#court gentry fan fiction

[renren-006]

hello there! i absolutely adore your writing and saw that requests were open so i decided to send one in :) could you perhaps write a sierra six x reader where six has been acting kind of strange all day and the reader is confused. he’s just been avoiding eye contact and shyer so the reader teases him. from the reader’s teasing one thing leads to another and there’s eventual smut. but while they have sex he’s still acting all shy and stuff. sorry if this is kinda confusing hahaha. thank you!

Shy Boy | Sierra Six x Reader

warning: smut (female dominance) , court gentry being a very shy boy. word count: 653 A/n: hey hey!! i hope you enjoy this!! shy shy court gentry is very sweet to write! lmk if you have any other shy court request!! I also really love that you enjoy my writing! thank you so much for requesting something!

How were you supposed to know what goes through the Court's mind? He had always been distant about the thoughts that swirled in his head but today, today was different. The man wouldn't look at you and when he did he would just blush and return his focus to the last thing he was doing. It aggravates you, the man you love was ignoring you, or more so was so shy and flustered he couldn't look at you. You didn't know which one was worse; being ignored or your lover being shy towards you. 

This went on for about a few hours. You decided to take things into your own hands and tease him relentlessly. It was easy to tease Court on a normal day but because he had been so shy and distant lately you knew your boldness would catch him more off guard than normal. 

“Hey baby” you said, in a little bit of a huskier tone than normal. Court looked up from the book he was reading on the couch to see you above him. His cheeks reddened and he blushed. 

“Hey…” he said, drawing out his sentence. “What are you um, up to?” 

“Oh me, not much just wondering what you're doing” you said to him, you slowly sat down in his lap letting your hands run over his shirt. His book ended up on the floor and his hands found your waist. 

“Baby?” he asked shyly. You knew your mission like you knew the map of him. You unbuttoned his shirt slowly keeping your eyes on his. He never broke eye contact, even when his shirt found the floor. 

“Still shy?” you asked, and the little nod he gave you helped you know that tonight, you were in control of everything, “Okay baby” 

That night it was you in controle, it was your turn to dictate what happens. Normally you would want him to control it, want him to make you beg, but tonight it was enticing wanting to hear the begging come from him. The bed was warm from the afternoon sun on it and the almost sunset light gave Court a new glow. 

He was still shy under you, still glowing in that light while you rode him and was still so shy about making a sound while you gave him pleasure. Your hips rocked back and forth on top of him sending waves into you and his soft whimpers from under you made you rock harder on top of him. The slight bounces broke Court from his shy trance and once the moans from both of you filled the room the man that you loved with came back to you all shyness gone. He took over letting you fall on top of him, kissing your neck while he pounded into you, making you feel breathless. His hips satisfied you, and satisfied the shy boy under you. 

He laid next to you. Skin exposed to the now pink and orange sky. You turned towards him, the apartment windows letting all the sunset light, pinks oranges and blues just cascaded over the room and the two of you. “Why all the shyness Court?” you asked, breaking silence.

“I…didn't know how to talk about what I wanted” he said, a little shy but not as shy as before. 

“What did you want?” you asked, concerned letting yourself sit up to face him. 

“You, in control” he told you, your smile broke the awkwardness making Court sigh in relaxation. 

“If you want me in controle, ask, i'll do it again” You told the man you loved and Court took you in his arms, the heat and sweat not bothering you as he hugged you. The two of you fell asleep to the setting sun and the comfort of the two of you.

"I love you y/n" he whispered before you both fell into a comfortable and relaxing sleep.

[yesmaddyposts]

Loyalty Comes Soaked In Blood

Fandom: The Gray Man (2022), The Place Beyond the Pines Word count: 2k Tags: Hurt No Comfort, Crossover, Fix-It, Luke Glanton Lives, Hurt ! Sierra Six, Post-Canon, Morally Gray Characters AO3 Link

Description: While Luke Glanton recovers in the hospital from his run-in with the police, he is visited by a CIA agent offering gum and a shot at a new life.

2000

He wakes up in the hospital after hours of surgery and barely surviving his botched bank robbery. His wrists are cuffed to the bed frame as if he is in any state to make a run for it. He has thirty staples in the back of his skull, his right leg in a cast, and is post-blood transfusion.

Romina, of course, isn't at his bedside. Neither is Robin. It seems he has burned all his bridges for good this time. He starts wondering if he is better off dead so he can't hurt anyone else when the door to his hospital room opens. A nurse walks in followed by a stranger in a suit jacket.

“Your lawyer is here,” the nurse says disdainfully.

Luke can't say he blames her. It seems kind of a moot point to get him representation now after all he's done. He knows what is next for him when he goes to court. The nurse leaves them alone and his lawyer that he didn't ask for and doesn't want pulls an armchair over to his bedside.

The first thing his lawyer asks is: “Want some gum?”

He sets a manila folder on the bed and takes a package of gum out of his breast pocket. Luke is high on pain meds but not that high. He doesn’t need some justice-loving cop sympathizer to patronize him right now.

“The hell kind of lawyer are you?” Luke grits out.

“Oh, I'm not your lawyer. That's just something I told the front desk to be let in through the doors.” His Not-Lawyer introduces himself as Donald Fitzroy. Turns out he’s worse than a lawyer, in fact he's CIA, and he wants to recruit Luke for an elite unit called The Sierra Program.

“Go fuck yourself,” Luke tells him. 

But Donald Fitzroy doesn't take his words at face value. Luke knows why— they both know he has very limited options. Life in prison at best, death row at worst. Or he could go with Fitzroy and work for The Sierra Program. On paper he will have died in the hospital due to complications during surgery. His son, Romina, and anyone who ever had the unfortunate luck of meeting him will never know what becomes of him. Luke Glanton will be a ghost. A Gray Man, as Fitzroy puts it. And when he says it like that, the choice is clear.

Luke's never been the type to make good decisions.

2024

Luke Glanton is gone. From traveling-stunt-man-turned-bank-robber-deadbeat-father to CIA spy. He is Sierra Three. Sort of. 

The Sierra Program is dead in the water, but he knows how to stay afloat. Something serious went down in Europe last year, and the CIA has been scrambling ever since. With Fitzroy dead and this Carmichael asshole at the forefront of CIA operations, Luke plays his cards carefully. As Sierra Three, he works at Carmichael’s beck and call so long as he doesn’t want a bullet in the back of the head for just being associated with Fitzroy's defunct program.

In his time working under Fitzroy, his roles were often the same. Undercover work in gang settings, gathering information on low lifes and eliminating threats to national security. He was plenty good at blending in with the criminal scene. Even though he's learned several new languages, a dozen different fighting techniques, and how to assimilate into different classes and societies with ease, he still often feels like the uneducated screw up he was in his youth. If anyone from his past could see him now, he is sure they would think the same.

But he puts aside his identity crisis in favor of survival. That means he doesn’t argue when he is sent on his latest mission to a strip club of all places, and not even a high end one. It's a run down club in the outskirts of Seattle. His target is a bouncer at the club. According to Carmichael, his target is the cause of all of the CIA's woes for the past eighteen months. Sierra Six.

They finally tracked him down here in the bustling city, living the quiet life with Fitzroy's niece. Luke knows Six's mindset in choosing this place to lay low. It's a tourist-frequented city, which means it's populated enough to blend in but not so riddled with crime as to have too high of a police presence. If Six is anywhere as skilled as Luke is, which he suspects is more than likely the case after reading about the events that unfolded in Prague, Six chose to work nights here because no one would suspect a super spy to be a club bouncer of all things.

Luke has no loyalty ties to anyone from The Sierra Program. He has never been that attached to his identity as Sierra Three, nor has he ever felt the need to kiss up to Fitzroy for pulling him out of that grave he dug for himself. Fitzroy picked him because he was young, desperate, and knew his way around a motorbike. Not because he cared about second chances. With this in mind, his mission is simple: eliminate Sierra Six.

He bides his time, spending a couple hours at the bar, occasionally tipping the dancers to give him an excuse to stick around. The club bouncers have two shift changes as the men switch out for their lunch breaks. Luke is getting a lap dance from a freckled redhead (she's probably a lovely woman, but he chose her on purpose because she looked nothing like Ro) with his eyes on the front door to keep watch. Around two in the morning, Six heads outside after his break to stand guard. Ten minutes later and the lap dance is done. Luke gets up and tips the dancer extra well because it isn't his money anyway and she deserves it. 

He stumbles out of the bar, playing the part of drunken clubber with ease. It's a show he has put on a hundred times before, because people tend not to question someone who looks like him behaving like a fool. He leans heavily against the dirty wall of the club, standing close to Six but not too close.

He fumbles with a pack of cigarettes, pretends to almost drop one, and asks Six, “You got a light, man?”

Six's face is neutral, the skin around his eyes creasing just a little in a betrayal that he feels something from this interaction. Maybe disgust, maybe pity, maybe irritation from being disturbed at his post. But he silently pulls a lighter out of his pocket and lights up Luke's cigarette when he holds it out. As he does this, Luke deftly pulls his pistol and presses it against the soft part under Six's ribs. 

Six's neutral expression turns cold and he makes a low sound in his throat. Before he makes a move, Luke hisses in his ear, dropping all pretenses of drunkenness, “If you want the girl safe, you listen first.”

The girl is Claire Fitzroy, who appears to have become something akin to Six's adoptive daughter. She is obviously important to him from the way he stills and levels Luke with a killer glare. Too bad looks aren't deadly, otherwise they'd both probably be long gone.

Luke walks the both of them around the side of the club into a darkened alcove. The back door of the building leads out to the dumpster here. There's a security camera pointed right at the back door, which will come in handy in a moment. For now Luke stays in its blind spot and keeps his tone clipped. He doesn’t lower his gun.

“You have been compromised. Carmichael knows where you work, where you sleep, where you shop. If you want him coming after you then you should stay put. But if you want to stay alive you will leave tonight.” It's clear that these words are not what Six expected to hear. He doesn’t untense or lower his guard in any way, but he does give Luke a cursory once over. 

Here's the thing: Luke has no love lost over the death of Donald Fitzroy. He doesn’t care much for what happens to The Sierra Program, or how much the CIA is willing to sweep under the rug to keep business as usual. But Carmichael is a prick. He thinks he is the puppet master of all puppet masters, and believes people like Luke are born to live and die at his whim. People like Carmichael—who tout their status as Harvard graduates while walking over the real hard workers, who spit on people just trying to get by every day— they're the reason Luke got into this mess. And even though he can't get out of it, he can at least do something to make sure others have the chance.

Six asks, “Why don’t you just kill me? Afraid I might haunt you?” He's goading Luke, trying to get a rise out of him to see if he changes his mind. But Luke just smiles, tight-lipped and just short of sentimental. 

“Guess I have a soft spot for people trying to do right by their kids.” The words don't soften up Six's steely exterior. They aren't meant to. “Back up to be in view of the camera. I'm gonna shoot you in the right shoulder. It's gonna hurt like a mother fucker but I won't hit anything major."

“Then what?” 

“Then you drop dead and I shoot out the camera. You go ghost, and we never see each other again.” He hesitates for a moment. When Carmichael looks back on the footage, he's going to wonder what took them so long to get in frame. He'll need an alibi to avoid suspicion. “Punch me in the face first.”

Six either comes to the same conclusions about the alibi, or he is just that eager to land one on the guy who dared upend his carefully crafted retirement. Without hesitation he lands a mean right hook on Luke, the ring on his middle finger splitting skin and turning Luke's vision white for a hot second. He stumbles back but regains his footing moments later. He aims his gun. Six nods his assent and puts up his hands, backs himself up to be in view of the security camera.

“You're Sierra.” The way Six says it makes the words a statement rather than a question. It doesn't matter what Luke responds, because the truth is clear.

Maybe Luke has some loyalties to the program after all.

“And you're dead.” He fires a single, clean shot into the meat of Six's shoulder. Six goes down instantly and doesn't bother to muffle his groan of pain.

