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minty-mumbles · 3 years ago

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Sunkissed Scales

Summary: The last thing Time expected to do today was meet a Siren that got caught up in the fishing nets. Unfortunately for him, that was exactly what happened.

I make a Pirate AU, and Wind is literally the only character who isn't a pirate. I live for chaos.

Read it on AO3 here

~~~

Time was used to loud commotions on his ship. His small crew of seven were as good as family, but goddess, could their arguments be loud sometimes. Normally, the noise went away quickly.

Conflict didn’t tend to linger, and even those who held the most animosity for each other, like Legend and Warriors, knew better than to let a grudge stand. Out at sea, there was nowhere to go to escape each other. On top of that, sailing was not easy. It could be dangerous at times. They needed to be able to work together like a well oiled machine at a moments’ notice.

Even if a big argument did crop up, Time was usually confident that his second mate, Twilight, would be able to sort them out. The man was good at calming hot tempers and staying the hands of those who would draw weapons.

But Twilight’s skills with negotiation were rarely needed, like Time said. True arguments are rare.

So when screaming broke out above deck, Time knew he should probably be concerned. He had been in his cabin, reading a letter from his wife that he had picked up at the last port. He had just gotten through the first page of the letter when a shriek rang out. Time waited for a moment to see if Twilight or even Warriors would be able to smooth the situation over.

Unfortunately for his good mood, the shrieking did not go away.

And they did not sound like happy shrieks.

Several loud voices joined in the commotion. Time couldn’t pick out individual words, or even who specifically was yelling, but the panic and anger in the voices was clear.

Okay, this was sounding a lot less like there was an argument, or like it was just the boys having fun and messing around. It was starting to sound a lot more like someone was hurt.

Time threw down his letter, and swiftly exited the room.

When he reached the deck, chaos awaited him. Twilight and Warriors were indeed trying to calm down their fellow crewmates. They weren’t being overly successful. Four had squirreled himself away up the rigging. He seemed to be content to watch the disarray from a safe distance, where he wasn’t likely to be trampled. Wild was right next to him, munching on an apple, enjoying the chaos. (Time really needed to talk to him about where he kept getting apples in the middle of the ocean.)

And there in the center of it all were Legend, Sky, and Hyrule. Legend was yelling, flushed with anger in a way Time had never seen from him before. Sky and Hyrule were both standing protectively in front of the fishing net, which was hanging above the deck. They were seemingly shielding it from the irate veteran.

However, what drew his eye, or rather, his ear, immediately was none of that chaos. It was the screaming coming from said net.

Time paused, taking a moment to assess the situation before rushing in. Dealing with this would take a delicate touch.

Curled up in the net, currently screeching his head off, was a Siren.

Sirens were infamous creatures of the sea. There were plenty of myths and legends surrounding their kind, but most sailors could agree that actually seeing one was usually a bad sign. Their voices were powerful, and when they put their minds to it, their songs could enchant sailors into dreams filled with their victim’s deepest desire, so they would never wish to leave.

Time knew that most of his crew had never seen a Siren before. They had talked about it, though. Some of the crew, including Wild, Four, Warriors, Hyrule, and Twilight, had neutral opinions regarding the creatures. None of them had met one before, so had no reason to form opinions, besides being generally wary.

Sky was one of those that adhered to the old belief that Sirens were creatures sent by the Goddess Hylia to look after seas, much like she had sent the Koroks to tend to the forests of Hyrule.

Legend, however, had remained silent, giving off such angry energy that no one had dared to ask him his opinion on the subject, and the conversation moved on quickly. Time suspected he had had a bad encounter with a siren before. A very bad one, that he had not moved on from.

Time had not contributed to that particular conversion, and he couldn’t blame Legend for his sullenness on the topic, not when he himself had been much the same when he was younger.

Time strode forward quickly, calling for peace and for those quarreling to cease, just for a moment. They obeyed. Four and Wild came down from the rigging, with Warriors and Twilight backing off. Hyrule nervously shifted away from where he was standing.

Legend was reluctant to back down until Time put a calming hand on his shoulder. Sky didn’t move from where he was standing protectively in front of the net until Legend did, but eventually, everyone was relatively calm. Even the Siren had quieted down, staring intently around at all of them. His eyes gleamed, tracking all of their movements carefully, but refusing to meet any of their eyes.

Time took a second to assess the Siren in turn, taking in his appearance. He looked young, although perhaps he was entering he teen years. He was much too small to be fully grown, at any rate.

There was no way someone could mistake this creature as anything other than a Siren. For the chest up, he looked mostly Hylian, save for the fins sprouting from the side of his head, which were a bit too big for him. He probably needed to grow into them.

He was blonde, which wasn’t uncommon in Hyrule. Most of Time’s own crew had blond hair, but this siren’s locks put them all to shame. Even wet, the color was not dulled, and it gleamed like gold under the midday sun. The boy had sunkissed tan skin, from spending his life in the shallows that that they were currently sailing through. For the most part, he looked like any boy you might see in a seaside town.

However, his chest was where that illusion got shattered. Along his ribs, gills were pressed firmly closed against the salty air. Creeping along the sides of his torso, following the lines of his gills, the Siren’s scales glimmered blue in the sun, occasionally flashing an iridescent green. At the Siren’s waist, the scales wrapped completely around his body, and where legs would be on any normal Hylian, instead there was a long powerful tail.

At first glance, Time thought his scales were rippled with white, but upon closer inspection, he could see that the white stripes were actually scars. Many of them, covering not only his tail, but also his torso. There was even a rather large one criss crossing over his gills, and several small nicks on his ear fins.

He wore very little, only an orange sash wrapped around his hips, and a simple necklace with a chunk of pink coral on it. A pair of binoculars were attached to his sash.

The most concerning thing was the blood dripping from him onto the deck. For a moment, Time wondered if Legend had gotten to the creature before Sky or Hyrule could stop him. But he could see that it was the net causing him harm. It was wrapped around his tail, cutting into his fins.

Time wanted to groan and bury his face in his hands. Thankfully, he resisted the urge. He needed to show a calm face for his crew. First thing to sort out…

He turned to Legend, who was still silently seething under Time’s hand. “What happened?” His tone wasn’t demanding, but it was obvious it wasn’t a request. Legend didn’t seem reluctant to tell him though.

“I was just hauling up the net, and that,” he shot a glare at the Siren, who met his gaze steadily, “was trapped in the net. I was trying to take care of the problem before he could kill us all, but someone stopped me.” Here, he shot a look of ire at Sky and Hyrule.

Before Time could respond to that, Sky snapped back. “You can’t just kill him. He’s a creation of the goddess. If we do, she might cast divine judgment on us. We might as well release him. We’re taking a risk either way.”

Hyrule also offered their own opinion. “You can't just attack him because he could kill us, Legend. If you acted that way all the time, you would have to kill all of us.” Time raised an eyebrow in surprise at that. Hyrule rarely went against anything Legend said, even if they disagreed with their mentor, simply out of respect. But, Time supposed, Hyrule’s fairy blood made them familiar with people wanting to kill them just for their ancestry.

Time considered, but ultimately knew he would not condemn this boy to death because of Legend’s hatred of Sirens.

“Cut him down.” Time demanded, drawing his knife and handing it off to Hyrule. He kept his watchful eye on the young siren. He may be willing to set him free, but he would not tolerate him trying to hurt one of his crew.

Legend held out an arm to stop Hyrule before they could draw close to the creature. “That,” Legend hissed, “is a Siren. He could ensnare us all in his spell at any time, and none of us would be able to do anything about it.” True anger and hurt was seeping into his tone now, “He could trap us in illusions, show us our deepest desires, and none of us would even know until we wake up. If we wake up.”

Time let Legend say his piece, but ultimately, as Captain, he had final say. “And yet, he hasn’t done so. I have dealt with sirens before,” This earned him shocked looks from his entire crew, which he ignored. “It is better to cut him free rather than risk being cursed. Sirens do not just lull people to sleep with songs of desire. They can also command the sea, and they only get more powerful as they age. This one probably doesn't pose much of a threat to us. But I’d bet anything his guardian will.”

Time nodded at Hyrule. “Do it.”

Hyrule nodded, keeping an eye on the trussed up siren in the net as they stepped forward. The Siren, his eyes wide and defiant, watched Hyrule step forwards. When he saw the knife the sailor held, the Siren started thrashing.

Time sighed. He had sent Hyrule to do the job of cutting the siren free because they were the least intimidating person in the entire crew. Hyrule was also very unassuming, unlike many on Time’s small crew. They were the least likely to frighten the young siren right away.

(Well, maybe Hyrule wasn’t the least physically intimidating, thought Time, with a quick glance in the smithy’s direction. But, well... to be honest, Time wasn’t even sure the Smithy was even tall enough to do the job of cutting the Siren free.)

On top of that, Hyrule always seemed to give off a calming energy. This, Time knew, was due to their fairy heritage. He wasn’t sure if the calming effect would work on the Siren, as he was a magical creature himself, but every advantage would help them.

Unfortunately, although the Siren had been relatively calm at first sight of Hyrule approaching, the sight of the knife they held had pushed him into panic.

Hyrule shakily wiped their sweaty palms on their pants, and set to work.

It was slow going. Hyrule was obviously skittish, and fearful of the creature. They startled back at every movement he made. Thankfully, the Siren had stopped thrashing around once he realized that Hyrule was indeed setting him free, and was not gutting him with the knife they carried.

After a few minutes, with only minimal progress made, Time relented, and motioned Warriors forward to help Hyrule. With the two of them working together, it was only a few minutes before the net was cut and the Siren slithered to the floor.

He didn’t immediately throw himself over the side of the ship, which Time didn’t know whether to be thankful for or not.

On one hand, if the Siren left now, he would probably be grateful to the crew for setting him free and not killing him, and that would be that. No curses involved.

On the other hand, the boy was still bleeding. Already a puddle was forming under him on deck. He needed medical attention.

Hyrule, seeing the same, took a tentative step forward. He was obviously still a little shaken by the creature. (Despite being magical themself, Hyrule rarely encountered magical creatures besides other fairies that hadn’t automatically tried to kill them. Time could understand their hesitation.) They had put aside their discomfort at the sight of someone in need of help, the healer in them overriding their caution.

Instead of Legend, it was Time who stopped them this time. “Wait. Let me go first.”

“Uhhh, are you sure that's a good idea?” Warriors cautioned. ”You can be kind of intimidating on a good day. We don’t want him to panic. Even more.”

Time tilted his head to show he heard, but started forward anyways. The Siren hissed at his approach, scrambling back against the railings, Time could see now that the wounds on his tail were deep. The Siren likely wouldn’t be able to swim without great discomfort or pain for a good while. This was worse than Time thought.

As Time drew closer, the Siren flared his fins, baring his unnaturally long teeth. A guttural hiss escaped him, but Time didn't back down.

He kept an even pace, drawing closer slowly.

Time could see the moment the Siren actually got a good look at his face, and laid eyes on the markings there. His demeanor immediately went from fearful and defiant to eager and astonished. A single word slipped out of his mouth, spoken in the guttural songs of the deep.

“Kin.”

And indeed, the Siren was right. The blue V on his forehead marked him as a Siren-Friend. And the red marks under his eye, the ones he saw reflected back at him from the cheek of the young guppy, marked Time as good as kin to him.

While the Siren examined Time’s face, Time took the time to do the same. In the tattoos on his body, Time could read the status of this child. Humans usually would not be privy to the markings’ meanings. Humans also should not usually be able to innately understand Tempest Tongue, the language of Sirens.

Most humans, however, had not been possessed by the spirit of an ancient Siren that was trapped forever more inside a mask.

Time was just special like that.

This guppy was remarkably well decorated for one his age. Normally a Siren his age would only have their family markings, but this one had much more than that. Not that Time should be surprised. This Siren was descended from the very same, immensely powerful, Siren that Time himself had known.

The two red marks under his eye showed this affiliation. The rest of his family would have the same mark. Around his left wrist were tattooed thick black bands, the marks of a warrior. They announced to the world that this boy had bested enemies more powerful and fearsome than him, and that he was skilled in combat.

Up that same arm, symbols speaking of his deeds were placed. There was an hourglass on his shoulder. The gold sand inside the tattoo was slowly trickling downwards. Time was shocked to see the tattoo moving, but shook it off. That the Siren’s tattoos were moving was not the most shocking thing he’d seen today. Siren’s were proficient in magic, after all. Lower down on the boy’s arm, some sort of wand was pictured, with multicolored music notes slowly floating around it.

The crest of Hylia featured prominently across the Siren’s chest, the Triforce gleaming gold. This proclaimed the wearer’s loyalty to the Goddess, and such a tattoo wasn’t only worn by Sirens. Many of Time’s crew wore similar marks on their own bodies. Underneath that, the symbol of the Goddess Farore was worn proudly, in the traditional green.

Along with the permanent marks on him, he had doodles swirled around his back, drawn with a water resistant paint. Little pictures of fish and seagulls littered his back, while a line of hermit crabs marched down the boy’s right arm. The lines were unsteady, obviously drawn by a young child’s hand, even younger than the child before them.

Time’s eyes wandered back to the Siren’s, and was shocked to see that, for the first time, the boy would meet his eyes. He seemed to be pleased with what he had found in his own examination of Time, and was much more relaxed.

The Siren breathed out a relieved sigh. The only thing he did before slumping into Time’s arms, unconscious, was to breathe out the same word from earlier, this time in common Hylian.

“Kin.”

~~~

Several months later, Time once again heard screaming from above deck.

It sounded much less panicked than those screams half a year later. He stood and stretched out his legs. He had been plotting their new course for free hours now, and might as well take a break. He strolled out of the room.

Up on the deck, the scene he was met with was reminiscent of the one he had found the day they met Wind.

Most of the crew had paused in their work to take in the spectacle. Legend was the one screaming, but there was no true anger in his gaze this time. Hyrule was again trying to hold him back, but was made weak by the laughter they couldn’t hold back.

And there, draped over the railing of the ship, was the newest addition to the crew.

(Well, Time thought privately, it was less like he was an addition, and more like he had just refused to leave the ship for long, even once he was healed.)

Taking in the veteran’s soaked appearance, it was obvious what had happened, even if Legend's screeches of “If you splash me one more time, I’m going to find a way to drown you, gills be damned!” didn’t tip him off.

He smiled, leaning against the mast of the ship. He took an apple from Wild, content to eat it and watch the show.

#Their ship is named Farosh after the goddess Farore #Legend had a little run in with a very powerful siren #who may or may not have shown him visions of his /dream girl/#mint’s writing #lu time #lu wind #lu legend #lu sky #lu hyrule #lu four #lu wild #lu twilight #lu warriors #linked universe #lu fanficiton #mermaid au #Mermaid!Wind

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shyrose57 · 4 years ago

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I fell like Tommy came out looking just a bit to pretty sooo I’m going to make up for that byyyyyy making ANOTHER IDEA😃

Tommy takes care of the garden but he want’s some decorations, so what better way to decorate a garden than status! This begins Tommy's unstoppable work of making the perfect statue.

Tommy spends about one or two months on this, with absolutely no brakes, when finally he's done! The statue looks solo real! In fact it looks as if an actual angle fell from heaven and became stone, just an angle kid! Tommy ends up getting attached to this statue the spent so much time on that he decides to add something extra!

Tommy heads to the garden and finds the most beautiful flower, it's bright green on the center with petals of magenta and windage blue, mixed with bits of lavender and bright purple, Tommy makes sure to leave a don't/offering for snowchester and only picks up the flower once the gifts disappear.

Now with the statue holding the flower in it's tiny, almost flawless hands, Tommy leaves and heads to bed for the night.

The next morning there is no statue in sight but a little girl, younger than Michale, looks at him with big blue, Rosie checks, Light blond hair, pure white wing on her back and a little halo shining golden light. The angle reaches out her hands and calls Tommy ‘dad!’

Tommy completely fails to notice the transparent wings on his back, or the multicolored halo on his head.

The blond girl becomes Tommyinnits daughter, Clemetine goddess of life. Tommy becomes the keeper of life, Creation, still Tommy, he’s just far more intun with life, and can seamlessly create anything.

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What do you think? Give me your ideas on how things would happen/playout after this.

Btw Tommy totally ran to purples house with clementine in a complete mess just to figure out what the fuck was going on, once he wasn't freaking out and being well Tommy, they figured things out and mostly everything stays as it normally would!

Well as normally at it’ll be getting!

I like a lot of things about this!

Tommy wanting more decorations for the garden? Cool. What else does he had to that hauntingly beautiful vibe his greenhouse has?

And I’m really interested in the whole offering for Snowchester thing. Snowchester doesn’t really require them, but it’s certainly a nice way to say thank you, so everyone in the town leaves some small sort of gift out for it once in awhile. The only one who never has is Tubbo, unaware of it’s sentience-but it will never want for anything for him, when he already pours so much love into it’s land with each day. As long as his heart beats in time with it’s own, Snowchester will be content.

The flower sounds very pretty too. If Tommy’s the one who grew it, he probably wouldn’t need Snowchester’s approval to pick it-the greenhouse is his place after all, and though it may reside on it’s land, it respects Tommy’s space. and knows that he trust it to protect this place for him. Maybe he was just saying thank you for keeping watch over Tubbo while he was so invested in the statue.

His statue becoming a real person? Absolutely amazing. I love that. Clementine deserves a place in Snowchester. Michael declares himself her older brother, and the two kids can often be seen laughing around Snowchester, safe within it’s grounds. Clementine more often than not has flowers in her hair, and her little wings blend in with the sparkling snow.

I do feel like Tommy being Creation is a touch overpowered, especially with him already having his ghost/phantom abilities. I kind of want the kids to be a bit nerfed power wise, if only because they live next to literal deities.

But that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. Maybe not now, but in a far, far future, where Snowchester is but a legend of the SMP, and it’s inhabitants have long since become more, coming into power written in myths.

An End King, and his husband, the Ambassador to all. The ruler of the end, and the immortal who understands the words of everyone and everything, and is equally heard in turn.

A long lived assassin, said to speak to the dead and weave spells and potions as fatal as his blade.

And a young deity, who creates something from almost nothing(a shattered piece of a soul made new, lingering despair made into powerful hope, ect), a specific creaition, with the iridescent, shattered pieces of a halo floating above his head, and bearing ghostly wings on his back.

So, alternatively for Clementine’s creation, maybe it’s a similar scene to Snowchester’s awakening, with a mix of some magic. Maybe it’s partly to do with the lingering revival magic on Tommy, his growing care for both the statue and his already powerful bond with his garden(perhaps similarly becoming sentient to Snowchester, if a bit less), and something to do with that beautiful flower you described.

Tommy sets it into the statue’s hand with gentle care and tired fondness, finally going to sleep-he may not need as much, but he’s definitely pushed himself to the limit these weeks.

He passes out at Purpled’s house, and in the morning, takes him to see the statue-imagine their shock when a little girl sits sleeping in the garden instead, unbothered by even the more snappy plants, and immediately calls Tommy ‘dad’ upon waking up.

The two spent a moment having a silent conversation(read:panic), before bolting to Tubbo’s house with the girl in Tommy’s arms to bang on his door until he opens it so he can help-after all, he’s the parent here.

After a lot of confusion, and shouting, everyone eventually settles down with hot chocolate in Town Square, and introduce Clementine to the other residents of Snowchester. Michael takes to her immediately. Puffy offers to babysit.

Hilariously enough, nobody outside the town thinks Clementine’s the slightest bit strange, despite the fact that she literally appeared from nowhere. They’re all convinced Tommy just grabbed a kid off the street-he’s picked up some of Phil’s habits, they decide, oblivious to the way the flora reaches out for the child, and how her wings are whiter than any avian they’ve ever seen.

She’s just a kid, no more, no less.

#Shadow Over Snowchester AU #tommyinnit #purpled #tubbo #michael the zombie pigchild #clementine #captain puffy #ranboo #dream smp #dream smp au

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missdreamsalot · 4 years ago

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The Queen’s Guard- Ch.1

A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my first attempt at a Fanfic and I’m both nervous and excited about finally posting the very first chapter. I’m still quite new to this platform and haven’t been quite active up until now but I love Choices and want to be a little more lively here. Thank you, and I hope you guys like this!

Book: The Royal Romance

Main Pairings: Leo x OC, Liam x OC.

Future Pairings: Maxwell x OC, Bastien x OC, Drake x Olivia

Summary: A rotten apple in the family threatens their lives and there is only one way to get rid of bad blood.

Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, Language, Sexual Content, Angst, Dark Situations, Character Death

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of The Royal Romance, or Rules of Engagement; they belong to Pixelberry. I only own my OC’s.

Enjoy~ *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

CH 1: Ghosts

In the Ramsford Estate, Elle sat quietly at the vanity of the room she occupied for the past summer. She stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. Her long, brown hair had dulled, olive skin had paled, and the light of her green eyes had been extinguished.

A month had passed since the day of the Coronation, 30 days since the man she loved broke her heart, and the 720 hours of self-loathing had crippled her at last.

A broken cry escaped her lips as she hugged herself tight. How could she had been so foolish to think that it could work? He had his place and she had hers – a place that she hid from everyone in order to protect them, to protect him.

She knew she couldn’t stay much longer, no matter how much she wanted to fight for him, it simply wouldn’t be possible. Her enemies would only continue to draw them apart. The pictures that were published was only the tip of the iceberg and from there it would only spiral into darker depths, unleashing more suffering and heartbreak.

‘It’s over’, she thought.

Out on the patio that same evening, the night air danced through Elle’s hair as she stared up at the sky. She returned her eyes to Maxwell’s face that had dropped into sadness upon her declaration of leaving and returning home.

“I want to fight with you on this” the younger Beaumont brother started, “and I want to say to give it a little more time, that things will get better, but-“ he sighed, rubbing his face in frustration, “I don’t know when or if it will. I blame myself for putting you in this position, and I’m sorry-“

“Maxwell,” Elle placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. None of us could’ve predicted this. It’s out of our control.” It truly was. The capacity of which they can change things was out of their hands.

Suddenly the world swayed, she grabbed the front of her dress as her stomach churned and she groaned miserably.

Maxwell perked up in alarm as the color drained from her face. “What’s wrong?”

Elle waited until it passed while contemplating if she should express the truth to Maxwell-A truth that even herself could not come to terms with.

She shook her head, “Nothing, I just-”

“Forgot to take your iron?” Maxwell finished.

Her eyes met his and she smiled faintly. “Yes,” was all she could muster. A few moments later he returned with a glass of orange juice and an iron pill.

“Don’t tell me you forgot you were anemic?” Maxwell stated lightheartedly as he handed her the supplement first. “You need to take better care of yourself!”

“I do,” she spoke softly. After gulping down the last drop of juice, she gave the glass back to him and again her eyes found their way back to the starry sky. For an instant, she found herself drifting away and, instead of the stars, there were two of the brightest eyes looking down at her- tender, iridescent, and blue…” but I can’t do that here.” She continued, “Thank you for being there for me, Maxwell. You’re such a great friend. Honorable at that...”

“You make it sound like I’m never gonna see you again,” Maxwell pouted. She blinked away the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

“I-AH!”

He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly against him. “Don’t worry! If you ever need anything, I’ll always be here for you!”

“Okay, okay!” she exclaimed, patting his shoulder soothingly. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

Before they knew it, Elle was walking the tarmac to the plane that would whisk her way. She looked back, giving one last wave to the Beaumont brothers, Maxwell waving enthusiastically, while Bertrand stared as intensely as ever, giving her a final nod of acknowledgement.

As she took her seat, the tears finally spilled and her eyes never burned so painfully.

The jet began its departure, rising into the brilliance of the clear, blue sky and leaving behind a man who could only dream to be with the woman he loved.

6 Months Later /// Present Day: Cordonia ///

Liam sat at his desk hunched over a flood of papers. He was in the middle of finalizing a public statement when there was a knock at his door. “You may enter.” He called out; his attention glued to the paper in front of him. With a dramatic swirl, he signed the parchment in satisfaction.

“Hello, baby brother.”

Liam looked up with a smile that didn’t quite reach his once lively blue eyes. “Leo.” He stood up and they shared a hug before parting. “How are you doing?” He began rustling through the documents, piling them haphazardly until they were neat enough that he placed his main piece front and center; ready to go.

“Well, if you checked your phone every now and then you would know.” Leo teased, wandering over to the drink cart.

“Sorry, it’s been a bit hectic lately,” Liam grabbed his coat draped over the back of his chair and dug into the inside pocket. As he pulled his phone out, his keys fell out and hit the floor. He bent down to pick them up and gazed over them for a moment, his eyes settling on a particular keychain. He ran his thumb over the miniature statue of liberty before placing the keys back.

His older brother chuckled, “I was only messing with you. No need to apologize.”

Liam turned to face his brother who was already holding out a glass of bourbon for him. “Thanks.”

“My life is viewed as a bit of a train wreck but,” Leo shrugged with a gulp of his drink, “it’s a wanted one.”

“Always the devil may care attitude huh, Leo?”

“You’re surprised?”

Liam shook his head as his lips quirked up in a grin while he scrolled indifferently through his phone.

Leo peered at him over the rim of his glass, taking note of how exhausted he looked. His once-tamed blonde hair was disheveled due to the many times of running his hands through it, and he was hunched forward with an unseen weight on his shoulders.

“Li?”

“Hm?” Liam met his brother’s gaze, his phone closing with a click.

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Liam chuckled, but it was an empty one. “What brought this on?”

“You look like shit for one.”

Liam opened his mouth to retort, but what escaped was only a breath of air. He gazed somberly at the dancing flames in the fireplace. The door to the study opened then and Queen Mother Regina walked in. She smiled softly upon seeing her stepsons.

“Well, I’m glad to see us all here.” She took the couch in between them, setting a thin folder down on the low table. “What was it you wanted to discuss, Liam?”

“Hello to you too, Regina. I’m okay thanks for asking.” Leo interjected nonchalantly.

“I thought you would appreciate me getting straight to the point. I’m sure your itching to get out of here.” Regina stated. “You look well though. I see the divorce holds no ill will for you among other things.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Still giving me shit for that? Of course, you are.”

“I warnedyou about her and looked what happened.”

Liam shifted uncomfortably.

“Right, I’m sure you predicted that she would cheat on me with the bartender. I appreciate you looking out for me.” Leo uttered with contempt.

“I’m leaving.” He blurted out. Both parties turned to Liam at his announcement.

Regina was first to respond, her eyes glimmering with concern. “What do you mean by ‘leaving’?”

“On a break of sorts.”

The Queen Mother relaxed internally. For a moment she thought he was abdicating the throne and that would not have boded well for the kingdom. “First and foremost, Liam...” she started. “Have you spoken to Madeleine about this?”

“No. I wanted to disclose it with you two first.”

“She’s your wife. I think she holds precedence.”

Liam exhaled sharply. “Regardless, I plan on leaving in two days. I’ve already scheduled a press conference for tomorrow morning.

Regina remained silent for a moment, considering his words. “I suppose I should’ve seen this coming. You’ve been opting out of important social events and avoiding the press. Your absence has already become noticed by the people. However, do you know how this is going to look? The people will question ‘why all of a sudden’. So, why now, Liam?”

Liam stared at the now empty tumbler in his hands. “There is nothing to it. I simply need some time to myself. They’ll understand. A lot has happened.”

Leo’s heart bled for him as he looked at the shadows that settled underneath his brother’s eyes. He didn’t know the particular details about what happened following the events of the social season, only that the woman that had captured his little brother’s heart left without a word, taking a bit of it, if not the entire thing with her. Leo knew better than to allow Liam to deal with it on his own, but he couldn’t quite find the right words to say without it awakening a considerable amount of pain. He had approached Drake about it and Leo was only met with a biting remark from the snarky man.

“Maybe if you stuck around long enough, you’d know...”

Leo knew better than to fire back, taking into account that it was situation that made Drake react the way he did and that, well… his words stung more than Leo would like to admit.

When the scandal had surfaced at night of the Coronation, Leo knew that it was nothing but a despicable ruse to get the foreign woman out of the running. If it was one thing he regretted the most it was leaving his little brother to endure it on his own. Liam had his close companions, yes, but there was a bond between the brothers no one else can reciprocate. In the end, Leo had selfishly decided to leave, having had enough of the royal crowd. He had taken advantage of his brother’s selflessness asking Liam if he wanted him to stay knowing well enough the he wouldn’t allow him to do that. Liam knew of his distaste towards the royal lifestyle and its overbearing rules. He had insisted that it was alright and was quite determined to figure it out and that, more importantly, he didn’t want Leo to miss out on the motocross tour that was starting in the following days. In turn, Leo did not hesitate to pack his bags and leave.

Leo remembered him saying, ‘Everything will be fine.’ He would only find out later that it would turn out not to be.

Regina sighed before continuing. “Liam, I understand the pain of losing someone you love. Go on, take the time you require to heal your heart. Nevertheless, don’t forget, what is important. Following your father’s death, the Cordonian people need you right now. You cannot abandon them for long. It is your duty to represent our kingdom, bestow strength and trust within our people, but they are beginning to lose faith in you as a king. You need to prioritize their needs and reestablish stability,” Regina paused for a breath, carefully thinking about her next words. “But you needn’t do it alone...Liam, you have your queen and now it is time to consider other things…”

Dread seeped through the blood in Liam’s veins. He knew he couldn’t delay the inevitable much longer. He understood his duties as ruler for a country he loved dearly, but the past 7 months had been hard on him and his father’s death only added to the unrelenting agony in his chest.

“…an heir will bring on tremendous rapture…a flourishing kingdom…”

Liam stopped listening as her words continued. They trailed off in echoes and swirls inside his head with no grasp.

Liam wanted her. The woman that visited his dreams every night. He dreamt of a life with her. There was love, laughter, and endless bliss. That’s how he pictured his future once and thinking about it now made his heart ache much more. He felt like he was suffocating. His chest was tight and his eyes burned from the swelling of unshed tears.

