had a thought about my D&D party and how everyone goes about their grooming/self care routines and the end result is my new headcanon for elves in fantasy settings.

the reason why elves have long hair is because its a social status- not of good breeding or anything, but because braids and styles of braid indicate status.

are they married? are they in the military? are they single and looking to mingle? are they single and NOT looking to mingle? are they a noble? are they a baker?

a military man who is single will wear hair totally different from a man who is a baker and married.

anyway cute idea of the party's former military elf braiding a "married" braid into his crush's hair only to panic and want to unbraid it when they come to his home town.

"did you hear? while he was on leave he got married!" "No, really? how do you know?" "the teifling girl- look at her braids!" "oh... my.... and he didn't invite his own mother!"

"Mother, its not what you think-" "it looks like it! she is a lovely lady, very polite, if only i could have braided your hair! indeed who DID braid it for the ceremony?" "no one, mother, listen-" "YOU DIDN'T BRAID YOUR HAIR FOR YOUR OWN WEDDING???"

"Lady vantis, if I may ask, who died?" "I am mourning my son's love for me!" "Mother the wedding hasn't happened!" "I can still hear him some times! which reminds me i must teach his widow the mourning braid!"

"I don't see what the problem is, we practically are married." "The problem is there is a "to be married" braid and that would have been more accurate." "but THIS is accurate." "Please don't say that around my mother, there is also a braid for "betrayed by child" and i don't wants the neighbors talking."

born to die | minho

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in anyway represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: minho x gn!reader

➩genre(s): ANGST, fluff, smut, non-idol!au, switch!minho

➩warnings: death, smoking, pet names, sexual themes (18+) sex (unprotected- pls use protection!), explicit language, people watching (not sexual!) [anything else i have missed]

➩summary: a story based on the song ‘born to die’ by lana del ray. minho was the chosen victim i’m afraid.

➩wc: 5k (5,046)

➩author’s note: i am so sorry.

don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry.

Cold, wet, miserable. The transition from autumn to winter makes itself known harsher than it has ever done before. As the wind cries, an acrimonious chill soars through the air looking to communicate with the souls that are derived of their light.

Minho walks down the desolate street playing with his lighter. A custom made lighter; a muted grey with the engraving of a peacock feather on it. A gift he got on his birthday from an old friend. It packs quite a punch he must say.

He takes one last long drag from his cigarette, taking back the nicotine to fill his lungs before freeing the smoke to dance through the smog. It feels familiar, the taste of nicotine on his tongue. It has been a while since he has smoked. He didn’t miss it per-say, but fuck did it have its way of ebbing the pain.

A brown weathered bench comes into his line of view. He sits at this bench so much that he has assessed the best and worst parts of it to sit on. He collapses down, slightly off-centre and releases a long sigh.

Dawn is his favourite time of the day. The route he can walk with his eyes closed allows him to pass by the type of people he finds pleasure in watching. Minho was adroit at reading people. He much preferred to observe rather than enter a conversation in which he would need to cue his laughs and pretend to be sympathetic towards people who, he concluded, deserved nothing but to get castrated.

05:29am, right on time. Paul flits around the corner and continues down the path. Minho monitors the morning runner closely, counting his steps. Usually Paul does four hundred down this path before he is out of sight. His strides are longer today, seems he wants to get his run over and done with.

Minho likes Paul, though he’s never interacted with him. He needs not to, him watching from afar every dawn for the past ten months has made Paul the closest person he can refer to as a friend in his life currently.

Sad? Far worse. Depressing.

Things in his life changed drastically when you left him. You…your name leaves a vexatious taste in his mouth. It ire’s him just how easily you ruined him. He didn’t think he could possibly hate anyone on this planet as much as he does you. All because you broke the promises you made him.

He hates you. He doesn’t think he will ever stop hating you. He can’t, he won’t.

The friends he did have, he casted them aside. Dropped them like a tree ridding itself of its leaves. Every now and then one of his old friends, Chris, checks up on him. Whether it be sending him a letter -Minho had blocked his number- or a care package. He can’t deny the fact that it really pisses him off.

There goes Vanessa, or as people formally call her, Miss Phillips. He discovered that she is a teacher who specialises in helping children with special needs. Minho is quite fond of Vanessa. He usually likes to guess what style her hair will be next. She untucks her hair from her coat, braids. He hisses and shakes his head slightly as he guessed wrong again.

Minho reaches for the cold flip lighter and runs his thumb over the engraving. Never one to believe in superstitions, he thinks about the argument on whether a peacock feather brings good or bad luck.

It attracted the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in this world. For that, he was beyond grateful for this small object. Until the thing that was so beautiful became cold, unknown, and cause him the worst ache of all. Ache from the heart that shattered into many, many minuscule pieces. One that he knows can never be meticulously mended.

He shouldn’t be thinking about that, about you. His therapist strongly advises against such and directs him to remember his two little people he keeps an eye on. ‘Paul and Vanessa, just think about Paul and Vanessa. You have formed some sort of relationship with them in which you have developed a fidelity. They aren’t any the wiser, but they are a reason for you holding on and gravitating your mind to moving forward.’ His therapist had said.

Minho’s hands start to shake and not due to the cold air. He curses to himself as he opens his cigarette box to find it empty. He was perturbed by his thoughts and needed to rid his growing anxiety before he has an attack.

The universe astutely discerns the situation, for a small friendly body rubs against his calf. Purring fills his senses and he looks down to see the stray cat staring up at him.

The cat seems to mimic his every move. He lifts an arm, the cat lifts its paw to touch his leg. He tilts his head, the cat does the same. If Minho clenches his fist tightly in his lap, then the cat rubs on his calf to soothe him.

It doesn’t take long for a decision to be made, for he and the cat coalesce. He gently picks it up and continues his journey home. The cat immediately becoming the third most important thing in his life.

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

come and take a walk on the wild side. let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain.

“Honey?”

“In here!”

Minho follows the sound of your voice, finding you snuggled up in a blanket snacking on some popcorn and listening to some music. You turn to acknowledge him and he physically feels his heart swell. The way you look at him with such light and love is enough for it to be his main source of oxygen. God he is painfully in love with you.

“Hello my darling, how was work?” You ask with a tilt of your head. His heart skipped a beat.

“It was irritating,” he moves to lay on you, resting his head on your stomach as your hands find their way to his head, “Chris is annoying me again.” He says with a roll of his eyes. You chuckle lightly at that.

“Did he put his lunch in your designated spot in the fridge again? Or was it that he offered you an iced latte instead of an Americano? Oh! Maybe he asked whether you were free this weekend and asked you to hang out? Or-”

You are cut off with a rambunctious groan that makes you erupt in a fit of laughter. Minho goes to roll off you irked by your teasing, but you trap him with your legs and apologise by smothering his face in kisses.

Hearing just some of the things that he relayed to you about his days at work made him sound ridiculous for even being annoyed at such things.

You have an extraordinary way of doing that. Reminding him that he’s being too pessimistic about life without explicitly saying so. He realistically doesn’t need to be pessimistic anymore. Not when he has you in his life, you are warm sun to shine through his cold grey skies.

It’s astounding just how long he was able to survive before you. You have moulded him unknowingly into a man capable of loving someone to an extent which is unearthly. He is your paean to how beautiful love can be and you are his saviour.

“What’s going on in that pretty head?” You ask, rubbing your hands up and down his back. It should not surprise him how well you know him.

“Do you know how much you mean to me? I can’t breathe without you Y/n. That’s frightening. I never thought I could genuinely be so happy. I never knew what love was until you y’know?” Minho says.

He can feel your breath quicken and your heartbeat increase, but you’re silent. So he continues.

“I truly think, no, I know you make me a better man. I don’t know why I am being sentimental right now, I think you have me in a lifelong trance.” He lifts his head up, resting his chin on your chest. He watches a tear fall from your eye. He wishes in that exact moment, that he could read people’s minds. Read your mind.

“Why must you do that to me unprovoked?” You sob. It’s his turn to comfort you as he manoeuvres his way out of the position you both currently hold. He lifts you gently and places you on top of him to which you bury your face in his neck.

The pitter-patter of rain starts to make itself known as the weather mimics your mood. Minho enjoys the rain though, it soothes him. Much like you soothe him. It’s strange, he can see the similarities between you and droplets of rain. Both refresh and cool him down when he’s too hot. Both make sounds that immediately puts him into a tranquil state. Both necessary to the world to make the flowers bloom and the grass look greener.

You are his rain.

He runs his fingers along your spine as you mutter incomprehensible words. If he had to guess you are telling him that he’s a villain for making you feel such a way randomly in the day. You referred to him as such before.

Minho is a prick, albeit a lovable one; a prick nonetheless. He loves the way you react to his spontaneous outbursts of reasons why he loves you. Maybe it’s the way you look so adorable when you cry. Maybe it’s the way you will always cling to him after he does so. Whatever the reason, it only makes his heart grow fonder.

The room is filled with your sniffles here and there, low music, and the sound of heavy rain hitting the window.

Minho lays with you, his eyes closed, swaying you gently.

“Do you want to go and play in the rain?” He says breaking the rhythm of sounds.

“Do I want to go and play in the rain?” You echo, laughing, “No, I don’t want to get my hair wet.”

“You can wear my hoodie and my raincoat?” He suggests. You look up at him, sitting up fully. He just smiles at you, awaiting your response.

“You really are serious…wow.”

“It’ll be fun, come on!” He exclaims picking you up with him as he gets up from the sofa. He goes to grab a hoodie of his, one of your favourite ones to wear. He tucks your hair inside of the hood and pulls the drawstrings to tighten it around your face.

He laces the string with a bow and kisses the tip of your nose. He then runs to get his raincoat and swiftly encloses you inside of it. He laughs at you.

“What?” You say feigning annoyance with a tilt of your head.

“Nothing…” He hums with laughter. “You just remind me of an Ewok” He laughs pinching your cheeks. You scrunch your face up due to the attack of his fingers and try to bat him away.

“You basically just called me a tiny bear.” You groan.

“My cute tiny bear. Come.” He grabs your hand and leads you towards the front door so you can both put on your shoes. He glances you way, shooting you an ‘Are you ready?’ look, to which you just roll your eyes at him.

He doesn’t give you another second to change your mind, him basically lifting you off your feet and into the empty street. You squeal as the rain comes down hard, instantaneously soaking both Minho and you.

Minho closes his eyes and raises his head to the sky, letting the rain trickle down his face. He laughs and then looks down at you. Staring up at him, you look at him like he is the only person ever. He scans your face, taking in your beauty. He is too in awe to speak, instead choosing to try and contain his smile by biting his lip. It doesn’t work.

“I’ll love you forever.” You say loudly over the rain. Minho’s heart stops beating for several moments.

“Promise me that, my love.” He says, cupping your face in both of his hands. His thumbs rest just beneath your eyes and he wipes the water away from them.

“I promise.”

He kisses you deeply, lovingly, passionately. And the both of you stand there in the pouring rain, smiling through your kisses and failing to suppress your laughter.

It was in that moment, that you two were the only people in the world. The two brightest of stars, conjoining to rival the sun.

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

choose your last words, this is the last time

Minho paces back and forth in front of your driveway before approaching your door. He messed up big time, so he keeps being told by your friend Jeongin. He has always found your friends tiresome. Why being sent a paragraph long text of middle finger emoji’s is warranted for his jealousy? He will never know.

He isn’t quite sure how to say he is sorry for what he did. He trusts you. Of course he trusts you, it’s you. You would never do anything to hurt him, let alone in spite of his childish moods.

He musters up enough courage to knock on your front door. Yet as he was about to, he retracts his hand. What if this is something you will never forgive him for? That can’t possibly be an outcome of all this. Can’t it?

He backs away from the door, pacing again. To any of your neighbours, he must look like some creep trying to talk himself into breaking into your house. It’s best he just be brave and-

“Minho?”

He freezes in his tracks as he sees you in your pyjamas, carrying a trash bag. If your face didn’t hold that nasty scowl directed towards him, he would have thought you looked cute in the set he got you for your birthday. You clear your throat. Right, he is here to plead his case.

“Hey…bin collection day tomorrow?”

An awful start.

You brush past him, throwing the bag into the bin. He watches you awkwardly, placing a hand on the back of his neck.

You walk back inside, but open the door wider. Taking that as his cue to go inside, he scurries in, sure to be quick as to keep the warmth inside.

You immediately head to your room and he sheepishly follows, acting as if he doesn’t know the layout of your house by memory.

As you both enter your room, you go off to the bathroom to wash your hands. He sits and waits for you on the bed. His attention momentarily drawn to the window where he sees drops of rain run down the glass. He smiles softly before returning to his solemn state.

The bed dips beside him and he has to force himself not to stare at the side of your head. The remote control to your television gets thrown into his lap. He looks down, then up at you confused.

“Pick something. Give yourself a couple of minutes to calm down and then say what you have to say.” You speak assertively.

He does as you say without question. Even if you are mad at him, you still know that he can struggle with righting his wrongs. Oh how he loves you.

A few minutes pass and Minho does indeed feel calmer. Enough to start the conversation he is still, slightly, scared to have.

“I am sorry. I had no right to tell you what to wear that night. I also acted like a dick to every single person that approached you, even your friends. That was not cool of me. At all.” He starts.

His eyes meet yours and it takes everything in him to not cower away in embarrassment. The reality of his actions settling in.

“You are beautiful. I know that, everyone else knows that. I think I just got annoyed by people gushing to me about you and how they would love to be with you.” He turns to the window again, watching the rain as it gets heavier.

“It triggered a protective side of me, well, a primal one.” He looks towards you now as you sit against the headboard, waiting for him to continue. “You’re mine and I didn’t want people to think they even had a chance with you.”

“Surely you would only think that if you didn’t completely trust me.” You argue, raising an eyebrow.

Minho starts to fiddle with the remote. Casting his eyes away from yours in embarrassment.

