#she never felt safe enough to just waltz into her grandmother’s room and talk about random things

[pergaminaa]

Manon would have doubts about being a good mother to her little witchling. It’s a feeling that never goes away and she terrified of acting like her grandmother because it’s literally the only thing she knows.

She’s aware that what her grandmother did was no way to be around a child. This, and the fact that Manon is a good person with a lot of repressed love, was why she is nothing like her grandmother. But she doesn’t see it that way. She is haunted by her past and her own nightmarish childhood. She hangs on every mistake, wonders if she could have said something better— wonders if her witchling is better off being around Dorian more than her (because she believes that she will do some irrecoverable damage to her, and the thought literally keeps her up at night)

Dorian is there to always assure her that she’s nothing like her grandmother. He hates that after so long without her, she still has her clutches around Manon, ensuring that her voice is the only thing leading Manon.

He knows that she isn’t like her at all. And he will never tire of reminding her of it every single day.

This has become easier with their witchling getting older. Now, he can easily just point at the toddler, who would be in various positions on their bed at night ‘because I get bad dreams in my bed and only get good dreams in your bed’ as she would argue.

He notices how the witchling is casual about it. She comes into their room, climbs up their bed, plops down next to her mom while holding on to something so that she doesn’t get carried to her room (toddler logic). To Dorian, this display alone is enough.

He tells Manon that if she was anything like she thinks she is, their witchling wouldn’t be feeling this safe around her. She is always around her mother, following her around and preferring to stay with her as opposed to playing with the other children. If their witchling is feeling unsafe, she wouldn’t be doing any of that.

“Look at her,” He points at the sleeping child in their bed once again. Her head is resting on Manon’s stomach, while she almost hogged her mother all to herself.

“You’re doing great with her, witchling,” He winks. Adding a little playfulness while being serious.

The Blackbeak Matron killed her own daughter and almost killed her granddaughter. Manon is nothing like her, and he will never tire of reminding her of that.

Because even the formidable Queen of the Witches needs a gentle reminder from time to time.

[janetbrown711]

“I just really miss talking to you.” Wakko dot

A week had passed since the funeral, and the warner siblings could feel the ticking clock on when they expected their grandmother to strike everywhere they went. She hadn’t done anything in so long, it was highly suspicious. 

However, there simply wasn’t anything they could do anymore. their parents were dead, simple as that. Whatever protection they had before had now evaporated into thin air-

Well, unless you were Yakko, who was determined now more than ever to be his sibling’s shield and protector from their grandmother. He swore an oath to himself he’d never let anything bad happen to either Wakko or Dot ever again- not if he had any say in it. He was their guardian now, simple as that. 

The queen seemed to understand this somehow, as she summoned Yakko to the throne room for a private discussion. Regarding what, she wouldn’t say. Reluctantly, Yakko left his sibs alone in the playroom and met with his grandmother. 

“Yakko,” she nodded at him, still wearing the veil. 

“Grandmother,” He said coldly. 

“A short temper will get you nowhere in life, even you ought to know that by now,” she shook her head disapprovingly. 

“I’ve summonsed you to inform you that Angelina will be beginning her lessons with me by this time tomorrow, right after yours are finished,” The old queen said.

“What? But she isn’t even five yet, she’s not old enough for schooling,” Yakko protested. “And what about Wakko? You still haven’t started his tutoring and he’s eight, should he be your focus?” 

“I don’t educate wild animals,” she brushed it off. “And as for Angelina being too young, that’s ridiculous. A lady is never too young to get some manners in her.”

“It’s only been a week since Mom and Dad-”

“Died, yes, I’ve been plenty patient,” She nodded to herself.

“Patient-?” Yakko stepped back in bewilderment at her self-assurity. 

“Are you really questioning me?” She raised an eyebrow from behind the veil- or at least, Yakko assumed she did. With how thick it was impossible to tell, but it seemed something she’d do. Yakko shook his head. 

“No, grandmother,” he looked at the ground. 

“Head up, Yakko, you’re a prince for crying out loud,” she scolded, and he obeyed. 

“So...?” he asked quietly. The queen sighed, annoyed. 

“So Angelina begins her lessons tomorrow, and I expect you to make that known to her.” she declared. 

“Right... okay,” He knew better than to fight with her any bit more than he already had. 

“Oh, and one more thing I forgot to mention: I’m separating yours and Wakkorotti’s rooms,” She said. 

“Wh-what? Why? What harm does us sharing rooms do?” Yakko did his best to sound in control. 

“Wakkorotti is a distraction for you and Angelina. It is my duty as queen to prepare you for the throne, and for her to become a lady, and part of that si separating you from the filth... though if you’d prefer I move him to the tower, that is an option I’m more than willing to take,” She smirked. Yakko growled. 

“No, that’s fine,” he said. 

“Good,” she smiled. “Run along then. I expect her to be there as soon as our lesson is over. No later, no earlier, understood?”

“Understood,” he nodded begrudgingly.

The moment Yakko was safe to tear his grandmother’s arms off, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“Good. You are dismissed,” she waved her hand, and Yakko left the throne room.

So... great. Another thing for him to worry about.

Dot wasn’t even five yet, but now she was going to be exposed to her grandmother’s influences. Yakko just hoped she wouldn’t start acting like he did when he started taking lessons- he still couldn’t believe it took seeing her hit Wakko to snap him out of being a total jerk. Sure- he was only eight at the time, but still. It was bad.

He really hoped Dot would be different.

And Wakko... how on earth was he supposed to tell him that? It’d sound like Yakko didn’t want him anymore- which wasn’t good. Of course, he could always blame the queen- it was her fault really- but that could get him mad which he also doesn’t want.

Was this how his parents had felt 24/7? if so, Yakko felt really bad for them, all those times he insisted on knowing or just plain making problems worse.

A wave of numbness washed over him, and Yakko tried to suppress it as he entered the playroom once more.

“Yakko! We’re playing Dragon Princess,” Dot grinned up at him.

“Oh? And what’s that?” Yakko sat down on the floor next to them.

“It’s a game where you’re either a dragon or a princess, and if you guess wrong, the dragon eats your face,” Wakko grinned, showing him the doll. Yakko snorted.

“Sounds fun,” He chuckled.

“So... what did grandmum want?” Wakko asked cautiously. Yakko sighed.

“Dot, you’ll be beginning lessons with grandma tomorrow, right after my own end. And Wakko... you’re moving bedrooms.”

“What? Why?” both said in unison.

“Well... I started lessons with grandma when I was five,” Yakko decided to address Dot’s questions first.

“That’s not fair, Wakko doesn’t take lessons,” She frowned and crossed her arms.

“Yeah! Why don’t I get lessons?” he huffed and copied his sister’s motion.

“Wakko, you don’t even like her. Why would you want lessons?” Yakko pointed out.

“Well- I... uh...” Wakko came up blank.

“She’s mean, I don’t wanna,” Dot turned up her nose. 

“Dot, you don’t have a choice,” Yakko said. “Bad things happen when we disobey her, remember?” 

Dot paused at that, making eye contact with Wakko. She lowered her head. 

“Okay...” she mumbled. 

“What about me? Why do I have to move rooms?” Wakko frowned. 

“It’s out of my control, Wak. I wish I could explain, but you know how she is...” Yakko sighed, figuring that was the best way he could explain without hurting Wakko further. 

“But I like sharing a room with you...” Wakko’s tail twitched. “It’s a lot less lonely.”

“I know Wak, I like sharing a room too,” Yakko opened his arms, and Wakko hugged him. “But this just isn’t in our control... it’ll be better than the tower at least.”

Wakko nodded, and Dot looked even guiltier than before. 

“That place sucks,” He said. 

“I bet, from what I’ve heard,” Yakko patted his head.  

“...I’ll miss you,” he sighed. 

“Hey, it’s not like you’re moving across the country. You can still stop by my room any time- I’m even sure that if we’re extra careful and quiet, we could all organize a sleepover some time,” Yakko winked, and his sib’s faces lit up.

“That sounds faboo!” Wakko grinned.  

“Yeah! That sounds fun,” Dot grinned too. 

“Alright, alright, I hear you two,” Yakko chuckled. “I’ll figure out a time... hopefully when she most certainly wouldn’t notice...” he said that last part to himself mostly. 

And so it was settled. Dot was to begin her lessons, and Wakko was to get a room of his own, a little bit away from Yakko and Dot’s. So far it wasn’t so bad... right? 

A few months passed, and Dot began her lessons. It was pretty obvious that she had a strong distaste for them, but it was also very clear that despite being just shy of five, she still understood the consequences of her actions. Yakko couldn’t say he was happy at that though... 

She wasn’t even five. She should have time to be a little kid, play wild games, and make mistakes, not bottle everything up in attempts to be the perfect princess their grandmother wanted her to be. 

Yakko did his best to encourage her wild side, but he knew just how badly they’d get in trouble so despite desperately wanting to try and undo what she was trying, there was nothing they could really do. 

This really sucked. 

Yakko missed his parents tremendously when he thought like this, so he tried not to dwell. Instead, he focused on planning that sleepover for Dot’s fifth birthday, which he was actually looking forward to. 

Though it’d be the first birthday they’d celebrate without their parents...

No... he shouldn’t focus on that. They were together, they were safe. This was a day of celebration- a day they were all going to sneak together and celebrate as much as they could. Plus, if he got one of the cooks to agree, he could even get him and his sibs a mini cake they could split, which would be fun. 

And luckily he did. Quietly and carefully, he brought the dessert to his room and Wakko and Dot were thrilled. They sang, played a few games, and talked and talked and talked and talked. They didn’t have any presents to give her, but Dot was fine with just their company. 

Truthfully, the lessons had done quite a bit to isolate the sibs, so being able to just hang out again felt really good- for all of them, despite what was weighing on their minds. It didn’t matter they didn’t really have much to discuss outside of lessons- they just missed being together that much. 

“-It’s not all bad- I get to wear big skirts, and I get taught how to dance- like this!” Dot sprung up from her bed and began to waltz, and it wasn’t too shabby. At the mention of the lessons though, Wakko frowned and looked at the floor. 

“That’s not too bad Dot,” he complimented her, and she beamed before running up onto the bed again. 

“I think it’s stupid,” Wakko mumbled. 

“Wakko, that’s rude,” Yakko frowned. 

“It’s true,” He huffed. 

“Dancing is quite the skill- I know for a fact that I’m a terrible dancer- grandma gave up on teaching me years ago,” he snorted. Wakko raised a knee and leaned against it. 

“Wakko, what’s wrong?” Yakko frowned.

“I just... I wanna learn too,” he mumbled. 

“But you hate-”

“I know I hate her, Yakko.” he snapped. “It’s just-... I miss talking to you two about things I know. You keep talkin’ about history and dancing or whatever... I wanna learn too.”

Wakko’s words hit Yakko like a slap in the face. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you felt that way sooner Wak,” he apologized. Wakko shrugged. 

“I just-... I know she thinks I’m stupid... a-and you keep telling me I’m not, a-and I want to believe I’m not, but... I don’t know things. She won’t give me a chance... even though I’d probably screw it up,” Wakko sighed. 

“Wakko... you aren’t stupid, and you don’t need grandma to teach you to prove otherwise,” he placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Still... it’d be nice... I can barely even read,” he muttered, and Yakko felt another wave of guilt. 

He had forgotten Dad had been teaching Wakko to read while he was at his lessons before the attack, and that Wakko was slow, but eventually getting a grip. He should’ve remembered- he should’ve continued. 

“I can teach you, if you want,” Yakko offered.

