listen to any of that shit, okay?" Jungkook says as he meets you in your car in the BigHit building garage. "None of that matters to me."

"I know, but Kook." You look at him. "Your career, BigHit literally might not even want me here and-and—"

"Then I'll make sure they understand it's not an issue, because it's really fucking not." He says, getting irritated only at the thought of the company giving him issues over you. He watches as you slightly frown, causing him to sigh and soften his own facial expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get worked up like that. It's just annoying how people are narrow-minded. This has absolutely nothing to do with you." You give him a small smile. "Come on, I'll walk you." You silently nod and hop out of your car. You follow beside him, your stomach in knots having to meet with their performance director. This meant you'd also most likely run into the rest of Bangtan.

In which happens to turn true pretty quickly.

"Jungkookie!" Hoseok says loudly down the hallway as he approaches the both of you. He does nothing besides smile, curiosity definitely filling his eyes.

"This is Y/N. Y/N, Hoseok hyung." He holds out his hand for you to shake, his head tilting ever so slightly because you know he's familiar with your face. He's just trying to remember from where. Or, he has recognized you, but he's trying his hardest not to say anything.

Cause they have seen all of you, especially in that fishnet bodysuit.

"Hi! Nice to meet you! You can call me Hobi for short. Are you meeting with someone?" You nod.

"Yeah." Is all you can reply with as you shyly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Nice, goodluck!"

"Is everyone else here?" Jungkook asks, making Hobi nod.

"Yeah, but they're still running through some stuff in the dance studio. I just ran off to take a break."

"Okay." Jungkook looks at you. "Follow me, he's in one of the private studio rooms." You both part ways from Hoseok, the need to clutch onto Jungkook's arm immensely strong right now. You hold yourself off though, because even with passing a few female staff members, you catch them looking at you oddly with the way you're walking side by side with Jungkook.

Nope. Don't even think about it, Y/N. It doesn't matter.

Jungkook knocks softly on a door, the middle of it being made up of entirely frosted glass so it's difficult to see inside. Their performance director opens the door swiftly and welcomes you in with a warm smile, stepping aside to let you in.

"I've got it from here, Jungkookie. Thank you." Jungkook nods but tries to peek through the door to get one last glimpse of your face before he shuts it fully. "How are you doing, Y/N?" He sits in front of you, leaning onto his knees with his hands fully clasped together.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Good, tired." He chuckles. "Thanks for taking my call earlier and for meeting at such short notice on a weekend. I had a couple of things come up and didn't want to push things off until later." You smile.

"It's no problem."

"Jungkook tells me a lot about you."

"Does he now?" You chuckle and tilt your head to the side.

"Says you're a really good person. Super hardworking. Told me a little bit about your situation with your brother."

"Mmyeah, it's a little complicated."

"It's alright, no need to get into the details." He smiles before letting out a small sigh. "It's incredibly rare for me to hear Jungkook speak like that. In general. He's usually very closed off, doesn't like to let people in much. He really respects you, you know? Cares about you a whole lot." You slightly blush.

"I'm still getting used to it." He chuckled.

"Look, I know you've been worrying because of where you've been and all that, but I want to reassure you that none of it matters. I don't like to focus on all that. You're here as you, not her." He says, putting another pronoun to your stripper persona.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." He nods. There's a small pause before he begins to speak again.

"I could really use some help around here if you're still interested? The boys are becoming a lot for me to handle."

"Ah-uh, yeah! Of course I am." You found yourself stuttering at the sudden offer. Was this fucking real?! "But, you are aware of where me and Jungkook are at, right?" You ask, trying to be completely transparent and honest about their relationship. He nods and waves his hand out.

"As long as you keep it professional here, right?" You nod.

"Right."

"Come, let me show you around really quickly and have you formally meet the boys." You swallowed the lump in your throat. Fucking great. He definitely didn't know they've all seen your titties and pussy out during Yoongi's birthday, and now here you were - about to meet them again in this environment. Hobi was awkward enough even though he tried not to be.

Surprisingly, Jungkook wasn't waiting outside in the hallway like you thought he would be, but the tour commences and the PD is taking you around pretty quickly. You feel even more awkward and somewhat alone [even though you weren't] without Jungkook nearby, but you chug along and say your hello's to the people you're introduced to. He finally brings you into the dance studio, where there's loud ass music blasting, Jungkook, the boys and some backup dancers in front of the mirrors fooling around.

"Aye boys, come here real quick." You and Jimin lock eyes and your body suddenly gets tense. The room feels 10x hotter than it already is, especially when he slowly walks over and clenches his jaw. He is literally seeping with hate right now, maybe actually disgust, and he doesn't even try to hide it. Most of them for sure recognize you, but they seem to brush it off and give you a big wave/smile anyway.

"Last, that's Jimin - Jimin, Y/N." You give Jimin a fake smile, and the only thing his ass can reciprocate is the smallest, tight-lipped smile you have ever seen. You've never even seen your mom do that when she got mad or upset with you.

"Hi." Is all you can say.

"Sup." He looks at you before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Ooookay?" Namjoon furrows his brows as he watches Jimin walk away so rudely. "The hell was that about?"

"I knew that was Kookie's girlfriend! Maybe Jiminie remembers seeing her titties and shit too, needs to walk away before he gets his ass beat by him." Yoongi says lowly behind Namjoon.

"Yeah, like you're any better." Namjoon says, looking at Yoongi weirdly.

"I mean, we did see her practically naked." Jin says, chiming into the discussion.

"I touched her." Yoongi's mouth slightly hangs down. "I touched her."

"Go ahead, say it louder so Kookie can hear you." Jin nods sarcastically. "Go, say it!"

"No, stop." Yoongi's cheeks turn red while shaking his head and laughing. "He'll literally launch me out the window with one hand."

"Good."

"You asked for her to sit on your lap too, bro!"

"I was joking, and it's not like she did it anyway!"

"Whatever, I'm keeping my birthday deep in my memory storage."

"Clean slate for her so it should be for you too, my guy." Namjoon says as he has enough of their conversation.

You look at Jungkook who is silently standing there, looking like a big dork with a huge smile on his face and his thumbs up. You give him the tiniest nod before proceeding to follow the PD out.

"So?!" Jungkook dashes to meet you in their waiting room area, where an abnormally large picture of Jimin posing oddly hung up.

"He said he'll send me all the info and papers and stuff!" You respond excitedly as Kook hugs you and quickly swings you around.

"See, I knew it would work out!" He puts you down. "Are you gonna tell Kai?" You shook your head.

"Not today at least, it's his birthday and I don't wanna take away from that. It's his day." Jungkook smiles at you.

"Text me when you've picked him up? I should be home by then."

"Okay." You blush and back away, making Jungkook look at you with confusion. "I have to keep it professional here, duh."

"Ah I see." He chuckles. "That won't last very long."

"Jungkook." You whine.

"There's a lot of private rooms here and—"

"I'm not listening, sorry. I think Kai is suddenly calling me." You cover your ears as you begin to walk away, giving him one last smile before leaving him to the rest of rehearsals and whatever else they're doing. He laughs to himself as he waves you off, excited to get through the day so he can just spend time with you and Kai.

As the hours go on and it's about time for you to pick Kai up, you quickly stop by the store because you're a procrastinator and didn't buy Kai's birthday gift any earlier. You felt bad you weren't able to find the shoes he wanted, but you at least snagged the video game he had been talking about for a couple of days now. Before walking into the arcade, you made sure to write your birthday card and slip some more money into it before shoving it in your bag to give to him later.

"Your pretty sister is here." Yeonjun grabs Kai by the shoulder as he finishes up a game.

"Yeah, and you're too young for her."

"Age is nothing but a number. It's only like.. 6 years apart."

"Besides, she's taken, dude. Sorry." Kai snorts as he watches Yeonjun's smile fade. "You would have never had the chance."

"You're mean."

"I'm mean, or you just have really high, unrealistic expectations?" The rest of their friends laugh as they follow Kai over to you.

"Hey!" You smile at all his friends.

"Hiiiiii Y/N." They all say in unison, some waving in awe, while the others shyly dug their hands into their pockets. "Birthday boy, you all good to go? Got some good Loco Moco waiting for you."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Happy birthday again, Kai! Get online later!" Soobin yells out.

"Yeah, yeah." He says, waving them off as he follows you out to your car.

"You guys run through the entire arcade?" Kai laughs.

"Pretty much." He sinks into his seat, legs damn near touching the glove compartment with how long he is. "I'm honestly so excited for Loco Moco. It's been years!"

"It has not been that long." You laughed.

"You're right, it's been months." Kai looks out the window. "Wait, you're passing the road to get to our go-to shop though?"

"Cause I found a better place."

"How is there a better place when that one was already supreme?!"

"Hey, trust me on this okay?" You laugh. Kai starts telling you about his day and how so many people he knew from school had been messaging him happy birthday. He truly looked his happiest today and it was all you could ask for. Though at the same time, your heart slightly sank at the fact that he'd be going off to uni soon and staying at the dorms. He was just growing up way too fast, and you wanted to spend as much time as you could with him now before he was too occupied being a college boy.

You slipped yourself past Jungkook's security, parking in the one guest spot they have in the garage that's closest to the elevator. Kai doesn't really question it and hops out anyway, his hands in his pockets as he follows you into the elevator and onto Jungkook's floor.

"You ready, kid?"

"Is this some like, Michelin Star Loco Moco restaurant?"

"Ah, I guess you could say that." You knocked on the door, hearing music playing in the background. Jungkook opens the door and Kai's eyes widen.

"Oh shit, that's Jungkook?" Kook laughs and steps aside to let you both in. "Sis why—what—how come you didn't tell me we were seeing your boyfriend? I look like a mess!" He says lowly.

"You don't!"

"Hey Kai! Happy Birthday!" Jungkook says smiling, making Kai actually blush. He's cheeks are tinted with a rosy color and he suddenly gets all shy.

"Thanks."

"Your brother's tall." Jungkook looks at him up and down.

"Looking at an 18 year old 6 footer."

"Must be nice."

"Go sit." Kai silently nods as he sits awkwardly on Kook's couch, while you go and check in on him in the kitchen.

"Is he always that shy?"

"No. Just with you, apparently. He's not even that shy around girls." You chuckle as he places a quick kiss on your head. "Need my help?" You still ask even though the plates are neatly prepared already.

"Not really." He smiles down at you. "You hungry though?"

"Starving, actually." Your eyes light up at the plates. "Ouuuuuu, yum."

"Honestly, I think this batch might be better than my first."

"Still honored to be your guinea pig." You carry a plate over to Jungkook's coffee table in the living room.

"Oh shit, that looks amazing." Kai says, slipping himself down from the couch to the floor so he could get a good whiff of the plate. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jungkook hands you the remote before walking into his room. "Pick something."

"Here, birthday boy. Help me choose."

"Let's watch Soul on Disney+." At this point, Jungkook comes out of his room with a wrapped present, his eyes locked on the TV.

"Ooh, I keep seeing this everywhere! Niceeeee." Jungkook says, smiling with Kai nodding and already digging into his plate. "By the way, this is for you." You shoot him a look as he sits on the floor by you, watching as Kai unwraps the present. Kai's eyes light up as he sees a shoebox underneath the wrapping, quickly flipping the lid open to reveal those blue Air Jordans he wanted.

"Kook?!" You say lowly, making him smile at you and gently pinch your side.

"Holy shit!" He holds out a shoe, only for him to immediately shake his head and close the box again. "Jungkook, I can't take this." Kai says.

"No, it's your birthday."

"Yeah, but isn't this expensive? You've already done so much for me and my sister, I-I don't want to—"

"Kai, it's cool. If it's one thing you can do to repay me, it's to take my present." You literally want to cry at how sweet Jungkook is being with your brother. He had been good to you, no doubt, but this was one thing you didn't expect from him at all. Quite frankly, you had forgotten you mentioned the shoes to him. The fact that he actually remembered and kept his word.

"Okay." Kai says, gently setting the box down aside before looking at Jungkook with a small smile on his face. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. Like, even with the food and everything. It means a lot to me."

"You're welcome." You give him a soft smile before digging into your food while Soul was already off to a start. Kai and Jungkook devour their food together, with you following shortly behind as Jungkook brings over a small ice cream cake from his fridge for Kai to blow his candles on. After the boys had helped themselves to a good serving of the cake, they started getting hyper and pulled up Smash Bros on Kook's Nintendo Switch [as if Kai hadn't played enough games today]. It started to get intense; the boys jumping and yelling everywhere, bouncing off of the walls, with you getting pulled into the competition every now and then. Even though you knew you'd lost over and over again, you happily joined in anyway, seeing how excited your brother was - plus, it was always a bonus to hear Jungkook's loudly obnoxious, nerdy laugh.

"I WIN!"

"Hey, hey, hey. I let you win because it's your birthday." Jungkook said, making Kai laugh as he crashed to the floor.

"Sure." Kai huffed and puffed. "Crap, I'm tired. What time is it?"

"Almost midnight. We should start heading out, bubba." You patted Kai's chest gently.

"What? No, it's late. Why don't you two just stay here?" You suddenly remembered you've had Kai's shit in your trunk since you dropped him off at Yeonjun's this morning. You didn't have any change of clothes, but that could easily be fixed with Jungkook's closet.

"Only if the queen wants, she's driving."

"It's late, baby." Jungkook says to you softly. "No way I'm letting you two head out there."

"Okay." You give him a small smile before handing your keys. "Can you do me a favor?" He chuckles.

"What is it?"

"Kai's duffle bag is in my trunk." He nods and takes your keys.

"I got it. Kai, you can take the guest room or my office room." Jungkook says with his 3-bedroom apartment having ass. "I have my computer in my office room though, and a pull out bed. I don't know how comfy you'll be."

"It's cool, I'll just take your guest room. I always bring my laptop and switch whenever I sleep at my sister's." Kai says getting up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jungkook says, toothlessly smiling at the both of you, completely endeared at how alike you two were - even down to the fact that you both said thank you for every little thing. If this was a result of Kai being close to you and having you as pretty much his mother figure, then Jungkook wouldn't know what to do with his feelings. He felt butterflies every time he thought about how cute and sweet you were, and he was always excited to be around you.

Jungkook does a quick jog to your car, grabbing Kai's Nike duffle from your trunk before jogging back to the elevator and back to his apartment. He walks in to see Kai helping you clean up the remaining dishes in the sink, tidying the rest of the things in his kitchen.

"Thank you." Jungkook says himself, a little unfamiliar with saying such a thing to be completely honest.

"You're welcome." You say softly, wiping your hands on his hand towel. "Off to bed, or are you gonna go online with your friends?"

"I'll see what they're up to, but I'm pretty beat. Today was fun." Kai smiles at the both of you. "I really appreciate it." You ruffle his hair a bit before gently pushing him towards his bedroom for the night.

"Bathroom's right over there, help yourself to anything you need."

"Don't stay up too late."

"Only if you aren't too loud." You gasp while Jungkook laughs out loud.

"Kai!"

"Hey, I'm just being honest. Please remember that I'm right in this room."

"Oh my god, go to bed." You shove him inside the room and shut his door. "Don't even say a word." You look at Jungkook shyly as you hurriedly brush past him to get into his room - even though Jungkook is literally right behind you with those long ass legs of his, making every stride so much easier for him to catch up to you.

"What's your outfit of choice tonight, pretty lady?" He shuts his door behind him as you start to make your way into his closet.

"Hm, I'll just wear this plain black--" You unfold it. "Balenciaga? Okay, I definitely can't just wear this to sleep."

"Why not?"

"Because this is like, name brand and everything."

"So?" He shrugs. "Just wear it, babygirl. It's not gonna make much of a difference, you're wearing it either way." You do a slight pout before you start to slip out of your clothes to get into his shirt. You make his way to his bathroom to take a little tinkle when you notice another toothbrush sitting next to his. A pink toothbrush, next to his blue one.

"Why do you have two toothbrushes?" You wash your hands as he comes in to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed.

"That's yours." Your eyes light up at his statement.

"Mine?"

"I figured since you'd be over more, it'd be easier for you." He furrows his brows lightly. "Unless.. you didn't want--" You press a kiss against his lips, his hands resting on your arms to keep you close.

"No, I did want that. Thank you."

"Of course, baby." He pecks your forehead.

"By the way, way to make me look like such a bad sister!" You say as you start getting your toothbrush ready.

"Why? The shoes?"

"The shoes, the Loco Moco, the games, the ice cream cake." You laughed. "I literally got him a video game and some money."

"I mean, he is turning 18. I wanted to help make it as memorable as possible."

"I appreciate you a lot. Really."

"I appreciate you too." Your eyes widen as you brush your teeth.

"Waaaaow, say thaht wun mohr tiyme." You say, pulling a Jungkook while brushing your teeth.

"Eye apprushiate yoh toh." You giggle. The both of you finish getting ready for bed before slipping into his warm sheets. Jungkook never goes to sleep early, however, he makes sure all the lights are off and that the show he's watching isn't too loud. You have no idea what's going on in his show, but you lay on his chest to watch for a little bit until you feel yourself getting a little more sleepy. He's holding you close, his hand brushing through your hair softly, causing tingles to ripple through your body.

"Kook."

"Yes, baby?"

"You make me happy." You say sleepily as you hung him tighter. He smiles down at you, your eyes now shut close as you slowly start to drift into a deep sleep. He presses a light kiss against your head, fingers still in your hair.

"You make me happy too, sweetheart."

[mugi-chan]

Hi! I really love the way you write! Would it be possible if you did a HC of the vice dorm leader saying something that really upset their s/o making the s/o walk out mid conversation silently. Then over the next few days they just ignored the vice dorm leaders. Ex: S/O: *talking to person a* VDL: *walking up to them* Person a: *starts talking to VDL* S/O: *looking at person a* who are you talking to? There’s no one there.

ლ  Content: Vice Dorm Head: Who are you talking to? 

ლ  Warnings: None!

ლ Comments: You like the way I write… Thank you so much you don’t know how much that means to me!  ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ) Oh poor baby boys doesn’t know what's going on(っ- ‸ – ς)

Trey was stressed and didn’t want to deal with you right now 

He would never snap at you but as you were pushing his limits, his thread became very thin. 

All you did was ask him about something you learned in class today. 

And boom trey just snapped and started to rant about you and said something that deeply wounded you

Trey would never say something he didn’t mean, but this time he did 

He loudly stated how annoying you were and that he hated that part of you. 

Your face was stunned but quickly went to a blank face. You look around seeing some of the Heartslabyul students staring at both of you. Finally you faced Trey who was not looking at you. 

You just turned around and walked out of the room. 

“Hey (y/n)! do you want to play with us?” Ace called out waving you down. You didn’t even look in their direction and marched out of the dorm. Ace was confused, was it something he said? 

Not long after you left, they saw Trey run into the room looking around, he asked if they saw (y/n) and Ace would chime in saying how he saw you left the dorm. 

Trey would sigh into his hand already regretting what he just said to you. 

“Trey is everything okay?” Riddle was the first speak up and Trey explained everything. 

He thought it would be good for you to have space. 

The next day he would try to talk to you but you didn’t even glanced at him 

He thought “okay maybe after school” 

When school ended he found you talking to Deuce and Ace. He thought this would be a great opportunity to talk to you. 

He approached you three Deuce and Ace immediately noticed him and said hello 

He tried to engage in the conversation, but what shocked Deuce, Ace, and Trey was when you turned to both Ace and Deuce with a confused face

“Deuce, Ace, who are you talking to?” You asked 

“W-what do you mean?” Deuce asked

“Who are you talking to? There’s no one there” 

If you keep this up with the silent treatment, Trey would try to do everything he can to get your attention and apologize. 

I think only you can get him to somewhat beg for your attention as he was really sorry for what he said 

I mean who could stay mad at Trey forever? He’s to sweat to be mad at forever 

Savanaclaw isn’t a nice and easy dorm like Heartslabyul and Scarabia, so being an S/O of a member in this dorm isn’t easy 

Ruggie will always tease you for not being so strong 

As he is normally really scared of women especially those coming from the afterglow savana he would never push the teasing. 