“That, would be a viable response to that yes. But I do trust you! I promise. You haven’t given me any reason not to trust you I just-” He cuts himself off, holding back on what he truly wants to say.

He hears you sigh and you move to place your hand on his forearm. You stroke his arm softly with your thumb, letting him take his time. He really appreciates this side of you.

“I haven’t been feeling like I am enough for you. I don’t feel good in my body as of late and I think those insecurities translated through my actions of how I ministered to our relationship,” Minho takes a long, drawn out breath before continuing. “I think I was trying to drag you down with me into the same state of mind. For that, I am sorry Y/n.” He finishes looking up at you as his eyes shimmer from the fresh tears that threaten to fall.

You two stare at each other for a little while longer, the silence making Minho more panicked. You crawl over to him and straddle his lap, taking him by surprise. Your hands finding their rightful place in his hair, stroking softly.

“Thank you for apologising to me. Make sure to also apologise to the many of my friends you rubbed the wrong way,” You chuckle lightly. “But thank you for opening up to me and telling me what has been troubling you.” You take a deep breath and release with a sigh. “It doesn’t mean that I am completely happy with you, but I do want to show you that you are beautiful. You are everything and more to me Min.” You say smiling softly.

Minho swallows, his eyes blinking rapidly as he listens to you. He places his hands on your hips and strokes them softly. He may not be able to respond right now, the words caught in his throat. So he wants to let you know that he hears you.

“This is a conversation that needs to be finished when emotions aren’t as strong. However, I have failed as your lover to not make you feel like you’re enough. To not make you feel as if you are the sexiest man I have ever laid my eyes on.” You tantalisingly move your hips on his crotch.

The way his body responds to you will never cease to amaze him. All it takes is you sitting on top of him, hell, one look when you stare at him with those eyes and he is ready to go.

Gyrating slowly and pressing down on his now evident erection, a small whine escapes his lips. You smile at that and lift your shirt up off your body. Grabbing his hands, you lift them up to your chest for him to pay attention to your nipples.

He immediately began pinching and rolling them between his fingers. Your moans elicits a thrust of his hips up into your heat. Wanting more, you grab his head and he understands what you want of him. His eyes flutter closed and he attaches his soft lips to the bud, sucking and swirling his tongue. Releasing beautiful moans, he gets off to the salacious image of you using him at any given time to make him suck your nipples.

“I love the way you love my nipples Min. Love the little sounds you make.” You throw your head back in pleasure. “All reasons why you are the sexiest man I know.” You mewl softly.

He switches nipples frantically. Always eager to please you. Only you. He craves every little thing about you. The way your lips taste, the way you taste. The way your body shudders around him as he takes you whenever you let him.

He is love drunk off of you. You are like a drug to him and he wishes to consume you ‘til his dying breath.

The way you grind your hips down on him is unholy, it is like you are trying to make him cum in his pants. He is close, so close. His moans turning into desperate high pitched whimpers.

You halt your movements and hover above his lap. Swallowing the noise of disappointment with your mouth on his. Your tongue claiming the entirety of his mouth. You are so filthy and he loves it.

You catch his bottom lip between your teeth, dragging it slightly before gazing up at him with those eyes. You run your hands from his shoulders down his body, painfully slowly.

His head falls back into the pillow as he looks up at the ceiling, fighting the urge to just pull his pants down enough for him to free himself and fuck you senselessly until he is a shaking mess.

He knows better than to do that though. He wants to be good for you. Your good boy.

You pull down his joggers and his underwear and he shivers slightly. You hum in approval and kitten lick the head of his cock.

“Y/n, bunny, please don’t tease me!” He squalls. He thinks maybe he is being punished for his behaviour. It’s the only way to explain the way you stroke him at a leisurely pace.

“Hush, let me appreciate you. M’gonna make you feel good love” You mumble more to yourself than to him.

Before he could protest anymore, he sharply intakes a breath. The way your lips mould around him so deliciously. Taking him down your pretty little throat. How did he get so lucky to find someone that riles him up as much as you do?

His hands reach down to lightly tug your hair, using it as a handle as he guides your head up and down. Your mouth felt so good. It always feels so good.

He simply can’t control the needy whimpers and whines that are released from his throat. The sound doing so much as to turn him on even more. He has to be careful, he doesn’t want to finish like this, not before you anyways. That is just selfish, what man doesn’t let his gorgeous little pet finish before him?

He pulls you off of him, catching you by surprise. His eyes are dark now, as if a switch was flipped. He comes to his senses, his mission to grab back the reigns and take control. He inhibits you wiping the drool from your mouth as he pulls you into him and crashes his lips into yours.

You moan into his mouth and he is sure to swallow every one. He flips you onto your back, lightly pinning your arms in place. You are breathtaking. Just looking at the way your body glistens with sweat in the moonlight. Looks so tempting, so inviting. Like he wants to create a masterpiece with your empty canvas.

He kisses every part of your body, painting a picture with the little marks he leaves in his wake. His mouth hovers over your heat, breathing softly before planting a chaste kiss.

“Oh kitten…you are dripping.” He says with a devilish grin. “Is this all for me?” He asks tilting his head as he now looks up at you. He concludes that your mewling won’t satisfy him with the answer he wants to hear.

He squeezes your thighs roughly, causing you to look down at him. He just looks up at you with those gorgeous black eyes, his smile charming.

“I believe I asked you a question. Is my darling already too fucked out? I haven’t even touched you in the place you so desperately need me yet. Did you have your fun, having the control hm?”

“Yes, yes it’s all for you Min.” You whine attempting to squeeze your thighs together, but he is quicker than you. Spreading them wide his kisses litter just around your centre. His teasing merciless as you writhe beneath him.

“Min please, no more teasing. Need your mouth on me.” You beg, pushing your hips up to meet his face. He moves back, amused by your neediness.

“Well if that’s what my little kitten wants, then it’s what my little kitten should get hm?”

Your body shudders as he goes down on you. Lapping up your juices like a man who has been starved for weeks. He feels your hands in his hair and it turns him on. He can’t help but to rut against the bed to relieve some of the tension. The sounds, the sight, it is all truly so vulgar. Yet he loves nothing more than to please you.

After all, his name does sound prettiest when it is you moaning it in frantic desperation.

He makes you come undone three times and before he could get to four, you had pushed him away. Catching your breath as he knelt beside you and admires you. Admires the way the sweat trickles down the valley of your chest. The marks that colour your skin so deliciously. The way your eyes are closed tightly and your mouth open, no doubt getting a little dry.

He places an open mouthed kiss to your lips, his tongue providing the moisture that was being lost due to your heavy intake of air. He releases your lips and you make a noise of surprise as he opens your legs and situates himself between them, pushing into you slowly.

He has to still himself or else he will quite literally combust. You feel so good wrapped around him. You always feel so good. He opens his eyes to you already staring up at him Your eyes are overflowing with desire and he has to take a mental picture.

“You intoxicate me. How is it I feel such burning passion whenever I am around you?” He starts to move within you, slowly, intimately, as he takes a deep breath. “I belong to you Y/n. I promise that I will never live a day without telling you that.” His strokes get deeper.

You are a babbling mess. He can’t decipher anything you say, so he swallows your attempt with his mouth on yours. It isn’t until he can taste salt that he realises he is crying. So much for keeping the control. He pulls away and places his arms beside your head, his pace still slow and deep.

“Look at me my darling,” He says with a shaky voice. He watches you flutter your eyes open. “Promise, mmh, promise me you will never leave my side.”

“I promise you.” You say, your own voice faltering no doubt being consumed by a ray of emotions. He drops his head into the crook of your neck, his tears now flowing down your neck. He feels your arms tighten around him. One hand on his back, one hand in his hair, stroking softly as you mutter ‘I love you’ over and over again.

He made love to you that night until the sun graced the sky. Never falling short of telling you just how much he adores you.

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

we were born to die.

It’s been a year now. A year of watching Paul and Vanessa, two months since he brought Dori home. Other than those three main factors in his life now, Minho is still miserable.

Much like the weather this morning as it downpours. He’s learnt to hate the rain since the end of his relationship with you. There isn’t much to like, not anymore.

He walks the same route he always does. His shoes are getting muddy, the path littered in grass clippings collated by the water. It proves to be extremely bothersome to see the grass stick to his shoes. Especially on a day like today, if grass is the thing that sets Minho off into a fit of rage; so help anyone who pisses him off on his way home.

Life is cruel. It will give you one thing you wish to cherish forever, to love until you can’t love no more. Makes you feel found when you were lost for so long. Gives you happiness, makes you feel alive like you can accomplish anything the world throws in your direction.

Then it takes it away. Just like that. The thing you had wished to cherish, perishes. Strips you of your ability to love. When you were finally found, you become lost again. Takes your happiness, makes you feel as if you’re rotting inside like you can’t will yourself to try and overcome the obstacles the world throws in your direction.

Living a life like that is revolting. A life in which you feel your only purpose of being born was to die. Minho laughs bitterly to himself. Born to die. Ironic because no matter what people tell you, that is always going to be the outcome of all life.

As he stands with the flowers in his hand, he isn’t sure whether it’s his tears or the rain. Perhaps both as they start to trickle down the petals and collate in the pistil.

He kneels, unbothered about the grass and mud stains he is to get on the knee caps of his trousers.

Resting the flowers against the polished marble, his fingers journey over the name etched in the stone.

Your name.

His hand falls from the gravestone and situates themselves next to his head that has now pressed itself firmly into the ground. He sobs as he bows over you.

He loves you. He doesn’t think he will ever stop loving you. He can’t, he won’t.

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

© 2023 diddybok

Imagine being Sokka’s childhood best friend who left to join the war and reuniting with him years later.

You and Sokka were friends before either of you could walk. Children were in short demand in your tribe so when you were born only 6-months apart it was a given you’d be playmates but you and Sokka also became inseparable almost instantly. You both had the same dry sarcastic humour and your personalities worked well together. For the first few years of your life all you were concerned with was staying taller than Sokka and Polarbear dogs but then fire nation attacked and killed Sokka’s mother.

After the brutal attack the remaining tribesman decided to make one final stand against the fire nation and all the eligible men began preparing to leave with one exception...you. You had just turned 11 and so based on past custom weren’t too young to go to war. Of course your tribe didn’t want to take a child but your only family was your father and he was leading the war effort with Hakoda. You had no other family left to watch you and so you managed to talk your father into bringing you along. Sokka tried to do the same but as he was 10 Hakoda said he was too young. Sokka had been furious to say the least. He didn’t see why you’d be allowed and he wouldn’t be, 6 months was hardly anything and his sexist attitude made it sting all the more. He pouted constantly up until the day you left when he suddenly sprinted to the shore at the last minute and hugged you tightly. “I’m still mad at you but if only one of us can go to war....well I’m glad it’s you and not one of the other kids”. You smiled “not quite a heartfelt goodbye but i’ll take it”. “Y/n come on” your father called and you nodded. “I have to go...”. Sokka nodded “of course, kick some fire bender butt for me and erm....don’t die”. You laughed “you too” and with a final smile to Sokka joined your father and the other men to go to war.

That was 5 years ago and you hadn’t seen or heard from Sokka since. You thought about him and home a lot but honestly life at war was very demanding. You were largely sheltered from it by your fellow tribesmen and didn’t actually engage in any combat until you were 14 but still you felt the burden of the impossible victory on your shoulders. Every time you took a step forwards the fire nation seemed to push you back three...but things changed when the avatar came back. It shook the fire nation and surely but slowly you were making gains in the war.

After one successful victory you were in particularly high spirits and woke up early to go and fetch some water for you and your father. As you returned to camp you set the water down in your tent and headed to get breakfast. The camp seemed different you noted, people seemed to be hurrying to the centre excitedly and so you picked up your pace. You suddenly heard a loud cry and worrying you were under attack began to run to camp. A large group had gathered and you looked for the threat but realised everyone seemed happy...not scared. Everyone was focused on a group of men who had come out of the war tent. The group of men themselves were all talking excitedly, focused on one man in particular. You knew every single man in this camp but couldn’t work out who this one was. He was definitely water tribe and young, around your age and looked oddly familiar. He had bright blue eyes and a sharp chin which suited him very well. Everyone seemed to know him and it frustrated you that you couldn’t work out who he was. He was talking to your father and Hakoda warmly and you stared at his face feeling you knew him. Then it clicked, it was Sokka.

Sokka’s POV

Sokka had been nervous to walk into camp but the second he did everyone rushed to hug and welcome him. Sokka felt happier than he had in a long time. He stood next to his father unable to remove the smile from his face when he spotted your father and a thought occurred to him. "Where’s y/n?" Sokka asked when he spotted you feet away. You looked like you’d just arrived here and were staring at Sokka as if you couldn’t work out who he was. Sokka went to call out to you when you smiled. "Sokka?" you asked in disbelief and Sokka blushed. It may’ve taken you a second to recognise him but he’d know your face anywhere. "It’s me y/n" he smiled and your own smile turned into a large grin. You rushed forwards and hugged Sokka tightly. Sokka heard a lot of “awes” from the crowd but he didn’t process them, he was too focused on you. You pulled away and both grinned at one another babbling greetings and questions. Then there was an awkward pause where you both just stared at one another. It had been over 5 years since you’d seen each other and you had both changed a lot since then so it took a lot of effort to process. Sokka was pleasantly surprised to find he was taller than you now. As kids he had steadily caught you up over the years but you left before he could claim his victory. Now he was undeniably taller than you and he couldn’t wait to tease you about that but he noted you’d beat him in other aspects. Your arms were more toned and bigger than his, well defined and taut after the years of training and Sokka could see the same went for all your limbs by the shape of your neck and shoulders. Your hair too was longer and partially braided which Sokka had never seen before. Of course the braids symbolised battles you’d been a part of and Sokka felt proud not envious at how they decorated your face. Your face too was also more defined, your cheeks seemed higher and more angular but your eyes had remained striking and your lips still bright pink. Even the way you held yourself was different, you were a warrior now Sokka realised and that thought made him feel fuzzy.