“Me too! We can help each other,” Dot grinned. 

“R-really?” Wakko blinked. 

“Of course, Wak, what are siblings for?” Yakko teased and poked him with his elbow, which made him laugh. 

“And I can teach you other stuff too! Like waltzing and tea parties and manners- though that’s kinda boring...” Dot thought about it. 

“I like tea parties,” Wakko said, and Dot grinned. 

“Okay,” She said. 

“And I’ll help teach you what I know- it can be our little secret,” Yakko winked at his sibs. 

“Right. No telling Grandma,” Wakko did a ‘lips are sealed’ motion, and Dot copied. 

And so it was decided, Yakko and Dot would try to give Wakko lessons of his own, with varying degrees of success. However, it brought the sibs closer together, and they hadn’t been caught yet, so for the first time in a little while, things felt... in control. 

Not good by any means, but a routine had been formed, and nobody had gotten hurt yet, and Yakko was determined to keep it that way for as long as possible. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

[twilightofthe]

(Reposting the entire ask cuz it won’t show up in the fuckin’ tags and I need attention tf)

(Sorry anon, @duchess-of-mandalore ur prompt is here now lol)

So I see great minds think alike! And dawww thank you, this is such a sweet ship to write for, I have so much fun whenever I get the opportunity!

Since two people asked for the same thing, I sat on these prompts for a hot minute so I could come up with the best one!  It is Very Blatantly Anastasia-inspired but I love that movie so much so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (holy shit this is the longest one yet whOOPS I am not joking this is like a full fic size lol I might put it on ao3)

Obitine 10 - Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?

This is a universe in which Obi Wan’s family didn’t give him to the Jedi as a baby.  They’re still not very well off at all, but maybe this time they try instead to seek better fortunes for the whole family, so off they go into the galaxy for a new life, and after a few years end up on Mandalore as refugees in Sundari.

At this point and time, let’s say the Duchess on the throne is Satine’s grandmother, and through a series of good fortune, Obi Wan’s family gets a gig where they can deliver things from the docks to the royal palace.  Obi Wan’s about eight by this time, so as the eldest, he’s to go with his father to help with the deliveries when necessary.  He’s got Special Gifts, though-- sometimes things break when he’s upset, he knows how to make some heavy things float if he thinks about it hard enough, and when other people are really excited or sad or something, Obi Wan can feel that too --and his parents have both stressed to keep that part of himself quiet on a place like Mandalore, here they only know Jedi can do those tricks, and the Jedi and Mandalore are enemies, so Obi Wan must be very careful, especially around the palace.

They’re running busy with extra deliveries for a celebration for the Duchess’s granddaughter who is coming to stay with her, when Obi Wan slips up for the first time in his life.  He’s struggling to push a heavier crate out of the speeder while his father goes around to talk to one of the palace staff, when the repulsors levitating it fail.  The crate is clearly marked fragile and Obi Wan knows they’ll get less money if they break something, and he doesn’t even mean to do it, he just thinks, and his hand is jerking out to raise the crate high over his head and has it settling gently down with the rest.

A gasp behind him has him whirling around and realizing he’s been caught.  It’s another kid around his age, long blonde hair done up in twin buns and flowing down in pigtails (Sailor Moon, I am breaking story to stress that baby Satine had Sailor Moon hair because it’s adorable and I must say it).  Wide blue eyes are staring back at him, and he feels a chill run down his spine as he’s asked how he just did it.

He starts talking, quickly, please don’t tell anyone, he promises he’s not dangerous, not a Jedi, he’s just helping his father--

Satine cuts the strange boy off.  When she had decided to run to hide from her tutors today, a child her age who could do magic tricks was not what she was expecting to find.  This seems much more fun than Mandalorian history.  She had never really minded the Mean Scary Jedi from the stories, much to her parents’ chagrin, and their powers had seemed interesting, so she says that she won’t tell anyone about his tricks-- as long as he teaches her how to do that.

She has to comfort him again when his face crumples and he protests that he doesn’t know how, and she changes to promise him she won’t tell as long as he agrees to play with her.  This is the first boy she’s met who isn’t one of her parents’ snobby friends’ kids she has to be nice to, or one of her annoying cousins who like to hurt when they playfight like Pre; she’s always wanted a friend before and this one doesn’t even seem to know who she is since he hasn’t started with all the bowing and the “milady-ing” that everyone else around her does.  

He seems much happier at this arrangement, or at least really doesn’t want her to tattle on him, so he promises he’ll be right back, he just needs to ask his father if he can play.  Something makes him pause, turning and asking her who she is, exactly.  Satine falters, realizing that if the boy knows she’s Lady Kryze of Kalevala, he might be too afraid to play.

Obi Wan is amused when the girl replies her name is Sabine, and her grandmother works in the palace, because of course that’s her name.  The folk heroine S’Tiin or S’Biin, depending on who you ask, is such a famous story around here, it seems like everyone on Mandalore wants to name their eldest daughters Satine or Sabine-- even the Duchess’s granddaughter is named Satine.  Her dress is very fine, a deep, pretty green, and Obi Wan asks if her grandmother works making dresses.  Sabine hesitates and says that no, but her grandmother is in charge of bossing the tailors around, so she can get nice things.  Obi Wan nods, figuring her grandmother is some staff overseer like the bossy men at the docks that tell his parents where to bring things.

Sabine asks him his name, and Obi Wan tells her, only for her to wrinkle her nose and ask if she can call him something else; he doesn’t look like an Obi Wan.  Bemused, he asks her what he looks like.  She says he looks like a Ben.  Obi Wan has never had a friend before, so he shrugs and says sure, she can call him Ben.  Sabine beams.  He likes making her smile.

She asks him if he can do cartwheels.  He can, and demonstrates them for her.  She smiles wider, and he really likes making her smile.  She asks if he can teach her how.

They practice cartwheels and handstands and chasing each other throughout the crates, until Sabine sees palace guards coming out and hisses for him to hide under one of the crates with her.  He asks why, and she pauses for a moment before saying that they don’t like the palace kids going outside unsupervised.  After this, Obi Wan is getting ready to meet his father again, and she grabs his hand, asks him if he’ll come back to play with her again.

Obi Wan really likes having a friend.  He tells her the truth, that his family makes the deliveries about once a week.  He promises to meet her again then.

Satine hasn’t felt so free, hasn’t had a true friend in forever.  She is unrepentant when she is caught and scolded for running off by the adults, and makes sure to be extra good in her lessons so she can wait for the next week to sneak off and meet Ben to play again.  She feels guilty for lying to him about her and her grandmother, but she doesn’t want things to be weird between them, and people often are weird around the Duchess’s granddaughter.

They meet to play once a week for about a year; Obi Wan telling Sabine about his family’s adventures around the galaxy and how he wishes they weren’t so poor, and Satine tells Ben in the vaguest terms of why she was sent away from her family because her home was not safe, how her little sister is somewhere else entirely, how she misses them.  Both become one of the most important people in the other’s life in a very, very short time.

Everything changes the night of the Grand Ball.  Obi Wan tells Sabine excitedly over sandwiches she smuggled out of the kitchens that his family were offered extra money by the palace to help on the inside and serve the many guests that will be arriving from all over the galaxy.  She replies that she will be at the ball too, and her parents will be visiting and she’s excited to see him, though he feels she’s acting a bit funny over the whole thing.  Sabine assures him she’s not, and offers to teach him a waltz step.  She’s elegant and graceful and very pretty; sometimes it feels like he’s friends with a fancy princess, not another servant girl.

Satine is a little worried now that Ben will be upset she lied to him, as he will definitely figure out she’s third in line for the throne at the party.  Her parents are coming in from Kalevala, even if Bo Katan will not be there-- a shame, Satine misses her, and they will all be standing by her grandmother as royal family members.  Still, she feels that maybe it will be okay; Ben is her friend!  She’ll show her grandmother that he knows how to dance, and maybe her grandmother will let her marry him when she’s older-- Satine has not told Ben that she plans to marry him one day, but that’s alright, she has time to win him over.

The night of the ball, Obi Wan messes with his carefully brushed hair and fidgets in the slightly too big serving clothes handed to him and his parents by palace staff as they arrive and change and prepare to set things up.  He looks around for Sabine, but he doesn’t see her amongst the servants.  This disappoints him, he was hoping to introduce her to his parents.  He thinks they’ll like her a lot.  He hopes maybe her family will like him too.  Satine dresses in her prettiest sky blue dress with a matching opal tiara and braids her hair into a crown over her head; maybe tonight Ben will see her and call her pretty.

The party is in full swing and Obi Wan is a little worried; he still hasn’t found Sabine yet, so he’s been sticking to his mother’s side and serving food to sentients and species he’s never seen before.  The royal family has yet to appear, but Ben’s more worried that Sabine is sick; did something happen to her?

Satine stands in formation outside the hall with her parents and her grandmother and her other aunts and uncles and cousins.  They raise their heads high, the doors open, they begin their procession through the room as the musical fanfare swells--

And shots are firing and transparisteel is exploding in showers as the all-windows ballroom is broken into from all sides by masked figures with jetpacks and a rain of blasters.  Satine has exactly one second to see her father turn, reaching for his concealed sidearm, before he is shot and topples.  Her mother’s scream sounds in her ears, but the woman is already drawing her own blaster to cover her grandmother and her grandmother is shoving Satine down under the newly made corpse and telling her to play dead until the whole thing is over.  It still smells like her father.  She doesn’t move a muscle as more blasterfire and screams echo around the room, and then the body above her is shaking with what seems to be more shots, and is being lifted off of her, and Satine doesn’t have time to raise a hand and cry out before her wrist is being seized and a masked figure holding-- holding a sword made of glowing black light?  Is that the Dark--? is grabbing her and towing her out of the room.  She sees far too many dead bodies amongst the smoke.  She recognizes all of her family members amongst them.

Obi Wan and his mother had avoided the first round of attackers by hiding under a table, but as soon as they made a break for it to frantically search for his father, his mother goes down.  Horrified, he tries to kneel next to her, but she looks him in the eye, and breathes out to find his father, run, take the service tunnels they took to get in here.  Obi Wan knows how to deal with heartbreak even in this life, so, dying along with her, he lets go of her hand, forces himself to turn away and make a run for the tunnels.  Along the way, he trips over his father.  He’s not moving either.  

Obi Wan Does Not Think About It besides a cruel sense of relief, that knowing his wife had died likely would have killed his father anyway.  He keeps running, is small and fast and can avoid the masked soldiers in the darkness as the power fails, and is almost to the end of the tunnel, when he hears a familiar voice crying out.

Sabine.

Picking up speed, he bursts out of the tunnel to see his friend in a fine but bloody dress struggling in the grip of a masked figure with the strangest sword Obi Wan has ever seen.  The figure resists even as she kicks him in the shin, and while Obi Wan is running, he will not get there fast enough as the figure picks her up and begins to lift off in a jetpack.

Sabine’s eyes meet his, he can hear her screaming his nickname.

He doesn’t think.

He feels the power surging in his gut and reaches out in fright towards the figure flying away, not focused on anything more than for fate or someone to please not take Sabine away too.

The figure’s jetpack sparks, sputters, stops working, spiraling down to one of the platforms in a crash.  Obi Wan watches in horror as Sabine is flung out of their arms and skids across the platform to a stop, their fancy black sword vanishing back into its hilt and sliding in the same direction as her.  The armored figure themself is not as lucky, tumbling over the side of the platform in the other direction and plummeting down at least ten stories for their jetpack to explode upon impact at the bottom.