Luke steps up to him and shoots twice more in succession. His bullets find the concrete around Six, but Six jolts like he's been shot again. To the cameras it'll look like Luke is finishing the job. Maybe Carmichael will be fooled, maybe not. It's definitely possible that all this will have been for nothing, and he'll have someone eliminate Luke then send someone after Six once more. But there's still the chance that they'll both get out of this alive. Six will go off the grid with Fitzroy's niece and Luke will go back to doing the CIA's dirty work. It’s a chance they're both willing to take.

He looks down at Six and lowers his weapon. Six's eyes are shut and he holds his breath in a mimicry of death. The blood pooling under his shoulder is real. Luke looks into the security camera dead on. He makes sure whoever looks back at this footage gets a good look at his identifying tattoos, the unmistakable frown on his face. He points his gun up at the security camera. The blinking red dot speaks to him in a silent language. You'll never be free. Someone will always be watching over your shoulder. You’re just somebody's broken plaything.

Luke shoots out the camera.

[categorysixkaiju]

"That said, one popularist pet peeve of mine is the insistence of imposing modern frameworks on the past. Binaries like “high brow” vs “low brow” or “literary” vs. “genre”—which have already fallen out of favor in the past twenty years—can’t simply be imposed on completely different contexts."

...

"People love to declare “Jane Austen was the mass market Romance author of her day!” or “Pop art like Shakespeare becomes the canon!” [...] Jane Austen would be flabbergasted by this claim. For one thing, “the masses” didn’t really read novels back when most of the population was illiterate and books were published in editions of a few hundred. Among the novel readership that did exist, Austen wasn’t terribly popular and her books were out of print a few years after her death. However, she was celebrated by—as Wikipedia puts it—“young aristocratic opinion-makers.” One of her fans was apparently the Prince Regent (and future King George IV). Austen endured thanks to the efforts of her landed gentry family, aristocratic readers, and elite tastemakers like Henry James. While modern commercial authors like Picoult might be inspired by Austen, Austen’s own work in context was closer to the snobby literary fiction read by the elites that she derides."

...

"Although again I want to stress that modern categories can’t be simply mapped onto other times and places like Regency-era or Victorian-era England. Books were not separated into “literary fiction” vs “genre fiction” or “commercial” vs. “high brow.” The further we go back in time, the less sense it makes to try and graft these modern categories on the past. Take William Shakespeare. Yes, his plays were popular amongst common Londoners but they were also celebrated by the elites in the most literal sense. His company was called the King’s Men because they were under the patronage of the King! (Before that they were the Lord Chamberlain’s Men. Aristocratic patronage was standard.) The company performed both for the poor groundlings who couldn’t afford seated tickets and at the royal court. Was Shakespeare high brow or low brow? Genre or literary? Popular or elite? The questions don’t make sense. We can’t simply transpose modern categories or meanings on historical societies. The elites of Shakespeare’s day were the rich and powerful nobles. The closest analogues today are are politicians and billionaire tech CEOs who aren’t particularly known for reading experimental literary fiction. The richest 1% of Americans in 2023 are—if they read at all—more likely to read commercial thrillers and self-help books than the latest National Book Critics Circle award finalists. When “populists” mock “elite” tastes today, they tend to be talking about freelance literary critics, adjunct academics, and precariously employed media types who have little power or money but might have a graduate degree and a modest Twitter following. This category of “elites” didn’t exist hundreds of years ago. There’s no analogue."

...

"Even when you get closer to the modern era, the answer to the question of whether popular books or critical darlings survive is neither, for the most part. Take a look at the list of Publishers Weekly’s bestselling books in the United States from 1920 to 1929. Who today has read or even heard of Gertrude Atherton, Temple Bailey, or Harold Bell Wright? But the same can be said said of the the list of Pulitzer Prize winners of the 1920s. With the same exception of Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence—which appears on both lists—most of the award winners and bestsellers are little read today. I’ll again use Goodreads ratings as a rough measure of contemporary readership . Sinclair Lewis—America’s first Nobel winner—tops out at 25k for Main Street. Zane Grey, the once wildly popular Western writer, maxes at 12k. Mazo de la Roche, whose Jalna novels were among the most popular of their day selling millions of copies, now top out at 870 Goodreads ratings. On the other hand, novels like The Sun Also Rises and The Great Gatsby weren’t bestsellers or Pulitzer winners yet have 424k and nearly 5 million ratings respectively. (Here’s the real key to literary endurance: being put on high school reading lists.)"

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

I think he's a Jane Austin fan specifically because he's not reading because he wants to see a reflection of himself (not that Jane Eyre is by any means it's the story of a white woman born into wealth, just, follow my line of thinking here). He wants to experience what he can't have when he reads. When we meet Ed in the beginning he's got this romanticized idea of being rich that he has somewhat shattered for him in episode five. Like he thinks he wants to be an aristocrat. Life is so easy for them and they have all this money so Ill just fake my own death and take all this money that I've got and Stede's name and go live like one of them. I can totally see him decompressing after a day of Izzy's incessant nagging by reading about some well written upperclass heroine who gets courted by some well to do dashing fancyman. Like Jane Austin did critique the landed gentry system (specifically the way it treats women so not in the way that Ed would probably critique it, but it's still not acting like it's not an exclusive club built on oppression) so I think she'd be way more palatable to Ed, someone on the outside looking in, than her contemporaries and she treats her heroines as people, which as a person of a non heterosexual persuasion I feel like is a must for him (you know, for both parties to be realized characters). Jane Eyre also fits these qualifications sure, so I'm not saying no. I haven't read Jane Eyre while I have dabbled in Jane Austin. I'm just saying that's sort of the vibe I'm getting at with this. He's reading about this life that he can't have that is somewhat romanticized while simultaneously written through a critical lens, because if it was just romanticized it would be a lot more exclusionary of him.

What I'm trying to get at with this headcannon is that he's doing the same thing Stede's doing before he runs off to be a pirate. Stede canonically burried himself in fiction, and is implied to have enjoyed action/adventure pirate novels because there was no action or adventure in his real life, just the dull boring day to day. So too is Ed reading about rich people hooking up because he wants luxury and human connection.

And so while Stede was reading about rugged and dastardly pirates, Ed was reading about dashing rich men who can at times be shitheads but are ultimately desirable romantic partners. They just happened to be reading about each other.

ok. In the spirit of Pinocchio being published in the 1880s but Stede still being able to read it to his crew. I think that Ed is a Jane Austin girlie, and Stede's favorite book is Treasure Island.

[thornsnvultures]

Alright, for your birthday ask how about a little six action drabble😏

You met him on an assignment, there is obvious sexual tension and things went south. You both head back to the safehouse and he is more banged up than you so you clean up his cuts and then things get spicy.

Ps. Six looks so cut in TGM 🥵 I'm almost starting to lean more towards him than Lloyd

Thank you! 🥰 Oh I'm totally leaning towards Six too lol 😆

I got another request similar to this from @ozarkthedog that said:

How about a drabble with Six!! You held him clean his wounds?? Or maybe he helps clean yours after someone tried to kidnap you??

So I kind of combined the two, if that's alright.

eyes on me ♡

Sierra Six x gn!agent!reader

Words: under 500

Warnings: injuries, kidnapping, needles, illusions to sexy times

18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI. IF YOU INTERACT AND YOU DON’T HAVE YOUR AGE VISIBLE ON YOUR BLOG YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI.

"Ow!"

"Would you sit still? I've never heard someone complain so much in one day."

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you slipped the hooked needle through Six's arm. The gash running up his forearm is still oozing slightly so you're trying to move quickly.

"Next time try not to get kidnapped then, okay?"

"Oh sure, I'll tell the guys who set us up to be more considerate. Maybe they'll think twice about tossing me in the back of a moving van."

Your last tug on the string is maybe a little harsher than it should've been if Six's wince and low growl is anything to go by.

"I told you to stay put. You were safe at the docks."

You huffed and rolled your eyes as you packaged the first aid kit back up and stored it away under the kitchen sink.

"It was my mission too, asshole."

"Hey."

Six reaches for you with his good arm before you can walk away, hide in the bedroom of the safe house you two are stuck in until your pick up comes.

Thoughts of what happened in that van, what you had to do to defend yourself swim through your head. You trained for years on how to keep yourself safe in a situation like that, only to freeze, to let fear consume you in those few short moments. You were almost taken, almost jeopardized the whole mission and got Six hurt in the process. And you felt stupid for not listening to him in the first place.

"You're right. I should've taken you with me."

"No, I-"

"The safest place in the world for you," Six tugs gently on your hand, "is right here with me."

You look up from his bandaged up arm to the multitude of cuts and bruises marring his handsome face.

A sob catches in your throat but you won't le7t it free, you can't. You're supposed to be stronger than this.

But he's right. He makes you feel safe. Even if staying with him is more dangerous, nothing feels better than being wrapped up in his arms. Like you are right now.

"I almost lost you."

Six tightens his grip around your waist and buries his head in your neck.

"We really need to stop working together."

His goatee tickles your skin when he smiles.

"You know I'm never letting you out of my sight again, right?"

"Fine," you pull away, keeping your hand entwined with his as you move, leading him down the hall to the bedroom. "Keep your eyes on me then. I have something that requires your attention."

[shecantbother]

Pink Sand

This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction ever. I recently watched The Gray Man (I'm obsessed) and created an account just to read/write fan fic about my wonderful Six! Great film, great characters but Six found a special place in my heart. Not really sure how this works but I wrote something and you can let me know what you think.

P.S. Also first time writing in this perspective so I felt like I was learning how to ride a bicycle again.

Sierra Six/Court Gentry x Reader

Warnings: kissing, fluff

Word Count: 1936k?

Summary: Sierra Six (Court Gentry) is assigned to eliminate one of the world’s most dangerous criminals hiding out on the Bahama islands. His cover is an American tourist on vacation. Six is the best at what he does and wouldn’t let something like romance distract him from a mission…that’s until he met you one night on the pink sand beach.

You head back to your boat to enjoy dinner then decide to take a walk on the beach before bed. The November air is cool and the sounds of the waves gently crashing on the shore is like a lullaby. There’s just enough light from the restaurant in the distance and the night sky. You sink your bare feet in the cool sand with each step but stop as you notice a figure on your favourite sitting rock.

“Damn tourists”, you mumble to yourself. Still advancing towards the stone, the figure now appears to be male. Do you turn around or nonchalantly walk past him? You pause, puff, and kick the sand before heading straight towards your stolen spot. One shouldn’t be afraid to walk on their own beach you suppose…well not your ‘own’ beach but you’re a local with that right.

Attempting not to appear awkward or timid, you continue with your eyes straight ahead and thumbs in your shorts pocket- wiggling your toes in the sand. A whimper escapes as you step on a shard of glass. “Damn tourists”, you hiss while hopping on one leg.

“You okay?” A low but soft voice asks. You look up to find the stranger that stole your spot looking down on you with a straight face and intense eyes. His large frame is so close to yours so quickly, making you feel vulnerable.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just a poke…doesn’t seem deep”, you mutter. Instantly, he scans you and the surroundings as you’re concerned with your foot. It’s not exactly odd for a woman to walk on the beach alone at night, but he was trained to never put anything past him, not even the cute baby in the stroller.

“It’s dangerous going barefoot at night”, he says. “And alone.” The assassin stealthy reaches for his pocketknife as he inspects you. You don’t seem like a threat, barefoot, wearing denim shorts and a crop top, plus you sound local. So, what are you doing out here?

“My name isn’t on it, but this is kind of my spot”, you joke. “I’ve never seen you out here before.”

“Just arrived on the island today.”

“Oh, welcome. Work? Vacation?”

“Vacation”, he quickly answers knowing he was there for work.

“Nice, how long are you staying for?” You catch yourself, “I’m sorry, I’m prying after I just accused you of stealing my spot.”

“The rock?” You can have it back, no problem”, he quips. “It is a nice spot though, should probably get your name on ASAP.”

He gets a giggle out of you that he finds surprisingly pleasant and disarming.

“Y/N”, you say with a soft smile.

“Kevin”, he lies. The moonlight hits his face as the clouds dance across it, revealing cold eyes.

“Nice meeting you Kevin. I hope you enjoy your trip. I’ll be heading back now.”