Your POV

When the silence between you got too awkward Hakoda coughed "y/n, Sokka has travelled here from his journey with the avatar". "What?" you cried in disbelief and Sokka just smiled lazily “yeah...”. "Sokka why don’t you go with y/n to our tent and tell her all about it over breakfast?" your father suggested. Sokka nodded and you led him away to your family tent. You kept staring at him convinced he wasn’t real. Sokka had changed a lot. The height difference was a shock but not the biggest. His face had lost its baby cheeks resulting in chiselled cheekbones and his hair was a lot longer. He was more toned too, not muscley per se but his arms had definition and you struggled not noticing. His eyes were the same though and they were the one thing that made you sure this was your friend. They made you feel at ease as they always did and you just turned to Sokka and laughed “I can’t believe you’re here”. “Me either!” Sokka cried “I...I imagined this day for so long”. “We all missed you a lot” you said worried Sokka was still upset you got to go when he didn’t “and thought about you every day” you added. “You did huh?” he asked with a smirk and you realised Sokka was fine. You did not need to be worried. “I said we, not me” you said pointedly and Sokka grinned “yeah but I know you meant you missed me, you just didn’t want to admit it”. You forgot how well Sokka could see through you and shook your head “okay I guess I missed you...now tell me everything! How on earth did you become friends with the avatar?”.

Throughout Sokka’s story you stared in awe and barely touched your food. Everything Sokka told you sounded insane and you made him promise several times that he was being serious. Sokka animatedly told each part of the story and you couldn’t help smiling at how enthusiastic he was. You’d missed this and him a lot. 

“So you two all caught up?” your father asked suddenly entering the tent and Sokka shook his head “not even close! I was just telling y/n about our fight with the fire nation navy in the northern water tribe”. Your father laughed placing a hand on Sokka’s shoulder “well that will have to wait, y/n has training...maybe you’d like to join her?”. You saw Sokka’s eyes light up at the thought of attending actual warrior training and smiled. “Yes!” he cried leaping up “if erm...you don’t mind of course”. You smirked “it’s been five years since I saw you, do you really think i’m letting you out of my sight?”. Sokka blushed looking down but you didn’t notice. You were already tugging Sokka out of the tent “come on! If we show up first we get the good armour!”.

Sokka’s POV

All-day you sparred and trained in water tribe drills. Sokka was equally exhausted and exhilarated. When his father declared the session over his exhaustion won however and he collapsed on the sand and crawled to the water. He heard a laugh and you appeared next to him “tired huh?”. “No! I could go for hours!”. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Sokka sipped his water and glanced at you. You were cleaning your sword and the sun reflected off it making your eyes shine. Your eyes had always been darker than the traditional light blue, they were a very dark blue and only when the sun shone on them was their true colour illuminated, like now. Sokka forgot how beautiful they were and looked away before you could notice him staring. “You were really good in training” he said softly and you smiled glancing at him “no sarcasm? Was that a genuine compliment?”. Sokka grinned “yes! You know I can be serious”. “Wow you have changed” you smirked and Sokka blinked “you think?”. You nodded your head “you’re more mature now, you have this sureness about you and an air of confidence like a leader does...it’s nice” you smiled “and then you make a goofy face and you’re back to the 10-year old I remember”. Sokka smiled and leant back on his elbows just enjoying this moment in the sun with you. “You’ve not changed a bit” he told you and you blinked “really?”. He nodded “I saw you earlier trying to work out who I was but I didn’t need two seconds to spot you”. “Well duh i’m the only girl here!” you cried but Sokka shook his head. “That wasn’t it, I’d know your face anywhere. I worried after you left I’d forget it but you’re exactly as I remembered...every detail like I pictured”. You blushed as Sokka spoke so softly but soon regained your bearings, “and you pictured me often?”. Sokka didn’t even blink “of course I did”. Your blush rose again at Sokka’s confidence and you saw he had a small smirk on his face. Sokka went to speak again when an alarm rang out. You both jumped to your feet. “What does that mean?” Sokka asked and you frowned “nothing good, come on” and ran back to the camp. Everyone was gathered around grabbing armour and weapons. “Dad, what’s going on? Are we under attack?” Sokka called. Hakoda nodded “yes, y/n get ready, Sokka.....”.  “Dad I can fight, please let me come with you” Sokka said loudly and you looked at Hakoda to see what he’d say. Hakoda stared at Sokka before he looked directly past him to at you “how would you like to lead your first duo mission Y/n?”. You grinned “I’d love to”. “Great, Sokka stick with y/n and do everything she says, do as she does and you’ll be just fine”. Sokka nodded and rushed to your side. “This is so cool” he whispered and you smirked as you helped him put on his armour. “Don’t get too excited these things can get dangerous quickly, stay with me okay?”. “And you’ll protect me?” Sokka asked batting his eyelashes but his smirk fell away when without a second thought you nodded “of course I will”. Your low voice filled with determination made Sokka blush and look away. “You ready?” you asked and Sokka nodded “ready” and you rushed into battle.

Sokka did exactly what you said and the battle was a success. He was impressed at how much you’d learned and how great a leader you were. You largely kept the fighting away from him by making yourself the bigger target but when Sokka did engage you were always on hand to help push away any fatal blows. Sokka got out of his first battle without so much as a scratch and it was all down to you. When Hakoda declared victory everyone began to cheer and Sokka grabbed you “That was....you were amazing out there y/n!” Sokka grinned and you smiled “it’s nothing...”. “Are you kidding? There were men there twice your age and size but you knocked them aside like they weighed nothing”. “Well what about you?” you asked “you’ve clearly been training a lot since we left, I take back everything I said about your boomerang it’s a great weapon”. “Wow you’re admitting you were wrong? You had changed” Sokka smirked and you smiled.

As this was the first battle Sokka has successfully fought in he was due his first-ever warrior braid. Hakoda explained it wasn’t a large ceremony, he basically just went into a tent without a braid and came out with one but still Sokka was nervous. Of course he’d practised them lots, all water tribe children did for the day they’d get to add one to their hair but now the day was finally here....he was very anxious.

Your POV

You waited with all the other men for Sokka outside the tent. It was taking a while and you wondered what was taking Sokka so long. “I’ll just check he’s okay” you told your fathers and walked through the flap of the tent. Sokka was fiddling with her hair muttering to himself angrily. He didn’t seem to like the type of plait he was making and would shake it out each time with an irritated mutter. “Sokka?” you asked and he jumped. “I can’t get it right!” he cried “I’ve been dreaming of this day since we were five but I can’t make it work. Sokka tried again seizing his hair tightly and you noticed his hands were shaking. You came to stand behind Sokka and pushed his hands away softly “let me”. You grabbed Sokka’s hair carefully and began to braid it into the traditional warrior plait pattern. Sokka watched and saw the concentration on your face as you twisted his hair effortlessly into a pattern. “There” you said softly tying a small band around it “your first warrior plait, is it okay?”. You held up a mirror and Sokka grinned at his reflection, he was finally a warrior! “I love it!” he cried “thank you y/n” and hugged you. You laughed and hugged Sokka back, “no problem, now come on let's show it off”. You and Sokka walked outside and Hakoda grinned. “My son is officially one of us” he cried and everyone broke out into cheers. 

Sokka’s POV

Everyone crowded around to congratulate him and Sokka’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. The celebrations were well underway and all the men were keen for Sokka to join them but after a courteous sweep of them Sokka found his way back to you.

You were sat on the outskirts of the camp staring out at the ocean. “Not one for festivities?” Sokka asked sinking beside you and you shrugged “I don’t mind them...but peace and quiet are just as appealing” you smiled “that’s hard to get with a camp full of men”. As if to prove your point a loud water tribe chant broke out and you both laughed. “Well let's go for a walk then” Sokka said jumping up and you followed him. You and Sokka walked towards the ocean and you asked him to carry on his story. He talked rapidly about the attack of the northern water tribe. You listened and just let Sokka’s words sweep over you. You were mainly just watching him amused at how many expression he could pull at once and had to look away to stop yourself from chuckling. When Sokka finished his tale and took a breath you smiled “wow that sounds...unreal!”. Sokka nodded “it was, a lot of things on my travel have been like that, from moon spirits to banished princes, i’ve seen it all!”. “You’re quite the explorer aren’t you” you commented and Sokka nodded “yep, and you’re quite the warrior, we’re certainly doing our tribe proud”. “That we are” you nodded and silence fell. You were sat close together and an idea suddenly struck him. What would you do if he placed his arm around you? He wasn’t sure what made him think that, you and he had always just been friends but now...Sokka wasn’t too sure why that was. Out of everyone in camp you were the person he’s been most excited to see and that didn’t feel just like friendship to him. Without really thinking, caught up in the moment, Sokka went to move his arm when you noticed his movement and glanced down at his arm. Sokka blushed and pretended he was scratching it. “Are you okay?” you asked and Sokka nodded “yep just my arm fell asleep”. “Ow that makes sense, you know for a second there I thought you were going to put it around me...”. Silence settled and you realised Sokka had been planning on doing that. Sokka was blushing vividly and you blinked unsure what to do or say. “Sokka i...” you started when you heard loud gasps from camp and both looked up to see Appa. Sokka frowned confused, Aang wasn’t due back for another three days but here he was. Aang soon dismounted and appeared in front of you both “Sokka! Good you’re still here...”. “Yeah we just got back a few hours ago” Sokka explained "Aang this is y/n my friend from the southern water tribe and y/n this is Aang the avatar". "Wow" you said wide-eyed "it’s amazing to meet you". Aang smiled but it was a tense smile "Sokka we have to go" he cried. Aang explained Katara was in danger and worry ran across Sokka’s face. “We have to leave now” Aang said and Sokka nodded “sure just give me two minutes”. Sokka spun around and you were surprised to see he looked nervous. The tension from earlier had gone, this was more serious. "Y/n i’m sorry but i have to go..." he started to explain nervously when you cut him off. "Of course you do" you cried "Katara needs you!". Sokka smiled sadly "i know but it’s been so nice to see you again after all this time, so I was thinking...would you want to come with me?". You were utterly taken back "go with you?". "Yeah, you could travel with us? It’s dangerous and we get attacked a lot but i bet a warrior like you can handle it". You paused "Sokka i’d really like to but i made an oath to our elders to fight in this war...i don’t think i can change it and come with you no matter how much i want to". Sokka’s smile slipped but he nodded his head "it’s okay i figured as much but thought it was worth a shot". You nodded and touched his arm "are you planning on coming back soon?". Sokka bit his lip "i don’t know and we really have to go...i’ll try okay, i really will so hopefully i’ll see you soon". You nodded believing him but also studied his face again in case you didn't see him for another 5 years. "I’ll come back I promise y/n" Sokka told you and you smiled hugging him "i believe you". Sokka melted into you when Aang’s noises of impatience made him pull away. "Until then keep up the good work" Sokka smiled saluting you. You saluted him back as he walked away and flew off on the air bison with the avatar. 

Sokka made Aang tell him absolutely everything and then they sat in silence waiting to arrive back in Ba Sing Sei. Fear filled Sokka’s mind but as scared as he was, you kept coming back into his mind. He wondered what you had been about to say before Appa arrived and wondered if you could possibly, maybe like him too. The fact he liked you was a new sensation for Sokka but he realised he had just been oblivious before and it had always been there. You had always been the one he came to, the one he liked being around the most, the one he cared about more than himself or anything. He’d always liked you he just hadn’t realised it. “Your hair looks nice” Aang said suddenly “the plait suits you”. Sokka touched it absentmindedly and smiled “my friend y/n did it for me”. “The girl you were with?”. Sokka nodded “yeah she’s my best friend”. Aang smiled “I bet it was nice to see her”. Sokka nodded “it really was” and blushed, he’d find a way to see you again and he’d been damned if he had to wait another five years.

Who needs lights?

Pairing: Durzub (Goth Male Orc) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warning: Suggestive Themes

This wonderful piece is based off a very lovely OC by @of-devils-and-drawings. Durzub belongs to her and I adored him too much not to make this for him. I’m a sucker for anything scary and/or orc.... and/or metal....and/or goth. 

---

You’d always found a little bit of comfort being in the alternative scene, even when others stared and watched in the street as you went past, going about your business, bundled in black layers or flares and platforms. It was something unique and different and it was very much a part of your life. The bars were always better places too. You laughed at the bar at your friend as the bar tender tied his platinum, lilac streaked hair back and started to mix the cocktail for the jug. It was easier to order in large pitchers and watch the band playing from the platform the bar was on. You watched the alcohol mix as the Fae grinned at you, revealing incredibly dangerous, sharp teeth and placed two straws into the jug before sliding it closer to the two of you.

You paid for it before laughing and turning a straw to the Faun, “To our health! Well, and my new job!” You cheered.

“Oh, for sure, finally you’re not broke and can pay for drinks!” She jeered as she pursed her lips and leaned down to take a few long sips, “Jesus Christ, Flix!” She coughed, “You trying to get us drunk and make us easy, or something?”

Flix rolled his eyes as he flipped a cocktail shaker over and caught it, “You wish Pip. You two haven’t ever been my type.” He snorted as his lilac, gossamer wings fluttered behind his back in irritation. He laid his burning black eyes on a group in the corner, “Though, I like the look of those troublemakers.” A claw raised to point at the group of Orcs who were gathered in the corner.

 Pip’s brown ears flicked before her hooves clicked against the black floor, the sparkly tiles reflecting the strobes from the stage. She grinned and flicked at the ring in her nose, her shaggy black hair flopping back over her dark eyes, “Oh,” She purred, “I didn’t know you were into the rowdy muscle-head sort.”

Flix flipped the cocktail again before giving her the middle finger and moving to serve the cocktail to a woman who had just come out of the crowd watching the band.