Obi Wan tears over to Sabine, who is laying very, very still, a large, bloody lump on her forehead.  Obi Wan is about to break down because no, not her too, but he can see the fluttering of her chest moving, and he can smell the palace beginning to burn behind him, and he does not hesitate in scooping her up and throwing her over his shoulder-- like they would do when they roughhoused, except now she is not shrieking in laughter and beating on his back for him to put her down --and last minute pocketing the hilt of the strange sword.  He sees a nearby speederbike and gently settles her in front of it and tears off, saltwater streaming down his own face.  

He’s never driven before, but he knows the way after a year of deliveries, and he takes them straight home to his family’s tiny apartment by the docks, locks the door, and drags Sabine under his parents’ bed to hide with him like the children they both are.  No matter what he does, she will not wake up.  While sirens wail outside, and the radio he leaves on reports everyone at the palace dead including the entire royal family, and the new leadership run by what is being called the Death Watch Junta, he lets himself cry, for her, for his family, for her own, for everything.

Sabine wakes up a full day later.

She doesn’t remember a thing.

Obi Wan is horrified.

She just remembers fuzziness and faint flashes of memory, of cold older figures, of a warm sunny room, painted wings on a canvas, the name Ben and bright silvery eyes that stare back at her now.  The boy tells her her name is Sabine, she lives in Sundari, Mandalore, and-- here he stutters --she is an orphan, like him.  Their families had all attended a party at the palace, where Sabine lived, but then bad people attacked, and they were the only ones to escape.

Sabine nods, this all lining up in her empty brain.  She has no true connection to these people who raised her, and yet, she cries for their loss anyway.  The boy says his name is--

Ben, she cuts him off, connecting the one name in her memories to the boy in front of her.

Obi Wan hesitates, about to tell her his real name, the one his parents gave him-- his parents who are dead and gone.  He nods, yes, he says, you called me that.  Ben Kenobi.  

Sabine asks if she has a last name.  Ben hesitates, says no, she never gave him one.  She cocks her head pensively, analyzing him.  Could I use yours?

He flushes, knowing only married men give women staying with them, their wives, their names, or they take the woman’s.  But still, it’s not like he has any other family now.

He agrees.

Two days later, using some credits stashed in Ben’s parents’ safe for emergencies, Ben and Sabine Kenobi make their way off Mandalore as workers on a cargo freighter.  Sundari holds too many bad memories for Ben, and the taunting of memories out of reach for Sabine.

Ben remembers Sabine’s distraught face, feels the hilt of the strange blacklight sword stuffed down the side of his pantleg, remembers how he couldn’t protect her, how she has no memory because of him.  How she still trusts him anyway.  

He will not let anything happen to her again.

And thus they live for the next decade, literally living hand to mouth and not having a single clue what the next day will bring.

Sabine remembers a grandmother, remembers her having fiery red hair and a stern voice, her mother’s eyes were blue like hers, remembers odd strands of music and lilies in a garden.  She remembers the story told to her of the Darksaber, which she doesn’t have a clue why someone holding it would be after her like Ben tells her.  She agrees he should hold onto it though, because from the little she remembers, it was never good news for Mandalore, and since Ben has Jedi powers, it’s best he keeps it for their defence.

Defence and safety is a slight issue for them.  Sabine is brilliant and great at coming up with plans for how two young kids can find money and food in a galaxy that only seems to benefit the uberwealthy, and Ben has his magic that lets him lie easily, float things out of pockets, sense danger.  But she always feels guilty after, and throws a fit every time one of their schemes results in someone getting hurt.  Ben rarely uses the Darksaber except to scare people, and it’s not like they’ve killed anyone, but she wouldn’t speak to him for three days after he knocked out a man by collapsing an old roof on him.  A man who was about to stab you with a fucking vibroblade, Sab, come on.

Someone taught Sabine how to shoot though, so they compromise by having her carry around a blaster set on stun, and a blaster Ben promises he’ll keep on stun, and then breaks it whenever there’s danger, and Sabine is upset again.  But he can’t help it.  She’s his family, and family looks out for each other.  Plus, she comes up with the plans and she knows how to cook, which he’s never figured out without her insulting it.  He should bring something to the table.

She doesn’t know why she’s like this, but she just feels this anger every time people have to resort to violence, because that’s what the galaxy has reverted to, that the Republic’s laws are so poor, that people need to hurt each other to survive.  Things have to be better than that.

She feels like there’s more in life for her.

But she doesn’t know what, and running free by Ben’s side as they steal from rich bastards and give back to people needy even when they go hungry themselves more often than not, when they find ships and hop from world to world, experiencing culture after culture, it gives her a sense of purpose, and she knows he agrees with her, that people need help, and if no one’s going to stick up for them, Ben and Sabine will.

He trains with the Darksaber, picks up books on swordfighting, watches old holos about the Jedi when he can.  Sabine watches him, watches the way his calculating eyes follow the motions, how his body moves when he practices.  He’s handsome, and she cannot tell him that, because he’s all she has, but that’s okay, she’ll grow out of it.  It’s just a crush.

Puberty is awkward and horrifying and hellish for the both of them, but they’ve lived side by side for too long for it to be a serious issue.  But it is embarrassing, very embarrassing.  Sabine does enjoy her three years of being the taller one though, and even when Ben finally passes her again, it’s only an inch and less than that when she’s wearing heeled boots.

Ben starts having to use both his powers and the Darksaber when their schemes get more complicated and them deeper into trouble with local authorities.  He’s rough, untrained, but he has his own style, even if they have to flee near immediately afterwards because rumors of Jedi start flying around.  They can’t have the Jedi know about them.  They’ll take away Ben because he’s like them and leave Sabine alone.

They nearly die multiple times.

They fight so bad they split up twice, though each time, no more than a day or two goes by before the one who packed their bags and stormed off “forever” is trudging back, apology on their tongue, only to find the other on their way to apologize as well and beg them to stay.

They visit Mandalore once, when they are fifteen.  It is a completely different place than how Ben remembers it, and to Sabine it doesn’t glow like memories that return do.  It’s wrong.  The ruling junta controls everything, everyone.  Everything is bleak and grey, and they try to do the job there as quickly as possible.  Sabine notices a lot of girls with her name, and the rarer ones named Satine; though, a local tells her when she expresses confusion at their question of what clan she’s from, the name Satine is dying out much quicker than its counterpart.

She is told a story of the warrior of old, S’Tiin/S’Biin that she remembers being told long, long ago, and how girls are named in her honor.

But then she and Ben are told of the Duchess Satine, the newer folk hero.

Sabine’s seen the name graffitied on various walls around the galaxy, there’s a Mandalorian bounty hunter phrase that talks of Duchess Satine’s luck being with them, but she’s never known what it meant until now.

Years ago, there was an old Duchess who ruled Mandalore fairly.  Her reign came to an end when the Death Watch stormed the palace and burned it and killed the Duchess and the entire royal family.  Sabine feels the dread in her gut, knows how her own lost family died that night, how she doesn’t even remember if she was with them when it happened, how Ben still wakes up screaming sometimes from the deaths of his own parents playing in his head, smoke and bodies sometimes haunting her own dreams.

But, the local whispers, rumors say that one body from the royal family was not accounted for: Lady Satine Kryze, the Duchess’s second youngest grandchild.  The body of the young girl was never found, though the government insists that she too is dead.  Dissidents and those who are unsatisfied with the Death Watch Junta’s rule pray otherwise, stake their faith that the young Satine escaped somehow, and is alive and thriving somewhere safe.

That now, as the only member of the royal family left, Satine Kryze will return to Sundari one day, overthrow the Death Watch and restore the throne, take her rightful place as the Duchess Satine of Mandalore and free them all.

Naming a child Satine now will earn you government attention you do not want, but people still have faith.  It’s all they have left.

Ben thinks the story is admirable, though he’s always been open and curious, willing to give things the benefit of the doubt.  Sabine personally finds it a tad ridiculous, and makes her even more furious at this “government” that mistreats its people so much they cling to dead children’s ghosts as prophesied saviors.  Ben never pulls out the Darksaber on Mandalore.  They leave soon after.

Ben and Satine as they grow up discover emotions like love, lust, want.  Neither can remember who first started making eyes at someone they saw on the street, who paid attention to someone who wasn’t the other, but that too causes fights.  The blowout when Ben almost lets Sabine get caught by an angry guard because he was talking to a pretty shopgirl, and then has the audacity to follow Sabine and brood from a distance when a pretty girl asks her to lunch because he doesn’t trust the other girl’s judgement.

They know the other has just grown more beautiful with age, and the painful temptation of how they can be so close, but so, completely, utterly forbidden, and besides, they don’t like me like that.

There are first kisses that aren’t with each other and brief flings with sentients on planets they aren’t on for more than a week.  They talk about love and families, but decide they’re both too young for that, and both feel a relief they won’t admit when the other agrees.

Everything changes once more ten years after Ben dragged Sabine away from the smoking Sundari palace and she woke up with nothing but faint ghosts in her mind.

They’re on a fairly backwater mudhole, trying to scope out a new ride off the planet after helping feed a colony of sick minorities oppressed by the local government, when Ben tenses up next to her and his hand slips around her hip in that way she knows is only protective, but wishes was more.  Sabine turns to see the blue eyes of a man watching her under a heavy brown robe and hood.

She murmurs in Ben’s ear, should they take an opportunity on this one?  Sabine may hate violence, but her and Ben have both found out by now that there are people all over the galaxy who may look a little too close at pretty young children, and the ones who act on those urges, they’ve discovered that neither feels much remorse when they lure them into the other’s stun gun and rob them.

Ben tenses, he’s always despised it when Sabine does this, is worried she’ll get hurt-- fuck it, he doesn’t like seeing her smile coyly at these bastards, beseechingly like she wants them, has to watch them undress her with their eyes, he wants to vomit or stab something or both, but he can’t make decisions for her, though hells know she gives him enough shit when he’s the one doing the luring, though he can’t imagine why.  It’s not like she feels anything for him.  She probably just doesn’t like that he’s being violent.

But his Special Sense goes off with a ringing when he looks at the tall man with the beard staring closely at Sabine, and his gut has rarely steered him wrong before, even if he’s furious with its betrayal by agreeing with Sabine that she should lure this man.

Said luring kind of backfires when it turns out that the vibes Ben was getting off of the robed man was him being a fucking Jedi who quite easily avoids Sabine’s stunning attempts and is now holding his bright green laser sword up to protect himself from Ben who has the Darksaber lit and is fully prepared to get his ass kicked but come on, this is not fair.  It’s especially not fair that the other man is smiling triumphantly.

Sabine feels sick.  The Jedi have found Ben and he’s going to leave her alone.

Ben snarls that he’s not going anywhere with the man, pressing himself to Sabine’s side.  This was his own fault for getting them caught

The man blinks, says he does not want anything with Ben.  He would much like to speak with the Duchess, gesturing to Sabine.

Ben and Sabine stare at him like he’s lost his mind.

The man clarifies, gesturing to Sabine again, asking if she is not in fact Satine Kryze?  

The Lost Duchess?

Sabine feels a high pitched laugh leave her throat, Ben snapping back that no she is not, but the Jedi just sighs, extinguishes his blade, and sits on the floor.  He’s still in front of their only exit because they were foolish enough to lure him into a room with one door.

He introduces himself as Jedi Master Qui Gon Jinn, and says that he has spent the last two weeks following sightings of a black lightsaber very similar to the legendary blade that was wielded by the Mand’alors of old in the past in the possession of a young woman who appears to be the same age as Mandalore’s lost ducal heir.