Liam swallowed his anguish and forced out his next words, “I will…proceed with such circumstances when I return.”

“Liam-” Leo began, but when Liam looked up at him with sadness his gaze and half a smile, he realized there was nothing he could say that would make him feel better. He slumped in his seat.

A heavy silence descended them until Regina cleared her throat. “Is there anything else you wanted to address, Liam?”

Liam shook his head. “I have said everything that needed to be said. Thank you for your time. You may be on your way now.”

Regina gave a curt nod. She reached over for the folder on the table and opened it. Removing an article, she stood and faced Leo.

She handed him a pastel green envelope. “I received a correspondence from Evangeline, your mother, several days ago and it’s addressed to you…”

Leo stunned, didn’t know what to say. He grabbed the letter with uncertainty.

“What you decide to do is up to you.”

“Thank you, Regina.”

The Queen Mother gave him a sympathetic smile. “I am sorry about earlier. You didn’t deserve that. I just don’t like seeing you get hurt- either of you. Life is not an easy tread…” She looked over at Liam for a brief moment. Although he was hunched over fiddling with his wedding band, his gaze was a million miles away. “you simply have to do the best you can. Anyways, I’ll leave you boys to it.” She exited the room, leaving her sons with their thoughts.

Leo flipped the letter around in his hands contemplating what to do. Why contact him after all these years? She never made an effort to contact him before. Did he really want to reconnect with the woman that abandoned him? The one that left him feeling alone and unloved? His gaze shifted, descending thoughtfully on the bright flames crackling in the fireplace. He stood up and sauntered over to bring the letter above the blaze.

“Leo!” Liam gasped. He felt his brother’s hand enclose his. “Think about this.”

Against the illumination, Leo could make out the scribbles of black ink etched across the paper- her handwriting. He sighed heavily, his heart and mind in a battle of emotions-anger, hope, sadness, or elation. He didn’t know what to feel.

“At least read what she has to say.”

Leo withdrew. “You’re right, I suppose.”

“’You’re right, as always’ is what you meant to say.” Liam added humorously. Leo shoved him playfully, packing the letter in his jacket.

“You’re not going to read it now?”

“I’ll do it on my own time. I need to process this.” Leo poured himself another much-needed drink and immediately chugged it down.

Liam’s phone began to buzz in his pocket. He peered at it inquisitively as it flashed the familiar unknown number. This was the third one from the mysterious caller this past week. He answered the call. “Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello? May I ask who’s calling?” Leo locked eyes with Liam, brows raised in curiosity. Liam shook his head. There was nothing but white noise at the other end. “Hel-” The call ended abruptly with a ding.

“That was strange.” Leo commented.

“It wouldn’t be the first peculiar occurrence. I’ve been getting them randomly over the past three months.”

“Have you had Bastien look into it?”

“My King.”

The two men turned as the head of the king’s guard made his presence known.

“What is it, Bastien?” Liam inquired. He sensed something was wrong.

“It seems there has been a breach in security. An intruder-a woman. We have her contained if you would like to see her.”

Leo whistled, “This day just keeps getting rather interesting.”

Bastien looked grim,

“She says she is here to kill the King of Cordonia.”

#choices #choices leo #choices liam x oc #choices liam #choices leo x oc #trr leo #leo rys #prince leo #king liam #choices trr #trr fanfic #choices the royal romance #trr #pixelberry #the royal romance #trr liam

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vminity21 · 4 years ago

Text

Whimsical | knj

Pairing: Student!Namjoon x female!reader

Genre: fluff/mildangst

Word Count: 4,788

Warning(s): mild language use, slight angst involving the struggles of adulting, tooth rotting fluff, Rating: pg

Summary: Living paycheck to paycheck after moving to Gyeongju has done nothing but plague a bundle of stress upon you. Deciding to take a stroll where the cherry blossoms abundantly bloom, you did not expect to run into an acquaintance of the past; and you definitely did not expect the measure he takes to make sure your burdens are lifted off your shoulders.

“What do you mean it costs this much?” When shock mingling with frustration forms into an exasperated sigh, your hand rakes through your hair in disbelief portraying the definition of stress in its purest authenticity. Your fingers that are curled around the auto insurance bill leave small indents behind when the dreaded piece of paper is now being placed upon the table. “Damnit,” tears flood your eyes while your palms shadow over your cheeks. You have already set money aside to save for the rent for your apartment along with your car payment as well as savings toward your electricity cost. Today, the discovery of your current expense being fifty more dollars than usual means that, yet another week goes by with surviving off the little groceries you have left stored in your pantry.

Shoving out of your jacket, the light air of spring has begun, and for once, you would like to appreciate nature without the anxious feeling of life overwhelming your mind. Eyes scanning the vacancy of your apartment, loneliness returns, and the yearn to hear your mother’s voice has never felt so painful. It has only been six months since you moved hours away for a job offer that you felt would be a good opportunity to further you into the career you have sought for. But, never in your existence did you dream that living paycheck to paycheck could bring so much misery, and hardly being able to speak to your mother has been weighing heavy on your conscious, but your determination to make her proud is what matters to you the most.

The jingle of your keys resonates the living room congruent with the shift of your feet wiggling into your tennis shoes. If there is anywhere you want to be right now, it’s not in this apartment, not near the opened envelopes of woe, not near your bedroom that reminds you of your exhaustion, and not near the refrigerator that is empty of any content that can fill your tummy. The drive to the local park flourishing with pinks and whites of cherry blossoms comes into view quicker than you anticipate, and with schools being in session, the area is not as crowded as it would be on the weekends. Petals float in the wind, swooping to the ground to paint the cement with color- your footsteps slow when the tunnel of tree branches exuberates perfumes of the florets to ease your tense frame.

You return to work tomorrow, but gratefully there is plenty of hours left in the day to explore, and with the solace of the atmosphere, it feels nice to escape from the turmoil of watching your paycheck disappear in order to live. A bench appears further into the path, mahogany tint with protruding sunlight breaking through the trees. Memories of what you consider your ‘past life’ churns with images of times where your grandfather shared stories of his childhood speaking lines of wisdom that encouraged you to be the person that you will and have become. He was the first soul to bring you to a park when you were younger, giving you a tour of what all there was to see- your almond eyes widened with wonder, gripping his hand while you would point out all the sights.

You miss those days more than you will profess, wishing you can relive them especially with what you have been enduring since your move. Gaze dropping to your shoes, hands in pockets- you gasp in surprise when your shoulder meets the figure of someone walking from the opposite direction,

“I’m sorry!” Panic is etched in your voice while you swiftly bow, a blush creeping to your cheeks in embarrassment when your steps quicken along the path. The tone belongs to a man who apologizes in return, yet your eyes keep their focus away from him; you’re very timid, something you’ve struggled with since the day you were born, and it’s hard enough to face your fears as it is, and uncertain on if the stranger would have been angry with you, you find it best to pretend it never happened. At least here, you feel safe alongside nature, and when the familiar sound of a rippling lake perks your auditory senses, a small tug of relief pulls at the corner of your lips, and the earlier chagrin of interrupting someone on their tread will no longer disturb your meditation.

Something seems familiar about this place. Blusterous winds streaming through strands of your hair that tickle your shoulders beneath the blinding rays of the sun where grass pokes at your legs that are exposed from the end of your dress wrinkled upon your thighs. Cumulus clouds keep their distance from the beams flickering immensely within the blanket of blue, brightening the vibrancy of yellow flowers swaying beside stems of rubicund leaflets enhancing the field in iridescent whispers of delicacy.

You have seen this all before somewhere in the slumbers of imagination where your heart aches for peace such as this. Steeps of ornate mountains encompass the field in lavender shades collecting the finishing touches of scenery your dreams desire. But, there is something different. Rather, the sense that you are alone diminishes which prompts your vision to parade the panorama of daylight until a figure enters a distance ahead of you. A pile of wispy, light hair clears to reveal a man, eyes closed- the backs of his hands posed upon his knees leading to his fingers aimed upward mirroring the position you are in. How he seems so close when he is far away startles you even while you memorize the sight of his thick lips lying in a straight line of content.

Your head tilts in profound concentration of where you may have seen him- where you may have known him, but you come up empty, for here in this world of tranquility, you have not seen him here before. There is a strange ponder of wanting to rise to your feet, but you lean forward instead, observing the slow rise and fall of his chest where he breathes in and out deeply. He is clothed in white, darkening his already tanned skin- your stare tracing from his neck to see his face once more, and when your lids squint to study him,

He opens his eyes-

“Ma’am? Ma’am,” the echo of a calm voice breaks through enough to awaken your bleary eyes, “Ma’am, are you okay?” Drool gathered at the corner of your mouth you swipe with the hem of your sleeve; your eyes are sensitive from how bright it is outside, and it takes a moment for them to adjust once you turn your head gradually in order to remember where you are. The flowing trickles of water, the soreness of your back scratching from the log of a tree, and the soft squeeze of a large hand on your shoulder alarms you enough to realize you fell asleep while reminiscing at the lake.

You refrain from cursing under your breath when nerves shoot through your veins, gathering yourself enough to look at whoever is hovering above you. Stuttering to find words, you weakly accept the strong hand offered to you to help you up. Concern is etched in the shape of brown irises reading your stare while nostalgia fogs your brain. “Do I- do I know you?” Your voice is hardly a murmur, but he timidly steps away, the familiarity of his face bringing a quiet gasp to your parting lips.

“We, uh, we um, ran into each other earlier,”

“Oh no,” shame shudders your shoulders when you press your forehead into your palm to lightly rub your eyes, “God, I’m so sorry-”

“No, no it’s okay! Really, it’s okay. It was an accident-”

“I should have watched where I was going-”

“Well, I should have, too.”

With a creased forehead, your body is still recovering from your unexpected nap, and you’re trying to feign bravery to return your eyes to the stranger whose hair is hidden within a black beanie, yet blonde tufts brush the tips of his ears. Dimples illuminate his rising cheeks from the tiny grin embellishing his expression, and dialogue disappears from your tongue at the noticing of how exquisite he is.

“Kim Namjoon,” his large hand swallows yours as it did minutes ago, but this time in a polite shake of greeting.

“I’m [Y/N],” you nod seeing his grin widen to cause a silent sweep of relief to your system.

“Wait a minute,” your eyelids enlarge from the recognition now embracing your thoughts. Flashbacks from high school smother you immediately when the images of a quiet persona who sauntered the hallways with the intelligence of an Einstein clicks on a lightbulb subconsciously. “I do know you, we-” wetting your lips, you stammer in fear of being wrong, “We went to the same grade school. You- you beat me at the math competition! Wh- what brings you to Gyeongju?”

“College,” his voice is shaky for you to jolt at the realization that you are still shaking his hand- roughly you might add, awkwardly releasing to return your limb to your side. It’s already humiliating enough to stand before him after plummeting into his side when first arriving to this destination, to then making a fool of yourself sleeping in front of him to also awaken to ruin all ounce of potential conversation you could have had. Preparing yourself for the worst, you wince, wishing you could slip under the covers of your bedroom to hide away forever. “What about you? Are you attending University here, too?”

“I- erm, about that-” There is not a way for you to explain, because there isn’t much to say other than your heart belonged to another career path. “I received a job offer here. One that I thought would provide good benefits than my original plan, but it’s not what I expected,” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow igniting a surge in frantic slews of sentences from your mouth, “I mean, I love it. I really do, it’s- it’s what I love to do, but I guess- I want- I want more from it. But I don’t know how to- I-” Warm chuckles leave his lips that halts your rambling in a heartbeat, “I talk way too much, I’m sorry-”

“You’re not talking too much. You’re fine, I promise.” a brief spark settles a reminder of your budding attraction toward him that your chest heats with a dark hue of red; your arms slide to cross over your chest in an attempt at hugging yourself- timorously beaming up at him to search his tender gaze. “You know, if you’re up for it, there’s a restaurant not too far from here that has the best pasta I’ve ever had,” Namjoon’s fingers disappear into the pockets of his jeans- nervously rocking on his heels because after all these years he never thought he would run into anyone he once acquainted with in his younger days, but here you are, standing before him in all your glory. You were someone he admired from afar who treated him as though he was part of the team versus an outcast as others preferred him to be. But you were different. You never saw anyone as below you, and though the pair of you never blossomed into a friendship, you at least treated him with kindness despite the rumors pupils whispered in the foyers. “I already planned on going there today actually-”

“I’d love to!” Your fingertips shut your lips from the excitement you didn’t mean to interrupt him with, “I mean, I uh, I’d- I’d like that very much, thank you,”

It’s strange how the imagination of a world can seem so real, and the awareness of how close he is bringing flutters of butterflies within your stomach while your ears tune in to the scuffling sounds of your footsteps prodding along the route. No matter how hard you contemplate, whatever vision you had at the lake isn’t coming to you, but the consistent feeling that you’re experiencing brings the suspicion that whatever you dreamt is now becoming a reality.

The air is calmed in a manner that reflects a pleasant silence where your focus happens to remain on the cold mush of fibrous moss gathering between your fingers. Eyes are closed momentarily yet the hint of the sun is evident, but the source of your confusion isn’t from the odd wonder of why your hands are gripping the earth, instead, it is for the question of why your back is pressed to the ground as though you have fallen into slumber.

Blinking open to the blue of the sky, you are paused for only a mere moment to discover this time, sparse altocumulus clouds entering your vision enough to ease yourself to sit up. Freeing your digits from what you see to be a deep shade of magenta mingled with numerous hues of green festooning across the land, it is astonishing the beauty your vision is encountering prompting you to whirl your head in every direction to take in the glacier gray of the mountains you observe to be cratering a lapis glow of a lake.

The familiarity of a reminiscent involving a body of water decides to accompany your mind, but the difference between your memory of what you assume regards to reality, is that what you are gazing upon now, is nothing but magical. In wondrous awe, you find yourself standing, taking a slow bare foot forward, just to be halted when the feel of something is settled around your head. Furrowed eyebrows, you lightly tap along what feels to be numerous twigs tangled together with stems of bloomed petals. You raise your other hand to retrieve the item, glance widening at the myriad of dancing colors in the form of flowers embellishing what looks to be what one would call a crown.

Has it been there all along?

An inkling to turn around urges you to do so, lips parted in a gasp though not one sound escapes. He stands before you, the man from a preceding ponder, dressed in white, angelically beaming from head to toe, imitating the enchanting resonation of the atmosphere, causing you to long for whatever bliss he has within his touch. Did he give this to you?

Tenderly, he reaches to place his fingertips beneath the flower crown where your heart leaps at the faint brush of his skin. Lifting it ever so steadily, he returns to set the emblem where it belongs, to the empress of his heart, of his universe, completing you in all entirety. Your eyes flicker between his in suppressed doubt; is this real? You are so enveloped in the amiability of his gape, your palms extend to fold along his shoulders, leading his hand to rest at the side of your neck. He is reading your soul as much as you are trying to decipher his, but there is a connection that no other will ever be able to gain from you as much as him.

The nearness of him is what you are now in concentration of, leaning closer, waiting for what you are hoping for-

Namjoon’s long frame slides upon the plaid picnic blanket, abdomen first, while he folds his arms to where he rests his cheek, “I’m feeling the weight of that essay from last night,”

“And, you still turned it in late,” you tease, munching on a snack while he throws a playful side glance. It’s been a month since the reuniting, and the friendship has become exactly what you have been needing. Unfortunately, finances have still been a heavy burden, but at least you have found an ally in Gyeongju who is just as excited to see you as you are him.

“I mean I was pretty distracted,”

Scoffing, you smack his shoulder lightly with the back of your hand, “That video of that kitten was so cute, and you know it,”

“I never said it wasn’t cute,” the way his lips break into the widest smile, his eyes squinting in the way they do that then reveals his dimples; as much as you’d like to deny the way your heart feels a sense of longing, you mask it quite effortlessly.

“You literally giggled so much, I thought you were going to pee,” breathy laughter escapes him prompting him to bury his head into his arms, your gaze never leaving his shaking shoulders. “Well, it’s true!” Moments such as these bring a joy you are thankful exists, but little does Namjoon know, or so you assume, that once you step into your apartment to be reminded of how little you have moneywise, the depression seeps in. It is hard enough to work every day as hard as you do, just to watch your paycheck subtract away right before your eyes with each bill. It is something you haven’t necessarily opened about, because you just don’t know how. And, the last thing you need is for someone to offer help that you know they may not have.

“That’s only happened one time!” He exclaims, him shifting to lean more on his side so he can peer up at you. This area particularly is further within the park where there are not as many trees, which gives enough space to lay out a blanket and view the scenery. Sunshine brightens the atmosphere as well as warming your skin, and though you’re continuing to cackle with Namjoon, you slide until you are upon your back, using your arm to shade some of the sunlight. One perk regarding the park is it’s free, which is why you always ask to come here when hanging out, and you refuse to let Namjoon pay a dime for anything, not even a candy bar.

The nearness of his body does not heighten your senses until you turn to look at him, and that’s when you melt wishing nothing more than to kiss him. Which explains the dreams you’ve been having lately. Laughter has ceased for the time being, instead the conversation moves into a different subject, one you hoped wouldn’t happen, but considering your avoidance of going to many places, and the embarrassment of Namjoon seeing the emptiness of your kitchen one too many times, the paranoia of him catching on to why you have been slightly more stressed than usual may enter his suspicions.

“Have you been okay?” By the tone of his voice, you can tell right away he is aware of something. But, how can you tell him you are fine, when you are nowhere near one hundred percent. You definitely feel that way when with him, because he makes you forget about the reality at home, but gives you a time to escape, a time to embrace the joy he provides you every chance he gets. Should you tell him the truth? “[Y/N], I never mentioned this before just because I figured it was just coincidence, but when was the last time you’ve gotten groceries? Like, actual groceries,”

“Ramen is groceries,”

“I-” Namjoon pauses, “What I mean is, more than just ramen noodle cups and stale chips,”

“Maybe that’s how I like my chips. Corny and stale,”

“That sounds-”

“Listen,” you lift an index finger, “if vegetables and fruits would last longer than a week, I totally wouldn’t feel like I’m wasting money.”

“You know if you need anything, I’m here for you,” his words nearly bring you to tears, leading you to turn your head in the opposite direction to avoid his concerned expression. He knows you are making excuses at this point and of course, he is not entirely sure of why, but he may be able to guess correctly if he tried.

“I don’t need anything, I promise I’m fine,” your reply is soft, but loud enough for him to hear. Though you can’t see it, Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow, him picking at his fingertips while in deep concentration. He is learning that you, stubbornly, are most definitely not going to let him help in any way, but unbeknownst to you, is that he will stop at nothing to make sure you are okay no matter what.

“Look at me,” your heart skips a beat immediately when you slowly return to where he is within your glimpse, his thumb reaching to brush your bottom lip where he inches much closer than you anticipated. All you know, is that if he reads every word that your mind is screaming, your heart may burst out of your chest. Yearning for his kiss, he is close enough to where his breath sweeps your chin, “[Y/N], really, if there is anything at all that you absolutely need, please know I will do anything for you,”

Your fingers bundle into the collar of his shirt absentmindedly, letting his forehead press upon yours before you dare to close the gap you are so anxiously wanting to do. His thumb now strokes your cheek, tickling your skin to the point you feel breathless.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper, a hushed tear dropping onto your cheek before he swipes it away.

“I just want you to be okay,”

“I am,” you try your best to sound reassuring, “Joon, I promise you I am,”

“Okay,” he whispers, and even then, you have no idea the best that is yet to come.

Sleeping cherry blossoms encircle you save for the entrance of a tunnel gleaming piercingly bright in the distance that seems so close yet so far out of reach. The iridescent shades of the petals glitter in preparation for what is to come, but your focus solely remains on the escape ahead into a world you have always dreamed of. Or is this the world you have always dreamed of? Scents of the florets waft past your nose in a way to ease you, and the lingering thought of the man clothed in white shadows the crevices of your conscious. Just the mere reminisce of him prompts his appearance and as he stands behind you in all his glory, he knows the desire looming beneath your chest for the magic you crave.

His arms reach to link around you, chin nestling on your shoulder; there is no fear for he is the only being welcome in your world of serenity. Your hands smooth upon his folded arms that remain resting against your abdomen, and forever seems to be in the forefront of your mind. Spinning within his embrace, a subtle smirk graces his mouth while your hands glide to his chest, and finally after many dreams of pining, he leans in to close the gap- snatching your lips as softly as you have imagined causing the closed petals all around the pair of you to bloom endlessly, flourishing every ounce of space the two of you may have had a fraction before. The power is within his kiss, summoning the blossoms to awaken as they are meant to. The same as he is meant to be with you.

“I miss you, too, Mom,” you smile into the phone, sifting through the mail you just checked, eyebrows furrowing when you feel as though something is missing. “Yeah- yeah, I have, I mean, yes mom, I may have a boyfriend,” you giggle, shaking your head at your persistent mother who has been dying to catch up with you since you moved. “I think- yeah, I think he may be who I’ve been waiting for,” when a knock at the door alerts you, you quickly bid your mom a farewell with the promise of calling her back tomorrow before you start work again.

Staring at the pile of mail, you wonder why the utility bill has not been sent. It is around the time that it should have arrived meaning you may need to take a short trip to the leasing office if Namjoon doesn’t mind. Giddily, you skip to look through the peephole to see him, standing tall with his slim fingers slipped into his pockets. Unlocking the door, you run a swift hand through your hair in an attempt to neaten the strands before opening the entrance. “Hey!” You breathe, gesturing for him to come in, and when the door closes, you leap into his embrace before smiling into a sweet kiss.

“Are you ready for today? The weather is beautiful out,”

“Beyond ready,” you kiss him again. The anticipation to explore another location involving nature is what you enjoy especially with someone who equally enjoys it as much as you. “But I must make a quick trip to the leasing office if that’s okay? I have Netflix if you want to chill for a bit- it shouldn’t take too long.”

Namjoon chuckles, leaning in to press a slow kiss to your lips, “Everything okay?”

“Mm yeah,” you reply in a daze, “I just haven’t received my utility bill yet and I’m concerned. Can you um, can you do that again? I may need the extra umph,”

Breathy laughter is interrupted when he kisses you again, and it takes everything in you to pull away, “Okay, I feel better now,”

“Good. Whatever it takes,”

As much as you would love to not have to pay any bills, you saunter across the road to where the leasing office lives, encompassed by sparse trees and a small swimming pool off to the side. You are happy to see Jung Hoseok, leaned on his desk, spectacles slid down his nose, and gaze distracted by whatever he is reading on the computer screen.

“Good morning,” you greet, Hoseok immediately looks to see who has walked in, gesturing with a smile toward a seat in front of his desk.

“How can I help you today?”

“Yes, um, I just went through my mail today and I realized I hadn’t received the utility bill for this month, so I wanted to check to make sure I didn’t miss anything,”

“Ah, yes, let me pull up your account here,” his fingers fly over the keyboard, the clicking noise being the only sound filling the space. “Hm, looks like it’s already been paid for.”

“Excuse me?” Confusion is evident within your voice as well as plastered upon your entire expression. “When did I? I paid it?”

“Mhm, as well as your rent for the rest of the year among all of your other bills. There’s enough money on your account to just automatically draft-”

“But I didn’t-”

“Well it says it right here,” he pokes the screen once.

“Are you able to see when the money was put in? I have no idea how-” The realization hits you suddenly prompting a small gasp.

“Er, is everything okay, Ms. [Y/N]?”

“Yeah,” you say quite breathlessly, gradually standing to your feet, the world spinning faster than you could have prepared for.

“I mean, I can ask my coworker, Taehyung if he knows anything. I got back from vacation today, so I may not have the answer for you-”

“No, no it’s okay. I- I think I know who is responsible. Thank you so much, Hoseok.”

“Anytime, dear!”

Being slightly dizzy while running is an interesting combo, but you make it to your apartment without tripping over your own two feet and you stand before the door, your chest heaving. The dreams you have been having- it all makes sense now. You wanted nothing more than a reason, or a miracle, to feel as if you were home, or where you belonged, and finally, it was given to you in the most unexpected way. When you came to Gyeongju, you had no idea that Namjoon would show up in your life and turn it into the most beautiful adventure you have ever had. You were willing to suffer through the bills if it meant being close to him, and how he figured out your hardship, you are uncertain- you always avoided the subject when it came to hardly having any money. Slowly stepping into your apartment, you click the door closed, Namjoon’s focus turning from the tv to you as he rises to his feet. You are speechless as you gaze at the man of your dreams. When he said he would do anything for you, you never imagined this.

“Whatever it takes?” You croak, hardly sure even now what to say. Namjoon will do anything to make you happy, and that is how you knew after getting to know him the past few months that you were wholeheartedly in love with him. You will spend the rest of your life trying to thank him no matter the circumstances, and as soon as his frame entangles with yours, he whispers,

“Whatever it takes.”

#btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #btswriterscollective #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #namjoon fluff #namjoon soft #namjoon fic #namjoon one shot #namjoon aesthetic #4k +

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starlightsearches · 5 years ago

Text

Office Romance: Ch. 14 Undercover

General Hux and Kylo Ren have found themselves competing for the affection of a lieutenant aboard the Finalizer.

Series Warnings: Language, some violence, near-death experiences.

Masterlist

AN: Oof, some big warnings for this one, specifically sexual assault! The reader goes undercover and someone makes advances on her, so please read with caution. She also kills a man, but that’s not described.

The music was loud in your ears, the bass thumping through your entire body as you danced, performing the steps with a smile on your face, showing off for the crowd below. It was too hot, too noisy, but you had to look like you were enjoying yourself; the success of the mission depended on everything going smoothly. Besides, you should be grateful. You had fought to be here.

The first fight had been the most difficult. Convincing Allecull, the chief intelligence officer and your sworn enemy, that you deserved a spot on the ground team had almost been impossible, especially with both the general and Ren taking his side.

“You do realize that this man tried to have you killed?” Allecull had asked, like you were some kind of idiot. You had contained your anger; you knew that reacting in rage would not help your case. You had to seem calm, in control, or there was no way they’d let you go with them. It was terribly unfair, you certainly deserved to be angry.

“Yes, Major, I realize that. I’d like to return the favor.” Eventually, the ground team leader, Kane Cheepres, had convinced the others that you deserved a spot on the team, but not without three conditions. Number one: you would not engage the target; number two: you would stay under surveillance the entire time; and number three: you would leave at the first sign of trouble.

A new song started, and you forced yourself to recall the steps you had drilled into your head in the time before the mission, the movement relatively easy compared to what you were used to, even though it was a bit more lewd. You were playing the role of one of the clubs many dancers, who were spread around the area on individual, elevated stages.

The stylist had told you that she wanted you to look fun, but what she had apparently meant was loud. You couldn’t help but feel exposed in the spangled, iridescent outfit: a pair of shorts for mobility and a crop top that exposed part of your midriff when you moved. It was not skin tight, at least, and she had opted for a casual pair of tennis shoes instead of heels like most of the other girls were wearing—better for running, in case you had to make a quick getaway. However, the wig she had put on you seemed to be made for nothing but inconvenience. It was long, grazing your tailbone when you moved, violet in color, and heavy. The whole ensemble made you feel like some kind of deranged butterfly, but it served its purpose; despite the intensity of your outfit, you still blended in rather well.

“No sign of the target,” you said quietly, knowing that the stealth comm placed near your mouth would pick up the sound, even over the thundering of the music. Your eyes scanned the space below you, searching for the man who had paid to see you dead. Antibree Soar.

According to Ren, Antibree was heir to Soar Weapons Manufacturing and the man who had ordered the hit. He had squandered his newfound fortune not long after his father’s death and targeted you, hoping that taking out a First Order officer would convince the Resistance and the Republic to see him as an ally, increasing his profits.

“Can anyone tell me why there’s a Resistance pilot here?” You heard the voice through the comms, belonging to Renaia Shadhin. She was the undercover operative who had been tasked with the actual elimination of Antibree, and was on the dance floor now, waiting for a sign of him. You searched for the pilot she was talking about, finding a familiar face near one of the lounge on your right. Poe Dameron. You had read his file. He was sitting in a chair, facing the crowd, a small smirk on his face, looking carefree and confident.

“I think I see him, too,” you responded, “on my right, in the lounge?”

“Black hair, brooding eyes, ruggedly handsome?” she asked in confirmation, and you couldn’t stifle your giggle quickly enough. You liked Renaia. She never lost her sense of humor, even in serious situations. How she could work with Allecull on a regular basis, you would never understand. As if on queue, another voice sounded off in your ear.

“Stay focused. You can fawn over Dameron later,” Allecull said. He was with the observation team in the transport that had taken you to Coruscant, along with the general, and Ren—who had insisted on coming—plus a few others, monitoring the holocam feeds in the club.

“I’ll keep my eye on Dameron. You two, work on locating the target,” Kane commanded, also undercover, moving from his place against the wall closer to the bar. You tried not to think about one of the many cam feeds trained on you as you performed, transmitting the image back to the observation team, and the ever-critical Allecull. Now was not the time to worry about your reputation.

“Hey doll!” A new voice called to you from below as the song ended, and you crouched down to speak to him. The manager of the club, a rat-faced man with a cheap hair piece, Braale, was down there, waving you off the stage. You hopped down carefully and bounced a little from foot to foot, trying to stretch out your legs.

“Yeah, boss?” you asked. You were playing peppy—eager-to-please—and it was obviously working. He giggled at the title, nudging the girl next to him, who tried to move out of his reach.

“Boss, huh? I like that. Hey, Marielle, remind me to tell the other girls to start calling me boss from now on!” The dancer nodded half-heartedly, rolling her eyes and giving you a dirty look.

“Marielle’s gonna be taking over for you here, I want you to go work the crowd. You’ve got quite a few fans already. On your first night, too!” he winked, pushing Marielle to the stage.