“Who are they?” You asked after taking a long drink of the cocktail, “I haven’t seen them here before?” You looked over at the group again before realising how perfectly they fit in here in the bar. All were dressed in a variety of fashion, from heavy leather, to chains, to netting. Others donned fancier items with flowing sleeves and long, tailored skirts and trousers. The majority were green in skin tone, but you looked at a few lighter coloured, grey toned orcs with interest as they were from the mountainous regions of the old country.

Pip clicked her tongue, “Muscle heads and trouble, the lot of them.” She took another few drinks before hopping back onto her bar stool and adjusting her net top over her ripped shirt. Around her waist was a thick leather belt, the studs dripping with thin metal chains that hung around her furry hips, “They come to shows like this and usually start fights.” She commented off-handedly.

 With a frown, you looked from her, to the group again, “They just seem to be drinking and watching?” You commented.

Pip snorted a short bleat again, “Yeah, wait until this gig really kicks off, then you’ll see what I mean. Last time I was here with them one of them decided it would be a great idea to upturn tables, and by that, I mean, upturn my drinks over my new dress.” She hissed venomously, “They’re assholes, the lot of them.”

“They don’t look like it…” You uttered as one of the Orcs stood from the group and dragged his friend up with him to get drinks. The rest of them hollered their orders before some of the group split off to join the crowd watching the band.

“Oh great. Here they come!” Pip cheered before moving two seats down and dragging you along with her.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Pip.” Flix commented with a hiss and flutter of his wings, “They’re all lookers, I don’t see why you can’t look past that.” He shrugged his shoulders before smiling at the two male orcs at the bar, “What can I do for you two handsome fellas?” His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings at them and you snickered at the scent of lilac flowers that drifted from him like a thick perfume.

 “Come on, Flix. Lay off it for one night will ya!” One of the orcs laughed before he elbowed his friend, “This guy’s new here. Don’t go scaring him off already. You lot need our custom.” The orc leaned back and scrubbed at his mohawk, adjusting his heavy cargo trousers. Fabric belts hung between the legs and down them and he wore a heavy half tartan kilt over the top. His face was littered with piercings and you could see why he looked like the sort to be causing problems.

“You know I love you all equally, Xurek.” Flix laughed, “But I was more excited for your lady friend over there. She’s new too huh?”

“Jesus, you never give up! Anyway,” Xurek took the other orc around the neck, “This is Durzub. He’s new in town. Just moved in from out from the sticks. He might look like a foul piece of work, but you’ve met Rakuh, so he’s not as scary.” Xurek laughed before he let the darker skinned orc go. The other male reached up to brush his black hair from his eyes. Most of his long black hair was braided in tight long threads, the braids sequenced with small beads along them with the rest straight and hanging over his shoulder beneath the wide brim of a black hat, emblazoned with a silver trim around the base. He turned, dressed in a black long shirt and coat, the end trailing behind him as he ducked out of Xurek’s grasp, brown eyes angry.

 Durzub snorted and tossed his head, the braids sliding back out of his way over his shoulder before he reached up to move his tangled chains from the ends of his hair, the necklaces hanging with silver teeth, “Will you stop dragging me around like a child, Xurek!” He snorted as he dragged his arm out of Xurek’s grasp and adjusted his hat again before sighing and taking it off, “Any way I could get you to store this behind the bar for me? Its new and these lot have a habit of throwing beer the later it gets.”

Flix fluttered his eyelashes again, “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He took the hat and turned around to hang it near the aprons, “Just grab me before closing and I’ll get it you.”

“Thank you.” Durzub rumbled before pulling his hair back again, tucking the straight length on his left side behind his ear, revealing rings of silver and studs of obsidian, which matched the rings, linked by a chain, on each of his short tusks.

“Don’t be nice to him, Durzub, he’ll eat you alive given the opportunity.” Xurek snickered behind his hand as he flapped his band shirt, trying to cool himself down, “His family ate children back in the day.”

“That was five hundred years ago!” Flix scoffed as he slammed two, pint glasses down on the bar, “So, was it two ales or two lagers?”

“We were thinking mead actually.” Xurek stuck his pierced tongue out before he played with the bar, “And not that piss water Weldrick buys for the goblins!” Flix ignored him and turned for the taps down the other end of the bar.

 Pip scoffed at the exchange, but you found your mouth opening at the sight of the long-haired orc and his scowl. He watched Flix’s wings before he turned away from Xurek’s chattering and pushed his hand over his mouth. You watched the exchange as Xurek stuck his tongue between the other’s fingers and couldn’t help but laugh loudly as Durzub cringed and recoiled.

“You’re fuckin’ disgusting.” Durzub rolled his eye and took a napkin from the holder to wipe the spit from his fingers and the skull rings which sat above his knuckles.

“Mmm, you taste like fresh meat.” Xurek hissed like a comically bad vampire, and you laughed again, but this time louder. It was loud enough that the two orcs looked down the bar to where you and Pip were sat with your cocktail jug.

“Well done! Now we have their attention.” Pip hissed in your ear before she kicked at your chair with one shoed hoof, clanking the metal with a vicious bang.

Xurek’s smile made you regret everything, as you watched his gaze shift from your face to the larger orc stood next to him, “Looks like we have an audience, Durzub.”

 The other male turned slightly on one heel, looking at you both with a raised eyebrow, looking over the two of you perched at the end of the bar, “Don’t mind this freak. He’s got a way of making everyone hate him.”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ cold!” Xurek hissed at him, “After I introduce you to those bands too!”

Durzub rolled his eyes again as Xurek slinked around him to laze across the bar on one arm, his head propped up on his fist, “Bands which have given me nothing but persistent headaches.”

“Headaches but three magazine features!” Xurek wound his middle finger up before he smiled at the two of you again, “Ignore him. He was castrated at birth.” The statement earned him another gruff noise from Durzub.

“We don’t want your attention, Xurek.” Pip gave him a sardonic smirk, “Not unless you’re replacing those drinks from last time.” She leaned on her own open palm and bared her teeth at him, her hoof clicking against the bar stool.

“You’re a cold bitch, Pip. You know that was an accident.” Xurek whined, “Highlander honour.” He crossed his heart, “Anyway, why don’t I introduce you to my new friend here?” He wrapped his arm around Durzub, making the other spill mead down his fingers as he dragged him over to the two of you, “This is Durzub. He’s a music producer, and part time good looker.”

 “You’re a music producer?” You asked in awe before you turned and looked at the stage, “Are you here for these guys?” You pointed at the industrial band on stage as the lights went low and they started the intro for their next song. At the back here it wasn’t as loud, and you could readily hear the two orcs.

“Yeah. They’re a new signing.” Durzub rolled his shoulders in a shrug, “I never really sign their sort, but it seems like they have a decent following.”

“Come on, mate, we’re here to chill out, not to talk work.” Xurek groaned and laid against the sticky bar top before recoiling in disgust.

“I know, you great oaf.” Durzub placed Xurek’s drink next to him, “Are you both here to see the show?” He asked, his voice slipping from ‘totally pissed off’ into something that was ‘gruff but polite’. Either way, his soft country accent made you smile before you took a few mouthfuls of cocktail for courage.

Pip answered before you could swallow, “We come on a Friday to wind down. The gigs are always just a bonus.”

 She shot a look at you with her dark, goat eyes, warning you from speaking as she steered the conversation, “What about you guys? You here to bother people on their nights off?”

“Well, we know where we ain’t wanted.” Xurek shrugged his shoulders at Pip’s rudeness, “Sorry to harass you, but you don’t have to be a salty asshole about spilt drinks, you know.” He watched Pip’s temper flare and you ducked back as she slammed her hand against the bar top.

“You listen here you little asshole!”

“Little?” Xurek scoffed, “I tower over you, babe.”

Pip gave a bleat of anger before she swept her leg around you and cracked Xurek in the shin, “It was my new dress you ass for brains!” She hissed at him before she stood up to walk around you and face the orc head on.

“What do you want me to say, huh?!” Xurek goaded, “Oh I’m so sorry that my accident ruined something I couldn’t stop. Get over yourself thinking I did it on purpose!” He fumed with anger.

You leaned back before hopping out of your chair, taking the jug of cocktail in one hand and a tall glass in the other before you turned to Durzub, “Hey come on. They’re going to be screeching for a while. Want to go and sit on the balcony and watch?”

 Durzub seemed a little taken back by the offer, “Oh, sure.” He uttered as he pulled Xurek’s drink away from him and then took his own in hand and following you towards the stairs, leading to the viewing area above the pit. You found two stools and a table and happily placed your drinks on it before leaning on the railing to look down at the band as they headbanged together on stage.

Durzub sat awkwardly for a moment before he coughed behind his head, “So, what is it that you do?” He asked as he leaned over the table, eyeing the mixture of liquor and fruit juice in your jug.

You turned from the show and smiled, “Oh nothing as interesting as music production. I just got hired at a new modelling agency.”

“Do you model then?” He asked with wide eyes, “Because you’re certainly…”

“Oh, God no. Nothing like that. I work with brands and secure deals and shoots. I work with Skull Crusher and Tombstone mostly.” You smiled and sipped cocktail through your straw.

Durzub tucked his hair back again with a sweep of his hand, “That explains the look then.” He smiled softly, “Do you get some sweet discounts?” He asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s never been cheaper to be a goth!” You cheered as you looked down at the rowdy beginnings of a mosh pit, then back to the bar.

 You gave a great laugh, “Well, looks like their argument is sorted.” You pointed at Xurek with his bruised cheek. He slammed back his drink before storming away into the pit, rushing through a mosh pit before his eyes caught sight of a human among the others. You grinned at his expression. Dumb struck.

“Jesus. I hope they’re ready to be pestered.” Durzub chugged a few mouthfuls of mead before he scoffed, “Whenever he gets that look, he ends up heartbroken a week later.”

“Well, it might be different this time, you know?” You smiled back at Durzub, “Maybe this is the one!” You cooed.

“You’ve got fairy tales in your head and cotton candy to go with it. He’s going to have a one-night stand then not shut up about her for the next three weeks.” Durzub held up three fingers as he drank some more, “Or he’ll relay every little detail to us on our next outing. He has zero filter.”  

“I can tell that much.” You laughed as you shuffled back in your seat, “What about you then, have you met your one?”

“My one?” Durzub scoffed, “Hardly. How old do you think I am?” He leaned on his fist and pointed back at himself, giving you a curious look.

 You felt like this was a trap, “Are you doing this so you can get mad when I guess wrong?” You asked as you pushed the ice around in the glass.

“Hardly. I’m not sensitive.” He grumbled as his painted fingers tapped against the side of the pint glass.

“Hmm, if you say so.” You leaned over the table to squint at his face. You’d worked with a few orcs before, but most were young models, sharp featured and tall, broad in the shoulders. Durzub was the same, though his face had wrinkles in places which would suggest he was far over twenty years old, “Thirty-six.” You decided with a smile.

Durzub let out a low laugh, “Not far off actually. I’m thirty-eight.” He pointed to the stage, “And I used to do that. Played in a band until about five years ago. Started as a producer then. Never looked back.”

“Oh wow. Who did you used to play with?” You asked in awe.

“A gothic rock sort of deal.” He replied before he looked into your pleading eyes, and relented, “Zi Gijak.”

“No way.” You rushed to stand from your seat as you recognised the Orcish name, “Black Blood!?”

 Durzub ducked his head, reaching for where his hat had sat before he realised, he wasn’t wearing it, “Keep your voice down, please.” He begged quietly, “I don’t need people in this place to recognise me.”

“How could they recognise you now? You look nothing like you did back in the day.” You stated before realising what you said sounded rude, “Not that you look bad now it’s just…”

He laughed at your awkwardness, “I know. I ditched the netting and bones a while ago.”

“You didn’t look half bad in it though, even five years ago.” You winked at him with a sudden rush of confidence, “Though I think this outfit suits you just as much.”

Suddenly, it was as though the intimidating exterior melted, and you watched Durzub’s face go flushed with embarrassment, “Thanks. It has been a change.”

Without making him any more embarrassed you changed the subject a little, “So what bands do you produce for now?” You asked.

“Quite a few. I used to work with SIREN before they got huge, but that sort of metal was never something I could do rather well, I thought.” He shrugged, “They’re with a more focused label now.”

“No way…This keeps getting better and better!” You uttered again.

 “Better and better for you. They were a headache and a half for me!” Durzub chuntered into his drink before he swallowed the last bits of it, “I’m glad they’ve moved up. They were good for business.” He smirked over the edge of the pint glass.

“Only thinking of the money.” You tutted playfully, “That’s no way to treat your bands.” You joked.

“Oh no, but that makes me feel better knowing my weekly migraines are worth the agony.” Durzub chuckled as he watched the band on stage, “These guys ain’t half bad for a show though. I think I picked the best from the bucket.”

“They have an interesting ensemble.” You smirked at the leather clad demoness as she slinked along the stage before she growled from her stomach, a crop landing against the hand of a handsy looking fan in the front.

“Interesting but it’s the sort of thing that gets you recognised.” Durzub noted as he watched, “This place is a refuge for all kinds of people. I’m glad Cal has got this place running with Weldrick.”

 “Who’s Cal? I’ve met Weldrick. Giant bright white minotaur, right? Build like a brick shit house with all the piercings?” You recalled.

Durzub nodded, “That’s him. He’s about eight foot tall too. Scariest mother fucker I ever did meet.” He shifted in his seat, “Cal is the co-owner, but he’s not around that often. He’s a vampire, but he’s not people fond.” The orc shrugged before offering you half a smile, “We all used to work together, believe it or not.”

“Wait…” Your mouth dropped open, “I’m actually stupid.”

“Cal was the singer of Black Blood. Weldrick ran our security back in the day.” He laughed at your open mouth before he leaned over to close your mouth with two large fingers. He brushed his fingers over your chin before leaning back and pointing to your drink, “Do you want anything else?”

