#the council would get such a kick out of it if they ever heard

[tennessoui]

ohhh "summer falling through our fingers again" for the fic title prompt

oof ok ok but this is giving me like wild parent trap vibes but make it gffa, so rots almost happens but Padmé still dies and anakin takes his babies and leaves the order to become some small town mechanic on some small planet, grieving and fully committing to his children and being their father

But it’s so painful to talk about his wife that he doesn’t for years and years.

the twins grow up and don’t ask much about their mother because they see how much it hurts their father to talk about it. but they also notice that the one time he seems happiest is in the summer when obi-wan visits and stays with them for a few months a year

and anakin never bothered to tell the twins who obi-wan is to him or what their past relationship is, but obi-wan treats them all so nicely and well and they’re obviously closer than friends and their father gets so sad for weeks after obi-wan leaves

so the twins, through schoolyard input and too much holo exposure, decide that obviously obi-wan is their third parent and anakin is in love with him and obi-wan should be in love with him too because then he could stay with them all the time instead of just the summer and they could be a family and anakin would be happier all the time — so they start trying to parent trap them into getting back together, unaware that anakin and obi-wan were never together in the first place.

for their parts, anakin probably has always been at least a lil bit in love with obi-wan. and obi-wan, who is still a Jedi, finds himself feeling less and less enamored with the Jedi way every time he leaves anakin’s side at the end of the summer.

neither of them really knows what to make of the town’s sea of younglings trying to get them to kiss in increasingly obvious ways as the summer wanes into autumn though.

Send me a made-up fic title, and I’ll tell you what I would write for it

[padawansuggest]

Mace: *dragging Kenobi and Vos out of the slam poetry night by their tunic collars and stops Tholme and Jinn from leaving them behind* No, you heard our rules after last week’s incident, they’ve been banned!

Qui-Gon: *ready to argue* What in the galaxy could my sweet baby padawan have done to get kicked out?

Tholme: I must admit, despite Jinn’s willful ignorance, I understand that mine could get banned, but he never mentioned it so I would like to know what he did.

Mace: Obi-Wan wrote a poem about a galaxy wide war that gave seventeen people True Visions and I had a shatterpoint migraine till last night. So for him it’s either me or him in that room and I’m the host so it’s me.

Qui-Gon: *taking a sheepish Obi-Wan into his arms for a pity cuddle cause that poem had led to like four straight days of council sessions and an enslaved Dathomiri child being found in a senator’s house on Naboo* To be fair. Obi-Wan had some good points.

Tholme: I’m scared to ask. What did mine do?

Mace: He didn’t write a poem so he went up to the mic and started licking it. It was the most disgusting noise I ever heard. If he gets near a mic I might have to drop kick him. Safer for him out here.

Tholme: *deep sigh of sadness* Yeah that sounds like something he’d do.

[the-monkeies-girl]

I genuinely feel like caesar would freak a bit with his mate ended up having twins like my man's is like "how?-, magic dick? What?". I would probably be rare for apes to have more then one kid at a time so like twins? He's definitely confused lol.

Who sent this and how do you know I'm a twin.

Caesar would be the least surprised, I think out of all of them given he's probably heard about humans having twins so the association is there. Now, actually seeing you pregnant with twins? Terrifying, probably was shell shocked for a few days when the Ape Midwives told him.

Normal pregnancy was terrifying as is, given humans carry much larger than Female Apes do but Caesar finds it absolutely astonishing at how your body is even able to do that. Two babies in such a small space, he's marveled at it and finds himself almost always touching your stomach to keep the cargo safe ( rekcon he'd do it if you were just carrying one lol ). Hands on you at all times.

Oh my god his fear turns to subdued pride when he talks to Rocket about him and Rocket gives him minor praise for being able to not only do the impossible, but to do it twice at one time and Caesar's like in his mind 'I am the Ape King for a reason.'

And then actually having two babies once you give birth? Lord help the Ape King, carrying both of them to his council meetings while you were resting, their tiny faces pressing into his chest and making noises.

He'll definitely enlist the help of Blue Eyes though, if he feels unable to care for both at the same time. Caesar does know his weaknesses like that and it's a very, very good tactic to have Blue Eyes bond with each baby individually.

The council meetings where Blue Eyes is holding one and Caesar is holding the other and in the middle of talking about a human camp that was encroaching near the border of the Colony, they switch so each of them get to know Caesar and Blue Eyes affectionately.

GIRL/GIRL DUO LET CEASAR BE A GIRL DAD. That's it that's the thought could you imagine how protective he'd be of them? How worried he'd be knowing that they're half of you, half human and more fragile. Caesar goes straight into dad mode.

ACK THE APES OF THE COLONY FINDING YOU MATCHING CLOTHES IF THEY EVER RUMMAGE THROUGH LIKE A DEPARTMENT STORE? KILL ME NOW. Like, they throw you a little baby shower sort of thing and give you gifts and things they've found for the babies. Toys, clothing, blankets. They're all so excited for Caesar to be blessed with not one more, but two.

Caesar gets them confused, especially when they're young don't @ me. The Ape has good eye sight, but they do look remarkably similiar, their features almost carbon copies of your own and it's absolutely funny to watch him stumble when someone asks if they can hold a certain one and he offers them the wrong baby.

Oh my god him watching you breastfeed. sure, females Apes do it, he had seen Cornelia do it with Blues Eyes but this?? You talking to them while doing it? Brushing your fingers through their tiny fur lined body? Caesar is slow to approach, plucking one of them gently into his arms and relishes the feeling of their fingers grasping his fur. He holds one while you feed the other and is one of his favorite bonding activities.

Noa has no idea until you actually give birth that there were even two of them inside of you. Mind you, he's probably never seen an Echo pregnant before so your size, the jutting out nature of your stomach is definitely a sight to behold as is. Acutely protective of you at that stage, probably won't even let you up into the Eagle Enclosure because there are open walls and the walk up there is deemed spiraling and dangerous.

You're absolutely beautiful though, there's no denying that as Noa rests his face against your stomach once you're further along and feels the tiny fluttering kicks against his cheeks. Less prominent with a Female Ape, but the movement against your stretching skin is powerful and he definitely makes the joke that it's his child you're carrying as he cradles the bottom of it and tenderly gives it a stroke. You just roll your eyes but have to agree with him. Definitely his as they come around and kick at your ribs.

NOW LISTEN. Once you give birth to one, I think it would come as a complete shock to EVERYONE helping you at the time that there was another. That Dar, in her happy craze of having a grand-child, realizes you're crowning again. Chaos, there's chattering as you're suddenly pushing again and the Apes there, Noa included are scrambling as he holds the one that was already out in his arm protectively. Noa is snapping at his Mother, asking what is happening and she has no clue as another baby is taken from between your legs. Noa is in absolute shock as you're handed the other, crying and kissing their bloodied forehead. "There's... two...." He utters quietly, looking down at the one in his grasp. "two?"

Even a week later once you're in your nest of comfort, the two small bundles next to you he is absolutely shell-shocked look at them and then at you. "TWO?"

Boy/Girl Duo. ( I'm not biased you'RE BIASED. ) Best of both worlds, NOA DESERVES IT.

Surprising Soona and Anaya. Probably panicked Soona when Noa told her that there was news regarding the baby. ( presuming it to be bad ). And was shocked beyond her life when Noa showcased the first baby, and you came rolling around from Noa's back with another. The slow realization. Very slow. Soona gasps and is literally bursting at the seams as she makes her way forward, leaving Anaya who is on the ground, on his back having fainted. THERE'S TWO OF THEM?

Anaya and Soona watching over them as they're a bit older to give you and Noa some time to yourselVES. Anaya showing the baby boy his scavenged teddy bear collection, Soona is rolling her eyes holding the baby girl and tells him that they're just babies and they don't understand. Anaya knows. Anaya just likes to talk to them because they look so much like a mixture of Noa and yourself and he himself can't believe there's literally two of them???

SOONA MAKING YOU A HOLDER SO YOU CAN CARRY BOTH OF THEM? Both against your chest, both close to each other like they were in the womb. ACHHHHHH.

Do not get my STARTED ON WHAT A DOTING GRANDMOTHER DAR WOULD BE. You know she would be, with how much she loves Noa and how proud she is of him. And she's proud of you for having to deal with his antics ( at times. ) She'd give you advice because they are a hybrid ape/human and there are some aspects you're unsure of.

Blue Eyes will take it with stride, the man loves to breed, you don't think that two at one time wouldn't be an absolute TREAT? Like the confidence that would hit him when he's looking at you pregnant anyway, but the midwive Apes telling the two of you that they were able to detect two inside? He's amazed. Flabbergasted and it probably does keep him up at night occasionally if he thinks too hard about it and how statistically, it was improbable. Reality doesn't hit him until he's got two of his offspring in his hands for the first time, his gaze looking at each one individually and marveling to you how incredible it was that you managed to do this. Softly, you'll smile at him as you take one of the babies into your arms and feel your mate shifting so he could sit in front of you rather than beside you and you whisper gently, "We did this together, you know." 'Does it have a phrase? A... word. For... two?' Blue Eyes is signing with his free hand, the other caressing the tiny baby close to his chest to keep them wrapped in his warmth. You knew what he was alluding to and nodded, "Twins. That's what they're called. Two babies, one time." Blue Eyes then gets quiet as he looks at the tiny nature of the being in his arms and then sweeps his gaze towards the one you're holding as a thought rockets through him and he feels a bit of fear tingling the back of his mind as he asks you verbally, "Will... Happen... again?" You stutter a bit and look down at the two you already have. "Y-You want to have four?" 'Maybe more.'

Boy/Boy DUO BABY. It's what Blue Eyes deserves oh my god i'm sobbing.

Imagine him talking to his babies when he thinks you're asleep, both of them staring up at him in wonder as he's chattering in a very, very low tone of voice about things like hunting and how excited Blue Eyes was to take them with him some day.

OH YM GOD THE pridE FROM CAESAR when Blue Eyes finally breaks away from you and he's praising his son for doing such a good job, telling him that it was rare with humans as is and he managed to do it with you?? My god??? Blue Eyes is just beaming at himself. The Prince knows he did a good job but to hear it from his Father? MY HEART?

NAMING THEM AFTER OTHER ROMAN EMPERORS? HELLO? Marcus and Antonius ( Anton affectionately )?? The names are in honor of Caesar himself and Blue Eyes loves that your Human knowledge led him to such strong names for his sons.

Anaya faints.

That's it. That's all. Just kidding. Much like Noa, he has no idea that you're carrying two of them for much of the same reason. Has never seen an Echo pregnant before but he is adversely at your beck and call. Any cravings you want, he is on it? Want a ripe mango from the top of the tree? Anaya's got you two of them, knowing you're going to want a second when you had only asked for one. Obsessed with holding and cradling your bump, especially when you're laying on your side in the nest taking a mid day nap and he comes in, looking for something that he had left behind that he needed and he always takes a moment to place his hand on you and feel the gentle pull of the movement.

Once you're giving birth though, I have a feeling he's a bit tethered to looking at the wall rather than looking at what was happening, though Anaya is by your side the entire time, your hand digging into his palm as you give a push and the first cry hits his ears. He's a crying mess at that point, the baby being displayed by Dar who hands it up to you, Anaya pressing his hand against their head so so gently. Dar is gentle to help you ease your legs shut so you can get some comfort but?? Uh. THERE'S ANOTHER RIGHT BEHIND THE FIRST. Immediate, Anaya going soft panic launched as he's instructed to hold the one that was given to the two of you seconds ago and things are repeating themselves. From the screams, Anaya looking down in shock at the baby he was cradling, their tiny features not able to be clearly seen as they were not cleaned off yet. And within moments, there's another cry to harmonize with the one he was tendering cradling. There's... He's seeing two, handing off the one that he was holding back to you so they could join the other and tangle themselves against your chest before he is FLAT on the FLOOR and Dar is trying to get him to wake him up, calling for Noa to come help.

Boy/Boy Duo, could you imagine having tiny little Anaya's trying to STEAL FRUIT FROM THE ELDERS? They get scolded to by Noa for being little pests but it's done with lovE?

Noa and Soona finding out there's two of them? Two little Anaya's? Kill me now.

Noa had a vague idea, having to help Anaya off the floor after he fainted, and he swore he saw two little bodies then but he was not sure until he's finally invited along with Soona to the nest Anaya and you share and you're each holding one?

Soona is shocked before she smiles and nudges Noa who is way more shocked than she is, having fallen completely silent. "Said Anaya could never," He said joking towards his friends and raised the one in his arms up a bit, "Did it and ended up with two!!"

Soona and Noa weaving them tiny little bracelets so they could tell them apart and the bracelets become arm bands as they grow older, one blue and one orange. Someone sedate me.

THEM BEING RAISED WITH SOONA AND NOA'S CHILD? ANOTHER SUNSET TRIO DON'T TOUCH ME. They'd become inseparable, causing chaos throughout the village with their little antics.

Koba.

Oh my god don't look at me seriously i'm about to go FERAL.

You cannot tell me that he would not be ARROGANTLY PROUD TO KNOW that he got you pregnant with twins? Two at once baby? Of course he did, he's the best bonobo to exist and you should consider yourself lucky to even be carrying his offspring, let alone TWO of them at once.

He is an absolute legend as he's discussing with Caesar one day, your back turned to him as you were shuffling to pick something up, unable to see past your large bump and Koba was refusing to come help you ( don't worry, he just wants to let you suffer just enough before he comes to help ) and Koba is gloating, telling his closest friend that it's definitely two boys. There's no way otherwise.

TWO GIRLS FOR KOBA. He feels a bit of envy that you had gotten what you wanted, you selfish little human and he ought to rip your entire face off until he finally... finally sees them with his golden and green eyes for the first time. This, he thinks to himself, this is going to be fun.

Tearing into anyone who even looks at them. NO THEY ARE HIS YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO TAKE IN THEIR BODIES.

Tearing into anyone who even talks about them. NO THEY ARE HIS AND YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO EVEN TALK ABOUT THEM.

Adverse protectiveness over the things that are his as innate fear might hit Koba that he could lose it all ( considering what happened to his own mother. )

Asdfajkf taking them to a council meeting though because you had pestered to him that you were tired and Koba begrudgingly heading up to the perch, both of them wrapped securely for warmth and splattered against his chest as they made small noises. He's bi-pedal, Caesar raising his brow ridge upon Koba's entrance and seeing both of the babies. In silence, Koba hands Caesar one and grunts before sitting in his spot to take in the meetings, snarling at Blue Eyes next to him who was watching with too much curiosity. Koba probably getting aggressive with his hands once or twice causing the baby to cry out and he has to tone it down before rocking the tiny baby against his chest, their little fingers tucking into his thinned fur.

oh MY GOD YOU PUT LITTLE TWINE BOWS INTO THE FUR ON THEIR HEAD? One dyed red and the other dyed purple, naturally from crushed up flower petals. Koba goes ballistic on you because he ( actually doesn't but it's such a stupid vain human thing ?? ) thinks they look foolish. Scoffing, you just cross your arms and push your chest up ( good tactic for a bonobo who likes boobies, them bad boys are full of milk gulp gulp ) and he just huffs and paces back and forth.

[geekforhorror]

The reader is a senator and has just arrived on Coruscant, her ship has just landed on the platform and she is anxious to see her beloved Anakin (they are not a couple yet) she expects Anakin to be waiting for her when she gets off but it is not him ... It's Obi-Wan and she tries not to be disappointed.

Obi-Wan sensing her sadness tells her that Padmé asked the council for Anakin to be her bodyguard.

Anakin on the other hand is grumpy, knowing that he missed the chance to see you and be the one to be with you makes him feel frustrated.

Obi-Wan and the senator arrive at the senate building in that there are Anakin and Padmé, she is trying to get Anakin to talk to her, you see this and try to look away, Obi gets their attention you have no choice but to approach, Ani turns to look at you and his heart is racing just like yours but your eyes are bright with tears at the thought that Anakin might love Padmé.

The point is Anakin is not going to lose you, he is going to manage to escape Padmé and go to your apartment to confess his love for you.

I hope you like it

lovesick

pairing: aotc!anakin x senator fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n (i’m so sorry for that 🤮), sadness, angst, slight padme slander (still love u bae!), make out session, fluff.

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i honestly think this is my best and favorite fic i’ve EVER written

————

You never thought you would make it back.

You had just arrived in Coruscant after being cooped up in your ship for 16 hours straight and you thought you were going to lose it. You had traveled to Alderaan to visit your family despite being in the midst of a war. Your family was excited to see you and told you they were alright. Things were a bit hectic in the city, but what did you expect when there was a war breaking out? At least you were back where you belonged.

You sighed when your ship finally made it onto the landing strip. Before gathering your belongings, you made sure to take a quick stretch because of how demanding the long journey had been on your body. When you finally stood up, you grabbed your luggage that was in the overhead compartment and made sure to thank the pilot. The thing that made you excited the most was seeing your best friend, Anakin, after not seeing him while you were away. Don’t get it wrong, you were glad to be back in the great capital to fulfill your senator duties, but the thought of seeing Anakin filled your heart with even more joy. All you had to do was step out the door before you were reunited with him.

You open the door with a huge smile on your face, but it slowly falters once you see who was waiting for her. It was Obi-Wan. You were obviously glad to see him since he was an old friend of yours, but you felt disappointed at the fact that it wasn’t Anakin. You try to keep your manner a polite one, but the disappointment was still sinking further into your heart.

“Obi-Wan, what are you doing here?” you say playfully in an attempt to conceal your true feelings about the entire situation.

“I had to take Anakin’s place since he’s busy being Senator Amidala’s bodyguard,” he says with a slight smile. You look like a puppy who had just gotten kicked when you heard Anakin wasn’t going to be around. You tried to suppress any and all negative emotions from Obi-Wan, but it must’ve failed when he looked at you with concern.

“I know how you must feel. He’s your friend and I know you must want to see him, but he must put his duties first,” he says honestly.

He was wrong about one thing. He wasn’t just your friend. He was your crush. The two of you had met not that long ago through Padme of all people and you hit it off right away. It was as if you guys had known each other for a lifetime.

“I completely get it, master,” you say to him, understanding where he was coming from.

“Let’s walk shall we?” Obi-Wan asks rhetorically. You give him a nod before making your guys’ way towards the senator building.

—————

After having a rather fulfilling conversation with Obi-Wan, you guys finally made it to the senator building before walking in. You admire the lovely interior of the building and realized how much you missed seeing it. Even though it sounded crazy, you had grown to love the environment around you. Despite all the challenges the job of a senator possessed, you still loved it nevertheless. As you were reminiscing all the memories that had happened in that very building, something snapped you out of your wandering thoughts instantly. The sight of Padme and Anakin…together. It evoked many emotions and you couldn’t help but feel every single ounce of them. The pain, the sadness, and a slight sliver of fear.

You could see the way Padme talked to Anakin with a cheeky laugh and a smile to go with it. She looked at him with admiration and you could feel your heart sink. It gave you no choice but to look away because of the pain it caused. You knew she liked Anakin and he probably felt the same way about the brown haired senator. I mean, who wouldn’t like her? She was pretty, kind, caring… all of the traits of an amazing girlfriend. Anakin seemed to just walk smoothly by her side with his arms laying beside his hips in a nonchalant manner. Yep, he definitely liked her.

All of a sudden, you hear Obi-Wan start to talk to you and you jerk your head toward him to listen to him better. “Let’s go say hi to them,” he suggests. Before you have time to protest, he walks toward them with a pep in his step. You silently groan knowing you now have to follow him since you and him were in the pairs line of sight. This was going to be dreadful.

You notice how both Padme’s and Anakin’s eyes light up with joy the closer you get to them and you brace yourself for the interaction you were going to have with them. You knew it was going to be nothing short of awkward, especially if you couldn’t contain your mushy-gushy feelings in for Anakin during the conversation.

“Anakin, Padme… I didn’t expect to see you guys here,” you say.

“Anakin was just getting some air with me, isn’t that right?” she asks, directing her question at both you and Anakin.

“Yeah…” Anakin murmurs loud enough for you to hear.

“Well, what are you guys doing here?” she asks the two of you in a chipper voice.

“I just got back from Alderaan and Obi-Wan here decided to meet me outside of my ship,” you say with a fake happy tone in your voice as Obi-Wan smiled. You saw everything except the way Anakin was looking down at the carpeted ground with a sad look in his eyes. He missed you for so long and wanted to be the one to accompany you when you got back. Then he became Padme’s bodyguard and told he was to watch over her at all times instead of being with the one person who mattered in his life— you. He hated this arrangement more than you knew and not because he hated Padme. Not at all. He was Padme’s childhood friend and he enjoyed seeing her when he first entered the order. Yes, he harbored feelings for the senator when he was just a nine year old boy and she was the queen, but things were different now. He remembers it as an innocent type of puppy love where nothing came out of it.

“It’s good to see you guys again,” she says with a smile.

“We can say the same,” Obi-Wan says proudly.

You wanted nothing more than to say something to Anakin, but you couldn’t muster up the courage. It was agonizing knowing that you couldn’t form a sentence to the boy you liked when you knew he didn’t feel the same way about you. You could feel the tears start to strain in your eyes and you fought it with every fiber of your being even when it grew to be tiring. Somehow through the pressure, you felt something fall just below your eyelids and you knew you had failed. Tears were now cascading down your cheeks and you could feel the stinging pain that went along with it. Unknown to you, Anakin saw how stained your cheeks had become from your tears and it absolutely crushed him to see you like this. He had a feeling that you thought he didn’t feel the same way about you and all he wanted to do was tell you otherwise. He wanted to tell you that you were the most pretty, selfless, and caring person he had ever met. Similar to your situation, he had words to say, but just couldn’t get them out of his throat. You knew you had to get out of here as soon as possible if you were crying this soon into the conversation.