“You got it, boss,” you said brightly, walking past him and onto the churning dance floor. The crowd was sweaty and dense as you moved through it, bodies pressing up against you from every angle, some contact accidental and some decidedly not. You dodged the grabbing hands lithely, reminding yourself once again that you had wanted to be here. That you still wanted to be here.

“Make sure you stay visible, General,” Allecull ordered over the comm, and you rolled your eyes. Where did he think you were going to go?

You found your way to the edge of the room, to one of the less populated bars, and asked the bartender for a water, hoping to cool yourself off a little. You had a decent view of the space when you turned back to the crowd—not as good as the one from the stage—but it would suffice. The club was less a room and more a giant, indoor arena—the dance floor impossibly huge and impossibly packed with the young, the rich, and the egotistical. Corsucant’s finest.

“I’ve got eyes on the target,” you heard Kane say, his urgency interrupting your thoughts, “on your left, Renaia. Lieutenant General, he’s heading for you.” You found him on the edge of the crowd, recognized him almost immediately from the photos. He looked young—younger than you—with chubby, smiling cheeks and a crop of fluffy blonde hair, scanning the crowd with eager eyes. He saw you looking, and looked back, moving to you with enthusiastic determination. Fuck.

“Get out of there, Lieutenant.” Hux’s voice came in over the comms channel.

“I can’t, he’s already seen me. If I run it will only be more suspicious.” You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. You were in disguise—he probably didn’t recognize you—and you could use that to your advantage, but you had to make a plan now before everything went to shit.

“I’m going to turn off my mic,” you said quickly, “you’ll still have sound, but if I leave it on he might be able to hear you if he . . . if he gets too close.” Sounds of dissent poured into your ear, loud and overlapping, but you blocked them out, shutting off the speaker before you could second-guess yourself.

Turning back to the bar, you prepared for impact, hoping to look more at ease than you were. You felt his presence as soon as he arrived, and then there was a hand at your waist, demanding, insistent, pushing you playfully into the bar. A pair of lips at your ear.

“Hello there,” he whispered, and you thought you might gag. Your instincts told you to whip around, ready to fight, to shove, to scream, to get this man away from you. But you were frozen. It was him; the man who had hoped to see you dead for his own gain. Antibree Soar.

You turned slowly, and he leaned against the bar, trapping you in his arms as you faced him. You glanced down, trying to look appropriately flirtatious, and then back up through your eyelashes. It had the desired effect.

“What’s your name?” He whispered, placing a hand at your hip, holding you to the bar forcefully. It would probably bruise.

“Kaytari,” the name rolled off your tongue so easily; despite the pounding of your heart, you were slipping into your disguise like a pool of water.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” His breath was thick with the scent of alcohol, and the fog of it clouded your nose, but you smiled at him, biting your lip. It was easy to pretend when you thought about killing him. About getting him alone.

“I saw you dancing earlier,” he said, his other hand having found a place on the back of your thigh, tracing your bare skin with a light touch, and you shivered involuntarily. You tried not to think about the cams, the men on the ship who were watching these events unfold, but it was difficult to clear your mind in a moment like this one when so much had gone wrong already.

“You’re very talented.” His whole body was against yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe, the pressure toxic, the feeling of him worming its way into your skin. Casually, you placed your hands behind you, jumping up onto the bar, trying to escape the poison of his touch.

“Thank you,” you said, and he forced his way between your legs, the suggestive contact making your stomach roll. You needed to end this, as soon as possible. “You know, dancing isn’t my only talent.”

“Oh, really? Tell me more.” You didn’t let yourself think about it before you leaned in and kissed him.

“I’ll give her one thing,” Allecull said, throwing his comm down in frustration, “she’s a damn good actress.” The transport was rife with tension as the events unfolded, all eyes trained on the video feed of you and Antibree. Hux could feel the embarrassment of the other observation team members, and a few of the men turned away from the projection, uncomfortable watching such a heated moment between a superior officer and potential murderer. General Hux swallowed hard, but he wouldn’t let himself look away. You were sitting on the bar, Antibree between your legs, your hands on the back of his neck, his hands all over you. His lips trailed from yours, down your jaw and to your neck, and you arched into his touch, pulling yourself even closer, a low moan escaping your lips like a wet dream from hell.

“Can’t you shut off the audio?” someone yelled to Allecull, and Hux put his hand out to stop him.

“If we turn off the comm, we lose all contact with the lieutenant. Leave it as is.” A sick anger wriggled into Hux’s mind, feelings of betrayal that he didn’t deserve but couldn’t stop pricking him like knives as he heard you whimper over the comm, and then say breathlessly, “if only there was somewhere we could go.”

“Renaia, follow her,” Allecull ordered, watching closely as you slid from the bar, hand in hand with Soar. He pulled you around the edge of the club, towards a dark corner, and an exit guarded by two bouncers. Hux had seen layouts of the building; he knew what happened behind those doors.

“They won’t let me back there on my own, sir,” Renaia responded anxiously, “I’ll keep watch outside.” With a twisting in his gut, Hux watched you disappear from view, out of reach of the holocams and into the hallway, and the crackle of your comm turned to an oppressive silence. Your mic had cut out.

Ren had been silent up until this point, watchful, leaning against the wall with barely-controlled rage, but he saw no use in trying to rein in his impulses now. The general argued with Allecull, trying to formulate some kind of plan to get the audio back online, or get you away from Antibree before he found out who you really were. Hux could argue all he wanted; Ren wasn’t going to sit around and wait.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Hux interrupted Allecull mid-sentence, addressing Ren, but he ignored him, heading to the exit of the ship, saber in hand. The exit led to an alleyway behind the club—disgusting and probably foul-smelling, Ren was grateful for his mask—but private as well. Despite the horde of people inside, the area behind the club was deserted. Ren didn’t know where he was going, but he walked on anyways, determined to find a path that led to you.

“Stop!” Hux ran out of the transport, not bothering to avoid the ancient puddles of water and shit and who-knew-what-else that littered the way. Ever the annoyance, the general ran in front of Ren, trying to block the exit. Ren didn’t bother to pause, flinging Hux into a wall and continuing out of the darkness of the alley. His rage was all-consuming; it had to be, if he let himself feel anything else, he’d be paralyzed.

“If you go in there, she’ll die.” Hux’s statement echoed down the alley. Ren hesitated.

“So we should wait around here for her to die, instead?” Ren knew he had to save his energy if he was going to get you out of there alive, but the temptation to end Hux’s miserable life right then was incredibly captivating.

“Don’t pretend you’re the only one concerned for her safety, Ren,” the general stood from the ground and joined him at the mouth of the alley, just deep enough in the shadows that they would not be seen if someone passed by. “You need to trust her.”

“Like you trust her, General?” The accusation made Ren livid, “with all of your spying? Please. Tell me, what has FN-2187 found out for you?”

“I trust the Lieutenant implicitly, Ren. It’s you I don’t trust.”

“We can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“If you walk in there, you’ll cause mass panic. There’s at least one Resistance operative inside, what would stop him from opening fire the second he sees you?” Ren hated that Hux was making sense, but he didn’t plan on listening. He needed to see you, alive. Now.

“I’m going in there; you won’t convince me otherwise. She needs my help.” He began walking forward again, and this time the general did not try to stop him.

“I don’t think you really believe that, Ren. You won’t admit it, but your motives are selfish,” Hux turned to go back to the ship, but was frozen in place when Ren seized control.

“Selfish?” The air in the alley turned cold, and Ren’s anger was like ice in his veins. He walked to the general, standing between him and the ship before letting go.

“Yes, selfish. You don’t really think she needs you. You want to save her so she’ll owe you something. It’s disgusting.” The low light of the alley turned red, and the air filled with the buzzing sound of Ren’s saber. Unconsciously, General Hux backed into the wall.

“Take it back,” Ren couldn’t speak above a whisper, his head reeling from the oppressive wrath threatening to take over, and, at least for a moment, the general seemed truly frightened.

“Go ahead, Ren. It won’t stop me from being right about you.” Hux’s voice was even but Ren’s hand shook with the force of his grip on the hilt of his saber, and for a moment, he truly believed that he would kill him.

A small cough echoed down the alley, and Ren and Hux both turned to see Mitaka at the mouth of the ship.

“Excuse me sirs, but,” he paused, and Ren reluctantly holstered his weapon, “the lieutenant general is back online. The target has been eliminated.”

Back on the ship, Hux tried to shake the fear that lingered from his encounter with Ren as he watched your image on the projection in front of him. It had been worth it, he thought, to protect you from Ren’s rash behavior, but his hands were shaking, and he held on tightly to the control panel in front of him so that no one would notice. On the holoprojector he could see the image of you wandering the dance floor, waiting for Renaia to meet up with you before leaving the godforsaken club once and for all.

“Sir,” one of the men in the transport said, and Hux looked up to see one of the ensigns gesture to a different image, “I’ve got eyes on the Resistance pilot, he’s moving. It looks like he’s headed in the same direction as the Lieutenant General.” Hux searched the scene and located the pilot, who was closing in on you from behind. He was close, much too close for comfort. How had they missed him before?

“Dameron is approaching, General. Get clear of him,” Allecull told you over the comm, and you tried to move deeper into the crowd, but your path was blocked and suddenly he reached out, grabbing you by the shoulder.

“Hey,” the pilot’s voice was loud and slurring, and he leaned in so that you could hear him over the music, “don’t I know you from somewhere?” You ducked your face towards his ear, making sure he couldn’t get a good look at you. Hux was sure that the Resistance would have your photo by now, it had been circulated pretty widely after the HoloNet caught hold of the story of your attempted assassination. But would the pilot recognize you? And what would he do if he did? You were so close to being out of harm's way and now this man could ruin it all.

“I don’t think so,” you yelled back, “I’m new here, this is my first day.”

“Oh, you’re a dancer? No shit, huh? I swear to god I know your face from somewhere . . . “ he trailed off, but his grip did not loosen. He was swaying a little where he stood; still, Hux had a sneaking suspicion that the pilot was only acting inebriated, and a rising panic crept up his shoulder blades.

“Get out of there now, General.” Allecull commanded you over the speaker, and you panicked, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp. Hux was desperate to see you do something, anything, to get away, to cause some kind of scene and escape to safety, but you stood your ground, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath.

“You don’t know me.” The others didn’t notice the modification of your demeanor, but Hux certainly did. Your tone of voice had changed completely; you were no longer yelling, but speaking low and quiet, and you raised your other hand up to his face with a small wave, a familiar gesture. Almost immediately, Dameron let go of you, his face going slack. He blinked a few times—like someone had flashed a bright light in his eyes—and then found your face again, but there was no recognition in his expression. Hux watched the scene unfold, his anxieties from earlier compounding into something dense and heavy in the pit of his stomach. Holy shit.

“He’s completely intoxicated,” somebody in the transport yelled with a high-pitched laugh, and then another voice rose up, saying “stars, I can’t believe that worked.”

“I’m sorry, do I know y-” Dameron said, before he was cut off by Renaia, who ran up behind you, grabbing you around the waist with a squeal.

“There you are!” she yelled, remarkably good at acting less-than-sober, “It’s our song, girl, let’s go!” You followed her into the crowd, turning back to Dameron with an apologetic shrug, but he didn’t seem to notice you leaving. He was still dazed, standing in the middle of the dance floor for a moment, looking around like he had just forgotten something important, but couldn’t remember what it was.

“On our way back to base,” you said over the comms, and the men in the transport let out a collective sigh of relief. Hux scanned the room, trying to see if anyone had noticed anything odd about your escape from Dameron, but they all seemed to accept that he had been drunk. It didn’t make any sense. Last he had heard, the force was closed off to you, except in rare instances. Had you and Ren been hiding your true progress from him? Hux didn’t know everything there was to know about the force, but he knew that a mind-trick like that would be difficult without a considerable amount of training.

You and Renaia entered the transport, and a few of the men cheered, congratulating the both of you on the success of the mission. You accepted the praise graciously, but your expression showed some inner turmoil. You broke free of the group as the transport prepared for lift off.

“I need to speak with you, General” you said quietly, brushing past him casually before walking into the storage area of the transport. Ren followed closely behind as you and Hux entered the little room; you must have signaled to him silently. The space was cramped, but private, and you slid to the floor, finding a seat among the boxes and holding your head in your hands.

“What happened?” Hux asked.

“You saw what happened.” You sounded far away, dazed, and it terrified him. He didn’t understand.

“You used the force,” Ren said. Hux had already known, but hearing it said out loud was jarring. Ren kneeled in front of you on the floor of the storage room, and something moved between the two of you that Hux could not identify.

“How did you do it?” Ren asked urgently; he seemed just as confused as Hux did, maybe even more so.

“I don’t know,” your voice broke on the last word, “I knew I had to try something. I can’t believe it worked.”

“So you feel it, then? The force?” Ren asked again, and you nodded into your hands before looking up to Hux.

“I never been able to use it before, not consciously. We’ve been practicing some more simple things, like sensing emotions, but nothing has really worked . . . until now.”

“Then what changed?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“I’m not sure, but,” you paused, “I think that my father might have something to do with it. There’s something you need to know about Allegiant General Pryde.”

Tags: @acunningstargazer, @itsa-pseudonym, @ddaeing, @dark-night-sky-99, @i-jus-wanna-writehappy, @fresa-luna, @leiadelreyy

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux fanfiction #kylo ren fanfic #star wars fanfic #office romance #my writing

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years ago

Text

The Crucible (part eight)

[Carrie AU; UK Tour]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Word count: 10,126

TW: None, for once lol

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

-Dreamer In Disguise-

“Tell us about the night of May 28th. Of the events leading up to the incident.”

Katherine grit her teeth tightly, then exhaled a sharp breath through her nose, releasing her mounting anger. Her eyes were stinging, like fire ants were infested in the sockets and wouldn’t come out no matter how hard she scratched. Her face was still blotchy and washed out from crying, but she held herself as confidently as always, not willing to give into the crime Mulaney so desperately wanted her to be a part of.

“It was meant to be a celebration.” Katherine said strongly. Her voice held no evidence that she had been crying just a few minutes ago. “It was supposed to be the biggest night of our high school lives. The ending of one chapter and the beginning of the next. If only--” Her words caught for a moment, but she would not break again. “If only--”

“If only what?” Mulaney urged.

“If only I hadn’t told Anna to go to prom with Joan!” Katherine exploded, slamming her palms on the table and making even Madeline jump and Mulaney look at her more warily. It pleased her, and she eased back down, steadying her sharpening breath. “Then maybe nobody would have died. But just because I should have done that, doesn’t mean I regret having her go.”

Mulaney’s eyes glinted and he leaned in, hungry for a confession.

“Anna sent me a picture.” Katherine said. She took out her phone and slid it over the tabletop. The screen showed an image of Anna and Joan, grinning brightly at the camera with two other kids, George Boleyn, Anne’s younger brother, and his girlfriend, Jane Parker. “Look at how happy she is… I’ve never seen her smile like that before. So carefree and peaceful…”

She put her phone back into her pocket and shook her head. She blew out a sigh from her nose.

“That’s why I don’t wish I didn’t have Anna ask her.” She said. “She was happy for the first time in her life. Truly happy. And who am I to take that away from her?”

Her eyes began to burn again. She fingered her shredded tissue, a whirlwind of emotions storming inside her skull. She wanted to release it on this skeptical detective before her and show him that she was innocent.

“I hope it was good for her. That prom. Before things went to hell.”

------

It was like a dream. An actual perfect dream.

The prom glimmered in droplets of amber and gold, sapphire and jade, obsidian and pearl. Fragments of gods and goddesses and mythical creatures prowled across the walls in detailed murals, capturing ancient battles in their canvases forever.

The gym had been morphed into a huge, vaulted space that hummed with activity. Intricately carved Greek pillars and spires and arches dotted the space, and green and silver drapes of silk dipped from the ceiling. White fairy lights were lit up everywhere, casting soft glows across various tapestries and weavings decorating the walls and architecture. Miniature recreations of temples acted as buffets for the hundreds of partygoers, bearing chips and cookies and cakes and other treats. There was even a large bowl-like piece that was shaped like the Great Theater of Epidaurus, holding salad condiments around the wide sides and lettuce in the middle. A chocolate fountain burbled on a nearby table, the most modern-looking piece of decor in there.

The food temples encircled a giant white fake-marble tree that the origins of were unknown to mostly everyone. The trunk was carved with intricate designs that looked like they had taken hours to scratch away, and the lush shrubbery it bore was braided with silver lights, making the entire decoration a beacon of sterling radiance. Transparent ice blue globes hung from the many reaching branches, lit up with fake candles inside of their hallowed out interior. They glowed like captured moons within the party.

The stage was set up to look like the Parthenon, with white pillars along the apron and wings, coiled by ivy and flowers. Golden and iridescent fabric braided the top, glistening in the fairy lights. A hired band was set up at the center, along with the DJ booth, which played most of the music. Behind them were the thrones for prom king and queen, all shiny and poised, ready for their royals.

Music catapulted around the high, canvas-covered walls like thread winding around and around the assembled students. The sound seemed to swallow Joan up, reverberating in her bones. Partygoers whirled together on the dance floor, the colors of their suits and dresses sparkling in bright tornadoes. They stomped and jumped and clapped in time to the beat of the music, a kaleidoscope of rainbow rhythm.

However, the highlight of the ball were the sculptures. There were at least ten different elaborate carvings sparkling importantly in the party space. Twisting spirals, weaving tendrils, and delicate beads mingled with glorious bells and vast shipwrecks, towering trees and clusters of griffon feathers. Joan wanted to run her hands over all of their smooth, bubbly surfaces.

“Anna.” Joan squeezed Anna’s arm tightly. “Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna--”

“Yeah?” Anna looked down at her.

“Look.” Joan pointed to the sculpture garden with her free hand.

“Wanna go look at them?”

Joan nodded vigorously. Anna chuckled. They both began to walk over, and Joan nearly dragged Anna when she leapt forward to look at the closest sculpture, a beautiful, branching ice tree with fat orbs of sugary fruit.

“It’s so pretty…” Joan murmured, her eyes sparkling.

“No wonder it’s so cold in here,” Anna observed. “They have to keep these from melting. Damn, this must have taken forever.”

“Yeah…” Joan nodded slowly, like she was taking in the secrets of the universe. “Ooh, look at that one!”

The two of them went over to a sculpture of roaring waves with captured pieces of poetry within their depths. Joan ogled at the ice with great interest, taking the time to read every piece of paper inside. Anna patiently let her, smiling at her look of awestruck wonderment. She was glad she was distracted so she didn’t notice all the stares they were getting.

But Joan did. She had picked up on it from the moment they stepped inside. It seemed like everyone in the entire gym was staring at her like she was an alien from outer space. She did her best to ignore all of them, but she could feel their eyes burning holes into her skin.

She’s never felt so exposed before, not even in the showers last Friday.

“Why, Anna von Cleves!”

A voice cut through the music and talking and laughter rebounding throughout the gym. Joan spun around and saw two people approaching them- a brunette boy with amber eyes, wearing a black tux, a silvery grey undershirt peeking out around the collar, and a blood red rose boutonniere, and a girl she didn’t recognize. She was taller than her date and had curled dirty blonde hair and grey-green eyes. Her dress was long and flowing, ebony black like the boy’s but dappled with silver specks like stars. The straps were thin and the bodice was gathered and fitted snugly against her bust.

“George!” Anna embraced the boy tightly in one of those “man hugs” men always seem to do, rapping his back so hard it sounded a little painful.

“You look good enough to eat, honey!” George whistled, looking Anna up and down.

“Some would say I am delicious.” Anna said.

“Okay, if you two knew how many people thought you were dating, you wouldn’t be joking about it.” The girl piped up, looking amused.

“Tell Anna to stop looking so goddamn queer!” George chortled.

“You know I always gotta look a little lesbo.” Anna said.

Then, George raised his fists and Joan flinched back a little. She flexed her powers, prepared to save Anna, but then Anna raised her fists, too, and began throwing playful jabs and poked at George’s stomach and chest. George did the same, and they began circling each other like two tuxedo-clad cats standing off against each other for a dead mouse. Joan realized that it was a game of sorts.

“Don’t let it bother you,” The girl said to Joan. “If they kill each other, I’ll dance with you.”

Joan couldn’t smother the smile that came to her lips. She looked down shyly for a moment, then lifted her head again to watch George’s and Anna’s sparring match. Anna tagged George twice, then got jabbed in the waist. They kept grunting and gobbling playful threats to each other.

“They’re too silly to kill,” Joan observed, tilting her head at them. “Like dinosaurs.”

The girl laughed and smiled, and Joan felt something warm flood through her.

Was this what delight felt like?

“Joan,” Anna said. She and George had stopped fighting and she now had an arm around his shoulders. “This is my best buddy, George Boleyn! And this is his girlfriend, Jane Parker. She goes to Chamberlain.”

She didn’t go to Kingston. So maybe that’s why she was being so friendly.

Joan liked it.

“George, Jane, this is Joan.” Anna continued.

“Joan, hi,” Jane smiled down at the girl.

“Joan!” George exclaimed. “Oh shit. Hey, can I just personally apologize for all my sister’s bullshit? I wish I could say she isn’t always like that, but…” He trailed off with a dry laugh.

“Wait…” Joan began to put the pieces together. “George Boleyn… You’re Anne’s brother?”

George laughed. “Yup. The youngest of the bunch. We have an older sister in college named Mary. She turned out pretty okay.”

“...I’m sorry.”

George burst out into even louder laughter. He shook Anna’s side, wiping a tear from his eyes.

“Oh, Anna, I love this girl!” He said.

Joan blushed dark red, ducking her head. Anna grinned at her.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” She said.

There was a light touch on Joan’s shoulder, warm and soft, easy for her to shrug off if she wanted. She turned her head to see that it was Jane’s hand.

“I love your dress,” Jane said. “Where did you get it?”

“I made it.” Joan told her.

“Made it?” Jane gaped, looking the length of the sparkling silk gown up and down. “No shit!”

Joan blinked a few times, then echoed, “No shit.”

Jane laughed. Anna grinned even more. Joan felt like a sinful little rebel.

“You really made that?” George asked.

“Oh, now who’s queer?” Anna said, earning her a smack on the arm.

“I did.” Joan answered George. “I like to sew.”

“You have got to teach me sometime!” Anna said. “I tried before but it didn’t turn out so well. A sweater somehow became a snake warmer.”

They all laughed. Joan felt glee bubbling up inside of her the longer and longer she talked to Anna and her friends. It was so nice to be a part of conversations and share her talents with other people.

“Yeah, of course,” Joan said to Anna.

“Hey, ladies,” Said a heavily sneering voice. “And Anne’s brother.”

Maggie, Maria, and a boy came gliding over. Maggie was wearing a pure white toga with gold lace to fit the Greek theme, while the boy, tall and tired-looking, was in a maroon tux. Maria wore a bright tangerine orange dress that had no sleeves and was loaded with fake jewels to make her gown sparkle.

“Hello,” Anna said. There was a sort of warning in her voice, like she was daring the three of them to try something and see what happened.

“Joan!” Maggie exclaimed in a very forced friendly voice. “Wow. You look so...different!”

Joan struggled not to squirm. She didn’t like the way Maggie was looking at her, like she was being sized up. Jane stood tall beside her, a protector of sorts, narrowing her eyes at Maggie.

“Thanks,” Joan mumbled. The bedazzled gems encrusted on Maria’s dress caught her attention and she looked at her in wonder. “Wow… You’re so shiny.”

Maggie snorted. “Shiny?” She said. “Joan, what are you talking about?”

“You made The Human Tide,” Joan went on, ignoring her. She lifted one of Maria’s hands in her own, tracing the lines on her palms. “Passion and lust, envy and yearning, wrath and guilt…” She looked up at her, eyes shining. “Did you put some Sylvia Plath in there?”

“What?” Maggie said uneasily.

“I-I did,” Maria stammered in an oddly rapt way. “I didn’t think anyone would have noticed… Nobody ever understands my pieces.”

“I’m very observant,” Joan stated. “Charles Dickens and Edgar Allen Poe and lines from the Odyssey…”

“Okay, not you’re literally just saying random names.” Maggie said. She looked at the others. “What is going on?”

“Shh.” George shushed her, earning him an evil glare that he deftly dodged around Anna.

“It was very beautiful.” Joan said, releasing Maria’s hand.

“Thank you,” Maria said, wide-eyed. “That--that means a lot. Thank you.”

Joan smiled at her. She looked at Anna in a sort of glance of approval and Anna grinned back at her.

“This is so fucking weird,” Maggie hissed under her breath, the swept away into the crowd. Maria and her date lingered around.

“Oh, hey,” George suddenly said to the boy in the maroon tux. “I know you from...Trigonometry? You’re William, right?”

“Yeah,” The boy, William, nodded.

“Where’d you get your dress?” Maria asked Joan at the same time.

“She made it.” Jane said.

“I made it.”

Maria looked Joan up and down, sort of like Jane did, then said, “Shut up!”

Joan flinched slightly and bristled. “You shut up!”

Maria laughed. Anna set a hand on Joan’s shoulder to relax her, chuckling slightly.

“Really, you made that?” Maria asked.

Joan nodded. “It’s a really simple pattern. I also got the fabric really cheap.”

“Wow.” Maria said. “Give it a twirl!”

“What?”

“Twirl your dress!” Maria specified, then demonstrated, spinning in a shimmering circle of orange and silver. “Like that!”

“Oh--” Joan blinked. “Okay.” She twirled for them.

Maria gasped loudly. “LOOK AT YOUR ASS!!!”

Joan yelped and leapt backwards against Anna, eyes bulging. George burst into laughter. William leaned to the side slightly to get a look and nodded in approval.

“Now THAT’S queer!” George chortled.

“Okay, after seeing your ass, the whole ‘nun in street clothes’ thing is no longer acceptable.” Maria said to Joan.

Joan’s bewildered expression does not lessen. In fact, she looked even more confused and startled after hearing that. Jane leaned down to her and whispered, “It was a compliment.”

“You’re glowing,” Maria said. “You really do look great, Joan. So different!”

Joan blushed shyly. “Thank you.”

Someone gently took Joan’s arm. “Let’s go find our table.” Jane said, and began guiding Joan through the crowd. “Yikes. Why is everyone acting so weird around you?”

“I’m not--usually like this.” Joan said. “All nice and pretty and dressed up. I’m kinda weird…”

“I like weird.” Jane said. “It makes you special.”

Joan ducked her head to hide her bashful expression. Jane chuckled.

“Here we are!” They stop at an empty table that was coiled with ivy and violets. Three candles flickered on the tabletop. Anna and George caught up to them.

“They’re really trusting us with real candles?” George said, peering at the small flames. “Not the best decision they could have made.”

“How are you doing?” Anna asked, sitting down next to Joan. “Feeling alright? Need to go out and get some fresh air? I know parties like this can be a little much. With everyone packed together and whatnot.”

Joan’s heart fluttered in her chest. She’s never had someone be so worried about her before. Anna genuinely cared about how she was feeling.

“I’m okay,” She answered. “It’s a lot, though. I’ve never been to a place like this before. It’s amazing.”

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it,” Jane put in.

Joan nodded. “I hope I’m doing okay. Again, this isn’t really my crowd, you know?”

“You’re doing great.” Anna told her. “Trust me.”

“Joan?” A voice called.

George leapt to his feet instantly and dragged Jane with him to go visit with another table, saluting Anna and Joan as he careened away. The remaining duo blinked, then realized what he was fleeing from.

It was Miss Aragon.

The gym coach appeared from the crowd in glistening swathes of gold, like an angel descending from heaven. Her dark brown hair was elegantly curled, framing her makeup-covered face perfectly. The dress she wore was smooth, with no wrinkles or frills, and had short sleeves so her muscles could be revealed to wandering eyes. A black pendant hung around her strong neck, glinting like polished onyx in the light.

“Oh, Miss Aragon!” A smile came to Joan’s face the moment she saw her favorite teacher. “You look incredible!”

“Thank you.” Miss Aragon said. “You look beautiful.”

Joan ducked her head humbly. “That’s very nice of you,” She said. “I know it isn’t true, but thank you anyway.”

Miss Aragon and Anna both ruffled slightly at that.

“Don’t be modest,” Miss Aragon said. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Joan blushed. “Thank you… Really, thank you.”

“Hey, Miss Aragon!” Anna said to the coach.

“Anna.”

Joan blinked and glanced back and forth between the two of them. Why did Miss Aragon look so threatening? Why did Anna look slightly nervous? Was there something going on that she didn’t know?

“You guys want some punch?” Anna said briskly, standing up. She smoothed out her tux and straightened her flower crown. “I heard Henry and Francis spiked it.” She snickered.

“Oh no,” Joan said in a woebegone voice. “Isn’t it dangerous to drink spikes? What if someone chokes?”

“Really?” Miss Aragon said to Anna at the same time.

Anna laughed, then noticed Miss Aragon’s unamused, deadpan expression. She stopped instantly.

“Uh-- No.” She said. “I’m joking.”

Miss Aragon’s expression did not change. Anna cleared her throat, then sidled off towards the food temples. Miss Aragon rolled her eyes and sat down next to Joan.

“So,” Miss Aragon smiled at her. “Is it everything you dreamed?”

“It’s nice.” Joan said.

Miss Aragon laughed. “Just nice?”

“It’s like being on Mars,” Joan admitted. “Now that I’m here, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do.”

“I remember my prom,” Miss Aragon mused. Joan tipped her head in interest. “I went with the captain of the basketball team. She was six foot seven inches tall!” They both laughed. “So, I went out and bought a pair of these Stiletto heels so the kiss goodnight would be less awkward. Anyway, we went in her pickup truck, which of course broke down, so we had to walk the last half mile to the prom.”

“Oh no!” Joan gasped.