Ben murmurs to Sabine that this man cannot be stable right now, feeling all the guilt at his own obsession with using his powers like a Jedi when a Jedi he is not and getting them in deep trouble.  Sabine is developing a massive headache, like some of the cotton fog that’s been stuffed tight in her mind for ten years is finally starting to dissipate, but at a rate that it’s just slow and painful.

She asks Jinn scathingly, do the Jedi chase after all silly fairytales now?

Jinn shakes his head with a patronizing smile.  No, he says.  But the Death Watch Junta do.

He watches as both of them tense at the names of those who wiped out their families.  He explains gently, that the Jedi and the Republic have had an eye on Mandalore as a recognized state sponsor of terrorism, and how new reports of them making threats against worlds with the description of the young woman and the lightsaber are making the worlds nervous enough to call the Jedi for help.  The Jedi have figured it would be best to locate the targets the Death Watch are after, if only to keep the worlds the Death Watch would raze to the ground to find them safe.

Sabine and Ben look at each other in horror.  Death Watch is after them?  Ben instantly hands over the sword to Jinn, says he can have that, he and Sabine will be fine on their own, they’ll leave the world and go somewhere they won’t be found.

Jinn shakes his head, says that they need to come with him, Death Watch intends to take Sabine back to Mandalore and publicly kill her.  It doesn’t matter if she’s truly the Duchess or not, they want to break the branches of resistance who view the Duchess as a symbol of hope.

With that, Sabine passes out, voices flooding her head, memories, castles, palaces, eyes, a throne, swarming through her brain.

She can’t be the Lost Duchess.  She can’t.  She would have--

What, remembered it?

Ben suspects foul play on Jinn’s part the second Sabine drops, and if he wasn’t so eager to take the opening and stun the Jedi, grab Sabine over his shoulder, and bolt, he would have known this wasn’t Jinn’s fault as he was surprised enough by her faint to let his guard down.

In his hurry, Ben leaves the Darksaber on the ground where he had tried to give it to Jinn.

He did not realize just how far ahead Jinn was of these Death Watch hunters, however, as not two hours later he’s ambushed, wakes up in a sewage ditch to very bruised everything and Jinn prodding him awake, and-- and Sabine is gone, he lost her.  He failed.

Jinn is shaking him out of his panic, making him a deal that if they come with him afterwards, Jinn will help him rescue Sabine-- and, help Ben learn how to properly use a lightsaber, he adds, holding the Darksaber back out to him.

Sabine wakes up alone and in chains in a dark room on a ship she’s not familiar with.  A helmeted man sits in front of her, asks her who she is, where she came from.  Sabine-- at the encouragement of his blaster to her foot, tells him the whole truth, which is that she has no fucking clue what they want with her.  She’s not the Duchess, literally every other girl on Mandalore is named Sabine or Satine, she’s an orphan, but so are half of the other kids in the galaxy, and she left ten years ago because the occupation was not proving safe or financially beneficial to a street kid like her.

For the first time in her life, her mind feels like she is lying when she tells the story.

As he and Qui Gon track down the ship that took her, Ben is kicking himself.  As a kid, when he met the richly dressed girl by the storage entrance to do cartwheels, he always felt there was something she wasn’t telling him.  Always felt like he was visiting to see nobility, not another servant girl.  A girl whose grandmother commanded servants, like the Duchess of all people was supposed to do.  A girl who was being taken away by someone wielding the weapon that symbolized the ruler of the people, that had to have been taken off of the dead body of the Duchess.

And Sabine had woken up with no clue who she was, and Ben could have quite possibly fed her an entire life’s worth of lies.

Sabine’s answers do not impress her captors.  She braces for torture, and that seems to be what’s on the menu for the next time she gets visitors, as the man growls over his shoulder as he leaves threats of what might happen if she proves so uncooperative again.

Her mind spins again.  Could she be?  Is she really?

But why would Ben lie to her?

He wouldn’t.  He couldn’t.  Sabine has known Ben long enough to know how he lies.  He was an emotional wreck who had lost his whole family after she had first woken up.  He couldn’t have lied to her then to save his life, certainly not to that extent.

No, Ben genuinely believed his tale of Sabine Nobody the servant girl, Sabine knows this with all her heart.

That means Sabine cannot be Satine Kryze then.

But she could?

Ugh.  Her fucking head hurts and she is utterly fucking confused.

Hmm.  One would think she certainly swears far too much to be a fancy duchess.

Ben and Qui Gon Jinn find and board the ship Sabine is on.  As they board, Ben’s anger and fury and worry is washed over by a placid cloud.  He scowls at Jinn, who comments on how powerful he is.  Says he would have made an excellent Jedi.

Something doesn’t feel right hearing that from a Jedi himself.  Ben grips the Darksaber tightly, says that no, he is a Mandalorian.  That’s who took him in.  That’s what Sabine is.  Ben stays with Sabine.  End of story.

Says Jinn with a sad smile, You’re quite right.

They storm the ship as it enters hyperspace, they avoid guards by the skin of their teeth, Ben wants so, so badly to give into that dark voice inside him that’s snarling to tear, to destroy, to kill.  But Sabine doesn’t like violence.  Insists that the sword must be for defence.  That’s what they do, the two of them, they defend people.  Ben slashes and disables, but he does not kill.

They find Sabine in a cell and as soon as they open the door, they realize their sabers will not work against the metal of the chains, but Jinn waves a hand and they unlock on their own.

Ben sees the lost look in her eyes vanish at the sight of him, feels such warmthwarmthwarmth, oh gods above, he could have lost her--

Ben kisses her.

She stiffens for a second.

Holy shit.  Ben is kissing her.

She kisses him back before he can back off and change his mind.

I’m so sorry, he murmurs to her.  For so many things... he’s thinking.

Don’t be... she swears, knowing absolutely none of this was his fault, that he’s stood by her when no one else did.  Don’t be.

Things go haywire and Jinn is shot in the shoulder and they have to make the breathtakingly imbecilic decision of all piling into an escape pod and launching it while in hyperspace.  They nearly burn up tearing out of it and all of them black out from the g-force (this is Not any of their days for staying conscious for too long, it seems).

They wake up and Sabine and Ben are still holding hands and Jinn calls her Duchess again, and Sabine tenses, but Ben strokes her hand, admits miserably that he thinks she might be, that she might have been keeping something from him as children and he had never known what, but--

Sabine hushes him with another kiss.  If so, she says, that was her own fault, not his.  He couldn’t have known.  

But not there’s no way to-- Ben starts, but Jinn interrupts by saying that actually there might be.  He may be no mind healer, but the Jedi have a talent for going into someone’s mind and convincing it to do their will.

Both Sabine and Ben tense, recalling clearly all the times Ben has talked his way out of impossible situations, said things people never should have believed, but they did.

It is quite possible, Jinn says, that he can coax those memories in her mind back out.  He feels them pulsing beneath in her brain, it’s not even that severe a case of memory loss at all, there was just no incentive to trigger their release.

Ben is about to protest, Sabine can tell, so she interrupts him to accept Jinn’s offer.  She’ll be alright, she promises Ben.  She will.  She needs to do this, and he knows she does.

His grey eyes are stormy with worry, but she knows he knows he’s right.

Jinn waves his fingers over Sabine’s face, she feels herself falling asleep once more.

She remembers.

Her life comes back to her: Mother, Father, Bo, Grandmother, Kalevala, the Sundari palace, being raised by tutors before escaping for the freedom of a mysterious delivery boy who taught her to do cartwheels, lying to him to pretend she was normal.

The night of the ball, her blue dress, the tiara that fell off as she was shoved under her father’s body, Ben’s pale face as the armored figure with the black sword started to carry her away, falling, falling--

I’m Satine Kryze.

I am the Duchess of Mandalore.

Gods, help me.

She awakens.  Her cheeks feel wet with tears.  She meets Ben’s gaze, and she just nods.

He knows from the second she opened her eyes.  He squeezes her hand, tells her, she was screaming.  He almost fought Jinn, who assured him painful memories are often agitating.

She nods and he knows.

He doesn’t think he can call her by her true name just yet, but--

He’s crying too, begging her forgiveness, he would have told her if he had known, this is his fault--

She cuts him off, promises him it wasn’t.  I was scared, she gasps, scared you wouldn’t want to befriend a royal.  I was going to tell you at the ball, I swear it, but--

It wouldn’t have mattered, he declares, kissing the tears off her cheeks.  I would have followed you everywhere, even then.  I still will.  I don’t care who you are to other people.  To me, you’re everything.  It doesn’t matter, Sab.

Gods, she loves him.

She tells him so.

He says it back.

And now that she has that assurance...

Okay now don’t be upset, she tells in that way he knows means one of her more outlandish and dangerous plans.  But what if, what if she tried to be the duchess the Mandalorian people are looking for?

Qui Gon Jinn makes a muffled choking noise off to their right.

His eyebrows raise.  But he doesn’t laugh.  She is infinitely relieved he does not laugh at her.

Inside him, something clicks.  He always did feel like he was visiting royalty.  And he meant it when he said he’d follow her anywhere.

But he can’t help but ask: does she have any idea how to run a planet, honestly?

Sabine Kenobi has lived with the lowest of society for ten years, seen things Satine Kryze would never have come close to being exposed to outside her crystal towers.  Sabine Kenobi knows the cracks in the system.  They’ve kept her up at night, with that feeling that she was always supposed to be doing more with her life.

That purpose she was always searching for.

She looks Ben-- Obi Wan, he said once that his name was Obi Wan.  Maybe we should get used to using the names we left behind... --directly in the eye, and asks him: would he be willing to stay by her side as she figured it out?  She warns the process would likely be trial and error.

He meets her gaze and smiles that cocky smile of his she’s always wanted to kiss off his face.  She can do that now, she realizes giddily.  He tells her, absolutely.

She does kiss that smile off her face.

A cough sounds behind them and they separate, turning to look at Qui Gon Jinn, whose face seems torn between amused, intrigue, and likely wishing the Jedi had chosen someone else to find a missing girl and a black lightsaber.

Right.  

Sabine Kenobi, Satine Kryze claps her hands, addresses Jinn.  It seems that the three of them are to be fugitives for a while, she points out.  How, exactly, does one go about starting a peaceful revolution?

[exorciseyourspirit]

Two For Tea||Javier and Rebecca

Timing: Sometime in March, during the coin debacle. Parties: @damn-fine-cup-of-tea Summary: Just two normal folks talking normally about normal White Crest things. Over damn good tea. (This chatzy was unfinished b/c I am, as Meri says, Booboo the fool and let it sit for far too long but it’s a fun read anyway. Thanks!)

Javier took the trip to Rebecca’s house as an opportunity to finally have a look at campus, and Wilkes Park. They were nothing spectacular, but the park was full of these trees he enjoyed so much and he had to stop to observe a praying mantis that was taking a stroll on someone’s windshield. He had left the motel early anyway, as there was nothing he disliked more than being late or in a hurry, at least outside of work. He could not be so picky in his professional life. He was looking forward to this meeting with the Professor. Having followed her advice, the agent had faced his fear of heights and climbed up a roof, to find a cracked roof tile and some scratches. The four other rooftops told him the exact same story. Someone had been near the fireplaces recently. And, whoever they were, they did not leave a lot of traces for him to inspect. This did not make sense. Why would someone go on the roof. Chimneys were too narrow for anyone to fit in there and too dirty too. Those thoughts were solidly anchored in his mind as he knocked on Rebecca’s door. 