“Can I walk you back?” Part of him genuinely wants to remain in your company for some reason and the other wants to rule out you being sent to sabotage his mission.

“That’s fine, I’m good”, you say. “Will probably see you around somewhere…this island is tiny”, you gesture with your fingers. You give a final wave goodbye and walk off but then turn around.

“Oh, if you need a boat tour…I’m your girl.” Shameless self-promotion, but a girl’s got to eat.

He barely raises and eyebrow. “Oh? Where do I find you?”

“Here and there, just look for the boat with the swimming pigs on it.” You tell him while walking backwards.

“Actual swimming pigs?”. He’s genuinely curious.

“No, just a painting. It’s called the Swimming Pig.”

“Hm, interesting.”  He seems amused but it was hard to tell. He did not express much emotion.

“Any who, see ya”, you turn around and make your way back home leaving the mysterious stranger in the sand.

……..

Six knows there is no room for distraction when on a job. He’d already located his target and is planning the right time to execute as he casually sips a fruit punch right across from the unsuspecting criminal. However, something else catches his steely eyes- sitting across at the bar in a floral maxi skirt and halter top with a red hibiscus tucked behind her ear.

 You turn and your eyes meet but Six awkwardly tries to underplay it. Too late, you flash the widest smile and wave your hands as if he was a friend you haven’t seen in a while. What he thought was a smile looked more like a grimace as he gives you a nod of acknowledgement.

There is something warm and welcoming in the air. Maybe it’s the island breeze and sunshine he thought, trying to dismiss the energy he feels from you.

Stay put. Great, she’s looking at me again. The tall man rises from his seat and casually makes his way to the bar.

“Hey you. Kevin, right?”

He clears his throat, “right”.

Just walk away, don’t sit down. He proceeds to pull out a seat next to you.

“Do you remember my name?” You give an impish grin.

“Y/N”, he studies you well without you noticing.

He remembers, this pleases you and you study him too. The fitted black tee-shirt reveals his lean and muscular physique, along with the tattoos gracing his body. In daylight, his eyes are like the ocean. They seem void at first and makes him look perpetually bored, but they are the part of him that reveals the most.

“Those look interesting”, you gesture at his arm. “Any special meaning?”

 “Ah, not really… Greek. Just a guy trying to get a rock up a hill.”

“Sisyphus?”

“Right, him.”

“Are you trying to get a rock up a hill Kevin?”

“It feels that way sometimes… most times.”

“Well, I hope you make it up that hill someday.”

Six nods his head in agreement and is grateful for your kind words.

You both sit there for a while, awkwardly exchanging glances as you try to keep up with his glare but fail. He utters nothing of course and you take a sip of your drink, playing with the tiny umbrella. Usually, he finds people evading eye contact untrustworthy, but somehow, he finds you…cute.

He wants to talk to you, but don’t know where to start. How could he try to get to know someone that he’ll inevitable end up leaving behind because of work? That’s right, work… because of it he has no life, no joy, no real happiness. It’s only times like these, on the job where he can live a little and sip a fruit punch on the beach.

He clears his throat. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“S-sure”, your eyes light up.

 Heading towards the beach, you instinctively take your sandals off and continue barefoot. He watches you curiously and gives a faint smile.

“You forgot what happened last night?”, he teases.

“It just feels so much better. Warm sand between your toes.”

Six admires your freedom and joins you barefoot in the warm sand. You walk along the pink sand beach, looking towards the turquoise waters and occasionally at each other without saying a word. You’re not used to such a silent man, but you welcome it.

 “Want to join me at my spot?” You shoot him a playful smile, skipping towards the large, smooth stones. Like a gentleman, he helps you up and you both sit down overlooking the ocean. You watch the occasional couple pass by, families in the distance, and the sky transition from blue to pink to violet and then stars decorate above. You point at the stars; he looks up and tells you about the constellations. Your hands accidentally touch, sending tingles throughout you both.

“Sorry”, you both chime and smile sheepishly. He likes the feeling, and holds your hand, letting your fingers interlock. Yours are the softest he’s ever felt. You ask him about work, he tells you how stressful it is, he asks about your boat, you tell him about your dreams of sailing around the world. You go around the universe and back, sharing your childhood experiences, woes of adulthood and exchange laughs, all while under the stars.

The restaurant is alive, with music in the distance. Two strangers that have never felt this close to another, gazing into each other’s eyes. Somehow, you find comfort in each other. He feels a knot tighten in his stomach at the realization that this is yet another beautiful thing he is denied. The warmth of another that could possibly be someone he could call his own.

“I’m leaving tomorrow”, he says softly.

You can’t hide your disappointment and shock. “I thought… but you just got here.”

“Something important came up and they need me back.”

“Can’t someone else, do it?”, you almost plead.

“Apparently I’m the only man for the job.”

Technically, the man lies for a living. Then, why did it feel so wrong this time?

“Oh”, you turn back to the ocean. Calling yourself stupid for feeling so strongly towards a man you just met. Six notices your attempt at hiding your feelings and gives your hand a gentle squeeze. He’s stoic and seemly emotionless, but beneath it all is empathy and warmth he rarely gets the opportunity to give.

“I wish I could stay”, he says softly. Resting your head on his shoulder, he wraps his arm around you allowing you to lean on his chest. You stay like that for a while, looking out into the black abyss and listening to the waves crash.

Fingers interlocked as Six walks you back home. This is the end of what could have been, and he didn’t expect it to be this hard. You stood where there was just enough light illuminating you both.

“Will I ever see you again?” You ask.

Not willing to tell you anymore lies, “I don’t know”. It’s probably safer if you never do.

This hurt, but you smile still…just faintly.

“Good night, Kevin. I’m glad I met you.” You reluctantly unlock your hand from his.

“Good night.”

You turn around to unlock your door and each step feels labored. Before you could turn the key, he grabs your arm to face him. Six gently pushes you back against the door with one hand on your waist. There’s no time to think as he leans in, tilting his body to reach your lips. The heat radiates from your lips to the rest of your body, and you’re now under his control. He takes everything in one breath, and you swear time stops. A soft moan escapes you as he parts your lips with his tongue and his grip on your waist tightens. Before you could touch him, he releases, with you both burning for more.

You can breathe again, not that you were complaining. You can see it now, the pain in his deep blue eyes that he hides so well. You rest your palm over his heart, “take care of yourself, okay.”

“You’re so sweet”, he sighs. “Thanks, you too.” Wishing he could say more, do more, instead, he just lets you go. It’s better that way. If he has no one to love, he has no one to lose.

[court-of-forever-undone]

How Am I Going To Tell Him?

Jude x Cardan Fan Fiction | |  Part 7 of 11

Summary: Jude has been feeling sick for a few days. The flu? Poison? It takes Taryn only a minute to realize the cause: The High Queen is pregnant.

Chapter Summary: Six months have passed since Jude discovered she was pregnant. Now, she is adjusting to pregnancy life, which includes feeling suffocated by the watchful eye of her knights and husband.

Read on AO3 -> “How Am I Going to Tell Him”

Masterlist

Rating: T

Chapter 7: Pregnancy Days

Six months had passed since Jude found out she was pregnant. Her once flat stomach now protruded out like a watermelon. As her belly grew, it seemed as if her reputation as the Murderess Queen had begun to dissolve, at least in terms of people willing to approach her.

At a party shortly after Jude began to show, a group of particularly handsy gentry cornered the queen and tried to feel her bump through her gown. But before Jude could even protest, Cardan intervened with an unusual bloodlust in his eyes. The way they flinched as he spoke it was as if his words were daggers striking them. It had seemed that the High King’s threat to remove the hands of any who touched the Queen without her consent greatly dropped the number of folk who attempted to rub her bump, but it did not stop those who could not help themselves from surrounding her to get a better view of the mortal queen carrying what many thought to be the next heir to the throne.

Shortly after Jude had thrown up at the revel, she and Cardan agreed to make the announcement to the kingdom. Cardan invited heads of all the lower courts, as well as folk from the surrounding islands under the pretense that it was going to be an elaborate celebration of the accomplishments of the previous year.

At the height of the revel, Cardan raised a glass of wine and announced, “To our guests, I wish to bestow upon you another reason for celebration this evening, for Jude, my wife, and our High Queen of Elfhame, is carrying the next heir of the Greenbriar line.”

Jude remembered there being a brief moment of utter silence as Cardan’s words were absorbed by the room in which she questioned if they would be angry that the High King’s child would be half-mortal, but before she could fully process the thought there was a massive crescendo of cheering. The fey of the room simply went crazy at the news. Some even gathered on top of tables to cheer for the young couple. The palace had actually faced a wine shortage in the week following the news.

It seemed that even a half-mortal baby was still a reason to celebrate. The kingdom had not had the chance to celebrate a royal baby since Cardan was conceived two decades prior.

After that night, the Kingdom maintained an almost constant state of celebration, as there was more to celebrate than just the news of a royal baby. The lands of Elfhame had become rich and fertile over the last few months. Orchards had sprouted twice as many trees, fruits and vegetables grew double in size, and even the wildflowers that once were only scattered around the woods could now be found everywhere. It seemed that similar to how Cardan’s drinking caused subjects to feel tipsy, Jude’s pregnancy caused the entire land to grow as she did.

While everyone seemed to be in good spirits, Jude found herself becoming more restless (and hungry) with each day that passed. Cardan and her had made an agreement that she would be allowed to move around as she pleased as long as she went with her personal guards, which had been doubled in size per the order of the king.

Early on, the discrepancy between Cardan’s actions and words was obvious. Almost nonchalantly, Cardan would remind Jude of her mortality and make jokes about inevitable punishment if she were to get her or the baby killed. Meanwhile, Jude noticed the increase in eyes that watched her from the shadows; the Roach, the Bomb, or the Ghost were almost always nearby. The guard's presence at events had also been tripled. Jude could not eat anything that hadn’t already been tested. She had also noticed that when he thought she was asleep he would feel her stomach with the familiar tingling sensation of his magic to check on the baby.

Once Jude had gone out riding in the Milkwood, unaccompanied, only to come home to find Cardan preparing for what looked like a war.

They argued for quite some time about supposed dangers, before Cardan had said, “Jude, I understand you have a limited sense of self-preservation, and I don’t doubt you get some enjoyment out of terrorizing me, but for all of our sakes, please be more careful. Avoid dangerous situations.”

“I am careful. Besides, if I don’t keep my strength up, then I would be putting us at risk.” Jude had countered.

Cardan rolled his eyes. “That is what your guards are for.” But he knew it was a losing battle against her.

Even pregnant, Jude’s fighting spirit had not been diminished. She would shoot a deadly scowl at anyone, Cardan specifically, whenever she did not get her way. Most of the time, he would playfully argue back just until she got worked up, before caving to her demands. Regardless of her stares or threats, the way she had begun to waddle when she walked dulled her ferocity.

They compromised that Jude would only train with her sword for an hour a day and allow her guards to follow her everywhere. Reluctantly, Jude had agreed to the terms.

Ritualistically, Jude spent the first hour of her day in the training grounds that Cardan had commissioned right outside the palace for her to use.

Jude was not used to such a sedentary lifestyle, so she looked forward to every time she was able to feel the connection of metal and slice through things. With Nightfell in her hand, she practiced her formations, longing to spare with a real person again. Occasionally, she was able to bribe a member of the Court of Shadows to spare with her, but everyone was out of the palace at the moment.

For today, she would just have to suffice with formations, which she admittedly needed to work on. As her stomach continued to grow, Jude found that her balance was shifting. Her range was also suffering, but as long as she could keep light on her feet she could compensate for her limited range by moving her body.

Halfway through her set, sweat beads began to accumulate on her brow. Jude switched to working on her stealth skills. It turns out it was much harder to light foot around when she suddenly found herself to be 25 lbs heavier and her movement was awkward.

Around the hour mark, Jude begrudgingly made her way back to the palace to clean up before she was expected in the throne room to hear grievances from folk.

Jude thought that when she became queen a spotlight had been placed on her, however, now it seemed that spotlight had grown in intensity. Before she was announced into the brugh, many heads had already turned to watch her, a pair of shimmering black eyes among them watching her thoughtfully as she made her way across the room.