But being in a boy’s school he didn’t know when to stop 

So when you just got up and walked out of the room confused him 

Of course he thought of using “Laugh with me” to stop you 

But yeah know, he knew if he did that to a women in afterglow savana he would ripped to shreds so he just let you go off

He’ll let you have some time, as he is busy with Leona 

But he will definitely notice if you are ignoring him 

He would try to talk to you but you would just walk past him and now this would annoy him a bit 

Alas he is use to this because that’s how some of the women act in the afterglow 

He sees you talking to Jack, Jack noticed the very bad aura coming off Ruggie 

He would talk to Ruggie seeing what makes him angry 

Jack quickly noticed as Ruggie was staring at you annoyed and you didn’t even glance at him 

Jack was trying to calm him down the best he can but alas it just got worse when you piped up 

“Jack, who are you talking to your pretty much talking to air right now” You cracked a concerned smile. 

Jack and Ruggie were shocked, before anyone could pipe up Epel came over asking for your help. 

Well two can play it that game

remembering your schedule Ruggie knows when to be in the areas he knows your going to be in

Just see if you even notice him

Ruggie would probably give out the most heartfelt apology

As Ruggie is drinking that respecting woman juice, he knows how to apologize to women

Jade knows all your secrets, you two trust each other to keep each other secrets 

He knows how you don’t like feel defenseless, sometimes he may poke at this but never to much where he may hurt your feelings 

Sadly he doesn’t know what the limit was

He poked a little too hard and you just walked out of the mostro lounge. 

Jade found this interesting, is this some sort of thing land dwellers do? 

He would seeing nothing wrong and would come up to you try to talk to you

He at first didn’t notice that you were ignoring him as he normally would first try to talk to you in the library and normally you are focused on your reading.

He found you talking to Kalim who was babbling about something he learned from Jamil. 

Jade approached both of you and Kalim instantly noticed and started to chat up Jade. 

Jade was looking at you and Kalim, he noticed that you were giving Kalim a weird face. 

“(y/n) are you okay?” Jade asked, no answer, you were still looking at Kalim who noticed that you haven’t even looked at Jade. 

“Kalim, are you okay?” 

“Huh? (y/n) what do you mean?” 

“Are you okay, you are talking to no one right now” 

Kalim would freak out and try to show that Jade is right there 

You would keep looking him with concern

“Do you want me to get Jamil your acting weird” 

Jade just sad goodbye and left both of you behind, a smile crept on his face

Fine if (y/n) wants to play this game, he’ll play it as well 

He will ignore you just as well as you do 

It will go on for weeks until Kalim would ask what happened 

Jade would calmly explain everything and Jamil chimed in on how stupid Jade is for saying that 

This would make Jade think and realize maybe he was in the wrong 

He’ll apologize if you don’t crack first

Jamil was a little more moody than he normally was 

I think it was because Kalim almost got himself hurt and he has to take care of Kalim

You wanted to try and help Jamil out 

But Jamil who’s patience was already really low didn’t really acknowledge you at all 

Even before he realized it was you, he snapped saying something how you were just as useless as Kalim 

You knew he was stressed but it still hurt

you just held back your tears and just quietly walked out of the room

Jamil didn’t even look up until he you almost left the room 

Regret hit him like wave 

He tried to catch up to you but knew if he was in that situation you might want room 

A few days have passed and you didn’t even acknowledge his existence 

He would try to grab your wrist and talk to you trying to apologize 

But you just looked around 

“Hey Azul do you see something that’s grabbing me? I can’t seem to see what’s grabbing my wrist” 

Not even looking in his eye

*sigh* he can’t deal with this right now Kalim is by himself and he might end up getting a contract with octa trio 

Weeks would pass without talking it would kill both of you 

You two would make up by accident as you two couldn’t take it

Jamil grabbed you by the wrist and drag you to somewhere privee

Where you HAVE to acknowledge his existence 

He would apologize deeply to you about what he had said

He may or may not have made your favorite food as a sorry present 

All and all this boy will regret what he said as the one person who loved him for who he was, was hurt because of him.

Rook admires you and Vil a lot, and he loves both of you 

He didn’t know you hated to being compared to Vil 

Even in little ways you didn’t like it. 

He mentioned how much Vil did something that you did as well 

You felt hurt, you got up and just left. Leaving no answer to why 

Rook was confused he didn’t know why 

He doesn’t think he said anything wrong, or did he?

Next day he would come up to you and compliment how beautiful you are, but you just walked past him 

Well that hurt him as well, he would continually trying to talk to you complimenting your complication 

He noticed how you weren’t even glancing at him so he decided to give you room. 

Watching you from afar to make sure your okay he noticed you and Epel talking 

Thinking this might be a perfect idea to get you to somewhat talk to him through Epel 

He walked up to both of you and started to chat up Epel

Every once in a while he will glance at you seeing you where watching him but no you were staring at epel with a concerned face

“Epel, who are you talking to?’ 

“Huh, I’m talking to Rook-senpai” 

“I don’t know who you're talking about, there’s no one there at all” That might just make Epel think he’s going crazy. 

But Rook that would hurt him, he would be hurt alot 

Unlike other Vice Dorm heads he would crack first 

He would be so dramatic and throw himself onto you begging for your forgiveness for what he have said 

But if you are still hurt by the words he would understand and wait for you to come back into his loving arms

He will watch you over like a stalker to make sure you are safe and okay

Sometimes Sebek cannot keep his voice down 

Lilia was having tea with Silver and Sebek 

He was actually waiting for you to come and enjoy some tea 

Sebek made a off hand comment about you and Lilia agreed with it 

Silver asked if he really meant it, eyeing you who just walked in hearing what Sebek and lilia has said

Lilia jokingly said yes not knowing you were there

You just turned on your heels and left

This worried Silver for his father and silver would immediately tell Lilia what just happened. 

Lila realize what he saying was true and quickly teleported to where you already walking down the drawbridge 

He would try to explain to you but you walked right past him 

Lilia would try to go after you but Sebek was yelling out for Lilia as they couldn’t find Malleus-sama again 

*sigh* he has to deal with this later as much as he hates it 

He would try to talk to you beginning of school and you would just give him the gold shoulder 

How interesting does children of men normally do this? 

He’ll keep bothering you trying to get your attention 

Floating in front of you seeing if you would even lift your head to meet his eyes,nope not even a hello 

You were talking to  Sebek who saw Lilia and asked a question about the dorm 

“Sebek are you okay, did you hit your head?” 

“what , what do you mean?”

“You’re literally talking to air right now, unless you see something that I can’t” 

Sebek would be frantic thinking that Lilia might have an invisible spell casted but Lilia wasn’t 

He sadly said his goodbyes and disappeared

Poor Sebek he has no idea what's going on as he’s to focused on Malleus

Lilia would apologize to you with a heartfelt apology, romantic from his time, cheesy for your time 

He would also cook you some soup 

But you may want to avoid that 

Would you like to order something? Look at our Tea shop rules first!

[mudhornchronicles]

maroon | din djarin

gif posted by sledposting 

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: all the fluff, soft!din but then i said sike... angst, mentions of death and violence, also mentions of... sexual encounters?

a/n: lowkey wanna make into a series, but idk if someone has done this. if so, i do apologize. 

masterlist

“You best learn how to weave, girl. A husband wouldn’t be caught dead wearing tattered clothing, let alone a Mandalorian riduur.”

“You must wear much more layered clothing. A Mandalorian riduur wants a respectable woman at his side.”

“Learn these recipes and maybe you’ll find yourself a Mandalorian riduur.”

You’ve grown tired of hearing this every day, but you sit back and simply nod. Mandalore may have not been your birth planet, but they took care of you after your father and brother both fell valiantly in battle. You were on your own after that. Your mother was not a Mandalorian, she was originally from Naboo. When your father was called back to Mandalore to assist in the ceremonial trials, your mother decided it was time she left. She said she was promised a tranquil life with the clan of four on Naboo, but the creed had to be followed. You have not heard from her since you were 7 years old.

Now as you’ve come to an age of maturity, you were being trained to… be a wife? 

You sat back and obeyed the elders wishes, but you knew that their rants were not true - not in the slightest. Your father never depended on your mother to do anything for him. Because of that, he taught you how to defend yourself and be independent. Although your father was devoted to The Way, he did not want you to swear the creed. Not because you were incapable, but because he did not want you to go through life with the restrictions that the creed entails. Even if you wanted to rebel against your loving father’s wishes, you were not able to be properly trained nor swear the creed at such a late age. So, you were content with being a member of the Mandalorian culture as a civilian.

You sat at a table that the elders reserved for the women who taught young ladies how to sew, heal, cook, and take care of the warriors in training. Whether it was a torn cape or a sparring injury, you were there to help. You always believed you didn’t need to be there as you already knew how to do it all, but the view made up for it. The table was set up on the outer boundaries of the sand pit they called a sparring arena. You got to see young Mandalorians train their bodies and minds by lessons taught by the elders. As many Mandalorians came and went, your eyes were always set on a specific foundling you met many years ago. You sympathized with that warrior when you first noticed his colored armor. You had a crafted bracelet in a similar color – a deep red, a maroon to be precise.

All Mandalorian armor was painted, but each general color had deeper meaning. For example, blue represented the reliability of the warrior, green represented duty, black represented justice, and grey or silver represented mourning.

Red represented the honoring of a parent or leader.

You watched as the two warriors, one in green armor and yours in the maroon, sparred while the other Mandalorians watched and rallied around their fighting brothers. After 10 minutes, the maroon pinned the green down and was declared the winner. The elders at your table clapped and you can’t help but smile and cheer along.

As the noise settles down, you ask to be excused from the table and wait for their approval. Once the oldest member examines your finished shawl, she excuses you for the day. You clean up your yarn and needles, place them and your newly knitted shawl in your basket, and thank them for the day’s lesson. You turn and notice the maroon armored figure standing with his brothers as a new pair of Mandalorians prepare for their turn at combat.

You walk over and stand next to him, basket in your left hand and proceed to place your right hand on his pauldron. He looks over at you and tilts his helmet as he acknowledges you. You mouth a simple hi and a small wave, not wanting to distract him from the scene in front of him.

“Hello, cyar’ika.”

You smile as he turns and holds your right hand in his left. “How was today’s lesson?”

You shrug, rolling your eyes and letting out a small laugh. “Oh you know, learning what I already know. The usual.”

He chuckles at your visible annoyance at the uniformed program you’re practically forced to attend. “Are you finished or are the elders letting you breathe?”

You just can’t help but always smile at every word that comes out of his mouth. “I’m very much finished for the day. Are you?”

“Yes, Paz and I were just asked to demonstrate a sparring technique. Would you like to go for a walk?”

You nod excitedly. He gives your hand a light squeeze and asks you to stay where you are. You watch him as he strides over to one of the elders watching over the training session to what you assume is asking for permission to leave. The elder simply nods and goes back to observing the trainees.

Your Mandalorian leads you to an escarpment not far from the main town – not far by speeder bike that is. You both called it our place. As far as you both knew, no one had known about the place. The ground is scattered with sand and cracks, but the pair are protected from unwanted visitors by an oddly bent acacia tree and nothing beats the view. The capital can be seen far out in the distance, seeming small and faded. You looked down from the cliff to the ground below. You took notice that the ground had small traces of grass while the trees began to dry and then to your luck, you spotted a strill dragging the corpse of a fanned rawl back to its pack. 

You step back from the edge and walk back to the tree. Your beloved unclips his cape and places it on the ground for you both to sit on – despite your countless protest about getting it dirty and tears. He proceeds to take a seat in the middle of his cape and places his hands on your waist. You take the hint and take a seat on his lap. He wraps his arms around your body and lay on him and he leans back on the thick trunk of the tree.

You quietly stay like this for what feels like hours, just holding onto each other. You two rarely get alone time anymore as his training has begun to be much more advanced. More advanced means longer training hours and longer training hours mean less time with you. Mandalore has nineteen hour days and the elders now have him train for six which means you barely get to talk to him and he barely gets to breathe. 

You change positions to lay on the ground with your head on his thighs. He starts to play with your hair, but suddenly lets the strand of hair go. He leans over to grab your hand. He begins to play with your fingers and places his palm straight onto yours just to feel how different his hands are from your own. He did always say he loved your hands – soft and caring.

He loves holding your hand. He loves caressing it. He loves playing with them. He loves how they look when in his.

When you’re in the safety of your home, he blindfolds you and  loves it when you play with his hair.

When you make love, he loves when you run your hands down his chest and on his biceps as he thrusts up into you. He loves when you grip his arms while you’re riding him and he brings you close to euphoria or when his body is over yours and your hands press down on his back to beg for him to go deeper.

He’s gone a long time without having gentle hands touch him. You were the first person he let touch his bare hands since his parents died. 

His helmet tilts over to you and you look up to him. He sits and stares at you and you unsuccessfully stifle a laugh. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar’ta.” He says quietly. So quietly you feel as if it wasn’t meant for your ears.

You situate yourself onto your knees and cradle the side of his helmet in one hand and hold his own hand in the other. “I love you too, Din. More than anything in the entire galaxy.”

You’ve been in a romantic relationship with Din for five years and you’ve heard those words a total of seven times. You savor every time he speaks them as it sounds like utter bliss to you.

“Ner kar’ta, I- I’d like to gift something to you, but I must know something first.”

“You can ask me anything, cyare.”

“I know I don’t tend to express my feelings and you may be thinking this is going to be a negative talk, but I promise it’s not.”

“I know it isn’t, my love. Even if it was, you’re not going anywhere.”

He chuckles at this and he nods. You know this is serious when his visor isn’t on your face.

“Mesh’la… Do you wa- Are you sure you…” he stops and clears his throat. “Cyare, do you plan on wanting to be stay? With me? I know we never talked about this, but I just thought it was time to bring it up.”

“Are you asking me if I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life, Din?”

He nods.

“Din, love, of course I want to be with you. We’ve only touched the surface. There’s so much left to do. You still haven’t given me a piece of your armor, we haven’t done a riduurok, and we haven’t raised warriors! You aren’t getting rid of me!” you joke.

He stays silent and you begin to think you may have gone too far. He opens one of his pouches on his belt. Your mind is saying he pulled out the blindfold he always carries for you to kiss you, but your heart wishes it’s something else.

Your heart wins.

He offers you a necklace. It consists of a maroon colored beskar ring clinging to a chain – his beskar. Before he can say anything, you jump on him and wrap your arms around him. He laughs and gives you a squeeze.

“I had a speech prepared, but I’d be very happy if I didn’t have to read it,” he sarcastically says. You can’t stop the tears running down your cheeks as you shake your head while you tell him he doesn’t have to. You know what he’s going to say and you know he’s going to stutter and shake. You know how much he loves you. You don’t need to hear him say it as his actions spoke volumes.

“I knew you didn’t lose your buckle to Paz! You rather lose me than your armor!”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’d rather lose my sponsorship then you.”

You playfully shove him. “Di’kut.” You grab your drink from your basket and take a swig from the cold liquid.

“Cyar’ika, w- would you like to marry me? Right now?”

You almost choke. You look at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Is it too soon?”

You shake you head. “No, no it’s been five years. The elders probably think we’re crazy.” You both share a laugh. “But, if you’re ready Din, then yes. I’d love to marry you right now.”

He stands and helps you up. He grabs the chained ring and places it around your neck. You look down and the ring falls beautifully next to the other necklace you wear, a nexu signet - your father’s clan. You reach up and bring his head down to yours as you connect your foreheads together. As Mandalorian culture states, the warrior must begin the riduurok and every phrase must be said by each to be vowed.  

Din’s hands are shaking, you can feel them. He clears his voice, but it does little to stop it from cracking.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus d-dar’tome”

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome”

“M-Mhi me’dinui an”

“Mhi me’dinui an”

“mhi ba’juri ver-“

You feel his forehead leave yours and you open your eyes. You follow his gaze and your heart sinks. Far out in the distance you see imperial ships slowly coming through the clouds. You see bright red light coming from the capital and you begin to panic. You know he has to go fight. As much as you don’t want him to, there’s no debate. 

You both run to collect everything. He stops to look at you.

“Ni ceta, ner kar’ta. I promise that I-“ you stop him and bring his forehead down again.

“It is your duty to Mandalore, Din. I know you’ll protect us and you’ll come back to me. Promise me you’ll fight with everything in you. I can’t lose you too.”

“I promise.”

With that you pack the speeder and ride back into town, although as the war begins, you wished you had just taken Din away and ran.

Blaster shot after blaster shot. Dead body after another. The cries of children and the screaming of mothers trying to find their babies.

You hear a Mandalorian usher women and children into life-ships, each with two Mandalorians escorts. You get rushed closer and closer to one when you catch Din in the corner of your eye.

You run to him as you hear your name being called out by the other women. Din sees you and tackles you down. He pins you against a wall yelling at you to get into a ship and go. You put your hands on each side of his helmet. Both of you are crying wishing this was only a nightmare. 

“Din, please promise me you’ll find me. Promise me you’ll make it out of here and come back to me. I can’t live without you. Please promise me.”

His visor is trained on you as you hold onto each other tighter than ever. “I promise I’ll find you and when I do, we’ll properly marry and I’ll take you far away from here so we can start our own clan. Ner kar’ta, I promise you this with my entire being.”

A promise sealed with a keldabe kiss. He runs with you towards a ship. You both ask escorts where the ship is going. No one knows. You try running out of the ship, but Din only pushes you back in. You hear him tell you how much he loves you before he jumps off the ship right when the ramp starts to move. You sob as the ramp closes until the view of your maroon-clad love is completely gone.

Little did you know that the war zone you had just witnessed was the fall of Mandalore and the last time you’d see the love of your life for many years to come.

update (1.1.21): Part two to Maroon has been posted - Saguine

 mando’a translations:

riduur = spouse, husband, wife, partner

cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum = I love you

ner kar’ta = my heart

mesh’la = beautiful

riduurok = love bond, specifically between spouses - marriage agreement

cyare = beloved

di’kut = idiot

Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde. = We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors.

ni ceta = i’m sorry 

[yourfangirlfriend]

It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter Six

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Five and a Half

A/N: idk if this is good but I’ve been putting off writing it and perfect is the enemy of done so here you go, I had fun

It’s not not serious.

At least, this seems to be the mutual conclusion you have both silently reached after that weirdly intimate night you never talked about, either.

And yes, you’re aware of how childish that is.

For two people voluntarily living in one of the more dangerous cities on the continent, it turns out you’re both pretty cowardly. But why put yourselves through the agony of all that when you could both instead play a game of emotional chicken to test where the boundaries are?

You go first the morning the two of you wake up in your bed. You both woke up in a tangle of limbs and slid out of bed after the second snooze alarm went off. He had just pulled on his jeans when he reached for the shirt you had folded the night before.

“Wait,” you said. You walked to the closet and pulled a crisp black shirt off its hanger, continuing to brush your teeth and you walked up and deposited it in his hand. “I washed this after you let me wear it home.”

That night we made pasta and I spilled sauce on my shirt and you took it off and fucked me in your kitchen until the chicken burnt-

He looks up at you, his eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head before pulling it over his shoulders. “Thank you.”

You give him a look before dipping into the bathroom to spit.

After a quick cup of coffee, you’re both striding towards your door when you stop short. He turns and looks at you, waiting for you to take another step and flick the deadbolt. Instead, you ask

“Are you going to be okay? Today, I mean. With...”

His face falls a little, like he was expecting to get out of this without you mentioning it. It makes your heart hurt.

“I’m fine,” he says, curtly. He drops his head to look at his shoes. You swallow.

“So...drinks tonight? Still?” You reach out and bop his hand with yours.

“Not if you don’t open the door.”

You roll your eyes, walking forward and flicking the bolt. You pull the door open and he catches it, holding it back for you as you take the first step out.

“...yeah. I’ll be back around 6,” he says as you finish locking the door. You drop the keys in your purse, straightening up as the two of you walk towards and out the doors.

“Bar or your place?”

“Mine.”

“You sure? It’s my turn to buy,” you say.

“No, it’s not,” he says as he opens the passenger door for you, gesturing that you climb in. You do and watch as he walks around the front to his side. “Besides, mines quieter.”

You nod, staring forward as he starts the car and pulls into the street. Like every morning, his hand falls to your knee and you feel content with his answer.

You can’t help yourself, though, when he pulls up in front of the school and parks, waiting for you to climb out. Usually, it’s a pretty quick, platonic affair- a quick “thanks, Javi” before you open the door and swing your legs out. This morning, though,

“You know,” he says when you reach for the handle. “You...you don’t have to take care of me.”

You drop your hand before turning back to face him. And maybe it’s the coffee you drank took quickly, or maybe it’s the way last night is still lingering in your head, but

“I like taking care of you.”