The truth behind the newly baked macaroons was a more sinister one than Rebecca wanted to admit. Staying in control was becoming increasingly harder, but Rebecca was determined to not let it interrupt her daily life. He had already taken so much from her, she wasn’t about to let him take her routine, as well. So, baking it was. It helped keep her up, because if she fell asleep with the oven on, the cookies would burn. And other things, but the cookies were the most important part of that equation. She had them all set out on a plate, with the sugar cubes, the teaspoons, cups, and the pot, with a few different choices for Javier to pick from. It’d been a while since she’d picked the brain of another Anthropologist, and she’d have been lying had she said she wasn’t the slightest bit excited for this. Plus, and FBI agent would be a good contact to make. Now, it was just about assessing how much she could get him to believe about this quirky little town. When the knock came, she waltzed over to the door and opened it up, giving a pleasant smile. “Thanks for coming,” she said, standing to the side and ushering him in. The house was a bit older than most in town, but it was nothing overly fancy. Rebecca had left that life behind a long time ago. Still, there were far too many empty rooms, and she could only hope that her decorations she’d bought from the antique mall were enough to hide that fact. “How was the drive over? Not too bad, I hope? There’s a hook for your jacket,” she motioned, shutting the door behind him. She’d always been good at pleasantries, even if she didn’t care much for them.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Javier nodded politely, walking inside when invited and having a first look around him. It was a nice house, even if there was nothing special to it. You could tell a lot about a person from the way their house looked, and as far as the entrance was concerned, Javier could tell that it had not been long since she arrived here, that she had a taste for antiques, and that she was neither married nor with children. “Well, compared to Philadelphia, there was little to no traffic,” he observed, taking off his coat when told to, and putting it neatly on the mentioned hook. His eyes lingered on a hair on the collar, and he took a mental note to clean his coat whenever he could get his hands on a brush. “...” He wondered if he should begin by telling her about these things he had found, climbing on those roofs, or mention the fact that even having learned how to better deal with heights, this had not been his favourite experience since he arrived in White Crest. The only thing that could possibly be worse was his encounter with the mime although nothing terrible had happened then. The meeting with the bizarre masked person had left him with a bad feeling and whenever he thought of that thing, his brain felt like trying to scream in horror. “So, about those dreams,” he began, following the woman behind. “There was something strange going on where the woman was pointing.”

Rebecca led Javier into the foyer and to the sitting room, where she had the tea set up. She was, actually, quite grateful for the company. The big house got lonely, and the more she was alone, the more she felt the weight of it. But being alone, truly, was the only way to keep people safe from the monster inside of her. One small visit wouldn’t harm anyone. She motioned for him to sit anywhere before taking a seat across from him. “So what you’re saying is, my advice was good?” she gave a little wry grin before offering the selection of teas. “Tell me, what is it that you found? If you can share, of course. I’d love to help you anyway I can. I’m just as worried about a serial killer loose in my town as you,” she said simply. 

Javier took a look around each room, out of sheer curiosity. There was something fascinating, to him, about walking into someone’s home. The way a house looked always said a lot about their owner but this one felt a bit empty, like she had just moved in and did not have time to unpack everything. He sat down, crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knee. He held back his smile as she prided herself of giving good advice although his eyes betrayed him and his amusement. “I suppose so.” Glancing at her with a knowing look, he then took a moment to choose his tea. “...” He bit his lip and ran his hand from below his nose to his chin, thoughtful. What he had found did not make much sense, and he was not sure that she would be able to help him with that. She sounded like she knew things about this town, things both mysterious and incredible, he supposed, although for now, all he had gotten from this town was beauty with a touch of eerie. “Someone has been climbing on all the victim’s roofs,” he finally said. “What I don’t understand is, no one could have possibly gotten access to the room through the chimney. It’s too narrow, and it would have made a mess. There was no trace of soot in the room,” he would have to ask Regan about that, although he doubted that she would have forgotten to mention it in her reports. 

Rebecca caught the little smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth and she gave herself an internal pat on the back. All these years later and she still subsisted off of validation from others. “Sure, suppose,” she answered, reaching out to pour in the hot water for his tea, before pouring her own cup. “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment.” She sat back, tilting her head as she examined him. Even in this setting, he still seemed so professional, a feeling she knew well. He sat up straight, crossed his legs proper, and placed his hands in just the right spot. A lady never puts her hands in her lap, her grandmother had said, a lady puts her hands on her knees, or at her sides, lest the men whose company she keeps think her...dirtied. Rebecca shook the memory away and met his eyes, a steely brown, captivating in their unwavering stare. Reflecting his stalwart opinions. “That is interesting,” she noted. What did she know that could do that? She’d have to consult her journals later, but the story of a chimney creeper sounded somehow familiar. “But at least you know how they got in now, right? Now it’s just about figuring out the rest.”

"I was not entirely convinced by your methods," Javier, if he could tell that she had gone some place else in her mind for a while, did not make any comments. He too could sometimes get lost in his own stream of consciousness, and he appreciated being in the company of someone who was quieter than the norm. This was one thing he had observed : Rebecca never spoke to say nothing. There was always a point being made and if he had disagreed with her on her view of dreams and their hidden meaning, he had to admit that she was right. There was something unsettling about it, and since he did not believe in coincidences, he felt slightly frightened as he still had no clue whatsoever on who could have done all of this. He knew how they got in the room. That was all. He had no idea how it was that they got the intestines out so neatly, or why. Was it a cult? A very bored surgeon maybe ? Or a skilled butcher ? "It's interesting, to say the least," in a I have never ever seen something so impossible before kind of way. His gut feeling told him that there was something off about all of this, but he could not put his finger on what. "It is… Just about figuring out everything else," taking out the infuser from the cup, he looked up from the cup, meeting her eyes. "..." No, he would not ask her if she had other hints to give him about this case. Maybe she just believed in dreams meaning something and that was it. And so he remained silent and took a sip from his cup.

“I noticed,” Rebecca said quickly, making sure to keep her voice even. She didn’t entirely care if anyone believed her or not, she’d had people yelling at her her whole life saying she was crazy, saying she was wrong, telling her she couldn’t do it. She’d never listened then, why would she listen now? But Javier seemed to have the ability to change, if he would only open his mind a little. And if Rebecca could help push him in that direction, then maybe someone like him could actually be helpful in this town. It would just take some gentle persuasion. His silence spoke words, as he sipped from his cup. If he didn’t want her advice, that was his loss. She sipped her own. “Well, whatever the case, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. How longs it been since you’ve had a good case like this, Agent?”

“I am still not entirely convinced,” he replied, once again looking at her. This was something Javier did while on the job. Always keeping his eyes on others, studying their mannerisms, their intonation. But he was not working right now, not really. In fact, he was supposed to come here to discuss anthropology, and not once again focus on this case. “But you have won this set. The dreams indeed were trying to tell me something,” putting down his cup, he leaned back a little, trying to look more relaxed, but it was just not comfortable. Sitting up, he rubbed his forehead with the tip of his fingers, puzzled. “How did you know that I would find something up there?” There had to be a reason, an explanation. He did not accuse her of being behind those murders, of course, but this troubled him nevertheless. If he always kept an open mind, he relied heavily on empirical methods. Observations, experiments. “I think this might take longer than I anticipated,” he had theories. Lots of them. But none of them explained the lack of wounds. He could explain everything, but this. “Good question,” he frowned, thinking about the question seriously. He usually had great instincts, and there was always something, a detail, to put him on the path of the perpetrator. “I don’t know if I should be rating cases, but this one is quite captivating,” and he hoped that he would solve this. 

Ending Summary: The two continued a rather amicable conversation about Javier’s case, though neither side decided to let up too much on the secrecy they were holding. They left off on good enough terms to continue speaking and with promises of trying a new tea next time.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Secrets 6

A/n: slight smut warning. AU story 

Link to Chapter 5 

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader 

Words: 2,773

_____________________

“Oh yes, let go act like the happy couple that we were…”

Gabriel glared at you after these words left your mouth. Normally, he wouldn’t even begin to argue with you in front of Elliot. If the two of you were going to argue about something trivial, it could wait until after the kid was in bed. 

“Why don’t you just go in there and tell everyone what an awful husband that I am? Go tell them how I ruined  your life!” 

You put your hand on the door before glancing over your shoulder. 

“I just might!”

You snapped before walking into the house. The argument was stupid and you knew it! You also knew that you would feel bad for being so bitchy later. Gabriel had done a lot to keep you safe! You also felt guilty for yelling at him in front of Elliot. The little boy was still looking between Gabriel and yourself with wide eyes. 

In the heat of the moment, you had totally forgotten exactly what was going on in front of you. You were about to walk into the house that your parent died in. The smell of ammonia and cleaning materials drilled that grim reminder into you. 

Cas, meanwhile, was quietly muttering to Gabriel telling him that he needed to calm down. He looked up at you when he felt your mood change. 

“Gabriel, you need to take care of your wife now. Regardless of what happened beforehand, she is just coming to grasp with the fact that her parents are dead. She now has no immediate family left.” 

Gabriel focused his attention in your direction feeling beyond guilty over everything that had happened that day. He essentially told you that he could kill you if he really wanted. That was such a wonderful thing to say to your pregnant wife! Gabriel rubbed a hand over his face muttering that he was an idiot. 

He slowly walked over and put a hand on the small of your back. 

“Honey…”

You shook your head.

“I’m fine, Gabriel.”

Gabriel wanted to say more but he knew at the moment nothing would make any difference. You were closing yourself off to him...like usual. Whenever he did or said something stupid...you did this. Most of the time he deserved it but this time he was actually trying! 

“Y/n? Is that you?”

Your grandmother’s shrill voice disturbed the awkward moment between Gabriel and yourself. You took a breath trying to prepare yourself for you, Nana Helen. 

“Hi, nana. It's us.” 

Two seconds later, Helen was waltzing into the room like the queen of Sheba. You tried to smile and fake some kind of happiness but that was hard given the state of things. 

“Y/n, sweetheart! I have been so worried about you! You were supposed to be here an hour ago! Oh, look at that your pregnant.” 

Helen’s cheerful smile immediately faded as her eyes flickered to Gabriel. 

“Yes, nana. I’m pregnant again.” 

Helen resumed her over the top perky nature and reached out to take Elliot in her arms.

“You shouldn’t be carrying him right now! It's horrible for you! Come on in here and sit down. You don’t need to be on your feet.”

You didn’t look back to Gabriel, like normal. Normally any time that Helen was around it took the two of you to keep each other sane. Now, it seemed that you were on your own for the moment. 

Walking into the kitchen, you were relieved to see your mother’s mother, Amelia in the room. Finally, a welcomed face! Amelia was opposite of Helen in every way. Amelia played poker, drove a Harley, and drank like a fish and yet somehow, she was totally healthy. 

She smiled up at you.

“There you, honey. Look at you! Pregnant again. Do you and Gabriel know that there are other activities then se…”

Helen quickly hushed the other woman before the rest of “sex” came out. She politely motioned to Elliot in her arms. In actuality, it had nothing to do with Elliot being in the room in the slightest. Helen was a huge prude. The fact that she somehow was able to produce your father was a miracle in itself! It was probably the only time that your grandparents had done anything. 

Amelia rolled her eyes. 

“The kid is going to figure it out anyway.”

“He is three for goodness sakes!” 

Helen squealed. It took all you had not to giggle and the annoyed expression on Amelia's face. You other grandmother wasn’t the least bit shy about the wonders of human sexuality. Hell, she always made the joke that your mother came from some weird orgy at a biker rally. When you were a teenager it was just a funny joke. Now, as an adult, you didn’t doubt one bit that Amelia was being serious. 

“Prude.”