“Excuse me senator, I just realized I have somewhere to be. If you don’t mind, I have to excuse myself,” you say to her.

“No worries,” she replies.

“It was nice seeing you guys again. Take care,” you say with a faint smile before walking away from the group, knowing damn well that was the absolute worst and most awkward way to remove yourself from that situation. However, you knew it was for the best because of the toll it would’ve taken if you didn’t do so. You just needed to be alone right now.

“Hmm… that was rather odd,” Obi-Wan says with a confused look on his face.

————

It had been hours since you left them and returned to your apartment, which made Anakin puzzled. He was still pondering all the possible reasons you had cried and couldn’t come up with a solid reason. The thing that troubled him the most was seeing you in such a fragile state. He hated how he seemed to be the only one to notice how distraught you were yet did nothing to comfort you. He hated himself for it. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way about you since it was forbidden by the code he swore to. Plus, attachments and overwhelming feelings were seen as leading a Jedi over to the dark side. Anakin felt conflicted. The thought of never being able to fully have you suffocated every ounce of his soul. You were the tiny bit of light in his life that hadn’t burned out yet and he didn’t want that to change. Anakin knew he should be worried about other things like protecting Padme at all costs especially since he’s also in the same room as her right now.

Things had never been so boring with her like they were right now. The both of them were currently watching one of her holodramas and he could feel himself fighting the fat urge to fall asleep if it meant he wouldn’t have to watch this shit. To his surprise, Padme didn’t have the same endurance to stay up as late as him which became pretty evident as she was now yawning up a storm. He silently thanked the maker for letting the ball fall into his court in this moment.

“I think I’m going to go to bed now if that’s alright with you, Ani” she yawns.

That fucking nickname. He absolutely hated when she called him that. She had called him that when they first met as kids because it was normal, but he never thought he would hear her use it again. Quite frankly, he didn’t want her to call him that. The only person he would let call him that was you. Only you. And instead of being around you to hear the name fall from your lips, he was stuck with her.

“That’s probably a good idea,” he says, technically not lying. She nods at his comment before walking away, now entering her bedroom. He sighs when he hears the door shut, being happier than ever. The quaint atmosphere around him is deafening and he doesn’t know what to do to kill time while she’s asleep. He thinks of every possible option yet comes up with nothing. Reading? Not his thing. Watching sappy holodramas? Absolutely not.

The only thought that remained in his head as he was slumped over on the couch was you. He was imagining how he would make things right, tell you how he really felt, stuff like that. It was driving him mad. He never wanted anything more… not in this moment. Uninvited thoughts of all of the good times were flooding his mind. The times you guys laughed up a storm until it hurt, telling each other about your guys’ days, comforting the other when it was needed. Those were the highlights in his life despite not knowing you for that long. You were the best thing that happened to him and he couldn’t deny it at all. He knew he would be an absolute fool if he let you get away knowing that you were the one. With that in mind, he knew what he had to do even if it meant going against the orders of the council. He couldn’t be bothered to give a damn when you were restlessly in his thoughts. He had to see you. Right now.

He got up from the couch and quietly walked over to the front door before opening it and making his way to your door. He was feeling uneasy about the entire thing and he didn’t know why. He was truly into you— that much he knew. What he didn’t know was the territory that came with it. His entire life would change forever if he went through with admitting his true feelings for you. He would have to constantly lie to the council, sneak around with you, risk getting caught, and so many more unthinkable things. But through all of these thoughts, one thing became abundantly clear to him. He would do it all for you.

Anakin finally breaks out of his thoughts and timidly knocks on your door, feeling his heart race faster than ever. He was scared.

————

You were a mess sitting on the couch. After the interaction you shared earlier, you had become an emotional wreck. Here you were, shamelessly eating ice cream from the tub and watching your favorite holodrama in your comfiest silk pjs in an attempt to distract yourself from the pain. You were having such a great time until you heard a set of knocks against your apartment door. You wondered who could possibly be here right now at the dead of night. You groan before getting up from the comfy couch and make your way towards the door. You open it slowly until you were met with a familiar figure. It was Anakin.

“Anakin, is everything alright? What are you doing here?” you ask him.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

You hesitate for a second, but then remember how he’s always there for you when you need someone to talk to. He made you feel better when you were feeling down whether it was with his witty jokes or his contagious laugh. You knew you owed him.

“Of course,” you say with a faint smile. He steps into your apartment with an awkward stride, which was unusual because he always had a carried himself with confidence.

“Nice place you got here,” he says, now wandering around your apartment. He was deflecting.

“Ani,” you call out.

“Yeah?” he questions.

“I can tell something’s bothering you. Tell me and I’ll listen,” you say.

You can hear his breath hitch at your proposition. That much is clear. Clearly whatever he had to say was slowly eating away at him and it hurt you to see the once confident Padawan now reduced to a turtle hiding in his shell.

“It’s not that easy,” he mutters softly.

“Ani, you know you can talk to me about anything, you know that right?” you reassure.

“But this is different… It’s about you,” he finally admits.

What?… What could that possibly mean?

“About me?” you question.

“It’s complicated,” he says.

Come on Skywalker, just say it already.

“I think I can handle it,” you say with trepidation.

He sighs heavily with glints of sweat forming underneath his robes, nervous but also ready to get this over with.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

You almost look shocked and you can’t help but take a second to process his words. Anakin Skywalker, the chosen one, was in love with you? It sounded crazy just thinking about it. You felt like you were dreaming, but with the desire to never wake up. You felt your heart flutter in your chest but also quiver at the same time. It was so much to take in.

“Y-You’re in love with me?” you stammer like a fool.

“I have ever since I met you,” he admits.

“What about Padme?” you question.

“Padme? Nothing’s going on with me and Padme,” he clarifies.

“I see the way she looks at you, Anakin,” you say with a sad expression planted on your face.

“Is that why you were upset earlier? Because of Padme?” he asks, concerned for your wellbeing.

“It doesn’t matter,” you let out.

“Well it matters to me. I always care about the way you feel,” Anakin says to you.

“Then you should know how I feel right now,” you begin with dread filling your body before taking a rather shallow breath. “Truth is… I’m in love with you too,” you confess.

“You are?” he asks with confusion evident on his pretty face.

“Maker, Ani… Of course I am. I mean, why do you think I was sad about Obi-Wan greeting me instead of you?” you say.

That nickname.

“You’re not the only one,” he admits. “I wanted to see you return more than anything in the galaxy”.

“I did too,” you say softly.

That felt good to get off your chest.

“The only thing I want more than that is you,” Anakin pleads with tears threatening to spill from his gorgeous blue eyes.

It hurt to see him like this… so vulnerable and raw. Because of you.

“Trust me, I do too… It’s just not possible with the council and everything,” you counterclaim.

“I don’t care about the council,” Anakin tells you straight up.

“I can’t let you throw your entire life away for me even if we both want each other. I mean, you would be expelled from the order if they ever found out,” you say in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

It was truly bittersweet. Here you guys were, finally admitting your mutual feelings for one another before it was ruined by the fact that the council would never allow such a thing to occur. For makers sake, couldn’t they let you guys to be happy? The whole attachment rule seemed to be entirely stupid to you guys because it felt like the two of you weren’t allowed to express yourselves through romantic feelings. In short, it fucking sucked.

“They would never find out… I wouldn’t let them,” he claims.

“I don’t know about that, Ani… It’s all too risky,” you say back to him.

“I would risk anything and everything for you,” he says softly.

“Are you sure? I mean, you committed yourself to the Jedi code for life…” you stammer.

All of a sudden, he leans in closer to you as to answer your question before softly kissing you on your lips. You should be pulling away right now… it would be the right thing to do, but your feelings felt more right. Finally overcoming hesitation, you accept the kiss and maker, it was everything you’ve ever wanted in a kiss. You had imagined kissing him multiple times, but the real deal felt better than anything your mind could’ve pictured. It was soft but also full of passion. You felt like you were going to pass away, but if you were going to, at least you were doing something you loved with the boy you loved.

The two of you fall deeper into the much needed kiss which was fueled by all of the built up emotions you guys had held in for what seemed like forever. It was nothing short of bliss. He finally breaks the contact before smiling at you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he finally says to you with a fat smile on his face.

[eff4freddie]

After She Left | Five

Words: 6k

Preparations for Jackson's first ever prom are well underway, and even Ellie is helping out. As Jackson's only teacher it is, of course, your job to run the show and you'd be more than capable if one parent didn't keep distracting you.

Chapter warnings: Illusions to smut, slow burn, angsty memories of being a teenager, 'She' finally arrives. Minors DNI.

A/N: Ok, second act kicks off after this chapter. You'll get a glimpse of what that means now. Hope you enjoy!

Four | Series Masterlist | Six

Your dreams were changing. Used to waking with a chill, the echoes of loss and the face of your sister blurred in the grey clouds streaking across your dreamscape, you’d started to wake now with a warmth, a vein of light. You felt it on your skin like the first spring day out of a long, cold winter. You’d wake trying to grip its tail as it slipped from you.

The prom thing was your idea, and you only half regretted it. You’d had the idea when Isaiah had asked you what school for you was like, so fascinated by the before times, the kids trying hard to imagine classroom upon classroom filled with students all of the same age. You’d tried to explain that school wasn’t anything, really, that sometimes you didn’t even go because it was so boring, and they gawped at you, disbelieving. You felt a little sliver of shame at having wasted it, reminded yourself that was what you were supposed to do at age 14.

You’d mentioned prom, and there had been a ripple of interest throughout the room.

‘So, there was dancing? But it wasn’t the whole town, it was just you and your friends?’

‘Well, there were teachers and parents as chaperones, but…yeah, there were so many of us that it was just each grade. We got all dressed up, we had our picture taken, we had to choose dates.’

‘You went with a boy?’ Celina piped up from the front row, her nine-year-old face scandalised by the idea that you would willingly expose yourself to boy germs.

‘Yeah, well, some girls had boyfriends in their grade.’

‘Did you have a boyfriend?’ someone asked, the judgement almost silent, and you knew without looking that it was Ellie.

‘No, I didn’t. I had a crush on a boy, but it didn’t really…’

You remembered him, even now, an actual apocalypse not enough to erase the shame. You’d let your friends talk you into a promposal, standing in the bleachers as he ran track with an enormous sign that you’d spent far too many hours painting at your bestie’s kitchen table. It had heart-shaped glitter. You were especially proud of that detail.

You hadn’t realised that the entire track team would also see it, that you would need to specifically point him out in the crowd. Never had you imagined that he would dodge away from your finger, pretending to hide behind another boy, dodging your desire for him while his teammates laughed. It was enough to shrivel your heart into coal. You’re not sure you ever recovered.

You said none of that in your Jackson classroom. Instead, you focused on the decorations, that there was always a theme, that you heard the high school two towns over got Nelly Furtado to play live at theirs, but you weren’t convinced that was any more than an urban legend. They had no idea who Nelly Furtado was. You didn’t try to explain.

‘So can we have one?’ Mika asked, finally looking up from his comic book. You hadn’t thought he was paying attention.

‘A prom? Well, I’d have to talk to the town council.’

‘Tommy’s my uncle, I got an in,’ Ellie said, her face lighting up with the power of being connected, such nepotism so rare as the last vestiges of civilisation withered.

The kids grinned up at you, and you realised that maybe this was something they needed. Jackson already did Christmas, blew eggs, painted them with bees wax and dye from mashed beets and honey, and held a hunt on the first weekend of what the town council’s best guess was April. You could get the kids to decorate with paper flowers. It would be really cute to watch them decorate the mess hall, and there was probably some kind of educational value in it, too.

--

From his post, Joel watched Guillaume and Jonah, his new patrol partner, disappear into the treeline. He watched them, a little nugget of shame festering in the depths of his belly, but mostly – if he allowed himself to admit it – he was happy to have been moved to shifts on the wall. It meant he wasn’t back so late for Ellie, that he could be home to help with her homework or make her help him make dinner, and he didn’t feel so paranoid all the time when he could see the horizon. He didn’t mind the early starts, preferred the quiet up there, liked being able to turn and survey the town as much as the wilds outside it.

If he turned and leaned over a little, up on one foot on the top rung of the ladder, and leaned a little to the right he could make out the path heading up to the schoolhouse. When Billy asked him what he was doing, he explained he wanted to make sure his girl got to school OK. He generally, for the most part, broadly speaking, was referring to Ellie.

Tommy had been nice to enough not to give him shit for it, even after a bloody-nosed Guillaume took it upon himself to point out that Joel was a liability out there. Tommy had appeared on his doorstep the next morning, his brows crowding together, but Joel had spent most of the early morning on the wall, had imagined you lying in bed as he made sure to keep the nastiness away from you, and he was more ready than his little brother expected to hang up his boots.

‘M’getting older, Tommy, we talked about that,’ Joel reminded him, and Tommy nodded.

‘Still the best shot we got, and the best survivalist.’

‘Don’t mean I can’t advise if anyone asks it of me,’ he said. ‘S’not even that hard, just gotta keep your wits about ya.’ He thought for a long moment. ‘Maybe it’s gettin’ harder, now I think about it,’ he conceded.

‘Well, so long as you’re agreeable,’ Tommy said, shuffling awkwardly.

‘What would’ya have done if I wasn’t?’ Joel asked, a crooked grin forming on his face.

‘Would have taken you off patrol, but mighta felt a little bad about it,’ Tommy answered, earnest. Joel scoffed.

‘You’d pull rank, Town Councilman?’

‘Yes’sir, I would,’ Tommy said, no less earnest. Joel nodded at him.

‘Good,’ he affirmed, and saw the way Tommy expanded under the praise of his big brother. ‘You do what’s right for Jackson, always,’ Joel said, and Tommy agreed.

It was cold up there, though, the windchill on his face and his fingertips causing his whole body to tremor in his coat. It was Spring, but it was turning out to be a cold one, not a lot of warmth getting around the mountain. Joel shuffled his feet, trying to get the feeling back in his toes a little. He hadn’t brought his big coat, thinking the sun would be enough to keep him warm, but now that it was nearing the end of the day, the sun disappearing below the mountain ridge, he was counting every minute until he could clamber down and warm up.

He knew you’d be at his place already, working with Ellie at his kitchen table now that the heat had gone out of the day. He was going to try and make his beef stew tonight, had practically begged the kitchen staff to let him have a side of the meat. He hadn’t resorted to violence, but he would have.

He just wanted to thank you for everything you were doing for his daughter. Wanted to nourish your body the way you were nourishing her mind.

Billy called up to him from the bottom of the ladder. ‘Come on down, Joel, night shift’s here.’ Casting one last glance at the treeline, he vaulted down the ladder to rungs at a time.

--

You’d held a democratic process to determine the theme for the prom, but Ellie had dominated it anyway, either unfamiliar with, or just straight up unwilling to, compromise. As the day grew closer you gave up any pretence of tutoring her, working instead on cutting out yellow paper stars at Joel’s kitchen table.

‘Why does the moon change?’ Ellie asked, one day, and you’d paused for a second. You weren’t sure how bad FEDRA school was by the time she was in it, but that seemed fundamental.

‘Well, I mean, you know we’re a planet, right? That we’re like, a big round ball? Floating in the sky?’ Ellie levelled an impatient gaze at you, and you swallowed.

‘Do you think I’m an idiot?’ she asked, and you thought very hard and very fast.

‘I think you’re brilliant and FEDRA school is terrible,’ you said, diplomatically. She softened, her cheeks pinking up a little.

‘Can’t argue with you there,’ she said, quietly.

‘I mean, how much did they teach you about planets?’

‘Sweet fuck all,’ she said, plainly, and you wanted to tell her not to swear but she was in her own house, and it felt like the horse had bolted long ago in any case. ‘But I read about it as much as I can.’

‘The moon?’

‘All space… being that high up where nothing can, no-one up there who can…it’s just so cool. Were you alive when they landed on it?’

‘Ellie, that was the 60s,’ you complained, waiting for her to do the mental maths and wondering how old she thought you were, or if all adults were just ‘old’ to her, a kind of non-descript age in which you are both responsible for everything and also mere moments from shuffling off into death.

She stared at you blankly. ‘I wasn’t born for another like, twenty years,’ you said.

She nodded. ‘Oh.’

‘A lot of people didn’t even believe we really did land on the moon,’ you said. You picked up another piece of paper, your pile of stars nearly double the size of Ellie’s. She wasn’t being careful, her general distractedness was making her slow.

‘What? But wasn’t it on TV?’

‘Yes, it was, but they said it was faked.’ Her eyes blew wide at this, and you realised she was considering it. ‘Ellie, there’s no way it was faked. There are footprints up there that’ll be there forever.’

‘Guess we’ll never know, now,’ she said, quietly, and you suddenly wondered whether the space theme was such a good idea, after all, whether you were tormenting the kids with something they would never see, never have even the smallest chance to explore.’

‘Ellie…’ you said, but she wasn’t looking at you anymore, concentrating hard on her paper star.

‘It’s ok, it’ll be fun to pretend for the night,’ she said. ‘There’s a lot of pretending, won’t be too hard.’

You wanted to ask her what she meant, who she thought was pretending, but you heard heavy footsteps on the front porch and knew Joel was home. You felt your cheeks flush, your hands picking up a little tremble that make it hard to grip your scissors.

‘Hello, ladies,’ Joel said, and when you looked up, he was grinning at you both from the doorway, his hands criss-crossed over his chest as he leant on the frame. It was a domestic enough moment that you had to fight the impulse to go over to him and welcome him properly, into your arms. Ellie barely acknowledged him, because she was 14.

‘What are we making?’ he asked, picking up one of Ellie’s ‘stars’ and genuinely requiring clarification. You winced a little at it. Perhaps it could go towards the back.

‘Prom decorations,’ Ellie said, and she still seemed a little down. You watched her, carefully, trying to determine if she’d already lit her fuse.  

‘Oh, I won’t interrupt,’ Joel said, raising his hands, feeling something in the air. ‘You stayin’ to eat, Teach?’ he asked, and he hoped his voice didn’t make him sound too eager, didn’t give him away.

‘I don’t want to be a bother,’ you said, just like you always did.

‘Oh my God!’ Ellie sighed, throwing her star down in front of her and pushing her chair back. ‘Just say yes, you always end up staying anyway.’

‘Ellie!’ Joel barked at her, and she huffed, her shoulders so high they nearly touched her ears.

‘It’s true, you guys do all this polite bullshit and for what? Just say what you want and then you can get it. It’s not so hard.’

You looked over at Joel, who was staring at his likely hormonal teenager with a perplexed look on his face. You took a second to gather yourself.

‘I would love to stay for dinner, Joel, but one of these days I want you to let me cook for you both.’

Joel paused, considering this. Eyes still on Ellie, who was still quietly fuming, he nodded his head, once. ‘I would like that, Teach,’ he said, his careful tone that of every bewildered teenage-girl-Dad the world over. ‘Ellie, I want you to go wash up before dinner, then I want you to peel the carrots.’

She stood up, stomping to the washroom. You concentrated hard on the paper in your hands, hoping it was enough to stifle your smile.

‘I want to know what the fuck that was about,’ Joel said to you, but smiling.

‘I want to remind you there’s nothing worse than being a teenage girl,’ you replied.

--

You stood, wobbling on the end of a step ladder, hanging up the stars. Tommy found some string lights and put them up around the mess hall, and Johnny and his assembly of post-apocalyptic musicians set up in the corner. You and Tommy had already pushed all the tables back against the wall to make a dance floor. As you worked, he regaled you with his favourite memories of his own prom, most of which seemed to involve trying to get up the skirt of someone called Tammy Schmidt. She’d never let him anywhere near her, and you told Tommy to his face she was right to do it.

‘You would have been Tommy and Tammy,’ you said, and he started to giggle. Actually giggle.

‘That was the appeal!’ he said, sheepish. ‘I figured it sounded like those made-up celebrity names.’

‘Brangelina,’ you said, and he grinned.

‘Tomammy,’ he replied, and you rolled your eyes.

After everything was set up you went home to get dressed, pulling out a little black number foraged from the bottom of Maria’s wardrobe. She had complained she was never going to get back into it, and you had waved her off. It made you feel silly and out of place and pretty and ridiculous, and you liked the way it swished when you walked. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d swished anywhere. It felt so normal you weren’t sure you could trust it.

When you arrived back at the mess hall the lights had been dimmed, and Johnny and his band were starting to warm up. With the lights down and the paper streamers and stars you could forget for a moment it wasn’t a normal prom, a real one. You felt a surge of pride in your belly, looked around at the tangible good.

You heard the doors to the mess hall swing open, followed by shrieks and laughter and multiple sets of rapidly advancing feet.

‘Oh my god it’s so amazing!’ Mika said, his face illuminated by the warm glow of the string lights, of the smile stretching his cheeks.

‘This is cool,’ Dina said, quietly, up the back, and you grinned. Something in you, some teenage part of you, was quietly relieved.

More kids arrived, some trailed by their parents, and you busied yourself setting up the orange juice and cola station. The kitchen had done little sandwiches and finger food and you wanted to make sure the kids ate, worried you’d send them home on empty stomachs and sugar pinging through their veins. That their parents would never forgive you, and that they would be right.

As soon as the band started up you stepped back, letting the kids swarm the plates and start to dance. You wanted to join them but you also felt a pull back to the edge of the room, kept thinking you were seeing snatches of your sister in the half-light, of you as a girl. You weren’t sure what the feeling was, some kind of melancholic nostalgia, some kind of longing for something that didn’t make sense to you. You’d never even liked prom that much, had mostly just gone because everyone else was. But it was different seeing one from the other side: from the other side of adolescences, from the other side of the end of the world. It felt precious and sad and joyful, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to turn away from it or bottle it up and store it safe under the bed.