You reach out and pull his face to yours, letting the kiss linger before pulling away.

“See you tonight,” you said, flashing him a quick smile. If you’re not mistaken, you see the corner of his mouth twitch up before he remembers himself, and gives you a cool masculine nod. You climb out and watch as he drives away before you hear behind you:

“¿Es tu novio?”

You turn around and see three little girls from your class huddled together and giggling that they just caught the teacher doing something naughty. Despite yourself, you smile through your teacher's voice.

“Entrad, niñas. La clase está a punto de empezar.”

He makes the next move when he shows up outside the school, waiting against his car when you walk out that afternoon and he flags you down.

“Hey,” he says when you approach his car.

“Hey,” you say. “What’s up?”

“Was told to go home early,” he says. “Figured...” he waves his hand up, gesturing to you. “You got plans?”

“Was just going to swing by the liquor store. For tonight.”

“It’s not your turn to buy,” he says, moving out of the way so you can open the door. You send him a look.

“It’s the 90s. Let a girl buy you a drink, Javi.”

He smiles, and over his shoulder, you see one of the girls from this morning- Cara - sending you a shit-eating grin.

Despite yourself, you give her a little wave as Javi drives the two of you out of the parking lot.

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

It becomes a game after that. He picks you up from school. You ask him to stay the night again, and he does. The next morning, he kisses you goodbye in front of Steve, whose eyebrows you see pop up from the corner of your eye. That night, you stay over at his and leave the spare toothbrush you brought next to his in the bathroom. The next day, he comes to your house with take-out and a tape and the two of you fall asleep on the couch, drunk and full. Soon, you don’t remember a night where you aren’t sleeping in the same bed or whose turn it is to initiate a sleepover. You just meet at your smoking spot and then, inevitably, one of you will lead the other to their door for the night, and inevitably, the other one will stay.

The small reminders of each other begin to pile up in your respective apartments. A mystery toothbrush appears in your bathroom. Then there’s a jacket and two of his shirts hanging in your closet. A drawer in his bathroom slowly begins to fill with evidence of your presence- hair ties, bobby pins, the odd bit of makeup. During one of your drunk nights, when you are once again lamenting the lack of decoration, you draw a stick-figure portrait of the apartment - you, Javi, Steve, and the creepy silent man who you only ever see leave his place to buy fish - and tape it to his fridge. He tells you you hang around kids too much, but every time you come back, it’s still up.

Then the bigger things happen. You go to dinner with him and Steve. You bring him on a double date with Alessa and Frankie. He kisses you goodbye in front of the school every morning, and you reach out and hold his hand whenever the two of you walk outside- which you do now, by the way. You walk to the grocery store, you walk to the liquor store, you walk to the corner store to buy pre and post-coital smokes, and every time his hand finds yours. You’re still having sex, you still fuck, but now, sometimes, to what would once be your disgust, it’s slower. Softer. There’s eye contact and prolonged kisses and caressing and very little hair pulling.

And god. Now there’s cuddling.

You no longer sit across the sofa to hanger a drink. No, now your legs are in his lap or his arm is around your shoulder or some other horribly intimate design the two of you just naturally find yourself falling into whenever you’re in proximity. Now, after sex, he’s pulling you to him or you’re pulling him to you or you just both mutually descend towards each other. And when you’re all wrapped around each other, the worst thing of all happens. He talks.

It’s not like you hadn’t talked before. You were friends, after all. He already knew about your kids you taught, your parents, and some random, funny stories about your life. In turn, he had told you some stories about his mom, about the ranch, and about the people in his life. But now it’s different. Now, whenever you two are alone in the dark, bodies pressed against each other under the sheet with such softness it’s grotesque, the walls come down. He tells you about his mom's death, and how he didn’t cry for months. He tells you how afraid he is of himself, and how he worries she would hate the person he is. He tells you he doesn’t think he’s a good person, because of the women he’s hurt ( -“The DAY of?” “I’m not proud of it”-) and the people he failed (“-supposed to get her out, keep her safe, and I couldn’t-“) and how, though he won’t go into detail about it, he’s worried how numb he’s become to things, and that he’s only going to get number (“-you see so many people die, there’s got to be a point you just stop feeling that, like self-preservation, and that’s fucking scary-“). You listen. You think you may be the first person who has listened in a while. When he tries to apologize, that he shouldn’t have said that or that he’s a mopey sad sack or you don’t want to hear this, you kiss his hands.

“Javi,” you tell him. “I like listening to you. Anything you have to say.”

Looking back, you think the look he gives you the first time you said that was when you really knew. But now, you’re still playing dumb. You both are.

What’d he call it? Self-preservation?

To pay him back, you tell him about you. You try to match his scars, telling him about growing up in a loud, weird house you’d only learn at the age of fifteen was a commune. You tell him about all the times you caught your parents tripping out naked on drugs and having to drag them to bed, or how you had to watch your sister for days on end as a kid whenever they decided to go out on ‘spirit walks’, and how you eventually enrolled yourself in school after your mothers homeschooling attempts fell to the wayside. That one time when you were six and accidentally took a tab of acid your mother and father’s sometime lover, Sunshine, left on top of your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  You try and tell him the good things, too- how you speak five languages (“what?” “English, Spanish, German, Russian, and some Chinese.” “...what?” “My parents were communists!”), how you used to be really good at gymnastics (“is that why you can’t do a handstand?” “I can do a handstand-“ ), and the things in yourself that you’re afraid of- your denial, your anxiety, your bad habit of never calling your sister back and how that actually reveals you’re a sociopath. And in turn, he listens. He squeezes your hand. He asks you questions when you know he wants to and lets it be silent when you can’t bring yourself to answer.

About three months into this, you find yourself lying on your side one night, staring at his beautiful, stupid, snoring face as he drools against your pillow, and for the first time, you finally, finally, finally let yourself admit it.

It is serious.

---

“Well no shit.”

You scowl at Lisa over your glass.

“What? Like we all didn’t already know? For months?”

“Leave her alone,” Alessa elbows her. “I think it’s sweet.”

“You think everything’s sweet.” Lisa rolls her eyes. “You tell him yet?”

You bite the inside of your lip and look down at your drink. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Timing?”

“You spend all your time together.”

You shake your head, taking a swig.

“Coward.”

“What!”

“I said you’re a coward,” Lisa says as Maritza deposits the tray of shots between the two of you.

“Who’s a coward?” she asks sweetly.

“Eloise.”

“Yeah, I am,” you reach forward and take two of the shot glasses, snatching the one in front of Lisa before downing it.

“Hey!” She yelps.

You flip her off and down the second.

She huffs. “Bitch.”

You shake your head and march towards the bar to order another tray.

----------

To be fair, he knew it would be like this.

He had to. It’s you. It’s both of you. Two weirdly cagey people who don’t like having their guard down and never, ever want to be the one person who sticks themselves out for ridicule. The little dares over the past few months have been one thing, like you’re placing pebbles on a scale, seeing how long it takes until it collapses under the weight. Nightly sleepovers? Pebble. Toothbrushes? Pebbles. Sharing childhood trauma after a round of particularly kinky sex where you had your hands tied to the headboard and it inadvertently reminded you of the time you got your hands stuck in some old handcuffs your sister and you had found and you had to spend three hours with your hands looped around a bed frame because Tanya was seven and when she found your mom they were high on peyote and it turns out it takes five drugged-out hippies to find a tiny pair of keys to free a small girl in the woods after it’s already gotten dark and then he told you about the time his uncle had drunk too much shiner and tried to shoot an apple off his cousins head with a BB gun but missed and now the cousin has one eye kind of like Lorenzo and then you both chain-smoked cigarettes and wondered what a glass eye feels like - alright. Maybe five pebbles.

But...actually saying it?

Stones. Big, ugly stones. The kind that fall on cars.

No wonder you got shit-faced.

“Javvvvvvvi,” you sang through his door. You pounded out the melody that only made sense in your head. “Heyyyyy,”

You hear footsteps approaching from the other side and you stand up straight, ready to drunkenly seduce him with your pose when the door swings open and-

“Can I help you?” She asks, annoyed.

You take the woman in front of you in. She’s tall, with long honey blonde hair that falls across her shoulders. Her waist is bared under the halter top she wears, and you’re only a little jealous of the toned plane of her stomach and the long legs that stretch out from her short shorts.

“I...” you start.

“What are you doing? Get away from the door!” Javi appears from behind her, reaching out to take her arm and pull her back. His eyes fall on you, though, and he drops his hand.

“El- hey- I thought you were-?”

“I was...what uh,” you raise your hand to the woman. “What the fuck?”

“Who the fuck are you?” The woman hisses back. Javi reaches up and takes her arm, pulling her back gently.

“I told you not to answer the door-“

“No, I think I’ll leave-“ you toss your hands up. “Enjoy your night.”

“She’s not- it’s not like that-”

“OH PLEASE, I wasn’t born yester-“

The door behind you opens, and the two or you swivel you hear to see Steve enter holding two bags of food. He looks between you and Javier, then to the door.

“Hey,” he says finally.

You give him a pathetic wave. He waves back before turning to Javi.

“Is she-“

“Yeah,” Javier says. He points to his apartment “Could you actually-?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods a bit too quickly, moving behind him and disappearing into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Javier turns back to you.

“She needs a place to stay before we move her. I was going to tell you when you got back.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” you draw out. You grimace, before looking back to him. “...Sorry.”

“You really think I’d do that?”

You open your mouth to answer before he cuts in again.

“Are you drunk?”

“I-“ you start before huffing. Fucking cop. “Yes! Of course I’m drunk! It’s tequila night! I even, kindly, I might add,” you reach in your bag and pull out the bottle you picked up on the way home. “Got some for you, too!”

“Who did you think she was?”

“Javi-“ you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. This wasn’t supposed to be your night. Tonight was supposed to be about getting drunk with your friends, then getting drunk with Javi, then having drunk sex on your couch loud enough the upstairs fish guy would have to bury his head in what you only assumed was a pile of rotting fish carcasses in his trash to drown out your moans.

Now it’s this.

You shake your head and nod to your door, beckoning him to follow. It’s tense, and he watches over your shoulder as your hands shake trying to pull the right key. Once you manage to unlock the door, you hurry inside and deposit your things on the table, before turning back and facing him.

You open your mouth to say something-

-and then shut it again. You sigh.

“You thought I was sleeping with her.”

You snap your head back up to see him, cross-armed in front of you. You shake your head.

“This isn’t fair, I’m drunk. You’re not.”

He walks over to the bag you threw on the couch and unscrews the bottle you brought home. He takes a swig, holding eye contact as he gulps a third of the small bottle down, all while you watch flabbergasted.

“Say it,” he says, screwing the cap back on.

“You’re going to be sick-“

“Eloise.”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve talked about it!” You snap. “We never- said! What we’re doing!” You drop your hands to your side and turn, walking to the kitchen and leaning forward onto the counter. Javi follows you up, eying you.

“You thought I was, though?”

“Yes! No? I don’t know!” You bring a hand to your face. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just got scared. I guess...I’ve been scared? Lisa thinks so, the bitch-“

“Scared of what? Me sleeping with someone else?”

“No! Not- necessarily-“

“You really think- Jesus, it’s like we never-“

“Hey, don’t!” You spin to face him. “Don’t turn this around on me. You never brought this up. We haven’t talked about this. We talked about everything else and are doing everything else like dinner dates and sweet sex and fucking movie nights but we haven’t...said anything! Saying things matters!”

He stares at you.

“I didn’t think it did! I thought I was fine with just...letting...ugh!” You bring the heels of your palms to your eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that last shot.”

“Eloise, what are you-“

“I’m not a coward!” You point at him. “I’m not! I’m just- it’s just-“

“No one said you were!”

“Lisa did!”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t...Ugh! They really make strong drinks at that bar! Because I haven’t said-“

“Jesus Christ, WHAT.”

Ooh, you wish you could just fall apart and have him see what’s running through your mind right now. You feel the anger in your stomach bubble. He’s really annoyed with you for thinking the worst of him, and maybe he has a right, but you two haven’t talked about it. You had just assumed- assumed he felt the same way, assumed the little intimacies have built up in such a way that you had something real and concrete, and especially that you both weren’t fucking other people. But the second she opened the door it felt like your worst fear had come true: you were the idiot who had let their guard down first and got hurt, because they were too stupid to realize what this was, and you couldn’t even be mad. Because you hadn’t talked about it. Because he never technically said he was with you.

But now he’s looking like he’s feeling the exact same way, only he’s the idiot. He’s the idiot for confiding in you and crying on your tits and telling you all those fears and worries and believing you when you kissed his hands and told him you thought he was a good man. He’s worried that you’ve always seen him this way- as the guy who would cut and run and betray you, and maybe if you think that, then it’s true. Maybe he was kidding himself into thinking someone like you could believe in his goodness, after all he’s done.

Fuck, you may be drunk but it does make you insightful.

It may be too late though. Because he’s dropped his hands from his hips, tired of waiting for an explanation. He’s making towards the door, murmuring something about having to work and it all just seems like it’s slipping out of your fingers like you can see he’s building up the wall again and this time you’re not going to be able to tear it down-

“Javi,” you say, your voice strained. He stops and turns to you, and you know you only have a few seconds to do it. You try and form the words, but your tongue isn’t working and maybe Lisa was right, maybe you are a coward, but you have to try.

“I like taking care of you.” You say, pathetically, dropping your hands to your sides.

A beat passes. He brings his hands to his hips, waiting for a further explanation. You sigh and walk down to stand in front of him. “I like having you take care of me...and...I haven’t wanted to tell you, because I don’t want to scare you but maybe that’s just me ‘projecting’ or whatever Alessa said. She’s really annoying now that she’s doing that psychology class-“

“El.” He says, not without softness. You feel his fingers come under your chin, gesturing for you to look up at him.

This wasn’t the plan. This was supposed to be a hookup. Then a friendship. You don’t want to lose that.

But now he’s staring down at you like that, and your drunk brain is turning over itself as you think maybe that train has already left. Maybe it left a long fucking time ago, and the two of you have just been hanging onto the back, waiting for the other person to let go first.

But you don’t want to let go. You never really did. You were just waiting for him to give you a sign so you could make it look like you were jumping off together instead of you pathetically holding on as he disappears behind you.

But from the way his thumb traces your jaw and his other hand reaches forward to take your hand in his, you think maybe he’s been utilizing the same strategy, and he’s been just as scared as you.

Well, now you can either let go or try to pull yourself up.

So.

Are you a coward or not?

He wets his lips before his eyes drop. He looks defeated. And at that moment you decide – fuck it.

Between the gymnastics and dragging your high parents to bed and all this fucking holding you’ve been doing inside of you, you’ve got strong enough arms.

So.

Fuck it.

“El, I don’t-“

“I love you,” you say without thinking. “And yes I’m tequila drunk, but I don’t think that takes away from-“

You’re stopped as he leans forward and presses his lips to yours, cutting you off. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss. You feel him pulling at your top and you shimmy it off and over your head, tossing it to the side before dipping your hands down and unbuckling his belt as he unbuttons his shirt before you. You drop your hand down the front of his pants, jerking him softly as he moans into your mouth. You feel him guiding you to the couch, and when the back of your knees hit the arm you drop down and begin to pull his pants down for him as he rids himself of his shirt. You’re about to take him in your mouth when he pushes you down, your back hitting the cheap leather as he crawls over you, pulling your skirt up to your hips. He pauses.

“You always skip the underwear in girls' night?”

“Only when I’m coming back to you.”

That gets him, because a second later he’s between your legs, thrusting inside of you. You let out a cry and drop your head back, exposing your neck to him as he continues to pump into, his hands reaching behind and you and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“Say it again,” he says.

“I don’t wear underwear-“

“No,” he growls, dropping his hand down between your legs to play with you. You let out another little cry.

“I love you,” you say. “I-I’ve loved you for a long time- ahhh!” The next thrust hits a little too well. “Ah, fuck, Javi- right there-“

“Keep going-“

“YOU keep going- fuck, has your dick gotten bigger?”

“El-“ he lets out a moan. Taking advantage of the moment, you slip out from under him and switch positions, pressing him back onto the couch and climbing atop of him. His hands settle on your hips as you ride him, pulling sounds from him that echo around your living room. When you cum he’s not long after, and the two of you collapse onto each other, breathing heavily as you come down with his hand holding the back of your neck.

“Hey,” he says finally. You lift your head and sit up, looking down at him. His eyes are glassy, and the look on his face makes you giggle.

“Are you drunk?”

“Yes,” he says. “But a wise woman once said that doesn’t take away from what I have to say.”

“She sounds smart, you should fuck her,” you say, moving to stand. He catches your wrist, pulling you back down onto his lap with a bounce.

“Give a girl a few minutes before round two-“

He cuts you off with a kiss. It’s slow and soft and you melt into it. The way you always melt into him.

When he pulls away, you chase after his grinning lips. He brings a hand to the side of your face, tracing his fingers down the side of your cheek.

“I love you, too.” He says. “I don’t know what that’s worth…but I do.”

You lean in, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

"Baby," you say "It's worth everything."

In the morning, you’ll have to contend with the knowing look Steve gives the two of you before asking “Good night?”, a joke that earns him a look from Javi and a deep blush and muttered apology from you. You’ll have to put up with the squeals from Maritza, Lisa, and Alessa when you tell them in the staff room during lunch. You’ll even get a look from your upstairs neighbor when you pass him and his fresh fish that next afternoon.  Most of all, you’ll have to consider what the fuck this means for you and Javi and this scary, exhilarating little life you’re leading.  

But.

Right now, you’re naked and smoking a cigarette on the couch with the man you love who loves you back, and you’re both laughing, and that's more than enough.

taglist: @fuckoffbard

[bruh--wtf]

Quiet

Merlin x Reader

Main Masterlist

Merlin Masterlist

Summary: You're family was a friend of Gaius and while visiting him, you meet the young servent.

Key

Y/N: Your Name

Y/D/N: Your dad's name

You arrived in Camelot with your parents, looking for their old friend who you'd met once. And when you were just a small child. Your father was a merchant. Wealthy, however not noble. But that also meant you could afford nice clothes. It also meant you had to keep up appearances.

Walking in, you all kept your heads held high. Your parents guided you confidently to the physician's chambers.

While walking in a chamber you saw a blonde man dressed in armour. Based on his looks and rumors you'd heard, you assumed he might be the crowned prince, Arthur. But he wasn't the one that caught your attention. It was the brunette, trailing after him. Snarking the prince.

"Yes, well, that's very intelligent, isn't it?" You hear the man sass to the knight. You saw the handsome man with pale skin and dark eyes roll his eyes. Then both men noticed you and your family. The blonde stopped, looking confused. The handsome brunette's mouth fell open slightly while he looked at you, and the blonde hit his arm. The man shook out of a trance-like expression and blushed.

Although a small flush creeped up in you you kept your head high and your illusion of confidence. Though, the man's gaze did send a warm swarming feeling to your stomach.

"Excuse me, are you lost?" The blonde asks. He looks at your parents after glancing at you. "Oh, my apologies. Lovely to see you again, Y/D/N."

"And you, your highness," your father says, bowing his head. Your mother cursties and you follow. Your father gestures to your mother, then you. "My wife, Y/M/N. And my daughter, Y/N." Your mother bows her head, and you again mirror her.

Not being noble, yet being rich mean appearances are key. It means women don't speak unless spoken to. It means your replies are curt. It means keeping confidence, and doing as your told. Elegance and grace. You must keep your head high. Or you are nothing.

"Lovely to meet you both. I've heard great things. I hear you're here to visit our court physician?" Arthur says. Your father nods. "Well, I'm sure my father would love for you to join us for dinner during your visit. I'll put in a word."

Your eyes widen a fraction. You had no interest in making a fool of yourself infront of the king. The prince's gaze goes to you, and you quickly fix your expression. There was no room for weakness in a world like this. Especially for a woman.

"If that's something you'd all be interested in," Arthur adds. You saw your mother look at you slightly, and your gaze goes to the floor.

"We'd be honored, sire," your father speaks for you. You swallowed. "First we'd like to visit our friend. Arthur nods.

"Of course. I hope to see you all again during your visit." Your father nodded, and your mother put her hand back on his arm, letting him guide her. Before you could follow, Arthur addresses you directly. "Y/N," he says. Your gaze travels back to make eye contact with him.

"Yes, sire?" He shakes his head slightly, extending his hand.