“I’m okay thanks. I’ll keep your seat warm.” You joked as he stood up with a nod and grumbled about having something better than ‘shitty mead’.

 “I’ve never seen Durzub ever sit and talk with someone in a bar.” A deep, gravelly voice rang out from behind you. You turned around in your chair to see a tall, human looking male watching you, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he regarded you with a mild amount of curiosity from over the lenses. He reached out a hand awkwardly, “Cal.”

“As in…” You took his hand, and flinched at the stone coldness of his grip, “Co-owner of the bar, Cal?”

“The very same.” He shook your hand lightly before his hand disappeared quickly back into his pocket, “I just came to say hello. I was curious. He hates attention in these kinds of places…”

“Just like you then, apparently.” You observed as you turned on your seat to face him. He was a giant man, but stony cold, and overly pale, looking almost grey around his reflective, steel-coloured eyes. They shone red as he turned, the bouncing curls of black hair spilling over his shoulders before he reached for a cigarette packet and cursed, seeing it was empty with only his lighter inside.

 “Cal?” Durzub returned with a large looking ale in his hand, “Weird time to show yourself. Unless you were planning to steal this one for a snack, hmm? As usual.” He scoffed.

“You know I’ve been off the blood for years…” Cal whispered as he rummaged in his other back pocket, before finding a small, slim packet of chewing gum, “I don’t…”

“Yeah. Save it. That’s what you said last time, Clarence.” Durzub huffed into his drink.

Cal’s back went ridged before he stooped over and unfolded the wrapper of his gum, “You don’t get to call me that.” He whispered again, his gravelly tone rumbling in the back of his throat before he slunk away, back into the shadows, and disappeared in a shadowy wave of his black hair.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Durzub rumbled from across the table, “Its…complicated.”

You span back around and smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I think Pip had more of a fight with Xurek.” You snickered as you turned to spy her sat at the bar, batting her eyelashes at Flix as he served, “Though I think she’s okay now. She’s turned her eyes on a certain someone.”

Durzub looked down at the bar and laughed as well, “Well I guess you know her type now.” He joked as he sipped at his ale.

“Yep. Scary pretty boys, who aren’t part of your friends.” You snickered as you sipped at the last of your cocktail and refreshed the glass.

 The band on the stage purred their final song as you took another drink, and you looked at your phone with wide eyes at the time.

“I have to get up tomorrow for errands.” You lamented, looking at the clock. It was almost midnight, and you knew Pip would be here for hours if you left her to her own devices.

“So, this is where the night ends.” Durzub laughed before he finished the last of his own drink, “Here.” He tugged out his phone, “Let me give you my number?”

You nodded and took your phone out to exchange numbers before checking it was working and showing him the message came through okay.

“Thank you for tonight.” You smiled at him, “We should do this again.” You leaned over and carefully placed a kiss on his flushed cheek, “For an grumpy music producer, you’re funny to be around.” You took your bag and looked at Xurek, who was busy pressing a human against the far wall, “And look after Xurek, huh? Looks like he might just get himself into trouble again.” You descended the stairs just as the orcs started cheering for the male and shook your head.

 After speaking to Pip, and confirming she had a taxi to get home, you exited the bar and shivered in the cold, before you felt a warm presence behind you, and a hand catch your own.

“Hey!” Durzub grunted as he caught your hand, “Let me walk you home?” He asked, “No way in hell I’m staying to watch those lot gawk at Xurek strip a human down.” He sneered. His sneer softened as you interlinked your fingers together and squeezed his hand before looping an arm through his own, leaning into his body heat.

“Sure. You can walk me home.” You leaned into his arm again and smiled, “I live three blocks away, so it’s a bit of a short walk.”

“Better to spend time with you.” Durzub whispered before he looked at the night sky, “I’m still sorry about what happened with Cal…”

“Honestly, it never happened, okay?” You patted the orc’s large arm, “We all have our differences and reasons.”

“Still. I was rude.” He huffed before he reached for his hat and tugged at the brim, “I’m glad I got to meet you at least tonight.” You tried to ignore the way he tugged at his bottom lip before he adjusted the decorative chain over his lip and smiled, still a little awkward.

“Me too.” You purred back at him.

 The messages started off polite between the two of you, but it was quickly a regular thing for you both to message back within a minute or two depending on if Durzub was working in the studio or you were in meetings. You were both enamoured. It didn’t take long for you both to meet again, eating together in a restaurant which was a little bit too expensive for you. It was high end, and suited Durzub as he sat there eating, looking intimidating as he ate couscous and chopped vegetables before smiling and blushing with embarrassment as you complimented him and his outfit. For such a giant orc, with a bigger scowl, he was softened whenever you said something nice. Several nights together on dates lead to this one, finally going to his studio to see what he did, and to listen to something he had been working on. Excitement churned in your gut as you looked at the choker around your neck and touched the spikes around its surface before flicking the dog tag and grinning at yourself before you rushed for the door to meet Durzub.

 “Hey!” You shouted at the orc. He was stood out on the pavement, dressed in an old print of a Black Blood shirt with a screaming orc and vampire on the front, blood dripping from both of their mouths. He was dressed in dark jeans, littered with pocket chains and a heavy leather duster to combat the cool breeze. He looked up from beneath his broad rim hat. Instantly, Durzub’s perpetual scowl turned into a small smile, and you took hold of his hand before leaning up to kiss his cheek before placing a soft kiss against his bottom lip. He was always a little slow to catch up, but he returned the kiss with a gentle rub of his tusks to your chin.

“Hey stranger.” He rumbled before he gestured to the building, “My studio is on the sixth floor.”

“This doesn’t look much like a record label building to me.” You hummed as Durzub led you into the reception. A naga waved him on up with you, looking back at her work with a hiss and a grumpy frown.

“Not yet it doesn’t. Wait until we get into the actual building. This is just the polite front for greeting people.” The elevator dinged as he pressed the button and the two of you climbed inside. He pushed the button for the sixth floor and you jittered with anxiety as it moved upwards slowly.

“I’m excited and nervous.” You whispered as the doors opened on floor two and let some more people in.

“Don’t be, baby. You’ll be fine.” Durzub soothed as you continued up.

 The sixth floor was littered with records on the walls, gold, red, black and mixed dyes. You looked along the walls before Durzub tugged you down the carpeted hall. You followed a step or so behind, trying to read the framed records as you toddled behind him, little out of your depth. Durzub’s coat trailed behind him and you moved to not step on it as he stopped at his door. He unlocked it with a click of an electronic card and you watched the black door swing open to reveal the sound room.

“Wow.” You stepped inside in front of him and looked at the expensive sound equipment, keeping your hands to yourself to avoid being told off or ruining anything, “This is some expensive gear.” You grinned at him, “And pretty.” You peered past the soundproof glass to see the guitars and drum kit in the recording box and smiled at the pointed-v design one, knowing it was from when he played with Black Blood.

“I knew you’d spot that one.” Durzub said mildly before he threw his coat over a speaker and collapsed into his large office chair, the leather making him shiver with the cold against his arms, “This is where I spend most of my life, making kids realise that riffs are stupid in the wrong places.” He scoffed before tugging you a chair from the other soundboard and patting it, “Come sit. I have some things to show you.”

 Carefully, you placed your coat on top of Durzub’s before joining him by the large computers, eyeing the two screens as he logged in, squinting at the screen.

“Fuck. Glasses.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled free a set of circle frame glasses, putting them on before cringing and looking back at you, “Not as young as I used to be…”

“You look cute in them.” You gushed as you scooted the roller chair forwards and made sure to sit as close to him as possible, “Being able to see is important, even if you don’t look as scary with glasses on.” You teased.

“Yeah…” He let the words drop off as he found what he was looking for and pulled free two sets of expensive headphones. Durzub leaned over and gently tucked them over your ears, holding them and holding up an ‘okay’ sign before he donned his own and pressed play. He leaned back in his chair and you sat impatiently before the noise of a gentle synth graced your ears, opening with a gentle melody before a guitar followed the same rhythm before chugging to life with slow riffs. It was gentle somehow still as the guitar started on a slowly moving rhythm along into the beginnings of a verse, sung by a vocalist you recognised as Durzub. The lyrics lilted about roses on a hill, growing in a graveyard around a forgotten tombstone before you grinned at the references to old vampire movies that the two of you enjoyed. The chorus was met with a litany of soft guitar and synth before a drum solo full of soft cymbal carried on. It was something made for the two of you, and you wondered just how long Durzub had spent making this song. Looking at the poorly hidden bags under his eyes, you figured it had been most nights after work.

 In the closing synth of the son, you laid your head against Durzub’s arm, against the tattoo of the roses around the gravestone. You pressed your lips to his skin gently before smiling and tugging the headphones down to around your neck, smiling up at the orc. Durzub copied the motion with another small smile, reaching to stroke at the top of your head

“That was beautiful. It’s hard to believe you made that just for me.” You whispered against his warm skin as the orc flushed with embarrassment, “Did you mean the part about making love on graves?” You teased gently before you slipped from your own chair, and into his lap, your fingers sliding up over the tattoos on his arms, tracing the thorns of the roses down before you traced the edge of the stem curling over his collar bone.

“Maybe not. Stone gives you a bad back.” He rumbled as his pupils went wide, watching your fingers as they slipped under the collar of his t-shirt, “But I would worship you just the same.” His hands moved from the computer to your hips, his fingers pressing into the meat of your backside before he leaned forwards to kiss you. You gladly accepted the advance, kissing the orc back, your tongue licking at his lips before you traced the rings around his tusks and wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

 A soft moan escaped Durzub’s mouth as you pulled away. His lips were puffy and you leaned forwards to bite his lip, enjoying the second croak that escaped him as you leaned back on his thighs.

“What about this desk?” You asked under your breath.

Durzub grumbled, “There’s a lot of…” Your hand meeting his crotch shorted his brain for a moment, “I can make room.” He grumbled before he pushed the keyboard and monitor aside, leaving the desk free for you both. You laid back over the wood and grinned as you tugged on one of his tusks, forcing his face down so you could lay another kiss on his lips. Durzub moaned again as you reached up into his dark hair, tugging the braids at his scalp.

“Maybe you should make good on your song lyrics.” You purred as you kissed his cheeks and then bit at his neck before sucking a mark under his ear.

“Fuck.” Durzub hissed before he leaned over you, his fingers tugging at your clothes before he admired the collar around your neck and gave it a tug, “I hope you didn’t have any other plans.”

 Neither of you saw the audio recording button flashing red.

 ‘Everything was recorded. I’m keeping it. See you at the bar. x’

Summertime, And The Livin’s Easy- a black sails fic prompt fill

this became incredibly long so instead of just posting it with the ask i’ve made it’s own post 

@themelonface​ asks- For the fic prompts (if you're still taking them), silverflint talking about children. Can be AU, can be set during or after canon. I just have a feeling Miranda never wanted any, Thomas was too wrapped up in the fight for equality to need anything more than cats, but maybe James would have wanted kids in another life.

HERE MY DARLING HAVE THE FIRST OF hopefully TWO PROMPT FILLS because i want to write a post canon ficlet for this ask as well. 

but for now have modern au silverflint (and hamilton at the end) and the discussion of children 💕

cw for mentions of child abuse and shitastic fathers!!! but theres nothing graphic mentioned or shown. 

***

It was the hazy space between what would have been brunch on a weekend and the corporate lunch time rush and the start of cocktail hour on every other day when half the bars in Brooklyn Heights hadn’t actually opened their doors yet and those that had were serving sandwiches and day drinking friendly cocktails.

 The Walrus was one of the latter.

Silver slid off his bar stool as the last member of the aforementioned lunch rush stepped out the door and leaned against the polished bar top with a bright grin. “How you holding up, honey?” Muldoon rolled his eyes. “Please, a corpse could make an aperol spritz.” “I doubt a corpse could make that many of them that quickly.” “Flattery might work on other men,” Muldoon said, as he always did, with a wag of his tattooed finger and a smile fighting to show on his face. “But it will not work on me.” “Are you sure? Cause you were pretty sexy with those martinis. Remind me why its always vodka?” “Your boyfriend has told you that a dozen times already, I know it for a fact, you shit.” “Okay but maybe I wanna hear you explain it. Again,” Silver said, propping his chin on his hands and putting on his best Cheshire smile, throwing in a slight batting of the lashes just for Muldoon’s sake. They played this game every time Silver wasted away a few hours at the bar, which he was starting to do more and more often. He’d joke with Flint that it was only out of boredom, but in truth, he felt safe there, nestled in the corner with his laptop or acting as an honorary member of the staff when they needed some help. He didn’t want to dwell too much on it, on why he felt so safe there or why after so many years he was once again feeling so painfully devoted to the same group of men who’d despite everything, seen him through hell. Muldoon sighed, his hands making quick work of filling the high powered steam dishwasher under the counter. He pushed it closed with his hip and looked up at Silver, finally cracking a smile. “Do you want to help me run bar for a bit, love? While it’s quiet?”