“By the time we finally got there, my feet were so blistered that all I could do was just sit there. I was sure I ruined the night, I couldn’t dance, but you know what? We just sat there and talked for hours. And it turned out to be one of the best nights of my entire life.”

“Wow,” Joan said. “I’m so happy for you, Miss Aragon! I’m sorry you couldn’t dance, though.”

“Could have been worse,” Miss Aragon shrugged. “There was this one girl whose boyfriend brought a toy gun so he could pose like James Bond in the picture.”

“Oh,” Joan giggled, despite not knowing who James Bond was. “He sounds like fun.”

“Yeah,” Miss Aragon nodded. “He was arrested.”

Joan stopped giggling instantly. Miss Aragon chuckled.

“But it’s okay.” Miss Aragon said. “It’s just a dance. Not that special.”

Joan nodded. Her gaze began to slide back to the party around them, to the mass of writhing limbs that was the dance floor. Mostly everyone was dancing or talking, but she spotted a few people staring over at her and whispering to each other. Some glanced away when she noticed, pretending they weren’t gossiping about her, while others didn’t even try to make it seem like they weren’t talking behind her back. She turned her head towards them fully, unable to look away, and felt fear and shame bubbling back up inside of her.

(Mama was right Mama was right Mama was right Mama was right)

Miss Aragon smothered those thoughts for her.

“Are you excited for summer?” Her coach asked. Joan turned her head back to her, successfully pulling her attention away. “Then you’ll be in Year 12. One grade closer until graduation!”

“I don’t know,” Joan admitted. “Graduation makes me nervous. I don’t even know what I want to study.”

“That’s understandable,” Miss Aragon said, nodding. “I couldn’t wait to graduate.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Miss Aragon said. “I hated high school.”

“Oh, god.” Joan leaned in. “I do, too. I know you’re not supposed to say that, but I do. I hate it. I hate it so much.”

“Preach it to the choir.” Miss Aragon said. “No offense.”

Joan smiled slightly. Miss Aragon took one of her hands and stroked the knuckles with her thumb.

“Just remember,” She said. “Nothing that has happened will matter after graduation. Nothing. Except, you know, things like good grades and studying. You take what you want and leave the rest behind. You don’t even have to see any of these people again if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t?”

“No.” Miss Aragon said. “Oh, but I highly recommend the ten year reunion.”

“Why?” Joan asked eagerly.

“Everybody’s different. People will say, ‘Oh my god, so-and-so hasn’t changed a bit,’ but they’re LYING.” Miss Aragon told her, a devilish smirk twitching on her lips. “Everybody changes. And not always for the better.” She scanned the crowd, her smirk curving fully. She leaned into Joan, subtly nodding towards a trio of girls in insanely expensive dresses. “Like, those girls over there? Right now, they’re at their peak. They will never be more pretty or more popular, and in ten years, they’ll be fat.” She snickered. “And the fat girls, some of them will be thin, and the cute boys will be bald. The jocks will have beer bellies-- it’s fantastic!”

Joan dissolved into giggles and had to cover her mouth.

“And the ones who were miserable?”

Joan stopped giggling. She watched Miss Aragon nervously. Her hand was squeezed comfortingly.

“They turn out just fine.”

A grin came to Joan’s lips and she didn’t try to stamp it down.

(i’m okay i’ll be okay)

“They do,” Miss Aragon said, squeezing Joan’s hand again. “So enjoy yourself, and try not to take it too seriously. Everything is going to be okay.”

Joan vaulted into Miss Aragon’s arms, unable to hold herself back. Miss Aragon chuckled and hugged her back, cupping the back of her head to her chest with one hand and rubbing up and down her spine with the other.

“Thank you,” Joan whispered.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Miss Aragon told her.

“Woah,” A voice said. “I better not catch you hugging any other girls like that!”

Joan and Miss Aragon parted as Anna set two cups on the table, grinning.

“Have a good talk?”

“Uh huh,” Joan nodded.

“We did.” Miss Aragon said. “And on that note- Anna. Can I speak with you for a moment?”

“Sure.” Anna said, sounding slightly guarded.

Miss Aragon smiled at Joan and kissed the top of her head before standing up. She took Anna by the arm and guided her away, far out of earshot from Joan.

“Having fun?” Miss Aragon asked. Her voice wasn’t nearly as loud as the blasting music, but the biting words still cut smoothly through all the noise.

“Yeah,” Anna nodded. “Yeah, I am. I think Joan is having fun, too. She’s making a lot of progress!” She looked over her shoulder for a moment, seeing that Joan was pulled over to one of the desert tables by Jane and George. George put some whipped cream on a brownie, then handed it to Joan, who observed the canister seriously for a moment and then promptly sprayed herself in the face. She dropped the can with an alarmed screech and tottered backwards as laughter erupted around her. She was laughing, too.

“That’s good,” Miss Aragon said, smiling fondly at Joan as she was trying to wipe her face off. “I just thought you should know,” She turned her smile to Anna, “that if you show Joan anything less than the time of her life, I will personally see to it that you are expelled.”

Anna gaped at her, mouth hanging open slightly. All the color drained from her face. Miss Aragon narrowed her eyes dangerously, leaning in.

“Do you understand the words that just came out of my mouth?”

Anna swallowed hard and nodded. Miss Aragon smiled again.

“Very good.” The coach said, pleased. “Now go get back to her.” She caught Anna’s arm when she tried to walk away. “Oh, and wait for a slow song to dance with her to. She’ll look stupid dancing to anything fast.”

Anna nodded again and was released. She scampered back over to the table, glancing over her shoulder at the coach as she went.

“Everything okay?” Joan asked as Anna sat back down.

“Yeah!” Anna answered. “Yeah, don’t worry.” She looked up as a slower song by Billie Eilish began to play. “You wanna dance?”

“No.” Joan said instantly.

“Oh--” Anna blinked. “Alright.”

“Sorry…” Joan hunched her shoulders in. “Maybe later. But not right now, please? I still wanna get settled in completely.”

“Yeah, of course,” Anna said. “We can just talk, alright?”

“I like that idea.”

“So…” Anna shifted in her seat slightly. She looked Joan over, then plunged into a question she really hoped wouldn’t upset her date (and make her have to retake Year 13 when Miss Aragon found out), “If I may...how’d you get those scars on your hands?”

“Ah--” Joan coiled her scarred hands into her cowl, looking embarrassed. “Um-- It’s really stupid…”

“No, no, no--” Anna caught her before she could tuck herself back into the shell she was just starting to come out of. “Hey, why don’t I tell you one of my dumb scar stories?”

Joan looked up at her in interest.

“Okay, so--” Anna looked around like she was making sure no one was around, despite there being dozens of people all around them. “I have this little hole in my lower stomach because when I was eight, I put a pencil in my pants and it stabbed me when I went to pee.”

Joan instantly burst out into laughter. It was such a pleasant sound to hear coming out of her, slightly high pitched and adorable.

“Really?” She sputtered out.

“I swear to god!” Anna said, laughing with her. “You can’t really see it anymore, but you can feel the indent of where the hole is. I also have this bad boy,” She rolled her left pant leg up enough to reveal a giant, faded burn scar on her inner thigh. Joan ogled it.

“What happened?” The younger girl gaped.

“When I was 13, me, my younger sister, and my cousin were riding around in a golf cart. My cousin was driving, and he ended up turning in a cul-de-sac way too fast, flipping the entire golf cart on my side. I hit the asphalt and, since I was sitting next to my cousin in the front, that whole loaf fell onto me, breaking his fall and letting him come out completely unscathed. I, however, got this burn.”

“Wow…” Joan murmured. “Were you scared?”

“At the time, oh yeah,” Anna said. “My sister wasn’t moving at all. I thought she was dead. So we got a helicopter air lift to the hospital. That was pretty neat!”

“You aren’t...ashamed of it?” Joan asked softly. “Your scar?”

“I used to be,” Anna admitted. “But it’s a part of me, you know? It’ll only look worse if I try to get rid of it. Besides, it looks pretty cool, and it's not like anyone sees it that often anyway. It’s always too cold to wear shorts.”

Joan nodded. She unconsciously traced one of the webs of scar tissue lacing across her left hand. She looked up at Anna with courage in her eyes.

“I stuck my hands in fire.”

Anna raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Uh huh,” Joan nodded. “I found a picture of my father and my Mama threw it into the fire. I tried to grab it and burned myself pretty badly in the process.” She splayed her hands open, revealing the entire spider web of burns to Anna’s eyes. They were white than her already-porcelain skin, like someone had tried to paint over them. “They used to look really bad. All red and peeling a lot. But they’re gotten better, I think.” She rubbed her rough palms together.

“Wow.” Anna said. “That’s pretty metal.”

Joan looked at her strangely. “They’re not metal? This is skin.” She looked down at the scars.

Anna laughed.

“So… Did you know him?”

“Hm?” Joan looked back up at her.

“Your father.” Anna clarified. “If I may. Did you know him?”

Joan shook her head. “No. He left when I was just a baby.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I have his eyes.”

“Oh,” Anna said. “I mean, I’m glad the rumors aren’t true. Not that him leaving is a good thing, it absolutely isn’t, but it’s better than people saying--”

“My Mama killed him?” Joan finished. She looked up at Anna thoughtfully. “I don’t think she did. But you still never know…” She shook her head and rubbed her palms against her dress. “Can we--go outside?”

“Need some air?” Anna asked.

“Yeah,” Beads of sweat were welling up on the crown of Joan’s head. “It’s getting kinda hot in here.”

“Come on.”

The two of them slipped out of the prom through the door that fed into the rest of the school. It was much cooler in that hallway and much quieter, with only dim storm lights turned on overhead. They walked a few paces down until they got to the entrance hall. They sat down on the huge main staircase.

“Are you okay?” Anna asked, gently touching Joan’s arm. There was worry in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Joan answered, nodding. “Trust me. I just need to get away from all that noise for a moment.”

“Gotcha.” Anna said. “It was getting pretty wild in there.”

Joan nodded again. She was staring forward, looking out the huge windows all along the entrance way of the school. The sky was completely black now, even with the layer of clouds, and sheets of drizzling rain could be seen sparkling in the outside lights.

“So…” Anna said, hoping to ease back into some small talk. “What do you want to study in college? I know you’re only in Year 11, but I’m curious.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Joan shrugged. “Is sewing an option?”

Anna laughed slightly. “I’m not sure.”

“What about you?”

“Something with agriculture,” Anna told her. “I kinda wanna be a game warden. I like animals. A park ranger would be cool, too. I could get an entire tower all to myself!”

“That sounds scary.” Joan said. “Being all alone in a tower in the middle of the woods...”

“Don’t put it like that! You’ll crush my dreams!” Anna teased. “I actually thought about being a singer at one point, too. Can you believe that?” She snorted and shook her head.

“A singer?” Joan echoed. “Can you sing?”

“I like to think I can.”

“Can you show me?”

Anna blinked, slightly shy. “Right now?”

Joan nodded eagerly.

“What would I sing?”

“Your poem!”

“What?”

“Your poem, silly.” Joan said again. “It’s basically a song, you know. Just give it a rhythm!”

“Oh.” Anna blinked. “Right. Okay.” She cleared her throat meaningfully. “Let’s see…

An eagle's just another bird

Until he can spread his wings

A river's just a sheet of ice

Till winter turns to spring,”

Her voice came out husky and smooth, like molten caramel. Each word flicked languidly off of her tongue, dripping easily into open ears. Joan watched her in amazement and great interest and then, shockingly, began to sing the next few stanzas.

“And though the clouds may block the sun

Don't mean that it's left the sky,”

Joan’s voice was soft and slightly raspy, but higher pitched and easy on the ears. It was light and airy and pronounced each word with silky gentleness. Anna was so startled from hearing it that she faltered for a moment. Joan giggled at her bewildered expression.

“What?” She asked.

“You sing beautifully.” Anna blurted.

Joan blushed. “Thank you. I hope you don’t mind. Your poem was just so amazing that I sorta kinda memorized it… Sorry.”

Anna blinked at her in amazement. Nobody had ever been so interested in any of her writing pieces before, not even Katherine.

“No, no it’s okay!” She said quickly. “That’s so cool. That you like it that much. It means a lot to me.”

Joan smiled. “I’m glad.” She said. “Now, what was the next part?”

“Umm… Oh!” Anna cleared her throat again, then began singing once more,

“Just when you think you've seen it all

There's more than meets the eye,”

“Like, things I dream,”

“And things I feel,”

��There’s more to me,”

“Than I reveal,” The harmony they pulled off together was like nothing Anna had ever heard before. Her deep alto and Joan’s light soprano mixed together beautifully, sounding like liquid sugar in their ears.

“And cause I shine in quiet ways

I'm someone you don't recognize,” Joan sang, a smile twitching on her lips.

“I’m a diamond in the rough

A dreamer in disguise…”

They finished in another chilling harmony. Joan beamed at Anna. Anna smiled back at her brightly.

“That...was incredible.” Anna breathed.

“I know!” Joan exclaimed gleefully. “We sounded SO GOOD! I didn’t even know I could sing like that!”

Anna had never seen her so energetic before. Even Joan never felt this way before, so happy and at ease. She must have come out of her shell a lot more than she thought.

“You’re great, Joan.” Anna said. “We should really hang out more often! Are you free tomorrow by any chance? Katherine, George, Jane, and I were going to have an after party at my house. We have a pool!”

Joan looked absolutely thrilled to be invited. “I would love to go.” She said, eyes glowing. “Do you really mean it, Anna?”

“Of course!” Anna said. “We were also going to watch a few movies, too. Have you ever seen Star Wars?”

“No.”

Anna gaped at her in shock. “Really? You’ve never seen a single Star Wars movie before?”

“We don’t have a TV at my house.” Joan admitted. “What is Star Wars? Is it, like, World War I in outer space?”

Anna burst into laughter. Joan blinked at her in a delighted way.

“Now I REALLY have to show you!” Anna said, wiping an eye. “It’s a date!”

“Yeah,” Joan said excitedly.

They hung out on the main staircase for a little bit longer, discussing plans for the next day and Anna giving Joan permission to wear one of her bathing suits (since she didn’t have her own), then ventured back into the prom.

“I still can’t get over how pretty it is,” Joan said as they walked past a sculpture shaped like temple ruins. “It’s like a dream. A perfect dream.”

The plants were one her favorite parts by far. All around her there were glorious purple exploding star-shaped flowers, delicate pale orange orchids, clusters of petals the color of bananas, odd little orbs in ruby red and sapphire blue. Hanging moss and trailing vines and reaching willow were like curtain doorways to new parts of the prom in all shades of emerald green. And then, there was the tree glowing brightly among all the greenery.

It was so much more beautiful up close. Joan could see all the little details in the pure white trunk, which must have taken forever to get just right. The globes hanging from the branches were the same icy blue as her eyes, she realized, and she blinked at them in wonder. Was the color really that beautiful?

Looking closer, she noticed something in the hollow of the closest globe. A rolled up piece of paper! In fact, several of the globes had one or more, folded or rolled up to sit inside. There was also a small brown table next to the tree with pens and pieces of paper for anyone who wanted to write something. George was currently doing just that, looking very dutiful as he did so, while Jane waited by his side. She noticed Joan and Anna and perked up.

“There you guys are!” She said. “I was wondering where you went.”

“Sorry,” Anna said. “We just went out to get some air. What are you guys doing?”

“Making wishes,” Jane told her. “That’s what the tree is about. You’re supposed to write a wish or desire on a piece of paper and then put it into one of the fruit things.”

“So the decoration committee can laugh at you when they read all of them after prom,” George added as he was writing. “So don’t mark your name. And hope your handwriting doesn’t get recognized.”

“Wanna write one?” Jane asked.

Anna nodded, then nudged Joan questioningly.

“Sure,” Joan said.

They went over to the table George was hunched over at and each took a pen and piece of paper. Anna thought for just a moment, then began writing something, while Joan hesitated a little bit longer.

She had so many wishes that she thought about all the time. Being adopted into a nicer family, Mama loving her like a normal mother would, having friends, finding her father, getting a kitten… There were so many things to put down, and so little room, so, after a moment of deciding, she wrote, “I wish to always be happy like I am now.”

She rolled her paper up like a scroll and tucked it into an empty globe. Jane did the same, then Anna, and then, finally, George.

“So, what did you guys wish for?” George asked as they walked back over to their table. “Because I wished for something practical. Money.”

“I should have known,” Jane chuckled. “I wished for an easy, hopefully painless transition into college after summer is over.”

“Eternal love,” Anna said.

“A pet cat,” Joan lied, feeling too sappy to say her actual one.

“That’s a good wish, that’s a good wish,” George nodded in approval.

The four of them began to chat for several minutes, discussing summer plans and swapping funny stories. Joan didn’t have much to share, seeing as her life wasn’t exactly very easy to bring up in a lighthearted conversation, but Anna, Jane, and George each made sure she was included. She was perfectly happy with just listening quietly, but actually getting to partake in the talk felt like an honor she didn’t deserve.

“What about you, Joan?” George had been asking. “Got any embarrassing secrets?”

Joan thought for a moment, sifting out several way-too-dark things to share.

“I can’t swim,” She finally admitted.

“Woah, really?” George said. “I thought everyone learned how to swim.”

“Where? In school?” Anna snorted. She turned her head to Joan, eyebrows furrowed. “I guess that makes tomorrow’s pool party a little unfortunate, huh?”

“I still wanna come.” Joan said quickly, afraid the opportunity will be taken from her. “I agreed regardless, didn’t I? And I’ll be okay. I just had a bad experience with water one time, that’s all. It’s been years, anyway.”

(the tepid water and her wrinkled fingertips marked the end of her bubble bath. Mama just checked on her, but her patience had doubled since then. she called for Mama to help her out of the tub, but Mama did not respond. she tried twice more but she heard no returning calls. she decided that she did not really need Mama’s help; she was five and a big girl.

the slippery acrylic tub and her misplaced feet resulted in her arm roughly slicing on the sharp faucet. a metallic and unknown smell engulfed her. all she saw was red, just like candy apples. so much red falling from her arm and coloring the bathwater. unexplainable fear and pain overcame her. she started to cry and within seconds, Mama was standing at the door.

she had always been beautiful, but the flour smeared on her face and the stress lines present on her features did not do much for her. the sheer horror on her expression scared her further and transformed weak cries into wailing screams. Mama appeared white as a sheet as they stared at each other, motionless. the tub water was noticeably darker when she started to feel a painful sensation shooting down her arm. in a flash, Mama was carrying her onto the sink counter, swaddling her in a towel that turned crimson red almost instantly. Mama was wearing her special apron and bore a grim look on her face.

Mama left for just a moment, then returned with something gleaming.

there was no warning given before Mama started putting a needle and thread through her skin. it reminded her of sewing a dress together. she can only feel a light tugging, but it did not quiet her cries. Mama finally cut the thread after what felt like forever. the cuddles she got after that were like angel hugs. she thought she should hurt herself more often.)

“What happened?” George asked with great interest. Jane lightly whacked his arm.

“Don’t be pushy.” She chided him, then looked at Joan. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, hun.”

The pet name sent flickers of pink flames glowing on Joan’s ears. Her heart fluttered wildly inside of her chest, like a butterfly flapping its wings for the first time.

“Well--”

(the shower. the blood in the water like when she was five. her blood. girls all around her laughing, throwing things, humiliating her.)

“I was twelve, and I snuck away from home to this Christian summer camp because I wanted to make some friends,” She said. “That, of course, went south, and all the kids participated in a game where they would dunk me in the pool until I started drowning.”

Silence filled the table. Joan instantly felt guilty and lowered her head.

“Sorry…” She mumbled. “I-I shouldn’t have…”

“I’m so sorry, Joan.” Jane looked sympathetic and concerned. “That sounds awful.”

“Those kids are awful.” George corrected her. “I’m sorry, too.”

“Me too.” Anna nodded. She gently took one of Joan’s hands and squeezed it. “That’ll never happen ever again, I promise.”

Joan smiled at her. “Thank you.” She wanted to dive into Anna’s honey brown eyes and catch the reflected flames in there. She wanted to tell her and George and Jane how much this meant to her.

Suddenly, Anna’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, but kept her other hand holding Joan’s.

“Oh, it’s Kat!” She said to the other three. “She’s asking how the night is going.”

“Amazing!” George declared. “Really amazing! Isn’t this prom the GREATEST?”

Jane tipped her head at him and smiled, and Joan realized that THAT was what it looked like when someone was in love.

“It is amazing,” Jane agreed.

“Yeah,” Joan nodded.

“I’m gonna send a picture to her,” Anna said. “Come on, guys! Everyone get in!”

They all huddled together, even Joan, who got snugly sandwiched between Anna and Jane. Anna snapped a picture and then sent it to Katherine, along with a quick text telling her how things were going. By the time she finished, the music had changed into a slow, soothing song, and couples began to group together on the dance floor, including Jane and George.

“Oh--” Anna looked up with a smile. “It’s a slow song, Joan.”

Joan froze, her eyes widening. She began shaking her head, but Anna was already standing up and gently taking her hands. She pulled them back quickly.

“No, Anna, I can't--” Joan stammered nervously. She glanced at all the couples dancing, noting how smoothly they moved, and couldn’t possibly imagine herself swaying among them. She would be much too clumsy. “I’ve never danced before.”

“That’s okay,” Anna said dismissively.

“No, no, Anna--” Joan’s fear was mounting. This was where everything went wrong, this was where things got messed up, this was where her perfect night fell apart--

“Hey.” Anna knelt down in front of her. “It’s going to be okay. It’s just one little dance, and all we do is hold each other and sway. Just like everyone else is doing.”

Joan glanced at the dancers again. It didn’t look too hard…

“B-but what if--”

“Shh,” Anna carefully adjusted Joan’s flower crown so it would be straight again. “Everything is alright, Joan. Nothing bad will happen. Remember: if anyone laughs, I kick their ass.”

That got a tiny smile from Joan. Anna smiled back and lifted Joan to her feet, guiding her onto the dance floor.

“Okay, so you’re going to grab my hand like this. See?” Their right hands clasped together in the air. “And then set the other one on my shoulder.” Joan’s left hand rested on Anna’s shoulder, while Anna’s gently cupped her waist. “And then we sway…” They swayed. “See? It’s easy. You’re a natural!”

Joan smiled shyly up at Anna. She glanced around them, and realized mainly everyone was too absorbed in their partners to notice she was dancing with them.

“And...if you wanna get fancy with it…” Anna smirked. “We can do the Dancing With The Stars move.”

Joan had no idea what that was, but it still sent lightning bolts of anxiety shooting through her.

“N-no, Anna, no, I can’t--”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Anna hushed her gently. “Just trust me.” And then she stepped back slightly and spun around slowly so her arm would be draped across her torso and Joan would be pressed against her chest. Joan looked up at her with a mix between an amazed and deer-in-headlights look. “See? Easy! Wasn’t that fun?”

Joan nodded wordlessly, lost in her wonder. Her icy blue eyes were sparkling like starlight twinkling on fresh snow. Anna gently uncoiled her and they got back into position.

“You’re a good learner.” Anna told her partner.

“Thank you,” Joan whispered, ducking her head. “Can I spin you?”

Anna laughed. “Sure.”

Joan spun Anna, but ended up twisting their arms quite painfully before the full rotation could be complete, so they had to break away and come back together with unknotted muscles. They both laughed.

“Good first try!” Anna said.

Joan giggled.

A serene silence fell between the two of them as the music went on. They swayed together like a white and pink boat drifting on the quiet waves of the ocean at night. The rhythm they rocked to was conducted by years worth of longing and desire from Joan’s part, and now it was all blooming before her. Everything she’s ever wanted was happening. Friends, a fun night away from home, people who actually give a damn about her… She could feel tears of joy pricking in her eyes and she quickly blinked them back.

“Do you really have to be home by eleven?”

Anna’s voice, smooth and caring and not a bit cruel, cut though the singing playing from the large speakers set up. Joan looked up at her. It felt like she had just woken up from a nap, that the music had lulled her into sleep and she slipped away into a blissful dream. But it wasn’t a dream. This was real. The bodies rocking around her and the beautiful decorations and her perfect dress and Anna’s hand in her own--it was all real.

“Yes,” Joan said, processing what Anna had asked her. She frowned. “I’m sorry. I promised.”

“No, that’s okay!” Anna said quickly. “It’s just that after prom, a few of us were going to go to--”

“OKAY.” Joan said, pulling away and hugging her hands in close.

Anna blinked. “Um. What?”

“No, no, if you want to go off with your friends, I understand. I-I-I don’t want to spoil anything.” Joan sputtered out, feeling her heart sink back into the black abyss it had finally climbed out of for the first time in fifteen years.

“What I was going to say was,” Anna said, taking Joan’s hands again and pulling her back against her. She began to sway again. “If you’d like to, after prom, we could stop at the Blazer for awhile.”

Joan blinked. She suddenly felt embarrassed about how she had jumped to conclusions so easily, that just goes to show how much she truly trusted Anna, but Anna didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ve never been there.” She said, unsurprisingly. She didn’t go to many places.

“They have the BEST fries!” Anna stated, grinning.

“I’d love to.” Joan said.

“Then it’s decided!”

A smile was starting to come to Joan’s lips, one that felt like it would stay there for the entire night no matter how hard she tried to smother it. After years of vicious bullying and constant teasing and unfriendly looks, she suddenly found herself wrapped in attention and warmth. Anna or Jane or George didn’t hate her or were afraid of her like Mama had said at all. More than that, they seemed to actually like her. They were talking to her and being nice to her and making her laugh, and none of it seemed forced in even the slightest way. They were making her forget, for all these hours, how miserable she had been and how miserable she truly was. The pain was numbed.

For once in her life, for the first time in fifteen years, she truly felt happy.

“Thank you.” Joan whispered, breaking another few peaceful seconds of silence between them.

“What for?” Anna asked, tilting her head slightly.

“For everything.” Joan clarified. “For taking me to prom. For the limo. For being so nice to me.” The tears were coming back, but she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to blink them back this time. “I know you don’t like me like that, and I know it’s only one night, but…” She looked up at Anna, her eyes sparkling. “I’m glad I got to be your date tonight.”

“Me too.” Anna said, taking Joan by surprise.

“R-really?”

For a moment, Anna frowned at her disbelief, but then she shook her head and chuckled slightly.

“Of course,” She said. “I’m having the best time with you.”

“B-but what about Katherine--” Joan stammered, her voice catching in her throat.

“Katherine isn’t here right now,” Anna said, wiping away the tear that rolled down Joan’s left cheek. “Tonight, you’re all that matters to me. I’m going to make sure this is the best night of your life. And the nights and days and everything else after that. You aren’t alone anymore, Joan.”

That’s what broke Joan.

The girl whimpered, bottom lip quivering, and a cascade of sparkling silver tears began pouring down her face. Anna cupped the back of her head and brought it to press into the crook of her neck for security. Joan cried steadily, thanking her over and over again through squeaking sobs.

“How about this?” Anna said when Joan began to quiet down and was able to pull her head back. Her makeup was slightly smeared, but Anna still thought she looked amazing. “We dance for a little longer, see what poor fools get elected as prom king and queen, and then head to the Blazers for a bite to eat. And I’ll have you home by eleven.” She smiled warmly. “How does that sound to you?”

Joan nodded.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Joan squeaked. “Maybe eleven-thirty…”

“Whatever you want.”

“Eleven-thirty.”

Anna smiled even more. “Wonderful.”

They fell into blissful silence as the song began to wrap up. Joan’s eyes were starting to sting, but she didn’t care. She tucked her head underneath Anna’s chin and rested her head on her chest, relaxing. Anna swayed them both gently, acting as a protective barrier that Joan never wanted to be away from.

The song soon ended and the two of them parted. George and Jane bounded over to them, with George grinning his head off and tapping his feet energetically. Jane rolled her eyes at him fondly, then smiled at Joan and Anna.

“I saw you guys dancing,” She said. “You were really good for your first time! This one,” She jerked her head at George, “tripped on MY FEET and dragged me to the ground when he fell the first time we danced together.”

Anna and Joan laughed. George was not fazed by his girlfriend spilling embarrassing things about him. In fact, he seemed a little proud.

“It’s going to be funny to tell our kids one day!” He said.

“Oh, you,” Jane rolled her eyes again and poked his nose. “Oh, Joan. Your makeup smeared.”

Joan blinked and lifted a hand to her face. “Oh dear,” She murmured in dismay.

“Not to worry!” Jane waved a hand. “I have some makeup in my car. I can help you fix it.”

“Really?” Joan said. “Thank you.”

“No problem, lovely!” Jane said. She gently took Joan by the arm. “Anna, I’m going to borrow your girl for a moment. George, don’t do anything dumb.”

“Yes sir!” George beamed. When Jane and Joan whisked through the crowd and out into the parking lot, he sighed lovingly, “I love her so much…”

Anna laughed and patted his back. “I can tell!”

Meanwhile, in Jane Parker’s blue Hummer, Jane was dutifully applying fresh makeup onto Joan’s youthful face and thinking back to some of the things she overheard Anne Boleyn saying about her when she was over at the Boleyn residence to hang out with George. The young girl before her didn’t look ugly at all, despite what Anne had said, nor did she look like a freak. Her eyes may be a strange color, but they were the most beautiful shade of blue Jane had ever seen before.

Jane suspected that, deep down, Joan actually enjoyed the kind of pampering she was giving her in the car, despite the distrust in her eyes as Jane drew near with a mascara wand. Not that she needed anything more, but still. Little Miss Five Minute Skincare had obviously missed out on a lot of the girly stuff that had saturated Jane’s existence since birth.

It made sense, though. From the rumors she heard and from everything Anne griped about, she didn’t have a normal upbringing like most people should have. Something much darker lurked beneath those silly stories.

Something terrible has happened to this girl.