Amelia muttered as Gabriel walked in with Cas behind him. 

“Another person I like! Gabriel, isn’t Helen a prude?”

You pressed your lips together again trying not to laugh. If Gabriel answered you knew that it wouldn’t be pretty. When you were brave enough you finally looked up to your husband. He was smiling and nodding. 

Helen “chose” to ignore everything else. In her mind, if she ignored Gabriel and Amelia enough, they would forget about her. 

Amelia had, just as Helen hoped, forgotten about her when her eyes landed on Cas. 

“Whose he?” 

Gabriel had almost forgotten about his brother standing beside him. 

“This is my brother.” 

Amelia smirked. 

“He’s as good looking as you are. God, your family has a great gene pool. No wonder Y/n keeps getting pregnant.”

“Amelia! You're filthy!”

Helen screeched. Amelia got up and handed Gabriel money. 

“Handsome go buy me some booze. The kid has to go to bed sometime. Planning this funeral with the witch over there is going to take some major booze for me.”

Helen rolled her eyes. 

“Sure, let's just drink! That is exactly what Stephanie and Charles would want! Us sitting around getting plastered while we plan their services.” 

You, meanwhile, looked down at your lap fighting that sinking feeling that was coming right back. Normally, this is where Gabriel would start trying anything to cheer you up. 

“Y/n, I’ll be back in a bit.”

You finally looked up meeting Gabriel’s gaze. His face was silently begging for forgiveness. He was even more depressed when you looked back down at your lap without a word. 

Gabriel muttered a few curse words under his breath before turning and walking out of the house. 

When Gabriel was out of the room, Helen’s attention returned back to you. 

“He isn’t working is he?”

You looked up. 

“He’s working, nana. Gabriel has a lot on him right now.” 

“Is that why the two of you aren’t talking?” 

You wanted to smash your face on the table. What was it with Helen and her questioning? This had to be why your father was raging lunatic! Helen drove him nuts! 

“No, nana. We didn’t have a good morning.” 

Elliot looked up. 

“Mommy, you and daddy were too fighting.”

You put your hands over your face.

“Elliot.” 

Amelia sighed and motioned Elliot over. 

“Here’s five dollars, don’t go play in the street.” 

Elliot quickly pocketed his money and bailed from the room. Amelia ignored the annoyed expression that Helen was giving her. 

“Bribing kids works well. Y/n, what is going on?”

You leaned back. 

“Everything is fine. Gabriel and I are just having a hard time right now. We really weren’t planning on another baby…”

Helen rolled her eyes. 

“If he’s man enough to get you pregnant then he needs to be man enough to deal with the consequences of his actions. He has never seemed like a very happy person.”

“Nana, again, he is dealing with a lot of things. Gabriel is a wonderful father.”

Amelia decided to chime in. 

“I think you are full of crap! Every time I see that man he is smiling. Helen, didn’t you run your husband off with your hoity-toity attitude?” 

You slowly stood up. 

“I am going upstairs. I need to pick up some clothes for mom and dad.” 

You ignored Helen and Amelia's argument that they seemed to burst into. If they wanted to sit there and critique your marriage to Gabriel and whether or not you made him happy...fine. You weren’t about to be any part of it though! 

Walking up the steps, you froze outside of your sister’s bedroom door. The door probably hadn’t been opened in that 15 years since Violet had died. Violet’s death was what nearly pushed both of your parents over the edge. Sure, they kept her locked away like a dirty secret but you could still see the sadness in your mother’s eyes anytime that she looked at your sister.

“Y/n?”

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you looked up to see Cas standing behind you. 

“Oh, hello Cas.”

You replied before looking back to the door handle. Cas was silent a moment before talking. 

“You sister died in there?”

You nodded.

“They kept her locked up in there. From the day of her first chemo appointment until the day that she died. They didn’t want anyone to see her. It was like a stain on our family’s lovely history. I don’t think that anyone has been inside since the day that Violet died.” 

Cas frowned. 

“Death is never easy. I don’t think that pushing someone into a dark corner in their last days is a way to do your family member.” 

You again nodded. 

“I agree. I hated it. I was home when she died. I was just a kid. My parents wanted to get over losing her and get back on with life the next day. I wasn’t allowed to cry...or feel anything for that matter. The way my mother and father handled it is the reason that Gabriel hated them so much.” 

Cas slowly looked down to the door handle as well. 

“Maybe it would do you some good to go inside?”

You stepped back.

“I don’t know. I mean, I know that the room will have to be cleared. Nana said that the house was going up for sale. After what happened to my parents...I don’t think anyone in the family wants the place.”

Cas slowly reached down and opened the door. 

“It will do you some good. I’ll go with you.” 

Cas slowly reached down and wrapped an arm around your waist. You were relieved that his touch was as comforting as Gabriel’s. 

Stepping inside, everything was just like it was the day that your father closed the door and declared that no one was to go in there. The hospital bed was neatly made and the drapes were drawn over the window. All of Violet’s photos from “the good times” were still on the shelf. 

Cas looked around the room. He was still trying to figure out why your family was so “off.” It was all making sense now. Your father was absolutely nuts! You said it yourself but Cas was trying to give the old man the benefit of the doubt.

“Y/n, I have to ask. Did your parents really not want you to marry Gabriel?” 

You tore your eyes away from your sister’s bed. In the moment, you were thankful that Cas was taking your mind off of all the negativity of your childhood.

“My mother wore black to the wedding.” 

You had to smile at the expression of shock on the angel’s face. 

“I’m not kidding.”

You replied adding a small sheepish smile. Cas finally chuckled. 

“Their reactions upon realizing who my brother actually is amused me greatly.”

You nodded. 

“I was still kind of in shock myself so I regret not enjoying the moment more. Cas, I may sound like a crazy person here but...I don’t know if I am entirely upset over my parents dying. I am sad that they had to go the way that they did but...I feel free. They weren’t kind people for being church leaders.” 

Cas shrugged. 

“Sometimes religious people have the most skeletons to hide.” 

You couldn’t agree more. Your family had “plenty” of skeletons that was for sure! 

“Gabriel feels bad for what he said.”

Cas said softly. Your eyes rolled back to his face. 

“Cas, you don’t have to make excuses for him. We both said things that we really shouldn’t have. I have all of these crazy pregnancy hormones and he has all of his stuff that's going on. I hate that he closes me out the way that he does.” 

Cas didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know that Gabriel was standing there. He wanted to make sure that his brother heard what he was about to say.

“Gabriel, does need to stop shutting you out. I think you are perfectly capable. You are, after all, having a second Nephilim. That takes some skill there.”

You smirked. 

“If I don’t strangle someone by the time this baby gets here...it will be a miracle. I’m normally not this short-fused. I think that I am going to go lay down. If Gabriel turns up, tell him that I won’t pull his hair out.”

10 minutes later...

You lay back on the bed looking at the ceiling. The next day was gong the hellish. You didn’t know if your parents had any funeral planning done or not. Nana Helen had made an appointment with the lawyer that did your parent’s will. That was the last thing that you wanted to do but you had to see what was coming. 

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Gabriel standing in the doorway. He hadn’t moved to come into the room but instead decided to keep his distance. 

“It took you a while.” 

You replied slowly sitting up. Gabriel smirked. 

“I got Amelia her booze then took a few extra left-hand turns.” 

You smiled, not blaming him in the slightest. 

“I’m jealous. You can come in you know. I’m not going to throw anything at you.” 

Gabriel slowly walked in and shut the door behind him. 

“The old ladies should be good. Helen is reading her Bible and Amelia is half drunk watching Monday Night Football. It was the Bachelor but she changed it. She doesn’t strike me as a reality TV fan. Cas is putting Elliot to bed. He tried to bribe me for five dollars to kiss him goodnight. Kid is going to have to step up his game.”

Gabriel slowly sat down beside you. You looked up with a small smile.

“Amelia taught him that. Please don't teach him how to extort people better.” 

Gabriel chuckled. 

“He’ll come into that honestly. So, you okay?”

You nodded. Gabriel reached out and pulled you onto his lap. 

“I’m sorry about everything that I said. That was really douchy...even for me. Y/n, I’m sorry that I keep closing you out. You don’t need that. You also don’t need me being a giant dick to you.” 

“I’m sorry too, Gabriel. You weren’t the only one that said something out of line.” 

Gabriel was silent for a moment. 

“Things were just so much easier before all of this shit started.” 

He was very much correct there! Before all of this crazy started your lives were fairly routine...maybe even boringly routine. 

“Gabe, I think it’s time that we both accept that our old lives are long gone. This is our new normal. We can find some happiness in it someway.” 

Gabriel carefully laid you back on the bed. He crawled in between your spread legs and leaned down for a kiss.

“Oh we are about to find some happiness alright. Maybe I could make you moan extra loud to creep that old hag downstairs out.” 

You playful tried to shove Gabriel’s head away as he yanked your panties off. 

“I don’t want Helen dropping dead of a heart attack!” 

Gabriel placed a few open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs. 

“Yeah, we don’t need three funerals to go to. Enough death talk! I’m trying to eat you out and this is killing my hard on.” 

You relaxed down into the pillow with a satisfied smirk. 

“Get to work then, angel.”

________

@brokencasbutt67-writer

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@summer-novak

[superpsychonutcase]

A short story I wrote and submitted into a contest. Based off play I am currently writing which was inspired by a monologue for a Theater Appreciation class that was required for my grade. 

The smell of paint lingered in the air even after four days. The odor was worth it though; maroon suited my parlor rather well. Perhaps another week and my friends will stay longer than five minutes before the scent chases them away.

I was cleaning up the tea service when someone began pounding on the door. “Bella? Bella, are you home?”

Hearing the panicked baritone of Damian Blackthorn made my lips curl in derision. Four days since Aria’s disappearance and he finally comes knocking at my door. I set down the china laden tray and dusted off my lavender tea dress. Kept me waiting long enough.

Damian continued his assault as I breezed through my childhood home. The small mansion felt almost too large. With mother five years dead and father slipping further into depression at the asylum, the halls seemed bigger. Tokens from our lives, their travels, pictures of us three, still dotted the rooms and walls of Atwood Manor. They invoked painfully sweet memories every now and then, but I couldn’t bear to store them away. Everything from the giant Ming dynasty vases in the parlour to the Faberge eggs display in the kitchen took up space, but moving the expensive knick knacks would only make the house emptier. The vacant rooms were mockery enough, a constant reminder of my humiliation by the hands of a man who once promised me the world.

I stopped in front of the gilded mirror in the foyer for a quick check as no self respecting belle should open her door before making sure she looks her best. My shiny auburn tresses were secured in a flawless french chignon. My makeup was impeccable, my clothes cleanly pressed, and my jewelry elegant yet simple. Perfect for watching a man grovel.

Another quick touch up, just to be safe, and I opened the door.

Standing on my porch, looking downtrodden and pathetic, was Damian Blackthorn. His black hair, normally in artful disarray, appeared to have been quickly combed. The man’s clothes would have sent his mother into a raging fit if she could see the wrinkles in his linen suit. Dark bags hung under red rimmed gray eyes, which lacked their usual spark. Even the family crest ring on his right ring finger seemed to have lost its luster. A white rainflower was tucked in his breast pocket. So he wishes to atone for his sins, does he?

His shoulders slumped upon seeing me. “Bella.” he sighed in relieved despair.

While he was weighed down by his woes, I stood tall and proud. “Mr. Blackthorn.” I replied.

He flinched at my formality. I had never said his name so coldly. “Bella, may I please come inside?”