Cardan was lounging on the throne, per usual, but rose to meet her as she climbed the dais to her matching seat.

The schedule for the day was filled with grievances ranging from trade deals gone wrong to several testimonies in regards to a string of recent murders.

One of the witnesses was an old goblin woman named Fandella and her grandson, Faun, who had both goblin and faerie traits and appeared to be younger than Oak. Fandella explained how the boy’s parents had both been taken in the night. Faun had heard their screams before they were drug away. It had been days now and they were assumed to be dead.

“And what is it you ask of us?” Cardan inquired, his tone neutral. “We have already sent knights to find who has done this and we will ensure their punishment fits their crime.”

“The boy’s parents were in debt to the grainmaker, Kyes. Kyes now wants to turn the gold debt that my son and his wife had accumulated into years of service to be paid by the child, as he has no way of earning money. I would offer to give myself to his service, but I am already serving ten years for another.” The old woman’s eyes flickered between Jude and Cardan, searching for any hope in her plea.

The little boy was half-tucked behind the skirt of his grandmother but looked up at her with soft eyes. Jude felt sorry for him. Folk were always getting into bargains that never ended well for the recipient, even for those who weren’t mortals.

Fandella continued, “I ask that you hire the child as a page or any other position that would please you. He is faster than any other child his age and he listens well. With a job, here of all places, Kyes would have no choice but to keep the gold debt. Together the child and I could pay off the debt that he has inherited in a few short years. I am afraid of what will happen to him if he is taken by the grainmaker.”

The woman’s face hid none of her desperation, but she stood tall, and lightly pushed the child in front of her. The child looked around nervously before he took a deep bow before the king and queen.

Cardan opened his mouth, but Jude spoke up before he could reply.

“Faun?” Jude’s voice was gentle. She noticed his little horns that were peaking from his curls and was reminded of Oak again. “Do you wish to be a royal page?”

The little boy looked up at the queen with his wide black eyes. He smiled and nodded, his shaking had stopped.

Jude smiled back at the child, before returning her gaze to the woman. “Fandella, your grandson will have a spot within these walls. However, Faun will not be responsible for the choices of his parents. Consider the debt to the grainmaker paid for courtesy of the crown.”

Randalin begins his usual protests but was cut short when Cardan raised his hand.

Cardan peered at her from the corner of his eye for only a moment, before motioning for the next witness to come. “The Queen has spoken,” he says with a smirk.

In a voice so quiet only she could hear, he whispered, “I hope that was a good idea.”

_______________________________________________________________

A few hours later, Jude and Cardan were both in the royal chambers. This was a time when Jude normally took a quick rest before having to continue with their duties that often lasted well into the first hours of light. At first, Jude found the break to be unbearably annoying, but the further into her pregnancy she got, she began to enjoy the time.

She enjoyed it more when Cardan was also able to join her.

Today, Cardan requested a hot bath to be prepared for the two.

After undressing, Jude walked over to the tub and dipped her toes in before sliding fully into the water that spelled of honey and roses. Jude loved how relaxing the hot water felt against her skin. Suddenly, all the strain on her neck and back were gone.

Cardan got in the tub and found a spot across from her. When Jude noticed his devious grin at her naked body, she splashed the look off of his face. But after wiping his eyes, his grin only grew from seeing her wear her familiar scowl, and only a scowl.

Jude rolled her eyes and decided to break the silence. “Have you thought of any names yet?” Jude asked, looking down at her bump.

Cardan eliminated the space between them and took a spot next to her. “Mmm, how about Aoife?”

Jude made a face.

If Cardan noticed, he chose to ignore her. “...or Siobhan?” He pressed a few kisses into the curve of her neck as he spoke. “Ellie?”

“Those are all girl names you realize.” Jude chuckled but did not disagree with any particular name.

Cardan just gave a shrug. “What name would you like?” Under the water, Jude felt him place his hand on her stomach, rubbing it softly.

Jude had given it some thought, but none had really felt right. It was difficult to find the perfect name before meeting someone. “I am not sure yet…” She trailed off, running through every name she had considered.

“Just think of whatever you would like to call them. The true name business can be figured out later,” Cardan said with a sigh.

Obviously, Jude knew about true names, but for some reason, she hadn’t thought that the name she chose might not be the one others would call it.

“So do we really need to pick two names?” Jude asked. Great, now she had to decide on more names.

Cardan smiled, “Not exactly.” Despite being alone in the bathroom, Cardan looked over his shoulder ensuring no servant had wandered nearby. “Since you are Queen after all, I suppose I can share the family secret.”

Jude perked up in the bath. Nervousness spread across his face in the form of a smile, “So all royal children actually have four names given at birth. Only my father knew all my siblings' names. Not even my mother knows mine.”

Jude’s mouth dropped. She realized for the first time, she didn’t actually know Cardan’s real name and he didn’t know her full name either. Some armor is smart to hold on to.

She raised an eyebrow. “So only you will know the child’s true name?”

Cardan pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are a queen, dearest. I couldn’t hide it from you if I tried.”

Satisfied with that, Jude decided to ask another pressing question, “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

While she had struggled with names, she had thought quite a bit about whether she thought it was a boy or a girl. It wouldn’t make much of a difference in what she wanted to teach them, both would need to know how to defend themselves, fit into Faerieland as a half-mortal, maybe a few tips and tricks she had picked up during her time as a spy, but the idea of having a little boy with tiny black curls made the count down to her due to date all the more exciting. Of course, she would be happy so long as it was healthy, but she could not shake the image of a baby boy. Not that Cardan needs to know her preference.

Jude waited for his answer, but he seemed more interested in her stomach. “I could give you a definitive answer, you know.”

Jude groaned. “I have already said I don’t want to know anything! It will be a surprise.” Cardan rolled his eyes. “And you still didn’t answer the question.” Jude reminded him.

“Both? Either? I do not have a preference.” He replied with a wicked grin.

“Both?” Jude echoed. “Should I be expecting another one so soon after the first?” Cardan avoided her eyes, the grin still wide on his face.

Jude continued, “Well, I’ll let you know how the delivery goes. Who knows after that, I may not allow you within 5 feet of me.”

That caught his attention. Suddenly, his hand went up to her face, tilting her chin towards him.

“How cruel you can be.” His words laced with wanting. “But I suppose I like that don’t I?” His smirk disappeared as she met his lips with hers, sliding deeper into the water.

_______________________________________________________________

Later that evening, Jude found herself walking through the garden which was packed with groups of courtiers and members of the Unseelie court. With the recent killings, the Living Counsel had thought it wise to keep an eye on a few members of the unruly court. Jude doubted that any member was participating directly, however, she had a feeling they knew more than they let on in their discussions. In response, Cardan agreed to host the court after their meeting for a bit of revelry.

Jude was hoping to only stay as long as she must. The guests had become quite rowdy in only an hour and she found herself longing to leave the crowds of celebrating fey.

As she settled onto a bench near the edge of the festivities, she watched Cardan schmooze his way around the room. He was dressed in a long black cloak, his crown sat perfectly askew on his head, with golden paint highlighting his eyes. Even from a distance, Jude couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he was.

Tonight, his job was simple enough. He would keep the party going and let the spies around the garden pick up on any spilled gossip.

Cardan was laughing alongside a high ranking general, when Jude felt a presence sit down beside her, uncomfortably close. Jude turned to see a faerie with fair white skin and ram horns twisted on his head only inches from her face. The way he was eyeing her felt almost predatorial.

“My, my, what a beautiful mortal you are.” The faerie said with a wide smile, revealing his pointed teeth. His eyes flickered between Jude and her rounded stomach.

Instinctively, Jude brought her hand to the soft material covering her bump, before correcting him, “Mortal queen” Jude retorted back. Her voice as unfriendly as she can make it without drawing attention.

Without knowing just who he was, Jude thought it best to be cautious. She hoped he would get bored and just leave her alone. Cardan hated when she fought with guests, especially when she pulled knives on them.

“Oh of course, my queen. I just find pregnant mortals to be just fascinating. And you are carrying a royal heir which makes you extra special.” The faerie’s words were slow and slightly slurred. Jude could smell the sweet wine on his breath. It was no wonder he was being so bold.

It was also not the first time that a member of the gentry had expressed interest in her since becoming pregnant. Jude figured that because pregnancy was so rare among fey, that they were simply curious. However, many had commented on how delicious she smelled and some went as far as to offer themselves to her. Taryn said she had a similar experience, to a lesser degree, but it stopped after she gave birth.

Suddenly, the man brought a long finger to her chin. “I wonder, does the king keep you all to himself?” His voice sent terrifying chills down Jude’s back.

Enough was enough. Cardan would have to forgive her if this man lost his hand. She swatted his hand away, the force stinging her own hand in the process. She stood up as gracefully as she could.

“It is time you left don’t you think?” She hissed.

Jude had been so focused on the fae next to her that she had not realized the eyes of everyone in the garden was on her and three knights now looming over him. Cardan’s familiar hand found it’s way onto her hip. She wondered how long he had been watching.

“You seemed to have forgotten your place, Osian. Must you be reminded?” Cardan looked truly terrifying. Jude was happy to not be on the receiving end of his words or stare.

“Leave. Now.”

The faerie, Osian, did not look as phased as she had expected, probably too intoxicated to understand the weight of the situation.

“My apologies, your majesties.” Osian stood, stumbled slightly as he bowed, before turning to leave. The three knights followed him out of the gardens.

Cardan stood for a moment too long, glaring at the path they took, before turning back to the staring crowds. He called on the band to play another song and proposed a dancing game, which seemed to make the quests forget what had just transpired.

For the first time, Cardan looked back at her. Jude felt furious. Not because of the drunk faerie, but of the theatrics that seemed to take place every time the slightest danger arose.

“There was no need to make a scene.” Jude hissed. “I was perfectly capable of handling him.”

Cardan said nothing but followed alongside her as she marched to the exit of the garden. She had had enough of the garden party and surely, he could manage the plan from here.

“I will come to the room when I can,” Cardan whispered, but Jude was already stomping away. Knights following behind her.

[amethystfaery-blog1]

Faery Witchcraft

Hello lovelies,

There are many kinds of witches out there. Witchcraft is such a flexible and personal form of faith and expression that there are so many sub groups and types of witches out there that I thought it would be fun and informative to actually look a little more in-depth in to the different kinds of witch craft out there but also supply some places and books that you could look at to learn more yourself if you are interested..

So the first one i am going to talk about is fey witchcraft. Its the one I have had the most interaction with so it seemed like a good place to start. Fairies were my first foray into magic as a child. First though I am going to talk a bit about fairies because when I was young fairies were always pretty and lovely with glittery wings and little tiaras, they were there to help and might be a little mischievous but in the ends meant no real harm.

Holy Summerlands is that a load of bullshit.

I read a series called the Merry Gentry by Laurell K Hamilton and it was full of all kinds of different fey. Then me being me, I was curious if any of it was based on history or myth and to my delight it was based on old legends. I began delving into the myths of the sidhe and brownies and red caps, it was quite interesting and the legends and stories held all sorts of mischievous and really quite horrible things the fey were said to do to humans. What was worse were the things humans did to those they thought were fairies like throw babies they believed to be changelings (children swapped with fairy babies) into the fire. Ireland, England and Scotland seemed to have the longest and deepest history of fairies if you are interested in learning more. There are some beautiful and scary legends of all sorts of fey. Like the red caps who wore caps that dripped blood, the sidhe who would steal away people and return them years later, only for them to die because they ate faery food. Brownies were spirits who would look after a house or a family, some were good and some were bad but the only way to get them to leave was by gifting them with something could be clothes, food or items. The high courts of fey called Sidhe were capable of great beauty and nightmares. People used to blame wild faery hunts on people becoming mad.

So to the point of the post. Witches who identify as Faery witch or practice a fey kind of witchcraft or incorporate fey into their magic essentially use fairies the way many will use gods or goddesses or spirits or elements. When one needs help or guidance they may call on a specific kind of fairy to help them. Fairies are also said to be big helpers in leaving signs and symbols but also can cause chaos and upset if they are angered. Fairies are quite powerful and easily offended, hence why many books will tell you to leave offerings a lot to keep the fey from playing pranks or causing chaos in your home.