And, judging by the “hideous” hand-made flannels Joan apparently wore quite often to school, her mother hadn't been much of a fashion mentor either.

Once Jane had achieved the smoky eye effect she wanted, she applied some gloss to Joan’s lips. The girl had quite an amazing tone to her mouth. Pity it was drooped in a sullen pout at that moment.

Jane leaned back to admire her handwork.

“Well?” She adjusted the rear view mirror down so Joan could see her reflection. “How does it look?”

“Pretty…” Joan murmured. “But it feels like I have dirt on my face.” She pouted adorably again.

Jane laughed. “Makeup has that effect, unfortunately.” She said. “But you look lovely. Now, come on, let’s get back inside.”

They journeyed back into the prom, chatting idly as they went. Joan was smiling again, but her hands kept twitching like she wanted to rub her eyes. This was probably the first time she’s ever worn mascara, Jane realized.

“Wow,” Anna murmured breathlessly when Jane and Joan got back to their table. Even George looked a little starstruck at the newer, better makeup applied to Joan’s face.

“Do I look alright?” Joan asked shyly.

“Better than alright!” George said.

“You look beautiful.” Anna added. “Gorgeous.”

Joan blushed bright red. “I’m glad.” She said. “Because this black stuff is making my eyes sticky. And itchy.”

“That’s mascara, sweetheart.” Jane corrected her.

“It’s AWFUL.” Joan said. “Do girls wearing makeup always have to feel this? How do they do that? I’d rather pluck all my eyelashes out!”

Jane, Anna, and George laugh. After a moment, Joan joined them, giggling.

“I’m going to go grab a drink,” Anna said, parting from the group and going over to the bufett temples.

“Excuse me?”

Anna spun around and found herself facing a young woman, maybe a Year 12 or Year 13, with tassels of red hair and striking smoky grey eyes. Her dress was scarlet, accenting her hair perfectly.

“Sorry,” She said, smiling slightly, “I just had to ask before I made a fool of myself. Are you two a couple?” She nodded in Joan’s direction.

“What? No!” Anna barked. The laugh came out more harshly-sounding than she meant, making her instantly guilty. But she was right- she wouldn’t date Joan. She was too young for one, and for another, she was already with Katherine.

The redhead was devouring Joan as the girl giggled over something George was saying, effortlessly adorable.

“No, we’re not a couple,” Anna found herself repeating as the redhead purred her appreciation. “But Joan” Anna couldn't resist. She really wanted Joan to open up to new people. “…Joan’s a total stud.”

God, that felt a lot weirder to say than she expected. She did NOT like that.

“Really?” The redhead’s gaze shot to Anna’s face and then back to her object of attraction. “Joan?” She teased the name with her tongue. “God, she's cute. Do you think I have a chance?”

Anna shrugged and sipped her drink to stifle a giggle. To be honest, she didn’t actually know. She had never ever seen Joan with anyone romantically before, making her believe she was a raging asexual or mother-superior-in-training.

The reality was that Joan was left tongue-tied by male and female nudity alike. Two years into high school gym, and Anne would say she STILL averted her eyes when changing out with other girls in the locker room. She was just hopelessly shy when it came to all matters sex-related.

“She may play hard-to-get.” Anna finally said.

“Ah,” The redhead nodded slowly. She chuckled. “Thank you.” Then, like that, she glided back off into the mass of writhing limbs that was the prom. Anna respectfully waited ten seconds after she left to snort her laughter.

“You’ve got some fans, Jo,” She said, walking back over her friends.

“What?” Joan blinked up at her innocently.

“I think someone has a crush on you.”

Joan’s face flamed red instantly. She stammered on a reply, but all her words came out squeaking.

“O-oh.” She choked. “Nice?”

Anna chuckled and patted her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it was nothing. And you can always say no.”

Joan nodded. A second later, the music switched to an upbeat Lady Gaga song. George began to bound excitedly.

“Oh, I LOVE this song!!” He yelled. “Let’s dance!”

Anna glanced at Joan, who appeared to be a little more confident at dancing. They all moved to an emptier spot on the dance floor and began to dance.

“Come on, Joan!” Jane encouraged, noticing that Joan was just bobbing her head to the beat of the song. “Shake that bony white ass!”

Joan was flabbergasted at that, but was motivated to get a little more into the song. Anna, Jane, and George all clapped and cheered for her as she did so.

Unbeknownst to them, Maggie watched on with Bessie at her side. Bessie’s amethyst purple dress went with her bleached white hair surprisingly well, but Maggie wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not, seeing as Bessie’s head was filled with quite a few moths. Anthony was somewhere in the crowd near the food temples, lost in the cluster of black tuxedos so much like his own, fetching drinks like Maggie had asked.

“God, just look at them.” Maggie sneered in disgust, watching Joan dance like an idiot and Anna, Anne’s younger brother, and Anne’s younger brother’s girlfriend actually make it seem like they liked her. “Couldn’t you just vomit?”

“I can’t believe Anne is missing this.” Bessie said, wide-eyed. Maggie definitely saw flickers of longing and jealousy in her dark brown eyes; she wasn’t exactly very subtle with her big gay crush on Anna von Cleves.

“Trust me, doll,” Maggie said dismissively. She shot a smirk at the stage. “She isn’t missing a thing.”

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cryopathiic-a · 1 year ago

Note

"It doesn't matter what you say or what you do. What you have learned and how much you think you have grown. I am not taking you to Starbucks, I'll turn this car around right now, the last thing you need, is a Starbucks employee to drink."

The road ahead was growing narrow. His pupils would snap to the side as he gazed outside the window, where a myriad of lights was mirrored in his own petulant glare. They were headed home after a successful venture; those pale blue claws wrapped around the steering wheel had sunk yet deeper into human society tonight, as his overlord was quickly adapting to the new manner of running things in this advanced world. Not that it would be a problem for Lord Muzan to navigate it. Nothing was really a problem for Lord Muzan, right? He had conquered the sun already. He held the wisdom of two thousand years and the indomitable will of an unstoppable hurricane. He was the most powerful being to have ever walked this earth and his word was a commandment; unquestionable and absolute, so—

So why would he be so adamant on thwarting the natural order of things? Friday night is Starbucks night. And it had been this way long before their reawakening, pretty much ever since the worldwide chain brought its store to this island. Why? Oh, the reason was quite simple.

❝ Mmm, but Muzan-sama… ❞ A small pout turned his lip, beads rattling when his hand rose and rattled the thick wristband of chakra stone bracelets. Strands of unruly blonde were tucked behind his ear with a swift motion. His hair appeared even more choppy and messy now that it was chopped. The women of this age loved the boyish charm it held. That same arm moved to embrace the back of the driver’s seat as he turned towards them; driving, focused, unyielding red glare only taking brief breaks away from the road. If Doma’s driving was the equivalent of being tossed into the raging sea on a wooden board, Kibutsuji’s was comparable to being paddled around gracefully on a calm lake; like everything they did, the motions held purpose. And they drove very safely too, being a cautious person. It had already earned a few yawns from the younger oni.

❝ They are forced to work overtime under the glare of neurotic supervisors, for minimum wage, and with minimum benefits too just to make ends meet in the tiny apartments they live cramped in. And so many of them claim this will be a temporary job, or a job in between jobs, but they end up stuck there until they’re wondering where their twenties went because they wasted them all ruining their posture and growing a disdain for the smell of coffee. Barely anyone goes looking for them when they go missing! Starbucks employees… ❞ He leaned back into his seat, legs folding one atop the other. Painted red nails reached for the radio switch, to change the station and browse through the advertisements. All was rather dull at this hour, except for certain channels that played non-stop dance music.

❝ — might be some of the most miserable people in this world. So, I can’t help feeling like I need to focus on them, the poor things. ❞ A small pout as he turned back to the window. Thick, dark brows contorted in a pensive fashion as he sighed. ❝ I just want to hep them, is all. This is no way to live your life. ❞ His hand moved to undo the top button of his shirt’s collar. The androgynous look was also popular in this modern age; and for all that he was, Doma did make a beautiful passenger princess. Especially after the second button popped off as well, deliberately flashing a glimpse of iridescent skin, taut around his collarbone. A notable shift in demeanor, he sunk back into the seat and bit his lip with a placating smile.

❝ — Please… just for tonight. And then we could stop at that antique store you like, it’s on the way home if we take the detour to the Starbucks! ❞ Canting his head, fluttering his lashes; oh, come on, who could refuse those eyes?

#♥ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ꜱʜᴀᴘᴇᴅ ʙᴏx ᶠᵗ. ᴸᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵘᶻᵃⁿ | fallesto ♥#fallesto #♛ ¦ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇꜱ༺ answered #𝚅 𝟶𝟼. ⟅ i have been here as i am a thousand times ⟆#(( fave. ))

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dudeandduchess · 5 years ago

Text

Thank you for this, Biz!!!! My heart feels so full. 😂🍉 Also Tumblr was being dumb and not cutting things right, so...

***

Chances: Merman!Kyōjurō x Princess!F!S/O [Part Two] (Mermaid AU, SFW Scenario)

Note: This is still set in the Taishō era.

Days had passed since the last time that Kyōjurō had seen the love of his young life. He had been so reluctant to leave her alone and defenseless on the beach, but he had no choice as the sun had already risen and there had been other people who were trolling the shore at that time.

It was a shame that he couldn’t have stayed long enough to see her awake up close— let alone introduce himself to her— but he couldn’t really shake off the sense of responsibility that fell upon his shoulders.

No matter what he wanted, he still had to keep his peoples’ existence a secret. Lest they be hunted down by humans.

So, compared to matters of the heart, the lives of so many merpeople were much more important than his own wants and needs. And that was how he found himself pensively staring down at the kingdom below him— covertly allowing his gaze to flicker from the merpeople going on about their days, to the bejeweled hair pin that he’d managed to keep for himself.

“Nii-san.” Kyōjurō jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, quickly tucking the glittering hairpiece behind a half-dead, potted kelp plant, and whirled around to face his younger brother.

“Senjurō!” He tried keep his voice chirpy and energetic, like it usually was, but he couldn’t deny that even he could feel how strained his smile was. “Did you want something?”

It was well past lunch time, so the older of the two couldn’t fathom what his younger brother would want from him at the time— especially since he knew that it was usually time for Senjurō’s home classes at that hour.

“What are you doing out of class?”

With a small frown marring his features, Senjurō looked up at Kyōjurō, trying not to cry at the heartbreak and longing that were wafting from his brother. It wasn’t noticeable to anyone else, aside from him who knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him.

The younger Rengoku couldn’t help but be worried.

“Sensei gave me a break,” He whispered softly, gliding closer to Kyōjurō with a little flick of his beautiful red, yellow, and orange tail— much like the same color as his brother’s was. “Nii-san… I… you seem really sad lately.”

The smile on Kyōjurō’s face faltered a bit, before tapering down into a tight-lipped and extremely sad smile that had Senjurō’s tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. It was the first time that he’d seen his brother so affected by something, that was enough to have him actually look like he was close to crying himself— and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Everything inside the older Rengoku told him to lie and dismiss Senjurō’s words, but he refused to push him away just like their father had always done; so, he swam over to the half-dead kelp plant and took the hair pin that he’d gotten from his princess a few nights ago.

“You see, I met a girl…”

***

The entire castle had been silent— way too silent for Kyōjurō’s liking— that it afforded him so much serenity to reflect back on how he’d met his princess; remembering how she had felt in his arms, and how beautiful she had been when he’d woken up with the first vestiges of dawn illuminating her features.

He felt his heart skip a beat at the mere memory of having her on his chest— blissfully asleep, and painfully unaware of the fact that a merman had saved her.

A long-suffering sigh left his lips at that, producing air bubbles that the waved away with a big wave of his pillow in the water. There was nothing more that he wanted than to be with her, but his own sense of responsibility held him back from diving into his half-formed idea.

What was even worse for him was that he knew of a way that he could be with her, but he couldn’t fully utilize that means unless he was absolutely sure of what he wanted to give up.

His own happiness for the sake of his father’s kingdom? It was the most selfish thing that he had ever thought of— and it was an idea that was proving to be more and more tempting as the silence dragged on.

Kyōjurō knew that he shouldn’t have, but he still got up from his bed and proceeded to sneak out of the castle.

All so he could meet with the Sea Witch Muzan, and possibly strike up a deal to get him to stay with his princess.

***

For the last few days, (Y/n) had been coming back to the beach where she had washed up on; hoping to see even a glimpse of the man whom she had a vague memory of dragging her up the shore and pulling her to his chest.

She had never been one to believe in otherworldly creatures, as well as beings that were well out of the norm, but she couldn’t help but think that maybe— just maybe— there was a sprinkle of truth in the books that her brother loved to pore over in their library.

It was messing with her head so much that she could barely even eat, and could barely sleep— as those iridescent, and hauntingly captivating, irises plagued her every waking moment; even her dreams.

Still, no matter how much she wanted to dismiss the idea of mermaids and mermen— of things that had solely existed in childish fairy tales— she couldn’t help but feel a little stir crazy at how all of the signs pointed in the direction where they existed.

It was the only logical explanation of how she had survived, while having hazy memories of having lain on a man’s bare chest. Even his voice had sounded otherworldly; melodic and so soothing as he had rubbed away the chill she felt seeping in her bones.

(Y/n) didn’t want to admit it, but her savior had managed to do what most of her suitors could not: captivate her to the point where she was questioning her own sanity.

Because, if she boiled things down, it would come to light that she was slowly becoming fixated on finding that very man. It wasn’t just to thank him for what he’d done, but it was to get to know him better.

To see him smile at her, and to hear him talk about what life was like through his eyes. She wanted, more than anything, to know if he was the one that had been fated for her all along.

And it seemed that fate was smiling down on her at that moment, because she couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw a familiar mane of fiery blond hair poking out from behind a boulder; warranting her to throw all manner of social decorum in the air, so she could run over to the unconscious man.

“Sir, sir,” (Y/n) shook the blond’s shoulder, waiting with baited breath for him to open his eyes— or even just give her any indication that he was alive. And, just as she was about to get up and call for help, he began heaving slightly— trying to breathe and failing miserably, as he vomited some water, as well as what seemed to be a shred of seaweed, onto the sand.

The princess made a face at that— one that was a mix of mild disgust and surprise— but decided to look past that, as she tried to wake the man up again.

Thankfully, the second time she shook him awake, he finally stirred and opened his eyes— lifting his head up slightly and adopting an elated expression on his features when his eyes landed on her.

‘It’s you!’ Kyōjurō tried to yell out, only to have no words pour from his lips; and it was then that he remembered that he had traded his voice for legs. Though, what the Sea Witch would want with his voice, he didn’t know.

Shakily, he got up to sit on his newly acquired legs, taking a moment before he could balance himself on his haunches— much like how his princess was sitting across from him.

“Do you have a name? I’m (L/n) (Y/n),” She introduced herself, not even trying to bite back the smile that had her lips tilting up at the corners. Safe to say that she was as excited as Kyōjurō was, but that excitement was wiped away instantly when her eyes drifted down his body— taking in his chiseled torso, before inevitably flickering down to his lap.

Her face burned crimson with a blush at the sight of him; he was flaccid, and she had never seen a penis in real life before, but even she could tell that he was big.

“Oh my,” (Y/n) exclaimed softly, covering her mouth with her left hand and pointedly looking away from his crotch.

Kyōjurō then looked down at what had caused his princess to react in such a way, and blushed profusely before cupping his own hands over his lap; not even taking very long to figure out that the thing between his legs was his hemipenis… or, it had been, since he didn’t have a tail anymore.

So, deciding that that moment wasn’t the most ideal moment to ask him anything, (Y/n) gestured for him to stay put where he was, uttering a soft, “Stay here, please,” before getting up and calling one of her guards to get some clothes for her unexpected guest to dress into.

***

The ride back to the palace had been eventful, to say the least. (Y/n)’s guest had endlessly picked at his yukata, and had only stopped when they had managed to cross into the town.

He had even pressed his face up against the window of the car, watching everyone with unbridled fascination, and turning to her with so much wonder and amazement in his eyes. And she could only smile, as well as bite down on her bottom lip at how adorable he looked.

“Were you the one who saved me? Back in the sea, on the ship…” The young woman asked out of nowhere, unable to hold back the curious questions that had been hounding her to ask them.

Kyōjurō turned his full attention to her then, tilting his head to the side— as if digesting her words— and opening his mouth to speak, only to snap it shut and nod enthusiastically instead. He then pointed to his throat, shaking his head sadly as he made gestures of having something come out of his mouth.

“Do you feel unwell?” She asked, making Kyōjurō shake his head once more.

“You can’t speak?” (Y/n) was rewarded with a nod at that question, which had her frowning— because she could clearly remember her savior speaking to her.

She was sure that it was the same man from her memories, but her heart still sank at the probability that it wasn’t him who’d saved her— since the man in front of her couldn’t speak. Still, she kept an open mind.

“Can you write?” The princess questioned once more, eyeing the pouch that she had put on the seat beside her, and grabbing it so she could fish out the notebook and pencil that she had thrown in there before leaving the palace.

The blond nodded, more than happy to accept the items, before proceeding to write on the parchment. It felt so different from having to write underwater, and his penmanship looked like chicken scratch at best— not that he had much to work with in the first place— but he handed his answer back to her, a bright grin plastered on his face.

He watched her intently, feeling his heart race at how close they were. Their knees were almost touching, and he was close to passing out with her sweet scent ensnaring his senses.

Only, his smile turned into a confused frown when he saw her brows furrow in confusion; watching as she tilted the notebook at an angle.

And it was only then that it sank in, the more he took in the signages that were dotted along the shops that they passed by: he had a completely different writing system from her.

“Is this a foreign language?” His princess asked— making him helplessly nod— as he didn’t even bother to hold back the disappointed expression that crossed his handsome features.

Maybe, he thought, his plan to get a kiss from his princess— all so he could get his voice back— would be more difficult than he thought.

***

It had been six days since Kyōjurō had started to stay at the palace with (Y/n); being introduced to everyone as one of her friends whom had come over for a visit. And it didn’t take long for gossip to circle around about him being one of her suitors.

He didn’t really mind that rumor, as it was true— in a sense. What he didn’t like was that everyone kept badmouthing him, all because he couldn’t speak. They called him a snob for not wanting to talk to anyone, and all of the courtiers branded him as a nuisance— all because he smiled more at the servants and (Y/n), rather than them.

His conversations with (Y/n) were always one-sided, with her slowly opening up to him with each day that passed. It had started with her giving him a tour of the palace grounds, until she introduced him to horseback riding, and— eventually— to her favorite pastime: napping under the wisteria tree at the very end of the grounds.

It was private enough to not be bothered by anyone, and it was also enclosed enough because of the wisteria flowers that provided a suitable curtain to hide them from prying eyes.

She didn’t even know what his name was, but she felt so at ease with him that that little problem was always pushed to the back of her mind whenever they were together. It was as if, when she was with him, all that mattered was him and her.

Her duties took to the backburner of her mind, as she felt herself getting more and more enamored by the young man who could only nod and grin at her words.

He tried to communicate as much as he could with facial expressions, and they were always hilarious— which surprised even herself when she burst out into such an unladylike laugh the day he had made a disgusted face, when she mentioned one of the courtiers in the palace.

“And you know what she told me? That I needed to lose more weight to look pretty. Can you believe the nerve of that woman? I should kick her out,” (Y/n) ranted, her voice taking on an incredulous tone as she poured her frustrations from that morning onto Kyōjurō.

The blond made a face at her— his eyebrows crinkling together and his upper lip curling upwards in a show of disgust at her story, before he adopted a soft smile on his lips.

His eyes took on a much softer hue, and he sighed as he boldly reached out and tipped her chin up so she would look at him— since she had been picking at a wisteria flower that she’d picked up earlier.

When he was sure that he had her full attention, he let go of her chin and tapped the tip of her nose— making her blush at the blatant playfulness. And, as if that wasn’t enough to make her heart race, Kyōjurō framed his own chin with the backs of his fingers— doing the guesture of tapping her nose and framing his face a couple of times, until a flustered giggle escaped his princess’ lips.

“I… I’m pretty?”

Enthusiastically, the blond nodded. Grinning so wide as he settled back against the tree trunk, about to close his eyes when the breath was knocked out of him— as (Y/n) had pounced on him, boldly cupping his face in her hands before pressing her lips against his.

Fiery eyes widened at the move, and his heart skipped so many beats as seconds ticked by. It felt like an eternity had passed before she shyly pulled away from him; opening her eyes and pressing the tips of her fingers against her tingling lips.

(Y/n) couldn’t even believe that she had done such a thing— yet she felt no regrets in her heart. She even found herself trying to fight a smile, as she took in the dumbstruck expression on her beloved’s face.

Kyōjurō floundered around, feeling his own breath escape his mouth in a quiet exhale, as his expression morphed into disbelief— before eventually settling on a beaming grin. “U… UMAI!”

It was going to take way too long of an explanation to get his story across to (Y/n)— judging by the extremely befuddled look on her face— but he pushed that thought aside as he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back into him; wanting to have more of her, now that he’d finally had a taste.

And they lived happily ever after…

Or did they?

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emgkheadcannons · 4 years ago

Text

Vignette Kelly Teaching Em Skin Care

(A little NSFW at the end. But it’s very brief.)

The first time Kelly spends the night at Em’s place he is shocked by what’s in his bathroom, or better yet what there isn’t. He had brought his own products over since he had sensitive skin and didn’t know what the older rapper used, but to see 3-in-1 body wash, and a single bottle of body lotion, was shocking. He had gone in to just set his stuff down, and then continue their day.

Kelly turns to face Em.“For someone who is so careful about what he puts in his body, you don’t really care about your skin.”

Em looked at Kelly super confused. “What?”

“3-in-1 body wash and only body lotion.”

“What’s wrong with a 3-in-1 body wash, and sorry I’m not girly like you and have a million different lotions.”

Kelly straightens his back,and raises to his full height. He is going to have to lecture the hell out of this idiot.

“Okay first skin care is not girly. Everyone has skin. Do you know anyone who doesn’t have skin? No, that’s because everyone has it. Just like everyone has teeth and hair. We take care of those so why not our skin? You need a different moisturizer for your face than the lotion you use for your body, because it is more sensitive and delicate. Next 3-in-1 wash is terrible for the same principle. Body wash is different from face wash, shampoo, and conditioner.”

“I don’t use that on my face.”

“What do you use.”

Em blushes with embarrassment, and picks up the bar of hand soap next to the sink.

“That’s hand soap. You use hand soap for your face.”

“I don’t see what the problem is.” Em is starting to get pissed. Who the hell does Kelly think he is telling him what to do? He has been doing this for years without a problem.

“I’m not saying you need to have a beauty guru level skin care regiment, but you need to take care of your skin. You know how you always say my skin is so soft, and stuff this is why.”

“What’s a beauty guru?”

“Okay, obviously nobody has told you about this, so I guess I will. Let me grab some stuff first.”

Em now wonders what he hasn’t been told about soap.

Kelly grabs the bag he brought into the bathroom, and begins to unpack it. There is so much stuff in it, most of which Em can’t identify.

“Why do you have so many nail clippers and what's all this other stuff?” Em asks as he opens a small case.

Kelly looks over to see what he is talking about. “Oh that’s my manicure set.”

“Why do you have a manicure set?”

“I actually have two. One for my hands and the other is for my feet. They are to keep my hands and nails healthy and looking good. See.” Kelly says as he holds his hands up. “I also have cuticle butter, hand scrub, and creams for my hands, and feet.” Kelly starts to pull out some small black containers. Picking one up Em reads the label, ‘Helping Hands’. “That stuff is great during the winter. Here try some.”

Kelly grabs the pot, twists the cap off, scoops some of the lotion up, and puts it on Em’s hand. “Now rub it in.”

Em does as he is told, and the stuff does feel nice.

“Oh this is dream cream. It’s my favorite body lotion.” Kelly takes out another black container placing it on the counter.

Once everything is unpacked, Kelly has three piles.

“Okay let's start with soap. So hand or body soaps are meant to scrub away dirts and oils. Face soaps or wash is to only remove the dirt, but leave the healthy oils your skin needs. Body soap really dries out the skin on your face. So basically you need a soap for your face and one for your body.”

Em nods along. He remembers buying all three of his daughters face wash. “Okay, that makes sense. Why do you have so many though?”

“They do different things or smell different. Like I have three face washes. One is for everyday. I use it in the morning and at night. This one is for when I am having skin problems. And the last one is for when I have to wear makeup or something.”

Kelly then points to two more black containers, one of which had something like a bumble bee on top of it. “These are my body scrubs. The bee looking like thing is a solid body scrub, and the two pots have a liquid scrub. They are used to exfoliate, basically they remove dead skin. The rest are just body soaps, that smell different. All you really need is a good face wash and a nice soap. You can try some of mine to see if there are any you like, but let's talk about moisturizers.”

Kelly moves over to the next group.

“Okay so you got to try Helping Hands, feel how soft they are.” Em does as Kelly says, and notices that his hands do feel softer.

“Okay so it’s a nice lotion, why would I need so many?”

“The same reason you need different soaps for your face and body. Different lotions do different things. Helping Hands is specifically for dry, chapped hands. You don’t need to use it everywhere that would be a waste. Same with your face moisturizer. You just need it for your face, and can use a normal lotion for the rest of your body.”

Em looks at Kelly then back down at all the stuff littering his bathroom counter, before looking back up. “So what do I need then?”

A smile breaks out across Kelly’s face. “Easy, a soap and lotion for both your face and body, and a separate shampoo and conditioner. That’s it.”

Em goes through, smelling and testing the items Kelly laid out, and decided on a few he wouldn’t mind trying.

“What’s all the other stuff for?” Em gestures to the items Kelly didn’t go over.

“Oh, that’s just different masks, creams, serums, balm, and stuff.”

Em nods his head at the reply and moves back to the bedroom.

Kelly begins to organise and puts the rest of his stuff back in his bag for later, when an idea hits him. Em has a large bathroom, with a large shower, and a large tub. They could have a lot of fun in here.

Kelly exits the bathroom, thinking about what he packed, and what they could do tonight.

******

Kelly’s opportunity happens after dinner, when Em gets a phone call from Paul about an upcoming interview. Kelly heads upstairs and into the bathroom.

Em finishes up his phone call, and starts to look for Kelly. He heads to his bedroom and sees a trail of clothes from the doorway leading to the bathroom, and he hears water running.

As Em pushes the door open he spots Kelly. His boyfriend is lounging against the side of his tub, with wisps of steam floating into the air. He can also smell something sweet, like vanilla. As he gets closer, he notices the water is an iridescent milky white color, and is opaque enough to hide Kelly’s lower body.

“Wanna join me? The water is nice and warm.” Kelly asks with a sultry smile.

Em wastes no time getting out of his clothes but hesitates getting into the bath. Kelly is leaning against one end with his legs out in front of him.

Kelly gestures to his lap. He wants Em to sit between his legs. Em finds himself really liking this idea.

He slowly climbs into the tub and settles between the younger rapper’s legs. The taller man wraps his arms around Em pulling him flush against his chest.

Feeling the blond pressed against the length of his body, makes Em blush darken. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands or at all really. He is usually the one in charge, usually the one behind Kelly, with his dick pressed against Kelly’s ass.

Kelly tilts his head down, putting his lips right by Em’s ear. “Hey it’s fine, just relax.”

A shiver runs up Em’s spine, and Kelly begins to rub up and down his arms. Em decides to listen to the younger man and relaxes into the warm body behind him.

“I’m going to show you how fun skin care can be.”

******

The next morning both of them are tired and sore, but their skin looks and feels great.

“Good morning.” Kelly says while yawning.

“Good morning, Princess.” Em greets Kelly, followed by a kiss.

“Any plans for today?” Kelly asks.

“Nothing set in stone, why?”

“Was thinking we should go shopping and pick you up some of your own skin care stuff.”

Em thinks about it, and yeah he needs his own stuff. “Sure need to grab a few things anyways.”

#emgk

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fantastic-bby · 5 years ago

Text

The Scar of an Old Friend

Pairing: Seonghwa x Hongjoong

Word count: 4.2k

Genre: Fluff, a bit of angst, Pixie!Hongjoong, Fairy!Seonghwa

Summary: Seonghwa has a scar on his arm left behind by an accident that happened years before with a pixie friend. When Hongjoong abandons Seonghwa after the accident, the fairy lives the next few years hating his old friend. But, when they meet by chance, Hongjoong confesses his regret for doing so and Seonghwa realises that the scar left by Hongjoong has long healed...

The sound of the leaves brushing against each other sent a wave of comfort throughout Seonghwa’s mind. He laid on the branch, his leg dangling off one side and his black hair falling over his brown eyes as he let himself get engulfed by what nature had to offer. But his peace was quickly cut short when a certain fairy came flying towards him.

“Hyung! Hyung!” Mingi excitedly flew up to him, the red iridescence falling from his delicate wings as he did. Seonghwa opened one to look at the younger fairy in question. “Can Yunho and I go to the meadow?” He questioned excitedly.

“You know you can’t go there alone. That’s pixie territory.” Seonghwa hummed out as he closed his eye once again.

“Awww, can’t you come with us? Jongho doesn’t wanna come unless you come too!” The red haired fairy pouted as he flew closer to Seonghwa, his face hovering right above his. “Pleeeeease, hyung.” He clasped his hands together with a pout and put on his best puppy eyes in hopes of convincing the older fairy to accompany - more like supervise - them to the meadow.

Seonghwa opened his eyes and let out a sigh when he saw Mingi’s eyes. He knew better than to say no. They would end up going without him and he would get in trouble for not going with them to keep them safe.