You kept wondering if this was what your 14-year-old self ever envisioned for herself, if she could have envisioned anything so apocalyptic at all.

The doors swung open again, and you exhaled the breath you didn’t realise you were holding when Ellie strode in, almost skipping, her face titled up to the ceiling to see all her decorations hanging in the rafters. ‘Holy shit!’ you heard her exclaim, and you cringed a little, trying to avoid the eyes of the parents. You would have to speak to her about that, eventually.

You turned to pour yourself a juice, the acid tingling at the back of your teeth, before you heard heavy footsteps behind you, even over the thrum of the music and of Ellie grabbing Mika and swinging him around the dancefloor.

‘Hey, Teach,’ Joel said, his baritone rumbling out from his chest. You suppressed a shiver.

‘Joel,’ you turned to him, allowing the surprise to show on your face. ‘What are you doing here?’ You were ignoring that he was standing in black suit pants and a white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, maybe a size too big, you couldn’t be sure. He’d done his hair, or had made an attempt at it, maybe running water through it and in the humidity of the room it had started to curl. You were alarmed at how distinctly you wanted to lean forward and sink your teeth into his neck, to lave at the skin there, to feel his pulse with your tongue.

You swallowed, the juice catching in your throat and making you splutter. Suddenly Joel was beside you, an enormous warm hand between your shoulder blades as you fought, doubled over, for breath.

‘Easy, easy,’ he was saying, and you wanted to slam your eyes shut and imagine him whispering exactly that as he slid inside you, as he rocked into you and felt your cunt quiver around his length. Jesus Christ, you were going to spontaneously combust.

‘Sorry, went down the wrong hole,’ you said, fluttering your hand in front of your face in the hope it would ward him off somewhat. As you straightened, he let his hand slide down your spine and away just as he reached the small of your back, and you felt your spine arch towards where his touch had been.

Fucks sake, you needed to get it together. You were like some horny teenager at, well, prom.

‘Tommy had something he needed to do at home, something with the baby.’

‘Is he OK? Is Maria Ok?’

‘Yeah, they’re fine, the baby just has a sniffle and I believe Maria’s exact words were “you’re not going out there to watch teenagers marinate in their hormones while I sit at home being snotted on by your crotch fruit”.’

You gaped at him. ‘Maria did not say crotch fruit.’

‘Might have put my spin on that bit,’ Joel said, grinning.

For his part, Joel was watching your eyes so that he wouldn’t look down at your dress, a little black flitty number that came up to your knees and down close enough on your chest that when you leant over trying to get your breath he had to move away to resist the urge to stare at the swell of your breasts, instead coming to stand beside you and placing his hand on your back just to try and keep himself standing. You were so fuckin’ pretty, done your hair all up nice. He wanted to swivel you around, tuck you into his chest and nibble on the nape of your neck, put his nose in your hair and inhale as he flipped that silly little skirt over your rear, letting one hand wonder over your cheeks as he slid further down, cupping and probing, into the slick between your legs.

Christ on a cracker, he needed to get it together. He was behaving like Tommy at, well, prom.

‘Place looks great,’ he said, his voice slightly strangled. You gazed up at him, taking a second to comprehend his words.

‘Thanks, Ellie did amazing work with the stars,’ you said, and you knew he knew you were lying, and you also knew he was a good enough Dad that he was going to let you get away with it.

‘She certainly has her own style,’ Joel replied, eyeing one particularly wonky cutout you had strategically placed in a dark corner.

You turned to watch the kids dance, Ellie’s hair bouncing around her face as she twisted her hips, holding Mika’s hand as she did.

‘She’s really gravitated towards him,’ you commented, and you looked over at Joel just in time to see a cloud pass over his face.

‘He probably reminds her of…’ he said, but then he trailed off, recalibrated. ‘He’s a sweet kid, so it makes sense,’ he finished.

‘Oh, speaking of sweet, Billy loves having you on the wall,’ you said, smiling at him and watching him blush.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked, and you swore you could see genuine anxiety on his face.

‘Big Bad Joel Miller helping out? Billy getting to tell you what to do? He’s like a pig in shit.’

Joel could feel the heat on his cheeks and was powerless to stop it. ‘Big Bad Joel Miller,’ he echoed, feeling the words on his tongue, seeing how they tasted. ‘Not sure about that.’

‘You must know there are stories,’ you said, leaning into him a little, goading him a little, wanting to see if you could get him to crack and tell you something about himself.

‘Don’t pay any of that much mind,’ he said. ‘Don’t reckon any of ‘em are close to the truth.’

‘Well, no they can’t be,’ you agreed, quickly, feeling like the conversation was slipping from you and not really knowing why.

‘Not sure there are words for some of the shit I’ve…seen,’ he said, and he saw the shift in your face, the shock before you covered it, and he knew that he’d scared you a little, but there were things he didn’t want to talk about, shit that he’d had to do to get Ellie here, to get her to be able to forget the cost of it all. Big Bad Joel Miller. No one had any fucking clue.

He looked over at you, at the way you had sunk into yourself, and he cursed himself. You were too sweet, too warm, and he’d gone and thrown a wet rag on your fire. If you knew about him you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him. He took a step back, too. You’d made him forget for a second, that he was no good to anyone. Especially not to someone like you.

You were lost in your thoughts, watching the kids again but not really seeing. It wasn’t even what Joel had said, although you felt the way he was pushing you away, and you went willingly. It was that as he spoke you realised, finally realised, what the feeling was that had been pulling at you all night.

You were fucking lonely. 14-year-old you might have been OK with the QZ stuff, with what you had to do to survive, with keeping your sister alive along as you could, with making sure her death meant something, even just until they cleared her body away. 14-year-old you might have even been OK with the teaching, although that would take some convincing. But the fact that you were alone, that you were nearing 40 and hadn’t ever really loved anyone other than your family, hadn’t ever really had anyone love you. OK, so you hadn’t married Jonathan Taylor Thomas, in the circumstances maybe for that you got a pass. But that you weren’t with anyone, that you had wanted love for yourself and never got it, that you had wanted to belong in that most specific way and you hadn’t, hadn’t ever really come home. 14-year-old you was screaming and howling and gnashing her teeth. You’d failed her, failed the both of you.

You were horrified to feel a tightness across your throat, the heat building behind your eyes. You needed to get away from all these people, needed to go and pity yourself in peace.

‘I just need some air,’ you said, barely above a whisper, pushing past Joel with your face turned away lest he see your eyes growing redder and wetter by the second.

‘Teach…’ he called after you, but you were gone, heading straight to the door, not seeing Ellie turn to follow Joel’s voice, to see you making a break for it, turning back to him with her hands in the air.

Joel felt his stomach drop, staring back at Ellie with panic written all over his face.

‘What did you do?’ she mouthed to him, and he shrugged, helpless. He’d pushed you away, had shut you down, had been rude and cruel and cold. But he had no idea how to mouth that to his teenage daughter across a dance floor. ‘GO AFTER HER’ Ellie whisper-screamed at him, and it jolted him, got his feet moving before he’d even given it another thought.

You were standing under the awning a couple of paces from the door, leaning on the railing and sucking in the chill of the air. You realised when you heard the door swing open that you’d cornered yourself, cursed yourself for getting all your years in the QZ.

‘Teach,’ he said, and you hung your head. ‘M’sorry, I didn’t mean to…’

‘Wasn’t you, wasn’t that, I just…I needed to breathe for a second.’

Joel paused, watching the way your shoulders rose and fell, sharp and insistent, as you gathered yourself.

He took a step forward towards you, saw the way you flinched and turned away, and stopped, deciding instead to sit on the steps, giving you space but not too much, distance but enough that he could reach out for you if you wanted him to.

‘I did a lot of things to get here,’ he said, after a while. The hair stood up on the back of your neck. ‘I ain’t ashamed of ‘em, I’d do ‘em all again to keep her safe, you understand?’ he asked, and you nodded, still with your back half-turned. ‘Never regretted getting her here, both of us, to safety and to family.’ You nodded again. You knew all of this, had lived all of this, but you didn’t stop him, couldn’t turn to look at him, just let him talk because you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. ‘What bothers me, Teach, is that Big Bad Joel Miller might be too old to do ‘em again.’

You felt a pull towards him, turned your body to peer at his face. He was staring down main street, avoiding looking at you, too.

‘What if I can’t keep her safe?’ he asked, almost to himself. You swallowed, moving towards him, sucked into his gravitational pull. As you sank down beside him on the step, he shuffled to make room for you, but you didn’t want distance, leaning further over so that your shoulders touched. He was so warm even in the chill of the night. You wanted him to take your hands and blow warm breath onto them, smile and put them on his chest to warm them even though the cold of your skin stung him.

‘She’s so capable, Joel,’ you said. ‘You did that. She’ll keep herself safe, soon.’

‘She’s just a kid,’ Joel said, but he wasn’t attacking, just stating a fact.

‘I wasn’t much older on outbreak day,’ you said, simply.

‘Lotsa girls her age weren’t so lucky,’ he replied, quiet.

Blood smattered all over a pink and purple tee-shirt. Curls caked in blood and mud. He swallowed.

‘I know that,’ you said, after a while. Joel watched your face. He saw that it was true, that you knew.

‘S’what was it, if it wasn’t me being so rude to ya?’ he asked, after a long silence that would have made his bones itch if he’d been sharing it with anyone else but you. You shied away a little, and he watched as you started to recede. ‘Hey,’ he said, reprising the conversation from the night at the kitchen table. ‘I want you to tell me what’s up,’ he said, and you smiled, faintly, recognising what he was doing.

‘Prom, I guess. Memories. I don’t know.’ You paused, tried to form the words. ‘It’s all about promise, isn’t it, being a kid and being in high school and doing all of these…rites of passages. There’s an assumption about how things will go. We all make ‘em, made ‘em. Guess it’s hard when they didn’t come true.’

Joel nodded. He wanted to pull you into his lap and rock you, gentle and soft in the night, feel your warm breath on his neck as you pushed your fingertips through the buttonholes of his shirt.

‘Most of the time I’m OK,’ you went on, trying to repair it, slink back under your shell, your slimy snail body suddenly exposed to the elements.

‘Everyone’s OK til they ain’t.’ Joel said. He turned to look at you, swivelled his body to yours so that your knees rested against his. His eyes were so deep and dark in the streetlights, his brows saddled as he petitioned you. ‘I don’t mind it, Teach. You can be all of it with me.’

You felt your heart gallop in your chest, heat suddenly in your belly.

‘So can you, Big Bad Joel Miller,’ you told him, smiling but earnest, wanting him to believe it was true. ‘I’ll take whatever you got,’ you said.

There was a moment, Joel knew, when he could pull back from it. That this was that moment, when he could turn away from you, could crack a joke or make some excuse to head back inside. Could get up and bolt for the gate, swing it open and face whatever demons were out in the darkness so as not to have to face his own. He knew this was the moment of no return, for him.

He looked down at your lips, painted red for prom and so soft, so plump. Your skin soft and glowing so gently in the light. How many more times was he going to have to resist you by porchlight? How many times could he?

‘Joel…’ you whispered, edging yourself closer to him, leaning in without even really thinking about it, watching him mirror you and Joel knew the moment had passed, that your little whimper of his name was branded on his chest, that he would parade it around town for you, would bare it to anyone who wanted to lay their claim.

Your hair was soft, so soft, in his palms as he pulled you into him, his lips crashing into yours, your mouth opening to welcome him, tongue dancing across his. He groaned, from deep down in his belly, for the want of it, for the way his tummy flipped at his first taste of you.

You were pretty sure you were dead. It was the only explanation. But if this was heaven then so fucking be it, because Joel was cupping your face in his hands, and his kiss was insistent and gentle and he was guiding you through it, teasing you open as you felt the hinge of your jaw creak under the pressure of your want for him. You weren’t sure you were breathing. You weren’t sure you cared.

He was pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you into him, the weird angle meaning both sets of knees were in the way. You considered vaulting over the top of him, riding him on the steps of the mess hall while a bunch of teenagers supposedly under your charge danced under paper stars, but you had the wherewithal to hold back, to pry yourself from him, to lean your forehead on his and catch your breath.

Granted, you didn’t have a lot of experience. But you’d never had a kiss that felt like that.

‘Teach,’ Joel said, so quiet and just for you, and you could hear that he was out of breath, that his chest was heaving, that he was fighting it back just as hard as you. He lifted his head and gazed at you, the look of naked desire on his face such that you wanted it to be photographed, painted, hung in a gallery and studied by future generations.

Then, alarms. And yes, you thought, that felt about right. Everything had just shifted off its axis, after all, it made sense that the universe was now screaming.

Except it sounded weirdly familiar. Kind of like the one that you pulled when there was a problem at the gate.

You turned your head down main street as you saw the flood lights come on. You were up, Joel just behind you, as you and your little swishy dress headed towards it, front doors ripping open around you, men and women pulling on jackets over their pyjamas, arming themselves for war.

‘State your business!’ you heard Billy yell from the top of the gate, his rifle trained at a hard angle just beneath him. Jesus, they were close, you realised. Nearly right up on the iron.

You couldn’t hear the reply, vaulting up the ladder without thinking, without a weapon, leaving Joel to defend the gate.

‘State your business!’ Billy called again, and you came up beside him, peeping over the edge to report back on what you could see. There were three of them, that you could see from here. You scanned the treeline, the floodlights turning the trees into fingers scratching harsh at the night sky.

‘Where they come from, Billy?’ you asked, and he gestured with his head over to the right. You picked up the binoculars and scanned.

‘Can’t see any others,’ you reported back, going to the other side and holding up three fingers to the crowd.

‘We’re just passing through,’ the man called back, ‘saw your lights and thought…we’re injured.’

‘Injured how?’ Billy called. You could hear murmuring beneath you, a plan being hatched.

‘One of us is a woman. We were ambushed. They took everything we have, nearly took her but she got away.’

You peered down over the gate, could see that a woman was indeed holding her arm in a sling, her face pale. She was wavering, like she was ready to collapse.

You heard footsteps on the ladder, felt it sway the wall as Tommy appeared beside you.

‘Whatdya reckon?’ he asked you, his eyes focussed but his breath coming in short and fast.

‘They’re telling the truth so far,’ you said, ‘best I can tell.’

You stepped out of the way, Tommy taking your place at the wall while Billy stayed fixed, his gun unwavering from the strangers.

You heard a gasp, a kind of choking shock. ‘No fucking way,’ Tommy said, and you peered over his shoulder again, trying to figure out what he could see. ‘Shauna?’ he called down, the woman’s face snapping up to him, a shaky hand covering her eyes to make him out.

‘Tommy?’ she asked, as though she was dead and found herself at the gates of heaven, surprisingly less gilded than expected. You swallowed, saw Billy’s hold on the gun waver.

‘Open the gates!’ Tommy called, before turning back to the strangers. ‘Hands up and come forward slowly, I’ll meet you there.’

‘Who is that, Tommy?’ you asked him, grabbing at him as he made to hurry past.

‘It’s Shauna,’ he said, his face pale and disbelieving. ‘Where’s Joel?’

‘Who the fuck is Shauna?’ you asked, every nerve ending screaming.

‘She’s Sarah’s mom,’ he said, before he disappeared down the ladder, calling for Joel as he went.

‘Who the fuck is Sarah?’ Billy said to you, his gun lowered but eyeballing the group all the same.

You had no idea.

Taglist (let me know if you want to be on it)

@harriedandharassed

@vickie5446

@kaseyconnour

@orcasoul

@missladym1981

@spacesoutdaydreamer

@tangled-tumbler-blog-blog

@fancyyoouu

@anoverwhelmingdin

[flowerandblood]

The sweetest fruit (7)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Valyrian! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, fluff, mention of rape attempt, violence ]

[description: (Anon Request) Aemond is to meet his future wife from Essos, in whose veins runs the blood of Old Valyria. They’ve been engaged since they were kids, but he’s in no hurry to get married and he’s not happy about her arrival. His future wife, however, turns out to be someone completely different than he expected. Smut, angst and a lot of sexual tension.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Namyss spoke to her Lady, stroking her head, her other servants hugging her. She couldn't get a word out. She was in shock, her breathing ragged and unsteady. She was unable to cry. Men in Volantis had tried to steal a kiss or touch her against her will, but no one had ever tried to rape her.

She did not look up from the floor even when her husband entered her chamber, alerted by the guard that there had been an incident between her and his brother. He froze for a moment when he saw her red, puffy cheek, which was turning more and more blue.

"Leave us." He spoke softly, and her maids released her, speaking comforting words to her, leaving one by one, looking at her worried and terrified. Aemond approached her slowly and knelt in front of her. He wanted to grab her chin to make her look at him, but she pulled away. She heard him swallow hard.

"What did he want?" He asked with a slightly trembling voice. She was silent for a moment.

"You know what." She whispered, her eyes empty.

He knelt beside her, silent. She felt his entire body tense in the air, but she didn't look at him. After a while he left, opening the door of her chamber with a loud slam.

He stormed into Aegon's bedroom with a fury he had never felt before. Before his brother could say anything, he punched him in the face, knocking him to the table. Aegon elbowed him in the stomach, and he snapped in half. They started to wrestle and scuffle.

"I'll fucking kill you." He hissed, slamming his body against the wall, knocking over a small table with dishes on the table which shattered with a clang. Aegon tried to wrestle away, kicking him in the calves, but it seemed to him that due to his rage and adrenaline he felt no pain at all.

"I didn't do anything to her, you moron!" He panted, but Aemond didn't care.

"But you fucking wanted to." He hissed, lifting him up by his clothes. "You wanted to rape her."

Aegon laughed, blood trickling from his nose in a thin stream.

"You can't rape a whore."

Hearing this, Aemond pulled a dagger from his belt and put it to his neck. They were both breathing heavily, Aegon staring at him in horror. Aemond thought that if he killed him his mother would stop grieving, Helaena would have peace of mind. After his father death he would become prince-regent and his wife would be his queen.

It would be as it should be.

"Aemond!" He heard his mother's distressed voice. He shuddered and hesitated, pressing his lips together. He still held the blade to his throat, before his eye a vision of his brother, pinning his sobbing wife to the floor, pulling down his pants.

"Please!" She said imploringly.

"Leave him, my prince." He heard a second voice, Ser Criston's. "What happens to him is up to the king."

***

Lady Vhassar was summoned with Namyss to the small council hall. Her maid was terrified, but her Lady assured her that she would not lose a hair on her head. She would never let them hurt her.

She walked inside with her head held high, fearless, showing off her bruised cheek, which was now completely swollen. Aemond looked away at the sight, unable to look at her, barely sitting still. The king, seeing her, sighed softly. Aegon tapped his finger nervously on the table, sitting across from the queen. Ser Criston stood over them all.

"Tell us what happened, sweet child." The king said softly, nodding encouragingly at her. Lady Vhassar decided that she would tell everything in detail. After what he had done to her she was no longer afraid of anything.

"While I was in my quarters this morning, Prince Aegon came to me unannounced. I got up and said that if he didn't leave, I would scream loudly. He said: maybe you'd rather moan with me in pleasure instead. I know the women of Essos like such games. For example, having two brothers at once." She spoke in a clear, slightly trembling voice.

The queen hid her face in her hands upon hearing the last sentence. Aemond looked at Aegon as if he wanted to pounce on him and strangle him in front of everyone with his own hands. Lady Vhassar continued.

"I screamed. He punched me in the face and I fell. I was on the ground and he…" She hesitated for a moment, the memory painfully hitting her.

She felt tears in her eyes, but she didn't want to cry. She pursed her lips tightly, holding back her convulsions at the memory of his hands on her thighs. She wanted to vomit. She felt her husband looking at her intensely, his trembling fist clenched on the table in front of him.

"…h-he pulled my legs to him and he said: 'I wanted to do it in a nice way." She said, her voice breaking at the end. She felt her heart start pounding, she couldn't get the next words out.

"Enough." The queen stood up, seeing her condition, her eyes full of pain. She walked over to her and hugged her tight, like a mother hugging her daughter.

Lady Vhassar felt as if her own mother were hugging her, and only then did she allow herself to sob loudly. Aemond looked at them as if he was about to cry himself, shaking with rage and helplessness, his jaw tense and petrified. There was silence in the room.

Aegon laughed, shaking his head, looking down at his fingers.

"Nice theater. I didn't do anything to her. I just came to tell her that a brothel is no place for a lady and that she shouldn't bring my brother down to her level. That's all." He grunted, her words having no effect on him. His mother looked at him with contempt.

"You still have the audacity to talk? Hm?" She asked him enraged, no one in the room dared to speak.

"You bring me and your father nothing but shame and disappointment. Look at you. How are you not ashamed of yourself?!" She screamed the last sentence with pain, looking him straight in the eyes.

Aegon pursed his lips, tears now welling up in his eyes, only with fury. The queen laughed helplessly and shook her head.

"You are not son of mine."

***

Lady Vhassar was able to leave the council and return to her quarters. The king and queen were to decide together what to do with their eldest son and what punishment to give him. Knowing what he did in the past they didn't believe his lies. So did her husband.

He followed her, catching up with her, taking her arm gently. She couldn't look him in the eye. Even though Aegon hadn't touched her in the end, she felt dirty.

"I want a bath." She said softly. Aemond swallowed hard.

"I will command that it be prepared for you in my chamber." He spoke softly. She shook her head.

"I'll take a bath in my chamber, alone." She replied.

"I want you to move into my chamber." He answered her quietly. Only now did she look at him, surprised.