Fairies are very much tied to the earth and like animals they do not behave like humans. They will do as they please and only help if they want, no matter how many times you ask or plead. Fey magic is a very wild magic and users need to have a heavy does of caution and respect when dealing with the fey. That is not to say it is only bad or good, but just as you would be careful around an animal because you don’t know how they will react to what you do, you need to be careful around them. I know I am writing alot about caution but fey magic can be a wonderful thing to incorporate into your craft or even be the kind of witchcraft you throw yourself into fully if it speaks to you. Welcoming fey into your life and home can be an amazing experience. They used to say that those who were artists and creative or a little mad (ie saw the world different) were touched or blessed by the fey. Talking to the fey and opening your energy to them can bring in a kind of madness and wildness that can be wonderful and eye opening as long as you don’t take then for granted because once they’re pissed, you can be in trouble. They are not human and see the world so differently than what we see it as, which is wonderful and can cause us to challenge how we view things but as I said, it means they may not react the way humans would if you do something. Promises mean everything to the fey, if you make a promise to them keep it but it goes both ways if they make a promise to you then you can be guaranteed that they will deliver. Keeping ones word was a way to show honour amongst the fey and there are many legends that show breaking a vow or lying was a quick way to either end up dead or hurt or tricked. Also make sure each promise or deal is spelled out specifically, they are notorious for keeping their word but will sometimes keep it in a way you don’t expect. For example, if they promise to make a dream come true and have not specified what dream it could be any, from being naked in front of everyone to having more money than you could dream (of course witchcraft doesn’t normally work in the way anyway, just handing you what you want but it’s an example).

On to a lighter note, I never used to see the fey as a child outside of my dreams and mind but I would build houses and places for them to hide and rest amongst the fallen frangipani flowers, leaves and gum nuts. I would dig holes in tree stumps and make little shelters out of sticks and leaves. I used to do it because I believed I was helping them even though I didn’t see them when I was outside. Just because you don’t see doesn’t mean you don’t believe. I never quite saw things the way other saw things. I lived half in a dream world and was always classified a little different from the others around me. Not that that is a bad thing, I just see now that I may have been a bit touched by the fey which is actually kind of cool now that I think of it and I value the fact I can believe in things even when others kind of think I am woo woo.

So if you are interested in looking more into this kind magic I am providing a list of books to start looking into. Keep in mind that fey magic is essentially witchcraft except as I said previously you are looking to the fey for help or guidance rather than to any god or goddess. The fey are extremely nature based so nature based practices and holidays from things like wicca and other pagan practices can go hand in hand with fey. The key in my opinion in building your fey magic is to research. Look into the myths, legends and books that contain fey. The Merry Gentry series caused me to start my own research into the fey, it got me writing questions, looking up names and places mentioned in the books and that is how I started learning about the fairies I had believed in as a child in a much more real light.

So to start you on your way are a list of books both fiction and non, poems, tarot cards and bits and bobs that can get you started.

Books to look into:

Shadow and Light Oracle deck By Lucy Cavendish and Jasmine Beckett Griffith One of my first oracle decks that truly caught. I think it also thoroughly captures the light, dark and shadows aspects of the fey. But it also shows how just because soemthing is light does not mean it is good, nor because something is dark does not mean it is bad. You will be quite surprised by the cards meanings, they won’t be what you expect them to be.

Grimm’s Tales By the Grimm’s Brothers and Fairy tales by Hans Christian Anderson Read closely to the way the fairies and witches are portrayed here, you will be surprised by how many were not actually bad or evil but were generally wronged or keeping promises. An example is the witch in Rapunzel, she made a promise with the man that he could have as much green as long as he promised his first born. He agreed to the deal, he did not have to but he did and when the witch came to collect she was merely receiving her part of the deal. In Sleeping Beauty the fairy that cursed the princess was not a mean fairy but merely one that had been forgotten even when the other fairies had been invited, then was dis-respected by the king and queen. She was hurt and lashed out.

Goblin Market Goblins are classified fey. I read this poem in high school and it shows the darker side of the fey. The part that would lure and “play” with humans for their own amusement.

Midsummer Nights Dream By William Shakespeare It’s a classic, just try it.

Faery Magic by Lucy Cavendish and Selene Connelly This is probably the most instructional and well written book on actual fey witchcraft I have ever read (yes I am a huge Lucy Cavendish fan). Not only does it cover different types or fey, but also how to communicate and inject them into your craft. If you are looking for something more information on how to for faery witchcraft I definitely recommend this book over all others.

An Encyclopedia of Faeries, Hobgoblins, Brownies, Bogies and other supernatural creatures By Katharine Briggs. So I actually got this book as a Christmas gift from my dad as a fluke. He asked what I wanted and I wrote this book down as I knew it was impossible to find and shock and surprise it turned up. It’s amazing. It is written by a woman who got her PhD in this stuff and is full of all the different legends, myths and fey, it should be a go to for anyone who is interested in fey magic.

Merry Gentry By Laurel K Hamilton This was the series that got me back into faeries because the fey in here are not the pretty, glittery, helping and gentle kind of fairies little kids grow up with. These fey have watched history go by, shaped it, been worshipped as gods, been stripped of their powers and are pretty much dying as a race until this Princess starts to wake things up. Laurel K Hamilton did her research for this series to which I found out after looking at the bibliography at the back and then looking up some of the names in the series. She makes it her own but uses legends and myths to make it more real I guess would be the word. It’s set in the modern day and it’s a world where the fey have been apart of life the whole time.

Fair Folk By Marvin Kaye This is a collection of stories where people have encounters with the fey. I like these collections because they show the more unpredictable side to the fey. For example the first books is about a girl who is forced to do things for a fairy but ends up not being the one he wants, he wants her beautiful yet mean step sister. Another is a bout a man who has Brownie move in, which he is happy about until he realises she is using his credit card to fix up his apartment and buy food and she has expensive tastes. The stories are pretty good, I re-read them all the time.

Yes I realise a lot of these books are fiction but the point is to start you thinking. The Merry Gentry series are the only reason why I am into all kinds of fey as an adult, the Fair Folk and Goblin markets showed me darker and more unpredictable sides of the fey, but it was my own research that shaped the way I talk to the fey today. There is also the fact that there are few (in my opinion) decent books on actual faery witchcraft, hence why I only offered one. But that being said using faeries in your craft is something easily applied to as long as you research the type of fey. You would not ask a Red Cap for house help but you may ask a Brownie. Or you would not ask a Kelpie to help you how to swim but maybe a mermaid or one of the Tuatha De Daanan would be able to. And if you have no idea what any of those things are google it.

My last piece of advice is to go find a toadstool ring or a mushroom ring and stand in it. Listen carefully, listen with an open mind and see if you can here them.

Love to hear what you all think of all this and from any Fey Witches out there.

Talk to you all later,

[rpgsandbox]

There will be dragons and there will be sirens and there will be all the armies of the otherworld sent to bring you back. But you will slay them and you will shun them and you will stand on the battlements of your fortress as they break against your walls of thorn and iron.  

You will be free.

You know the stories. The hero leaves his village on a terrifying journey, or the waif finds her way through the cold, dark woods. In the end, they kill the giant or shove the witch in an oven.  

But what happens next?  

In Changeling: The Lost, you take on the role of an ordinary person who has seen the extraordinary. Lured or abducted by the alien Gentry, you have passed the gates and Hedges between our world and the vast fantastic.  

In Arcadia, the Gentry changed you. They forged your flesh and sewed your bones, and they gave you a role to play. You were a lover or a servant or a monster. But it was never your story.  

Having run from your Keeper and climbed your way back through the Hedge (and didn’t the thorns bite more than they did going in?), you’re back in the world of pizza and Facebook and nuclear anxiety.  

Your eyes are open now. You can see that magic is not the sole province of Faerie. The world is alive with wonders most people never see...and rife with horrors that count on that unwariness. It’s all part of your life now. You take the good with the bad, the magic with the monstrosity, the beauty with the madness.  

It’s not always an easy story, not always a happy story. But now it’s your story.

Changeling: The Lost began in 2007, and amassed some of the most passionate fans the Chronicles of Darknesshas ever known. Now, it’s reborn in its second edition, which tells new tales and builds on lessons learned in the past ten years. We’re jumping back into the brambles, and letting the scar tissue from last time protect us.

This CHANGELING: THE LOST 2nd Edition Kickstarter is designed to enable us to create a prestige hardcover edition designed to match the look and feel of our other Chronicles of Darkness core rulebooks such as Vampire: The Requiem, Werewolf: The Forsaken, or Mage: The Awakening...    

We want to create an 8.5" x 11" hardcover with a beautifully designed, symbolic cover image printed on a metallic under layer, and featuring an emboss/deboss of the logo. We estimate the book to be more than 300 pages, with a two-color interior and endpapers on high quality paper stock.

Changeling: The Lost, Second Edition will include the many kinds of changelings and their Courts, powers and other perks for the Lost, antagonists such as Huntsmen, Hedge Ghosts, and of course the True Fae, and cities from around the world with their own local Courts.

Chapters include:

The Fair and the Foul: Seemings (the fairy tale roles changelings play) and Courts (the most common groups in changeling culture).  

More in Heaven and Earth: The worlds changelings move through, and descriptions of changeling culture.  

Words of Wonder: Character creation, Contracts (powers) and Merits for changelings.  

Words of Binding: The core Chronicles of Darkness rules, plus subsystems like Hedge shaping and dream battles.  

Shared Nightmares: Allies and antagonists for the Lost, ranging from goblins to True Fae.  

All the Kingdoms of the Earth: Changeling society in different cities, including local Courts for each one.  

Tales Around the Fire: Storytelling advice, including Chronicle-building, rules for creating new Courts and Contracts, and player safety advice.

Appendix: The Fae-Touched: Character creation for those bound by promises they made to changelings before the changelings' abduction.

Throughout the campaign, we will be posting previews of the Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition manuscript as updates for all backers.

The goals of this project are threefold:

First, and most important, we’re running this Kickstarter so we can make the best version of Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition that is possible. Getting your support early allows us to fund the best production, use the most appropriate components, and possibly even add more art to the core book.

Second, we're able to use funding to explore more of the Changeling world, even expanding into rules companions or fiction anthologies. The greater our funding on the Kickstarter, the more resources we are able to devote to exploring this setting.

Third, we're able to celebrate the legacy of Changeling: The Lost by offering a great deal on a list of first edition Changeling: The Lost titles in PDF. The Arcadian Dreams digital bundle is included in several reward tiers, or can be added to any reward, and begins with 7 titles from the first edition library. As we expand our funding on the entire project, we will be able to add titles to this bundle making it a truly amazing offer.

Beyond all of those campaign-specific goals, we hope to do what our games have always done - build a community invested in each other's stories and shared imagination. Every person who participates is joining with the goal of bringing this game into the world, and that common goal is a powerful binding element that we can't help but want to share. When you back this project, you join us on this journey and become part of our motley band.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Thu, December 14 2017 5:00 PM UTC +00:00

Website:  Onyx Path Publishing

[politicalsavvyandshushing]

Quick Review: Florence Nightingale: The Courageous Life of the Legendary Nurse

Before reading this biography, I had a vision of Florence Nightingale: much respected nurse who graced the battlefields of the Crimea. It turns out there is far more to her story than her role as the battlefield nurse for which she is most well-known.

Florence, born during her parents’ extended honeymoon was, like her sister Parthenope (“Parthe”), named for the city of her birth. Her parents were from what was then considered a “middle class” family, but that is only because they were not gentry. Her father had inherited property and 100,000 pounds from his uncle before she was born. This wealth allowed them the opportunity to travel extensively, both when the girls were young and to send them on various trips as adults.  

Unfortunately for Florence, she had no brothers, which meant their wealth was in constant peril. If she or her sister did not produce a boy, the family would lose their wealth as soon as her father died. Florence, her mother, and her sister would then be dependent on their cousins, who would inherit the property and wealth thanks to the twists of their great-uncle’s will. While Florence had offers, she felt she had a calling to nursing and knew that this calling was not compatible with married life and turned her gentlemen callers down.  