“Fine.” He nodded and sat up. “But, if anything happens, you have to take the blame because I’m tired of Elder Fae always scolding me whenever you guys get hurt.” He quickly added with a glare. Mingi nodded,

“I promise you won’t get in trouble!” He laughed as he flew away, making a bee line into the tree trunk of their shared home. Seonghwa looked up at the tree he was sitting on,

"Tell me your story another time, okay?" He smiled as he put his hand on the tree trunk, a soft wind blowing past him. The wind carried a whisper, a reply from the tree to reassure Seonghwa that it wasn't upset he had to leave.

Seonghwa got off of the branch and stretched his arms and translucent white wings out. He paused his stretch to lower his arm and look at the long, deep scar that ran down the length of his arm - the scar of an old friend that was still healing even after many years.

He sighed when he recalled the memory before jumping off of the branch and flying himself into the tree trunk to see Yunho and Mingi excitedly chattering with each other while they prepared for their journey to the meadow.

"Hyung, is it a good idea to take them to the meadow?" Jongho's voice spoke up from behind Seonghwa. He turned around to face the brown haired fairy who had concern painted on his features.

"I don't think it's a good idea, but when do they ever listen to me?" Seonghwa chuckles. "If I don't go and something happens to them, I'll regret it."

Jongho kept his concerned expression, knowing very well that Seonghwa was right. Mingi and Yunho weren't exactly the best listeners to Seonghwa, but they weren't bad fairies. They were just hyperactive and that factor was one of the many reasons that would get Seonghwa in trouble.

It wasn't his fault, they all knew that. But since he was the eldest fairy that lived with them, he was the one who would usually carry the scolding for not watching the younger fairies.

"Lets go!" Yunho excitedly called out to Seonghwa and Jongho, his hand running through his bright blue hair before he and Mingi flew out of the tree trunk. Seonghwa turned to Jongho, sharing a look before the two followed.

The meadow wasn't too far away from the Tree Village, but it had an amazing view. All four of them loved nature and Seonghwa had to admit that even though this trip could be dangerous, he was glad that they were able to explore a bit. The sight of an old tree caused the four of them to stop.

"Woah! This tree is huge!" Yunho exclaimed as he flew up the trunk. The tree was way bigger than any of the trees in their village. Seonghwa lowered himself until he was hovering above the roots, his eyes scanning the old bark.

"This tree is super old too." He pointed out when he flew into the tree hollow, the many, many rings on the inside of the tree telling its age.

A breeze blew past them, sending shivers throughout their bodies. Seonghwa frowned as he peeked his head out of the hollow, his entire body tensing when he listened to the tree's whisper.

"We're in pixie territory." Seonghwa sucked a breath in through his teeth and pulled all of them into the hollow. "Let us hide here for a while, dear tree." He begged softly when the sound of a group of pixies approaching filled their ears and echoed inside the tree.

The four of them huddled further into the tree, Seonghwa and Jongho in front of Yunho and Mingi with their arms out, shielding the two taller fairies.

A breeze blew into the opening of the tree trunk, the breeze blowing a whisper into their ears the closer the sound of the pixies got.

They know you're here

Seonghwa's breath hitched in his throat, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He knew that if the pixies came in, his first instinct would be to protect his brothers.

"Knock, knock." A mischievous voice darkly chuckled, a hand gripping the edge of the tree hollow and a silver haired head poked in; a face that was all too familiar to Seonghwa. "What are fairies doing in our territory?" The pixie smirked as another three more pixies moved beside him, blocking the opening to the tree hollow.

"Last I checked, fairies weren't allowed in pixie territory." The lavender hair pixie chuckled.

"What do you think we should do with them?" The black haired pixie mocked thought, a green stripe of hair sitting among the black.

"Well, the logical thing to do is to take them to Elder Pixx." The bright blond pixie smirked, "But we don't feel like doing that."

"Get out of the tree, fairies." The silver haired pixie snapped as the other pixies moved aside.

"What are you going to do to us?" Seonghwa questioned, doing his best to maintain his composure in an attempt to intimidate them. Hah, intimidate a pixie? He could honestly only dream.

"Your little fairy minds won't even be able to imagine what we're going to do to you." The silver fairy chuckled darkly.

"If you don't move on your own, we'll force you out." The lavender haired pixie sneered. Seonghwa turned his head to Jongho who had his jaw clenched when he turned to face Seonghwa. He nodded hesitantly and the four of them moved out slowly, Seonghwa and Jongho still on the defensive side.

"We'll be fine." Seonghwa wasn't sure whether he believed himself, but he knew the younger fairies needed it.

"Are you sure about that?" The silver haired pixie leaned down, his face inches away from Seonghwa. "Come on, boys. Let's show these fairies how pixies have fun." He smirked as he moved away. The pixies listened to the silver haired pixie, seemingly as though he was their leader, and brought the fairies towards the forest.

“If anything happens to us, won’t your elders punish you?” Seonghwa questioned in an attempt to try and talk them out of whatever they had planned for the fairies.

“We will, but their punishments suck.” The silver hair pixie shrugged.

“That’s only because we get punished for your actions, hyung.” The blond pixie grumbled out.

“Shut it.” The silver hair pixie snapped at him.

"Yeah, remember when you snuck onto fairy territory and we got punished for not watching you?" The lavender haired pixie argued. Seonghwa's eyes widened,

"You came into fairy territory?" He questioned, a light bulb popping into his mind when he realised how he could turn the situation around. "Shouldn't we be messing with you for coming into our territory?" Seonghwa chuckled, his hesitation starting to diminish.

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it? Sprinkle fairy dust on me?" The pixie snickered at Seonghwa.

"We fairies can do more than you pixies think we can." Seonghwa's tone darkened.

"Like what?" He turned around and stared straight into Seonghwa's eyes, his own eyes challenging him. The pixies stopped moving when their leader did, awaiting his next move.

What the silver haired pixie wasn't expecting was for Seonghwa's chocolate brown eyes to turn a bright green. The air around them became harsh, blowing a strong gust of wind as the tree branches started to croak.

The pixies looked around frantically as the weather only seemed to grow harsher. The fairies, on the other hand, were well aware of how strong Seonghwa was, their hearts full of relief as they watched the older fairy use his magic. The hatred in his heart that he had for the pixie burned, heightening his abilities.

Vines snapped out of the trees and wrapped around the pixies, all of them letting out yelps of shock and fear as they were left bound and helpless.

"Don't fuck with fairies." Seonghwa warned as the green of his eyes seemed to grow more and more intense. The silver haired pixie stared at him with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find a way to respond, his mind too overcome with fear.

The pixies watched as the fairies flew off, still bound by the vines.

"Hyung, that was so cool!" Mingi smiled in awe once they were a safe distance from the tied up pixies.

"Yeah! You saved our asses! Imagine if you didn't come with us." Yunho laughed as they began heading back to their home.

"If I didn't come along, you probably would've been beaten up." Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at the two, "Now, do you understand why I don't let you guys go around on your own? You could get hurt or you could encounter pixies as mean as those were." He scolded the younger fairies.

Yunho and Mingi took his scolding, sheepishly smiling before nodding.

"We promise we won't go anywhere without letting you know." Mingi beamed. Seonghwa smiled at him and nodded.

"I know you won't. I trust you guys." He chuckled and pulled all three of them into a hug, "And I know you're more scared of Jongho than you are of me, so you won't do anything too dumb." He joked, ruffling the hair of the taller fairies.

The fairies flew back to their home, quickly being greeted by Elder Fae hovering outside of their home with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Where have you been?” She angrily questioned, her golden hair falling over her shoulders, gold iridescence twinkling off of her wings.

“We-” Jongho started but Seonghwa quickly cut him off,

“I took them to the meadow.” He flew in front of them, gesturing his head into their home. The three of them nodded silently and followed his request, Jongho stopping for a moment to give him a questioning look. Seonghwa gave him a nod of reassurement and the younger fairy obliged.

“The meadow? Pixie territory?” Elder Fae squinted her eyes, “You know very well that the pixies are mischievous and that they don’t like fairies in their meadow. Why would you bring the rest of them with you?” She scolded him.

“The other fairies wanted to explore, so I brought them there.” He shrugged. Elder Fae let out a groan and her hands flew to her head to rub her temples.

“Seonghwa, I know you can’t say no to them, but you could’ve put them in danger.” She sighed. “They could’ve been hurt and you would be at fault. Do you want that?” She questioned. Seonghwa let out a sigh as he turned his gaze away from her. “You know that I don’t scold you for no reason, and I saw the trees. You used your magic against pixies, didn’t you?”

Seonghwa nodded, “Only because they threatened us first. I can’t let them hurt Yunho, Mingi and Jongho.”

“Using your powers against pixies, they might try and cause another fight. You should’ve called me for help. I gave you the ability to call me because I put you in charge.” Elder Fae’s tone softened, “You have to keep these fairies safe, Seonghwa.”

“Sorry, Elder Fae.” He muttered out. He didn’t hate her, he really didn’t. He hated that she put so much responsibility onto his shoulders just because he was older than the other fairies. He didn’t like that he was the one expected to watch over them. He wanted to be able to let loose like they were, but he wasn’t.

Elder Fae put too much trust onto him for him to let himself go every once in a while. Seonghwa had to be responsible every single second out of fear of something happening to the others. But, of course, he knew they wouldn’t do anything too irresponsible. They just had a tendency to explore certain parts of the forest that held hostile creatures.

“Next time something like this happens again, I might have to rethink my decision about you being in charge.” She sighed out before flying away. Seonghwa watched as she did, letting out a soft sigh.

Mingi's head poked out of their home to Seonghwa with a frown on his face,

"Why did you take the blame? We were the ones who dragged you out?" He questioned.

"I used my magic against the pixies. If I told her that you were the ones who got dragged me out, you would've gotten a worse scolding." The corner of Seonghwa's lips lifted slightly, "I'll be fine. I just need to have some time to myself. If I'm not back by dinner, just eat without me." He muttered out, waving at his friend before flying off.

Seonghwa needed to clear his head desperately. He knew those brown eyes all too well from a pixie he had spent years trying to forget. A pixie that abandoned him when he needed him most; Kim Hongjoong. The pixie who gave him the very scar on his arm.

»»————-　　————-««

"How foolish of you! You know better than to fight the fairies!" Elder Pixx boomed. "I've told you many times, Hongjoong. Never underestimate fairies!" He scolded, his voice loud and stern. "What would've happened if Lisa wasn't flying through the forest? You would've been stuck there for longer! Not just you, you got Yeosang, Wooyoung and San in danger as well!"

Hongjoong was kneeled in front of the elder and for the first time, felt guilty for bringing his friends along with him. He was known throughout the Pixie Den as a stubborn troublemaker. He was meaner to everyone except his friends; he actually made it his priority to make sure they were safe - a promise he had previously broken and was bent on making sure he wouldn’t break it again.

This time, he had actually put them in danger. What would've happened had that fairy not spared them? He had never actually seen a fairy use their magic aggressively firsthand. Now that he had, he felt guilty that he was the reason Yeosang, Wooyoung and San got tangled up with him.

"Are you even listening to me?!" Elder Pixx yelled, causing Hongjoong to look up at him with the same empty eyes that he had always looked at him with. "One more irresponsible action and I'll banish you from the den! Now, get out!"

Hongjoong stood up and flew out of the elder's home, quickly being greeted by his three friends.

"Are you okay, hyung?" San questioned immediately, his black hair falling over his eyes.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I got you into this. I need to take a breather." Hongjoong muttered out before flying away from the three. They exchanged worried looks but knew better than to follow him after he had just received a scolding from Elder Pixx.

To his friends, Hongjoong was troubled, yes. But he wasn't what he portrayed himself to be. He was kinder on the inside, warmer, and somewhere deep inside his heart, he had the potential to show his hidden side. The three of them had seen both sides of Hongjoong and they refused to leave him alone, knowing that if they didn’t stay with him, he would’ve been worse.

Hongjoong was too much of a hardhead to change how he already was. He hated Elder Pixx and he refused to follow his orders, but he couldn’t risk his home in Pixie Den. He let his wings carry him higher than pixies would usually go, flying out above the trees and far from the den. He really needed some time to think about it.

He flew towards the tree that stood right in the middle of pixie and fairy territory, somewhere he could be far away from both winged species. He didn’t have the energy to interact with anyone right now. He just wanted to be alone with his own thoughts as he tried to figure out what he could do next. One more stupid idea and he would get banished.

Hongjoong sat himself on one of the branches, his legs hanging off of the sides as he looked up at the rising moon. He knew he was small. He knew the world was way bigger than the world he knew, and he wondered what it would’ve been like had he been born a different creature.

“Didn’t expect to see you up here.” A voice spoke up from behind him. He snapped his head around to see the same fairy from before, his brown eyes looking at him curiously. Hongjoong’s body tensed when he saw him, his mind going into defensive mode as he turned back around.

“Yeah, well, a lot of things are what you expect.” He muttered out coldly. Seonghwa raised a brow at his reply. He felt a sense of pride at that. The hatred that had been bubbling inside of him ever since the last time he had seen Hongjoong was happy that he seemed upset, but at the same time, he felt sympathy for him from the soft spot left inside of his heart.

“You’re not exactly wrong.” Seonghwa muttered out as he sat himself on the branch beside him. “So, tell me, what about getting into trouble excites you?” He questioned. Hongjoong glanced at him and decided to just ignore the question. Seonghwa glanced over as well, slightly surprised that there was no snarky comeback.

The two sat in silence, both of them deciding against questioning why they were at a spot in between both territories. Seonghwa could tell there was something bugging Hongjoong and Hongjoong could tell that Seonghwa probably had some troubles he was going through as well. He also refrained from bringing up their past, deciding that pretending he didn’t know the fairy was a safer option.

They watched as the moon slowly rose higher and higher into the sky, the moonlight sending slivers of light through the gaps of the leaves and branches. Seonghwa turned to Hongjoong, his heart heavy when Hongjoong had never brought up their past. Had Seonghwa’s appearance changed that much throughout their time apart? Maybe Hongjoong had long forgotten the fairy.

“Stop staring at me, fairy.” Hongjoong snapped as he turned to look at Seonghwa. Seonghwa muttered out a ‘sorry’ before turning back to the sky, relieved that the dark of the night was covering his blush. He stared at Seonghwa, torn between dropping or keeping up his act for longer.

“Tell me something about yourself.” Seonghwa requested, his eyes moving back to Hongjoong to see him blinking a few times as he thought about it. Hongjoong let out a sigh and turned back to the moon,

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a pixie.” He muttered out. Seonghwa turned his full attention to the pixie. “Or that I could take back what I did all those years ago.” He sighed out, feeling the familiar heart wrenching feeling every time he thought about the first time he got into trouble.

Hongjoong remembers the first time he pissed off Elder Pixx so vividly. He was so upset with the way Elder Pixx had treated Wooyoung that he went and did something worse to take the burden off of Wooyoung’s shoulders. That was the first time he had actually purposefully done something punishable to both save Wooyoung and make Elder Pixx upset.

That whole affair just led Hongjoong to making more trouble, but every time he would do something, Elder Pixx would punish Yeosang, Wooyoung and San instead. That wasn’t what he wanted, so he kept getting into trouble. Not exactly the best idea, but Hongjoong stopped caring after a while.

He had forgotten most of the things that he had done, but one thing he never forgot was what he did to Seonghwa. Hongjoong glanced over at the fairy who was looking up into the sky, saddened that he didn’t seem to remember him, but glad at the same time. He didn’t want Seonghwa to carry that terrible pain in his heart.

“What was the worst thing you did?” Seonghwa questioned, making the pixie turn his full attention to him. He saw the look Seonghwa was giving him and he knew. He knew Seonghwa never forgot and he could feel the guilt in his heart starting to become unbearable.

“I abandoned you, hyung.” Hongjoong whispered shakily. Seonghwa sucked in a breath, his chest tightening at the pixie’s words. He watched as Hongjoong’s eyes glossed over and his lip started to tremble. “You were hurt and I left you because I was scared. I promised you I would come back, but I-I never did.” Hongjoong hung his head lower, a tear rolling down his cheek and dripping onto the tree branch.

“You remember me.” Was the only thing Seonghwa could muster out. Hongjoong nodded glumly.

“I never forgot about you, hyung.” He confessed as more tears started to make their way down his face. “B-But, I could never build up the courage to tell you how sorry I am.” He turned to Seonghwa, his brown eyes bloodshot and filled with tears. “I-I was a c-coward - because of that, I broke our bond.” Hongjoong looked away from the fairy in shame, unable to form anymore coherent words as he let out sobs and buried his face in his knees.

Seonghwa watched the pixie breakdown. Of course, he had spent many years resenting Hongjoong for leaving him, but the soft spot that Hongjoong had left in the fairy’s heart never faded. Seonghwa jumped in front of Hongjoong and crouched down in front of him, pulling the pixie into a hug.

Hongjoong immediately welcomed his embrace, crying onto the fairy’s shoulder while choking out apologies and sobs. Seonghwa ran his hand up and down the pixie’s back, whispering softly to soothe him.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa whispered once Hongjoong had calmed down.

“All I could think about when you used your magic was how much hatred was in your eyes.” Hongjoong muttered out softly against Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I knew you recognised me when you used your magic. I was hoping you would have forgotten everything - forgotten me.”

“I could never forget you, Joong. You were my best friend.” He confessed softly, letting his hand stop at Hongjoong’s shoulder to pull away and look into his eyes. “Of course, I hated you for what you did, but, I could never forget you.” He shook his head and cupped the pixie’s face. “As much as I tried to forget you, you were always in my heart.” He wiped away Hongjoong’s tears with his thumbs. “You’re still my best friend, Hongjoong.”

“I’m sorry, hyung.” He apologised once again but Seonghwa shook his head.

“It’s in the past. All that matters is that we’re together now.” He smiled softly. He pulled Hongjoong back into his embrace, letting the pixie rest his head against his chest. Seonghwa’s arms wrapped around his frail state, holding him close to him. Hongjoong’s hand ran along the length of Seonghwa’s arms until he felt the bump of the scar.

His body froze when he felt the scar, sucking a breath in through his teeth as he shifted his head to look up at Seonghwa.

“The scar never faded?” Hongjoong questioned. Seonghwa saw the guilt in Hongjoong’s eyes, his heart immediately aching at the thought that he had lived with so much guilt ever since they had parted ways. “Was it a reminder?”

“The scar carries bad memories, but it also carries our memories.” He hummed softly as he rested his chin atop Hongjoong’s head, gently rocking him back and forth. “I don’t want you to live with any more guilt, Joong. What happened then was an accident. What happened after was a scared child. We are not children anymore, Joong.”

Hongjoong stayed in Seonghwa’s arms for the rest of the night, letting the stars twinkle above them and the moon pass with time. For the first time in many years, Hongjoong felt safe. For the first time, he felt at home once again.

To him, it didn’t matter anymore what would happen back at Pixie Den.

To him - and Seonghwa - it only mattered that they were finally together again.

For the scar left by an old friend had already enough time to heal.

43 notes · View notes

spc4eva · 4 years ago

Text

Mandokar: Chapter Two

Summary: Clan Vizsla returns to the Tribe and Senaar settles into her new life.

Word Count: 15,125

Author Notes: Just some more info about the Anaxian race that I've created!

An offshoot of the Sephi race, removed by generations of evolution based on Anaxes' climate. Appearance: Humanoid, sub-human, differentiated by long pointed ears (longer than most Sephi) which are hyper sensitive to the forests that they dwell in. Skin tends to be tan to dark, though there are a few fairer skinned Anaxians. Sunlight is powerful, despite the forest, which is why the melanin in their skin tends to be strong to act as a buffer when they leave the woods or are in glades. Eye hues range in earth tones, mostly brown, but a few are green. Gold is another color, while a bit rare and considered blessed amongst the people. Royalty almost always has the golden eyes. Hair color is also dark, from jet black to medium brown. Blonde, red, and light brown hair is almost unheard of and incredibly unnatural amongst Anaxians. On average, they get to the same height as humans, but tend to be more slender and willowy. Anaxians eyes work well for the dim lighting of the forest acolves and long nights. They have the ability to see in little to no light, but not utter darkness. Due to their lighter bone structures, Anaxians are quicker and more agile than other races, making for spectacular warriors should they have the inclination. Light footed from years of hunting in their forests, they are exceptionally gifted with stealth and able to fight with acrobatic feats. Despite these abilities, Anaxians have the drawbacks of being more frail than other humanoid races. For their speed and stealth, they are more easily overwhelmed by strength.

Goddess Marks/Tears: markings on the skin of Anaxians which are similar to beauty marks. Rather than be dark, these marks are the size of tears and shaped the same. Sometimes they are also referred to as petals. Each mark is gold, humming with a shimmering iridescence which is contrasted by an Anaxian's dark complexion. Most Anaxians have between 5-10 marks, though those descended of purer bloodline - ie. nobles or royalty - often have more. They are not tattoos and are on an Anaxian from birth. Those that possess a lot of them are considered 'Chosen' by the Goddess, especially if the marks play out in a more purposeful manner than just sporadic petals against the skin, placed randomly. Some Anaxians get more tattooed on them in an attempt to seem more special and it's not uncommon. However, the tattoos don't have the same glow as the natural marks. Often Anaxians will use the tattoos to link their marks together in designs.

Note: Anaxians are not long lived like Sephis. They live 80-100 standard years on average. Anaxians do not reach sexual maturity until 20 years old, taking a little longer to grow through their adolescence into adult bodies.

Anaxians are also not well traveled. They don't like to leave their home planet often. Pure Sephis often call them forest bumpkins, so there's a little love lost between the similar races.

Most of Anaxian culture was inspired by wood elves from Lord of the Rings with a mixture of Celtic heritage.

Inspiration photo for Anaxians (and Sena specifically) is this

Crossposted on AO3

The helmet was more comfortable with the padding, but she wasn't forced to wear it much around the ship with her aliit. Senaar Vizsla. She repeated it numerous times in her head, staring at the ceiling as she cocooned herself in a pile of blankets on the floor. Hux, her buir now, told her not to dwell too deeply on what had happened on Anaxes. He'd said that nothing could be done and carrying that in her heart would just hurt. When she asked about her papa, he explained that he was marching far away, but one day she'd see him again. He taught her the prayer to say every night before bed and that more names would join her papa's, but it was her duty to remember them and love them. Sena was fully committed to becoming Mandalorian, even if she was a bit nervous and frightened by the shock of everything that had happened. Be strong. Papa would be watching and she had to make him proud... buir and ori'vod too.

" Sen'ika ," Paz entreated, drawing her attention as she leered at the ceiling of the ship, hiding in her blankets as if it were a toasty little garrison. Hyperspace was cold, much colder than most of Anaxes' yearly climate. "Come sit over here."

Dragging her blankets with her, helmet nestled against her tummy, she sat beside Paz and eyed what he was working on. Set in front of him was the rifle he had used during their escape from Genmaris. Now, it was in several pieces, he had a cloth and swatches of cotton, many of which were stained with blaster residue. He was cleaning the weapon.

"Have you ever taken one apart before?" Paz inquired lightly, gazing down at her with icy blue eyes. Despite how shockingly pale his eyes were, they were still kind and warm. He had short blonde hair, messy from his helmet, and was probably not much older than her despite his height and fitness.

"I know how to take the slide off of my pistol, but I've never taken it apart like this," Sena admitted, cheeks burning as she wondered if she was severely behind in her knowledge. What if the other children made fun of her? What if she was stupider than kids a lot younger than her? Would her buir disown her? Take the helmet back and tell her to get out?

"Most firearms are the same aside from the coils in buttstocks of rifles and shotguns," Paz eased, sensing the girl's worry. "You will need to know not only how to fire your weapons, but how to clean them and assess any issues you may have while firing. Weapons are our religion, so we must take good care of them to protect our people. Now, let's begin-"

Paz showed her the various pieces of the rifle, the charging handle, the bolt, where cartridges were loading. There were bits of information that were familiar, as there was some overlap from what she knew about her pistol. Having her hands on it, manipulating the pieces, putting them together and taking them apart - everything clicked rather swiftly. The visual and physical method of learning, rather than out of a holobook, took repetition and application. The distraction was greatly appreciated and Sena was keen to prove that she was a quick learner.

They moved onto a blaster, Hux dropping down from the cockpit, cocking his head as Sena cleaned the weapon. "I thought I told you to clean them," he said, directing his attention toward Paz.

"I can help!" Sena insisted quickly, before Paz even had the chance to offer.

"I thought she should begin her lessons," her vod retorted, stiffening under the tart gaze of their buir .

"Teach yes, but don't let her do all the work. I assigned you this task," Hux reminded him duly, looking to Sena next, who jolted erect under his pale gaze. "Let your ori'vod finish the rest. Come along, there are many things you need to learn, ad'ika."

More distractions. Scampering up from her blankets, she followed her buir deeper into the ship and away from Paz as he was left by the armory. This part of the Kote was filled with weights, a pull up bar, a sparring dummy, thick padded mats, and other work out items. " Buyca ." Bucket.

Sena slipped it back on and fiddled with her belt, making certain that her belt was tight enough to keep the extra material from her clothes from tripping her up.

"I am going to test your strength and endurance levels," Hux alerted her. "I know that you had some training in combat."

"A little," Sena confirmed, but knew her knowledge certainly quailed in comparison to Mandalorian standard.

Hux began prattling off exercises. He started with pushups, which weren't too hard. Sena was tiny and her limbs short. She ran around through the woods often and handled her own body weight. Capable of pushups and a few weak pull ups, she hung upside down from the bar like a monkey, braid swaying behind her as her buir remarked quietly to himself. Apparently, she was not too bad off, her excursions outside of the castle leaning well with her heritage as an Anaxian. Small, compact, ready to spring like a viper; she was putty to be molded. Her hands had callouses from where she'd climbed trees, tearing the soft palms and pads. Her feet were rough from trolloping barefoot, which would ease the pain of wearing boots and the callouses that would form on top of her soles.

And the girl could run. Around the drill shed floor, without reprieve, puffing out of her vocoder and using the boxes as obstacles. The original doubt that Hux had about taking a princess in was vanishing. Even if she might feel a little out of place amongst the Mandalorians due to her upbringing, Ardryll had not lied about her being well suited for training. The right disposition could be developed and she still had many years ahead of her before she would become a hunter. Most of all, the girl was eager to prove herself, hanging onto every word that came out of Hux's vocoder, the analyzer picking up the earnesty and excitement in her voice.

They had five more days on the ship before they were to touch down on Vorpa'ya and rejoin the Tribe. Even if the child was tired, she got up early and helped out as much as she could. It was plain she didn't know how to do many mundane tasks, given that servants had done this for her during the course of her short life. The Vizslas were patient with her, having to teach her how to turn a burner on, how to properly fold her clothes, how to wash them, how to tidy up after herself, how to be more considerate of those she was sharing space with. Hux was thankful they had the ship to do this on, glaringly aware that the girl would be tossed right into training with peers of a similar age and set before the Council before the Tribe welcomed her.

Hux's nerves faded, glancing fondly over in the direction of the plum helmet as the child bent over with his son, trying to stitch together where they had cut up her shirt in an attempt to take it in so it wasn't so baggy. Her fingers quaked and she gasped again, pricking her thumb for the umpteenth time. Despite fussing at his son before, Paz took to the girl like a womp rat to filth and was thrilled to have someone to take under his wing. It was difficult not to and Hux grudgingly admitted that to himself often at the kid's heart. She didn't give up. Settling back in his spot by the table, he wondered what Sova would have thought of the girl.

She would have loved her, he reasoned silently. Anaxes was gone. Having turned the news on in the cockpit long enough to hear about the sweeping of the Empire through the galaxy, his insides had gone cold when he saw the information regarding Anaxes. After resisting the Empire, there was a reactor failure in one of the shipyards that detonated a stockpile of hypermatter. Whether this was accidental or the locals had decided that they wouldn't allow for Anaxes to be used as a pivotal anchor point, Hux could only speculate. All that remained of the planet was an asteroid belt, wiping away the beautiful forests that Genmaris had been tucked along. As far as anyone was concerned, the Anaxian princess had been on the planet during the cataclysm.

Her anonymity was more important now. Her long ears and Goddess Tears would be easily recognizable.

Damn Jetii, you knew. You knew all along what was coming and how she'd have to be hidden , Hux cursed. Originally, he had been vexed by the arrangement, held by his debt to the Jedi. Take a princess and make her Mandalorian? He'd scoffed at the idea, but knew in his heart he couldn't abandon a child to an abysmal fate. There had been many others who had likely died on Anaxes, but Hux couldn't have saved them all. At least one would live to have a family and he could have a hand in raising her. Paz had already detailed that the little bird had attacked a trooper like a rabid massiff, flying out from the shadows and puncturing the small exposed bit of his throat. While still clumsy, the girl had managed to buy Paz time and kill the soldier. Potential . The girl had a lot of potential.

That potential was shadowed by her naiveness, but she'd grow wiser with age.

"I look lumpy," Sena had her shirt on, the poor stitching bunching up around her midsection and zigzagging where she'd not kept the line straight.

"Could use some work," Paz admitted honestly, pinching at the fabric to attempt to tug the bundling seams down. "Don't worry, there will be clothes that fit you amongst the Tribe. You'll also get some leather beskar'gam , which we'll put the jai'galaar eyes on."

Jai'galaar eyes or shriek-hawk eyes were the original clan sigil of the Vizslas. It had been used for the Death Watch in the more recent years, disparaged and spat upon by many other Mandalorians for the Sith that Hux's brother Pre had unleashed on their home world. Originally, Hux had helped try to retake Mandalore, before realizing how wrong he had been about forcing the Resol'nare on people who wanted to live peacefully. His own commitment did not circumvent how sacred he held the lives of Mandalorians, even if they were considered dar'manda . Pre had not agreed, saying that the dar'manda would submit or die.