Spouses of their status always lived in separate chambers, according to good custom.

"My mother consented. No one will hurt you in my rooms."

She stared at him for a moment. She placed her forehead on his chest, finally allowing him to really touch her. He wrapped his arms around her painfully tight, his hands clenching the fabric of her gown, his nose pressed against her flower-scented neck.

"Let's take a bath together."

***

Aemond had several bowls of raspberries from the royal garden and vases of wildflowers brought to his chambers. Her maids brought her favorite bath oils. He wanted her to feel better after the horror that had befallen her in his absence.

He thought he had failed as a husband and a men. He didn't protect her. He didn't want to think about what Aegon would have done if Namyss hadn't heard her scream.

When she entered his chamber she looked around in surprise, remembering that the first time she had visited him everything was different. Her vanity table and chests were moved into his room, her things and books were arranged around. Aemond saw, looking at her resignedly, that her cheek was all blue, a limo appeared under her eye.

She approached him hesitantly, lowering her eyes. They stood in awkward silence for a moment. He pulled her gently to him and hugged her to his chest, burying his hand in her soft hair. He kissed her head gently once in a while, inhaling her pleasant scent that had been driving him crazy for the last few days.

He felt her hands from his back slid down to his chest, undoing the top of his robes. He let her, looking at her sweet face, full, glossy lips, glowing eyes, long, black lashes.

"If my mother had not entered his chamber I would have killed him." He said softly. His wife froze, looking at him in surprise. She swallowed hard at the seriousness of his voice.

"I'd slit his throat, cut off his cock, and I'd bring it to you on a silver platter." He whispered. There was something terrifying in his eye, that made her shiver with both terror and desire. She touched his cheek with her hand, and he immediately buried his face in her hand, kissing her skin.

"I know, my sweet husband." She said tenderly and he looked at her, pain and despair in his eye.

"If you don't want me to touch you for some time now, I'll understand." He spoke low, almost in a whisper. She blinked, swallowing softly. She shook her head.

"No. Let's take a bath and make love. I want to get rid of the disgusting feeling of his hands on my thighs. I want you to make me forget." She whispered pleadingly.

They kissed, tenderly and helplessly, touching the tips of their noses, running their hands over each other's faces. They touched each other as if they were fragile china, carefully and subtly, comforting each other.

They took a long bath, relaxing. She lay in the water pressed against his chest between his thighs, feeling how hard he was because of the closeness of her naked body. His fingers traced up and down her wet back, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. They enjoyed each other's closeness and scent, trying to forget about the morning.

After bathing, Aemond took her to bed, drying them both thoroughly. Their hot bodies touched the pleasantly cold sheets, giving them a sense of comfort and relief.

His kisses on her face, neck, shoulders and breasts were like the touch of a butterfly, soft and subtle, full of respect and devotion. She thought, looking at him that she couldn't lie to herself any longer. She was falling in love with him. She stroked his long, white, slightly damp hair, feeling the desire rising in her.

Neither of them was in a hurry. They kissed and touched for a long time, running their fingers over each other's bodies, breathing faster and faster, panting into each other's mouths, licking each other with a sweet, sticky sound, sucking and massaging each other's lips. His lips brushed against hers with a wet, loud click.

He touched her long and meticulously between her thighs, slowly caressing her clit in circular motions, sliding down to her entrance once in a while, tasting how wet she was. As her hips finally began to respond to his movements, he laid down on top of her, nestling between her thighs, pressing his chest against hers. He kissed her forehead and asked if she still wanted it. She nodded.

He entered her gently and didn't move for a moment, kissing her. He began to move slowly and tenderly, his manhood pushing against her throbbing, hot, wet walls, making them both gasp with pleasure. She thought it was wonderful that he was inside her now, that he would come inside her and make her feel like she was his alone again.

She pressed his face against hers, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly, her hands intertwined in his hair. She felt that they were one flesh, literally and figuratively. That she really was his wife, his destiny, chosen by the gods. She moaned in pleasure as he sped up, his cock penetrating her harder, unable to stop himself.

"Do you want me to stop?" He gasped, thrusting his cock into her in a quick, intense rhythm, his thighs slapping loudly against her buttocks.

"No, it feels so good" She whispered, feeling that this was what she needed. Him deep inside her, making her feel safe again in his strong arms, holding her tight. Her hips responded greedily to his every thrust, her core tightening on him, eliciting soft moans from his mouth.

"I'm about to cum in you, sweet wife" He whispered in delight, panting low. She felt her nipples harden at his words. He slid his hand again to her clit, which he had stimulated to the limit earlier, sore and swollen from caressing. She leaned back, moaning softly.

"Please, I need it" She mumbled loudly. He moaned helplessly at her words, surprised. He thrusted in her for the last time and came inside her, panting low, pumping his cock into her for a moment longer, continuing to massage her.

"Oh yes, Aemond, yes" She whispered, leaning back, feeling his hot cum spill over her insides, filling her wonderfully, making her feel clean again, filled only with him. She came after a while, her orgasm hot and sweet, spreading in waves, relaxing her aching muscles.

Aemond turned with her on his side, without putting his member out of her. They snuggled into each other's wet bodies, breathing fast. She felt, pressed against his chest, how hard his heart was pounding.

She kissed the place where she felt his heartbeat, tender and long, sending a shiver through his body. He stroked her hair, swallowing hard, as he hugged her tighter. She felt like telling him. That she feels ready for it.

"I'm afraid I fell in love with you, my sweet husband."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondsfavouritebastard @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @bellameshipper

Others: @ethereallocs @bellameshipper @tssf-imagines @menaosama @it-is-getting-better @danielle-leah1997 @czegochceszlol @strangersunghoon

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐢𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐣𝐫...

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: headcannons pertaining your growing relationship with the trollhunter.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jim lake jr x fem!reader

When you met Jim, it was a normal day of school.

At least, for you it was.

For Jim, he had just been approached by two giant stone creatures telling him that he’s now their protector, and then he was attacked by an evil troll who totally kicked his ass.

But you couldn’t have known that, so it was just a normal school day.

You’d always known he existed, having gone to school with him since Kindergarten. 

But you’d never been friends, that was for sure. 

A few days before you had signed up to be a history tutor, needing some school approved service hours.

And just your luck, you had a session scheduled with Jim Lake Jr.

He was jittery, that was the first thing you realized. His eyes couldn’t stay focused on one thing for longer than two seconds, always jumping to the window.

You had been reaching for your pencil case, which was in your bag under the table. That was when you noticed his bruised up arms. Frozen in place, you also saw a large gash peeking out from his pant leg, just visible on his ankle.

It wasn’t your place to say anything, you knew. You barely knew Jim! But still… was he is trouble?

The thought distracted you, causing you to hit the back of your head on the underside of the table.

Wincing, you raised your head, spying Jim giving you a concerned look. You found yourself giving him a similar, more extreme stare. 

“So… I think we were on the Ottoman Empire in class, right?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t think you could, not without asking. It became too much after an awkward second, and you blurted out the question. “Jim, did somebody hurt you?”

The way his face lost its color sent a shiver down your spine.

He laughed a laugh that was clearly forced—strangled even. “What makes you ask that?”

“Jim… Look at you. You’re all scratched up.”

A thick silence follows your tentative declaration.

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “I, uhm, I tried to ride my bike down the side of the canal. It didn’t go so well, as you can see.”

It was a good excuse, you thought, but did you believe it? Not for a second. It took you only a few moments before your eyes narrowed and you scooted your chair closer to his. 

Jim thought you looked murderous the longer he was locked in contact with your eyes. 

“Was it Steve Palchuk? ‘Cause if it was we need to say something. This is beyond bullying, Jim.”

What was he supposed to say? Oh, nah, don’t worry, Y/N. I was just beaten to near death by a stone giant last night. No biggy.

She’d walk him to an asylum herself.

Apparently, Jim took too long to respond, which to you was an response enough. You scoffed to yourself, shoving back in your seat with crossed arms. “I cannot believe that bitch. He won’t get away with this.”

Jim just fiddled with his pencil, eyes on his textbook. He didn’t know much about Y/N L/N, but he knew she was a force to be reckoned with. Ever since elementary school she’d taken charge in city clean ups, protested in cities as far as D.C., made speeches that changed the minds of Arcadia’s city council and their school board.

When she was mad about something, everyone knew, and she wouldn’t be placated till there was a change.

Jim had to hide his smirk behind his palm; he could just imagine Steve receiving the flame that the girl beside him would unleash. 

He had to ask, “What’re you gonna do?”

Your answer was instantaneous. “Talk to him, I think. I know him well enough, us being cousins and all.”

That was a shock for sure.

A day later, Jim was walking into school when he heard the tell tale sound of your voice. He turned the corner, stopping short at the sight before him.

You, at least a head shorter than Steve, had the poor guy gripped by the ear and pulled down to your height. Jim didn’t stick around to listen to what you were saying, seeing the fury all over your face and not wanting either of you to spy him loitering there.

But Jim had to admit, the look of terror on Steve’s face was hilarious.

After that, your tutoring sessions became more and more natural over time. The conversation drifted away from history and toward other things like interests and fun stories. 

Not only that, but the time drew on longer till it wasn’t so much a tutoring session as much as it was just two friends hanging out.

It didn’t take long for Jim to realize he enjoyed spending time with you much more than he wanted to.

Much more than he wanted to.

He thinks he realized how much he actually liked you around a few months before everything went to shit.

Jim offered to walk you home when the session dragged on so long that the moon had risen into the sky.

“You don’t live too far from me, I don’t mind.”

It was as they neared your driveway that he caught sight of Blinky from the corner of his eye, shooting fear straight to his heart. 

The many-eyed troll was rustling in the bushes, tailing him and you. You were oblivious, going on about the pranks you had planned for the upcoming April Fools Day. 

Jim wanted to be listening to you, mostly so he could avoid your schemes, but also because he enjoyed the lightheartedness with which you spoke. It was a nice change from the woe he heard whenever he entered Trollmarket. But he couldn’t give you the focus he wanted with Blinky just seven feet form being spotted.

“Welp,” you sighed. “This is where we part.”

Disappointment was on both of your minds as you smiled at each other. 

He managed to hold it together when, after a moment of hesitation, you lurched forward to wrap him in a hug. Surprised, he glanced up over your shoulder to see Blinky giving him four thumbs ups.

He used one arm to hug you back, and the other to flip the troll off. 

Being the Trollhunter was dangerous for not only Jim and everyone involved. And as the two of you started to hang out without the pretense of you being his tutor, he swore to himself that you would never find out his secret.

But as you grew closer, it became increasingly difficult to hide anything from you. 

You always found his new injuries and scrapes and even once somehow detected his bruised ribs. After a while, you became suspicious, no longer assuming your cousin was behind it. 

You didn’t want to assume anything severe, but you had to worry about his home life. 

You knew his mother—you’d met Dr. Lake when you ended up sitting together to watch Jim in Romeo and Juliet—and you didn’t get the feeling she would ever get… physical with him. The very thought made you shudder.

If not that, then what was it? Jim didn’t seem the street fighter type. It caused you more worry than you’d like to admit.

Over the past few months of knowing Jim Lake Jr., you think you’d be comfortable calling him your best friend. You two spent nearly everyday talking, whether it was between class or on the phone every once in a while. 

And it was obvious to everyone except to you that there was chemistry.

It caused Toby some anguish to say the least. 

Speaking of which, you’d grown closer with Jim’s best friend too, something you hadn’t expected.

Toby was a good friend to you, always taking time out of his day to ask about yours, questioning your every “It was fine” and demanding to know what was so “fine” about it. In return, he offered his own tales of misery, getting a laugh out of you nearly every time. 

You didn’t notice how he physically grimaced whenever you brushed off his attempts at finding out what you thought about ol’ Jimbo.

Moving on from all of that, to you, things were going great! Your grades could be better, but you had better friends than you’d ever had before. Added to your ranks was Claire Nuñez, and over time… well, you had to admit that you were suspicious.

Jim’s crush on Claire had been ever so obvious ever since the fourth grade, but that wasn’t it (Or rather, you hoped that wasn’t it). 

No matter how much you told yourself you were paranoid, you thought the three of them were hiding something. 

It hurt to say the least. You were friends… right? Did friends keep secrets?

This was what you thought as you sat alone during lunch, contemplating the way Jim, Toby, and Claire made some poor excuse about having to go to a chess club meeting.

You knew they weren’t a part of the chess club. You were president of the chess club. How did they not know that? Were they that bad at lying? Or did they not care if you knew how much they actually hated you?

…

You were overthinking. They didn’t hate you. Jim certainly didn’t, you think. He was so kind and caring and thoughtful… your cheeks burned red at the thoughts running across your mind… you shook your head, reasoning that there must be an explanation that didn’t involve thier secret vendetta against you.

You just had to find out what it was.

But as they abandoned you more and more for their secret escapades, and as they ditched you to work on group projects alone, and they generally lied time and time again… you grew tired of the confusion.

Your cousin was starting to warm up to you, something about his brutish personality shifting over the course of that school year. He noticed first how you sat alone at lunch, and then he looked around at his table full of kids… and realized he too was alone—in a mental sense, that is.

So he picked up his tray and bag and trudged over to your table in the corner of the lunchroom. 

The look of shock on your face didn’t fade away till he was sitting there across from you, and you deduced that he probably wasn’t here to tease you.

The conversation was slow at first, even dull, just small talk, but then he caught sight of the comic book tucked under your lunch tray. 

He hesitated, knowing his friends at the other table had made fun of him for liking those sort of things… but you had never done that before. Steve could trust you... probably.

So he asks you about it, and you go into a long winded explanation of it, only for him to interrupt with, “I know what it is… I’ve got the entire set back home.”

You blinked, shocked, and you thought that maybe your cousin Steve wasn’t so terrible after all.

Your friends wanted to ditch you? Fine. You’d make yourself useful and stop being their deadweight. It was somewhat freeing, no matter how much it pained you to sweep past Jim’s sweet smile and ready sandwich (made just how you like it). But it was for the best. You couldn’t stand the way they treated you.

It was only a month after you severed ties with them that you realized how much they’d impacted you.

You no longer found Nougat Nummies that Toby had put in your backpack. You could no longer ask Claire for help with studying. You couldn’t waltz into Jim’s house like you owned the place, hop up onto his counter, and spiel on and on about whatever was on your mind while Jim cooked food around the kitchen.

You might’ve missed that last one more than the other memories.

You might’ve missed Jim more than the others.

And you might’ve liked him a bit too much too.

On Jim’s side, he knew why you’d grown distant. It pained him to keep such a big secret from you, especially when he could see it was hurting you, but what else could he do? Tell you he’s the Trollhunter?

No. Jim would never do that to you. If you knew, then they would find you. You’d wind up hurt. It was bad enough he’d dragged Claire into all this, but you? Jim couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. 

He didn’t think about how much not having you in his life would hurt.

Maybe a month goes by, and the two of you get back to a steady rhythm without the other. Unbeknownst to you, your old friends were preparing for war.

How could you know? How could you have prepared? Simple. You couldn’t have.

So that’s why, the night of the school dance, instead of going to that stupid party just to stand alone in the corner, you decided you would be getting your answers.

What spurred this sudden quest? You didn’t know. But you needed to know what you did wrong. What had you done to drive Jim away?

So that’s how you ended up on his doorstep at just the wrong moment. 

Before you knocked on the door, you heard crashing and shouting from inside. 

Your heart raced. Were you right about Jim being hurt at home. You decided to raise your voice. “Jim?! Jim, are you in there!”

Inside, Jim heard your yells, and a pang of fear swelled up in him. 

He stood in armor of glowing silver beside his high school principal, who looked nothing like the lanky man everyone knew him as, yet appeared as a green skinned creature with jagged wings. A changeling.

And across from him was an ancient entity, with eyes blank and voidish, and a smirk that sent shivers down the boys spine. Angor Rot.

The fight had gone still at the sound of your pounding fist against the door. Jim didn’t like the sadistic gleam in Angor’s dark eyes. 

“Jim! Open this door! Are you all right?!”

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

This couldn’t be happening. He’d tried so hard to keep safe, to keep you away from all of this!

He should’ve known better; you weren’t so easily shoved off, and you never knew when to quit.

Angor swept to greet you with Jim hot on his tail, swinging his sword wildly.

He was too late. 

A long story short, you were way in over your head with this one. 

Being the hostage of a centuries old… thing was so not on your bucket list. Yet, here you were, shaking as Angor Rot held a dagger to your neck. His entire being stenched of age, and you had to hold in your gagging lest it push you forth into the blade.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t knwo what was happening. But you knew Jim was there. He was right there, wearing his armor from Romeo and Juliet and wielding the same prop sword that didn’t look so prop-like now. 

He was right there, and he was looking at you, and you were looking at him, and you were both terrified.

“Jim,” you whispered, scared that even the slight word would force your skin forth and the knife would slit her neck. “Jim, what’s going on?”

Angor chuckled darkly as he peered down at you. “Ah, that’s right. You have no idea what your friend has been doing in the shadows.”

Your gaze was directed at Jim, your jaw shaky and your eyes wide with confusion. “What–?”

“So, Trollhunter,” Angor seethed. “Shall we risk your flower’s life today?”

You hadn’t been killed, fortunately. It all happened so fast, and all you really remembered was Jim fighting that thing, the changeling happening to be your principal, Dr. Lake in mortal danger, and an underground city of stone creatures.

The same underground city you now sat in, the boy of the hour right beside you. Neither of you had said a word since everything calmed down. It was driving you mad.

You raised your eyes to see Dr. Lake standing nearby, safe now that the battle with Angor was over. Then you swiveled to face Jim, your face screwed up. 

“Jim… who are you?”

He didn’t have much of a choice. You’d seen all you’d seen, hurt and fought alongside him despite never lifting a weapon against anyone in all your life. You deserved the truth.

“I’m the Trollhunter.”

It took nearly an hour for him to explain everything, and when it was all said and done, your jaw was hanging open. You now sat on the step below him, looking up at the boy you now knew was so terribly brave. Everything he’d gone through… it nearly made you forgive him.

You’d known Jim Lake Jr. as one thing for months and months, and now it seemed he was something entirely different. 

He wasn’t a scared kid who needed you to defend him to your ex-jerk of a cousin. He was strong and held himself with a certain dignity and humility that you envied. Yeah, he was awkward and foolish at times—foolish like when he ditched you just to keep you safe, which you supposed was understandable given that night’s events—but you liked him anyway.

You really liked him, despite all the pain and confusion and this fast turn of events. 

He hadn’t changed, you realized as you just stared up at him whilst he awaited what you would say. 

He was Jim, the boy you could have called your best friend had anyone asked, and the boy you had slowly harbored a crush on.

It was this thought process that made you lock eyes with him. You didn’t like secrets, and you hated lying. You sucked in a breath and put everything out in the open for him to see. 

“I like you, Jim.” The words were harder than you thought. “You don’t have to like me too, I just needed to say it. I want to be your friend no matter what, and I guess I can understand why you’d keep this from me. I just… I need you to know you can trust me.”

There. There it was. A confession, an offer, a pledge. It was everything you needed to say. 

And as you forced yourself to keep looking at Jim, you saw his eyes flutter and his jaw hang a bit. You felt slightly nauseous as your words came back to your memory. Had you said something you shouldn’t have?

“You like me?”

It was your time to blink blankly. That was all he got from that? You cracked a grin, not knowing where this was going. “Yeah. I really like you.”

He couldn’t believe it. He thought surely you would hate him, or at the very least never want to see his face again. But you liked him? Even after all that? After all the lies?

You liked him back?

Jim smiled, hand reaching for yours, itching to grab your hand, only for him to pull back at the awkward last second.

You tilted your head, wondering just what you were getting yourself into as you took his hand and gripped it tight.

Trollmarket was in shambles all around. Jim’s mother’s memory was wiped. His principal was a changeling. Enrique was in the Darklands. But you were there, and you were on his side.

Still, he had secrets to keep. Secrets from you, Toby, Claire, Blinky. Everyone. 

So as he dropped your hand with a subtle drop to his smile, he thought back to all that had happened, all that had been lost, and all that could be lost in the future.

“I like you too,” said Jim. You didn’t notice how his eyes filled with pain as he excused himself to deal with some Trollhunter business. 

You didn’t realize that might’ve been the last time you saw him as he turned away and walked off in a hurry.

How could you have known? You were new to this. You had no clue about the bridge or Enrique or Jim’s promise to Claire.

So when you saw Claire and Toby run by with panicked expressions, you were quick to rush after them. You had no clue what was going on, but you’d always been quick on the uptake.

Jim was going someplace he should not be going alone. He was leaving them all behind to go there. He was going to the Darklands.

You had just gotten him back, and now, he was ditching you again. 

Sure, it was meant to be heroic, but you just wanted your best friend to stick around for a little while.

Weeks go by, and you assist in Claire and Toby’s search for a way to save Jim. Eventually you help to free him, somehow managing to survive a short traipse through the Darklands.

It was safe to say you weren’t letting Jim get too out of sight for a time after that, and he wasn’t going to complain.

He never kept anything from you again, admitting it was torture to keep lying to you and keep you at a distance.

Jim often felt so out of touch with the rest of the world, being stuck in the middle of human and troll lives, and it was easy for him to disassociate and just brush everyone off. It was days like those that Jim was glad he had you.

“Jim?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

You’d only sigh, catching the way he kept zoning out, getting lost in his own head. In your opinion, he’d been through too much to be only sixteen. So you took his hand or drew him in for a hug or just slung an arm around him--any of the like would do.

Instantly, his nerves would calm and his attention drawn back to the present. 

“You don’t have to be fine, you know.”

He hadn’t known that, not really. Not until he met you.