"Please, it's Arthur. And this is my servant, Merlin. If you or your family needs anything while you're here, please see either of us," he says. Your small smile comes a little more easily with the name of the handsome man.

"Thank you for your kindness, si-" he gives you a sharp look and a small bashful smile/blush creeps onto your face. "Arthur." He smiles and nods. You glance at the handsome servant one more time before following your parents.

Walking into the physician's chambers, you see the old man hunched over a table. He looked up as your parents and you walked in. He stood up, smiling. You finally were allowed to relax. You could tell by the tension leaving your parent's muscles. Your mother embraced the old man, smiling.

Your parents had told you stories of when they lived closer to the palace. They always made sure you'd be comfortable when you finally came to the palace. You also knew that your parents were hoping you'd impress a knight during your time here. Maybe catch one of their eyes. That could trust you enough to marry someone worthy. They told you from a young age, your marriage your choice. They wanted you to fall in love as they did. They also wanted you to be wealthy. You were always scared they would favor the latter.

"It's wonderful to see you all again!" Gaius says, smiling. His smile sent a wave of calm through you. He seemed warm, and welcoming. But from what your parents said, being on the receiving end of this man's disapproval was physically painful. "And, Y/N." He takes a step inbetween your parents to inspect you. You smile at him.

"Pleasure to meet you," you say. He smiles slightly, thinking.

"You've grown alot since I've seen you last," he says, raising an eyebrow at your parents. You chuckled as they shrank a little. You quickly covered your mouth.

"I've heard alot of things about you," you say, trying to aid your parents. He smiles and nods curtly.

"Don't believe all that you hear," he says. You smiled a little more. A smile you would never normally give to someone besides your parents. It was to wide, to awkward for anyone else. Anything that could give other people the illusion that you were anything less than a lady was a serious no. Too large of smiles, any laughs beyond a gentle giggle, dancing for fun. None of which you did unless you were in private.

"All things are good, I assure you," you say. He nods and seems to be thinking.

"I hear you have an apprentice, Gaius," your father says. Gaius nods and sighs.

"Yes, well, he came not after your last visit. A few years ago," he says. Your father nods. "His name is Merlin. He'll be here later."

"You mean the prince's servant?" Your mother asks. Gaius nods.

"Yes, those are his rooms up there now," he says, gesturing to the room up a few stairs. Your curiosity about the servant was growing. You couldn't really explain why.

And at dinner that night, when the servant boy came into Gaius' chambers looking exhausted. You had been reading through some of Gaius' old books and papers. Your parents were chatting away with him, reminiscing. You were tucked on the stairs, reading. Honestly, you found what Gaius did fascinating.

You looked up, hearing him come into Gaius' chambers. He looked at Gaius and your parents before noticing you. Sat on the stairs which led to his room. You smiled softly at the boy. Surely being so relaxed around Gaius meant you could be around this boy as well. But, based on your parents reactions you were wrong. And here you were, hoping these chambers could be a safe place for you. A few days away from being... well? Your parents.

You let out a small breath, barely noticeable. You straighten your posture and lift your head.

"Merlin. Perfect timing," Gaius says. "I told you you'd be showing my friends to their chambers." Gaius narrowed his eyes on the boy, who nodded.

"Right. Yeah, it just slipped my mind is all. I-"

"We'll have dinner and then you can escort them," Gaius says, cutting him off. Your father shakes his head.

"I know my way, Gaius. Though, Y/N might need to be shown her chambers," he says. You looked at him, a little surprised. But he just nods at Gaius who shrugs.

"Alright. Well, lets have dinner then," he says. You smiled a little bit.

After dinner, you were walking in the corridors with Merlin. He kept glancing at you. You just kept your head up, and stayed silent.

"How do you like the castle?" He asks. You look at him, glancing around a bit.

"It's very nice." He studies you for a moment.

"You don't talk much." You couldn't help but chuckle and glance at him.

"As a lady should," you say, it surprised you how bitter you sounded as it came out. It slipped out without much thought. Your eyes widened a fraction. Merlin's eyes showed a hint of sadness.

"I assure you, I want you to talk to me," he says. You look at him. "And besides, the only Lady I know speaks whenever she wishes." He chuckles a little bit. Your eyes widened a bit more.

"The lady Morgana? Well... she's the king's ward. I'm not of such a position that demands respect. I'm afraid I must earn it," you say. He scoffs a little bit.

"How can you earn anyone's respect if you act like you're to afraid to talk to them?" He asks. You think about his words, looking at him. He comes to a stop infront of a door, clearing his throat. "This is your room, my lady." You snap your eyes back up to him.

"Y/N. I'd much prefer it if you call me Y/N," you say. He smiles slightly.

"I meant no offense before," he says. You smile softly and nod.

"I figured not. In fact, I quite like your advice, Merlin. And I would love to speak with you," you say, turning to the door. You didn't miss his grin.

"Rest well, Y/N," he says. You glance back at him, smiling.

"You as well, Merlin."

[stevie-wicks]

red, black and blue

She’d taken the photo in some empty parking lot in downtown LA, sunlight two years younger glinting off the hood of the Camaro. Billy’s moustache was still a couple of stray gold whiskers on his upper lip; his hair just past the tips of his unpierced ears. A different Billy to the one Hawkins had seen, but post-California Billy hadn’t had much time for Max’s amateur attempts at photography. Or for Max, in general.

“It’s a good photo.”

Jonathan Byers was not a formal wear kind of guy. He looked stiff and uncomfortable in his ugly suit- or maybe that was just an extension of how he was feeling. How they all were.

Max wrapped her hands around her elbows, suddenly regretting resisting her mother’s attempts to usher her into a jacket. “Thanks. I know he looks- different.”

Jonathan looked for a moment like he might offer her his ugly coat; then he probably remembered the uglier shirt he wore underneath. “He looks happier.”

“He was.” Max dug her nails into her skin. “He hated it here.”

Jonathan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Listen, Max; I know it’s not- it’s not really the same, but when I- when I thought Will was gone, I-” He swallowed. “Will is my best friend. I know that sounds really lame, but I just thought that. Maybe you’d feel better, or, I dunno. I know what it’s like.”

He was trying so hard. Max almost felt bad for him. “I don’t think you do.”

She’d wanted to sit next to Lucas, but her mom hadn’t. Some murmured nonsense about Neil not liking it; some louder nonsense about how they were a family and that now, more than ever, they had to stay together.

El became the compromise.

Not that Neil was gung-ho about El, either; not with the oversized flannel and suspenders she’d refused to change out of. Light blue eyes bore a hole into the side of Max’s head as she shuffled into the pew next to El. They weren’t the same shade of blue as Billy’s; he’d had more green to his, more like Max’s own. Neil’s were like ice chips.

A bony hand reached over, and Max looked up at Joyce Byers’s warm brown instead. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she whispered.

Stupidly, Max said, “He owed you a plate.”

El stirred. “I owe him my life,” she said quietly.

The last funeral Max had been to had been for some distant Mayfield relative. She’d been six and she’d cried all the way to Glendale because she was missing Jabberjaw. Then Dad bought her an ice cream and she’d forgotten all about Jabberjaw. She fell asleep halfway through the service, and they got home in time for Speed Buggy.

Billy’s service took half as long and felt an eternity longer.

Mom had offered to do a eulogy. She’d brought it up over breakfast, nervous eyes darting between Max and Neil, as if either of them would put up a fight. She tottered to her feet now, shuffling awkwardly to the front, in a dress a few laundry cycles short of being grey. For a fleeting moment, Max wished she had put up a fight. Billy would’ve died-

Max bit her cheek hard enough to taste copper.

Mom cleared her throat. “Billy and I didn’t know each other for very long, but I wish we had. He was a wonderful young man.” She dabbed at her eyes with a ratty handkerchief.

Max sank back into her seat. Maybe it was for the best; she could never lie about Billy the way her mom did. Not when all she could think of was the blood- God, so much blood, his blood- his last scream torn out of his chest by misshapen claws- apologies on a dying breath-

She stood up. Mom paused midway between some crap about Billy’s ‘respect and responsibility’.

“Maxine,” Mom said, mortified.

“I have to go.” She tore outside, knuckling her burning eyes.

The breeze nipped at her skin. She leaned against the wall, rubbing her hands up her arms. It was mid-July, for Pete’s sake.

She should’ve worn the stupid jacket.

She wiped at her face roughly. When her vision cleared, Lucas stood in front of her.

“Your mom’s done talking, if you wanna head back inside.” He kicked at a pebble.

Max kicked it back. It skittered away, just out of Lucas’s reach. “Not really.”

He squared his shoulders. “Mind if I join you, then?”

She shrugged. He hesitated for a moment before sidling up next to her, arms barely brushing.

“Steve’s giving his speech now.”

Max’s eyebrows reached her scalp.

“For the basketball team,” Lucas clarified, then added, a little awkwardly, “None of the other guys showed up.”

It shouldn’t hurt, but. “Yeah, well. Didn’t think Steve would, either. He hated Billy’s guts.” She dug her heels into the gravel. “You all did.”

Lucas fell quiet. “I didn’t hate him.”

Max snorted. “’Cause you’re not supposed to hold grudges over people who are-” She blinked back a fresh wave of tears. God, Maxine; you’re such a goddamn girl, Billy would’ve said. “You should. He was awful to you.”

“I didn’t hate him,” he repeated. “I mean, he scared the shit out of me, sure. But still. He was your brother.”

“That’s not an excuse. And he was my step-”

“He was your brother.” Lucas had turned on his side, fully facing her now. “And I know you lo- cared about him. And I’m trying to tell you that it’s okay to cry.”

Her eyes welled with tears. She hadn’t allowed herself to; not since Starcourt, not since she’d read the twenty-eight other names in the paper, not since she’d come home in an ambulance and her brother in a casket and Neil locked up Billy’s room and tore down everything else that had belonged to his son and threw it all in the trash like he’d been waiting to get rid of it-

Lucas held out an arm. Max buried her face in his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt and turning it translucent with her tears.

She cried long enough for her tear ducts to run dry, and then stood sniffling into the wet shirt. She was probably making it all gross with her snot, but she didn’t let herself get too torn up about it. The Sinclairs could afford a washing machine.

“Maxine.”

Max went rigid. Lucas, unbothered and oblivious, kept his arms around her. “Hey, Mr. Hargrove.”

She turned around slowly, just in time to catch the flicker of revulsion that passed over Neil’s face. “And who are you, boy?”

There was a painful pause. Max’s nails carved crescents into her palms.

“Lucas Sinclair, sir,” Lucas said at last.

Neil’s eyes were glacial. Max barely suppressed a shiver when they trained on her. “Maxine; something you learn when you grow older that there are a certain type of people in this world that you stay away from. And this boy?” Neil cut his gaze to Lucas. “This boy is one of them.”

Max reeled back. “I-”

“You stay away from my daughter, Sinclair; do you hear me?” Neil hadn’t raised his voice once since he’d started speaking. To any passers-by, this would look like a normal conversation. “Stay away.”

He didn’t wait for Lucas to respond, tugging Max away with a harsh grip on her wrist. She didn’t dare to turn around.

“I don’t want you anywhere near that boy, Maxine.” His hold loosened the closer they got to the car- Neil’s car, a respectable Ford sedan. She didn’t dare tug her hand free, either. “I hope you learn your lesson with this. Billy didn’t; not at first. I’m afraid I had to use more- forceful- methods with him. I trust I won’t have to do the same with you.”

Max turned to Neil despite herself. It was the first time he’d said Billy’s name since the Fourth of July.

His eyes gave nothing away. “Do I make myself clear?” His fingers tightened again.

“Yes, Papa.”

“Good.” Neil’s smile was a mirror of Billy’s; shark-like and vicious, moments away from tearing into your throat. “It’s about time you got some new friends, too. Girls your age shouldn’t be hanging around with boys too much.”

“El’s a girl,” Max told her shoes.

Neil scoffed. “Really? Did she show you proof?”

What happened to you, Mad Max? Billy would’ve asked. You’re not going to stand up for your little hick friends?

Or maybe-

I had to use more forceful methods with him - the bruises she’d see on Billy while his own knuckles remained unscathed- Mom whisking her away on impromptu shopping trips whenever Neil and Billy raised their voices- forceful methods -

- maybe he would understand.

★

Billy’s life couldn’t have fit into a garbage bag.

Max hadn’t gone into his room since she’d gone with El, but he had to have more than what Neil had thrown out onto the sidewalk. Outside the four walls of his room, it was like Billy hadn’t even existed.

She slipped out of bed in the quiet.

Billy had taught her how to pick a lock, back in California. “Use a hairpin, or somethin’- you got one of those?”

She unfurled her fingers. The hairpin was damp with sweat. She wiped it on her t-shirt, and slid it into the keyhole.

“Keep your big ears close to the door; you won’t hear squat that far away.”

She held her breath, pressing her ear to the cool wood.

“Wait for the sound- there, you hear that? That’s how you know the tumblers are in place.”

The door swung open with a soft click.

Max half expected to be assaulted by cigarette smoke and hair metal. But it had been almost a week, and all that Billy had left behind were stale air and silence.

She flicked on the flashlight. The blinds were drawn, the bed unmade, half his closet on the floor. Air the room out, and you could pretend he’d walk right in.

His schoolbooks balanced an ashtray; the desk was not for studying. Instead, he’d cluttered it with beer cans and tapes and a tree’s worth of loose-leaf.

She padded over and sat down in his chair, trying to imagine him hunched over the desk, scribbling on page after page in messy letters. Billy’s handwriting was just as angry as he was.

Her eyes flickered over song lyrics- snippets from the racket she’d been forced to sit through every weekday morning and afternoon. Somehow, silent car rides had lost their appeal.

Strange little doodles decorated the margins- band logos and cars and anatomically inaccurate depictions of women. “Gross,” Max said aloud, pushing the papers away with a theatric shudder.

The tabletop had not been exempted from Billy’s artistry; Max shone the flashlight on more band logos and cuss words and names engraved into the wood. Here there was a crude AC/DC logo, the lightning slash extending down to form the ‘t’ in ‘TWAT’. There was a ‘María’ right next to that, the accent mark angled in the wrong direction. Max remembered her; she’d gone out with Billy for all of sophomore year- the longest Max had ever seen him go out with one girl. She’d taught Max how to do makeup.

A few paces away was Tina- the prettiest girl in Hawkins High, everyone agreed- Laurie was a slut, but she’d complimented Max on her hair- and then Karen. Max traced the ‘K’; she didn’t know any Karens who went to Hawkins High- but then again, she barely knew all the kids in the middle school. There could be a pretty blonde cheerleader somewhere, talking to her friends over the phone. “Yeah, I went out with him a couple of times,” Max imagined her saying. She’d twirl a strand of hair around her finger, lips pulled down in a pout. “And now he’s dead. Spooky.”

She knuckled her eyes. The beam of the flashlight caught on the letter S.

She held the flashlight up, frowning at the name that made itself obvious. Stevie- except the ‘i’ was jammed haphazardly between the ‘v’ and the ‘e’, like it had been an afterthought.

She stared at it until the light flickered overhead.

“Shit!”

Max dropped the flashlight, head snapping back to the door. It hung ajar, just as she’d left it. Heart in her throat, she inched towards the doorway.

The hallway light flicked on.

Max held the flashlight close to her chest, knuckles bone-white and stark. She stepped outside, and the light turned on in the living room.

When she stood in the doorway, staring out at the lifeless room, the telephone started to ring.

Her feet felt heavy as cinderblocks. She plucked the receiver from its cradle, bringing it to her ear with shaking hands.

From the other side, someone breathed heavily.

Max pressed the phone closer, hard enough to hurt. “Billy?”

A crackle of static. Some peculiar noise.

Apologies on a dying breath.

Then, “Max.”

ao3

[hs-devote]

láthi: the unwritten truth

Moodboard * Content * Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

the completed series here

*

the unwritten truth

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“You don't have to ask twice.”

“Fine then.” it sighs, “ Who are you going to sacrifice?”

“She was the Goddess of the Moon. Selene.”

. . . .

One year later..

“It's so sad the Goddess died after a year of torture. Plus, her husband sentenced her to prison.”

“Do you know what caused the Goddess to die at such a young age?”

“I heard rumours that she was cursed?"

“How could she die from being cursed? No one in the realm could hurt the royal family.”

“Ladies, it would be respectful if you didn't talk nonsense about your God and Goddess.”

The maids wince, terrified when Harry's advisor caught them gossiping in the kitchen. Feeling embarrassed, they quickly return to their work and praying he doesn't report them to the God.

“You're lucky that I won't report you to His Majesty,” he announces, “Go get to work.”

The all women nod as the advisor leaving them alone. While they get back to their work, Arion, the advisor, immediately goes to Harry who's in his study. When he arrives, he sees the door slightly ajar and knocks on it, walking in when the God allows him.

“Is there any good news, Your Majesty?" Arion asks after he bends down, looking at the distressed God behind his oak table.

“Is that creature still exist?” Harry hums, his eyes never leaving the old book in his hand.

“What creature, Your Majesty?”

Harry sighs, closes the book tiredly and put it on the table. "I saw an odd mark on Selene's neck, and it disappeared just before the cremation ceremony began. It was an ancient mark that belongs to mythical creatures, according to this book." he points at the book, "As far as I know, the mythical creatures vanished when Centauri attacked Sicily far centuries ago."

“So, you think Her Majesty's death has something to do with them?”

“I don't want to think like that, but that mark makes me uneasy." Harry scratches his temple, "They should be extinct, right?"

“I heard one rumour, Your Majesty." Arion starts, "When the chaos broke out, some of the survivors chose to negate their physical and returned to where they were born. And some of them had extraordinary power."

“If what you think is true, you have to find them. If there are humans who know its existence, they will know the truth about our realm.”  he adds, looking at Harry respectfully who's now listening to him carefully, “Whose mark is it?”

“Cerberus.”

“Belonged to the God of Dead,” Arion whispers, “Do you think it inherited its owner power?”

“I don't know, Arion.” Harry sighs, “But for sure, I have to find the truth.” . . . .

It never occurred to Ilitia that she would do such a thing like this the first time in her life, and she vowed to be last time too.

Right now, she was standing in the middle of a Parthenon, under the starry night of Corinth, eyes deadly looking at a figure that only she could see. A few meters in front of them, lay a woman on a stone table, looking beautiful and peaceful in her forever sleep. Looking at her dead granddaughter, she realised that she had travelled this far and didn't want her efforts to fail.

“It's my honour to able to see you again, Carmenta."

“It's been a long decade, is it?”

“I heard you were in Sicily,” its stepped closer, “What brought you here?”

“My granddaughter was killed by order of a Goddess–”

“How come?”

Ilitia bit her lips, not sure if she should tell the chronology. But if she refused, it wouldn't help her. Right then, she had to choose the right word.

“She was carrying the Goddess' husband child. Long story short, the Goddess found out and order her guards to killed my granddaughter.”

“She was impregnated by a God?” it raised its head, “You're not making it up, are you?”

“The Goddess couldn't conceive because of a curse, and her husband went down to Earth to find me. Instead, he met my darling Y/N and they fell in love. The God cheated behind his wife, yes, and.. they constantly having sexual intercourse until Y/N got pregnant." she starts, "We all do know that no God can impregnate a human. But, that was the fate."

“And when the Goddess find out about that, she was terrified that her husband would have an heir to the throne from someone else?” it continued Ilitia's story and was agreed by the woman.

“Is that the Centauri crown?”

“Yes.”

“How tragic.”

“Because of that, I came here to ask your help to bring my Y/N back because she doesn't deserve to die this way." Ilitia whispers, "I'll do anything for her, and help Centauri to have an heir to the throne. After all, the Goddess couldn't give an heir and my granddaughter has the right to find her happiness, even with a God."

“You know that the price isn't easy, do you? What do you prepare for this?”

“A life for a life.” Ilitia deadpanned, “It's a fair price to trade my granddaughter's life.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“You don't have to ask twice.”

“Fine then.” it sighs, “ Who are you going to sacrifice?”

“The Goddess of the Moon. Selene."

. . . .

This is the second time Harry has visited this mountain peak, a place where used to be the hideout of previous Gods and Goddesses, the place believed to be the hideout of the mythical creaturesor even a born place. The mountain is very beautiful when the sun shines on Earth, but quite scary when the eerie silent echoed after the night sky appears.