Silver was behind the bar before Muldoon could even consider changing his mind. He did pause to duck into the kitchen quickly, where the two line cooks- Randal and Dooley- were working on their mise en place and Vane was wedged into the alley doorway with a cigarette in his mouth, recovering from the lunch rush. His long hair was carefully tied up in a braided bun and covered in a bandanna, ears lined as always with half a dozen hoops a piece. “Why do you look like you just ate a canary?” Vane asked around his smoke. “No reason. Where’s the Captain?” Vane nodded to the walk in pantry where Flint was likely checking stock counts, “he’s in a mood again.” “When isn’t he? When he’s done tell him to come up to the bar I’ve got a surprise,” Silver said, still wearing that grin, and Vane laughed with a nod, going back to watching the alley behind the bar. “Alright come on you flirt-” Muldoon called, and Silver quickly washed his hands and snagged one of the spare aprons Hal kept behind the bar. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to make a cocktail, he played bartender for house parties all the time. But there was something different about learning to do it properly, from Muldoon who clearly took great pride in it, and in a place that was quickly becoming a second home to him. An hour in, and several successful cocktails later, Muldoon allowed Silver to help him actually fill orders for the few customers they got, though it wasn’t many. Flint still had not resurfaced from the kitchen, and so Silver kept his focus on the recipes Muldoon had him run through- proper martinis and Manhattans, Mojitos and mules, mezcal margs and all the things you could do with the collection of Amaros and aperitifs behind the bar. The customers were students on their way home from morning classes, morning shifters heading home or stopping for some food before the evening shift at their second job started, regulars who stopped in for lunch because no one made a cuban quite as well as their kitchen did.   And then the door chimed and Silver looked up with his customary smile and greeting ready, waiting to see where the guests might seat themselves- the host wouldn’t be in till four when the official dinner service started- and found himself staring at, well, children. Six of them, all too young to be in a bar unsupervised even before happy hour but probably even too young to be wandering around Brooklyn by themselves as it was. The older two definitely had the hardened older sibling with “semi absent if not entirely absent parents” look around them, Silver knew that look far too well, though whether the four younger kids were siblings or just under their care he couldn’t be sure. All of them were wearing some variation of public school uniform which Silver recognized from the public school a few blocks away. “Hey Nicki,” Muldoon said with a wave, and one of the older kids with short messy dark hair and equally dark eyes waved back. Silver looked at Muldoon quickly with raised brows. “Do me a favor go find Flint, okay? Tell him the kids are up front.” Silver just nodded, watching as Nicki and the other older kid shepherded the younger kids into the big corner booth closest to the bar without being told to, and slipped into the kitchen. Vane was at the prep table, knife in hand and making quick work of a cut of meat. He didn’t look up when he heard the door swing open but tilted his head expectantly. “Flint?” Sliver asked. “Smoke break, should be about done. Said he was coming up to see you in a minute.” Silver threw open the back alley door and there was Flint, propped up against the wall with a beaten up paperback on his knee and a forgotten cigarette in his hand. He looked up at him with a frown. “Hey whats wrong? You set the bar on fire with a flaming mojito or something?” he said, wearing a rare teasing smile. “Not yet but theres like, half a kindergarten class upfront.” Flint blinked, looked at his watch, and swore, “shit they must’ve let out early cause of the heat.” “Darling, what in the hell are you talking about.” Flint stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it in the ashtray by the door, kissing the top of Silver’s head as he passed. “I’ll explain in a minute- Vane! Leave the dinner service I need you on the meal kits with me-” “Already started on them,” Vane said, waving the knife idly as he portioned the meat into rather exact ready to cook portions. Flint nodded and washed his hands. “Dooley wheres those sandwiches I told you to fix-” “Here boss.” “Silver,” Flint loaded up six plates of sandwiches onto two serving trays and passed the lighter of the two to Silver. “Take one of these out with me ‘kay?” Silver nodded and balanced the tray on his shoulder, following Flint out of the kitchen. The bar was still mostly empty, Muldoon hanging out at the corner of the bar closest to the kids, making them each a Shirley Temple and passing Nicki a pitcher of water for them to share. Normally, Silver would’ve made some smart ass remark about how apparently it was normally for a bunch of kids to just turn up at the bar for lunch but something about this felt different and something in the set of Flint’s shoulders told him to stay quiet. “Let me guess the AirCon crap out again?” Flint asked upon reaching the table. “Or did one of you sabotage it to get out early?” The younger kids all started talking at once, bursts of loud excitement at seeing Flint, and the food, all wanting to explain why they had been let out of school a little bit early that day. Nicki and the other older kid, Sola, helped distribute the plates of food with smiles and nods of thanks while Flint listened intently to the kids’ rambling and incoherent explanations.   Once the young-ins were distracted by the sandwiches, Nicki offered a more coherent explanation. “Yeah they said the AC’s gonna be out till tomorrow with the heat, so they’re closing school till Monday,” he said. “Three day weekend I guess, without the extra homework since the teachers didn’t have time to prepare for any.” “Nice. Gonna meet your friends at the bridge park tomorrow? You mentioned wanting to get your kick flips more polished.” Nicki shook his head, looking bitter about it. “Can’t, busted up my front bearings and wheels on a ride home last week, won’t be able to afford to fix it for a bit. S’fine though, got chores to do.” Flint nodded, leaning back against the bar with his arms lazily crossed over his middle. “Do me a solid and bring the board by tomorrow okay? I think one of my guys might have some spare parts they’re not using.” Silver felt something in him break a little at the way the boy’s face lit up at Flint’s words. Or maybe it was at the ease with which Flint handled the kids, the openness he showed them, listening to how their days had gone, if only in brief, listening to their problems, which to them seemed world ending- Sola’s internet was out for the weekend, so she’d be at the library doing homework on Friday and probably most of the weekend when she wasn’t helping at her aunt’s salon, the little ones would all be shuttled to various relatives until Monday until they went back to school and Sola and Nicki, or another of the older kids in their building would take charge of them again. One of the younger kids was staring at Silver, her sandwich half held to her mouth. Just staring, bright brown eyes fixed on him in that quizzical way that children possessed that always made Silver feel transparent. Flint noticed and followed her gaze with an amused grin, waving for Silver to come over to join them instead of hiding behind the bar with Muldoon.  Silver looked at him wide eyed for a moment, then at the kids, specifically the little girl who was staring him down like a gunslinger, and then back at Flint, who just reached for him. Damn the bastard, he knew that was all it ever took. Silver came over and let Flint pull him in under his arm, feeling like a bug under the microscope in a science class he never attended but had heard about from other people. “You have pretty hair,” the little girl said. She was missing her two front teeth and Silver wanted to melt. “Thank you. You have big eyes.” “Yeah. They see a lot,” She said nodding solemnly. Silver could feel Flint shifting with the effort it took not to laugh. “They’re a pretty color. They remind me of this stone called tiger’s eye,” Silver continued. He could see Nicki giving Flint a look, though he didn’t know what Flint was doing in response. The little girl tilted her head. “Whats that?” So Silver pulled out his phone and showed her, which lead to a short lesson in gemstones that mostly amounted to excited cries of “oh shiny” and “I’d steal that one” which did Silver’s heart good. “This is Silver, a friend of mine who just moved back to town. He’s helping out round here. So he and I are gonna go fix your take away bags,” Flint said, once the momentary fascination in gemstones had faded and the kids were once again fixed on their plates. “Sola, you and Nicki just let Muldoon know if you guys need anything, or stick your head in the kitchen and yell okay? We’ll hear you. C’mon Silver.” If Silver had hoped for an explanation, he didn’t get one. Once he and Flint crossed the threshold back into the kitchen there was work to be done- Randal and Dooley handled the orders brought to them from the waitstaff while Flint and Vane, with Silver doing whatever Flint told him to, made quick work of assembling meal kit after meal kit from dishes both on and off the bar’s menu. Everything was boxed up and taped shut, paired with pre-typed instructions on how to cook the meals and how many servings each would make, and tucked into sturdy double layered brown bags that would hopefully survive a trip across the neighborhood. As they were finishing twenty minutes later, Hal’s voice could be heard through the window behind the bar, which answered Silver’s most pressing question- did he know that Flint was just running a school cafeteria out of the bar? Apparently yes, and apparently the kids were just as excited, if not more so, to see “Uncle” Hal. Because of course they called him Uncle Hal, why wouldn’t they. God, Silver was going to have to book a fucking dentist appointment for all the tooth rot the sweetness of this was giving him. He helped Flint carry out the bags of food, Vane insisting the kids would be too scared of him while Flint argued that Vane was just scared of the kids, and Silver watched as Hal and Flint got the bags labeled for each child and into a push cart that Sola promised to bring back the next day when she passed on her way to her Aunt’s salon. He then did his very best not to pass away on the spot as each kid, even Nicki and Sola, hugged Hal goodbye. Flint had crouched down to say good by to the little ones, accepting their clumsy hugs, reminding them to be careful walking home, and asking them to recite the bar’s phone number for him just in case (though Silver was sure they probably had cellphones, even if they were elementary schoolers), before he stood and gave Nicki and Sola each a one armed hug and watched them shepherd the group outside again. “Only group today?” Hal asked and Silver thought his voice sounded a bit heavy. “So far. Powers out at their school though, likely a couple others’ll come by later. Want me to call around to the other bars and see if they’ve heard anything?” “Yeah call the food bank and the closest shelter too for me, see if we can’t drop off our end of night supply to them this weekend.” Later, several more hours of food prep and three more groups of wary looking kids who all seemed completely unafraid of Flint and his crew, plus a Thursday night dinner rush, and Silver finally got his explanation. He also thought he should have gotten the nobel prize for being able to keep his mouth shut for as long as he did. “So are we gonna talk about it?” Flint was sitting on the floor in front of him, half asleep already between his thighs, as Silver combed his hair. They had taken home food from the bar and shared a six pack between them on the deck, Thomas held up at a Client dinner where he was no doubt being wined and dined and bored to absolute tears. They had treated themselves then to a hot bath, with the jets, and were now just wasting time with the kind of nonsexual intimacy that Silver had learned he craved with Flint, waiting for Thomas to join them so they could all manage a good nights sleep. “Talk about what?” Flint asked, his voice a heady rumble. “The kids. And why they knew to just wander into a bar on a Thursday,” Silver said, keeping his voice gentle. He coated his hands in more product and worked it into the shaved sides and back of Flint’s head, massaging his scalp as he went. “Why you and Hal and the rest of the crew seemed completely unphased by it.” Flint hummed lowly, nearly a purr as he leaned into Silver’s touch. They’d settled into the bedroom Thomas and Flint shared, like they did most nights since it had the nicest adjoining bathroom and all the obnoxiously nice hair and skin care products. Silver sat in the old plush armchair, bundled up in a robe while Flint, naked and content to air dry, leaned into him, a picture of ginger hair, rich freckles, and well loved tattoos on a soft strong figure. If Silver hadn’t been so distracted by the day, he’d have been more appreciative. “S’not that big a deal. Lots of families round here with young kids, can’t keep an eye on them between working two or three jobs, haven’t got money for babysitters or relatives to watch ‘em, or enough to cover food for the week, especially when the public schools can’t feed em. You start to notice which kids it is, when they pass by, which schools they go to, which blocks.” “In Brooklyn Heights?” “They don’t live in this neighborhood, Silver, you know that, not all of Brooklyn has been gentrified to shit by the developers. Hell walk a few blocks east towards the tech school and you’ll find a lot of them. Or south towards Bayridge. Anyway, the groups you met today are all right from Downtown Brooklyn, they go to school nearby you’ve seen them.” “Yeah I just… I dunno, you see so much of the multi-million dollar condos I guess you forget thats not all theres is.” “Nicki lives with his mom, his dad walked out and she’s working two jobs to keep the one bedroom they share over on Jay street. He’s only thirteen but he tried getting a job with me washing dishes last summer, I turned him down, sent him home with some food for his trouble,” Flint continued. Silver smiled, he could picture the scrappy dark haired boy trying to square up with Flint, trying to convince him he was old enough to legally work. “Let me guess he wasn’t the first.” “Won’t be the last either. If they aren’t working for the family to earn some extra money or to cut back on hiring expenses they’re looking for shifts somewhere to pick up the slack. They’re losing out on being kids all because the rent keeps going up and there ain’t shit else to do about it other than leave. And a lot of them can’t even afford to do that.” There was a familiar grit to Flint’s voice, the old bitter salt that meant someone had touched a nerve. It scared other people, but Silver knew it just meant Flint was, for the moment, being vulnerable with him. “Were you Nicki once? Trying to bully your way into work?” Silver asked softly. He reached for the comb again and sectioned off a part of Flint’s hair to start working with. Flint was quiet a moment. “Yeah. Yeah worked the docks a bit as a boy, most kids did it to earn pocket money or to help out with the bills.” “Which was it for you?” “Granddad only had his pension. And he spent that on booze. So whatever I earned at the docks helping the fishermen, or from pickpocketing, that was what bought food. Kept the lights on, shit like that. I told you once, that I met Henessy that way, picking his pocket.” Silver laughed softly. “I do remember. You technically succeeded, didn’t you?” “Mm, he only caught me cause someone snitched. Broke that fuckers nose real good I’ll tell you.” They were quiet for a moment, Silver combing Flint’s hair with impossible care, working his fingers through any knots he found, before following with product and conditioner, Flint grew heavier and heavier against him, warm and soft and his. “So you and Hal decided to do something, the way you always do?” Silver asked. “Hm? Oh yeah- city isn’t doin’ much, food banks and schools are already over run, and when school holidays hit, they can barely keep up demand for kids who need free meals. So we got a few other bars involved, met with some schools and the food banks and sent out some notices and just- started feeding people. I mean thats why Hal wanted to open the bar you know? You feed people and you give them everything. You feed them and they’ll do the rest. So thats what we did. In a week or two when the schools are out for the summer we’ll have a couple trucks that’ll make deliveries, so the kids don’t have to come to the bar.” Silver hummed and kissed his temple. “You’re sweet.” “Am not.” “You’ll let me help, right? Prep the meals and stuff?” Flint tipped his head back to look up at him. “You want to?” “Yeah. This altruistic thing is new to me, as is the cooking for fun thing but… it matters, to you, any idiot can see that. And I want to be part of it.” Silver smiled and leaned down to kiss him best he could. He could feel Flint smiling into the upside down kiss. “You’re really good with them too, you know, which please don’t take this the wrong way, I did not expect,” he added when he pulled back. “What with the kids?” “Yeah.” “Oh no offense taken I have no idea how it happened. They just aren’t afraid of me for some reason. I fully expected them to be, mind. I used to think I had the kind of face that would make babies and small children cry but apparently they just, I dunno, think I’m alright.” “They trust you, thats a big deal for kids. Especially ones who have clearly been let down by other adults. I mean you also talk to them like they’re just tiny adults which probably helps.” “They’re gonna be adults one day, might as well treat them with dignity well before they realize they should be fighting for it, you know?” Silver smiled softly, “Sometimes I don’t think you realize how magnificent you are, you bastard.” Flint didn’t say anything, just blindly reached for Sliver’s hands so he could pull him closer. So silver set aside the comb and rested his chin on the top of Flint’s head, wrapping his arms around him and holding tight to his weathered, tattooed hands. “You were good with them too, once you stopped being scared of them,” Flint offered. “Kids scare me, I’ve never spent enough time around them to learn how to make them happy. They’re so easy to hurt, so easy to damage. And extremely durable, extremely resilient but… I dunno… Just never trusted myself and never had the opportunity to do more than amuse them for a few minutes at a time before vanishing into thin air like Santa Claus.” “Well, you’ll have plenty of practice at the bar. I still think you were good with them. Little Sylvie likes you at least.” “Not as much as they love you.” Silver thought a moment. “Hey…” “Hm?” “Have… Have you and Thomas ever talked about kids?” It was a heavy question, one that might have been too much too soon and a part of Silver wished he hadn’t asked it. But there had been such a softness in Flint’s face when he’d spoken to the children, a kindness and a focus in his attention that meant he’d put time and effort into his actions, into making sure what he was doing was what the kids needed in that moment. It wasn’t just an adult slumming it with the neighborhood kids cause he had nothing better to do, it was almost, dare Silver think it, Paternal in nature. Paternal and the dread Captain Flint being used in the same sentence had not been something Silver had ever considered as possible, and yet- And yet it was, and it had piqued the old curiosity. Flint was quiet again, though he didn’t pull away or let go of Silvers hands, so Silver trusted that he hadn’t upset him. Silver held him tightly, turning his head to rest his cheek on Flint’s hair and wait patiently for him to speak. “Its complicated, pup.” “You don’t have to tell me. I was just curious. I never thought of you as a dad until today but now I’m… I won’t lie a part of me is still thinking about it.” There was a soft shuddering sound and Silver felt Flint shift in his arms, curling tighter in on himself for a moment before trying to settle again. Silver held tight, pressing his face into his hair. It took another moment or two, and several deep breaths, but Flint eventually spoke. “Thomas and Miranda were expected to have children when they married,” he said lowly, “all wealthy families expect heirs. But Miranda didn’t want to go through pregnancy and Thomas wasn’t sure if he could sire so they found ways of putting it off and focusing on Thomas’ political career. Thomas… he wanted to save the world, I’m sure for a while he thought he couldn’t allow himself thoughts of a future until that was done.” Silver hummed. That did sound like Thomas. Even now, with the chip on his shoulder and the somewhat colder view of the world, he still seemed to think he could save it. Silver wasn’t about to point out that Flint still seemed to think the same way. “And after everything I dunno I guess it just took so much time to remember how to be living, breathing people again, that children were never part of the consideration,” Flint said with a shrug. There was a weight to his voice, an emptiness that had Silver frowning slightly in surprise. “How can you care for a child when you’ve only just come back to life? When you’ve only just found reason to stay alive? It- Any child we brought into our lives would have been at risk, back then for certain, though I’m not sure a child would be better off now and besides with how much we work its not like-” “James,” Silver said softly, lifting his head, “you’re rambling.” Flint went still in his arms, still as if waiting for the lash that he knew would never come, but waited for all the same. The readiness with which Flint expected violence broke something in Silver, just as much as it felt like a mirror, smudged and smoky and cracked with age. “Is this your way of saying you want to be a father, but the thought of it terrifies you?” Silver asked. “The things I’ve done,” Flint said in a rough voice, “The stains my hands have carried- I’d see them every time I held my child. That’s my fear, I think. That I’d see them, and that violence would stain them as well.” He paused. Silver held him, hiding his own face. It was easier, they had learned, to talk about such things like this, with Flint’s back to Silver, their faces just hidden enough to give the illusion of control. How many secrets had they shared like this? Silver was losing count. “I was raised by a drunken old sailor and a bastard of a navy man who brought nothing but ruin- what could I ever give a child, John?” Flint asked, his hands white knuckle tight on Silver’s, his eyes the deep green of the sea, ghostly and far away. “What could I give them but that same ruin?” And what could Silver say in the face of that? So he said nothing, just nodded and kissed Flints throat until the tension in his shoulders softened and Flint settled back against Silver’s body to rest, weary and still haunted, but at least no longer at knife point in his own home. Silver went back to brushing his hair, singing softly to him as he worked, until Thomas came home and they were able to find more pleasant ways to spend their evening than discussing the sins of one’s father. They didn’t talk about the possibility of children again, not for the whole of the summer. They helped the food banks and the neighborhood families as best they could through the summer, made sure whatever kids stopped by the bar or the kitchen door in the alley left with something to eat, on the house. Thomas made sure checks were written to the shelters and the food banks that needed them, that the families that needed childcare could get it free of charge. They got through the summer, and the conversation never arose again. Silver just kept the thought of Flint holding a bright eyed child that sometimes looked like Thomas’ kid, and sometimes looked like his own, locked away safely in his heart and didn’t examine it too closely. Then Idelle had her baby in August. In October they held a two month belated baby shower for her at The Walrus, so the crew could meet little Wesley Ira Featherstone and his father, bless him, could cry with his crew mates about how proud he was while Idelle had her first stiff drink in over a year. Rackham was there, of course, as the boy’s God father (Silver was delighted by the idea because Rackham was absolutely as terrified by the concept as he was as honored) and Wesley took to him as well as any two month old possibly could. But when it came to crying babies, Rackham didn’t know what to do, and Hal the God Father to all and obvious baby whisperer was back in the kitchen unable to assist. And so Thomas and Silver watched as Flint, who seemed to be acting without really thinking about what he was doing (outside of scolding Rackham who was himself on the verge of tears) scooped up the baby and promptly rocked him calm within moments. “How did you-” Rackham stared at him in shock. “If you didn’t fuckin panic all the time then he wouldn’a started crying,” Flint growled at him, which Wesley found hilarious, if the slew of gurgling giggles was anything to go by. Silver watched, feeling his face split into a ridiculous smile, as Flint refused to give the baby back to Rackham until he’d sobered up, and instead let Idelle tie a sling around his chest to tuck Wesley into, so he could still fix drinks and use his hands while keeping the baby safe. “Sure you don’t want me to take him back?” she asked, Max watching with an amused smile. “You’ll have plenty of him soon, I got ‘im. Just give Rackham a 101 on how to actually hold a baby.” Silver leaned into Thomas as they watched Flint from their seats at the bar, humming as Thomas’ arm went around him automatically, pulling him close into his side. He looked up, curious to see what Thomas thought of his husband suddenly so at home with a child. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but whatever it was, it wasn’t what he saw. Thomas’s face had gone soft, from the crows feet around his eyes to the laughter lines around his mouth, which parted in the gentlest shape of awe Silver might have ever seen on the man, as if he’d realized something he’d never considered before. His shoulders were rounded, leaning forward against the bar, hand fidgeting against the polished bartop as if desperate to reach out for his husband. Silver could feel the arm he hand around his shoulder tensing with the need to act. They watched as Flint moved behind the bar, one hand resting where Wesley’s head was under the sling, rocking him gently as he fetched fresh beers for himself and for Hal. Silver was watching his face, watching the way his lips were moving, as if he were talking to the baby, but he was just too far away to hear what he was saying. “He’s singing,” came Thomas’ voice suddenly, almost lost to the noise of the bar. “What?” “He’s singing,” Thomas said again, nodding to his husband. “Padstow Farewell, he sings it to me sometimes when I have nightmares, I’d know the lyrics on his lips even in the grave.” Silver smiled softly. “He sang it to me when I was recovering from my leg. I didn’t know it could be a lullaby.” “Neither did I but…” “But now-” “Yeah.” Silver reached for Thomas’ other hand and kissed his knuckles, leaning into him further. Thomas held him impossibly tight, resting his cheek on his hair. There’d be more to talk about in the morning, tomorrow, the day after, next week, next month, next year. And there was a dizzying sense of joy in that, the same kind of joy that came from watching Flint carrying the future in his worn and weathered hands.