Those all around you two would notice a distinct change in Jim’s demeanor, so subtle yet so clear. He was somehow softer, which Toby hadn’t thought possible, and the light in his eyes began to spark up again.

His mother was especially grateful, loving the life you brought back into Jim. Blinky adored your very nature. Draal tolerated your eagerness to train with him. Vendel mused your every demanding question.

It wasn’t long before Jim got nervous; you were now one more person he couldn’t stand losing.

But you never let his thoughts run too wild, somehow always one step ahead of his overthinking, ready to put out every doubt and every fear.

“Hey, listen. You’re stuck with me, Lake. Nothing, especially not Bular or Gunmar or any other creep, is ever going to keep me from getting back to you.”

He wasn’t sure how to express just how much you meant to him, so he settled for a watery grin. “Back at you.”

I love you was just a breath away from being spoken into reality, but neither you nor Jim were eager to shove it out there. The fact was there whether it was spoken or not, and the both fo you were well aware of its presence.

[certifiedskywalker]

Anything More - Rhaenyra Targaryen

On Dragonstone, you ask something of Rhaenyra in the hopes of assuaging your fears; but the Princess fears you ask for something she cannot give.

“You should be in bed.”

Her voice came on a soft sea breeze, though it carried with it a coarseness that whispered of a freshly broken sleep, like a tide breaching a salty, shattered shore. When you turned from the stone arches of the open balcony to face her, Rhaenyra looked of the sea too. Her long, white-blonde hair tumbled over her bare, pale shoulders and melted into the softness of the sheets that gathered about her covered form in satin-like waves. Even from where you stood, paces between you and her, Rhaenyra’s eyes shone like sea glass and tumbled stones.

She spoke again, like a siren from the sun-kissed Summer Isles. “Come back to bed, my love.”

“Is that an order from the Princess of Dragonstone?”

“Perhaps,” Rhaenyra murmured, a soft smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Who am I to refuse, then?” You asked, stepping from the mouth of the balcony and into the main chamber, shedding your worried thoughts along with your night robe.

Quickly, you found that, even if you wanted to, you couldn’t refuse, not when Rhaenyra looked like that. Her expression livened as you approached, light eyes alight and pink blooming across her cheeks. Eagerly, she kicked the covers open with her bare legs, pale skin shining in the breaking dawn’s light. At the sight, your mind flashed to last night, how Rhaenyra’s legs brushed along yours, tangling and untangling. 

Just as it did then, the dragon carved into the stone wall watched you fall into bed beside the Princess. Rhaenyra welcomed you with her outstretched arms and flushed flesh.

“If I had my way,” she began once you settled on top of her, face resting in the crook of her neck, “we would never leave this bed.”

You felt the words rumbling up her chest, her throat, and watched them fall so easily from her lips. It could be just that easy too, though that worried you so, how easy Rhaenyra could bend her future rule, get lost in it. “You could, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“Have it your way,” you clarified, raising a careful hand to trace the point of her chin. Rhaenyra turned he head to look at you then, her smile wider than before, sweeter even.

“When I am Queen, I imagine my duties will drive me from bed often. You’ll have to keep it warm in my absence. I do hope you find that a befitting station.”

“Ah, yes,” you sighed, fond hand falling from Rhaenyra’s face. “Royal Bed-Warmer.”

“‘Tis the most important role in the Small Council,” she teased, moving out from under you to lean over you. Her light eyes drank in your features and you watched her smile shrink into a frown. “What is it?”

“I-” You began to speak but a sudden ache swelled up in your chest, your throat, and numbed your lips to words. Rhaenyra’s brows furrowed in concern and a wandering hand brushed along your hairline. She leaned down and pressed searingly soft kisses in the spots traced by her fingertips. It was as if the Princess were trying to coax the words out of you.

“My love, tell me. Please.”

Stinging behind your eyes forced the matter and your head away from Rhaenyra’s lips. When she pulled away, you found the wherewithal to speak in the space between you.

“You will be Queen.”

“I will,” Rhaenyra murmured, “and yet you sound hateful of the notion. What would you rather I do? Shall I renounce myself? Bid my father to disinherit me, retract my claim?”

At her barrage of questions, you moved to look at the Princess once more. Rhaenyra was sat up, bare back turned to you and hands holding back her long, white hair as if the strands were doubt itself made material. She would not have it cloud her vision. Nor would she have what she assumed your worries were keep her from the Throne.

“I will not,” she said, her voice colder than you had ever heard it before. “I cannot.”

You shook your head and moved to sit up, tears slipping out of your eyes as you did. “No, I would never- I am not asking that of you. Rhaenyra-”

“Then what?” As she asked, the Princess craned her neck, letting her gaze fall on you. Fierceness glinted in her eyes and, never having been the target of her blaze, it sent a chill down your spine. 

Yet, she looked like that, like the powerful woman you loved. So, you reached for her anyway.

“I am scared you’ll forget me,” you blurted, your hands resting on her back; her skin was hot to the touch with all the fire in her blood. “It is selfish, I am selfish, but I want- I ask that you remember me in your bed while you are Queen. Whether you remember me now or however I am then. I…I am sorry.”

“No,” Rhaenyra murmured, her tone turning tender the moment an apology fell from your lips. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you were…my love, I could never forget you. How could I when you ask for so little from me? You give, you sweet creature, come here.”

Rhaenyra took your extended hand and pulled you to her. Her lips met yours in a fervor, all warm and wandering as you tangled together once more in the morning Sun. Neither of you could ask for anything more.

[alicentflorent]

I think Alicent knows no one would be able to control Aemond. Or as she said to Rhaenys guide him. I even heard someone saying Aemond would kick her out of the council in episode 6 or 7 and Cole would have to choose between her and Aemond. He will choose Alicent and they'll go to crownlands together. Later she'll go to Oldtown to reunite with Daeron. Do you tthink this is possible?

I agree. Ever since Aemond killed Lucerys I think she sees a darkness in him. For the longest time she saw him as the dutiful son, the son who she would rely on for emotional support that his darker nature probably went unnoticed by alicent because he was fulfilling his role in the family. What the show fails to include is that kinslaying is considered the worst possible crime you can commit in Westeros and when Aemond killed his nephew he became a kinslayer. it's actually kind of crazy that no one on the council took issue with Aemond being a kinslayer.

I read some leaks that said that is where her story is heading too. Although what I read said he kicks her out of the red keep - which would be more in character for alicent because no way would she just leave Helaena (unless she tries to get Helaena to leave but Helaena sides with Aemond?) and despite what some people think, she wouldn't just abandon Aegon in critical condition when she suspects Aemond of being the cause. I'm hoping this is true though because they clearly don't know what to do with her at court and if done right this could be an interesting storyline where we get to see alicent outside of her castle/prison, away from her children and eventually going to join Daeron and guiding him in a Robb and Catelyn kind of storyline. There were shots in the trailer of her standing by a lake and walking through a field so I'm inclined to believe it's true.

I think it'll be interesting if she isn't in KL when it is taken because she will assume Aegon is dead and she will know Helaena is a hostage who could be going through hell and be punished at any time for the greens crimes against Rhaenyra. I don't know if I trust Condal to not have Alicent as a hostage and instead getting a Catelyn style plot though. Oh and another thing I read was Larys will be Aegon's only visitor when Alicent leaves which could have Aegon believing Alicent, Criston etc were all plotting against him, which would make for an interesting plot.

[verybadatwriting]

The Cyborg's Apprentice Part 2

Summary: Reader finds a way out of serving the Sith. Or so they think.

Warnings: Reader goes on a mental health/self discovery journey, neck wounds, and trackers

Notes: Part 1 and part 1.5 here

Gn!reader, teen!reader, Sith!reader

Word Count: 4,031

Light rain pattered against the window, occasionally broken by a violent crack of lightning. They didn’t go together. The rain was barely more than a drizzle, one that children could dance in, but the lightning was fierce enough to make some adults cower in fear.

Ahsokah was neither an adult, nor a child. So instead of dancing or cowering, she studied. She’d found some interesting writings on meditation, and was trying her best to follow the steps. The soft rain helped her get into the zone, and the lighting was a good test of concentration.

One thing kept nagging at her. It had been quite a few days since she’d heard from you. Maybe you’d been found out, and Grievous had ordered that your conversations stop. There was another possibility, one she dreaded even more than the last. What if you had sunk even deeper into the dark side, and decided to cut off communication all on your own? You could be devotedly fighting against the Republic on some far-flung planet.

A peal of thunder rumbled outside, and she pulled herself back to her meditations. If you were countless parsecs away, there was nothing she could do. 

Little did she know, the two of you were mere miles apart, and you were growing ever closer. Your hood stayed up over your head, concealing your face. With help from the Force, you managed to circumnavigate the security measures, and began ascending the side of the Temple.

When you reached the right window, you could see Ahsoka sitting there cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, with a scroll unrolled in front of her. The lights were on, just enough to read by. It was shockingly sparse. Only a bed, low to the ground, and a small table.

Hesitating, you raised your fist to knock on the window. What if this was a mistake? You coming here could endanger Ahsoka, get her in trouble with the Jedi Council, kicked out, even. 

But… You needed her right now. There was nowhere else to go, no one else who could understand. So, you lightly tapped your knuckles against the transparisteel.

Her head darted towards the unexpected sound at the window, and when she saw you, her face was filled with confusion. She said something you couldn’t hear, and when you tried to tell her as much, she motioned for you to wait.

Turning, she picked up one of her lightsabers, and drove it into the window. Within a moment, a circular chunk was missing.

“Y/n?” She said, just barely loud enough to be heard.

“Hey 'Soka.” You said, then promptly tumbled through the hole. She grabbed you a moment before you hit the floor, and helped you sit against the wall.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. “It’s not safe for you!”

“I… I didn’t know where else to go.” At that moment, Ahsoka noticed that blood was trickling down your neck.

“Maker, Y/n.” She said, pushing your cloak out of the way so she could see the cut. “How did this happen? Who did this?”

“I did.” You said. “I had to. Grievous had a tracker implanted in my neck.”

Once she had stopped the bleeding from your neck, Ahsoka’s eyes darted over the rest of you. Your clothes were dirty and wrinkled, like they hadn’t been washed in a few days. You had a few minor scrapes and bruises, but you were tired. Every breath took effort, and your eyes were filled with fear.

“Y/n,” Ahsoka started, “How are you going to get back to Grievous’s ship?”

“I’m not going back.” You said. “I can’t go back.”

“Well, I can’t hide you here.”

“Tano, I would never ask you to.” 

“What do you suggest I do?” She asked.

“Turn me in.” You said, and Ahoska gave you an astonished look. “It’s the only way you don’t get in trouble with the Council, and I stay safe from the Sith.”

A moment passed, one in which the two of you just sat, inches apart, taking in the gravity of the situation.

“Can we just have a few more moments?” She finally asked. 

“Of course, ‘Soka.”

When Ahsoka called for the guards, they clapped specially-crafted Mandalorian manacles onto your wrists, and brought you to the medic, who patched up the back of your neck. They locked you in a small cell until the Council could be assembled. Waiting there was the worst part. It gave you plenty of time to sit and reflect.

Ever since your encounter with Ahsoka at the ruined temple, the two of you would avoid each other on the battlefield. One night, you received an encrypted message. It was just one short question.

Why did you let me go?

And you replied with the simple, honest, answer.

I don’t know.

From that point on, you become each other's confidants. Strategic information was never shared, since the consequences of espionage were much worse than simply fraternizing with the enemy, but more personal matters– doubts, dreams, dreads– were all fair game. Because of this, Ahsoka knew things about you that you wouldn’t dare tell anyone else and vice versa.

She first suggested you join the Jedi a few months after you started talking. Deep down, you knew what the Sith were doing wasn’t right, but years of conditioning and propaganda with just enough truth sprinkled in was hard to break away from. So you declined her offer.

Again, when you were stranded on a planet with her, she brought up the idea. She even suggested you could fake your death and go back to the Temple with her. It was tempting, and she had convinced you that the Sith were doing more harm than good. Ultimately, the idea didn’t pan out.

You were pulled out of your reminiscing when the guards came to escort you to the Council Chamber. The twelve Jedi Masters were seated in a circle, and you were guided to the middle. 

“Y/n y/l/n.” Began a man with dark skin and a bald head. “We know you are a Separatist, and the apprentice of General Grievous. You have fought against the Republic and the Jedi Order for years, taking down waves of our troops and foiling countless missions. Today you are brought before the Council in a strange turn of events including but not limited to breaking into the Jedi Temple.”

“Your side,” Said a short shriveled green man, “You now must tell us.”

“I was a Separatist,” You said, “But I have turned against Grievous and the entirety of the dark side of the force. I wish to study at the Jedi Temple, but I understand you have your reservations, and that it is a real possibility that I will spend the rest of my days in a cell.

“For now, the CIS are unaware that I have defected, but when they do figure it out, they will hunt me down. I have only one request: Wherever you lock me up, make sure it has the best of security.”

“We will see.” The bald man said. “We have further questions. Why did you go to Ahsoka Tano?”

“She and I met before, during multiple battles.” You replied simply, casting a glance towards the door, where Ahsoka was standing with her master Anakin. “And I felt that our similarity in age would help me gain her trust.”

The questioning went on for a little while longer, until, satisfied with your answers, the green man spoke.

“A moment we must have,” He said, “To discuss. Back to your cell, you will go. Call you we will, when a decision we have reached.”

On your way out, you exchanged the briefest of glances with Ahsoka. A look of thanks passed between the two of you, like Ahsoka grateful you did not bring up your secret correspondence. 

Not too long later, you were called back to the Council Chamber.

“It has been decided that you will be welcomed into the Order,” Said the bald jedi, who you learned was Mace Windu. “You will live here, and be trained in the light side of the force.”

“Thank you!” You said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Padawan Tano and Master Kenobi, you should thank.” Said Yoda. “Spoke on your behalf, they did.”

“Understand that there are caveats to this agreement.” Master Windu continued, “You will stay on the Temple grounds with supervision at all times. You will not be allowed access to your lightsabers, or communication to anyone outside the Temple.”

“Of course,” Obi Wan jumped in, “You will also provide us with any and all future CIS plans.”

“Of course.” You nodded, just happy they weren’t shipping you off to a prison planet, or executing you here and now. Once the rules were all laid out, they had the guards show you to your room. It was as bare as Ahsoka’s, except it was equipped with a security camera, and the windows were too small to fit through.

A short time later, Ahsoka joined you. She brought some robes and some scrolls for you, along with dinner.

“Honestly,” She said as the two of you sat cross legged on the floor, “I was surprised they let you in.”

“Me too.” You said, scooping up a bite from your bowl. “I thought the whole ‘fighting against you all in a war’ thing would’ve given them a bit more pause.”

“Yes, that,” Ahsoka agreed, “But also, you’re really old.”

“Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow at her. “I am, like, a few months older than you at most.”

“I know that, Y/n,” She scoffed, “What I meant is that Anakin is one of the oldest people they���ve agreed to train, and even then there were some grumblings about it.”

“Well,” You shrugged, “They already agreed. Can’t go back now!” You had another bite. “How old was Anakin? I can’t be that much older.”

“He was nine.”

“Oh.”

Ahsoka left to go to bed, but said she’d be back in the morning to take you to breakfast and show you around the Temple. 

“I’ve got a few day’s shore leave,” She said as she was leaving, “But after that I’ve gotta keep kicking Separatist butt.”

True to her word, the next morning she was in your room right as you finished getting dressed.

“Do you know where I should put these?” You said, holding up your old Sith robes. The red and black patterning stood out harshly against the soft neutral colors of the room.

“The laundry basket’s in the closet.” She said, nodding her head in its direction. “Let’s go, we’re burning daylight here. The sun’s been up for nearly a half hour! By the time we get to the Refectory, all the good food’s gonna be gone.”

Just as Ahsoka predicted, there was no good food left. After breakfast – which wasn’t all that bad – Ahsoka brought you to a quiet, dimly lit room, then left. Inside was a small group of people, mostly children, seated in a circle around an older Jedi. 

She beckoned you to an empty cushion on the ground, and briefly explained that they were practicing silent meditation, and that the goal was to completely quiet your mind and body.

One of the conditions of your staying here was getting some training to combat the Sith teachings, so here you were, meditating cross-legged with a class of children. The silence sank into your bones, at first you tried to fight it, but when it eventually settled, you found yourself with a strange sense of peace.

You did as the instructor said, and whenever a thought or feeling entered your mind you acknowledged it, and let it drift away. For a moment you felt the anger and pain drift away, too. It was like a weight had been eased off your mind.

But when your concentration wavered, the weight settled on you once more. 

After meditation the older Jedi led your group to the refectory. Ahsoka met up with you there. In the afternoon neither you nor Ahsoka had any obligations, so you spent it in the gardens. There, you saw a Jedi digging through the dirt holding a plant with wide heart-shaped leaves. The edges faded to green, while the rest was a pleasing pinkish red. 

“Oh hello!” Said the Jedi, straightening up from his work, “Have you come to help out in the garden?”

“Uh…” You glanced at Ahsoka, unsure what to say. 

“We would love to.” She said. So that afternoon was spent working peacefully in the garden. The Jedi you were working with was old, like your meditation instructor. He had the odd tendency to be silent for many minutes, state something completely out of the blue, and immediately go back to silence.

“Gardening used to be a popular activity among the Jedi.” He said, “Everyone from Younglings to geezers like me would be up here, digging through the dirt.” He said wistfully, “But that was before the war. Now we’ve got children out there fighting. It’s just us old folks holding down the fort here. Keeping the Younglings learning and such. You two are the only teenagers I’ve seen around here in a long time.” 

“I will be here for a while.” You said, “If that’s any consolation.”

“Hm.” He grunted, and pleasant silence descended again. 

And so went your days. Dinners with Ahsoka cross-legged on the floor, classes in restraining anger, teaching morality, and afternoons in the gardens, and weekly check-ins with the Jedi Council. You were still getting into the groove of things, when one night Ahsoka told you she had to leave.

“Wait what?” You asked, nearly choking on the bite of food in your mouth, “Already? It’s only been a few days!”

“I know,” Ahsoka said, “I know, but this war still needs fighting.” 

“Do you at least know when you’ll be back?” You asked, eyes downcast and voice full of sadness.

“No.” Ahsoka saw the look in your eyes, she continued, “But your information has been invaluable. We’re winning, Y/n. The end is in sight. Soon no one will have to fight.”

“Yeah.” You said. “That’s… Comforting I guess. I just wish that I could talk to you, while you’re gone.”

“We could ask the Council to make an exception to the ‘no outside contact’ rule,” She suggested, “Say that you need someone your age to talk to.”

“That might work,” You said, “I’ll still miss you though.”

“I know. I’ll miss you, too.”

You were granted permission to talk with Ahsoka while she was gone. Nothing about her locations or missions, and they read all your messages before sending them, but it meant you got to preserve the friendship. 

When she finally returned, it was like you were a different person. You happily wore the brown robes, tended the gardens, meditated, and lived without fear. The lessons you had been taught were sinking in, and the peace that came with them washed over every aspect of your life. 

The moment she got back, Ahsoka started looking for you. She found you in the gardens, watering and digging. Your entire demeanor had shifted. You carried yourself like you knew you belonged, and yet humbly. You dutifully attended to your work, and Ahsoka felt more at peace simply being in the same room as you.

“Y/n.” She said. You poked your head up from the bushes, and smiled at her.

“Hey Tano.” You said, brushing your hands off against your robe and standing up, “I’m glad to see you again.”

The two of you walked through the Temple together, talking for hours. 

“You…” She started, “I’ve only been gone a few weeks, but you seem so different now. Happier.”

“That’s because I am.” You said, “Happier, that is. I’m finally discovering peace.”

“Good.” She smiled at you, “Because you deserve it.”

The night before Ahsoka left again, she brought you dinner.

“Hey Y/n.” She said, holding a greasy bag up, “I brought you some food from Dex’s, since refectory food is all nutrition, hold the flavor.” Just like that first night, you sat on the floor of your room, and talked late into the night.

“Imma miss you.” You said as Ahsoka was just about to step through the door.

“I know,” Ahsoka paused, “But I have some good news. My friend Barriss Offee’s gonna be here for a bit. I think you’ll like her.”

And sure enough, you and Barriss hit it off. She was a little older than Ahsoka, and was able to give you some guidance. She often joined you in the garden, or for meditation. 

She was interested in your swap from the Seperatist’s side, perhaps a little too interested. She often asked about what you were taught as a Sith, which made you uncomfortable. Whenever that came up you steered the conversation away.

It was probably just her naturally investigative personality. That's another thing you liked about her, she was smart. You could point to any plant, painting, or carving in the Temple and she knew something interesting about it.

Occasionally, she would share her doubts about the Order with you. It reminded you of your secret correspondence with Ahsoka, back before you joined the Jedi, so you indulged her. Her concerns were similar to those Ahsoka had, mostly centered around the war, but they were different. These weren't just lamentations that the world was messed up and the Jedi Order needed reform, they were more like subtle hints that the Order itself was the problem. 

It was almost like she was probing you to see if you shared these beliefs. You brushed it off the first few times, but as the hints became less subtle, and her ideas less like ideas and more like plans, you resolved to tell the Council at your next weekly check in. It was just a few days away. In the meantime, you compiled all the worrying things you’d heard Barriss say so you could show them to the Council. 

The day finally came, and as you walked down the hall to the Council Chamber, you had your head buried in a tablet, going over what Barriss said one last time. You tucked it away just before entering the room. 

It was dark. The room was empty, except for one man lurking in the shadows. He stepped forward, and you saw it was Obi-Wan.