After being spared by the Jetii , Arydryll, he removed the blue and white paint of the Death Watch and returned home to his son, uprooting their life and moving amongst the Tribe where they were accepted with open arms under the condition that they did not remove their helmets. This dedication to the Resol'nare attracted him; the ideal lifestyle he had hoped for all of Mandalore. Yet, he knew their little covert was one of few and he cherished what they had found. Here, he could live as he wished, but without forcing it on those who did not possess the same dedication to the Resol'nare. Hux did not want glory or to partake in the fight against the Empire, he desperately wanted peace. Here, Paz would be able to learn and supply for his people. There were always threats, as being Mandalorian came with its own clauses, but the covert had escape plans if the need for relocation arose.

" Sen'ika , go work on your combat drills on the practice shed floor," Hux thrummed eventually as the girl continued to fiddle with her awkwardly sewn clothes.

"Yes, buir ," she answered obediently, trotting off without needing to be asked again.

Paz tilted his helmet, staring over at his father. Questioning.

Once the child was safely out of earshot, he let out a low sigh. "We will be landing soon and you know what'll happen. The Council will want to meet her and then introduce her to the Tribe," the man started, earning a nod of comprehension. "We will not be telling them where she is from."

"We are going to lie to the Tribe?" Paz asked, voice hitching in disdain.

"No, we are going to omit information. The less people that know who she was and where she is from means the Tribe shall be safer. Anaxes is nothing but rubble and asteroids. No one shall see her face aside from us until she marries and by that point, no one will be looking for her. Until then, it is for the Tribe's best interest that we are as nondescript as possible in regards to her heritage."

"Understood... Have you discussed this with, vod'ika ?"

"Yes, she fully comprehends the importance of being ambiguous with the Tribe. As far as they know, she's from Naboo."

"A little Naboo child who can jump and do acrobats better than the rest of them?" Paz pointed out, harping upon the natural gifts lended to her from being Anaxian.

"It explains her accent and education. They will not start her training out too difficult, as they'll want to test her to get a better idea of what age group to place her with. She still has a lot to learn in order to be as well prepared as others her age."

"Hm," Paz hummed in disagreement. "Maybe in Mando'a and hand to hand combat, but she knows how to hold her own. The others will come quickly enough."

"Keep a close eye on her. There will be an adjustment period, even if she is doing well with just the both of us," Hux warned. In the privacy of the Kote , she felt comfortable with her new clan. Amongst the Tribe, she'd be faced with unfamiliar helms, various trials, and an entirely new setting. He worried how she would react, that the comforting embrace of the ship being ripped away from her might cause her to falter. It was all she had come to know after leaving her home world and acknowledging her past life was dead. Even the most resilient children needed time to recover and whilst she was putting on a brave face, it would only take one misstep for her emotions to finally catch up with the swift pace she had set. Hux was expecting a breakdown of enormous proportions in the coming days.

"Of course, she's my vod'ika . I'll not let anything happen to her," Paz swore, the oath so deep and intended that Hux smiled. This was the Way.

Vorpa'ya was coated in lolling hills rustling with tall green grass. Not a tree in sight, the plains spreading onward, and the sun pelting down across the landscape to catch the glimmering shift of the wind through the grass. So open and exposed, so strange and unfamiliar as large brown herbivores meandered the grass. They had four pronged horns that cradled their faces, mooing quietly as they gnawed on the vegetation and trotted along. Despite the sun's glare, the temperature was mild and the wind chased away any discomfort the sun's smile might provide.

Dome shaped homes littered the largest hill, cresting upon it like little green dimples. The steel had been thatched with grass, which grew tall and swooned in the wind. From above, the houses would be impossible to discern from the rest of the rolling land of Vorpa'ya. Between the homes, the people milled around - the Tribe. Beskar helmets painted in various hues, visors shifting between T and Y-shaped, and daily life gliding forward, seemingly untouched by the war that ravaged the galaxy. The people were not ignorant to it, as each Mandalorian donned at least three weapons a piece, the hunters even more, but they were careful, meticulous, and on guard. Any day, their little village could be disrupted and they were prepared to fight and escort the children far away to relocate the covert.

Following awkwardly between Paz and Hux, Sena's head swiveled around. Visors tilted toward her, noticing the new bucket amongst their Tribe, and greeted her aliit in kind with, " Su cuy'gar " and " Su'cuy " from a few very small children who did not wear helmets. Even if this was not the comforting forest, Sena's heart burned in her chest, warmed by the atmosphere, and she smiled stupidly beneath her helmet as she offered a few little waves to children running underfoot. Some attacked Paz, forcing the trio to stop as a child collided with her shins.

"Hello," Sena chimed, looking down into the bright blue eyes of a twi'lek boy.

"You're new! Who're you? I like your bucket. It's a pretty color," the boy was no more than five and tugging at her trousers.

"My name is Senaar," she bent down toward the grabby hands and picked him up, a little surprised by how much he weighed. She'd already committed, so she huffed him up onto her hip and let him tug lightly on her long, black braid. "What's your name?"

"Zim!" he squealed, palming her helmet and pushing his brow against hers. Sena knew that this was a keldable kiss and was exchanged between family and lovers, but didn't know what to do when a child was doing that to her. The big blue eyes opened, pinning her reproachfully, and he butted her more forcefully - demanding reciprocation.

"Bonk," Sena muttered, offering him a small headbutt.

Zim giggled delightedly.

"Run along now, ade. Lalli is undoubtedly looking for you little womp rats," Hux scolded, but there was no spice or menace in his voice.

" Sen'ori , come play with us later?" Zim asked quickly, knowing the moments he had with her were numbered to the second.

"Uhm," she was bending down to put Zim back on his feet. "If it's allowed..."

Paz gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "I can show you the town and nursery later," he told her, Zim galloping off with the other younglings before they were allowed to continue their passage amongst the covert. "Do you have a lot of experience with children?"

Her cheeks burned and she shook her head. "Not really. There weren't that many kids around... there. And if there were I wasn't really allowed near them. Not because I'd get in trouble, but mostly just social standards. No little cousins or anything like that."

The nicest thing about this village was that there were so many people to talk to, to not treat her like a princess, and estrange her due to her status. People always dreamed about being a princess, but most of her friends had been written in the pages of books. Everyone in Genmaris had been wary about offending her, even though Sena tried not to come off as rude or cold. Just the brush with the children made her ecstatic, because she'd never experienced anything like it. Little Zim had forced himself into her arms and stolen two keldable kisses and he barely knew her. What would everyone else be like?

"You'll get the hang of it. Zim was rather taken with you," Paz assured her.

"I hope so. If we have time, I think I would like to go to the nursery," Sena insisted, licking her dry lips beneath her helmet as they approached the largest domed structure, which was located at the epicenter of the camp. Two grand doors were propped open, leading into a cavernous room that pelted warmth. Situated in the center was a circular hearth where pale white blue flames lanced up the rim, stabbing up like daggers toward a range hanging from the ceiling that filtered any smoke and helped contain the immense heat that wafted from the fire. Seats were arranged against the wall, curving into the structure in the form of benches, where dozens of adults could sit around the forge.

Dozens were not there now, only a few. Immediately, her eyes sought out the most imposing of the crowd, a broad Mandalorian in soot black painted armor. He had a hammer in his hand, pausing to watch them carefully, his visor framed by white so that it was distinguishable from the darkness of the rest of the armor. On the other side of the forge was a female with a golden helmet, who appeared to be helping him, the crown fringed with short horns.

"I have not seen that helmet in a long time," the black-painted Mandalorian declared in a deep, resonating voice that echoed throughout the hall like ocean waves crashing against a rocky coastline. "A Foundling, Vizsla?"

" Elek , Smith," her buir stepped forward, brushing his hand along her shoulder and bringing her forth with him. "Senaar."

Uncertain of what to do, since she was no longer a princess, she simply stood there stiffly. Her helmet wasn't reading the Smith's voice very well, coming up as unknown.

"She is Mandalorian?" the Smith inquired, cocking his head slightly.

Sena was getting better at reading body language. Despite the fact she had seen Paz and Hux's faces, they tended to still move around as if they were wearing their helmets. Body language spoke volumes and the questioning turn of a helmet was already ingrained in her brain. She still had to learn the other nuances.

" Cin vhetin ," Hux offered simply. "I have renamed her."

"Welcome to the Tribe, Senaar of Clan Vizsla," the Smith greeted, visor skimming over her frame. "It appears you are in dire need of proper attire. Armorer, could you please assist in getting our new vod outfitted?"

The golden helmeted female stepped forward, bending down slightly to lift Sena's arms and take a few measurements. Her fingers picked at the atrocious stitching that Sena had managed and she murmured quietly to herself. "I should have things that fit you, vod . Come along."

Despite the encouragement from the young woman, she threw her head toward her buir , who gave her a nod. Allowed to follow the Armorer, they entered a back room in the hall. Considerably smaller, but chocked full of supplies to include various ingots of steel, most of durasteel, some of beskar, cloaks, boots, trousers, shirts. This was a supply closet, most of the attire dark and earth toned. A warrior's armor was where their personality was displayed in the colors in which they chose to paint it. She noticed that the Armorer's bucket was not painted, but shimmered gold. Sena wondered what color was beneath hers, but hadn't thought to touch the plum paint.

Pulling a few tops out, the Armorer decided which size would work best and began to create a pile for Sena. Boots, socks, underwear, and gloves were added to the ensemble. Finally, she pulled a few leather vests out, tightening it around Sena's frame to make certain it fit.

"This will be your armor until you can hunt and earn your own," the Armorer explained, adding leather vambraces and leg pads. "Get changed up and I will show you how to adorn them."

Sena was worried that the Armorer would wait nearby, but the female was discreet and stepped out of the supply closet to let Sena change in privacy. Discarding her frumpy, borrowed attire, she swapped it for clothing that fit much better. The pants were a little long still, but at least they didn't require a belt to keep up. The fabric was dark brown like dirt, the neckline curving up to hide her throat entirely. With gloves, knee high boots, a belt, with pouches - she stood there awkwardly trying to figure out what to do with the cuirass.

"Armorer?" she called tentatively, the gold helmet popping back in the doorway at the sound of her name.

"See these here?" the Armorer touched her gloves to the loops on the suit she was now wearing. "The armor attached to these points. Let's begin with the cuisse and greaves," sitting her down on the bench, she began strapping up the leather pads over her thighs and against her shins. "The cuirass or heartplate straps in on its own. Since it is not steel, it'll be a little tighter than beskar. Next, we have your vambraces, which will act as a point of defense. This is the first item you should craft of beskar," she tied the laced, the leather polished, but missing any of the tiny buttons that Hux had on his. "And your pauldrons will be where your clan sigil is displayed. For Vizslas, that is the shriek-hawk eyes."

" Ori'vod said he would help me paint it. Am I allowed to paint the leather? I don't want to get in trouble-" Sena's fretfulness caused her to begin babbling much too quickly, earning a light chuckle from the Armorer.

"The armor is yours now. You are allowed to paint it, though leather does not hold the paint as well as steel. During your training is it very likely to chip and peel," the Armorer informed her kindly. "But you should add the shriek-hawk eyes."

Sena wagged her head in agreement, thanking the Armorer before picking up her bundle of clothes and her extra set of boots. Hugging the supplies to her chest, she trundled out of the supply room to see a few other Mandalorians poking around. People had wandered into the hall. Immediately, they looked toward her, causing her to freeze where she stood and drop a boot. The sole colliding with the ground echoed throughout the cavernous hall and interrupted all conversation. Sena wanted to faint, shaking like a leaf.

Bending down, she battled with the edge of the boot before managing to snag it and toss it back on top of her pile. All but running over to Paz, she tucked toward his side and glanced around anxiously. Sena wasn't shy, but she'd also never seen Mandalorians before the Vizslas and now she was in an entire village of them. On top of that, she wanted to impress them and not make them regret taking her in. The sheer weight of wanting to be as good as possible made her quiver anxiously a bit. Being a princess wouldn't win her any brownie points and as far as they knew, she was from Naboo.

"Much better," Paz said, looking down at her new clothes and armor. "A full Mandalorian now, vod'ika -" he elbowed her lightly, nearly sending all her belongings flying from her hands. "The Elders want to meet you. Let me hold these for you and then we'll get the chance to drop them off at home."

Elders? They sounded mighty important. Sena swallowed the impossibly large lump in her throat and gave Paz a mute nod, passing over her supplies. She gave herself a minor pep talk, rationalizing that this couldn't be anymore intimidating than the vipers in the court. Even if she was unable to see their faces, at least they'd all been rather cordial with her until this point. Direct, straightforward, no beating around the bush. It was so unlike the climate she was accustomed to and while she liked it, she felt woefully ill prepared. Being guarded was so much easier, as was not taking most people at their word.

Arranged in the seats nearest to the forge was a council of seven - to include the Smith who sat amongst them. Most of the members had on armor, though there were two Elders, so old and fragile looking, that they did not don any armor. One was a woman who looked like a shriveled up prune, her skin hanging around her face so loose that it was difficult to tell if there were scars amongst her riddled countenance. Dark brown eyes perceived her, lancing right into her own, despite the visor that obscured Sena's.

The patriarch had a kinder expression, his face not resembling a crinkled up tissue. His skin was dark, sagging pale brows over wise irises. Braids of snow rain down his scalp and around his shoulders, a pink scar dragged along his left cheek like a bolt of lightning on a blackened field.

Four others; a female in cyan armor, a male in orange, a male in crimson, and a male in blue and white. Each one had various markings, designs, and spots differentiating their beskar. From the years of wearing the beskar, there were gouges, scratches, and marks that they wore proudly. Vambraces varied, as did weapons, and despite the fact that people said that all Mandos were the same, modulated bucketheads, Sena saw a huge difference between each of them. Not just because of their varying colors, but the manner in which they had painted designs, or highlighted the scratches with paint to make the scars pop, or the variance in design of the cuirasses as the style had improved over the years.

"Senaar of Clan Vizsla," the patriarch had a husky voice, so deep that it sounded as if it had been dredged out of the depths of Trask's oceans. "The Tribe welcomes you as our newest addition. My name is Rhenx and I am the Alor of the Tribe."

Alor sounded important, but in her nervousness, she couldn't recall if her buir had told her what it meant. "The pleasure is mine, Alor ," she retorted, still a bit too quickly, but was thankful her voice didn't fail her. The least her courtesy training could do for her was not make her sound like an idiot in front of the most important people in the Tribe. They were judging her at that moment, she was certain of it.

Rhenx gave an encouraging smile with pooled heat in her tummy and eased her shoulders. "Polite. Perhaps you could teach your aliit some manners,” he remarked, drawing a few laughs from the Elders flanking him. “Tell me, vod , what is your ambition?”

This was a question she had not been prepped for, the helmet heavy on her head as she tilted slightly to the side and considered him for a moment. Better to think than to spew nonsense. “To have a home and family. To belong ,” the answer was simple and yet it was all she could hope for now that her papa was gone. She’d not have many friends before and she hoped that she could change that here.

“Not of great prowess? To be the best hunter?” Rhenx mused, his questions making her heart thump in her chest as if she were a rabbit being eyed by a wolf.

Had she chosen the wrong words? Shuddering a breath slightly, she knew she couldn’t rescind them without looking stupid. “That too, but those come after,” she retorted, cheeks heated beneath her helmet, thankful for the mask to hide her abysmal expression.

Rhenx bellowed a laugh, making her jump. “Where did you find this one, Vizsla?”

“Naboo.”

Devoting his attention back to her, Rhenx offered another obliging look. “You have had a long journey, vod. We look forward to seeing you excel here. The Tribe is now your family, we take care of one another, protect one another. You will learn our ways and one day provide as your buir provides for you.”

Out of habit and because it felt natural, Sena bowed her head respectfully and took her leave. She couldn’t get beside Paz quickly enough, feet hastened and heart beating erratically until they had left the pressure of the hall. While the meeting with the Elders had gone much more easily than she had been expecting, she had a feeling that they’d be watching for the days to come. Until this point in her life, there had been little expectations of Sena other than to sometimes be at the right place at the right time. Taking advantage as a princess, she’d been able to shirk many duties and get away with mistakes that normal people would have been reprimanded for. There was a tiny bit of regiment in her from the little combat training she did have, but drawing upon her week on the Kote she knew that laziness and indignance would not be tolerated. Even if she was only 13, Sena was not stupid. Her frivolous years until this point were just that; until this point.

Tingling like bad food in the pit of her tummy, she considered what might happen. Part of her was fretful that she wouldn’t fit in and that she’d be detrimentally behind the others. Not in academics, because she’d studied with tutors, but in combat. They literally breathed blaster smoke like oxygen.

“You’re quiet, vod’ika ,” Paz observed as they continued to bask in the glow of the sun, heading to the edge of the town. She saw a few of the cattle grazing in the distance, otherwise just an empty landscape that seemed as if it could fall into the sky. Despite having found it pretty before, Sena was suddenly anxious at how open and scarce it was. Nowhere to hide. No shadows. Just open. “Are you alright?”

“Nervous,” Sena admitted quietly, tearing her eyes away from the moors as they paused in front of a house.

“You did well. If Rhenx likes you then there’s little to worry about,” he assured her, punching the code into the door: 568768. Hissing open, he allowed her in first.

“But I didn’t do or say much,” she pointed out, stepping down into the main dwelling area or karyai . The large chamber was not only the kitchen, but the den, dining area, and communal resting area. She noticed to the flanks of the karyai that there were doors to other rooms, assuming that these were bedrooms and a fresher.

“You weren’t a blubbering mess and you were concise and honest,” Paz countered, shutting the door and ripping his helmet off. Running fingers through his helmet curls, he cocked a smile at her that took the edge off her anxiety. “The rest you’ll have to prove, but you showed tenacity today. Seems your princess training helped a bit.”

“I felt like a blubbering mess.” She still did, clinging desperately to her clothes as if they were her last semblance of sanity. Everything was so glaringly real now. On the ship, she’d been toiling through hyperspace and with the idea of the Tribe. In theory, it all sounded magnificent. In reality, she was terrified of letting the aliit down or the rest of the Tribe. There had been moments in her life where she worried about letting papa down, but she’d never cared much for what others in the court thought of her. They had never been this close of a community. Sena expected if she made one slip up the entire village would know and talk about her behind her back. Call her a dope or an idiot.

“See, this is why I’m glad I only have one brain cell. You’re thinking too much, Sen’ika .”

She jolted, turning her head to look at her vod and let out a pitiful whine. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Were you ever this worried when you were a princess?”

She shook her head.

“Being a princess seems a lot more difficult. Just be yourself… minus the royalty thing, but you catch my drift,” Paz gave her a small pep talk, bending down to affectionately butt heads with her helmet. “Come around here. The guest room is yours now. There’s not much in it, but you can make it your own-” he pressed a hand into her back and began guiding her across the karyai and toward the first door on the left. “We can set up your own code too. Buir likes to snoop.”

They deliberated quietly on a code for the door before Paz set it. It didn’t strike Sena that he also knew her code, but she didn’t mind either way. What did she really need to lock her door for when she was amongst a village of Mandalorians? Just as he’d claimed, the room was nondescript. Decorated simply with a full bed, a dresser, a single night stand with an alarm clock, and a closet. There was a window which gazed out on the fields. The room itself was the size of a powder room in Genmaris Castle and lacked all the refinement and grace of her old chambers. No wood, no warmth from the shimmersilk drapes, nor the stash of holobooks or paperbacks. Putting her belongings on the quilted comforter, she reached up and pulled her helmet off, thankful to finally be able to smell and feel the atmosphere on her face.

“The windows are shaded, so no one can see in,” Paz gestured to the glass. “Class begins at 0500 every morning except weekends. For you, that’ll be at the Junction House. Physical training starts the day, then academia, followed by a changing schedule of marksmanship, weapons courses, and other specialized courses like reconnaissance, basic medical, starship lessons… There’s a lot to list, but it’ll be handed to you piece by piece. Tomorrow you’ll get a holocard with the schedule as it changes week to week. Days end at 1500, with the exception of specialty lessons you might have once or twice a month. After end of day, you’re allowed to do what you want. Some people continue training, some people slack off, others help around the village… Ah, and there’s a Foundling shift roster. Once a week you’ll be tasked with watching the ade . But you’re always allowed to go more if you want.”

Sena listened, nodding as she thought of the other children she’d known who had gone to boarding school. The regiment and timelines seemed similar to that, though the classes being offered here sounded way more exciting. “What do you do after classes?”

“I don’t have as many classes anymore, since I’m older and just completed my First Trial. When you’re 16 you’ll also attempt your Trial if you’re ready,” Paz revealed.

“ 16 ,” Sena gasped in horror. “That’s only 3 cycles away!”

“The Tribe will not make you do your Trial if you’re not ready,” Paz placated, but it had the opposite effect.

“Then I’ll look like an idiot ,” Sena balked.

“You better train hard then. No more running off in the woods, shirking your duties,” he smarted, making her frown.

“There’s not even any forests to explore,” she pointed out disdainfully.

“Good thing. Less distractions,” he grinned, turning back toward the door. “Put your things away and then we’ll go check out the village. Maybe you’ll even get to meet some of your vod before tomorrow.”

Giving her the first real private moment since leaving Anaxes, she sat on the edge of the bed and palmed her eyes. This was life now. A mundane room, no books, no friends, and no clue on how to do anything. That had been obvious on the ship when she’d not realized that there wasn’t a magical clothing fairy who picks up after her. Or that she actually had to make food when she was hungry and not just ask for it. Or that people didn’t like when you were a little messy. Drawing in a shaky breath, she stood up and began putting her clothes away. A new beginning. She really had to give it a try and put her heart into it, because otherwise she had nothing else. Here, she would learn life skills; how to defend herself, to supply for others, to feel a part of a community, and to build a life. Until this point in her life, Sena had never really thought much of the future aside from what she didn’t want to do, like marry Rathas. Each stride was taken day by day and her ambitions were nothing more than mischievous fun to be had around the castle.

Was she upset by the guidance? No, she wasn’t, but it still made her hands shake. There was no papa to defend her choices, to wash away any bad she might’ve done. Hux had already told her that she had to own up to what she did, even if she made a mistake. Honesty was paramount.

After putting her belongings away, she picked her helmet back up and went out into the karyai . Paz held up a piece of… dessert? She didn’t know what it was other than it was layered densely, flat, and appeared to have nuts and fruit in it. “ Uj’alayi ,” he told her, offering her a piece as he scarfed his own down.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d not eaten much since getting off the ship and they’d been eating rations. Real food was such a comforting sight that Sena nearly cried. Biting her tongue to keep herself from being dumbly emotional over cake, she picked up the sticky pastry and enjoyed the sweetness, the syrup, and the kick of spices that warmed her palate and hummed in the back of her throat. The uj’alayi was amazing. However, her gloves were now coated in stickiness. Big eyes turned toward Paz, he chortled as he washed down his cake with water.

“Wash your hands,” he reminded her, as if it were so obvious - which it was - but she hadn’t thought of it just standing there like a dope.

Coming around the counter, she scrubbed her gloves free of the syrup and picked her helmet up from where she’d set it down. “Do we get to eat that everyday?”

“Our teeth would rot right out of our heads,” Paz chortled. “ Uj’alayi is a treat. Bhone delivered this to us - the Elder in the cyan armor.”

“Oh, that was very nice,” Sena remarked, slightly disappointed that the cake was not a part of everyday cuisine. If she were still a princess, she could demand that it was. Here, she’d just look like a petulant brat. “How would I say thank you? Do I send a gift back or-”

“You could just thank her next time you see her. You’d really impress her if you said it in Mando’a. ‘ Vor’e’ would work.”

“ Vor’e ,” she repeated quietly, hoping that Paz hadn’t just told her how to say something rude to the Elder, but knew she had to trust in his guidance. He was one of few people she was somewhat familiar with around these parts and one of even fewer whose face she could see. Taking in a deep breath, filling up her diaphragm as much as she could muster, she turned her eyes to Paz. “Alright! Let’s go do things. Now it’s your turn to show me around.”

“The village isn’t half as large as Genmaris and you knew that place better than the back of your hand. Won’t take too long and then we can stop by the Nursery,” Paz picked up his bucket and slid it back on.

Donning hers, they went back out into the village where Paz escorted her past the huts and toward the big hall that they’d entered first. That was the Foundry - the important place where all the Tribe gathered and also where armor was forged. Radiating out in a spiral where the other important buildings, which were larger than the residential homes. These included the Junction House, the School, and the Nursery - where all the children to teenagers would spend their time during typical academic hours. The Den was where the hunters met up, dropped off what they’d earned, and had a few drinks time willing. The Cache was another supply location, but it was mostly groceries and miscellaneous housing items. There was also a small mechanical hut with spare parts for the few ships the Tribe had and Med-Deck where the doctor lived. Otherwise, training that did not occur in any of the aforementioned locations were done out in the fields surrounding the village.

Circling back around to the Nursery, they spent a little time with the children before dinner, the tykes throwing themselves at her when they found out that Ori’vod Paz now had a sister of his own, leading them to assume that she’d be just as fun and amazing as him. The expectations made her a little dizzy, unable to heft the kids quite like Paz could, but she did manage to tumble on the floor with a few of them. Zim had all but claimed her as his own, demanding headbutts every spare second she had to breathe. So, for those brief couple of hours, she forgot about how nervous she was about her first day of school and meeting the other kids her age. According to Paz, her class was aged from 10-14.

When they returned home, Hux already had food ready on the table, looking at them expectantly as gloves were removed and hands were washed. Plated before her was an orange-red curry, the spices making the hairs in her nose curl. The meat and sauce was piled on top of a grain. Since she was hungry, she began spooning it into her mouth, immediately regretting what she had done as her tongue went taut and began to burn as if both suns of Tatooine were sitting upon it. Eyes watering, it took every ounce of willpower not to spit it back out, the other two Vizslas watching on with absolute mirth and delight as she reached for her drink. That didn’t do any better, because even that was spiced.

Panic began to set in as she panted, blinked over and over again as her chest ached.

“Giving you a heturam? ” Paz grinned to her contempt.

“If you’re hungry, you’ll eat it,” Hux barely looked up from his own food.

She managed to turn over the rice and push some in her mouth which helped with the burn. Neither of her aliit were bothered by how spicy the food was and she wondered if her buir had purposely made hers hotter just to get a kick. By this point, her entire tongue was scorched of any taste buds, allowing her to force down a few more bites as her throat rebelled. How had they gone from uj’cake to this?

Ending the day with a shower, she wandered over to her window, her headband off and her ears finally free. Gazing out, she noticed how the moonlight dappled the grass and turned it blue like back in Genmaris. She thought that it was rather pretty how the wind would tangle its fingers through the tall fronds, scattering them in rippling ethereal waves as the moonlight highlighted them. There were no birds, no songs to look forward to in the morning, but then again… Sena was the bird now. Clinging to the edge of the window, she lingered, wishing to open it but afraid that someone might pass by and see her face.

Papa, I miss you.

---

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

It was the most Goddess awful sound she’d ever heard in her life. Rolling over, she eyed the alarm clock which read 0430, blinking its red lights at her, indicating that it was time to get up. Groaning, she slapped it a few times, trying to get the atrocious noise, that sounded akin to a loth-cat being strangled, to stop. Finally, she found the button and clicked it off, rubbing her eyes as they quickly adjusted to the dim light of the room. Dawn was just on the horizon, but it was not time for sunrise for another couple of hours. Sena hadn’t slept well, her anxiety hitching with the hours and when she finally had shut her eyes, she had only gotten a couple hours.

Changing from her pajamas - a simple pair of leggings and a t-shirt - she traded them for her jumpsuit and began fumbling at the armor. Her fingers weren’t dexterous at it yet and she kept eying the clock, realizing she was taking much longer than she should have. Tying her boots too tight, she grabbed her helmet and ran out of the room, forgetting her headband and having to turn back around to get it. Paz was already about to leave and she was frantic, sprinting to the counter to grab a piece of toast before forcing it down her gullet. Some food was better than none.

Oh, Goddess. Only 5 minutes.

She shoved her helmet on her head and ran out of the house. Her brother was already gone. Whipping her head around she started for the Junction House, her stomach balling up, bile rising in the back of her throat as she slipped into the room just as the bell chimed. Sena was momentarily relieved until she realized she was standing by the door while the rest of the class was neatly arranged in a formation on the padded mats. A pair of adults looked her way, her fingers clasping together in front of her to prevent her from shaking.

“Vizsla?” the male adult, in juniper blue armor inquired, his visor accented with holly red.

“Y-yes, sir,” she stammered, stepping forward after counting 10 students sitting on the ground.

“ K’olar! We haven’t got all morning,” the male informed her, gesturing sharply, his voice powerful and commanding.

Sena stumbled forward and waited expectantly.

“At attention,” he sighed, shaking his head at her.

“Att-” she’d seen guards and knights snap to attention when she and papa passed by them. Comprehending what he was asking, she jolted, heels together, spine erect, chin leveled, and shoulders back.

“And here I was thinking Hux would’ve prepared you for this. Not surprised another Vizsla is lacking brain cells.”

“Give the kid a break. It’s her first day,” the other teacher chimed, a female mando in polished sage green armor. Sena decided she liked this mando better.

“Learn fast or fall hard,” the male snipped.

“As long as you get back up,” Sena said in a very, tiny, tiny voice.

“What did you say?”

She stiffened, realizing she couldn’t just speak when she wanted. This was a very strange concept to her. Only speak when asked a question or given permission. Before, she’d been allowed to blabber to her heart’s content. Now she was afraid.

The female mando chuckled. “Relax, adiik. Thak, cut it out with the theatrics unless you want Hux to find you later and beat you into the wall,” she soothed, turning around and tilting her visor toward the rest of the students. “Class, this is our newest Foundling, Senaar of Clan Vizsla. I expect you all to accept your new vod with open arms and help her learn the ropes. Senaar, do you have anything to say?”