Her sister, suited for marriage, did not receive offers and this led to real difficulties in their relationship. Parthe seems to have been envious of Florence and angry at Florence’s dedication to studying nursing. She also suffered from ill health, which impacted her overall personality. Florence’s parents had encouraged her academic potential when she was young, but vetoed her desire to study nursing. At the time, young ladies who had been presented at court were not usually occupied outside the home. They would volunteer, but everything was centered around the home.  

Eventually, Florence was able to study with various nurses and was put in charge of a hospital for women without families. In this position, she advocated for equality of religion for her charges. For example, she was able to have Catholic priests approved to visit their parishioners for the first time. After only a year, she had turned the women’s hospital around and she opted to move on to greater challenges, which shortly led to her appointment to lead the experimental dispatch of female nurses to the battlefield. Many of the methods that Florence put into place back in the 1850s carry into the practice of nursing even today. She was a pioneer in professionalizing nursing, which is what most people know about her.  

This book does a terrific job of discussing other aspects of her life and these other aspects are where I feel teens will appreciate her more. While she and her parents had a generally loving relationship, their expectations versus her wishes caused a great deal of conflict. She and her sister had a relationship plagued with rivalry and frustration. She had troubles with depression. Then there was her management style. While she had been encouraged to be democratic in her handling of the nurses she supervised, she tended to be controlling and demanding. While patients often described her as warm and caring, her nurses felt she was a bit cold. While she is treated unfairly by her sister at one point, at another she returns the favor.  

Rather than painting her as a saint, the text demonstrates several sides of this legendary woman, making her far more interesting than one would expect. This could be read by both middle school students or high school. The book has quite a few contemporary photos and painting, as well as reproduced documents throughout, which helps keep the book moving.  

I would particularly recommend this to fans of historical fiction or biographies along the lines of The Family Romanov, but it is a good choice for any student looking for a biography.

Reef, C. (2016). Florence Nightingale: The Courageous Life of the Legendary Nurse. New York: Clarion Books from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

$18.99, 9780544535800, p.182, 11+

[renren-006]

hello, how are you? firstly i would like to say that I loved your writing, you write very well!! i was very happy to discover more things about six, even though it had been a while

i don't know if you accept requests, but if you are accepting and have time, could you do something about the girl reader having a relationship with six and being jealous of him with a girl agent or something like that? thanksss 💜

Jealous Reader | Six x Fem reader

word count: 757

a/n: ahhh thank you for writing this request! i loved writing for Six again! Yes i do take request so if you have any others let me know!! also you guys have no idea how happy it makes me that you enjoy my writing!

taglist: @rosecentury

“You're on another assignment aren't you” you spoke into the phone. Your apartment was cold when you walked in, the lights were off and you could see what was left of Courts rummaging around before he left in a hurry. The cabinets that held a safe with his weapons were left cracked open. 

“I'm sorry I didn't let you know before I left,” Court told you, “I didn't have time, they called me an hour ago, I'm already at the air base” You could hear chatter in the background, and one voice you knew all too well. You didn't want to say anything, not wanting to let him know about your jealousy. 

“Hey, baby I have to go…. Four and I need to get in the air” He told you. 

Four. The woman who always made you feel so inferior. You didn't do anything special, you were an art teacher at a high school, the same one that Six knew Claire attended. You met him five years ago when he first looked at good schools for Claire, as Fitzroy requested. He met you on a tour and he knew he wanted you in his life. You were playing with the kindergarteners during their art time and he could see how much life and light you had, he knew Claire would love you. Court also knew he would love to be with you, so he didn't ever stop his attempts at flirting with you. You finally accepted his offer of dinner and from that moment on you knew you were screwed. 

You were nothing special, but Court was fawning over you while that female agent had so much more potential than you. 

“Oh okay, stay safe Court,” you told him. You could feel him relax at your words, “Come home to me okay”

“I'll be home tomorrow” 

That night was filled with worry. You worried he did figure out that you were just some dumb art teacher and he could have someone as agile, smart, and lean as her. She, at one time, was a huge flirt around Court. You knew she still does even though the two of you were public with a lot of the other agents. Court couldn't keep his mouth shut, especially to Dani who was so happy for you two. That didn't stop Four from touching or flirting with Court on missions. Court made a point to let her know to stop, but she didn't care. You wondered how much he actually hated it.  You ended up falling asleep there on the couch, some random show running in the background. The cat you and Court shared slept soundly in your arms, nuzzled right where she loved to be. 

Court arrived home to a quiet space with you asleep on the couch. Your cat, Snuggie, was asleep in your arms, both soundly sleeping unaware that he had arrived back home. Court put his bags down at the end of the couch before walking over to you, petting Snug awake and a small meow escaped her lips at him. Your eyes blinked open, taking in the fact that Court was back. Every worry was out of your head. 

“Hey baby,” he said to you, and you smiled at him. “I know I'm back early” 

“What time is it” 

“9am,” he told you, kissing your forehead. You sat up slowly facing Court on the couch.

“Why?” you asked.

“I decided that you were more important than a celebratory drink with someone who doesn't listen to the world, no '' He told you, putting his hands out for you to take in your lap. Court was sitting in front of you, devoted and loving. “I should have cut that off sooner but I thought she would stop. On the mission it was worse than it had been so I called headquarters and told them to never send me on any assignments with her again”

“Court…im sorry"

“Why are you sorry? Darling it was her fault, not yours for rightfully questioning things. I was stupid to think she could change and see me as yours. You are my home, and I will always come home to you” He said, kissing you kindly and letting go of your hands to hold you close. 

“I love you Court”

“I will always love you y/n,” Court said to you. The rest of your week was spent together, watching movies, cooking, and cleaning. Court never went on another assignment with Four and both of you were better for it.

[renren-006]

Hello! I hope you’re well!

I’ve recently watched The Gray Man and was hoping you could do a Court x Reader one-shot!

Here is what I was wanted it to be about:

Court and Claire are living in an apartment complex in Romania and the reader is their neighbor. Let’s say in this the Lloyd is still alive and the reader is spying for him. Court has major trust issues because he’s trying to protect Claire, but the reader is able to trick them into thinking she’s just a friendly neighbor. They even have movie nights and dinner together sometimes.

The reader decides she can’t go through with letting Lloyd get to them. When she goes to see Lloyd and pretends she hasn’t made progress on finding them, he hits her over the back of the head and kicks her in the stomach/ribs repeatedly as punishment. She goes back to the apartment in Romania joins Court and Claire again for a movie night.

She has a really bad concussion, so she’s pretty off her game, but still put on the act for Court and Claire. During the movie, the reader stands up and feels really dizzy. She passes out briefly and when she wakes up she’s on the couch and Court is knelt down beside her. She’s really disoriented and tries get up. She cries out and grasps her ribs and Court makes her stay laying down on the couch. He looks at her ribs and stomach and asks her how it happened. He’s really sweet and caring, shushing her and telling her she’s okay and safe while checking her ribs for breaks and wrapping them.

The reader tells Court everything and Court becomes angry with her. She apologizes profusely and tells him that he and Claire need to get out of Romania. She passes out again and Court ends up caving and carrying her down to the car to go with them.

When she wakes up Court tells her this is her only second chance and she’s grateful that she doesn’t have to go back to Lloyd.

THATS A LOT! SORRY! If you don’t want to write it, that’s okay!

The Spy Next Door | Court Genry x Reader

word count: 1521

warning: violence towards female character

a/n: hey! i love your idea thank you for requesting it!! I did change the ending to make it fit more with the story and have a good flow!! if you want any more Court stories please let me know! i really hope you enjoy it!!

“Claire!” Court shouted down the apartment building hallway.

He had lost track of her in the winding stairs up to their floor. Claire's head pooped out from behind the door, with a grocery bag in her hand, matching the multiple in Court's hands. Court breath reflected from its hold as he fished around for the key to the door. The two of them had been living in an apartment complex in Romania for over six months.

You knew this because you had been here the same amount of time he showed up. Your conscience hated you for what you were involved in. Lloyd had you spying on Court, and you had the bruises around your thighs to prove that he was ruthless and didn't care why you were withholding information. You had gotten close to Court and Claire over those months and frequented their apartment for movie nights and dinners. You loved those nights spent on the couch in the dark, trying to act as if you didn't want to snuggle up to Court every time you sat next to him on the couch. Claire gave you smug looks every so often.

The difference between the two apartments was that your apartment was bare, filled with scattered around the room, and guns littering your kitchen tables. All loaded, none used. Your walls bore nothing but the old paint, and still you had skeletons in your closet not clothes. while Courts and Clairs were filled with art, photos, and books on the bookshelves. Claire's bedroom was painted a pretty pink and was covered with records, books, and of course medical supplies. Clouts was grey, a neat bed and neat walls filled with an old photo of his lost friend, and one of Court and Claire, both sitting on his mantle by the wall. Otherwise he was more conservative with his wall space.

Your apartment was so bare due to the overwhelming fears that kept you awake. Every shadow that passed through your window scared you at night. You didn't dare get comfortable if you got killed by Lloys or Court for what you were involved in.

Lloyd was on a mission, after what happened between him and Court last time they met you knew he had a vengeance that ended in death. Your head was already one he wanted and once Court figured it out he would never forgive you for the things you told Lloyd about him and Claire. Lloyd didn’t care at all about the girl just getting to Court, and so thought that meant if they got their hands on Claire, better leverage. You were trying your best to leave her out of it, just mentioning little things, Lloyd didn't like any of this and the hits on your body under your clothes were evidence to that. You loved Court, you had grown such strong feelings for him, and you knew if you let him in he might not like the person you were. Distance and saving him were the best things you could do for him and Claire.

It wasn’t until one Saturday at their house, and the looks Court gave you that you knew you couldn’t let them get hurt, and couldn’t keep living this life. You left early that night, using the flat iron plugged in as your excuse.

You left and headed to Llyod mansion he had time to play in. Your nerves were getting to you, running over the thoughts and ideas that were swarming your head.

“Ah, Y/N!” Lloyd's voice rang through the dining room. “What information do you have for me today”

“i…i can’t do this anymore” you told him, Lloyds face stayed neutral.

“What?”

“I can’t seem to get any more information out of them” you told Lloyd who gave you a questioning look.

“I see, you have feelings for him now don’t you” Lloyd said, “sympathizing with the man that ruined my life, my job, my career” You sprung back as he walked towards you. You tried to have courage but you just muttered out the real thing you wanted to say.

“ I can’t work for you anymore…this is too much”

“And to think you were my most loyal worker.”Lloyd said as he motioned for the men behind you to grab you, keeping you on your feet and in your place. He came over to you and punched you in the stomach making you feel like puking. Another strike and another came at you. “If you want to disobey, try to leave? I'll make you wish I'd killed you” Lloyd said.

You stumbled back to your apartment, barely conscious , brushed and beaten by Lloyd who said you were never free of him. You did in that moment wish he had finished the job so you didn't have to stumble, or walk back into the building you came to hate, and the neighbors door you wish you never had to see again.You made your way up the stairs, spotty vision and weak legs. Just your luck Court was walking outside his door when he saw you.

“Y/N?” he said, before you could respond your vision weekend and you lost control falling over, and thankfully into Courts now outstretched arms. Court was terrified, the woman he fell for and who lived across the hall from him just passed out on him.

Court lifted you off the floor and took you to his apartment. When you were placed on the couch and the buses made themself apparent to the man, he was furious. Who would do this to you? Why would they do this to you? the questions he had couldn’t be answered at the moment, so he had to wait till you awoke.

When you woke up it was already midday. Court sat on the chair next to you, asleep in his hand.

“Court?” You said, voice hoarse and dry. Court shot out of his sheet and crouched beside you. He was worried, and for the right reasons, you just didn’t know how to tell him about your other life.

“What happened?”He asked you.