“They thought it would be better if you heard it from me,” he said. You were close with Obi-Wan, and often sought him out for advice. He stuck up for you during the Council’s private discussion, since he truly believed in you.

“Master Kenobi,” You said, “Is everything okay? Where are the other Masters? Is Ahsoka in trouble–”

“No,” He interrupted, “She’s fine. I’m here to return these to you.” He opened a small box, which contained your Sith robes. They seemed familiar and yet out of place. Just a relic of a part of your life that was long gone.

“Why would I need these?” You asked. Kenoi stayed silent. Searching for an answer, you looked at his face. His eyes were filled with regret and resolve.

“I’m so sorry.” He said.

“Why would I need these?” You asked again, voice more serious.

“You are part of a prisoner exchange.”

“No.” You shook your head, “No, I can’t go back. I’m not going back! They’ll kill me! Master Kenobi please-”

“They don’t know you defected.” He said, once again interrupting you.

“Then where do they think I was?” You questioned.

“As far as they know, you were imprisoned by the Republic.”

“How is this fair?” You spat, “I betrayed the CIS, the Sith, and everyone I used to know for a chance at joining the Order, and this is how it repays me? By manipulating me to get all the information it needed and then sending me back to the very same evils I fled? 

“The Jedi Council never manipulated you.” Obi-Wan said, his voice infuriatingly serene and steady.

“Really?” You scoffed. “You imprisoned me, and didn’t even bother to let me know. I trusted you.” 

Your voice lowered to barely above a horse whisper. 

“You let me believe I had a future here.”

“I thought you did, too.” He said, “I’m sorry.”

“Can I at least say goodbye?” You asked after a moment of silence. Tears started to gather in the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. 

“No.” He replied. “We have to leave now.” 

You nodded, and followed him to a transport shuttle. It took about a day of travel to get to the exchange point. First you took a small shuttle, then a larger ship, a landing pod, and finally you rode on the back of Cody’s speeder. The whole time you didn’t utter a single word. 

It was a remote planet. Just farms with little to no strategic value. You were wearing your Sith robes once more, and your arms were shackled behind you to align with your ‘prisoner of war’ story. You’d gotten there before Grievous, so you leaned against the bike while the clones and Obi-Wan sent out snipers to stay hidden in the surrounding hills’ shrubbery. The long grass rippled in the slight breeze, and the sun beat down. A few wispy clouds drifted lazily across the sky as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the CIS finally showed up. Their speeders kicked up a storm of dust, which could be seen from miles away, even with the rolling hills. They slid to a halt on the other edge of a dusty clearing in perfect formation; Grievous at the center, flanked by a v shape of commando droids. 

The metallic General dismounted, pulled a tied-up Jedi from the back of his bike, and shoved him to a droid. Cody started to grab your arm to lead you forward, but you shoved him off of you and affixed a look of disdain to your face.

Back when you first met him, this attitude would have come naturally, but now, after learning empathy, you actually felt bad for the clones. They didn’t ask to be soldiers. They never had a choice. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You had to keep up the guise of a disgruntled young Sith, complete with eye-rolling and sneers.

Cody walked you halfway across the patch of dusty ground while a droid brought over the captured Jedi. After confirming that the Jedi was alright, Cody signaled to Obi-Wan, and the exchange was confirmed. Before you left, Cody passed you a box containing your lightsabers. As you were rushed to the Separatist speeders, you dared to cast a final glance back at the Republic forces. 

They were too busy welcoming their returned friend to even look at you. 

“Each time you find yourself scooped up by the Republic reflects poorly on me.” Grievous continued berating you as the commando droids loaded the bikes onto the shuttle. “Have you learned nothing? When will you stop allowing yourself to be snatched by these pieces of Republic scum?” 

“Those reflections are deserved!” You spat back. “You seem to forget that it is your job to teach me to fight. Instead you’re too busy chasing down Kenobi for some personal feud that he doesn’t even seem to know (much less care) about.” 

Those words hung in the air for a moment.

“Ha.” He laughed hollowly, “Perhaps you have learned something.” He then climbed into the shuttle. You knew he expected you to follow, but you could tell your emotions were reaching a boiling point. Instead of thinking about leaving Ahsoka without saying goodbye, or how the council betrayed you, you changed the sadness into blind rage. 

The wood of a nearby tree splintered as though an invisible hand crushed it. You looked at your hands, squeezed into fists so tight that your nails broke the skin, and realized that had been you. You had unintentionally channeled the Force. Slowly, you loosened your fists, and a few splinters fell away from the tree trunk.

From that day on, anger would be your fuel, and it would serve you well.

Tag!!! (You're it)

@thegirlinrainbowsworld

[kckt88]

A Time for Grief.

Summary:

In the aftermath of Blood & Cheese, Vaera and Aemond struggle to cope with the loss of their son Aemon.

Warning(s): Grief, Mourning, Child loss, Suicide attempt, Desperation.

Word Count: 1140.

Author Note: A companion piece to Harrenhal and the Rivers but can be read as a one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Ever since the funeral, Vaera had felt like she was stuck in an endless loop of grief, replaying Aemon’s death over and over again in her mind.

The way he stood in front of her and Rhaegar, so brave and fierce just like his father.

His struggles against the vile fiends who seized him, the way he thrashed, screamed, and kicked at his captors.

The way his innocent amethyst eyes widened in alarm as the blade slashed at his throat.

Vaera couldn’t stop seeing his little hand grasping out for hers as his blood poured onto the stone floor.

Even Rhaegar’s voice screaming for his father to come and save them will stay with her forever.

Every night she would pray that it was just a nightmare and when she woke, she would see her sweet boy again. But it was real. All of it. She didn’t know how much longer she stand the pain.

Then one day, in her grieving haze. She wordlessly rose from the chair in her chambers, left Rhaegar with the nanny and walked the length of the corridor, ignoring the looks of the concerned guards and maids as she walked past.

Where she was going, she didn’t know. What she was doing, she didn’t know. But she walked nonetheless, her bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor of the Red Keep.

Then she was there, the room where Aemon had died. It had been shut up and abandoned since, but Vaera pushed open the door and took a step inside.

The blood stains had been cleaned but Vaera could still see them. Running like rivers in every direction.

It was there, that pain in her chest. It wouldn’t go away. She just wanted to see her sweet boy again, to hear his voice.

Then like a smiling seductress, the tendrils of salvation reached out towards her.

The open window. Beckoning to her. For weeks she had been lost in a sea of darkness, but here was the light.

This was how she would see him again. Her sweet boy, her little dragon.

Vaera opened the window as wide as it would go and clambered up onto the windowsill.

Ignoring the panicked shouts of Ser Arryk who had found her chambers empty and chased after her.

“Get Prince Aemond. Quick”.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing. Vaera closed her eyes as the wind caressed her face.

Just as she was about to step forward, Vaera heard Cannibal roaring in the distance.

Almost as if he was begging her not to do it, she could feel his sadness and despair.

“I-I have to” whispered Vaera.

The squire raced through the Red Keep, towards the council chambers. Praying that he made in time.

Not even bothering to knock he burst through the wooden doors.

“P-Prince Aemond. Come quick”

“There is a council meeting in session you-“ raged Otto.

“-It’s Princess Vaera. S-She’s going to jump” shouted the young squire as he whirled around and raced out of the council chambers.

“WHAT” shrieked Aemond as he took off running after the squire, ignoring the frantic calls of his mother and brother.

Aemond’s heart was pounding in his chest as he chased after the squire.

Not to their chambers, but to the room where Aemon and Jaehaerys had been killed.

Ser Arryk was hovering near the door softly calling Vaera’s name, seemingly terrified to take another step inside the room.

When he came to a stop at the door, he understood Ser Arryk’s hesitation. 

Vaera was standing at the open window, her hands gripping the frame as she teetered on the edge.

“Issa jorrāelagon” whispered Aemond (My love).

“Nyke jaelagon naejot ūndegon zirȳla aril” replied Vaera (I want to see him again).

“Nyke gīmigon ao gaomagon, yn daor raqagon bisa” (I know you do, but not like this).

Vaera shook her head and closed her eyes.

“Kostilus issa jorrāelagon” begged Aemond (Please, my love).

“We’re never going to hear the sound of his laugh or see his face again” cried Vaera.

“W-We will. In our hearts”

“He made us so happy. Him and Rhaegar” said Vaera.

“We will talk about him, every single day and we’ll laugh, and we will cry. Vaera, no one will remember Aemon like we do”.

“H-How do I stop this pain? How do I make it go away?” wailed Vaera as she staggered on the edge of the windowsill.

“We deal with it together” said Aemond is voice wobbling.

“I-I just want him back. I want him in my arms” wailed Vaera.

“I know you do. But please Vaera, don’t do this. Think about Rhaegar, he still needs his mother” cried Aemond as he motioned for the Kings guard to stay where they were.

He didn’t want to spook Vaera, she was so close to the edge. One wrong move and she’d either slip or impulsively jump.

The Cannibal and Vhagar could be heard roaring ferociously in the distance.

“I don’t know how to live without Aemon”.

“Please, my love. Do not let me also suffer the agony of losing my wife” begged Aemond.

“A-Aemond I-I can’t-“

“You are the love of my life, my reason for existence. If you die. I die. I cannot live without you. Please come away from the ledge. Please don’t-“ said Aemond as he extended his hand and slowly walked forward.

“I don’t want to forget him” sobbed Vaera quietly as her body shook.

“We won’t. I promise” said Aemond seizing his chance as he quickly lurched forward, secured his arms around Vaera’s waist, and yanked her back from the window.

“How is she?” asked Aegon as he hovered near the door to Aemond and Vaera’s chambers.

“Sleeping, the maester gave her something” replied Aemond sadly as he stared at his wife’s sleeping form, her hands clutching one of Aemon’s old blankets.

“I-I’ve never seen her like that” whispered Aegon.

“I don’t know what to do brother. I-I-“ gasped Aemond, his breath catching in his throat.

Suddenly Aegon wrapped his arms around his brother and held him tight.

Aemond struggled against his brother for a moment before he broke down.

“I-I can’t s-stop-” exclaimed Aemond his face pressed against Aegon’s shoulder.

“-You don’t have to. Just let it out” urged Aegon.

Moments passed as the brothers embraced one another. Ignoring the members of the Kings guard who were hovering nearby.

“H-Helaena?” asked Aemond as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Mother is always with her and the children” said Aegon softly.

“What about you?”.

“I can’t think about it. If I do I end up drinking to forget. I need to have a clear head right now. This cannot go unpunished. They took our sons. They will pay” said Aegon firmly.

“Fire and Blood” replied Aemond.

“Fire and Blood” repeated Aegon nodding.

[thegingerwrites]

Obi-dience - An Obikin, Ella Enchanted AU set in the GFFA

Inspired by a typo I almost made yesterday and what I think is a pretty good pun

Obi-Wan Kenobi is the perfect Jedi. A skilled warrior, an expert negotiator, and a good friend, it has always been clear that Obi-Wan has a gift. People often remark that no matter what is asked of him, Obi-Wan Kenobi can deliver.

That is his gift: whatever anyone tells Obi-Wan to do, he does. The gift of obedience.

Before Obi-Wan ever came to the Temple, fate or the Force or some Stewjonian witchcraft, blessed Obi-Wan with the ability and the compulsion to do whatever he is told. The perfect child, the perfect padawan, the perfect Jedi. He is whatever anyone asks him to be.

From the moment Obi-Wan becomes aware of his dubious gift, he finds ways to work around it. When the other younglings come up with ridiculous dares or tell him to hand over his slice of Shuura cake from the refectory, he has no choice but to comply. Instead, he rebels in other ways. He shows them up in his classes, he stages pranks as a kind of revenge, and he never, ever lets anyone know about his secret gift. He learns that compliance can be a malicious thing and that there can be a vast difference between what someone says and what they mean.

After shoving a slice of cake in someone's face, attempting to climb the tallest tree in the greenhouses, and interrupting a lesson by Master Nu with an impassioned recital of the Jedi Code at the top of his lungs before refusing to say another word, Obi-Wan is sent to Master Yoda, fearing for his future with the Jedi Order. He assumes that Master Yoda is going to send him away, to the Agricorps or some kind of orphanage for wayward almost-Jedi. Clearly, he is more trouble than he is worth.

But Master Yoda is more perceptive than that. He senses that the Force moves strangely around Obi-Wan and gets Obi-Wan to describe what it feels like when someone tells him to do something. What it is like to be helpless sometimes against the need to do what he is told.

Yoda doesn't tell Obi-Wan to leave the Order. One way or the other, that decision will be made for him, when a Master comes forward to take him on as a padawan or doesn't.

What he does say still manages to change Obi-Wan's life forever.

"A great and terrible gift this is, young one. Know that already, you do. Difficult, your life will be, because of it and harder, you should not make it.

'A secret, your obedience must be. Tell no one of your gift, lest they use it against you."

Obi-Wan blinks, eyes wide. His mouth hangs open for only a moment before the words come out, "Yes, Master."

From then on, Obi-Wan tries his best to keep his head down. He wants to become a padawan, dreams of one day being a Jedi Knight, and so he tries his best in his classes, learns to turn the other cheek when others attempt to rile him. He becomes kind and thoughtful, and surrounds himself with a few good and trusted friends, who, while playful and rambunctious, would never try to order him around.

His efforts pay off when Qui-Gon decides to take him as his padawan.

It takes Qui-Gon a long time to learn what makes Obi-Wan different from other padawans. This is mainly because Obi-Wan Kenobi is already so different from himself and so different from the boy Qui-Gon heard tales about from the crechemasters when Obi-Wan was in their care. He is quiet, though curious, and rule-following to a fault. Where is the rebellious boy that was nearly kicked out of the Temple for attempting to leap into the Serenity Pond at the center of the Room of a Thousand Fountains with all of his clothes still on?

This boy does what he is told and he never talks back, even when Qui-Gon desperately wants him to. After a few years, Qui-Gon resigns himself to the idea that the Council must see him as too much of a maverick even now and that when Yoda recommended Obi-Wan to him as a padawan, citing their similarities, it was an attempt to reign him in. The equivalent of pairing the talkative kid in class with the quiet one, in the hopes that some of the latter's goodness might rub off on the former.

That is, until Melida/Daan. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are sent to rescue Master Tahl and become entangled in the conflict there. The role of the Jedi is to negotiate peace and until the Melida and the Daan are ready to do so, there is no place for the Jedi among them. Qui-Gon tells Obi-Wan it is time to leave and for once, Qui-Gon sees a fight on his young padawan's face.

His feet move toward the waiting ship's ramp in halting, laborious steps while his hands fist at his sides and his face tightens into a grimace. Obi-Wan reaches out for the nearest thing available to him, a crate of supplies in the hangar bay, and grabs on tight, even as the rest of his body tries to pull him towards the ship.

"No, Master. I can't!" Obi-Wan grunts as he loses his grip on the crate and flails for something else. "I can help them, I know I can. Please let me stay."

Qui-Gon watches in horror as Obi-Wan's body eventually wins out and he stands next to him on the ramp, clutching one of the pistons for balance. Whatever power held sway over Obi-Wan for those few fraught moments is gone as quickly as it arrived, leaving him red-faced and breathless in its absence.

He leaves Obi-Wan on Melida/Daan and puzzles over that scene at the ship's ramp long after the fight is over and Obi-Wan returns to the Order. He never quite manages to discover the secret of Obi-Wan's gift, but he is certain to never give him another order he cannot refuse ever again.

Even at the end of his life, when he has been cut down by Darth Maul and Obi-Wan has him cradled in his arms, Qui-Gon is sure to phrase his last wishes just so.

"He is the Chosen One, Obi-Wan. Will you train him?"

"I will, Master."

Training Anakin doesn't feel like a choice, at least not at first. Obi-Wan fights the Council for the right to train him, pushes past his own misgivings and sets aside his grief, not because he really believes in the prophecy in the way Qui-Gon did but because it was the last thing his Master ever asked of him.

At night, Obi-Wan wishes that Qui-Gon had ordered him to train Anakin, wishes that he knew how to do this one thing right. He silently begs the Force: if his obedience was ever good for anything, let it help him in this.

And yet, training Anakin is a choice, one he makes every single day. Harder at the start and then easier once he actually gets to know the boy. Anakin is stubborn and willful, scarred by his time as a slave in ways Obi-Wan will never fully understand. He doesn't make demands of Obi-Wan. He doesn't make demands of anyone. He is a kindhearted and curious boy who deeply misses his mother and has latched onto Obi-Wan like the last life-preserver on a sinking ship. It takes time for him to grow comfortable at the Temple, for him to trust that all that he loves will not be taken away from him a second time, and for him to grow into a teenager more secure in his place in the world.

The first time Anakin enacts Obi-Wan's gift against him, he is fifteen and they have been arguing. He has been sneaking out at night, fighting with one of the other padawan's, and is falling behind in his galactic history coursework. The bright and friendly young boy Obi-Wan met years ago has become sullen and moody, no more so than many other teenagers but something of an anomaly within the Temple.

Anakin stalks off to his room, slamming the automatic door behind him as best he can, and shouts at Obi-Wan through it to leave him alone.

It takes Obi-Wan a full day to realize what Anakin has done. He makes himself scarce in their rooms before Anakin wakes the next morning. He avoids meeting him in the refectory and after lessons. It is only when he cannot force himself to return to their apartments at the end of the day that he seeks out Master Yoda and begs him to contradict Anakin's order. He can't let Anakin think that Obi-Wan is so upset with him as to actually leave.

Master Yoda negates the command but before he lets Obi-Wan return to his quarters, he cautions him against allowing himself to become too attached to the boy.

This is where I think there is a lot of room to play around with this idea and probably where an actual story would take place with the rest as background.

While the premise of the fic isn’t doesn’t necessarily have to lead to obikin, that’s simply the lens through which I view the world so it does.

One night, when Anakin is still a padawan, he returns back to their quarters late after a night out where Obi-Wan is still awake and waiting for him. He stumbles into the room, brushing aside Obi-Wan’s concern, before landing on their couch instead of in his bedroom. He is drunk, clearly, but not so far gone as to be unwell. His limbs are loose and his smile is easy and he relents eagerly when Obi-Wan kneels down to pull of his boots in order to keep them off of the furniture. His eyes go wide and his smile falls as he sees Obi-Wan down there, his mouth forming a confused little ‘oh’.

Before Obi-Wan can ask what is wrong, Anakin says, “kiss me,” and Obi-Wan does. He presses up from his knees, leans over Anakin and kisses him.

It is a soft, quiet kiss on the lips. Neither of them moving beyond simple pressure. To Obi-Wan’s later shock and horror, the kiss feels good, feels right. Perhaps his mind reaches out to Anakin’s through the Force and borrows some of his alcohol-induced ease because his mind goes blank for the few brief seconds that their lips are connected, wholly at peace.

And then reality sets in and Obi-Wan pulls back sharply.

He steps back, nearly tripping over the low table in their sitting area, his hand barely grazes the skin of his lips.

“Never ask that of me again,” he tells Anakin.

And Anakin, not so far gone as to mishear the grief and heartbreak in his Master’s voice, never does.

As an adult, Obi-Wan's gift comes into play less. Few people really go around giving people orders. Obi-Wan becomes very good at stopping them before they start, redirecting people to other topics, and avoiding those who are prone to giving them.

Still, he doesn't expect Dooku to tell him to join him on Geonosis. (I think there's a really cool option where Obi-Wan goes with him or at least spends the early part of the war hearing him out) Anakin steps in almost immediately without realizing it, shouting 'no' which counteract the command.

The war itself doesn't pose as much of a problem as Obi-Wan and Yoda worry at the outset. Obi-Wan is the one giving the orders rather than receiving them and thankfully the droids' feeble commands to surrender have no effect on him.

His gift does still manage to get him into trouble on occasion. His banter with Ventress is especially charged as he parries her blades and her words. Anakin takes to leadership well, so well that on occasion he slips and manages to give Obi-Wan orders as well as his men. It doesn’t happen often, while Anakin has grown by leaps and bounds into a commander, a brother in arms, he still knows his place. Obi-Wan will always be his former master, a member of the council, and his superior. Still, when Anakin concocts a plan at a moment’s notice and tells Obi-Wan, “cover me,” before an oncoming barrage of battle droids or shouts “stay here” before running off into danger, Obi-Wan is forced to obey. It only leads to him getting shot at a handful of times.

No one but Master Yoda is aware of Obi-Wan’s secret. While Obi-Wan’s behavior is strange at times, defying explanation, no one questions it too much. He has always been this way. It would be stranger if these near misses and fits of willfulness didn’t happen to him even in the midst of a war.

When the Council asks him to go undercover as Rako Hardeen—asks not commands—Obi-Wan has reservations. Perhaps not the kind of reservations Anakin would like him to have, about the cruelty of faking his death and the convoluted nature of the plan, but about his own ability to carry out this mission and pretend to be Hardeen.

“Surely, my condition puts the entire operation in jeopardy,” he tells Master Yoda in private. “One ill-timed command and all is lost.”

“A strong and powerful Jedi you have become, young Obi-Wan, despite the difficulties your gift affords you. Quick and discerning, it has made you. Capable, you are. Trust that you can complete this mission, I do.”

Which is all Obi-Wan needs to hear before he accepts.

The reason I can’t write a fic for this yet (aside from all of the other fics I’m currently wrestling with) is because I’m not sure how I want it to end. On the one hand, I think following canon pretty closely through RotS could be very cool and angsty, leading to Obi-Wan and Anakin’s confrontation on Mustafar. Obi-Wan has to fight against both his feelings for Anakin and his gift when Anakin tells him to join him. By winning their duel, Obi-Wan breaks free from his curse at a terrible cost.