The God doesn't know where to start, and this mission reminds him of his arrival to Syracuse nearly two years ago, making him remember his darling Y/N. He misses her so much, and it hurts his soul. If he knew where Y/N's grave was, at least he could visit her and loving on her even if he only could touch her tombstone.

“Mount Olympus feels quite different." Arion says next to him, his eyes stare at the endless mountain slope.

For this chance, Harry decided to bring Arion with him because he knows this mission isn't easy. And surely as his advisor, Arion can help him and give him advise since the man has studied mythical creatures.

“Cerberus is a dog. There's no way it stays on the top of a mountain, right? Too risky if humans see it." Harry mumbles, "If it only visible."

“Let's get down to the ground then, Your Majesty.”

Harry nods, and in a split second, he's setting foot in the valley. Then, they begin to explore, hoping to find any sign of Cerberus. The two of them always checked every cave or spot that could potentially be a possible residence for that giant creature.

It had taken them nearly four hours and the night had almost turned to dawn, but they had found nothing. Harry is quite desperate, and thinking they have come to the wrong place.

“Any luck?” Harry asks after Arion appeared in front of him, only for Harry get another disappointment when Arion shakes his head no.

“Did we come to the wrong place?”

“I'm– ”

In all of sudden, the air around them feels stifled and the wind feels hot even though the sun hasn't yet risen. Harry also realises that the grass they were trampling on was shrivelled at once. Something feels strange.

“It's strange..” Arion looking around, “Something happened.”

“Something comes,” Harry corrects him, “Something comes closer, still hiding from us.”

“Show yourself!” Harry shouts, “We came in peace! Just looking for something!”

The hot wind getting stronger and stronger, until a bolt of red lightning swooped down in front of him. Now, Harry can see clearly what appears before him. A giant three headed-dogs, its body glows slightly reddish. It has a serpent tail, along with snakes protruding from it back. Its glowing red eyes look annoyed at being disturbed. The Cerberus looks intimidating than he thought.

“Why are you looking for me, Your Majesty?” it smirks, showing it canines coating with saliva, “Why are you bothering me at my stay?”

“I apologies if I disturb your sleep,” Harry answers, “I didn't know that you were survived and hiding here.”

“We don't want humans to see me, do we?” it argues, “Even though I'm invisible.”

“Why didn't you go back to Centauri?”

“My master was dead, I couldn't go back without an owner. Besides, it's more peaceful here if I go back to your realm." it scoffs, "What do you want? The sun is almost rising, and I can't let anyone see me."

“My wife has died, and I saw your mark on her neck.” Harry points out his serpent tail, “Do you have anything to do with her death?”

“Your wife died? How unfortunate.” Cerberus mocks, “If someone is destined to die, then she must die.”

“I just want to know why you killed her, Cerberus.” Harry seethes, “You have no right to the life of a God or Goddess.”

“Despite her death lightened your burden, Your Majesty?” Cerberus arches its eyebrow, “And set you free? You should thank me, anyway.”

“I know you inherited your master's power but you can't kill her like that. She has nothing wrong against you.”

“Yet she has done sins and be cunning." Cerberus nods, "And now if I may ask you, how do you feel after your manipulative wife gone forever? As far as I know, a God and Goddess cannot be divorced if it's not death."

“Your Majesty, he knows too much.” Arion mutters under his breath, “Do you– ”

“Advisor, I didn't ask you to speak.” Cerberus growls then averts its gaze to Harry, “You once planned to do annulment but it couldn't be done because the court said a ruler must still have a wife.”

“How did you know?” Harry challenges, “Why did you know everything?”

“A bird told me," it stares boldly at him, "And I started to think, her death is something I can be proud of because she's the rightest person.”

Harry frowns. Something feels out of place with what it said and bothering him. And those question being thrown at him, he could easily answer them. Yet, he couldn't. After all, he still loves Selene even though he also hates her. Selene is his wife who was always there for him. Of course he was sad to know that the woman died in prison after she had been sick for a year.

“What did you mean with the rightest?”

“A year ago, someone came and beg me to help bring someone's life back. They're family, tho. This old woman said that her granddaughter died innocently and wanted her granddaughter to come back to her life. It was not an easy task and there must be a price to pay. When she mentioned the sacrifice, I was quite baffled that she prepared another life. Well, I didn't kill the sacrifice right away, I tortured them first by sucked their life slowly before the death calling their name."

“Selene was being sacrificed? Who dared to do that? Did you not aware that you overstepping our rules?!" Harry's voice boomed, angry at what he had just heard. How could someone risk Selene's life just to bring back a dead person?

“You let a human order you to kill a Goddess? Really?" he hisses, "How sick of that!"

“She was right, you're quite stupid too apparently." Cerberus rolls its eyes.

“Cerberus, I order– "

“You're just an advisor, and you're just a guest in my stay. I do not belong to the Centauri so I don't take orders from anyone." Cerberus cuts Arion off, "You think I'm stupid enough to do that for humans? Have you forgotten that only your people can see me?”

While Arion stares at Cerberus confused, Harry begins to think and digest every single word that came out from the creature from the beginning.

No way...

“Carmenta came to me to help her with Y/N, and she traded her granddaughter's life over your wife's.” . . . .

His heart is pounding like crazy, almost like about to burst through his ribcage. He cannot believe it, his darling Y/N is back to life. His Y/N is safe and sound. His Y/N is free from Selene's torture. It feels so long from the last time he saw her, he really missed her and couldn't wait to see her. There are millions of questions running through his head for him to ask Y/N and Ilitia.

How could?

How is she?

Did she miss him?

Will Ilitia allow him to meet her?

When Cerberus revealed the truth, he couldn't think straight. All he had in mind was Y/N, Y/N, and Y/N only. He had to find her as soon as possible. Despite he had to beg on his knees to Cerebus which made Arion widened his eyes; asking where the last time it met Ilitia was, it was worth it.

And now, here he is, in Corinth. His long wait ends in one of the cities on the seafront of Greece. Of course, Ilitia couldn't possibly stay in Syracuse anymore, she started fresh in Corinth with Y/N. With Arion went back to Centauri, Harry feels freer to get Y/N.

Well, his search for his true love isn't an easy thing. It's been two days and he hasn't found her yet and plans to rent a house longer if it takes a long time because it's impossible to go back and forth to Centauri. Whatever it takes, Harry has to find her.

“Why is it so hard to find you, Y/N?" he mutters while looking endless of Corinth's sea, "I miss you so much, do you miss me too?"

She's here, Your Majesty

Your happy ending

Your long wait

Harry was enjoying the sea breeze so much that he didn't realise he'd been daydreaming on the shore for too long. He already spent hours tiredly finding Y/N and it seems that his efforts should be even harder tomorrow.

When he decided to leave the beach and return to his rented house, he swears that his eyes are playing a trick on him. About twenty meters away from him, he sees the woman he was looking for is staring at the open sea in front of her, both hands on her dress pockets with her bare feet in the water.

She looks even more beautiful.

She looks healthy.

She looks perfect.

And finally, he finds her.

Without a second thought, Harry runs to her – afraid that she will vanish like when he saw her in his castle. He doesn't want to be late, and he doesn't want to lose her again.

When his body crashes on her and his strong arms wrapped around her body, Harry feels home.

He's too happy because it feels real, he shed tears of happiness when he feels her warm and alive body. Then, he breaks the hug and cupping her face with both his palms, adoring the beautiful face in front of him. Admiring the woman who's staring at his teary green eyes.

“It' you. You're here.” he sobs, “You're here with me. You're back. You're alive. You're safe.”

“I miss you so much and it hurts my soul.” he gently strokes her cheek, “How are you, my darling?”

Yet, what Y/N said to him make his smile fade away, “Who are you?” . . . .

“You know, when someone's life is being exchanged, the life does return. But, as pure life. So, your granddaughter's will start a fresh life. She won't remember anything, but the basic abilities like speaking, writing, reading, and so on won't be erased. So, you will have extra effort to help her adjust."

“I understand,” Ilitia nods “She was pregnant before. Will the baby come back too?”

Cerberus shakes its head, "No. If you want her baby to come back, you have to prepare one more God or Goddess life to trade because he has a God's blood running on him."

“How do you know her child is going to be a boy?”

“Mythical creatures always know, Carmenta.”

. . . . “Why did you do that, Ilitia?” Harry asks.

After the shock he got when Y/N admitted she didn't know him, Harry couldn't believe it at all. Yet, he let out a relief huff when Ilitia approached them and didn't look surprised at all, and invited Harry to talk at their house. And along the way, he stole a glance at Y/N who walked next to Ilitia, looking so confused yet curious about his presence.

“Honestly? I refused my innocent granddaughter to be killed your wife, Harry. She had done nothing wrong, but you and your wife.”

“Me?” Harry frowns, his eyes looking around for caution if Y/N hear them since Ilitia asked her to wait in her bedroom, “I have nothing to– ”

“Your ignorance, your selfishness. If you're smart enough, you could prevent this all.” Ilitia scowls, “You couldn't choose between her and Selene, and you didn't want to lose one of them. Sadly, your behaviour made you lose both of them. Also, your future child.”

“I know you resent me so much, Ilitia. But, I truly sorry for all this mess. What I feel towards her is real." he gives her apologetic look, "I just want to fix everything."

“Of course, that's why you came here all the way from Centauri.” Ilitia shrugs, “Besides, this is my way to make her happy and help my old home to have a better future.”

“Centauri is always be your home, Ilitia." he reassures her, "After all, Y/N will needs if she comes home with me.”

“How confident of you.” Ilitia chuckles, “If so, you have to start over as if you just know each other since she doesn't remember you. And win her heart if you have chosen your destiny.”

Harry nods as Ilitia gets up from her couch, calling Y/N to meet them both in the living room. While waiting for her, Harry starts to get nervous and his hand begin to sweat, too overwhelmed by the happiness. When Y/N appears in front of him, Ilitia who's standing behind her granddaughter smiling to the old yet new couple, "Mia cara, this Harry. Maybe you didn't remember him but you were so close with him, he just come home from his overseas trip.” and strokes Y/N arms lovingly, “Just introduce yourself as the beginning, he would understand.”

“I haven't introduced myself yet.” Harry offers his hand for Y/N to take, smiling fondly. “My name's Harry”

The girl smiles and shakes his hand softly, “Hi, Harry. I'm Y/N.”

Just like the first time.

*

[jordanstrophe]

Going Once, Going Twice, part 10

Prison party, part 2/?

Masterlist

CW: Pet whumpees, whump party, abuse, collars, restraints, manhandling, shock collar, public torture, panic attack, anxiety, creepy whumpers, 

Robert held Peter close in his arms, not daring letting him an inch apart in fear someone would just rip him from his arms. This was a bad idea... This was a terrible stupid bad idea, his gut feeling was going haywire, but they were there now. Might as well get it over with as soon as possible. 

There were people all standing around, the room filled with chattering and laughing, drowning the sobbing coming from some of the Pets that were either standing by their owners cowering, or quietly kneeling at their feet. You could tell a lot about that person based on how they were treating their Pets and how they were behaving, limping, black eyes or tight collars. 

Robert scanned the crowd trying to find Nina, before walking to the main room. It was a dining room, a long massive table in the center, slowly being filled with expensive exotic foods for dinner. Some people were already claiming their seat early, as close to the ends as possible hoping to be seated by someone important. 

“My my, what a sweet thing you have there.” A deep charming voice said from behind. Peter went stiff, as Robert glanced behind him. There was the Barron, standing well dressed in a suit and bow tie, a Pet kneeling at his feet with a chain attracted to his bound wrists, like a leash. 

“He’s... Clean.” The man tilted his head to get a better look at Peter’s face, noting the lack of damage. He had plenty of scars, sure, but you would have to really look to find them. “Can I help you?” Robert muttered. The man let out a loud jolly laugh, throwing his head back. The battered bruised Pet at his feet cringed fearfully. 

Peter’s heart pounded in his chest, both from fear and guilt. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the broken Pet at his feet, cowering, terrified.

That was supposed to be him... Wasn’t it.

“This must be your first time here, call me Nicholas Grimm. You must be Robert McAllen, right? I don’t recognize you entirely, it was pretty dark at the auction. But I do recognize him.” They pointed. Peter flinched when he moved his arm, as if he had been shot. “I sincerely apologize, but I’m looking for someone, if you don’t mind.” Robert tried to keep his voice as polite as he could, backing away. “Come now! I’m an important man, sit with me at dinner, there’s something I must discuss with you.” He smiled, extending his hand to the dinner table. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on staying for dinner, I’m really in a hurry.” He muttered, trying to make it clear he was walking off. 

“You’re.. Not staying for dinner?” He was clearly trying not to break down laughing again, biting on his lower lip. “No sir!” He called, hoping he was inched far away enough it was appropriate to walk away. 

The Barron shook his head with a large satisfied smile. “What an absolute fool... He has no idea.” He giggled to himself. He glanced down at the Pet at his feet, giving him a swift hard kick against his leg. ‘’Isn’t that right?” He hissed harshly down at the boy. “Yes sir!” He immediately shouted in response. “No stutter... Good job. That’s one less punishment for tonight. Keep it up.” He growled.

“Are you okay?” Robert whispered down as Peter. “I’m fine...” He muttered with a shaky voice. “I’m sorry... I didn’t know he would be here.” He admitted with guilt. He felt a weight being torn from his arm, as he gasped and whirled around. A tall woman had a grasp on Peter’s arm, wrenching it up as she pulled him close. Peter let out a cry as her long sharp nails dug into his arm. “Oh how adorable! I’ve never seen such a clean empty canvas before.” She smiled wildly, grabbing his chin and tilting it to the side. “Hey! Get yours hands off!” Robert yelled, grabbing Peter in one hand, shoving her hand off with the other. “You dare?... You don’t have to be so rude about it! I was just looking!” The woman snapped, crossing her arms. She wore a hat with long white feathers flowing from it. “Then look with your eyes...” Robert cursed under his breath. She raised an eyebrow. “I want to borrow him. How much?” She asked. “He’s not up for grabs, please don’t touch him.” Robert snapped. Peter immediately latched onto his shirt trying to hide himself underneath his coat. 

Robert shook his head in disgust at the woman as he slid through the crowd as for away from the women as he could. He found somewhat of a clear corner as he sat down on a couch and setting Peter next to him. “Are you okay? Let me see your wrist...” He muttered, gently taking his arm and pulling his sleeve up. “I’m okay.” He muttered, his voice was obviously shaking as he trembled. “Honey...” Robert sighed. “That’s it... We’re going home, I can’t believe I actually brought you here. I never imagined it was like this.” He muttered. “But, you didn’t get what you came for!” He tried to argue back. “It doesn’t matter! You’re not safe here. I don’t even see Nina. It was just a stupid letter, you’re more important then that.” He said.

Peter let off a small sad smile. “I’m sorry, I should never have made such a scene... Urrg.. I’m so stupid!” He cried out, digging his nails in his hair. Robert immediately snatched his hands up in his. “Young man, none of that. We’ll talk in the car.” He said, standing him up and walking straight for the door. He kept his head down as he pushed his way through the crowd, but when he reached for the handle, the door didn’t budge. “What the....” He muttered, jostling the door back and forth. 

“Well well... Would you look at that. Speak of the devil.” A creeping voice sang. Robert shut his eyes in disturbance, slowly turning around to face Nina. “Hey cousin...” He muttered, nodding in acknowledgme- “DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT!” She hissed with a shrieking voice. The room quickly went into deathly silence, as she chuckled, cleaning her throat. “Ehem... Excuse me. I never dreamed in a thousand years that I would see you, here of all places. And what’s this you have here?” She smirked, bending down with her hands resting on her knees. “You, Rob, have a Pet. My Robert McAllen, has a Pet.” She laughed. “Honestly, I wanted to put you on a ban list of every occasion I threw, but I didn’t bother with this one because, well, I figured you were too much of a poster boy to get one. Where'd you get him at, second hand thrift store for five dollars? Hah!” She laughed at her own joke.

“Five million at an auction.” He gave a sweet yet smug smile.

“F-f-f-five... Million.” She muttered, eyes going wide, almost dropping the glass she held in her hand that went slack. “You paid five m-million, of MY money, on a little Pet?!” She hollered. She tried to get a good look at Peter’s face, who was pressing his body against Robert’s back. 

“Awww... He’s is pretty cute.” She cooed, her mood instantly shifting as she gave him a small smile and wave. He only had one eye poking out from behind him, wide and fearful. 

“I was here for you, actually. I wanted to talk to you about a letter that was left for me. A letter from my mother.” He explained. 

“A letter, hmm? Not familiar with it.” She shrugged. “I think you are, and I’m willing to pay for it.” He said. She gave him a curious look, before a smirk spread across her face. Sit next to me at dinner, at my left hand.” She smiled, turning to walk away. “Wait! I need to take him home. Can you unlock the door?” He called. 

She broke down laughing, she laughed and laughed as it echoed throughout the walls. “Oh darling!” She laughed. “You really didn’t do your research. At five the doors close and lock, no one in, no one out until midnight. That’s the rules.” She shrugged. ‘'What? What kind of a rule is that? Just let us out!” He hollered. “It’s our only rule, you should have checked, it was on the front page where the party was advertised. Chill out now, have a drink, join us for dinner, show off your preciouses boy you got there. You’re here now, might as well enjoy it.” She waved, slithering off into the crowd.

Robert sighed, trying the door one last time as if it might magically become unlocked. “M-master...” Peter muttered, tugging his coat. “I’ll be okay, I can do this, I have you.” He gave him a nervous smile. Robert placed a hand on his head. “I’m so sorry hon... I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” He muttered back. 

He joined the dinner table, Nina sat at the head, of course, with the spot she promised left open for him. She was happily chatting away as a guest standing next to her, her eyes immediately caught his, as she waved him over. 

Robert glanced at the single chair, then back at her. “Just put him on the floor, you can feed him scraps if that’s what you choose.” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’d rather just hold him.” He glared. “Hold him-? Whatever.” She waved her hand, annoyed. 

Robert Pulled Peter onto his lap who immediately latched onto his shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Nina waved the man away who was trying to talk to her, as she stared at Peter intensely. 

“My eyes are up here.” Robert grumbled. She spat out a laugh, before turning attention to the person who just sat at her right hand. “There’s the man of the hour.” She smiled. “Hello my dear.” The Barron smiled gleefully, shoving his Pet to the floor at his feet. Robert knew at that moment something was going on. He wasn’t sure what, but she was up to something. 

‘’Nina, the letter...” Robert tried. Before he could get anymore out, the lights began to dim. “Sssh! We’ll talk after the show. Barron wants to talk to you too.” She smiled before turning her attention to a stage, as red curtains that took up the entire wall slowly lifted.

A man in a top hat was standing over another who was heavily restrained, with his head down silently.

“Good day to the ladies and gentlemen. I hope each and everyone enjoys tonight's show! This here is Eden, he’s going to be demonstrating his marvelous obedience and respect.” The man smiled. “But if he doesn’t perform flawlessly, he gets a slight punishment...” The man winked, holding up a trigger, mercilessly hitting the button. The man let out a holler, chest slamming onto the floor, as a buzzing sound could be heard. The man let go of the button, grabbing his hair and forcing his head up to show off the shock collar around his neck, the crowd laughing and cheering.

“Master!” Peter whispered as loudly as he dared. “I can’t see this! Please don’t let me watch this, I’m begging you!” He panicked, clutching onto his coat desperately. He was on the verge of hyperventilating, as Robert let him off his lap. “Go in the front room sweetie, I’ll come get you in a minute.” He whispered. “Thank you!” He cried, bolting off while covering his ears. 

Robert knew Peter had some built up trauma, he couldn’t quite watch this either, but he couldn’t do all of this only to miss his one window with Nina. 

The Barron shot a glance back, noticing Peter slipping off into the other room. He smirked, before turning his attention back to the stage with a wide evil grin.

Nina McAllen

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @moose-teeth @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @yet-another-heathen @sillypizzazineoperator @freefallingup13 @alien-octopus @unicornscotty @whumpzone  @penny-for-your-whump @girlwithnoballons242 @whumpingredroses  @rippedjeansandfadeddreams  @cupcakes-and-pain @thinkingofausername

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for reading!

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Courtship | [Obi-Wan Kenobi x M!Reader] | Star Wars

Notes: This is inspired by @xmalereader​ Mandalorian x Dark Fey! Reader story. I absolutely adore his stories and the concept, therefore I wanted to write something similar, only with Obi-Wan. 