Hello there and congruatulations on reaching 300 followers, you deserve them and I am certain more customers will visit this lovely teashop! I can’t help but admire all the delicious items Marie’s Teashop has to offer on this special picnic menu! However the bakery goods look especially tasty, more precisely the cherry pie. Therefore... I would like to order a cherry pie with no. 6 and 10 for Luka Clemence please! Thank you for the opportunity to request those lovely little stories!

300 followers picnic

Hey there ! Thank you so much :) This is really sweet and Marie is very happy to serve her customers and prepare all the orders with love :)) Yes the cherry pie is very delicious ! Good choice !

To be honest I have never pegged Luka as the breeding kink kind of guy... But now that you mention it...

Here is your order !

6- Thigh riding

10- Breeding kink

Genre : NSFW and Fluff

Warnings : Thigh riding, breeding kink (obviously), semi public 

Golden giggles welled up in the air, going above trees and to the blue sky above, dormant with the cotton clouds. Your gaze followed as the children ran around in the plush grass and among flowers, chasing after poor Seth, hoping to braid his hair. 

You could only chuckle in amusement at the cry for help the grown man let out once a little boy tackled his leg and successfully made him crumble to his knees, defeated. 

“Looks like Seth lost the battle this time.” You joked fondly, Luka’s lips pulling in a soft smile, purple eyes bright as they observed the swarm of children quickly making work of his friend’s ponytail. 

“He did.” 

You looked up at your boyfriend, sitting on the grass beside you. “Should we go and help him ?” You asked quietly. Seth could do many things, but you doubted dealing with children was in his set of abilities. 

Luka’s eyes locked with yours, brimming with mischief. 

“No, he’ll be fine. The kids just want to play.” He said, a bright smile playing on his lips, hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers together, warmth spreading in his chest at the simple touch. “Plus... I’d like to have some time alone with you, if possible.” 

Your heart swelled as a blush dusted his cheeks like a butterfly kiss. 

True, the two of you had had little to no time alone lately. With diverse preparations for an upcoming event in Craddle and Luka’s training. And you missed him, missed his warmth, his touch and his comforting hold. 

Quietly, he stood up, helping you up before leading you away from the orphanage’s playground, in the forest, behind high trees, under thick foliage and to a place where only the sound of trickling water from a stream and the wind caressing leaves could be heard. 

You had no time to take in your surroundings before your back met with the strong and sturdy bark of a tree, your lover’s lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss. Sugar and chocolate danced on your tongue as his velvet tongue caressed yours, stealing your breath away. 

Dutiful hands wandered from over your sides, gently going down to your hips, igniting a fire deep in your core, insides melting under his touch and skin aching for more. 

A moan sipped from your lips to his as his knee settled between your thighs, pressing against your bucking hips, strong calf offering delicious friction to your burning core. 

“Please Luka I need you.” You panted between caresses of his lips, silk upon your own, hands fisting his jacket to hold yourself up on trembling legs. 

A loving smile graced his features, amethyst eyes catching the slivers of sunlight through the branches, warm and passionate as they gazed down at you. His heart swelled in his chest at your flushed cheeks and parted lips. You were so beautiful and he had missed you so much, skin unbearably cold when not in your vicinity. 

“I know, I’ll take care of you.” He assured, voice laced with a promise of pleasure. 

Quickly his fingers skimmed over the bare skin of your thigh, hiking up your skirts, touch leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake, shivers running up your spine. Once rid of the fabric, strong hands finally settle on your hips, slowly guiding you on his calf, muscles flexing under your clothed folds and sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. 

You grinded on his thigh, rubbing your bundle of nerves on the fabric of his pants, fingers curling on his jacket as he picked up the pace, easily sliding you along his leg. 

A cry of his name fell from your lips, head tilting back against the tree and eyes clenching close, the sight sending blood flooding down his hardening cock, painful in the restraints of his pants and precum staining the fabric. 

He moaned, the sound so melodious and pure, ricocheting against the stones of the stream a few feet away from you. 

“Luka, I-I want you inside of me.” You pleaded, brows scrunching up as a wave of pleasure flooded your senses when your clit met his thigh once again. “I want you to cum inside of me, please !” Your words shoot through his brain, hold on your hips tightening and purple eyes shadowing with new found lust.

“You want my children ?” He queried in your ear, warm breath tickling the skin of your nape and sending shivers down your neck.

“Yes-Yes please.” 

You didn’t have the time to register his fingers dancing on your clit as you collapsed over the edge, jolts of electricity coursing through your nerves, knot in your stomach bursting and warmth flooding your veins as fireworks worked in your vision. 

He continued to move you on his leg, your thighs trembling around him only spurring him on, lips attaching to your neck and raining kisses upon the sensitive skin. 

Soon you collapsed in his hold, leaning against his chest for support, chest heaving and pants spilling from your lips. A gentle hand brushed your hair away from your face, a gentle smile on his lips. 

“Once we get home I’ll fuck you full of my cum again and again to make sure you have my child.” He sweetly said, taken aback by his own confidence. 

Luka had never been the kind to talk like this, to act so reckless as to have his way with you outside. But you were just that irresistible and maybe the thought of your swelling belly and full cunt rose a new kind of passion inside of him. 

Taglist : @fluffyneko @heyy-its-j @itsforeveralyssaa @ikemen-banshou @helloitsmedina 

Send me a text if you’d like to be added or removed from the list :)

homebound

Paring: Thranduil/Reader

Tags: female reader, elf reader, plus size reader, set during The Hobbit, elf  culture & customs angst and hurt/comfort

Summary: Reader, in the company of the Dwarves of Erebor, finds herself in the company of her One; King Thranduil

Word Count: 1,647

Current Date: 2020-09-12

Though the dwarves spoke Elvish, with you alongside the Company aided their efforts in more than translation. Though you appeared young, your heritage hid the passage of time well. At over five thousand years old, you had seen much bloodshed, hatred, pain and strife as the years went by. Though your whole life was not full of pain, there was the reason you were not with your people for so long.