It was tempting to shut the door on him, but it wouldn't be ladylike of me. I took a step back and bid him enter. Damian sighed, as if he has been holding his breath, before tentatively padding into a house he knew as well as his own. I wanted to slam the door, but Mama taught me better than to show weakness where others can see.

I shut the door with faux calm and followed the gentleman into the parlor. Damian was examining the walls in confusion. “You repainted?”

“It was time for a change.” I reveled in his hurt. Back when we were little, my parents had decided to redecorate. Papa had allowed Damian and me to choose the color for the greeting room. After much bickering, we had settled on a light, sea foam green. “Like your eyes,” Damian said. While we weren’t allowed to help paint, I remember we had been so proud. The parlor is an important room in a home, the first place a guest will see and must be maintained to make the best impression. Mama and Papa had liked it, too. They said it made the room feel lighter. Now the once bright walls had bled into a dark red, like my heart did when he announced his engagement to that floozie and made me a laughing stock.

Damian looked around the room again, his expression troubled. “Shame. I had a fondness for that color.”

A lady is a master of small talk, but I was in no mood to entertain him. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be out sending apology letters?”

The man peered down at his feet and heaved a despondent sigh. He twisted the ring upon his finger, a nervous tick he has always had. “That is what I’m here to do, Bella. Of everyone in this town, it is you that deserves an apology the most.”

Fury licked at my chest with white hot flames. All these months of minding my temper had been a test of my will, and it was crumbling under the strain. “So I am suddenly deserving of your gallantry? And what are you apologizing for exactly, Mr. Blackthorn? Are you apologizing for your behavior in the town square? How about for breaking your promises, hm?”

“Bella, please don’t do this.” A hand came up to rest over his eyes. “I’m trying to make things right again.”

I barely contained an unfeminine snort, instead crossing my arms under my ample chest. “Is that so, Mr. Blackthorn? Pray tell, how do you think you could make things right? Did you honestly think an apology could ever fix what you’ve done?”

Damian’s hand dropped to his side, clenched in frustration. His voice held a note of restraint as if he had the right to be angry. “Damn it all, Bella! What do you want me to say: that you were right all along?! If so, then I admit it! You were right about Aria! You tried to tell me that she was only after money and security, and I didn’t listen! I’m sorry for spurning you! I’m sorry for ignoring your suspicions! And I’m sorry for breaking my promise! Are you happy now?!”

I watched as he stood there panting after his loud tirade. Only after he gained his breath did I respond, calmly as a lady should. “No, I’m not happy, Damian. Do you want to know why?”

He didn’t say anything. All he could do was stare at me with depressed longing.

“I’m not happy because my hopes, our dreams, our future together are gone. Shattered and broken, torn asunder by your hands.” I began to stalk around the room, circling the man as a cat would a mouse. “I had always known we would marry one day. We would spend hours in our backyards laying in the grass and planning our lives.  You pursued me before my presentation, the suitors at my debut only attended in name as you had staked your claim for my hand. You were my shoulder to cry on when my mother passed, and I yours when your parents died. Even as my father retreated into his own mind, you promised that you would take care of me. Then you went on your three year trip to expand your business. Before you left, you gave me your grandmother’s bracelet. You said that would place a diamond on my finger once you returned. You asked me to wait, and wait I did.

“Several men came knocking at my door barely a month after your departure. Suitors of all kinds came bearing vows to love me till their dying breaths. Still I turned them away saying I was spoken for. No matter how long it took, I was determined to wait for you.”

Damian, the man I had dreamed about for as long as I could remember, looked so downtrodden. His eyes watered, tears threatening to fall. He reached out, his hand extended to take mine. “Bells…”

“No!” I draw back violently. “You don’t get to call me that! You have lost the privilege, Mr. Blackthorn, after you threw away our future to pursue that money-hungry harlot you supposedly put in the pudding club!”

He collapsed on the couch, hands running and gripping his thick, wavy hair. “What else could I have done, Bella? I know I made a mistake! I was only trying to do what was right!”

“And where did that get you?! Your fiancée got cold feet and ran off, taking with her an engagement ring that has been in your family for the last six generations along with a box of your mother’s jewelry!” I almost missed his quiet sob. The small shake of his shoulders was the only sign of Damian’s distress. “I warned you about her! I told you that a daughter of mobster would bring you misery! And what did you do, Damian? You brushed me off. And only 3 weeks ago, you dressed me down in the town square! You held that snake in your arms while you tore me to pieces for commenting on how thin she looked!”

Tears began slipping down his face, catching on his scruff. “She had a miscarriage.” His voice wavered with doubt.

I fought back another snort of derision. I rolled a manicured hand, loosening my aching muscles. “A confession she made not long after my humiliation, I’m sure. Tell me, Mr. Blackthorn, did it ever occur to you that Miss Kita lied about being pregnant? Lied so that she could marry into your money?”

Damian’s silence was answer enough.

I gave a haughty sniff, just like Mama taught me, and began padding toward the foyer. “I reckon you better be leaving now, Mr. Blackthorn.”

My trek came to a sudden halt as Damian gently grabbed my arm. “Miss Atwood, Bella, I know I’ve done wrong by you. However, if you would find forgiveness in your heart, I would uphold my promises I made to you and our parents.”

And so it begins. I fought the grin tugging at my lips. I whipped around, yanking my arm from his grasp, wearing a mask of rage. “You would uphold your promise?! Just where was this attitude when Aria came waltzing into town? When she was bawling on your doorstep, proclaiming that she was with your child? Now that your precious hummingbird has flown off I’m suddenly worthy of your name? Well I’m sorry, Mr. Blackthorn! While you were off nesting with Miss Kita, Mr. Callaway has been courting me.”

Damian, in a most ungentlemanly act, choked out a chortle. “Charles Callaway?! The head of Callaway Lumber?! He’s new money!”

I calming picked lint off my shoulder. “He may be from new money, but he is an honorable man.”

A soft wheeze of disbelief escaped Damian’s mouth. “So that’s it, then? You’re going to court Charles Callaway.”

“Perhaps.” My delicate shoulders lifted in a shrug. “The man seems to like me well enough.”

The male before me regained his senses. Anguish flared to life in his silver orbs. “But Charles?! Out of all the men in Whysteria, you chose the gambler?”

“He is a respectable man and seems to have a good head for business.” My back ached. Perhaps I should skip my embroidery today and take a nap.

Damian snorted lividly, not unlike a bull. “He leeches off his father’s success. Charles has as much head for business as a swine.”

I fiddled with a vase of light purple mallows and blue lobelias. The silky petals felt pleasant under my skin. “Perhaps he just needs a wife to steer him right.” I turned and faced my childhood sweetheart head on. “I am 25, Damian. For three years, I waited for you. I watched as my friends got married and had children. I wanted nothing more than to have that with you. And you returned only to be followed by a tryst you had on your travels and pledged your life to her.”

“I was only trying to…” I placed a finger upon his lips. They were chapped though still as soft I as remembered.

“Do the gentlemanly thing, as you were taught.” I lowered my hand back to my side. “You made your choice, Damian. And in doing so, you left me open to courtship offers. Unfortunately, you also made me the subject of gossip. Mr. Callaway wasn’t my first choice, but all other bachelors are either taken or refuse to challenge your claim.”

Damian reached out to take my hand only to drop it when I pulled away. “So you will settle for nw money?”

Breathing heavily through my nose, I nodded in confirmation. “It’s far past time for me to start a family.”

He took a tentative step. “And my promises to our parents?”

“Considering your short-lived engagement to Aria, they obviously meant nothing to you.” My voice was harder than I meant it to be, but his flinch pleased me.

Another step forward and I could feel his hot breath against my forehead. “But it does, Bella! Aria has run off. We can still be together.”

“I am not your consolation prize, Damian.” I let my head fall, closing my eyes. “I’d like for you to leave.”

The two of us, childhood friends long grown, stood in silence. Our soft breathes were the only sounds to be heard. The air was laden with bitter heartbreak. After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, Damian shuffled out of my ancestral home. Before he could close the door, I let loose a sob. It was soft and watery, yet loud enough that it made him pause before closing the door. My chest and throat shuddered as the wooden porch creaked under his retreating footsteps.

My abdominal muscles constricted again, and the sob was replaced with a snicker. Then I was outright laughing in the empty house. I stumbled along the hall, catching myself on the walls, all while laughing in euphoric triumph.

I wound up in the kitchen as my laughter trailed off into twisted giggles. Gazing out the back window as I caught my breath again, I let my eyes fall on the garden. The garden that was my mother’s pride and joy when she was alive. Under my care, the blooms weren’t nearly as healthy. It wasn’t hard to admit my mother had a thumb greener than mine. Gardening was never one of my passions, but I did my best to maintain Mama’s flowers and produce as best as I could. “That almost went too perfectly.”

Portraying hurt and anger wasn’t exactly difficult as just thinking of Aria stealing my future husband away from me always stokes my rage to a wild flame. “But he’ll come back. He’s too honorable to let to let me marry such common filth.” And if he didn’t, I’d have to stage some domestic dispute. “I’ll give it two, maybe three weeks time before he challenges that brute away from me.”

I sighed contentedly and took one last look at the garden. My roses were looking rather wilty. Hopefully, the plants will grow and thrive with Aria fertilizing them.

[wannawrite]

Taiwan’s Treasure

• who?: Wanna One's Lai Guanlin • genre: 🌸 • type: bullet point

• flower boy! AU

• there’s this really cute Taiwanese flower boy who keeps changing his flower crown every few days

the 'our two lips' flower boys LDH PJH PWJ KJH IYM blog navigator. second last instalment for this month and I hope you guys enjoyed this series!! Thank you!! also, trying to gender neutralise my works a bit more but i'm sorry if i make mistakes!! - Admin L

• you have lived in the same neighbourhood for as long as you could remember so you recognise everyone • when a moving truck stops to the empty house next to your own - the previous neighbours immigrated - you're mildly excited for new people • since all your neighbours are nice senior couples and good-hearted grandmothers who feed you and your brother really often bc you two are the only teenagers in this place • your brother is still a young child must protect • anyway, you have school the day they're moving in and you don't get a chance to spy them out 