Although this is based off Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, I just mainly used the character designs, while deciding the culture of the Dark Fey myself. So it could be interpreted as an AU

Fandoms: Star Wars, The Clone Wars, Maleficent AU

Warnings: Heartbreak, Slight Fluff, Slight OOC, Obi-Wan Being Oblivious

Summary: Obi-Wan knows nothing about courtship and causes a huge misunderstanding.

Word Count: 7′455

Taglist: - 

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Reader is a Dark Fey!

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka had been on an undercover rescue mission when the transport ship that should have taken them back to the Core Worlds malfunctioned. 

That only worsened the mood because their mission target had died and Obi-Wan had gotten his lightsaber destroyed in the process.

Anakin, the great pilot he was, decided it was for the best to try and land on the nearest planet and get help. 

But none of them had expected that the small multicolored ball they had landed on only housed a few inhabitants - most of which had never seen a spaceship, or even a droid. 

Thankfully they found one of the more progressive tribes. 

They had a person who spoke Basic, and fortunately, C-3PO was with them for the rescue mission, so they had another way to communicate. Although, the language of the natives was only partly in his database. 

The alien race who lived on the small planet was a species they had never seen before. They were all winged, with feathers of different colors and lengths, and two large horns that were different for each individual. 

They called themselves Dark Fey, however the name didn't seem accurate. At least not for him. Dark wasn't a word Obi-Wan would have associated with them.

Especially not with the man who had taken them in. 

Y/N was the son of the tribe chief of the village, and his wings reminded the Jedi of a butterfly in one of the Jedi gardens. They were mainly orange, with a speck of white and black and some small blue dots. 

His father's wings were even more colorful, but Obi-Wan preferred the ones of the son because they were less shrill. 

And like the color of his wings, Y/N was kinder than his father. He wanted to help them find a way back to Coruscant.

"Father, we need to help them," argued the h/c-haired man, his eyes glistening with annoyance when his stubborn parent crossed his arms and flipped his wings. 

The three Jedi were currently in one of the giant tree trunks, in the forest where the Fey resided, in a room as big as the Jedi Archives. It seemed to be the tribe's meeting hall. 

Y/N's father Aster sat on a throne made out of small tree branches, his red and orange wings spread wide behind his back. 

"Don't act like that, please," groaned Y/N, and Anakin and Obi-Wan only watched with furrowed brows, not understanding what kind of conversation was going on between the two men. 

C-3PO informed them about the dispute between the son and the father, and they realized that the tribe chief did not want them here. 

Ahsoka happily munched on the fruits that one of the younger Fey had brought, oblivious or more likely ignorant of the tense atmosphere in the hall. 

Although the Fey appeared not to welcome them, they still provided them with some hospitality. The Togruta flashed a toothy grin at one of the kids, and they giggled. 

"You know exactly why I don't want to help them!" 

Y/N's father looked at the three Jedi with a stern expression, and the only person in the room who wanted to support them huffed in anger. 

"We'll be careful!" 

The tension suddenly rose, and Obi-Wan assumed it was because the younger's wings now rose too, his feathers ruffled. 

"May I say something?" he asked carefully, all eyes then turned to him. 

The five women next to Aster leaned forward to listen, they were probably the elders of the tribe. 

Y/N turned to him, his eyes held a hint of displeasure, and Obi-Wan gulped, now asking himself if he had just made a big mistake. 

"Speak, human," ordered the tribe chief, the Fey who spoke Basic translated, and he bowed slightly, then made eye contact with Y/N's father. 

"We are only looking for a spaceship that can take us off-planet. We don't want to burden you with our presence and neither wish to harm you, we can also camp outside your land if you wish us to." 

The pupils of Aster shrank considerably, the air turned cold, and Ahsoka stopped eating. Anakin gave him a worried glance, and the Jedi realized that he had said or done something wrong. 

He lowered his gaze, and Anakin mimicked his posture, his hand gripping his lightsaber inside his sleeve tighter. 

Silence reigned over them, and Obi-Wan tried to catch a glimpse of the tribe chief, but then Y/N stepped before him, obstructing his view. 

"Father...", he began, but Aster interrupted him, standing up from his throne, wings now spreading even further, showing his hostility. 

"You became a burden when you stepped foot on this planet!", he snarled and descended the stairway made out of the giant tree. 

His son held his ground and ruffled his feathers. A single feather touched Obi-Wan's cheek, and he flinched from the softness. 

He looked upwards, and the man before them looked like an unmovable stone, an unbeatable protector, who had descended from heaven to help them. 

"They did not know, Father! And they had no choice either!" 

Y/N's voice now sounded as agitated as his father's, and the situation was about to escalate - although the Jedi did not know into what - when a calm voice suddenly spoke: 

"Believe in your son, Aster." 

Everyone in the hall turned toward the gigantic entrance where a single Dark Fey had landed. 

It was a woman with snow-white wings and silky hair that reached her hips. The present Fey bowed, and the Jedi knew that the newcomer was a respected figure within the tribe. 

From the way Y/N smiled at her and how the woman opened her arms wide, she probably was related to him, although their features showed no real resemblances, besides maybe the eyebrows. Y/N hugged her without hesitation.

"You're back," stated Aster, and his wings slightly relaxed. 

The woman smiled and then turned to Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka. 

"I apologize that I could not greet you when you arrived here. I am Neela, and you're names are?" she spoke in Basic, and all three of them were surprised.

Although it probably shouldn't shock them that much, when they first met Y/N, he also spoke the language. 

The translator seemed to have taught it to the ones who wanted to learn it. 

Anakin introduced himself first, a brilliant smile on his lips. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes in his mind. His former padawan had probably realized that Neela seemed to be the only one who could tame the tribe chief to some extent. 

Ahsoka greeted the woman with a respectful bow, and Obi-Wan did the same when he said his name. 

He stole a glance towards Y/N who's lips now showed a triumphant grin. The man noticed his stare and winked at him. His expression was something along the lines of 'Don't worry, we got this'. 

It seemed like the arrival of the white-haired woman turned the tides in their favor. 

"I heard you are stranded. Your arrival here is of great significance for us. My husband knows that, and his caution is not unreasonable. We do not wish to get involved with the galactic conflicts that are waging right now, I hope you understand." 

So, she's Aster's wife... But Y/N truly doesn't resemble her. 

Obi-Wan was curious about the woman. She knew more about the galaxy than the rest of the Dark Fey, or so it seemed. 

He nodded, and Anakin replied: 

"We do. None of us wants to involve you in the war, we're just trying to return home. Our ship is badly damaged, therefore we wanted to find someone who can take us with them." 

While Neela asked about their transmitters, Aster's face darkened, the further the conversation continued, but he did not interrupt his wife. 

Ahsoka's eyes glistened with respect, and Obi-Wan could imagine what she was thinking. Aster may be the tribe chief, but Neela held the reins in their relationship, which influenced the whole tribe and important decisions. 

Anakin then informed them of the last SOS-signal they had sent before they breached the atmosphere of the planet. 

"Someone is probably already looking for us," added Obi-Wan, and Aster's eyes turned into slits. 

"They will come and force us to leave!" he growled, more towards his wife than the Jedi. 

Neela turned around to face her husband, and he visibly flinched. The woman spread her white wings, and her wingspan was even wider than her husband's and Y/N's. Her aura was way more intimidating than the tribe chief’s one.  

"They won't stay, I will make sure of that." 

She spoke in their native language, but C-3PO translated it, although reluctantly, and the underlying threat worried Obi-Wan. 

If no one arrives will they try to kill us?

But Aster relaxed, and he stepped towards his wife, their foreheads touched, and the tribe chief sighed. 

Neela's wings lowered, and she then turned around again, her hand on her husband's back. 

"You are welcome to stay until your friends arrive. We will make sure that they will find you." 

Their action before not only was a display of intimacy but also an opportunity for a silent conversation, where they had decided if they would help the Jedi or not. 

Relief washed over Obi-Wan, and Anakin's shoulders relaxed. 

As if on cue ran the Fey children from the one corner of the hall towards Ahsoka, and they laughed and fluttered their wings excitedly. They spoke a few words in broken Basic and twirled around her.

The Togruta blinked in surprise and then joined their happy laughs and followed them to their friends. 

Obi-Wan and his former padawan cautiously stood up. Anakin only watched when the small bird-like kids kidnapped the Togruta, his expression showing a hint of worry. 

"She will be fine," said a calm voice, and the Jedi knights’ heads turned towards Y/N, who had walked closer. 

"I'm worried she'll do something offensive," confessed Anakin, and the man laughed loudly. 

His head tilted back, showing a necklace with a long blue feather and his wings flapped wildly. 

"Not to be mean, but you already offended us greatly, another misstep won't matter." 

The Fey continued to laugh when he saw their upset expressions. 

"Don't fret it. it's already a miracle that your droid knows parts of our language. How would you know about our culture." 

Neela joined their talk. Her eyes focused on Anakin. 

"May I talk to you?" 

He shared a look with Obi-Wan and then shrugged his shoulders. 

"Sure," he responded, and they distanced themselves, Obi-Wan now being left alone with the chief's son. 

"Why..." he began, unsure whether he should ask or not. 

"She can feel he's special." 

He lifted an eyebrow. 

"Feel?" 

Y/N turned his in Neela's direction. 

"Mother is like you. She was chosen too." 

Obi-Wan could guess what Y/N meant, and it honestly didn't surprise him as much as it probably should have. The moment Neela had stepped into the hall, the force had changed around them. 

"What about you?" he asked curiously. 

Y/N's expression turned somewhat solemn. 

"No, I- I wasn't chosen. It's not possible." 

The Fey's hand grabbed his necklace, and his wings quivered. 

Obi-Wan realized he had touched a sore spot and decided not to pry further. 

"Come with me", said Y/N after a short while, and his smile returned to his lips. 

"I'll show you where you guys can stay." 

The Jedi followed him out of the hall, after glancing back one last time to see Anakin and Ahsoka standing surrounded by Fey.

-

Y/N lead him across the branches of the giant tree, which seemed to be the main living area of the tribe. 

Twice, they used a hoist to travel higher up, the Fey explaining that they had been built for their youngest who couldn't fly yet. 

The Jedi could stay in a room, hollowed out of the main branch. The room was sparsely decorated with wooden furniture, and instead of beds, there were three hammocks made out of thick green fabric that felt considerably softer than it looked. 

Obi-Wan put his small backpack he had taken from the ship on the table and then turned towards Y/N. 

"Thank you for everything." 

He smiled at the Fey, and the man's expression twitched. 

"It's fine", he responded curtly, and before Obi-Wan could ask if something was wrong, he had already passed through the leaf curtain that gave the room some privacy and jumped off the branch. 

Obi-Wan stayed behind with a somewhat worried expression. He remembered what the man had said before. “You already offended us greatly.” 

Hopefully they weren’t digging their own graves.

-

They stayed on the small planet, in the giant forest for about a month, and in the beginning, they held their respectable distance from the Dark Fey. 

They got invited to meals and attended them, but only Y/N, Neela, and the translator, who turned out to be a teacher and one of the only Fey who had left the planet before, really talked to them. 

If the children were excluded. 

They had a great time with Ahsoka, and she played with them and even found some friends in her age group, who were studying under Danosh, the translator. Thanks to him, most of the children could speak a few words in Basic, allowing Ahsoka to communicate with them.

Aster had instructed the tribe members to treat them with respect and give them everything they needed, but his hospitality ended there. 

He did not include them in any kind of activities the tribe performed besides the meals. 

The Dark Fey were a close-knitted species, and the tribe of Y/N did almost everything together. They ate together, hunted together, played together, and even slept together. 

They seemed very suspicious of strangers - at least the adults - and they mostly kept to themselves, only talking to the Jedi if necessary.

While Ahsoka got mostly occupied with the children, Anakin's attention got caught by Neela, with whom he even traveled to one of the Fey's sacred places for the Chosen. 

Obi-Wan got mostly accompanied by Y/N, but he did not mind that at all. 

He enjoyed the other's presence, and his open-hearted character and he talked with the man about all kinds of things. 

He told him stories about the Jedi, the beauty of the Jedi gardens on Coruscant, the vast ice tundras of Ilum, and the force. 

On the other hand, Y/N taught him about the Fey culture, the significance of one's first flight, the meaning of life according to the elders. 

He told Obi-Wan the story of the Batellia flower, that would soon bloom at a day the tribe celebrated. 

"The flower blooms for a very short time and then it dies, its roots forming a bond with another plant." 

Obi-Wan had asked the Fey why they celebrated that day then. 

"Batellia portrays the honest truth of our lives. We live, we die and then we join the Ancestors and the Phoenix Mother." 

Y/N also told the Jedi about the worst punishment a Fey could receive - losing one's wings, and the importance of death in their culture. 

But one thing he did not talk about because he thought Obi-Wan knew. 

For him, it was obvious; Something even the wingless humans should know about, but well... 

Maybe the Jedi were just too dumb.

-

"What's that?" asked Anakin, pointing at the shimmering blue stone on Obi-Wan's nightstand while drying his hair. 

He looked at the stone he was pointing at. 

"It's a present from Y/N. It's a "Soulstone" according to him. It glows in the dark." 

He smiled faintly, remembering when Y/N gave it to him. 

It's already been three weeks since they had stranded on the small planet, and the Fey had found them. And he and the chief’’s son had formed a close bond. 

They had traveled twice to their spaceship, Obi-Wan showing it to him and explaining the mechanisms while Y/N watched from a safe distance, seemingly too scared to approach the metal beast.

Y/N also accompanied him to highest tree they had, trying to send another SOS signal. He caught him, when he almost slipped and Obi-Wan clung to him like dear life, because they were so high up. 

The Fey had only laughed, his eyes glimmering with something Obi-Wan couldn’t quite place.

His former padawan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"And the one next to it? Also a present?" 

"All of them are presents, Anakin", said Ahsoka, who had suddenly appeared and now strut to her backpack, a new load of her favorite fruits in her arms. 

"What about me? I want a present from Y/N too." 

The Togruta eyed him strangely, then muttered something to herself and grinned. 

"They are just things he had found on his regular trips to the river," Obi-Wan said, trying to calm Anakin. 

Although he also questioned why he seemingly was the only one who regularly received gifts from Y/N. 

On the other hand, he felt a tingling sensation in his chest, somewhat proud that the Fey apparently viewed him as special.

"Did Neela not give you a present?" 

Anakin shook his head but then replied: "I don't really care, the things I've learned on our trips to their temples are more than enough. Did you know that the Chosen use the power of their emotions to strengthen their force abilities? They aren't unleashing them like the Sith, apparently, but I don't really understand the difference yet. Neela will tell me more tomorrow. She's busy with the preparations of today's feast." 

Anakin's voice was full of excitement while he talked, and Obi-Wan got reminded of his early padawan days when the boy had commented on every little thing with amazement. 

"What's different this time?" he asked, Ahsoka watching the both of them silently, her fruits now stored in her backpack for tomorrow when she would go on a trip with one of the Fey at her age. 

"They will perform dances after eating. It's going to be quite a spectacle, according to Neela. She wanted us to stay and witness it." 

Obi-Wan furrowed his brows, sitting up from his lying position in his hammock. 

"Is that really such a good idea? Aster still doesn't seem too keen on having us around." 

Anakin shook his head and pointed at him. 

"No, we must come. Especially you, the chief actually requested it." 

The Jedi's eyes widened. 

Aster personally demanded that he attended? Why? 

Obi-Wan wasn't delighted to see the dances after hearing that, and he went to the daily feast with a queasy gut feeling. 

-

The meal went like normal. 

The Fey sat in groups in the big hall, various bowls with different dishes on the ground, some of them vegetarian, some with fish, others with meat. 

The ages were mixed, and Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Anakin got accompanied by several small Fey who had played with the Togruta before. 

Normally, Y/N and Neela would be in their circle too, but this evening they were nowhere to be seen. 

"Probably still preparing", said Ahsoka, and Anakin nodded with a full mouth. 

They both anticipated the dances, while he was the only one who somehow couldn't. 

He just worried why Aster would want him to be there. 

Not having Y/N around made it worse. The man had acted as a calming presence in the last few weeks, and Obi-Wan had begun to like him a lot. 

The Fey was thirsty for knowledge, kind, and also understanding. He liked to listen and Obi-Wan always felt some sort of proudness, when he could guess Y/N’s thoughts or feelings correctly from the way his wings and feathers moved.

The Fey seemed to shine like a light, he was very popular with the others of his species, especially the female ones, and it was obvious that he would be the next chief. 

Although, he wasn't Neela's son. 

His mother, Aster's first wife, had died a long time ago, and his father had remarried. Neela gave birth to two other sons, but they both did not want to follow in their father's footsteps. 

Y/N didn't dislike his father for remarrying, he loved Neela like his own mother, and she loved him like he was her own son. 

Obi-Wan admired their strong bonds and Y/N's personality. 

He was comfortable around the other man, so comfortable that he had confessed the secret feelings he had harbored for Satine Kryze. 

Y/N had listened silently and then patted his shoulder to comfort him. He didn't say a word of judgment, silence was the only thing they shared at that moment, but Obi-Wan felt so much better after telling him. 

Everything went well, and although they had been here for three weeks and he knew that Cody and the High Council were probably dying from worry, he felt relaxed and content. 

When he swayed in his hammock in the evening, the stars visible through the carved out window at the ceiling, his hand holding the “Phoenix’s heart” - another stone Y/N had brought him that was always warm - he even dared to think that he wouldn't mind staying with the tribe forever. 

But now... 

Now the peacefulness seemed to be in danger. 

Obi-Wan barely ate anything, and when Aster finally stood up, the Jedi couldn't stop his whole body from tensing up. 

"Let us go to the Ancestors Realm!" the tribe chief shouted, and the present Fey joined in a cry of joy. 

"Come on!" squeaked one of the children and grabbed Anakin's arm. 

Another clung to Obi-Wan, and the young Fey pulled the three Jedi towards the hall entrance with surprising strength. 

The Ancestors Realm was a place at the crown of the giant tree. They had to use nine hoists so get up there and when they arrived, the air was considerably thinner. 

It was a flat plateau out of red lichen, the tufts at the border of the round area were glowing, and it did look like from another realm. In the middle of the plateau burned a bright fire, illuminating the faces of the arriving people.

The Fey sat at the edges, Ahsoka went to the new friends she had made, and Obi-Wan and Anakin joined Aster and Neela, the latter had shown up out of nowhere. 

The tribe chief greeted them with a smile, which surprised both of them, and he motioned for Obi-Wan to sit next to him. He hesitated for a second, but when the chief looked at him with true friendliness in his eyes he gave in.

The Jedi carefully sat next to Aster, avoiding the man's wings, which he had leisurely spread behind him, and then crossed his legs.

"Are you ready?" asked the leader, and Obi-Wan smiled weakly. 

"Yes...?" his answer sounded more like a question, and the man next to him laughed. 

"You'll like it, I'm sure." 

He could only nod, a big lump in his throat. 

He knew that Aster was watching him intently from the side, but he had no clue why. 

But before he could ponder over it, one of the elder Fey began to hum, and the rest of the Fey immediately joined. 

It was a tribal melody, and it resounded deep in Obi-Wan's chest. Aster started clapping in a rhythm, and the male Fey followed his lead, while Neela clapped another beat, and the women did the same. 

The humming was accompanied by the beating of a drum and a sudden cry caused the female Fey to shout. 

It was strange for the Jedi, but all three of them were mesmerized by the following scene. 

The shouts were a signal for the dancers, and seemingly out of nowhere appeared the few missing Fey. Among them was also Y/N, who Obi-Wan could only recognize because of his wings. 

The dancers were a group of males who wore masks that covered their entire faces, their bodies decorated with glowing paint. 

They flew a circle above the sitting Fey, and their wings spread, causing loose feathers to descend. 

Obi-Wan caught one, and it only took him a glance to know to whom it belonged.

Aster flashed a grin at him and motioned him to clap too. 

He put the feather carefully in his robe, worried that he damaged it, and then joined the clapping, feeling excited from the display of the dancers. 

They twisted and turned with surprising speed and elegance, and when they landed, the actual dance began, and the sound of various music instruments echoed in the tree crown. 

The young men all randomly picked a person in the crowd and started to perform in front of them. 

Their wings were the main attraction of the dance. They spread them and flapped, showing off their brilliant colors. 

Obi-Wan watched in amazement, not realizing that a certain person was staring at him intently. 

A light shove from Aster startled him, and he noticed the person who had gotten closer to him. 