Turning around, she glanced out amongst the unreadable visors of her peers. The rest of them were wearing leather armor as well and for once, she wasn’t the smallest one. “I just want to… say hi,” the words came out sheepish and she floundered, having not prepared to be put on the spot like this. So many other children her age. So many chances to create friendships she’d never experienced before. So many chances to kriff it up. A few giggled at her, which did nothing to calm her erratically beating chest. Licking her lips, she clutched her fists and hoped that this would end soon.

“Xivi, I am tasking you with looking after Senaar today and helping explain anything she might not understand during the lessons,” the female teacher declared, giving a meaningful glance toward a girl with a bright yellow bucket.

Sena didn’t have to be a mind reader to see the slight dip in shoulders, the disappointment of having to babysit. They thought she was going to be dead weight for a while.

“Senaar go stand beside Xivi,” the mentor ushered her off.

Joining the other girl, her cheeks burned beneath her helmet as a few watched her step by. The moment she was beside her, Xivi tilted her head slightly. “Where are you from?”

“Naboo.”

The girl sighed .

Kriff. What was wrong with Naboo? Grinding her teeth, Sena waited apprehensively, solid as a statue and absolutely unmoving as the teachers, Thak & Nibak, started morning warm ups. After spreading the kids out, they began with stretches so that they wouldn’t hurt themselves. This was easy enough to follow along, as were the minor exercises that followed after. Lifting her head while doing push ups, Sena was startled to see that she was actually doing quite well. A larger girl, more than a head taller than her, was struggling to get the form down. Sena supposed that her own compact form and being light due to her race assisted in the ease of these body weight workouts. She was able to push out just as many as the boys were.

“Nice form, Vizsla. Go a little lower next time,” Thak paced between the students, giving her a nod of acknowledgement which made her let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

“ Elek ,” she huffed, making certain that she addressed the adult properly.

“Aya, go down to your knees and keep pushing if you’re struggling,” Thak moved onto the girl who was just in front of her. “Proper form is more important than doing full push ups.”

Most of the girls were on their knees by now, trying to shove the mats beneath them, as Sena finished off her last 10. Sitting up and tucking her legs beneath her rump, she glanced around.

“Was your weekend too long? Did you eat too much uj’alayi? ” Thak craned down, scrutinizing a boy with a midnight blue helmet. His voice was pensive and sharp, angry almost. “Just because you have days off doesn’t mean you’re allowed to slack! The future of the Tribe is here and you can’t even push out 40? Disappointing. On your feet!”

Sena jetted up, bouncing slightly on her heels as she wondered what was about to happen. By the depressed postures of the other students, she had a feeling that they were about to be punished.

“Seems you all need to run off your sweets from this weekend-” his proclamation was met by numerous groans. “ Uur! I’ll hear none of it. Last one to return after five laps of the covert will be stuck with cleaning duty tonight. Viinir! ”

Buckets swiveled and feet pounded like a stampede of bantha as her peers began rushing out of the entrance. Sena nearly tripped, sputtering after them as she followed the pack, comprehending that the laps were around the village’s perimeter. Filling her lungs with air, she trotted past and set her eyes to the front. Of course she wasn’t going to be last, but she wondered if she could manage to be first. What would happen if she was the best? Did the first place winner get a reward? The loser had to clean, so she supposed at the very least she’d get bragging rights.

Kicking her legs out beneath her, she sailed forward and caught up with a boy with an unpainted helmet, the silver beskar catching in the dull blue morning light. She didn’t speak to him, didn’t greet him, but focused on beating him. That way she could go home and tell Hux what a great job she had done. Running was easy, after all, she’d done it plenty of times in more hazardous landscapes, dodging roots and rocks, hills and nooks. The grass was nothing , nor the little mounds and rises they crested and sloped across.

Five laps ended with her fighting the silver boy for the lead. Her heart burned, soaring high like a bird, her eyes stretched wide as she panted and strained for victory. Thak and Nibak were waiting by the doors, the man having his arms crossed as he tapped his foot. “Hurry up!” he intoned, despite the fact that they were the first ones back. “Djarin. Vizsla. Good job, go get a drink of water and wait for the rest of your vod. ”

She grumbled slightly, disappointed that he’d called the boy’s name first. Heading back inside, she picked up her water bottle and flipped the straw up, shoving it into her mouth and quenching her burning throat with the lukewarm liquid. Her helmet turned toward Djarin, who was also sipping at his water. “Nice job. Next time I’ll beat you,” she said hoarsely, but in good spirits. Running was probably her favorite exercise to do aside from climbing.

“I wasn’t trying,” the boy retorted peevishly.

Sena’s smile wilted on her face. “Neither was I,” she snarked, trying to sound impressive, but her voice squeaked, absolutely betraying her. Cheeks and ears heating, she sat down and muttered to herself. What was his problem? No sense of honest rivalry? She wasn’t given the time to come up with another snide remark, but she was thinking about it - imagining how she could have clapped back at him, all the clever things she could have said in place of the stupid one she’d blurted out.

Other classmates were trailing back in, huffing and puffing, in much worse shape than the victors. Amongst the last to trot in was the girl, Aya - who had a bright hot pink helmet - and a boy called Vowr whose helmet was a splotchy grey, as if the paint had faded and he hadn’t bothered to touch it up. Routines phased into hand to hand combat, which she was quite nervous about.

Paired back up with Xivi, they observed the teachers explaining simple throws and strikes, telling them to draw their punches today and aim for center mass. Eventually, they let the young teens turn back toward each other.

“You’re fast,” Xivi commented as they began going through the palm strikes. Thrust, thrust, parry, turn.

“I like running,” Sena shrugged, catching the strikes on her vambrace as Xivi continued her routine.

“Yeah but no one is Djarin fast. Gave him a run for his credits today,” she snickered, moving into a defensive position so that Sena could start her own offensive turn.

“Really? He said he wasn’t trying,” she smiled a bit at Xivi’s words. Thrust, thrust, parry, turn.

“Course he did,” Xivi snorted, shaking her helmet. “How old are you?”

“13. And you?”

“14,” Xivi answered. “I was a little bit worried about you, but you seem to be in good fitness.”

“Thanks, that means a lot to hear that,” her cheeks flushed at the compliment.

“Little word of advice though. Careful about trying to best Djarin.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s top of the class and has been for a while. Only Kedth has come close in some aspects and the two have fought over it. Had a few duels to settle the matter-” she cleared her throat, stepping back slightly as Sena’s strike slipped through her guard and hit her chest. “Anyways, unless you want a shebs kicking, I’d advise against it.”

“I don’t think I’m nearly that good, but thanks for the warning. If I can just beat him at running, I think I’ll be pleased,” she admitted, clenching her fist and opening it slightly. Despite being good at physical activities, she doubted she’d come close to any of the other kids in varying subjects. There were too many topics for her to be naturally gifted with them all and she wasn’t an airhead who believed her princess upbringing made her any better. In fact, it should’ve made it worse, but at least Xivi was rather nice now that she’d warmed up to the Anaxian.

Combatives ended and they were given a short recess to get more water, have a snack, and file into the classroom. The topics of the day were geometry, galactic history, and Mando’a. Sena found the academics to be simple enough, though the Mando’a she had to take a considerable amount of notes. Most people in the room could string entire phrases together, even speak it fluently, and she was putzing around in slight confusion. Xivi leaned over a few times to translate. Lunch time came and they were allowed to go back to their homes to eat with their helmets off.

“How’s class?” Paz asked her, their buir not home for lunch.

“Not bad, actually,” Sena revealed, chucking a dopey smile at her vod. “I honestly thought it was going to be worse.”

“It’s only the first day, but try not to lose that shereshoy . You might be chipper today, but you’ll get sore eventually,” Paz reminded her in good nature.

“Sore?” she scoffed. “I’m Anaxian, made entirely of sinew and muscle, wind playing through the trees, and verdant shadows. A little running and push ups isn’t going to break me.”

“ Nayc , you’re Mandalorian now,” Paz disagreed, tossing a look over at the clock on the stove. “A stupid, grinning pointy eared Mandalorian, but one nonetheless. Prove to your aliit that you’ve got a few brain cells. Oya! Don’t want to be late. Thak won’t be so nice to you if you pull that stunt again tomorrow.”

“Nice?” she squeaked in disbelief.

“You don’t want to see Thak when he’s angry.”

“He seems angry all the time!”

Paz chuckled, guiding her back out of the house as they put their buckets on. “He’s aggressive, not angry. See you after class, Sen’ika.” He gave her a slight head bump and they parted ways.

Classes after lunch consisted of marksmanship for the remainder of the day. The others were allowed to go through drills, but Nibak pulled her aside to test where she was. The sage green mando had her disassemble a few different weapons, which Sena was comfortable taking apart and putting back together. She fumbled a little bit with the coil in the buttstock of the rifle, her muscles straining as she shoved it back in, but otherwise thought she moved at a smooth pace. Not too fast, but also not dragging on.

“How well do you know how to shoot?” Nibak inquired after they went through the weapons.

“I know how to shoot a sidearm well enough, but I’m not that familiar with rifles and shotguns,” she answered honestly. There was no point in pretending she was good at it just to eat her words when placed on the range. “My buir showed me how to take them apart.”

“As he should have,” Nibak hummed, picking up the rifle. “We’ll start with this. Come along.”

Following the teacher away from the rest, who were doing dime and washer drills, they left the Junction House and headed out toward the range on the outside of the village and nestled down in a valley. Burms had been created out of soil and dirt, a line of target dummies set at varying distances. She noticed that some of them were droids, which could probably be turned on to move around and simulate live targets. Nibak set the rifle down on the block, muzzle down range, and handed Sena a cartridge.

“Start with prone, which will be down here,” she got down on her belly, propping herself up slightly with her elbows, pretending to have a rifle seated against the pocket of her shoulder.

Sena got down on the grass with her and cocked her right leg, which helped steady her balance and lifted her up. After getting a nod, she picked up the rifle, her arms quivering slightly at the weight.

She found herself struggling to hold the weapon upright, fumbling the cartridge in, before sliding the charging handle forward. Nibak noticed her struggling. "Tuck your elbows in more, you can slide down lower in order to plant more firmly." Following the instructions, Sena found a more comfortable position, her finger flat against the side of the weapon as she waited for more instructions. "Aim for the target at 100 meters and fire."

Switching the safety off with her thumb, Sena set the cheek of her helmet against the buttstock, surprised to find that the curve fit perfectly, locking into place. Her visor adjusted swiftly to the sight picture, listing the muzzle in the direction of the target a medium distance away. Drawing her breath, she squeezed the trigger at the bottom and the weapon kicked with the fire. She blinked a few times, her shoulder absolutely raw from where the high powered rifle sat. Teeth rattled, she licked her lips and glanced at Nibak.

"Good shot. Control the kick more so that you don't lose sight picture," Nibak eased, nodding for her to continue.

Sena fired a few more times before her shoulder began to shake.

"Are you alright?"

Grinding her teeth, she gave a mute nod, not wishing to seem weak, but kriff it hurt. Felt as if she'd been kicked by a bantha. Volleying off a few more shots, they swapped over to the shotgun and Sena felt herself absolutely dreading have to fire it. Leaning into her shot, her grip slipped and she dropped the gun. Nibak darted forward, shoving her back away from the hot weapon, and yanked her by her raw arm. Sena was unable to stop the howl from escaping her mouth.

" Verd'ika ! Dank farrik how much do you weigh?" Nabik hissed, snatching up the shotgun and switching the lever to safe.

Sena's hand palmed her aching muscles. "A normal weight," she muttered, realizing she was a normal weight for an Anaxian. Not a human.

"You can't be more than 30 kilos," Nibak continued to fret, realization dawning on her. "Your shoulder-"

"I'm fine!" Sena spat irritably, upset that her arm hurt and not wishing to be treated differently.

"Are you human?"

She sucked her teeth, having hoped that this wouldn't come up. Until now, everything else had been manageable, even the hand to hand combat. "No." Would Nibak pry?

"That is important information, verd'ika. Will you tell me what race you are?"

She shook her head. "Sephi offshoot," was all she could supply.

"Lighter bone density," Nibak sighed. "This will affect your training."

Her stomach dropped and she pulled her hand down. "I feel fine. I can keep going. I can-"

"Stop lying, verd'ika . Trying to push your body past its breaking point will only get you and your vod killed in the future," Nibak started, her voice hardening and becoming crisp. No longer was it nurturing or warm, Sena quailing and sitting back on her heels as she waited to be yelled at. Instead, Nibak just shook her head. "Every Mandalorian has different strengths. You will need to play to yours. You are quick, verd'ika . You will still need to qualify with a rifle and shotgun, but we will make exceptions to spread your testing out to prevent injury. Come along, we are finished for the day."

Even if Nibak had been reasonable in what she said, Sena's head sagged, trailing behind her teacher as she knew for a fact that others would notice her getting special treatment. She tried to blink back tears, but supposed that the helmet did her a favor in hiding them as they stung down her face. She held her lips to prevent her mouth from sniffling. Her first day and she'd already been sorted out and told she would be inferior in certain aspects.

The class was released for the day and Sena slunk back home, not feeling up to doing anything as her shoulder hurt. Peeling off her bucket and pauldrons, she tugged down her sleeve enough to see that a nasty bruise was spreading along the inside pocket of her shoulder beside her pecs. A frustrated huff parted her lips and she rounded, kicking the frame of her bed as hard as she could. The fit was followed with a lance of pain up her leg, radiating from where her foot connected with the steel. At least it distracted her from the pain on her shoulder.

Moping in her room, she didn't go out for dinner, hearing a knock on her door. How could she face her aliit? Word probably traveled fast and they'd know that she would never be able to wield a rifle or shotgun in an adept manner. That was a huge part of an arsenal. If she couldn't even heft a rifle, it meant she'd never be allowed to touch heavy machinery for fear of it breaking her.

The door puffed open, despite the code she had set on it, recalling duly that Paz knew it. She snatched her blanket up, pulling it up to her chin and keeping her back to the door. "Was the day that long?" he teased. "Sen'ika?"

"I'm just tired," she grumbled, her voice cracking from how parched it was from sniffling like the biggest baby in the galaxy.

"I heard you did pretty well today. Almost beat Din in your morning run-" Paz preened, sitting on the edge of her bed. "But you need to eat to keep up your strength. Even if you're not hungry, you should try to put down some of it. It's not as spicy tonight." He patted her shoulder, making her suck in a sharp breath, her body betraying her before she could purse her lips. "Wha- Are you hurt?"

Her eyes began burning again, her teeth clenched as tight as a vise grip as she tried not to cry. Why was she such a wimp? "I'm fine."

"Senaar, if you have an injury we should put some bacta on it. You still have to go to training tomorrow," Paz was definitely frowning now, but she didn't turn to look at him. "Let me look."

She grumbled petulantly, but her brother didn't move. Instead, he waited until she was done grousing, throwing glares, and then sat up yanking down her shirt to show him the darkening bruise.

"Dank farrik how did you get that?" he cursed, eying the nebula blossom against tanned skin.

"I was testing weapons with Nibak and one was a high caliber rifle. The kick bruised me and then I dropped the shotgun and she asked if I was human. Obviously, I couldn't lie or she'd think I was severely underweight. Now they're going to treat me different. I-I-I just told them I was a Sephi subrace, but now I can't do the same things as the others-" the words splattered out of her mouth ineloquently, absolute word vomit as she felt the bitter tears burn in the corners of her eyes. "I was doing so well today and then this happened."

"So?"

Her mouth dropped open and she glowered at him. "So? What do you mean? I'll never be as good as anyone else if I can only use pistols!"

"You're really worried about that?" Paz was staring at her honestly, his icy eyes snaring her gold. "What good are you broken? Your first day here and the teachers are already talking about your potential. No one is perfect at everything, this is a minor setback. Focus on your strengths. You're fast and can move silently, that's a skill most Mandalorians don't have - at least not naturally, they have to work for years to have that. In the meantime, stop beating yourself up over it. Your teachers are here to help you grow in the right direction and will tailor your training accordingly. Do you want to keep shooting these weapons until you fracture your shoulder?"

She shook her head.

"Then stop worrying," he reached up and ruffled her hair. "Want to know a secret?"

"What?" she muttered.

"I sucked at reconnaissance and stealth. So terribly that I thought they weren't going to let me attempt my Trial. You know that little stunt you pulled back in the castle?" he was alluding to when she'd stabbed the stormtrooper. "I could have never done that. You are as silent as a shadow and jumped several meters like a nexu. Dush'shebs ! You'll make an amazing kyramud one day."

"You think so?"

"I know so. But only if you eat your dinner and keep on top of your studies and practice," Paz reminded her. "Let's get some bacta lotion for that bruise."

"And food," she added, feeling a little better after Paz's pep talk.

Sena's schooling continued and she took what Paz had told her to heart. You couldn't be good at everything and dwelling on her deficiencies would just cause her to get into her own head too much. Didn't help that this Djarin kid seemed to be good at everything, but Sena tried to ignore this fact and focus on her own training. Xivi became a fast friend and her partner for most combat drills. The canary yellow mando swiftly fell in step with her after classes, where they would practice Mando'a, since it was Sena's roughest academic subject. In exchange, she helped Xivi with her running and tried to teach her more acrobatic maneuvers with obstacles. For Sena it was easy to leap, duck, dodge, and adjust on the fly - be that midair or on the ground. This agility was quickly noticed and Xivi yearned to have even a shred of Sena's ability.

It became common knowledge that she was Sephi, which wasn't entirely true, but she didn't discredit it. She couldn't fully participate in some live fire activities, Thak let her fire a few times before putting a pistol in her hand, telling her to sharpen those skills instead. Part of her desperately wanted to be able to saddle up with one of the cool ambien rifles, but her shoulder twinged in memory of how badly the initial kick hurt her. Sidearms didn't bother her and she had a decent shot, increasing her draw and hipfire with the progressing weeks.

Mornings were her favorite, hoping that Thak would make them run so she'd get a chance to try and best Djarin. The silver mando never spared her, or anyone, many words. He kept to himself and Xivi said he'd always been like that. Sena wondered why, since they were all vod and being reclusive did nothing but make the others dislike you. Did she dislike him? She didn't know him. Though the few words she did exchange with him were mostly terse and fuelled by their rivalry in fitness.

But everything wasn't sunshine and rainbows. Falling into step quickly, adjusting with her peers, and finding a niche to occupy, she swiftly saw the weakest links amongst their group. Had she not been Anaxian and a wild spirit who had trolloped through the woods, Sena expected she might've been more ill prepared than she was. The girl who had difficulty with push ups on her first day, Aya, was amongst the struggling. Her magenta bucket was easy to pick out and it was like a beacon for Thak to hone on and chastise. Sena actually felt bad for how much the girl was picked on, told to improve... but that pity quickly faded. She'd caught Nibak offering extra lessons after their final bell, only for Aya to decline and say she was working on her own. Still, there was no improvement and she continued to get reamed out by Thak.

Eventually, about two months since Sena's arrival, Thak began comparing Aya's failures to other students. Particularly her.

"Senaar has been here for two months and she's already outpaced you, Aya," he scolded as she continued to struggle with push ups. "A Sephi Nabooian has outpaced you."

She wondered if she should have been offended by the way he said Sephi, but supposed it didn't matter since that actually wasn't her race. Everyone knew she was featherlight by this point as Nibak had told them that no one was allowed to use full strikes during combatives for fear of someone breaking something. If the teacher's words were meant to be motivating, they weren't, and Sena's cheeks burned with embarrassment for both herself and Aya.

Following class, she found the magenta bucket and tapped the tall girl on the shoulder. "Aya..." she cleared her throat, trying to muster her princess voice so she was as polite and courteous as possible. The girl turned, tilting her helmet down impassively - the telltale taut and bitter line of her shoulders clear. "Xivi and I are going to do some obstacle course runs today if you want to join us. After we practice Mando'a. You're more than welcome to join us today and any other day."

Aya was utterly silent, so silent that Senu realized she'd barely heard the girl speak before. Finally, "Do you think I'm laandur ?" her voice came out hot, Sena's helmet immediately picking up on the fury in the girl's voice.

"What?" Sena squeaked, throwing up her hands in a submissive manner. "N-no, I just thought you might-"

"That I need to run more? That I'm fat and slow? That you, an aruetii , could show me the ropes?"

She had not expected this at all, her jaw dropping at Aya's harsh words. Aruetii ? Aya had called her an outsider. "I'm trying to be nice!" she screeched, her patience vanishing like smoke dissipated by a strong gale. "I never see you practicing after class and Xivi and I are always outside. I thought maybe you wanted other people to work out with."

"Like I'd choose you or Sunshine to help me. You can't even shoot most weapons. You're not exactly the shining example of mandokar . At least I can handle an entire arsenal, vaar'ika ," Aya snapped, jabbing a thick finger into Sena's chest, making her stumble back. "Let's see where all the running gets you when I snipe you across the hill."

"Kriff! Fine, forget I asked," Sena hissed dejectedly, turning away and leaving Aya to her fuming. Her own heart burned, chest heaving as she stomped back home. What the hell was her problem? Did she really think that Sena was being snide? That inviting her out was going to be nothing but a chance for Xivi and her to laugh behind their buckets? Then, on top of that, Aya had gone right for the kill and insulted her. This was the first time in her life that someone had rejected her like that and Sena was trembling with unbridled rage. Had she done the right thing? Could that conversation have gone better?

"Woah look out over here, we've got a wild mythosaur on a rampage," Paz hooted as she opened the door to their karyai and continued to trundle in.

"What do you know about that stupid pink bucket, Aya?"

"Aya?" he arched a brow, setting down his blaster that he had been cleaning. "I heard that she's having some issues with her fitness."

"I invited her to join Xivi and I after classes and she bit my kriffing head off!" She plopped down across the table, removing her own blaster, deciding she should clean it while she was there.

"Hm," Paz hummed, thinking about the subject for a little while before speaking again. "She's sensitive about it. Her buir didn't return from a hunt a few months before you arrived. It's been worse since then."

The blood rushed out of her face and she felt her ears sag slightly beneath her headband. Sighing deeply, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I was trying to help her," she said quietly. Now Aya's reserved nature, the quiet answers to Thak, and Nibak's offer being turned down were making more sense. "I didn't know."

"How could you, vod'ika ? You did the right thing and tried to help her, but respect her decision to take the time she needs," Paz eased before shifting the subject. "So, I heard from the pipeline that your marks are quite high."

"Well aside from marksmanship since I can only really shoot this thing-" she bared the blaster which was already in three pieces. "Academics aren't that difficult and Xivi has been helping me with Mando'a."

"A humble princess? You surprise me again, vod'ika ."

Humble? Papa had told her that bragging about your accomplishments would just make people dislike you. Plus, Sena knew that school and marks didn't make up for real experiences. The real tests would be the Trials which were a few years off. She could only hope that she'd be prepared enough to make an attempt at 16. Given her comfort with the current regiment, aside from her disappointment in marksmanship, Sena was hopeful that she'd be able to make it there in time. "Not humble, just realistic," she groused, blushing at her brother's words. His praise was hard earned and he always knew the right things to say to brighten her mood even when it was abysmal.

"I wish I had that many brain cells," Paz snorted.

" Gar mirsh solus ," she countered, drawing a guffaw from him.

"Xivi teach you that one?"

"She taught me all the rude things first so that way if someone insults me, I know," she grinned, but sat back and considered what had happened. Even if Aya had lost her buir , she hadn't needed to take it out on her. Sena lost her papa and entire life as she knew it and wasn't ripping people's throats out for offering to help. Whatever. It was over and Sena had done the right thing in being the bigger person.

At least, that's what she thought.

Come morning, after their initial work out, they were paired up for combatives. Partners were switched around, so that people would be on their toes not facing their typical match up. Sena was loomed over by Aya, which was fine, all it was was grappling today. Most would just be mounting, a few tosses, and domination positions and the mats were padded. If Aya was still mad at her, she could vent her frustration and Sena wouldn't blame her. Squaring up with the girl, she knew this wasn't going to go in her favor. This wasn't free fighting where she could try and coil around Aya like a snake to try and win, it was a set of maneuvers and Aya would win because she was bigger and heavier. Heck, nearly everyone in there would be Sena except for 10 year old Terri.

Well, hopefully this goes by fast, she thought tartly, glancing over a Din and Oyiin who flanked them.

Aya lunged first, trading a few weak blows before they toppled to the ground. Sena fought for a dominant position, but was little more than a hissing loth-cat kitten as Aya picked her up by the scruff and flung her against the floor. Air whoosed out of her lungs, but Sena recovered before the girl could mount her. She rolled out of the way, rubbing her neck where she'd collided. Not a big deal. People often forgot how small she was and underestimated their strength. Aya hadn't fought with her before, so it'd be a little touch and go.

Grappling again, Sena swiped her foot under Aya, sending her thumping down and mounted. The girl twirled, asserting dominance and flipping their positions. Sena squirmed, writhing in her grip, managing to slip the hold like an eel and jump to her feet.

Thak and Nibak were across the room, correcting tosses. Back with her boots on the ground, Aya parried again and did something that Sena was not expecting. Her fingers grabbed the front of her cuirass before Aya checked her into the ground. All air was driven from her lungs and her head spun, choking for breath as a sharp whine crackled through her modulator. Aya mounted while she was dazed and pushed harder than she needed too to restrain her collar, air still not pooling in her lungs.

"Hey. Hey !"

Her ears were ringing, each blink hazy and spinning as she registered the magenta bucket casting a shadow over her. Everytime she closed her eyes, the world returned in a slow, foggy shape and Aya almost appeared as if she had two heads.

"Get off of her!"

Aya was shoved off and she was finally able to sputter, greedily sucking at air as she tried to process what had just happened.

"Didn't realize. She's laandur -" Aya was speaking, crossing her arms as if she hadn't just used an illegal toss and choked the air out of her partner.

"She barely weighs 30 kilos. What did you think would happen when you sat your fat shebs on her chest?"

"Watch it Djarin or you'll be next."

"What's going on over here?" Nibak trotted over, glancing between the boys and girls as Sena scrambled, finally able to sit up as the blood rushed back to her face.

"I'm ok!" she squeaked, not wanting to get Aya in trouble. The girl had already been through a lot and tattling on her would just make it worse. "Aya bested me. Knocked the wind out of me, that's all!"

Nibak tilted her visor toward Aya, letting the tension hang in the air, before shrugging slightly. "Be careful, Aya. You know that your vod is smaller than everyone else."

"I know, I'll be careful next time," Aya promised dolefully.

Nibak departed and the pairs split off again, Djarin turning away and grumbling quietly to himself. His wary visor kept glancing back, as if he were expecting Aya to make a second attempt to hurt Sena. With Ninak now watching with a hawk-like gaze, the lesson continued without any further issues. They were allowed their recess before moving onto academics. Whatever frustration Aya had wanted to vent had been allowed and Sena had covered her shebs by not saying anything. Again, she thought it would get better, that the girl had gotten her revenge, but found herself becoming the fixations of microaggressions.

From bumping into her desk, to pushing by her every chance she got, to even yanking on her braid once, Aya did not relent. How in kriff's name was this equal to being insulted? Sena hadn't intended on insulting Aya, so what was her problem? Come the end of the school day, she was grousing to herself, trying to walk it off and be the bigger person. Eventually, Aya would realize that she was being a brat and would leave her alone. If she were back in Genmaris, she would've punched Aya already, but she still felt bad for her. Aya was probably a nice person and was just going through a tough time, Sena could certainly relate.

"Hey," she stopped just a few houses down from the Vizsla home. Turning, she caught the glint of Djarin's silver helmet in the sun. "Why didn't you say anything? Aya has been torturing you all day."

"It's fine," Sena shrugged. "I know she's still echoy'la ."

"She choked you this morning," he reminded her flatly.

"Not difficult seeing how big I am," she brushed it off.

"What did you do?"

"I asked her if she wanted to join Xivi and I for our practice in the evening. She got rather upset, so I dropped it. She must've thought I was being contemptuous, but I just wanted to help her get her fitness up. We're all vod , we've got to help each other out," she explained, taken aback that Djarin was actually interested. This was the most he'd talked to her since she had arrived. Otherwise, they exchanged taunting rebuttals while trying to outpace one another in their exercises.

"And that warrants choking?" Din inquired dryly.

"I'm not upset. Just let it go. It's not a big deal. She'll probably go back to normal tomorrow."

"And if she doesn't?"

Sena paused, having not considered this option. What if she became Aya's punching bag to get out all those frustrations? Pursing her lips she let out a sigh, which crackled through the vocoder. "I'll deal with it. Thanks for the concern, but I'll still kick your shebs in the morning run tomorrow."

"Yeah right."

---

Also here's your translations!

Vod - Sibling/Comrade/Brother/Sister Jai'galaar - shriek hawk Buir - parent Vod'ika - little soldier/private Aliit - clan/family Su cuy'gar - You're still alive; greeting Su'cuy - Hi Sen'ori - big bird; respectful older sibling name for Senaar Elek - Yes Cin vhetin - blank slate Beskar'gam - armor Ori'vod - big sibling Alor - leader Karyai - living area/main area of Mandalorian home for eating and resting Ade - children Uj'alayi - dense, sweet Mandalorian cake Vor'e - Thanks Heturam - mouth burn; highly sought out in Mandalorian food and indicates VERY spicy food K'olar! - Come here! Get over here at once! Uur - Go Viniir - Run Shebs - butt; ass Shereshoy - lust for life that is Mandalorian Nayc - No Oya - Let's go! or lit. Let's Hunt! Dush'sebs - badass Kyramud - Assassin Laandur - weak; highly insulting Auretii - outsider Mandokar - the right stuff; for Mandalorians Vaar'ika - pipsqueak Gar mirsh solus - Your braincell is lonely Echoy'la - grieving, mourning

#big brother paz vizsla #paz vizsla & oc character #the manadalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #oc mandalorian #growing up mandalorian #din djarin x oc

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