• your chauffeur - Jisung, who is pretty much an annoying older brother to you but you love him - comes to pick you and your brother from school • just as your car approaches, you spy a young woman getting out of the car, beaming • she's very well-dressed #lairich and pretty • there seems to be someone else still sitting in the car they arrived in but you can't exactly make out who it is • your car is parked in the driveway and the gates are closing before you know it • "wow, it's interesting to have new neighbours again...." your younger brother pipes up • agreed • you don't see your neighbours for a good two days • until one day, you're walking back from school by yourself • since your brother got sick during school hours and was rushed to the hospital where your dad was • you hear sounds of a basketball even through your loud music • it must be your new neighbour • the house seems deserted and even the cars are out • might as well go and introduce myself • there's a teenage boy playing basketball by himself in a big ass driveway, his main gate is ajar so you slip in • "hello!" • he is stunned and nearly drops the basketball, he fumbles to collect it for a while • you take that time to observe him • d a m n • a visual • "um...hi" he replies shyly before clearing his throat, "Sorry, my Korean isn't good." • uh no way you genuinely thought he was a native speaker from those words • but since you're nice you try to speak simple, basic words • "oh! welcome to the neighbourhood! where are you from? my name is Y/N, I live next door." then you blush because you realise you just bombarded him with a ton of words • "i'm sorry!" you apologise, blushing • he laughs it off, "i-it's fine. i'm from Taiwan and m-my name is Guanlin" • perks of attending C9 International Academy, you know a tad bit of Chinese and you manage to communicate with him a little • unfortunately, that's the only time you have a proper conversation with him • the rest of the time, you're leaving for school just as he wakes up and you come back while he's still at Cube International Private • guanrich • you see him venturing out early in the mornings when you are doing your morning stretches • secretly, you're spying on him from his room window • two of you never get a chance to talk • the time his family invited yours over for dinner, you had prefect camp in school and had to miss out • your friends wouldn't stop joking about your bummed out face for the entire two days • "ahh, Y/N is mad because she missed out on the chance to meet a rich, handsome, foreign cutie!" • "don't joke so much Cheng Xiao, here, a lot of the students are rich, pretty and foreign too" • your best friend clicked her tongue while smirking, "oh, he's different" • it's safe to say that camp was the least enjoyable • to make matters worse, all your brother did was rave about 'Guanlin ge' • confused, you asked him why he didn't call Guanlin 'hyung' • "he told me we're close enough to call him brother in his mother language!" • ge, 哥, is older brother in Chinese • apparently, Guanlin played basketball with him late into the night and even managed to convince your strict parents to allow him to stay up late • they both played into the night under the watchful eye of Jisung who wasn't sure if he was a chauffeur or your servant • he loved you guys like siblings though • ANYWAY • Guanlin seemed to be running off early in the mornings as soon as the summer started and you weren't sure why • in the evenings, he came home looking flustered and exhausted • you found out the reason for his weird schedule a few days later • when your friends invited you to head out cafe hopping • the first stop: our two lips • an aegyo a day keeps the doctor away • but if it's too much you might need to see the doctor • Park Jihoon needs a surgeon ASAP • but another reason you decided to go there is because your cousin, Bae Jinyoung got hired to be a flower boy and you want to collect pictorial evidence of him to make memes out of and embarrass the hell out of him at the next family gathering • you're texting your friends and Xiyeon and Cheng Xiao tell you they're going to be late and for you to go ahead • shock is written all over your face when a familiar, handsome neighbour greets you • "y/n...." your name tumbles from his velvety lips in a raspy tone, as if he can't believe you're standing there either • your mouth forms a small 'o' and you two are standing there just gazing at each other for a while • he is mesmerising • Guanlin clears his throat and awkwardly offers to show you to a table • god that was so rude of me • you fiddle with your Kate Spade cross body along the way, feeling mildly self-conscious • he's so nervous he messes up his Korean and has to repeat his sentence three times • he has gotten a lot better though! • you feel super proud • "your skill is improving! that's good! you must have worked hard, what a genius!" you praised, awed by his smartness • Guanlin smiles bashfully as his face grows hot. he rubs the back of his neck in shame. "Ahh, no. I didn't even sign up for this job willingly. Seonho tricked me into thinking it was a cupcake eating competition" • you burst out laughing until your stomach hurt from all the giggles • "aww! next time, you can ask me if you need help with anything." • he nodded and dutifully took your order before whizzing off • Guanlin is the one who works hard but also plays hard while on the job. he is also the kind who brightens his hyung's bad days and sometimes falls victim to their pranks • the next time Guanlin visits your table to drop off your tea, you notice his flower crown is different from the rest of the boys • again, his face goes red and you nearly squeal at how adorable he looks • "ohh, these are plum blossoms, the national flowers of Taiwan. Uh, my mum felt like being extra and I guess my aunt almost went overboard," he said, revealing the whole story • you beamed, adoring the cute story. "it's unique and cute, just like you!" you blurted out • "whoops! sorry, I didn't mean too!" • Lin Lin goes even redder and clamps his mouth shut • instead, he plucks his own flower crown off and settles it on your head before smiling and walking off • FREAKING OUT • you can't remember what it felt like to have a normally paced heartbeat anymore • brhidhsksjdn • his flower crown is definitely the prettiest and it's made out of real flowers! • damn someone give his aunt a raise pls • Cheng Xiao and Xiyeon waltz in • they were secretly watching the exchange between you and your crush from across the road through the lens of binoculars • how supportive • Xiyeon can't stop smirking at your blushing cheeks • "hey, stop that," you whine, covering your face • when Cheng Xiao's latte arrives, her latte art is a super cute writing of sheep [ go support Yixing ] in Korean • with a bit of listening in to the fellow flower boys, it's Guanlin's way of revising his Korean writing • it's the cutest latte art you've seen • also, it reflects his hard-working personality and willingness to learn • "oooh, I really wonder whose flower crown this is...." Xiyeon muses, sipping her tea • your blush worsens and you slump in silence, almost in defeat • "okay, okay. I like him? So what?" you burst out, but only loud enough for your friends to hear • at least you thought so.... • across the room, a particular Taiwanese boy is struggling to keep his cool • Y/N likes someone else, just accept that! • it's probably that Bae Jinyoung • you don't know but Guanlin has a crush on you • ever since you introduced yourself whilst he was playing basketball • he saw you a couple times at friendly basketball matches against C9 • you were always hanging around the captain of your team, Bae Jinyoung so Guanlin assumed he was your boyfriend • but Baejin is your COUSIN • pls don't date your cousins guys it's illegal • his mood is definitely dampened after he hears your confession, his heart has sunk to the bottom of the ocean • of course not, why would Y/N like a foreigner? We can't even communicate properly! • Guanlin was trying his best to be attentive in Korean class so that he could hold a proper conversation with you someday • the G in Guanlin is for genius • much to your dismay, Guanlin didn't try to talk to you anymore but you figured he just got shy around your friends • he has no reason to be shy around his neighbour • 'Neighbour' is all I would ever be...... • eventually, you leave but not without returning his special flower crown, fixing it securely on his head and complimenting it once more, which causes him to blush furiously • sigh...that's the last glance of flower boy Guanlin you get • until....... • a couple of days later, you're exiting your gate, out on your mid-morning run when Guanlin's mother calls your name from her front door • you greet her with a huge smile, winning her heart over completely • Gosh, I hope Guanlin stops crying over Y/N and talks to them instead, they're so sweet • "Y/N darling, if it isn't too much trouble, could you drop by Guanlin's work and give this to him on my behalf? You are a sweetheart." • you can't exactly say no to your nice neighbour future mother-in-law • Mrs Lai feeds you and your brother all the time ??? She sends Taiwanese snacks all the time and your heart just melts • especially when she mentions her children helped her to make them • baking with Guanlin • NEXT • so, tentatively, you find yourself stepping into the cafe again. clad in your workout attire and all • Nike sponsored your outfit so you look chic and hot asf • 😍😍😍 • Guanlin when he saw you ^ • then he remembers Baejin and he's like 'oh' then sighs, 'i can't flirt with someone who is taken. that is just rude' • he watches from behind the counter as you talk to Ong Seongwoo, casually admiring how pretty you look • like literally, who can look that good after exercising? your skin is glowing, your eyes are happy, there's some sort of sun-kissed gleam about you that lights up his entire face • "hey, Lin Lin!" Ong yells "y/n is here for you!" • Ha Sungwoon, who is ushering the last few customers out before they close for a lunch break, does a 360 spin when he hears the telltale clatter of a metal tiffin • Guanlin takes the tiffin from you, mumbling a 'thank you' • his fingers brush against yours and sparks shoot through his entire body, making his eyes widen and he nearly loses grip on the entire thing • please don't waste food • "Jinyoung!" you beam, running over to hug your cousin affectionately but not before making sure Guanlin made it safely to their break room with the food • Guanlin's emotions are conflicted. he is confused why you act so nice to him when you already have a boyfriend. yes, there is such a thing as being friends but he can't handle his feelings for you. he lets out a frustrated groan just as you and Baejin enter the break room • "y/n, did you eat? you should join us for lunch," Park Jihoon pipes up, looking hopefully at you with his doe-like eyes. • before you can nod, Ong stands up and announces there's a shortage of chairs so there's a scramble to find one for you • whoosh! suddenly you and Guanlin are left alone • today, he has some sort of rose pinned to his shirt pocket in place of his flower crown • "it's very pretty, just like you," you babble out without thinking. um deja vu much? you might as well just throw caution to the wind and straight out flirt with him now • outside, your cousin is struggling to hold in his laughter while recording blackmail • Guanlin just shrugs, pretending to busy himself with unloading the tiffin tiers while he tries to suppress his rising emotions • where are my hyungs? • "oh my gosh! this smells amazing! what is it? your mother must be a great cook," you praise, but restrain yourself from digging in without the others • "it's traditional Taiwanese food. my mum makes only the best," Guanlin says proudly • "i should try to learn some from your mum. that way, we can make it whenever you come over!" • "......" Guanlin is speechless and the image of you cooking and learning how to make his traditional mother land dishes makes him soft!!! • "i mean, with your sister! and, and your parents, of course!" you continue • there's an awkward pause before you start talking again, "has anyone requested for you to feed them as fanservice?" • Guanlin cringes and shakes his head. "thank God but Woojin hyung did get asked once and I think I still have a video of it on my phone." • Woojin's shame and annoyance is pretty much radiating off him right now • with a burst! of confidence, you scoop up a spoonful of rice and lets it hover near your lips • "would you like me to feed you?" • EW NO I AM SO CRINGEY PLS LET ME LIVE I AM SORRY I AM SO SORRY SWEETIE • Lin Lin is so stunned his mouth drops open and heat creeps up the back of his neck. he doesn't know how to tell you that your action reminds him of the wedding tradition where the bride has to prepare glutinous rice balls for the groom • okay Guan we get that you have a crush on y/n but maRRIAGE IS TOO SOON STOP YOU ARE A CHILD IM YELLING • maybe it's a thing you do to your friends all the time but to Lin Lin, he's only ever been fed by his family or really close friends... never his CRUSH • he isn't going to complain about being fed though we all know he loves food • fksodhjds his feelings are all over the place now • "why do you act like this when you already have a boyfriend?" • um what? run that by me again? • Guanlin spends excessive time on chewing so as to avoid answering your questions • "oh...you know, Bae Jinyoung? The captain of C9's basketball team? Also the guy you were hugging two seconds ago?" he retorts, face falling in realisation that you probably had to admit and confirm your relationship • contrary to his expectation, you burst out laughing and so does Baejin and Jaehwan • "guANLIN! BAEJIN IS MY COUSIN!" • flsjskdjsksdj he has never gone so red in his entire life • only you have that effect on him ;) • "s-so...you're single?" guanlin stammers out ruefully • boldly, you press a quick kiss to his cheek • "yes, very" • "c-can...w-will you go o-out" • someone save him he's switching between English, Chinese and Korean in one sentence • "yes." • relief just washes over his face and his hyungs burst back into the room • "wow! it took us fifteen minutes to find one chair! this place has terrible storage!" • you turn to Guanlin and poke his cheek gently • "yah, wipe that smug smile off your face. if you were a flower, you would be white calla lily" • he quirks an eyebrow, "innocence and purity?" • cue hyungs cackling • "yeah! your next flower crown should be made out of those!" • the next week, he comes to work with one commissioned by his aunt • but he refuses to leave for work until he has stopped by your place to give you a matching one • you get his aunt's phone number and surprises him with a flower crown of butterly orchids - another flower native to Taiwan • he straight up faints out of happiness and collects the flower crowns you make instead of utilising them • his precious • "y/n, you're really feeding my flower boy reputation" ( deja vu ) • Guanlin gifts you Dior's Miss Dior - Blooming Bouquet out of nowhere bc he can and he wants to show his appreciation and kinda feels bad you spent not your money but your time slaving over learning to cook and make flower crowns • then again....guanrich but not everything is about money • at the end of it all, he's still the same flower boy Lin Lin