Y/N's eyes glistened from behind the mask, and the glowing blue body paint gave him the appearance of an ethereal being. 

He twirled and then hid his lower face with his left wing. His e/c eyes pulling Obi-Wan's attention towards Y/N like magic. The Jedi felt like he was in a trance. 

The Fey looked beautiful, but at the same time powerful, his sturdy muscles visible thanks to the fire. 

A flame began to burn in his heart and it reminded him of something, however, he couldn’t figure out what. 

The feathers shook when the music quickened, and the Fey jumped from one foot to the other, his heels never touching the ground. 

The Jedi followed the man's every move, too enthralled to notice how Aster and Neela were staring at him with pleased smiles. 

Anakin looked at them with a wondering expression, not knowing what they were thinking. 

Obi-Wan's mind got filled with a thousand thoughts. His heartbeat had quickened, and the sudden wish of taking a holographic photo of Y/N dancing surged through his veins. 

He didn't expect the man to be able to move like this, like an elegant warrior. 

It was a traditional dance, the other men of the group performed the same routine, but Y/N's was somehow special. 

It felt sensual and, at the same time, like a plead. 

The man's wings stretched towards Obi-Wan. Had he leaned a little forward, his nose could have touched a feather. 

The music turned to a crescendo, and he knew the dance would be over soon, already a little disappointed. 

With a sudden move back, Y/N spread his arms, that had also reached out for the Jedi, to the side and his wings darted back and froze in a position similar to the Jedi order's symbol. 

The ending was improvised by him, the wings of the other dancers had stopped in a different pose. Obi-Wan’s heart jumped and he let out a shaky breath.

The  Fey for whom the other dancers had danced began to stand up and clap and howl wildly, their ardor audible in their voices, and Anakin and Obi-Wan joined in. 

The dancers walked up to the audience members they had chosen and they pressed their foreheads together. Obi-Wan watched their display of affection with a big smile. He loved the kindness the Fey held for each other. 

The tribe leader couple also stood up, he following their lead, when Aster suddenly pulled him closer with an arm around his neck, and the tribe chief asked him: 

"Did you like it?" 

And Obi-Wan could only exclaim with an excited tone: 

"Yes! It was wonderful!"

Y/N's father showed a very pleased expression and then let go of him. 

The Jedi wondered for a moment if that was the only thing he wanted to know, but his attention shifted when a glowing figure appeared in his peripheral vision. 

"Obi-Wan" uttered Y/N, while taking his mask off, his breathing was slightly heavy. 

"Y/N, you were amazing! The dance displayed so many emotions, I loved it!" 

The Fey stopped short in his track, and then his lips formed a breathtaking smile, which reminded him of the sunrise in the morning. 

"Thank you!" 

Obi-Wan's head got suddenly grabbed by the other man, and their foreheads touched in a swift motion. 

Y/N's skin felt hot from the dancing, and the Fey's breathing shook his shoulders, but Obi-Wan was solely focusing on the man's closed eyes. 

Their position felt almost too intimate, his heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears, but he did not move back, ignoring the sudden flutter in his chest, telling himself this was courtesy and showing his respect for Y/N. 

He expected the other to pull his head back, but the Fey did not move, until his father patted his shoulder and laughingly boomed: 

"That's enough, son. You'll have plenty of time for that later."  

Y/N finally pulled back, although not stepping far away, and he turned to his father, shooting him a glare. Obi-Wan stood somewhat dazed, blinking wildly, and wondering what Aster meant with later.

"I'm proud of you, Y/N!" said Neela, and she hugged the man. 

The Jedi smiled at the display of their feelings, and he distanced himself to give them some space and to calm his beating heart. 

Get it together. Your heart is acting as if you’re in love.

He turned to Anakin, who talked to Ahsoka, both their expressions still showing amazement. 

"That was soo cool!" squealed the Togruta, and his former padawan agreed. 

"I now feel the desire to have wings too," added Obi-Wan to the conversation, and they turned around to greet him. 

Ahsoka's eyebrows shot up, and she grinned somewhat disbelievingly. 

"So, you did it," she said, a matter of factly. 

"I did what?" he asked, not understanding what she meant. 

She gestured towards his face, and he tilted his head in confusion. 

"You got paint on your forehead." Anakin said while watching his padawan with questioning eyes, but the Togruta didn't say what she was hinting at. 

And he didn't find out until the end of the evening. 

After he had talked to the two other Jedi, Y/N had shown up again and told him that he had to attend a family meeting. 

He was apologetic, his expression showing clear annoyance and Obi-Wan felt bad for the Fey, although it wasn't such a big deal for him. 

They could talk about his performance tomorrow. 

So they said goodnight to each other, Y/N once again pressing his forehead to Obi-Wan's, who let it go without a word. 

Aster and Neela also left. 

They only waved at them, the tribe chief winking at Obi-Wan, leaving the Jedi once again puzzled about why the man had changed his behavior so suddenly.

Although the Fey poured out some delicious alcohol, the three Jedi decided to go back to their room. They were surprisingly tired from seeing the performance. 

When Obi-Wan had already laid down in his hammock, Ahsoka addressed him: 

"Congratulations, Master." 

He lifted his head to peek over the hammock's edge. 

"Congrats for what?" 

"You and Y/N." 

He didn't understand a word. 

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly worried. 

"Don't you know?" she said, now sitting up inside her hammock. 

He only blinked. Ahsoka's expression turned baffled. 

"The performance today got danced by courting Fey." 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, then his eyes widened. 

"Are you saying... Y-Y/N..?", he finally squeezed through his lips, realisation slowly dawning on him. 

She mirrored his shocked expression. 

"You didn't know?! But you accepted!" 

He was panicking now. 

"Accepted what and when?!" 

Anakin walked into the room, unaware of the sudden revelation. 

"What's going o-" 

"The forehead touch!" 

Obi-Wan sank back into his hammock, his heartbeat thundering in his ear. He had gotten a confession and he didn’t even realize.

"Oh, what have I done?"

-

The next morning, Obi-Wan felt no motivation to stand up. 

He wasn't ready to clear up the misunderstanding that had happened yesterday.

 He hadn't known that the dance was about courtship, nor that the forehead was something only romantically involved Fey would do. 

He just thought it was something intimate that friends, partners, and family did. The other dancers had done it too, but now he knew the real reason. 

That’s why not all of them touched foreheads, they got rejected! 

But apparently, he was wrong. 

And now he had to take the consequences. 

"Come on, old man. Get up", said Anakin with a laugh, and he made his former master's hammock sway. 

"Why can't I just die right now of old age?" he sighed, feeling dreadful about what was about to come. 

Anakin snorted, and he finally sat up. 

He had to talk to Y/N before the whole thing escalated. 

But oooh, it already had.

-

"How did you not realize?!" shouted Y/N. 

The Fey was shaking Obi-Wan by the shoulder. 

"How should’ve I known?!" he shot back, now also agitated, after the other had told him his parents practically considered them being already married. 

"I brought you all these presents!" 

"Friends do that from where I come from!" 

"You kept my feather!" 

"I thought it would be a great memento!" 

"I let you touch my wings!!" 

"How should I know that's considered to be something intimate?!" 

Their voices got louder and louder, and their argument caught the attention of some unwanted spectators. 

A group of young Fey had begun to follow their conversation behind some branches, but Obi-Wan didn’t acknowledge them, too angry and panicked at the moment.

Y/N's wings had begun to flip in obvious anger, while Obi-Wan furrowed his brows in annoyance. 

"I literally danced for you at the courtship ceremony!" 

Obi-Wan gnashed his teeth in frustration. 

"How was I supposed to know it was about that?! Anakin only told me it was a dance performance!!" 

"But you-you said I danced amazing and you loved it!” 

The Jedi didn’t respond to that, only showing a guilty expression.

The Fey bit his lips when he finally realized how grave their misunderstanding was. 

"I didn't know...", muttered Obi-Wan, feeling helpless because he knew he had hurt the other. 

"Forget it," growled Y/N, then he turned in a swift motion and darted from the tree branch. His wings flapped with such a force that a few feathers fell. 

The Jedi only watched how they slowly descended, and they seemed to represent his heart. 

It sunk, and a sudden pain in his chest caused him to clench his jaw. 

How should I have known?

He told himself that he had had no idea, but deep in his chest whispered a voice that he did. Y/N’s feelings were obvious.

Maybe he just didn’t want to acknowledge them, knowing that nothing could come out of their relationship. 

Even if you do like me, Y/N, we can’t be together. 

-

A few days passed, and the atmosphere had turned awkward. 

Aster's sudden goodwill had as quickly disappeared as it had come. 

After the chief had learned of the misunderstanding, he had almost attacked Obi-Wan. Neela held him back successfully though. 

Anakin felt guilty for being partly at fault, and Ahsoka also apologized for not telling him what she had known about the courtship rules. 

They spent their days waiting for any kind of sign of the Republic, and they became restless. 

Obi-Wan felt genuinely guilty for misleading Y/N, and he grieved for their friendship, which seemed like it had already ended. 

The Fey hadn't shown himself to any of the Jedi, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but worry because neither Neela nor Aster had seen their son after he and the Jedi had argued. 

Then, one day, a Fey appeared in the great hall, informing Aster of the gigantic triangle that had appeared in the sky and the small flying objects that had landed somewhere close to the forest's border. 

Anakin shouted triumphantly, and Obi-Wan felt relief wash over him. 

But at the same time, he felt a pang in his chest. 

He didn't want to leave, not before he cleared the bad blood between him and Y/N. 

But Cody and Captain Rex found a scout of the tribe pretty soon, and they finally reunited only a week after the courtship ceremony. 

"Good to see you alive and well, general," said Cody, and Obi-Wan smiled weakly at him. 

"Good to see you too, commander." 

The clones got accompanied by Plo Koon, and Ahsoka was delighted to see the Jedi master again. 

While Anakin and his padawan were happy about their rescue, Obi-Wan couldn't stop himself from wishing they had come later. Now he wouldn’t get another chance to talk with Y/N.

He collected his belongings and hesitated when it came to Y/N's presents. The various crystals and shells on his nightstand. 

He contemplated whether to take them with him or not, but the thought of leaving them behind hurt him and he decided to bring them home. 

Although they had parted with sour feelings, he still appreciated the memories he had made with Y/N. And his heart honestly didn’t want to forget anything, not even the forehead, which apparently symbolized a kiss. 

They Fey did not publicly kiss, one of the things they didn’t display to others, Ahsoka had told him. 

When he heard about that, he couldn’t stop his brain from forming all kinds of thoughts and his ears had turned pink. 

He walked up to me and kissed me, figuratively!

The misunderstanding was really a disaster. 

He now also knew why the other Fey had treated him with more respect even though Aster seemed to hate him again. 

It was because he was the object of the future tribe leader’s affections - although he had rejected him.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and left the room, Y/N’s presents stored in his backpack.

He bid farewell to Danosh and the other Fey who had treated him nicely and then joined Anakin and Ahsoka who waited with Cody, Captain Rex and some other clones next to Aster and Neela.  

The tribe leader couple accompanied them to the ground and their canon gun ships. 

Obi-Wan watched the ships from the border of the gigantic forest and his chest tightened. 

Y/N... 

He bit his lip, his heart now clenching from the idea of leaving and never coming back. 

They were half way there, when Aster and Neela stopped walking.

“We’re not going any further”, explained the white-haired woman and Anakin sighed. He said goodbye first. The chief only nodded at him, but Neela gave him a long hug and whispered something into his ear, while caressing his hair.

Obi-Wan could see that the woman somewhat appeared to be like a mother-figure for Anakin. He felt the pain of saying goodbye in Anakin’s force presence. 

Ahsoka also gave Neela a hug and she bowed at Aster who surprisingly patted her shoulder and said: 

“Stay sharp, little one.” 

The Togruta beamed and then it was Obi-Wan’s turn. He looked at the chief and behind the animosity in his eyes, he could see genuine regret. 

He didn’t know what to say and just awkwardly stood there, when Aster coughed and grumbled: 

“You would’ve been a splendid son-in-law.” 

The Jedi blinked and Anakin couldn’t stop a snort, laughing silently at the blush that swept across his former master’s cheeks. 

“Uh- thank you.”

“Obi-Wan,” said Neela and she opened her arms wide. He willingly walked into her embrace and she also caressed his hair, while hiding his embarrassment with her wings. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. If he couldn’t tell it Y/N personally, he would tell his mother.

“It’s alright. Y/N is a little hasty sometimes, especially when it comes to his feelings. I’m not trying to say he rushed into the idea of liking you...”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks heated up again, not knowing how to react when a woman, who was the mother of the man who liked him, openly talked about her son’s and his relationship.

“He’s genuine, but stubborn. He was born here and never set foot on another planet. You swept him off his feet and he got too excited, not registering that our manners and traditions are unknown to you.” 

He nodded into her shoulders and she let him go to look into his face. Her blue eyes glimmered with kindness.

“I’m glad you were his first love.”

He blinked and her sentence hit him right in the gut. Oh, wow, he really hurt the man, huh.

She traced the line his knitted eyebrows made and smiled.

“It’s not your fault, Obi-Wan.”

He wanted to reply something but he had a lump in his throat and could only nod.

She let go of him and he stepped back, his expression showing how sad he was about their departure. 

“Goodbye.”

The Jedi and clones turned and began to walk away. Every step physically hurt Obi-Wan and he breathed out shakily, face looking down to not see Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s possibly judging expressions. 

Suddenly, a shadow sped across the plain and before he could look up, a person landed right before his feet, causing him to make a step back. 

He tilted his head, startled, his eyes meeting e/c ones. Time seemed to stop.

"Obi-Wan," breathed Y/N and the Jedi's heart started to pound faster. 

"You came," he hesitantly said, his tone revealed his relief. 

"Yeah... I have to tell you something." 

Obi-Wan turned his head to Anakin and the others, they feigned ignorance and acted as if they weren't listening closely to their conversation, although they were. 

"O-Okay, but I want to tell you something t-"

"I fancy you."

Hearing that sentence directed at him caught Obi-Wan off guard. 

Not that he never had been confronted by similar words, but it had never been in such a blunt fashion. And also not from a person he secretly liked too. Satine had been a different case. 

A blush crept up his neck, cheeks and ears and he swallowed hard. 

He had expected Y/N to tell him an apology or a goodbye, but not a love confession. 

"I'm sorry. I projected my culture onto you and didn't consider your feelings." 

Obi-Wan was flustered and he checked his surroundings again, the clones and the two Jedi now blatantly listening without even trying to hide their interest. 

"I-I..." he began, not knowing what to say. 

He knew he had to reject the Fey but his fluttering heart absolutely didn't want him to. 

"I'm a Jedi, Y/N," he eventually said, his tone sounding pained, and Obi-Wan expected the other man's face to sadden, after all, he did tell him what that meant when it came to attachments, but the Fey's smile stayed on his lips. 

"I know. I just wanted to tell you properly." 

The smile was the same radiating one he had flashed him after the courtship dance. 

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, contemplated for a second and then, without hesitation, he took a step forward and grabbed Y/N's face to bring their heads together. 

Their foreheads touched and the man's eyes widened. 

Obi-Wan locked his gaze with his and the Fey sighed, now pressing his head closer and putting his hand on both side’s of his neck.. 

"You're making this very hard," he muttered accusingly, while tracing Obi-Wan’s carotid artery. 

The Jedi laughed weakly, the pain in his chest swelling. 

"I know, I'm sorry." 

He closed his eyes and breathed in, the smell of damp soil, fruits and leather filled his nose and Obi-Wan tried to engrave the scent in his mind. 

"At one point we'll have to stop," whispered Y/N and he grumbled. 

"I'm just soaking you in", he replied, eyes still closed. 

I don’t want to let go. 

He heard the Fey breath out slowly. 

Then the man moved away. 

Obi-Wan opened his eyes in protest, then his hand got grabbed, and Y/N kissed him. 

The Jedi's eyes widened and he remembered that Anakin, Ahsoka and the clones were watching, but his reason got thrown out of the window by his heart and he returned the kiss. 

It was a short and bittersweet one. Just like their relationship. 

Like the Batellia flower, their love finished before it could even properly bloom. 

But Obi-Wan did not look back at these four weeks with regret. 

After he had returned to Coruscant and continued fighting in the war, he would often smile at random times, his hands buried in his robes, where he caressed a soft feather. 

And he could be damn sure that on a small planet in the Outer Rims, a Fey would trace the faint glow of a blue kyber crystal, he always had with him around his neck.

And who knows, maybe they’ll meet again.

[theshelbyclan]

Mae

Summary: I am Emma, the invisible sister of Danny Whizz-Bang: the ordinary man who passionately believed I was extraordinary

A/N: Anon requested: I’ll star saying this :I love your writing! , so I had an idea for an original character, like imagine if Danny Whizbang had a younger sister (around thirteen years old) who is always been near to the shelbys and it's really close to them all, after her brother comes back from the war she steps up to take care of him but she is not really succesful at it, when her brother dies she is absolutely broken hearted and tommy takes her under his wing. This could be an imagine or a longer fic btw.:) I love this request sooo much, thank you for this wonderful and original idea! I kinda got creative with this character, hope you don’t mind ;)

Words: 2586

***

My name is Emma, but I go by Mae. My mum likes to tell the story of my birth and how Danny was sitting in the hallway with dad, both smoking frantically. Mum had already had a few children, but I was her last one, the unexpected one. When I was born, Danny rushed in and demanded to hold me. When he asked mum what my name was, she told him, “Emma.” But Danny shook his head and said, “No, she looks more like a Mae.” So, I go by Mae. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Danny used to call me. I’d sit on his shoulders and he could walk for hours, until you could no longer hear the factories or smell the smoke. He’d show me the grass and the trees and used to say, “See? The world is bigger than you could ever imagine!”

I cried when he went off to war. He tried to make me feel better by telling me that he was simply traveling the world. “Are you going on one of our walks again?” I asked, full of childhood innocence. “A bit further than that, sweetheart,” he said. “All the way, outside of Birmingham?” “Yes, I’m crossing the ocean. And when I come back, I’ll tell you all about it.” And with a kiss, he left.

But he was different when he came back. He tried to act like the brother I knew, always softly spoken en as gentle as a giant can be, but when he was on his own, he often changed. The war had damaged him beyond repair and even though I tried to bandage the internal wounds as much as I could, he remained emotionally unstable. So I started following him around and whenever he went mad, I was at his side, when I could. Suddenly, Danny Whizz-Bang had a shadow and everybody knew it. It was almost like it’d had been before the war: my favourite brother and I, inseparable. But still, he was different when he came back.

*** One day, I followed him after school, because he wasn’t acting like the Danny I knew and loved. I lost him halfway so I went into the Garrison, thinking he might go there next. As I walked in, I saw Mr. Shelby sitting at the bar, so I faltered a little.

He looked up and noticed me. “Hello, Emma,” he said in that husky voice of his, “How’s your mother?” “Very well, Mr, Shelby,” I replied meekly, even though she wasn’t, “Thank you for asking, sir.” He took another sip of his whiskey, “No need to call me ‘sir’, Emma.” “Sorry, Mr. Shelby,” I replied, without noticing the discrepancy. The Shelby’s were like royalty around here and every child grew up learning they were to be feared and respected at all times. I’d known Tommy since I was little, but I wouldn’t dare to call him ‘Tommy’.

“And where’s your brother?” he inquired in a low voice. I was scared that he could sense the worry in my voice, so I feigned fear and let my shoulders drop. Pretending I was even younger than I was, I mumbled, “I thought he might be here.” And then Thomas Shelby turned and looked me right in the eye. Shivers went down my back and I turned away involuntarily. I couldn’t have been more grateful when another man stepped up from a table and walked over to Tommy to talk to him, freeing me from all inquisitive looks. Slowly, he lit another cigarette and tried his best to ignore the man who was talking to him, but I could see the interest in his eyes. He was like a horse, with ears suddenly standing up. I love horses. Meanwhile, I’d disappeared into the shadows of the Garrison. I was good at that: disappearing. See, I’d realised that girls of my age have that talent. We are still cute, if we want to be. Not quite adorable anymore, but sweet and innocent we can still be, to others. Luckily, I wasn’t pretty, or I’d lose my advantage of invisibility. But we see everything. People think we’re just children but our minds are beyond that stage already, so we observe. The secret is this: we are not yet women, but no longer little girls either. The strange result is that we are invisible to adults, because we fit in neither category. We pass around unnoticed.