“I…I've been lying to you” you told him, Court's expression changed. It wasn't a worry any more, it turned into caution and not for himself.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No, no I don't think so. The guy I work for has such a hatred towards you Court that I don’t think I can do what he has asked me to do” you told him, Court knew who you were talking about, and he hated that you were involved. “I’m scared”

“Did he do this to you?” That question was the only one that the Court wanted answered. He didn’t care if his life was in danger, he wanted to make sure yours was not.

“Yes” it was a relief telling Court about the other life, about the hatred this man had and about the abuse you went through. “I went after the movie, to tell him I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t work for him anymore”

“Y/N” Court said, “What did he ask you to do?”

“He wants you dead. He wanted me to become friends with you and tell him things about your life, about Claire's life. I gave him bits, never the whole truth. I never told him where Claire went to school and I said I never found out where you worked. I lied and lied because after a while I couldn’t stand the idea of hurting you, or losing you. I knew I was a goner, weather it was by telling you the truth and you hating me or being killed by Lloyd because i’m incompetent”

“I’m not going to kill you Y/N, but I am mad” Court said, grabbing your face. “I’m mad because if you had told me this was happening I would have done anything in my power to save you, and I will do that now too. If you had given him all that information, we would all be dead now. The only reason we are not, is because you’ve been lying to buy time, now that depends how much time we have not before we're all dead?” Court said, anger and relief flooding through his veins.

You tried sitting up but clutched your side and let out a yelp. your ribs were severely hurt and the bruises along your sides and front made you feel light headed. Court eased you back down. You passed out soon after that and was woken up by Court placing you in the seat next to him in the car. Claire in the backseat along with the piled of luggage from the two in the apartment but from yours as well. You glanced over at Court next to you.

“This is your only second chance” he said to you as you drove out of Romania. “Please trust me next time, tell me if your in trouble”

“I know. I will Court, thank you” you said. Court smiled and continued driving out of Romania back towards Europe, maybe Belgium will be nice this time of year

[renren-006]

The thought keeping my mind running at the moment is a Sierra Six x Sierra Seven blurb/quick one shot that's these two internationally known killers/spies/however we want to categorize them who can take out anyone flawlessly with no trace struggling to help Claire on some algebra homework or something. Like imagine these two trying to figure out how SAT prep works and how to use the quadratic formula, because I'm pretty sure there would be more frustration and absolutely confusion shared between the two of them than in this little teenagers mind.

Homework Problems | Sierra Seven x F! Reader

Word Count: 955 A/N: I really hope you like it! feel free to send me any request for myre Sierra Six stories id love to write them!!!

You were an international spy, not many things puzzled you. Today was when you learned that math was the one thing that would puzzle you. As you sat at the kitchen table next to Claire the numbers scribbled on the page were like a foreign language to you, and you knew many. 

“This...Claire what the hell is this” You asked, eyebrows furrowed together. Claire looked up at you with the most amused look on her face.

“Seven, this is...this is math,” Claire said, giving you a questioning look, “you do know..”

“Yes, i know what math is...I just haven't done it in a very long time”

“So you don't calculate an angle before you shoot?” Claire asked. 

“Claire be honest with me, do I look like I calculate things,” You asked. Claire thought for a moment before responding.  “When it comes to Six, yes,” She told you, glancing outside to the x-spy patiently waiting in the yard for Claire's dog, Fitz, to go to the bathroom.

“Besides Six,” I asked her, still looking back at the puzzling numbers on the page. 

“Umm I don't know, I mean when you and Six saved me it seemed like you did,” she told you, referring to the time you saved her and shot a guy just by looking into a mirror. You shook your head. 

“Honestly Claire Its muscle memory now, I fight because I know how to fight, this domestic life it’s different, its a new thing ill have to learn,” You told her honestly, “But this, me you, and Six that I know how to do that, but math and homework and school its all-new”

“I know,” She told you, “Thank you for being here for me”

“oh sweetheart, of course, I'm uh your mom now so I have got to take care of my family, and don't think Six doesn't check the house three times before we go to bed, just to make sure you safe,” You told her, “Now, tell me how to do this math”

“Well it's for this test called the SAT and I have to like solve it and find the answer” Claire explained after the smile left her face. 

“Textbook?” you asked. Claire nodded her head. 

“I have one” She exclaimed.

"Why don't you grab it,” You told her calmly

“Right,” She said and marched off to her room to find the math textbook. 

“Six?” You asked, Six strutted over to you his face lazy and he finally looked calm.  "Yes," he answered, a questioning look on his face.

“Do you know algebra?” You asked. 

“Not really, haven't done that in a few years,” Six said. 

“Well, Claire is studying for..the SAT I think and I have no idea what math is involved with it,” You told him. Six scratched his head.

“Shit i knew this was something we would have to do” He said.

“And this just slipped your mind?” You asked, He nodded.

“I was going to mention it but she never came to us...” Six replied a hand ran over his face and an exaggerated sigh left his lips.

“Wait, you're telling me, essentially our daughter didn't come to us for homework help?” You asked, “We are failing as parents Court,” You said. 

"Hey, y/n we are doing perfectly well under these....did you just say, parents?" He asked you.

"Well, I mean yea? Look at us Court? I care about Claire so much and all I want is a normal life for her and to not have to look over my shoulder anymore." you told him.

"I want that too," he said pulling you in. "Now, let's try and figure out these math homework things so that we can better help her," he said laughing and pulling away. Claire re-entered the room, with a knowing and happy look as she sat between the two of you.

"Now I have to solve this thing called the quadratic formula," Clair said flipping to the page with the unknown language you still wouldn't decipher.

"what the....Claire do you want my head to explode?" you asked her.

"haha I don't think Seven can comprehend math," Court said, laughing with Claire.

"And you can?" you ased your counter part.

"...no," he said, the silence before his answer made Clair bust out even more in laughter having tears spill from her eyes.

"Omg if I had known asking my parents to help with math would lead to none of us knowing I would have just gone to get tutoring," she said in between bursts of laughter.

"I'm sorry kiddo, I mean really I don't remember much math from that far back," you said, thinking back to the years when you were her age. You had been convicted of arson before graduating and math was the last thing on your mind in prison. You had met Court not too long afterward being around 20 or so, and math was the last thing on your mind at the academy.

"y and b.....wait why the hell are there letters I thought math was all numbers and shit?" Court asked Claire breaking you from your thoughts.

"oh...yea I guess they have letters as substitutes for numbers"

"that is not logical," Court said, he pushed the book away with a grumble, "You said you could go to tutoring?"

"Yea they have a tutoring center at school," she said.

"I think they will be better helped than us with this...quadrophonic equation shit"

"It's quadratic," she said snarkily.

"Whatever, it's bullshit," Court said with a grumble.

"Okay why don't we stop with math and move on to something else," you said directing the conversation away from the frustrations of math.

[renren-006]

right, your blog banner has inspired me to send in a request ✨ i’ve got an idea for a court gentry x reader fic based off of ‘you are in love’ by taylor swift. basically it’s like really cute moments between court and the reader throughout their relationship based on some of the lyrics to the song.

the start of the song. could perhaps be their first ever night together. “Coffee at midnight.” and “And your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch. But you felt enough” would maybe be their daily routines and such.

the second verse could be like i guess domestic moments between them and then the lyric about letting go of fears and ghosts could be court being more open and comfortable with the reader compared to the beginning of the relationship. there’s also a lyric in the bridge where it mentions keeping a pic of the subject in a office so i thought maybe that could apply for court keeping a polaroid of the reader (that claire took) when he goes on missions. if you could please make the fic really soft and fluffy that would be great

i’m sorry this is kinda long hahahaha but i just had to share the idea i had. keep up the great work! your fics are amazing :)

Loved | Sierra Six x Reader

warning: a litttleeee suggestive wording but other than that full love and fluff!

word count: 760

a/n: this is such a cute idea!! thank you for the request!! i really enjoyed writing this!! i’ll have to make another tag post for song story requests!! I love writing fluffy content but i also added a few...suggestive sentences because i coulden't help myself!!

(just like imagine it’s youuuu)

*Play "You are Loved" by Taylor Swift*

Small talk, he drives. Coffee at Midnight

When you both met it felt like a spark was ignited inside you. 

“Hi” a voice said behind you. Turning back you noticed a handsome face above you. Court stood there, taking a chance at love.

“Hello” you responded, Court took that as a welcoming sign to have him sit next to you. You two smiled at each other

When Court continued talking to you that night you knew maybe there was a change at some happy ending. When he offered to take you to his place you jumped out of the bar stool and happily obliged. You took him up on the offer of a coffee at his place when you two settled in. Soon after that coffee was forgotten. 

And your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch, but you felt enough. 

The morning routine was simple, bathrooms were shared between the two of you. Shoulders brushing in the morning as the two of you moved around the bathroom fiddling and getting ready. There was no proof to the Court or anyone outside of this bathroom that they had ever met, touched or loved. You felt it, the connection, the spark. You wanted it ignited between the two of you. Court couldn't admit it to himself yet. 

You keep his shirt, he keeps his word. And for once, you let go of your fears and your ghosts.One step not too much, said enough. 

Of course you kept Court's shirt, it was the only thing that kept you grounded when he was gone. You moved in a while after you met and fell hard for one another. You never asked questions, or bothered him about his scars, he would tell you about this other life he had when he was ready.

Court told you the minute he walked in that door after a mission. He still had a fresh cut on his forehead and he felt torn. He felt like the double life he was living needed to be a single one.  

“I…I work for the government, I do jobs for them. Hit jobs” he told you, moments after the door shut. He stumbled over his words, fear on his face. You were caught off guard eating in the kitchen when he stormed in the house. 

“I guessed you did something dangerous..” you told him trailing off. “I'm not leaving. Just because you have a dangerous job doesn't mean I'm going anywhere.” Court didn't say another word other than picking you up out of your chair and settling down on the couch, you in his lap, and just hugged you. The two of you stayed like that for hours, just holding one another. 

One night he wakes. Strange look on his face. Pauses then says “you're my best friend”. and you knew what it was he's in love

You were still up when Court rolled over to you. The book in your hand quickly forgotten by the look Court was giving you. 

“Baby?” you asked, worried he was having a stroke. You put your book down and laid beside him, the dim light from the moon giving your room a glow. He held your face. 

“You're my best friend,” he told you. As his hands stored your cheeks you cried. He loved you. It was clear in his words, his face, and his kisses he gave you. 

And he keeps pictures of you in his office downtown

Claire insisted on taking a picture of you that day. You were wearing a light blue dress, making you look angelic. You knew Court was leaving soon, and you wanted to look nice before swinging him off to his mission. Clair took a photo of you looking longingly at Court, she kept that one for her one jernal. 

The other one she gave to the Court. This one had you looking directly at the camera, full smile and a slight laugh to your face. He remembers that day like no other. How pretty you looked in the dress and how nice you looked at home without it. 

Court kept that photo in his wallet, keeping it with him on missions so he would always have your face to look at to remind him he was fighting to come home to you. He loved you. 

Cause you can hear it in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out. You are in love, true love. You are in love.

[renren-006]

Rematch | Sierra Six x F!Reader

Summary: a rematch between Lone Wolf and Sierra Six commences, but he's only thinking about protecting you

Word Count: 1457

Warnings: violence, fluff, blood, angst

A/N: this idea for a re-write of Lone and Six fightings was asked of me by an anonymous reader and I absolutely love the idea!! I hope I did it justice! there is a minor Six x reader included and I did that to add more to his need to save the reader...hope you enjoy it! 

Six knew from the very beginning that falling in love with you was totally a bad idea, but it happened anyways. You were Claire's caretaker, watching her most days and making sure she didn't have any trouble with her pacemaker. You were skilled in a lot of medical needs, like stitching up wounds for instance. When the few brake ins that did happen, you didn't think twice before shoving Six into a chair and stitching him up. Claire would watch from the doorway. She watched the way his eyes trailed your body, or how his hand would always come up to move your hair out of your face, even the small touches to your waist when you would dap his cuts. You felt the same feelings Six did, all the touches and glances led you to believe that this wasn't something simple between the two of you. You and knowing his line of work it scared you a little. Soon the two of you bit the bullet and got together, keeping it on the down low from anyone except for Fitz and Claire. So when Loyd's men came to take you and Claire, you figured he had no idea you meant so much to Six and just that you happened to be family to Fitz. 