On the other hand, I also really like the idea of Palpatine finding out about Obi-Wan’s gift somehow and using it to manipulate him. He sends Obi-Wan to the Jedi Temple to commit Operation Knightfall in Anakin’s stead and actually manages to cut down a few Temple guards before crossing paths with Anakin. Palpatine ordered Obi-Wan to go to the Temple and slaughter any Jedi he met and though he does cross blades with Anakin in the halls of the Jedi Temple, he cannot bring himself to kill Anakin. He fights back against his curse and wins, leaving him and the rest of the galaxy free.

[captainsophiestark]

The Level-Headed One

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Star Wars

Day 8 Prompt: "Give that to me, before anything happens."

Summary: Obi-Wan and his partner (in life and on this mission) break into a smuggler's den in search of information the Republic needs, when things go a little sideways.

Word Count: 1,262

Category: Fluff

Requested by @ghostofskywalker! Hope you like it Tori!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Missions like these are my favorite," I muttered, smiling up at my best friend and partner, Obi-Wan, as we ducked down a darkened bar hallway, his arm wrapped tightly around me and my arms around his neck. Obi-Wan hummed, leaning down and towards me until we disappeared from the sight of the rest of the bar, when he pulled back.

"They are more fun than rushing into battle on a dusty planet."

I smiled, leaning up to give him a brief peck on the cheek before we both returned our focus to the task at hand. We'd come here looking for information about smuggling routes the Separatists had been using to run supplies past our blockades, but with a cover as two people on a date in a seedy bar. Away from the Jedi Council, on missions in dives like this, were some of the only times Obi and I got to spend as a couple.

Unfortunately, they also often included people trying to kill us at some point or another. We'd just have to keep surviving long enough to get to the other side of the war and retire happily.

"Do you want to take care of the door, or should I?" asked Obi-Wan, both of us scanning our surroundings as we reached the locked door of the club owner's office. If we were right, all the information we could hope for and more would be in there.

I shrugged. "I'm probably going to kick it down, so if you have another way..."

"Hold on."

He closed his eyes, raising his hand ever so slightly as he concentrated and worked through the force. I turned to watch our backs, until I heard the telltale 'click' of a lock unlocking itself.

"You did that by moving the lock from the inside with the force?" I asked, turning to my boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged.

"I've needed to develop that skill more than a few times in the course of the war."

"Still. Impressive."

With one last glance around the hallway, the two of us ducked quickly into the office, carefully shutting the door behind us. I relocked it before turning to take in the room with Obi.

We'd definitely found the right place. The office was a disaster zone, papers, boxes, and filing cabinets scattered everywhere. This was going to be a long, long night.

"I'll take the left half if you take the right half," Obi-Wan deadpanned. I sighed.

"We didn't do nearly enough dancing and drinking in the bar before hand to deal with all this."

Since neither of us knew when an enemy might next appear, we tried to work quickly while still doing a thorough job. I kept one eye on the time, all too aware that every minute that ticked by was another increasing the risk of our death.

I'd been getting jittery as we neared the half hour mark, but Obi-Wan and I had almost made it through the entire room. We'd started at the edges and gradually worked towards the middle and each other, and finally, we'd met at the desk.

I huffed a sigh and popped the top off yet another box and started digging through, until a large, familiar object made me pause.

"Oh boy," I muttered, reaching into the box and pulling out the flashbang grenade. I held it up to show Obi-Wan, turning it over in my hand. "Look at this. Who leaves something like this in a box on their desk?"

"Seedy smugglers who might need to throw one at someone coming in the door?" he suggested.

"Yeah, I guess so." I tossed the grenade lightly in my hand, testing its weight and getting a feel for it. "Interesting."

"Give me that, before anything happens," Obi-Wan said, holding out his hand with a sigh. I rolled my eyes, but dropped it in his hand anyway.

"I'm not going to blow us up, Obi-Wan. I might be best friends with Anakin, but I'm not completely stupid."

He snorted, which made a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. I nudged him with my shoulder as we both continued our search, the feeling of him in the force putting me at ease and bringing a smile to my face even in the middle of a mission like this. A few minutes later, I smiled for a different reason.

"I think I found what we're looking for."

Obi-Wan leaned over my shoulder as I fanned out a stack of documents, all detailing several shipping routes and smuggling runs designed to get around Republic blockades.

"Excellent work," he said, eyes still scanning the information. "Let's take that with us and get out of here, shall we?"

"Neither of you is going to be going anywhere, ever again."

Obi-Wan and I's heads snapped up to find the club owner standing in the doorway, flanked by two burly guards cracking their knuckles. I sighed.

"Two more minutes, and we would've been gone," I muttered.

"Nobody gets away with stealing from me, in my own club, with their lives."

Rather than returning fire with our new enemy, Obi-Wan leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"Can you gather those papers quickly if we were to run?" I nodded. "Good. Then close your eyes and cover your ears."

I turned to give him a questioning look, only to see him pick up the flashbang grenade I'd found and pull the pin, hurling it at the club owner without a second thought. I ducked and covered just in time as it went off before quickly springing into action, grabbing the papers off the desk and following Obi-Wan as we pushed past the stunned club owner and his guards.

We rushed back into the noise and confusion of the club, angry screams following from behind us. Obi-Wan reached back and took my hand as we wove through the crowd, finally making our way to an exit near the back and ducking out the door.

"You got all the papers?" he asked as we jumped into our speeder and he quickly guided it into the sky. I nodded.

"Yes, I did. And I'll absolutely never understand how you got your reputation as the level-headed one."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "It's easy. I got the reputation because I'm constantly surrounded by you and Anakin. And when he dives out a thousand-story window without a plan to catch himself and you run into an ambush with nothing but the force to get you out of it, a little flashbang grenade in a pinch becomes the most rational thing in the world."

I snorted, but he wasn't wrong. I caught him grinning out of the corner of my eye, so I turned to him more fully with a grin of my own.

"So... mission success, but I still think we got run out of that place a little early. Do you want to go somewhere for a little victory celebration before we go back to the Temple?"

"...What did you have in mind?"

"Padmé told me about a jazz club not too far from here."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "You certainly know me well." He glanced at the still-dark sky, then sighed. "I suppose we do have some time. Just tell me where to go."

We shared a smile, blending in amongst the lights of the city as two other people, no Jedi Order or war following us like it did everywhere else. And for tonight, we'd enjoy that escape for a little while, to help remind us exactly what we were out there fighting for.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hey, dear! could i get an extremely fluffy picture/oneshot Daemon x pregnant!poc reader where ever since they found out about reader's pregnancy he has been super protective, loving and an excellent husband with her and the unborn baby so one afternoon they're spending quality time together (maybe she's reading to him) while he caresses her belly and the baby kicks for the first time, please?

Here you go.

The soon-to-be father

Pairing: Daemon x Fem. Reader (From the Summer Isles)

Themes : Soft | Fluff

Warnings : None

Word Count : 1.3k words

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all   here

It was the height of autumn.

The leaves turned red, dusk crept in faster, and there was a growing nip in the air.

The dragons had taken to gorging on anything and everything the dragon keepers offered them, as if preparing for the lean winter years. It would not be long, they said, before the dragons retreated under the pits to sleep away the winter.

Even here, in the Red Keep, life grew slower, with the rooms and corridors growing darker. Torches were lit everywhere, and fires were blazing to provide the warmth and light that the sun couldn't. Despite everyone’s efforts, the cold still crept in through tiny cracks and crevices, as if the season was determined to have the last word.

Today, however, was tolerably pleasant, although you debated if "tolerably" was the right word. As a lady of the Summer Isles, you were accustomed to warmer weather and sunnier skies. Still, this was the place your husband called home, and you were determined to love it.

No, you tell yourself. This isn’t just your husband’s home. This is the place your unborn child will call home soon enough.

Your hand fluttered to your growing belly. Two more months, the Grand Maester said. Two more months, and everyone will know if it is a son or a daughter.

Your husband didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl. He was just eager to be a father. A father who was driving everyone to distraction with his plans for the nursery, the midwives, even going so far as to insist on being present for the birth. Not that you minded. You were just happy to indulge his whims, often shaking your head and grinning whenever he went overboard, something he did frequently and without shame.

A pelt being draped over your shoulders brought you out of your daydreaming.  "You’re shivering." Daemon had walked in, silent as always. "Come sit by the fire, you’ll be warmer."

You studied him, discreetly, as he went over to the hearth to add more logs to the fire. Daemon was much calmer now, a far cry from the bundle of brash energy he was when the two of you wed. He also looked a little surly this afternoon. "What happened at the council meeting?" you asked, as you made yourself comfortable on a large sofa. Daemon finished his task and took his usual place next to you, picking up a book as he did so. He threw an arm around you and sighed.

"The pissant everyone is determined to make king has been visiting fighting pits every night for weeks now." Daemon rubbed his eyes, wondering how his brother managed to sire one such as his oldest nephew. Perhaps it was a punishment from the Gods for what had been done to the late queen Aemma, he reasoned, though he'd never say it aloud.

"Fighting pits?" You inquired, your gaze drawn to the book in his hands. It was dubbed, The Songs of the Seven Kingdoms. "Like your boxing?"

Daemon sighed and shook his head, his mood darkening. "I wish it was the case. We all do. No, my sweet, this is nothing like that, where there are judges and rules and where the opponents are grown men.

"But I’d rather not talk of that." He continued after a moment’s pause. "I just want you to promise me that you’ll come to me if Aegon comes anywhere near you."

You'd heard the rumors about the prince; everyone had. But hearing something that was passed off as mere gossip confirmed as true was a frightening prospect. "It cannot be that bad…." You say in disbelief. "I mean…. Aegon is a prince… He’s Viserys’ son, surely he…"

"Aegon is nothing like his father, so promise me," insisted Daemon. "Promise me you’ll come to me. Aegon is nothing like the sweet princeling he pretends to be. He’s far more dangerous than you think."

You swallowed as the gravity of the situation started to sink in. Daemon had moved with and fought alongside some of the most dangerous men in the kingdom. And if he thought Aegon was that bad, then—

"I will come to you if Aegon approaches me," you promised.

"Good," Daemon was pleased. "And how have you been? How is our child?"

"A little uncomfortable now that the baby is getting bigger, but I’m good. And the baby is healthy," you said indulgently, rubbing your belly. "And growing strong. The Grand Maester is very happy with everything. He said two more months before the baby is due to make their grand appearance."

Daemon placed a hand over yours, his joy matching yours. "That’s good. I told Viserys I’m not going anywhere till after out child arrives. He agreed."

"And I’ve had word from my mother," you picked up a letter on the side table and hand it to him. "She’ll be here before the birth. She also said four of my father’s finest warriors will be coming with her, and that they’ll be staying here as my sworn protectors. It’s rather odd, since I never asked for such a thing."

You tilted your head to one side when Daemon went red in the cheeks. "Husband," you said in amusement. "What did you do?"

Daemon groaned and mumbled something under his breath.

"Husband," you snickered. "What. Did. You. Do."

In one quick breath, Daemon  finally mumbled: "Imayhavebadgeredyourfatherintosendindwarriorsforyou."

"I’m sorry, but what?"

Daemon groaned again, speaking more clearly this time. "I- may have - badgered your father into sending warriors for you."

You just chuckled and buried your face in your hands. "Oh Daemon. It’s not necessary, my love, really."

"Not necessary?" Daemon stammered in shock. "My dear wife, did you not just listen to a word I said about Aegon? And have you not heard of that brother of his?"

And there he goes, being the protective husband. You couldn't fault the man because your own lord father was exactly like him. It honestly made you love him even more. "I heard you. And yes, I have heard the stories about Prince Aemond. Alright. Father’s warriors can stay."

"Thank you," said a relieved Daemon. "Now, enough of dark topics. How about something light?"

"Like this book?" You hold up the Songs of the Seven Kingdoms. "Perhaps I could read it?"

Daemon picked out a story, about the North and the children of the forest. He was content to let you read, his hand still over your belly.

The afternoon drifted on, with nothing but you reading stories out loud and Daemon rubbing your stomach whenever you grew uncomfortable. He became aware of something beneath his palm. Muscles rippled as something moved. "What’s that?"

There it was again, and this time you too felt it. "That, my love, is our baby." You put the book down, placed your hand over his. Sure enough, there was another ripple. "Kicking at my insides again."

Daemon grinned. "A child of true Targaryen and Summer Isle stock then,"  he said it so gleefully, you forgot your discomfort in an instance. "I wonder if they would be the one to bond with Grey Ghost."

You gave him a double-take. A wild dragon? Your child wasn't going anywhere near a wild dragon. "Grey Ghost? No."

Daemon’s eyes glinted mischievously. "Sheepstealer then?"

"Not on your life!"

He tsked and thought about it again. "I know! The Cannibal!"

"No!" You grinned. Daemon was only teasing you, after all. "My love, can we please stick to the practice of placing a dragon’s egg in the babe’s cradle?"

"Spoil-sport," he said cheerfully. "Alright, my love. An egg in the cradle it is."

"Thank you." You allowed Daemon to take the book. He then spent the rest of the afternoon reading to you and the child in your womb.

[wiypt-writes]

Rawhide

Epilogue: Until The Cows Come Home

Summary: Five years post the final battle, Life at Avengers Ranch is pretty sweet

Warnings: Language, smut (NSFW) 18+

Pairing: Cowboy Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader. Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any of the characters contained within this series bar the Reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. I do not give permission for this to be translated and/or reposted on any other platforms. Reblogs are fine: Sharing is caring.

By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So here it is! The epilogue. I hope you enjoy. As of now, I have no plans really to continue but…perhaps if the muse strikes we might see a few one shots to follow up.

Rawhide Masterlist // Main Master-list

 Part 14

W/C: 5.4k

“My grandad told me about a cowboy he knew, once. We’re going way back to the forties here. He rode into town and stopped at a saloon for a drink. Unfortunately, the locals always had a habit of picking on strangers, which he was. When he finished his drink, he found his horse had been stolen. He went back into the bar, pulled his gun, and fired a shot right into the air.”  Clint made a gun motion with his fingers and mimed the action.

“Way to make friends an influence people.” Pete rolled his eyes.

“Well, it was his horse, ya know, valuable commodities in those days. They still are.” Clint shrugged, “So, he goes back into the bar, kicking off, demanding to know which snake had taken his horse. No one answered, so he says that he’s gonna have one more beer, and if his horse ain’t back outside by the time he finished his drink, that he’s gonna ‘do what I dun in Texas, and I don’t like to have to do what I dun in Texas…’” Clint mimicked a southern accent and cleared his throat. “Some of the locals start shifting a little, ya know, nervous like. Anyway, true to his word, he has another beer, heads outside and his horse has been returned.”

“So, that’s it?” Bucky frowned, “that’s the point of this story?”

“Pretty much.” Clint shrugs, “he saddled up, and started to ride out of town. He hasn’t got more than a few yards though, when the bartender comes out and asks ‘say, partner, before you go…what happened in Texas?’ Dude tips his Stetson as he looks back and says, ‘I had to walk home’.”

There was a moment of silence, before the group groaned collectively, as Clint laughed. Bucky threw the crust of his sandwich at Clint’s head.

“That is the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard.”

Steve snorted, listening to the guys banter as he leaned back against the tree trunk, his hat pulled down over his face. It had been a busy few days, moving the herd back down to the summer pastures and getting ready to bale the hay and silage that would see them through the winter. But he wasn’t complaining. In fact, he hadn’t complained about much over the past 5 years or so.

 Well, bar Bucky being a persistent pain in his ass, but what else was new?

In the months that followed the battle, Fury had been appointed interim president of the WSC and had been permanently installed following a term of elections, for two terms running now. As such, the World Security Council had made good on its promise. Each state had their own elected representatives, and the divide which had separated red and blue states had been torn down.

 Of course, some states still held conservative views, but even in those areas things had gotten much better for Omegas. Because their basic human rights had been secured through the Omega Rights Act at a federal level, something they failed to do the first time round due to the WSC preferring the appeasement method. Now, violation of those rights was punishable by law, no matter where you were, although how much it was enforced was anyone’s guess and varied, again state to state.

It wasn’t perfect, but then again nothing was. And it had been met in some instances with violent opposition, but that had been quashed pretty quickly. Some had been in favour of a more gradual overhaul, suggesting that each state should be allowed to install their own laws around Alphas, Betas and Omegas, as a sort of half-way house with a view to eventually changing the overall attitudes of people.

But, as Tony said in his speech when he was elected as the Senator for Montana, “sometimes you gotta run before you can walk.”

Essentially, it was all that they could have hoped for, and whilst it wasn’t perfect, it was a damned site better than it had been. Steve's shield and suit, and indeed the rest of the Avengers’ weapons and kit remained untouched, gathering dust in the armoury. 

Things had even taken a turn for the better at the ranch. It was bringing in good money, both from the cattle and the sudden tourism boost, people flocking to see the battle grounds where the latest Civil War had taken place. This, in turn, had seen an expansion to the ‘Dude Ranch’. Although Steve hadn’t been particularly on board with that idea at first, he’d quickly been talked around.

As such, life for all the Avengers Ranch and everyone else in Stark Wood was good. In fact, life all round was good, but from a selfish point of view, the former was all Steve really gave a damned about now.

His mind strayed to you, and a soft smile spread across his face. Married now, you bore his name and his rings. More symbolic than anything, given the fact you were bonded beyond the normal ties of a bond anyway. But he’d wanted to show you exactly what you meant to him. Following his casual proposal, the night you’d returned home to the ranch, he’d done it properly a few weeks later. The pair of you had taken a ride up to the top of the hills and he’d gotten down on one knee at sunset, offering you his Mom’s ring. Which you’d tearfully accepted.

You’d married in the same place, the following summer, Thor overseeing the ceremony in his ordained state as Sheriff, and then you and your friends had partied long into the night in the huge tent on the grounds of the ranch.

Steve had kept good on his word too. Once he felt it was safe, the pair of you had gone to Texas where you’d visited your mama’s grave and told her you were okay, laying a bunch of her favourite wildflowers by her headstone. And then, you’d located Colin’s. Tactfully, Steve kept his distance there and allowed you to say a proper goodbye to your previous alpha. You’d told Colin (or at least you’d spoken to his modest headstone) all about your job at the ranch, how you worked shifts at the Vet clinic with Banner. You’d chuckled when you’d explained how you were still the one doing the books because your Alpha was just as bad at it as he had been…and you’d finished by thanking him for his sacrifice which meant you were alive today, and living the best possible life you could. Whether Steve believed in the afterlife or not, it had clearly made you feel better having said a proper goodbye, and who was he to deny you that?

He’d deny you nothing. He’d give you the moon and the stars in the sky to make you happy.

A boot kicking at the sole of his foot jerked Steve from his daydream, and he tipped his hat to look upwards.

“Ready to kick on?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, yeah I am.” He smiled. With a groan, he pushed himself up and dusted down the seat of his well-worn wranglers before he mounted Star.

Together, the five men herded the longhorns down towards the pastures which surrounded the ranch, where the work would start over the next few weeks to tag the calves and conduct the health checks needed on the females. When the last one was in the correct pasture, Clint closed the gate with a click.

As they turned the final corner towards home, Steve couldn’t help the smile as he saw you in the riding arena. You leading Quin around, your Stetson sat on your head, a grin on your face as you walked. And upon Quin’s back sat a smaller figure, whose head was covered by a safety helmet.

Your daughter, Serenity Clara Rogers, known as Seren. It was a name chosen for its various meanings. In its full form her first name meant peaceful, which was what your lives had been since the battle and what you both hoped it would be for the rest of your lives. In its shortened, it translated as star, a small tribute to Steve’s emblem.

Her middle name was a payback to your Southern roots, and it meant bright and clear. And when it was all put together, it was exactly what she was to you both, a shining, bright star of peace and love and hope.

Getting Star up into a trot, and then a loping canter, he was pulling into the main grounds of the ranch a few minutes later.

“Daddy! Looks! I wides Quin!”

Steve grinned as he hopped off his horse and strode towards the paddock fence, looping the reins around the top rail. “I can see that!”

“Cans I has my own?”

Steve laughed, “you think you’re old enough?”

“I’m free!” A tiny handheld up three fingers as Steve faulted over the post and rails and strode towards you both.

“Hi, Cowboy.” You beamed as he kissed you softly.

“Hi, Doll.” His lips brushed yours before he turned to look at his daughter. She was much like you, same eyes, same hair, same attitude, and excitement to life. But, very much with the Rogers attitude and, funnily enough, his cheekbones and nose. 

“Good day?” 

“Yup, all cows present and correct. Did that new family check in?”

“Yeah, all good.” You nodded. “Oh, Banner called. He asked if I could cover the on call shift tonight at the surgery. Apparently Natasha has come down with that bug that’s going round, and he doesn’t want to leave her to take care of the baby Danny alone. Think they’re all still adjusting, ya know, after the adoption…”

“I think that’s okay, don’t you, Wren?” he playfully poked Seren’s tummy, speaking his nickname for her and she giggled.

“Cans we watch Toy Story? Wivs popcorns?”

“Toy Story? Again?” Steve groaned and Seren narrowed her eyes.

“I wikes it. Is my fave-rite.”

“Really, I’d never have guessed.”

Her Daddy’s sarcasm went right over Seren’s head, and you chuckled. “We got everyone coming for dinner tonight, baby, so you might not get chance.”

“After dinner?”

“We’ll see.” You smiled, “you ready to get down? I think Quin could do with a drink before we pop him out.”

“Otay…”Seren sighed, dramatically. She held her arms out and Steve reached up to pluck her out of the saddle. Her little arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed her cheek. “Daddy, your whiskers are scratchy!”