Suddenly, my brother came crashing through the doors. He was having one of is episodes again and I rushed out of my hiding place towards him, only to be thrown backwards into the chaos. Tommy and the other man reached Danny first and even though they didn’t seem to like each other before, they worked as one now. With a few exchanged glances, they both knew what to do and they tackled my brother to the floor swiftly, while offering him calm words.

Danny didn’t stop screaming and I became numb from the pain I felt for him. I would share it all, if I could, but there was nothing I could do. When silence followed, Danny quickly apologized to Tommy, cap in hand, muttering the words I had spoken moment before: “Sorry, Mr. Shelby…” I ran after my brother when he left again and took his hand in mine. That always seemed to help. No one else had noticed my presence at the scene, though I could feel a pair of eyes burning in my back when we left. ***

I come from a large family. I had more brothers than I could count and there wee always too many mouths to feed at home. Most of them worked at the factories. They were just ordinary men, living ordinary lives. But Danny had always been my favourite. He wasn’t anything special, but he asked after me every day, even when he got back from France. I never talked much, not in school and never in the streets, but I did speak at home. But me and Danny, we actually talked. Also, he had kind eyes, like my mother has.

I wasn’t there when he stabbed the Italian. I’d been in school because I’d been the first one in my family to go and so I went, every day. I remember that one day, Tommy came into our house. Danny, another brother and I sat hunched over a book. Tommy asked my mother, “Are they teaching your girl how to read?” Mum had laughed a little, “I think she’s teaching them to be honest.” And so I went to school, because Danny told me I was the brains of the family and that was all the encouragement I needed. Meanwhile, my brother unwittingly killed a man with criminal ties, and so Danny’s death was demanded in retaliation.

When I heard, I rushed out of the school building and sprinted through the streets of Small Heath. Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind. “Shhh,” someone whispered in my ear. But I struggled for my life and kicked the invisible assailant, because the only coherent thought in my head was Danny. “Let me go!” I said angrily. “Emma,” he pleaded, and only then did I recognised the voice, “It’s done. Your brother killed a man.” I turned around to face Thomas Shelby and I spoke more words than I’d ever had to him, “He didn’t kill a man. After the war, Danny was already dead.” “We all are,” he nodded. “Where is he?” I demanded. “Safe.” I narrowed my eyes, “And for how long will he remain safe?” Tommy cleared his throat and looked away. All the shyness had fallen from me, “Tell me. I’m not a little girl anymore.” “The Italians deal with death by death. Either they kill Danny in the cruellest way imaginable, or I do it. Quickly.” “You’re going to shoot Danny,” I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t see. “Emma. Look at me, eh?” he crouched down to my level and forced me to meet his eye, “I will find a way. Do you hear me? I will find a way. Trust me, eh?” I didn’t. So for the first time in my life, I reacted on impulse alone and lunged forward. In a flash, I had grabbed the gun from his waist, knowing where he carried it on him. Then I pointed it at the Peaky Blinder in front of me. “Emma…” he sighed, “Don’t make this difficult.” “Difficult for you?” I grunt out through clenched teeth. There was another thing I had noticed about Tommy. When he was stuck or found himself in a position of disadvantage, he changed the subject. He reacted to absurd situations with even more absurd questions or suggestions. This was how remained in control, by catching the other off-guard. And he was trying it right now, “How did you know I carried a gun, right here?” he pointed at the spot on his suit. “I pay attention,” I merely commented, not taking my eyes off of him or the gun. Tommy nodded slowly and stated matter-of-factly, “Give it back to me. If you shoot me, I can’t help Danny.” Something inside me knew he was right, so involuntarily, I lowered the gun a little.

He held up a hand in a surprisingly comforting manner, “You need to let me help Danny, eh? Those fucking Italians are brutal. You can’t get in my way. Stay here. Emma, promise me: stay here.” Completely numb, I nodded. I had no idea why I trusted this man all of a sudden, but I did. Maybe because I grew up with the Shelby’s, the worst family imaginable, but at least we knew them. “Good girl,” he said softly, “When I come back, I will need your help. Just stay here, alright?” And then he vanished. Minutes felt like hours and I couldn’t bear waiting. Silently, I retreated into an alleyway and slid down the wall. There, I hid my face in my arms, which were resting on my knees and just sobbed. I couldn’t lose Danny. After everything that had happened, the brothers I had already lost in the war, I needed him. He came back from France and everything went fucking sideways, but he came back. I needed him to stay. When I heard the gunshot, my heart dropped. The world stood still and my ears were ringing. It was done. Slowly, I got up and walked. Where to, I had no idea. I no longer noticed the people around me and it felt like I was stuck in a glass container, separated from the rest of the people. Apparently, I had walked for hours and when my mind came back to me, I saw trees. I felt exhausted suddenly and let myself fall down in the grass. Within minutes, I was asleep. *** Danny Owens: the man who died twice. I had done my grieving already, outside of Birmingham, under the trees, in the grass. The second time hurt less, or did it? At least it didn’t shock me as much as it did the first time. He was the toughest man I know, because fighting yourself is so much harder than fighting any enemy. I would forever remember him as the kindest, bravest and best man I ever knew. The ordinary man, as he used to say, who told me every day that I was extraordinary. He deserved better. In those months, I never saw Tommy again. He was busy fighting a war with London, the communists and the rest of the world. But still, I trusted he had done all he could for my brother. After everything that had happened, I felt like I finally knew the man behind the peaked cap a little. But then, suddenly, he showed up at our house. “Emma,” he greeted, his eyes soft, “I won’t ask you how are, but I want you to know I tried…” I quickly cut him off, “I know.” His gaze turned glazed all of a sudden and I knew he was thinking of France. Danny used to have that same look about him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Shelby?” I asked politely. And back he was, “I told you the day Danny went off to London that I needed your help.” I frowned, “Why me? How could I be of use?” “You’re special, Emma,” he emphasised. “I’m just an ordinary girl,” I responded, in surprise. Tommy smiled a little, “That day, you said two things to me,” he paused a little and met my eyes, “Two things I remember clearly. One: you told me you weren’t a little girl anymore. And two: you told me you pay attention.” I kept silent and waited for what came next. Truthfully, I felt a little called out by his words. “I’ve noticed you, Emma,” he continued, lighting a cigarette at the same time. “No one notices me,” I said quickly. Again, he smiled. I’d never seen him smile, but this was the second time in mere minutes, “Exactly. You are invisible and you know how to use it. Danny always said his little sister was the smartest little girl he ever saw, and I now believe he was right. Behind that timid façade of a little girl, you observe, analyse and see everything.” He paused for a moment, “Tell me, Emma, what is it that we Shelby’s do?” I cast my eyes down and answered vaguely, “You run Birmingham, sir, everyone knows that.” “Don’t be afraid,” he said in a low voice, “And stop pretending. You know exactly what we do.” So I spoke frankly, “Yes.” Suddenly, Tommy stood up and walked over to the other side of our small room, “I will make sure you can go to school, for as long as you want to. If you want to go to another school, you will. If you want to go to university, you will walk into that university with your head held high. I will make it happen, alright?” I blinked a few timed rapidly. “I want to ask you for a favour in return,” he continued in his business-like tone, “Keep an eye out for me on the streets. If you hear anything that might be of interest to us, tell me. You’re clever; you know what we would like to know. It’s not a condition; I will take care of your education no matter what, so you’re not obligated to do as I ask. That much I owe to Danny. I’m just asking for your help.”

I shrugged and my pigtails flipped into the air with the gesture, “I’m honoured, but…”

He pointed at me, with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s good: the innocent act, but with the cynical thoughts behind it. No need to try it on me though,” he cut me off.

“Alright,” I let the façade slip for a moment and held out a hand, “I’ll do it. But I do have a condition.”

“What’s that?” he asked, walking towards me.

I narrowed my eyes, “Don’t ever treat me like a child that needs protecting. I need a friend, but no replacement for my brother.”

Tommy shook my hand carefully, “I’ll be your friend then, eh?”

“Yes.”

“Come to me when you need anything,” he said softly, almost lovingly, “Even if you just need some company. I’ll look out for you, Emma.”

And for the first time, I smiled at him, as I contradicted him:

“I go by Mae.” *** Masterlist

[biot08]

Preaching to the choir

*long, long before the events of the ARR, before her adventuring career:*

Rayford Portier was reaching the end of recounting the things that he wished to bring to Ser Vauban’s attention regarding the current state of everything he had felt affected the little fort in Coerthas. There was much; despite the lack of importance of the family’s name, the fort was still a critical outpost in the Dragonsong war, and the patrol routes that left it regularly covered a large area. He had mentioned the need for certain supplies, had brought in letters that would need to be distributed, and the skywatcher’s early reports for the upcoming season. But at last, he found he could finally no longer avoid the news he was not looking forward to relaying. “…and, ah, your father sends word of one last bit of business.”

He did not continue talking. Zoissette had spent much of the meeting busying herself with the watch schedule, her pen scribbling names into slots. She was paying attention, and the break in the flow of Rayford’s speech did not go unnoticed. Her writing slowed as she finished writing one last name for now, and she gently stuck the feathers of her quill into her mouth before slowly looking up with a head tilt. Rayford simply fixed her with a steady gaze. She reached over, and placed the pen back into its ink pot, and she sat up.

“The Inquisition intends to make an appearance at the closing of the next moon.”

The two looked at each other. Zoissette drew a long breath in and then let it out slow. She leaned forward, and clasped her hands tightly together on the desk. She had been at the fort for a bit over five seasons. During that time, she had seen and participated in several skirmishes. She had taken care of her people as best as she was able with the meager budget a lesser house could spare. The fort was important enough to be manned, but not at all glamourous. It was sticks duty. There would be no chance for young up and comings to make their name out here, mostly rebuffing scouting parties. It was a duty that was tolerated as necessary, but not celebrated, and gaining the trust of the soldiers and support staff had required simply showing up and doing the work. No speeches. No lectures. No preaching. Just showing up, and showing that she was simply there to do the job. And certainly no delusions of power (she didn’t have), delusions of holiness (she didn’t feel), nor displays of extravagance (she wouldn’t waste precious resources on).

She could feel it all fraying and coming apart under the heavy hand of the Holy See.

When she spoke, she drew out her words, enunciating fully, as though care of word indicated holiness of intent. “Have they said what cause of heresy they suspect?”

“None, ser. They claim this to be a routine visit. It has been some time since they have come out this way. Apparently, to hear your father retell it, they merely think now to be an opportune time. The astrologians believe this to be a point of a longer lull than usual in the fighting. The Holy See wishes to make an appearance. Do a few interviews. Make sure all is well, and when they find that it is, take the opportunity to… remind the soldiers who they fight for, and what they fight against.”

Rayford’s tone was politely neutral. It always was. A skill he practiced as he lived. Zoissette was pretty sure his idea of raising his voice was inflecting his syllables differently.

“I… see. Well, I doubt they will find anything here,” Zoissette said. There was an unspoken ‘I hope’ there. She was new yet, but not stupid. Heretics, if they were present, would certainly go to pains to keep themselves hidden.

“May I be free with my words, ser?”

“Always, Rayford. Always and particularly now.”

“The men and women will need to be told, but you should be careful with how you handle them in the coming weeks. This will be a delicate time. Many of them have had run ins with the Inquisition over their lives. All of them will have seen the Inquistion’s work at a distance. The work may be necessary, but it is often brutal, and even the most innocent and pious sort of man may see a hollow shadow behind him in the mirror when he hears that the inquisitors will be calling.”

Zoissette buried her face in her hands. “I know.”

~~~

The Sergeant at Arms stood over the practice pit, watching lancers and archers coordinate their attacks on the training dummies at the far end of the area. He was an old hyur, with gray grizzled hair and a scar on half his face. He had lost an ear and his good looks to a dragon early in his career, and like as not would be at the fort supervising others rather than being out on patrol. He did not care for that, but his experience was valuable, and he had the rare enough knack of teaching.

Zoissette liked him. He tolerated her. She knew that, and appreciated it for what it was.

He was now frowning at the news. Zoissette often would just stop in long enough to do turnover with him and then be on her way without getting in his, but this time, she lingered, watching him mull over the news, and wanting to be present should he have something to say about it.

He looked over at her, expression dark, and lowered his voice.

“Do they suspect heresy here, madam?”

She hated being called madam, but she let him get away with it. Again. Good teacher. Rare knack. And he didn’t let the others do it, so a minor loss for a better gain.

“No. Routine visit, they say. Just want to conduct interviews and remind us of our duties.”

The man’s scowl deepened, and he pointed at a pair of trainees that had slowed their advance. Once they were startled back into action, he turned to Zoissette.

“Ill news. Almost be easier if they had announced they had found heretics and were performing their investigation. Then my soldiers would have focus. They would not trust each other for a bit, sure, but I can work with that. As it is, they will be jumping at every shadow, jumping over each other to ‘prove’ their piousness. Discipline’ll improve, sure. Moral, though? It’s going to plummet. The next month is going to be hell.”

Zoissette sighed, and nodded. “I know.”

The two continued to discuss the realities of the situation and how to try to work through it, and then both returned their attention to their respective duties.

~~~

Zoissette was in the fort’s library. The fort was small, but it did have its library, and a reasonable selection of books. She was hoping to find a treatise on pole arm tactics.

Instead, as she turned away from the shelves empty-handed, she found one of the maids standing there, eyes downcast and hands folded in front of her. The woman was obviously in distress.

Odd. Usually the house staff would go to Rayford if they needed something.

“Esmerelda?”

“Y-yes madam. Knight! Knight ser. Ser. Yes, yes ser,” the woman stammered.

“Hey hey hey. Deep breath in, let it out slow, you’re okay, we’re okay.”

“Yes. Of course, ser. Yes ser. Begging your pardon, ser…”

The woman’s voice trailed off, becoming small. Zoissette clasped her hands behind her, and gave the woman her full attention. She suspected.

She was right.

“Ser, do we… do we have heretics, here, ser?”

Zoissette shook her head. “Not that I know. Look, it’s… it’s just a routine visit. Nothing to worry about. They say they just-“

The woman swallowed, hard, and stared at the floor. Zoissette fell silent, to let the woman have space to speak.

“My… my apologies, ser. This is hard for me. I … I am a good and pious woman, ser. I know I have nothing to fear from the Inquisition, ser. I know it. I … I KNOW it, ser. But… I want you to know it too, ser.”

Zoissette inwardly had to admit, that usually Rayford was the bridge between her and the staff, much as the Sergeant at Arms was the bridge between her and the non-noble soldiers. But this woman was clearly in distress, and it fell to her to be present. Zoissette nodded, and put a hand on the maid’s shoulder.

“Of course. I have never had cause to suspect.”

“I… I apologize, ser.. I just… it’s just… I came to House Vauban because I could no longer stand to stay at my previous house, ser. They found… they found heretics among the staff, ser. They… they chose to make an example of them, ser.”

The woman took several deep breaths, steadying her nerves, and then all of a sudden, her expression went dead, and her body seemed to fold in on itself.

“They put them to the sword in the courtyard, ser. I thought several of them my friends, ser. They ended it quickly, thank the Fury for small mercies, but… I am no soldier, ser. I am just house staff. I had seen death before of course. We all have. But this was different. I did not handle it gracefully. In the days and moons afterward, I could not see the courtyard without seeing … them. So I left, ser. Your family was kind enough to take me on, ser. It can be hard for a commoner to find good work if they leave their priors like I did, but yours took me on, and I am grateful, but…”

The woman’s voice trailed off. Zoissette tried a smile she hoped was reassuring and squeezed the maid’s shoulder. The maid looked up at Zoissette’s hand, and reached her own up, to touch it.

“I know I am out of line, ser. And I know the Inquisition is necessary ser. But I cannot forget that day, ser. I am a good and pious woman, I promise ser. I just… I just need you to know that.”

“I know,” said Zoissette.

~~~

“We’ve got a problem,” said Ser Jervoix.

Vauban was a minor house, and the fort was not an important one, but sometimes the other minor houses would pass around their knights, both as a show of mutual support and a way to expand the experience of their officer corps. The fort was not a prestigious outpost, and the work was not exactly easy, but it still had to be done. And that was how Zoissette had come to have another visiting noble who helped her. She had only been there for a season, and would only stay for another. She had been surly at first, but had steadily grown used to the situation, and while she was not a friend, she was at least reasonable to work with. So while Zoissette handled matters closer to the fort, being the face of the family, Gilda Jervoix had been leading patrols and managing the remote camp.

That she had come back early said much. That her first sentence was that said more. Zoissette nodded and gestured to the table nearby. The two sat, and Zoissette poured them both a cup of the customary mulled wine.

“One of our men spooked at the news of the Inquisition coming,” said Gilda. “When he went, several others abandoned their posts also.”

Zoissette groaned. “Heretics after all?”

“I am sure the Inquisition will suspect so, but no. I don’t think so. I spoke with the men. It took some asking around, and a bribe or two, but I learned much. The man who first ran was in a village that had unknowingly harbored heretics. They were apparently sneaking into an abandoned house using a tunnel system of some sort.”

“I think I recall hearing this news from my father. It’s one of those inspiring stories they like to tell. The heretics were found out because they were stealing from the villagers under cover of night. When the villagers investigated, they stumbled upon the heretics’ stash, finding both their stolen items and some draconic artifacts. Rather than handle the situation themselves, they pretended to ignore it. Notified the Inquisition.”

“I heard the same story, right. The Inquisition swept in, burned the heretics, and held the people of the town up as model citizens.”

“I feel like that story must be at least ten years old. What’s that have to do with our missing man?”

“That story is a just a little older than your guess. Older than I remembered, to be honest. Sixteen years ago, it made quite an impression on a certain eight year old who watched the house next to his get burned to the ground… with the people still inside.”

Zoissette sat back in her chair and stared at the ceiling, and groaned.

“As for the others, I think they were already skittish. If a man who was declared such a holy example from his youth feared the inquisition…”

“…what hope could they have. Yeah.”

Gilda looked at her drink.

“I know the work the Inquisition does is necessary. There are those who would tear down Ishgard, and do the same to us, if not worse. But should we not be better than them? Should we not be so… brutal?”

“I know,” said Zoissette.

“More may flee in the coming weeks. Maybe not permanently - I got news from one of the other holdings, in fact, that our man had been spotted on the road -to- Ishgard. I think he was merely hoping to not be here while the Inquisition is. Hard to say. But with him and the others gone… our patrols are thinner now. It’s going to be hard to fill out schedules. Like I said… we’ve got a problem.”

“I know,” Zoissette repeated, feeling a sinking weight in her chest.

~~~

Zoissette greeted the Inquistor at the door with a salute.

“Greetings, with all due respect from House Vauban. It is our privilege to host you at our holdings. Please, come in.”

The inquisitor walked into the fort, looking around, taking stock of his surroundings. He wore a coat, lined thick with sumptuous fabrics. Gold chains littered the outside of it, and various rosaries and other symbols of his holy office. His presence was unmistakeable, and he seemed fit to try to fill the space with himself.

He smiled warmly at Zoissette.

“Ah, Madam Vauban, Ser Knight. Thank you for receiving me.”

“Of course. We have prepared a meal for you, of course, that you may have at your leisure. If you are tired after your journey, our house servant, Rayford Portier, has already prepared a room for you. He is at your disposal for the duration of your stay, as, of course, am I.”

The inquisitor nodded, a faint smile on his face. “Of course, of course. Thank you, Madam Vauban. I trust that you, of course, understand the importance of our work out here. I will need to see your books, of course, so that I can schedule interviews with the people. I do not think I will find anything, but often you can find hidden truths that point, if not at a person, at least elsewhere. Diligence is the price we pay, and we will pay it in full.”

“I know,” said Vauban.

“And it is the hope of the Holy See that the men will find the site of one of us visiting even such a distant outpost will be inspiring. We care for them, after all, one and all. They will surely look upon this as a momentous occasion, as their purity is seen for the truth of itself, and be bolstered by knowing their own holiness demonstrated. Our purpose is for the glory of Ishgard, you know.”

“I know,” said Vauban.

“Good, good. Of course you do. All is well for now, then. I think I shall retire for the evening. I have been traveling all day, and we can start our work early, and fresh, tomorrow morning. This is good work that we will do, Madam Vauban,” the inquisitor said, offering Vauban a smile.

Zoissette returned the smile, but her eyes were cold, and her smile was brittle.

“I know,” she said.