He was also outraged when Fitz mentioned the two of you, Claire and yourself, being taken. Six was caught off guard sure, but the rage was the only thing he focused on. When he and Dani stormed the castle he was hell-bent on finding the three people in his life he cared for. While Dani went to distract the rest of the individuals in the house, Six tried his best to sneak inside. Six was angry, and he knew if anyone were to stand in his way, he would get aggressive. The house was quiet, almost too quiet. The doors opened to a small four and then the rounded stories. Six could see that the two sides, left and right, led to different hallways, he knew they wouldn't be downstairs and if anything would be kept in the further part of the upstairs. As Six crept up the stairs, trying to make as little nice a swoosh of air and a knowing tell of a man's boot sounded through the foyer.  A knife came flying through the air, almost hitting Six smack in the face. He glanced towards the wall that the knife was sticking out of then down at Lone Wolf who was waiting below the stairs. 

“Again?” Six quipped. Six knew that he could have passed through the halls unnoticed, but the man from the hospital had been so stealthy as to wait for Six to arrive that he had caught him. Six walked down the stairs meeting the Lone wold in the more fore. Six was still mad and knew that if this fight didn't stop at some point someone was going to end up not breathing. The two of them circled one another, Six dropping the gun he had in preparation for a hand-to-hand fight with the Lone Wolf. Lone signaled to Six to initiate the fight, something both wanted but neither wanted to start. Six wanted to end him, after the fight at the hospital and the multiple holes he had now because of him, he wanted to see him on the floor. Lone pulled out another knife, Six remembered his knife fighting from the hospital. Lone did his best to snag Six while they were fighting, Six did his best to dodge. Lone and Six kept up the fighting, Lone sliding while Six tried his best to evade and get the knife out of his hand. The martial arts techniques that both used made the fight seem more like a dance, the two hitting and jumping away, and one after another more blood pooled on the marble floor. While Lone fighting style included a bunch of kicks, sweeps, and throws Six was the opposite focusing on using his strength and evading techniques to win the fight. It didn't go over so well seeing as one would get hit in one area and followed by the other getting hit just opposite. Lone would switch out the knife style for basic martial arts and then throw the knife back into the fight

 Once Six got the knife out it was all hand to hand. Six had blood dripping down his cheek and Lone had a busted mouth from the battering Six had done. Both men were in immense pain and were tired of all the constant fighting that would happen. Six knew he was winning, could feel it and so could Lone Wolf. Lone passed around Six, wondering just what he could do to make this agent give up. When Lone threw his first punch Six dogged, another was thone landing right in Six stomach, making him hunch over. This continued Lane getting the upper hand and landing hit after hit. It didn't take long for Six to get back to eh swing of things and start his barrage of attacks again. This battle lasted a while Six glanced over at Lone with heavy breathing. These men were both tired and knew that they couldn’t keep going at this. 

“Wait!” Six said, huffing, Lone stopped, “He plans to kill you, not give you the money, I'm just here to save the people that were taken” he explained. Lone faltered, looking over at the agent with questioning eyes.

“The child?” Lone asked, hoping that these were the people he was talking about. 

“And her nurse” Six added without missing a beat. He missed her and knowing she was just upstairs was killing him. 

“Yours?” Lone inquired.

“Mine” Six responded confidently and assertively letting the other man know that if anything were to happen to you, he would mind going for another round. Lone nodded and started walking behind Six towards the stairs.

“They are this way” Lone said allowing Six to trail after him towards the room.

You heard three bodies drop in the hallway. Your sore cheek hurt as you clutched Claire to your chest while also watching Fitz doing his best to stand guard with his broken hand. When Six faces appeared in the doorway, and the stupid wink he did send your heart pounding, you jumped from behind the couch and ran into his arms. He draped the gun to the floor to be able to catch you and hold you close. You could see the blood and bruising that was on his face made you filter in his arms.

“I leave you for a month and you come back sporting cuts the size of rivers,” You said to him once he placed you back on the ground, “Makes me think your just with me for my nursing abilities”

“Maybe, but it's your smile that keeps me”, he said back, his eyes smiled down at your face which spread into the biggest smile he had seen in a while. His hand came up, covered in a short glove, and stroked your cheek.

“Who did this” Six asked worriedly. The bruise that was forming along your cheek and up the side of your face was bad. It was the only strike you had taken, seeing as the man that had taken you from your home.

“It's not important” You insisted, not wanting to think about the things Six may do to them.

“It is!” He insisted, wanting to know wherever had hurt you. 

“Well I don't know his name, you probably killed him already,” You said back, raising your voice. Six’s facial experiential dropped at your tone, not used to you being so aggressive. You were often soft-spoken and kind, and having to care for Claire meant you had a motherly attitude most of the time.  “Can we just go home?” you asked him after watching his face change. You ran a hand over his face, watching him melt under your touch. He was glad you were safe and with him because if he had found you in any worse shape more bodies would be piled up. Six nodded, he wanting nothing more than to see you out of harm's way. Once Six had dealt with Loyd and the CIA agent Suzanna you were sent to live with Claire at a secure location. You were trapped in a room for weeks, only being let out to eat and go outside for fresh air. When Six came to get you, he looked put together. You smiled up at him.

“Let's get out of here, hm?” He asked taking the two of you away from the CIA facility and onto another adventure.

A/N: I really hope you liked it and anyone that wants to send me a request is more than welcome to!! Towards the end of August, however, I won't be posting as often as college starts but I will try. 

TagList: @blackberries45​ 

(let me know if you would like to be added)

[renren-006]

Far away | Sierra Six x F!Reader

Summary: After being away for so long, Six wants to appreciate you

Paring: Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x F! Reader

Word count: 1544

Rating: Mature, 18 + Only, AU, smut, angst

A/N: Ummm omg thank you to everyone who liked the first one I did. I decided to write another to heal my heart. I hope you like it!!! 

Dedicated to all my Sierra Six, Ryan Gosling lovers

The apartment was colder than usual. Missing the heat from your fireplace but also missing the source of comfort you had come to be used to, your lover. The couch you sat on felt more like your friends, not truly yours. He had bought the couch of course so sitting there felt like the closest you were going to get to him for now. He had left in the middle of the night. His phone, keys, wallet, and even one of the spare gun you know he keeps in the closet was missing. You didn’t try to call, unsure of how safe it would be to do that.  Even now you wished you could call, just to hear his voice again after a month of him being gone. You knew he would come back, how could he not he did marry you? 

The two of you had met while he was on a mission. You however were in Paris on a holiday just soaking up the weather of Europe, as well as the pastry smells. You couldn’t remember what cover story he had told you at the time, only that he was strikingly handsome.  The two of you sat at that cafe in Paris for what felt like hours. You were the one that talked most of the time, letting him use the few words he seemed to have when you asked for his opinion or thoughts. While he was a man of few words he did strike you as the time to do other things instead of using talking.

 When the two of you had met back up in the States he took you on a date, a picnic. At first, you thought it funny, a man like him taking you out to eat on a picnic, but now that you knew what he did for a living you understood the hesitancy to take you on a real date in public. These dates happened a lot, him surprising you at your door only to take you out for a picnic with a home-cooked meal he made. 

Thinking back on the small meetings and the glances between the two of you helped the coldness of your heart settle. As the coffee in your hand warmed your stomach the rest of the house stayed cold. You didn't feel the need to turn on the fireplace, that was his thing to do. Weeks of him being away felt like too long. He often left for jobs but would return within a week or two, pampering you with kisses telling you how much he missed you or missed seeing you under him. Now, those words felt like ice, chilling your heart even more. 

The locks clicked. You glanced over at the door. The lights were off, only the lamp beside you shed any light into the glim apartment. There in the doorway stood your husband, ring glistening from the chain around his neck. You didn’t move, not at first. The light from the apartment hallway cast his shadow into the dimly lit home, you wanted it to be real, see his face and not just a shadow. For a moment you thought it was just your mind until the door shut, bags were dropped and he slowly walked over to you. The light finally caught on his face and seeing the different healing scratches and bruises made you burst into tears. Six stumbled over to you catching you in his arms.  

“Hunny?” He asked the softness of his voice rang through the apartment. Warmth suddenly filled the home you had been housed inside for a month. His hands combed through your hair. The tattoo on his hand caught your attention, drawing you out from inside your mind. 

“You left,” You said matter-factly. He nodded his head. 

“I didn’t want to, but they called in the middle of the night,” He told you, his other hand moving over his face, a nervous habit he had picked up. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” The hurt in your voice was ever apparent to your crouching husband who only wanted to see you smile again. He was gone a month, having finished the job only a few days prior but wanted to make sure he didn’t have a tail when he did head home. 

“Didn’t want to scare you”

“Scare me? Baby, it was scarier waking up knowing you went out there to kill someone or hijack some other mission, without a word or note saying sorry or I love you or be back soon..” Your rambled face was clearly distressed by the action your husband had caused, “Court you promised when we got married you would stop lying to me about what you do. I'm happy I know, makes me sleep better, but leaving without a word…that…I haven't been able to move”

“I’m sorry Hunny, I’m so sorry,” He said putting his hands around your waist and his head lending in your lap, he hugged your middle. Court Gentry did not cry, but here he was melting into your touch wishing he could. “Hunny I wanted to call but if they traced it and someone found you…I would never forgive myself”

“No one has found us, me, yet,” You told your husband, trying to calm the nerves you knew he must feel. He always had been protective, even before you got married. 

“What if they do?” He asks, looking up at you with tired eyes. You brushed your hand through his dirty blond hair, wanting to pull him in.

“Then we figure it out together” Yous supplied. “Come on baby let's get you cleaned up” pulling the tired man up from the living room floor.  You pulled him twords your shared bedroom and to the adjacent bathroom. After pulling off his clothes, and your’s well, you stepped under the stream letting the heat from the water warm you. When Court was finally inside the shower you grabbed his hand towel and coated it in soap and washed his body for him. Every flex of his mussel you could feel from under the rag, made your core heat up. Court noticed your look, the one of pure lust. You both had missed each other for too long and prolonging the inevitable was never his thing. His hands found your waist, rubbing circles into them. You shutter under his touch, the towel now forgotten on the shower floor. His hands roamed your body making you shutter even more under his touch. Court Gentry would do anything to make you feel good, and that was his mission tonight. He wanted you to feel how much he loved you, missed you. 

All thoughts went out the window the minute Court’s hands were on you. The roughness of his palms sliding over your smooth skin, the heat of the water falling off your back. His hands pushed you back against the tile of the shower wall, coxing your body to mold under his touch. You could feel your back arching into his hands, wanting more of him. His hands did their job, coxing your body to let out a moan. He knew all he had to do, was get you all wet and ready for him. He left you up, straddling his waist still up against the shower wall. His hands fingered your core, sending shock waves through your system. Straggled moans and his name left your lips, still wanting more. When you were ready, he finally filled you up letting your headrest agents the wall before his slow movements started. He went slow at first letting you take him in, then his pace quickened letting your orgasm come crashing over you. When the first one hit, Six didn't stop, no he wanted you to feel everything, and that meant to ride you out till you couldn’t orgasm again. Every missed moan, touch, and orgasm had Six reeling at that moment, wanting to wash away the sweat of the job with just you. You became his relief, finally knowing he was home. As your second orgasm came crashing over, so did his, filling you up inside and letting the sounds of your mouth fill his heart. The kisses he left on your body would stay there for a while, hoping they would never leave our skin. You wanted a constant reminder of him, whether that was on your skin, or inside. The two of you road yourselves out till the moans turned into struggled cries. He knew you were done, exhausted from the ride he gave you. He let you down, letting the hot water wash away the rest of his liquid. Once out of the shower he dried you off, taking special care of his girl. You loved it, watching him take care of you as you struggled to stand. He whisked you off after, throwing one of his shirts on you and tucking you into bed, sleep caught up to you as his now clothed self snuggled into your side.

“I love you forever, however far away I am” Court muttered into your ear. It was distant when you heard it, but that one thing allowed you to feel safe again and curled up into him to sleep for an eternity.

A/N: 

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