“Are they?” Steve frowned, before he rubbed his cheek against hers, causing her to squeal. Her hands pushed at his face as she giggled. With a laugh, Steve pulled back and she cupped his face, her fingers threading into his beard as she smushed his cheeks together.

“I wobes you, daddy bear.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than all the stars.”

Your heart swelled, the way it always did when you watched Steve with your daughter. She was the apple of his eye and he doted on her in all the right ways. He indulged her, let her be her own person, but wasn’t afraid to dish out the discipline when needed.

In contrast to Bucky, who pretty much let her get away with anything and everything.

Steve carried her out of the paddock, and you followed, leading Quin.

 “Unca Buck!” Seren squealed as she spotted her favourite uncle and she wriggled. Steve let her down and she took off towards him.

“Hey, Squirt!” Bucky grinned as he picked her up. “You had a good day?”

“Yips. Me and Mama took ‘Mando for a walk, dens we made lunch, and I rides!”

“yeah, I saw you on Quin. Bout time daddy got you a pony of your own, huh?”

“Dass what I saids!” Seren held her hands out to her side and Bucky laughed, ignoring the death stare Steve was shooting him.

“She might have a point, Alpha.” You smirked as you passed him by and tried not to chuckle as his head whipped towards you.

“huh?” he followed you into the barn. “Really? You think she’s old enough?”

“It’s not like she’ll be going on cattle drives.” You smiled as you undid the girth to Quin’s saddle. “But what harm can it do? A little pony or something she can love and cuddle. You’ve seen what she’s like with every animal she comes across.”

“Yeah, which is how we’ve ended up with a damned cat that lives in the house now and not the barn, much to Commando’s disgust.”

“Hey, Barney would have died otherwise…”

“And the guinea pigs? Were they on deaths door too when Bucky and Sam bought them for her?”

“Sparkle and Cookie live outside, well in Summer anyway…”

“The tank of goldfish?”

“She won one at a fair. Thor was right, it was mean to keep him in a bowl on his own. He needed friends.”

Steve scoffed and you snorted.

“Stop being a grouch.” You teased, “make the most of her being like this. Because give it ten, twelve years she’ll be out dating and chasing boys instead.”

“Over my dead body.” Steve glowered.

“You can’t fight her growing up.”

“No, but I can fight any punk that comes within a three mile radius of her.”

That made you laugh, as you placed Quin’s saddle on the rack. “Oh, Steve.” You turned towards him, stepping into his arms. He groaned, his face pressing into his neck.

“Stop it…”he whined. “I don’t want her to grow up, ever. Where’s our baby gone?”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You kissed his cheek. 

“What time are you on call from?”

“Seven-ish.” you stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, which was a little damp with sweat. Not that you cared. “I might not be needed but, you never know.”

“Okay, so if we grill for dinner at sixish, you should be okay?”

“Counting on it.” you smiled, “sides and fixings are all ready.”

“You’re too good to me, to us.” He smiled, his lips pressing back to yours.

You hummed into the kiss, allowing him to pull you closer. The smell and feel of your Alpha, your soul mate, your husband washed over you as his strong arms wrapped around your back. You allowed yourself to get lost, giving into that Omega part of you that you now loved as much as Steve did. 

“Mama and Daddy is smoochin’!” A loud giggle came from behind you and Steve gave a small groan as he pulled away.

“Ewww!” Bucky wrinkled his nose, “do they smooch a lot?”

“Aaaallls da times!” Seren said, dramatically. “Unca Tony says mama wobes daddy’s animal maganatism…”

“I’m gonna kill Stark.” Steve muttered as you, and the rest of the gang laughed.

**********

As was customary post the cattle drives, you hosted the guys, plus their partners for dinner. Thor and Tony also joined you, along with his daughter, Morgan and Pepper who was sporting a pretty large bump as Baby Stark number 2 was very much about to make an appearance.

Morgan and Seren, separated in age by less than a year spent the spring evening playing in the garden, and by the time everyone was leaving they were both exhausted. Steve took this as a win as he didn’t have to sit there and watch Buzz and Woody for what felt like the hundredth time that week.

After bidding everyone goodbye, after clearing down the dishes and table, you headed off to take a call which had come through from the surgery.

Steve scooped his daughter up, “bedtime, baby.”

“I nots tired…” Seren protested, as she yawned and blinked hard.

“Sure…” Steve chuckled, “well let’s get you bathed and then we can discuss this, huh?”

Once bathed, dried and in her little set of cowgirl themed pajamas, Seren had given up the fight and was, indeed, half asleep. Steve tucked her into her little bed, chuckling as Commando took up his usual place on top of the comforter, by her side. Her little hand curled into his fur as she yawned.

“Story?”

“You bet.” Steve smiled, “which one tonight?”

“Spinderella.” She grinned. “I wikes dat one.”

“Spinderella it is…” Steve crossed the room to her bookshelf and then looked as you wandered into the room.

“I gotta go in.” You sighed, “one of Mr. Craft’s horses has injured itself, pretty badly in its stall. He said it can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“That’s okay, we got things here, huh Wren?”

“Yups.” Seren yawned again.

“I give her two pages, tops.” Steve chuckled, waving the book at you.

“I bet its four.” You smiled, leaning over to kiss her head. “Night baby, momma loves you so much.”

“Wobes you too, momma.” she hugged you before you stood up, ruffling commando’s fur. You then turned to Steve and kissed him quickly.

“I dunno how long I’ll be.”

“It’s okay’ Mega.” he smiled. “Drive safe, okay?”

You winked before you pulled away, his hand squeezing yours and you turned and left.

****

Seren actually fell asleep after three pages. When Steve heard her breathing even out, he glanced down and saw her eyes closed as she snuggled into him.

With a soft chuckle, he gently moved, his hand curling the back of her head. He lay her down, made sure she had her little bunny teddy with her and tucked her in.

“Night, my little star. Sweet dreams.” He whispered as he kissed her head.

Commando followed him as Steve headed down the hall after quietly shutting Seren's door. He padded his way down the staircase and found refuge at the wet bar for a drink before he settled up on the couch. His faithful dog hopped up next to him, resting his rather large head on Steve's lap. Flicking through channels, he found the mundane drone of the news filled his ears.

He watched the report and the panel as they chatted over a high profile court case that was filling the news at the moment, an actor versus his ex-wife who was accusing him of having jars of cocaine and ‘mega pints’ of red wine or some bull shit like that.

It was frivolous. And really, Steve had no idea why it was news. But the fact it was, meant there was nothing more worthy of the airtime, meaning things with the WSC and senate were calm.

Which was fine by him.

He sighed contently and brought his whiskey to his lips. He'd nearly finished the glass by the time he'd heard your truck pulling up toward the porch.

He checked his watch, all in all you’d been gone just over an hour. Which meant whatever it was can’t have been that serious. Hopefully, you wouldn’t get another call that night. It was rare that you did when you were covering the emergency shift.

Commando grunted and slipped off the couch to greet you at the door.

“Hi…” you bent down to give him loves, “hi, fella…”

His tail wagged and wagged happily. And when Steve snapped his fingers, the dog walked off. The simple command allowed you to get back inside and shut the door.

"That was quick," Steve spoke gently as he stood from the couch. He made it a point to never, ever have his back to you in conversation if he could help it. You were his equal and you deserved  equal respect.

“Oh, daft animal had been rearing in his stable and got his leg stuck. Nasty cut but I managed to clean it and pad it. Gave him a tetanus booster and that was it, said I’d check back in tomorrow.” You smiled, “I just need ten minutes to type up the notes before I forget.”

"Alright," Steve nodded. "Can I get you a drink. 'Mega?"

“I’ll take a tea, please.” You smiled, “best not drink anymore in case I gotta go back out.”

You took your tablet from your bag and headed to the couch. By the time Steve was placing your drink down, your notes were done.

You shut the device down and placed it on the coffee table, picking up your drink and getting yourself comfortable as you swung your legs up beside you.

Steve picked up your leg from the ankle and set it in his lap, his strong hands rubbing over your calf through your jeans.

"Seren go down okay?"

“Three pages.” Steve chuckled.

You smirked as you blew a little over the rim of your mug, "new record."

“Think today tuckered her out. And I did a little thinking…”

He watched you wince a little as he dug into a knot, "what's that?" You looked at him.

“Maybe a pony of her own ain’t such a bad idea.”

“Okay, that…that didn’t take much convincing at all, Alpha.”

Steve chuckled then he sighed, "I think she's ready. I could make a few calls, see who's got one available."

“No need…” you bit your lip. “The Crafts have one…their youngest has outgrown him. I said I’d talk to you…”

"Oh," Steve nodded, "that works then."

“Yeah, convenient…” you agreed. And then Steve noticed the smirk on your face.

He gave a groan and a snort. “Was I actually going to get a say in whether or not she got a pony or was this just something you were gonna do regardless?”

"I mean I was just making it known that we'd discussed it. Formalities of checking with my mate and all that."

Oh, checking with your mate? Don’t you mean asking permission from your Alpha?” Steve teased.

"Details, details," you sniggered.

Steve rolled his eyes and took a sip from his drink. “So, what is it?”

“A male Shetland pony. Called Coco.”

Steve merely nodded as you continued.

“And. Let’s face it, it’s an investment.” You continued, “because when Seren has outgrown him, well…hopefully there’ll be another little one who’s ready to take the reins so to speak.”

Steve's face softened. "yeah?"

“Yeah.” You looked at him, a smile on your lips. “I thought that maybe when my next heat is due to hit, I don’t get my shot…see what happens.”

"Don't, don't do it." He sat forward, "I'm ready, darlin'."

You bit your lip, “me too.”

Steve held your ankles on his lap with one hand and leaned forward toward you more, "I want as many pups as we can, while we can."

“Woah, slow down there cowboy…” you chuckled, “I’m absolutely happy for two, I could be persuaded for three…”

Steve pecked your lips, "I'm teasing. We talked about two, but I'd be alright with three."

You smiled, your hand running through his hair, and then you moved to press your fingers to your mark.

I love you… your voice echoed in his head.

“I love you too," he whispered lowly. "So much, 'Mega."

“Kiss me Alpha.”

It took a tiny growl from his chest before his lips slowly, tenderly melted against your own. His soft kiss fluttered your insides and without though to it, you were in his lap.

Your hands cupped his bearded cheeks, the pads of your fingers softly brushing against his bristles as your lips allows his to lead them in a slow, sensual dance.

"Lemme love on you, 'Mega."

“Always…” your nose brushed his, “take me to bed.”

Steve needn't say another word, nor make any extra moves. He simply stood as he settled you into his arms and began his way towards the stairs. Blindly, yet expertly, he carried you up and up, to your bedroom where your bed awaited.

With a tenderness he reserved especially for you, he laid you down in the middle, on top of your pale blue comforter and positioned himself over you. One knee nestled between your thighs, his left hand planted by your head whilst his right hand cupped your face.

"My beautiful 'Mega," his voice whispered as his breath gently fanned your face.

Your own hand reached up, fingers gently tracing the curve of his jaw as he closed his eyes.

“My handsome, strong, protective Alpha.” You purred.

Time stood still when the two of you were like this. The intimacy so pure, that it squeezed at the heart in your chest that now beat for only he and Seren.

Steve dipped his head and captured your lips in a soft kiss. The feel of his lips on yours made you hummed against him. You parted your lips as the tip of Steve's tongue tickled at the pucker lines of your bottom lip.

Your hands dipped, finding the hem of his shirt and you gave a tug.

Steve's kiss barely stopped as you pulled the shirt up and over his head. The material pooled at his wrist by your ear. His fist curled together in his right hand, and he knuckled the mattress to flick away his tee. His lips were quickly back on yours trailing across your jaw and down your neck.

You sighed, happily, an Omega trill rolling in your throat which made Steve grumble a chuckle in response.

He sat back on his knees and pulled at the hem of your own tee as he did so, taking your body with him. With a light giggle you fell back with a little bounce to the mattress.

"That's better," Steve rasped as he bent back over you. He continued his trail of bearded kisses down your décolletage, to between your breasts and descending towards your navel.

He smiled against your skin as your belly twitched, always the same. So sensitive and ticklish in areas. He found it cute, and sexy.

He gave a nip to the skin below your belly button at the tip of your scar that gave him his daughter. Then he kissed the sting away tenderly. Those glittering, cerulean eyes looked up at you and he smiled against your skin.

You felt as if you blinked and then suddenly you laid naked before your Alpha, bar the bra that covered your breasts.

You chuckled and Steve looked at you, his chin resting on your sternum.

“What?”

“Nothin, just the speed at which you undress me always amuses me.”

"You make me very impatient, doll."

“I bet you say that to all the girls…”

"Just you," he smirks as his beard began to tickle the inside of your calve.

“Good to know…” you sighed.

"Mmhmm," he kept his lips to your leg.

You trilled again as whiskers tickled the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, Mega…I love those noises…” he worked his way up.

He nudged that joint where hip and thigh came together, scenting you. Your hand automatically tangled in his hair, your breath hitching in your chest.

Tentatively, Steve nosed your mound, the tip of his tongue tickling your swelling, sensitive bud. You whined, your back arching off the bed.

A low rumble sounded in your ears as Steve tasted you. He locked at you like a kitten to milk.

You whimpered and moaned softly, your knees caging his head in at his ears as your alpha gave you what you craved, what you wanted.

He'd eat away at you with fervor, then he'd slow to a near stop and  make love to you there like it would be the last time.

And you loved every single moment.

Your orgasm was growing close, and you felt your body teetering on the edge of bliss. Tingling through your body felt like soda bubbles in your nerves.

"S'close, Alpha..."

He growled a little, before just as you knew he would, he slowed down. Leaving you mewling and begging for more.

"Please, Alpha..."

With a final grunt, Steve pulled away and wiped his face on the comforter. With a quick movement, he was up, out of his jeans and then back over you.

You were breathless, your body aflame. A sheen of sweat was beginning to cover your skin as you burnt hot from within.

“I got you, mega…” he whispered.

Steve held himself as he slipped right into you, a moan from you and a groan from him filling the airy space of the room.

Your hands flew to his broad back, curling round his shoulders as you dug your fingers into his muscles.

"You feel so good, doll." Steve's voice tickled your ear.

“You too…” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper over your panting.

Steve pulled back and slowly thrust back in, a rolling tide to his hips as he set the pace of loving on you.

His hands reached for yours, fingers lacing through your own as he pressed them either side of your head.

You sighed as his body melted into yours. The weight of him felt like a warm blanket, comforting you and securing you. It gave you a never ending sense of security. And to lock your bodies together tightly; you raised your hips and brought your ankles up to settle the heels of your feet against his lower back.

“Shit…” he grunted, his eyes closing for a moment before they opened, locked back on yours.

"There you are, Alpha," you sighed as he kept rolling those hips into you. "Don't ever hide." His eyes flashed a little as you arched into him even more. “Let go, Steve…”

"No....not 'til you...."

Always putting you first, that never changed. No matter what, you were his priority in your moments together. 

You preened your neck, stretching out for him. You felt his nose dip along your mark, and he shuddered. Your lips parted in a sigh as you started to tilt your hips again to meet him.

His teeth nipped softly at your mating gland, enough for you to feel it, but not enough to break the skin.

"Oh shit," you rasped. "Alpha...."

“Mega…my mega…”

"I'm...." you needed just a little more, you were so damn close.

Steve knew, he always knew. His hips picked up the pace, but somehow he kept the same depth and rhythm. 

His lips claimed yours, the kiss deep yet soft. A juxtaposition. Just like your alpha himself. So strong, get gentle. So firm, but soft.

"Alpha...." you whined as you tightened around him, your nose buried right against his mark.

“Cum for me, mega…” his voice was deep, his instruction clear. It was an alpha command, the only time he ever used them in you was in moments like this. 

And you craved it.

"Oh my....fuck, yes," you came with a cry.

“Good girl…” Steve panted, his lips back at your mark.

You whined, whimpered then whined again at the praise.

“My beautiful Omega…” Steve’s words were almost whispered, a strain in his voice. 

He was close.

"Steve....let go, baby," you cooed.

“Fuck…” 

You nudged at him with your nose, bringing his eyes back to yours.

Like times before there was the fleck of gold that flashed in his eyes, and you knew he saw it in yours. For the room went black and beyond the gaze of your connection a galaxy swarm around you.

When you finally found yourself again, Steve’s face was buried in your neck. He was panting, deeply. The rise and fall of his chest pressing against you and then releasing you from its hold.

Your fingertips danced up his spine and into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He gave a soft hum.

"I love you, my Alpha," you whispered.

“I love you too, my Omega. And I always will. Until the cows come home.”

“Until the cows come home,” you kissed his neck, before he moved and captured your lips with a soft, sweet kiss. “Until the cows come home.”

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.20

Stephanie sighed again in boredom, kicking her legs as she sat on the examination table in the sterile white room that resembled every other examination room she's been in. They didn't let all five of them to be in the room with her so only Geralt was leaning against the wall, arms folding over his chest. He worked for the Council, the others didn't, so she supposed they trusted him to not do anything shady. Although she did catch a couple surprised, even fearful, looks in August's direction as they had walked inside the nondescript high rise downtown. Something she would ask him about later, if she remembered.

“We request your presence,” She said, mimicking Solo's voice and making Geralt perk a small smile, “But we're going to have your strip down to your smalls, put on a paper thin gown, and sit in a cold room for fucking forever.”

“Don't know what they expect to find.” Geralt said.

“I'm going to pop negative on a test. Every time I go for a check-up since you guys went public, they've tested me for lycanthropy along with other routine things and it came back negative every time.” She said, “And it's a feeling you guys have, not exactly something you can find a scan. Unless they hooked diodes to your head or something and had you gaze longingly into my eyes again.” He snorted at that.

“They're probably listening.” He said, “Don't give them ideas.”

“Come here.” She said, opening her arms and he arched a brow at her, pushing away from the wall. “I'm cold and you're a space heater. Get over here and cuddle me.” He snorted again, walking over to her and standing in front of her on the exam table, wrapping her in his arms and holding her against his chest.

“You are cold.” He remarked and she hummed happily as she sank into him.

“Warm.” She said wistfully and he smiled, pressing his lips to her hair as his hands moved over her back. “I'm worried.”

“About this?”

“No.” She said, shaking her head, “We haven't heard or seen anything of Jordan in a while and I—I want to believe that he's gone, that he gave up, but I don't...”

“I've felt him.” Geralt said, “Well, I've felt a Feral when I walk the territory at night. He hasn't tried anything and I haven't seen him, but he's there.”

“I don't like that.” She said, “That he's hiding out in the woods like some bogeyman, waiting for an opportunity.”

“He's never going to hurt you,” Geralt said, his arms tightening just a little bit. “Ever again.”

“Are you alone when you walk around at night?” She asked and he nodded against her hair. “Well, that's going to stop. Take one of the others with you. Buddy system, Mister.”

“I don't—”

“Geralt, for my peace of mind,” She said, “Take one of the others with you.”

“You're not going to ask me to stop altogether?”

“Would you if I did?”

“No.”

“So I'm not going to ask.” Stephanie said, “It may be Sy's territory on paper, but it's all of yours in truth. Also, please don't tell me you unzip on trees while you're doing your walk around.” He was quiet. “Oh sweet Jesus.”

“I don't always patrol on two legs.” He said in his defense and she thumped her forehead against his chest a few times in exasperation. The door to the room cracked open and he pulled away so they could look over at it.

“Is it safe to come in?” Asked the gentle female voice.

“Come on in.” Stephanie said and the door opened wider, the woman wearing a white physicians coat over mint green scrubs walking into the room.

“They told me your Mate was in here with you, and the last time I didn't ask when Mates were together, I walked in on them in flagrante delicto. Better safe than sorry.” She explained briefly, “Ms. Daniels, I'm Dr. Evelyn Mercer with the Pack Council, and this must be Geralt Rivian?” He nodded, “How are you both today?”

“Kinda wondering what you all expect to find, actually.” Stephanie said.

“Same, actually.” She admitted, “I've looked over your medical records and I contacted your GP to get current records and there are no biological signs of lycanthropy, but now that I'm in the same room as you, I can understand why they wanted me to check.”

“I don't feel entirely human, apparently.” She said with a shrug.

“We can't feel humans, exactly, they don't feel like anything in the same way that another person would feel like to you. It's more you don't feel entirely like a wolf. It's there, albeit faintly.”

“Sy said I have the “idea” of a wolf inside me.” Stephanie said and the doctor shrugged.

“Sounds about right.” She said, “Have you noticed any differences in the way other wolves acted around you after your accident versus before?”

“You guys weren't out when I had my accident so I wouldn't know who was a wolf and who wasn't.” She said, “But now that you mention it...”

“Steph?” Geralt asked.

“There was a jock asshole who used to make my life a living hell in high school, my entire friend group actually, a real walking cliche. We were kind of the social outcasts, didn't really fit in with the other groups, even though I was on the school rugby team. One day, a couple weeks after I got back, he was picking on the freshman in our group, being a raging douchebag, pushing him around. I got in his face and told him to back off. He looked like he was going to start in on me too, wouldn't have been the first time, but he suddenly backed down and apologized. He avoided us after that, wouldn't even look at us, or me.” Stephanie said.

“Dollars to doughnuts he was a wolf.” The doctor said, “He felt your “idea” of a wolf and it outranked his.”

“We have a theory that she'd be a female Alpha.” Geralt said.

“Multiple Mates, makes sense.”

“She claimed our Beta as her own.” Geralt said.

“She was able to do that?” Evelyn asked, her brows jumping in surprise.

“That's what Mike, the Beta, told me.” Stephanie said.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?” Evelyn asked and Stephanie shrugged.

“Fine by me.”