After fleeing the circles of your society, Gandalf the Grey took you in. The wandering wizard had no paying profession. Yet you spent your time alongside him, learning and growing. But mostly, it was attempting to avoid the pain of being separated from your One.

The sight of the dwarves and Mr Baggins riding ahead of your steed day after day never grew upon you; each morning, they would mount, and you would all ride toward the Lonely Mountain. Perhaps it was the novelty of watching them clamber onward like children. It could be your allyship to their noble cause. But mostly, deep inside your heart, you knew it to be the knowledge that you were returning home to the woods where you were born.

Through all the obstacles the troop faced, you all persevered. But as you all neared closer and closer to the Mirkwood woods, the memories of your exile so long ago resurfaced. Neither the Dwarves nor Mr Baggins asked for your story, for which you were glad. But there was something painful for you in returning home.

You were five thousand five hundred years old, and while most Elves lived longer, none in the circles of the elite you lived in looked like you. Ever since you were a child, your body was different. Doubts of your lineage permeated your family, called into question to your status and the validity of your title. It seemed that the society that you came from was against you but not the King's son. Thranduil.

The memories came to you in dreams and wreaked your sleep with their subconscious power. When the land was younger, and you both too, his hair was braided, and he would smile more. He sang, and ran, and made mischief as anyone would.

But with the passing of his father, the world seemed darker, scarier. Forced to crown him young, the council of elders passed the title upon Thranduil's shoulders. Early into his kingship, he kept his facade of happiness, just for you. The mischief became intimate. He no longer sang, but recited poetry and legislation to your awaiting ears. He wore a crown made from the woods and wore his hair loose for your fingers to weave within. And when no one looked, his lips would find yours, and all the cruel fate in the world would fade away for fleeting minutes.

A proverb states that when an elf falls in love, their heart remains with their One. While you had resigned to a life without returned feelings, it shocked you when one night your chambers were entered by palace guards. The Elders had found out; you, the imperfect, could never be the sovereign by marriage. The guards, on order from the Elders, abducted you under the disguise of starlight and displaced you from your home.

At this point, you would wake, panting, and muffle your cries beneath your fist. The fire would be dying in the early hours of the morning, and the last on watch would be blinking sleep from their eyes. As your party neared toward the woods, with Gandalf fleetingly by your side, you felt the grief returning to your conscious self.

The moment you saw the spider, your blood froze. Though you had grown in these parts, never had you slain one of these native foes. Sword at the ready, you slashed at the behemoth before you. One felled, two, but the third beast reared, venom spurting from its fangs into a wound. Crying out, you raised your sword, prepared for death. But the blow never landed; Elvish steel rang against your sword, and quickly, the remainder of the Spiders fell.

The relief of your life remaining your own never settled, however. The presence of other elves meant only one thing. Carried out in shackles, you silently shared the sombre feeling as your companions. It was not long before you found yourself behind Elven bars, imprisoned from your compatriots. Throughout your years, you had spent innumerable hours thinking of a reunion with your One. But never had you, in all of your musings, think it would be like this.

It was not long before more guards came, and silently, they unlocked your cell and escorted you from your friends. Already down the hallway, you could hear their cries, pleas against your removal. If only you had spoken in confidence about your history with these woodland elves to your dwarven friends. But that was the past.

Soon enough, you felt the familiar hallways entwine the passage, as comforting as a womb. Brought into the throne room, you felt the memories resurface once more. Before they could fill your mind, however, the throne came into view; and atop it, sat a familiar face. Time had not ravished him. Thranduil looked the same the last time you had seen him; long white hair, his gaze distant, the elegant attire. Though your hands were shackled still and held behind your back by your escorts, you felt them well with a will to reach for him.

"As soon as I heard of your return to the forest, I cannot lie, I was intrigued," he broke the silence that lingered in the vastness between you. From on high upon his throne, he shook his head, "after all these years, here you are. Home."

"I have no home! For that, your people made sure of," you spat.

At that, the guards tightened their grip upon your shackles, and uncomfortable, you fought back. Instantaneously, they released their grip, looking to your King, you saw why. Descending from his throne, you watched as Thranduil waved a hand your way, with no words spoken. The guards, though not unlocking the manacles that bound you, released their hold upon you. As he made his way closer, you observed another signal, to which left you and you King alone.

You felt your heartbeat beneath your skin, beating faster by the second. Despite all the years thinking of this moment, never had you anticipated it like this; returned in shackles, like a stray animal to your home.

"My people?" he asked.

You tilted your chin his way, your anger getting the better of you. But as quickly as it washed over you, it receded. Breathless, you looked to him, hurt.

"Oh, Thranduil, my love..." you whispered. "You never knew, did you?" You feel a wash of shame now, and though still bound, you turned from his gaze. "The elders. I heard them speaking; I had destroyed your chances of love."

"But you were my love," he growled. "And you left me to wander Middle Earth as you pleased."

You still cannot look at him. He radiates such power, such poise, and you cannot help but feel like you are inferior, despite the feelings you have harboured for so long. Your breath catches, and silently, you feel tears fall against your cheeks.

"It was against my will to leave Mirkwood. To leave you," you whispered. "It broke my soul to leave your presence. The elders forbade my return."

"And yet, here you are." He states.

It is now you look to him. Your face is shining with tears. Yet you refuse to look away now. "Against my better judgement. I was travelling with a troupe, only to be abducted by your soldiers." You fight against the restraints, their clanking noises filling the empty air between Thranduil's lips and your own. "Release us, and we will no longer be a burden to your court."

"You are in no place to make demands."

"And you are in none to scold me for things I did not do." you retort hotly. "I spent so long doubting myself, taking myself apart for others. Hating my body and wishing myself to be better for others. I didn't leave. They expelled me." you looked at Thranduil. "Before you scold me, punish your council."

A beat passes. The sound of elves vocalising in the distant halls catches your ears, but Thranduil does not speak. Silently, he takes something from his sleeve and reaches for your hands. No words are said as the chains fall.

"So I am not your prisoner?" you ask him.

"You do not understand what I have gone through in your absence," he sighs, his fingers tracing around the marks on your wrists. "I was married, then widowed. I became a father, as well."

"Congratulations, my King," you half-bow, as tradition expects of you. "And I apologise for your loss."

His lips turn up at the corners, ever so slightly. "I might have gone through so much pain, as you have too," he says, his fingers now interwoven with yours. "...but it has led us here. Together once more."

"Fate is strange," you hum. "...but I cannot stay, Thranduil. I have pledged myself to the cause of the Thorin Oakenshield, the heir of the Lonely Mountain."

He flinches. "To remove the wretched Smaug from its clutches, I assume?"

You nod and bring his hands close to your chest. His skin is cold and smooth. "Yes. Until Thorin is crowned King Under the Mountain, I am bound to the cause."

"Well," he says softly, lips brushing against your brow. "I suppose that I too am bound to the cause, for the best interest for my people."

"Until then...I must bid you adieu, my King." you release your clasp on his hands, and step backward, from his reach. "I have a dragon to slay."  

Sorry if it’s already been done, but what retail worker stereotypes do you think the Gaang would be. I feel Aang would be the one that has to keep the employees from killing each other lol. Thank you.

okay i’ve never worked retail and i may be underinformed on retail worker stereotypes so i just kind of ran with the retail jobs premise in general in the same vein as this LoK post! this isn’t quite modern AU but it is its own modern-day AU if that makes any sense at all.

aang: works at the juice store at the food court. no one who goes to the mall ever wants to just buy some juice, so he winds up spending a lot of time sitting on the counter, legs crossed pretzel-style, mooning over the hippieish girl who works at the craft store. she has long braids and walks around the store in overalls and socks and aang has just decided that she’s the girl of his dreams. the craft store is on the second floor but he can just barely see it if he sits on the counter and cranes his neck up and to the side. one day, he works up the nerve to go there on his break and buy some beads. before he heads up there, he decides to make her a juice that he thinks she’ll like. he spends almost an hour thinking of the perfect ingredients that match her vibe and choosing the exact right color straw––and then he gets there and the hippieish girl he’s had his heart set on for weeks is drinking a red bull. his heart is wounded that day.

sokka: sokka is the youngest geek squad employee at the best buy. it’s a great job. he gets to wear blue (which is his color) and he is surrounded by other nerds, most of whom are in college and don’t mind entertaining him in between customers by talking about their engineering classes and the projects they’re working on. a few of the girls he works with are so charmed by him that they invite him to tag along to guest lectures at the college campus from time to time. at work, sokka is very careful and attentive while he fixes computers, but it is undeniable that the customers test his patience. a day does come when a customer reiterates repeatedly that sokka is not to go poking around his browser history, and the only way sokka manages to wrest the laptop from this customer’s hands is by falsely assuring him that he is asexual

katara: katara got fired from pacsun because she attended a protest to block a new victoria’s secret from opening up in the mall and then invited the other protesters to come to pacsun after closing time for post-protest drinks and celebration. she opened the store and found her manager quietly drinking wine in the back. after that, it was just inevitable that she be fired.

toph: toph’s father does not allow toph to work. toph also happens to be an extremely, um, demanding customer, so when she comes to the mall, her friends insist she steer clear of their stores until their shifts are over and they can walk around together as customers. so she spends her time harassing mall cops instead and trying to get in the way when she hears their segways approaching. it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it 😇

zuko: zuko’s first job is after he is kicked out of his father’s house and moves in with his uncle and begins working in uncle iroh’s store. the jasmine dragon is located in a freestanding building across the parking lot from the mall. zuko thinks it is the most relaxing place in the entire world. with super-soft chairs and quiet instrumental music playing all the time, it’s just inevitable that eventually customers ask iroh if he’d ever consider scheduling an open mic night. much to zuko’s alarm, at the first installment of what becomes a weekly event, iroh invites zuko to open the proceedings by reading his own poetry. but it actually goes really well. in fact, that’s how he meets yue, who came with the intention of reading her own poems, and mai, who came to perform a five-minute standup set. the three of them become fast friends, and it’s common for zuko to pour the two of them tea while they sit in the jasmine dragon and workshop their writing together after school.

suki: suki never quite figured out how to endure a retail job. she got a job at one of the clothing stores and worked there for barely two weeks before she was fired for turning a cute tank into a cuter crop top. then she tried the craft store, where she worked alongside aang’s little crush for a bit, but she blew up at her manager after he threatened to institute drug testing. she decided to just stop trying after that, and instead she got a job teaching martial arts to kids at the local martial arts studio. it pays much better and she loves nothing more than teaching girls how to do some damage

mai: mai is forbidden from working, and besides, workshopping her standup in the jasmine dragon takes up pretty much all of her time.

azula: azula is also forbidden from working, but a part of her really wishes she could conquer the filthy and disorganized kmart near her school because she has a lot of ideas on how to improve the layout and make the queueing more efficient. unfortunately, ozai believes that it is an embarrassment to have children who work where others might see them, so she has to keep her corporate overlord fantasies to herself.

ty lee: ty lee manages two competing fast food franchise locations at the age of 17, and literally no one knows.

The Sleeping Prince of Wallachia Ch. 2 (Full)

Here's the entirety of chapter two in all of its glory, I hope you guys enjoy the small lore that I created regarding Greta!

Summary: Wallachia is in great peril at the behest of Death himself; all those who have attempted to battle the creature have swiftly been executed and made an example of. The key to defeating the beast lies in Dracula's castle, located twenty odd miles out from a small village by the name of Danesti. In this village, the headwoman Greta must act quickly to save her people from the onslaught of attacks by night creatures and other ungodly minions who have sworn their loyalty to Death. Will she alone be able to stop Death or will she require additional aid to save her people and those in Wallachia?

Roasted walnuts indecorously bestrewed the forest floor, being tossed from a perch high above that stretched into the sky. Humming a cheerful tune that foretold the story of Queen Dido, a thirteen-year-old Greta smacked her lips obnoxiously as Marius attempted to scamper away from the branch they sat upon. The young girl hurled an emptied shell of a walnut into the air, given to her by the portly baker Grigore, a Wallachian native that had recently settled in Danesti to toil his goods.

“That isn’t how the founding story of Carthage goes, Queen Dido was bewitched by Cupid’s arrow,” a twelve-year-old Marius moaned wearily at his older friend who crossed her lanky arms unimpressed by the explanation. The Roman boy dug into the pouch that sat between him and his companion, uttering a cry when he felt a pinch twist the doughy skin of his love handles. Offering his finest glare, the adolescent lobbed a walnut at the lass who only ducked backwards in response to the sneak attack with a snigger.

“That cannot be, Prince Aeneas deceptively seduced our founding mother with sweet words only to leave her high and dry in the pursuit of his journey, ultimately courting Princess Lavinia of Italy,” Greta bit out with a scowl as she described the cowardly philanderer that covertly escaped into the night when leaving Carthage at the command of Jupiter. Prince Aeneas went on to become the founding father of Rome, previously recognized as the city of Lavinium when the metropolis was founded by his followers to honor their queen.

Marius merely shrugged at the latter details relayed by Greta, knowing how the rest of the myth went. Queen Dido, in a fitful rage, committed suicide out of spite at the abandonment of Aeneas and sparked the Punic Wars that led to the annexation of Carthage. Presently, both civilizations were relics of the past and the descendants of Aeneas and Dido had long forgotten about the dissension that divided the two to begin with.

“Who cares about any of that, it’s all ancient history anyway; more importantly we should talk about Faiza,” Marius clucked out with a cheeky grin as Greta’s face promptly flushed at the mention of the girl who currently held her affections.

Nimble fingers tapped bashfully against the coarse bark of the tree as she thought of the remarkable Moroccan beauty, two years her senior with an unmatched intellect that could not be found elsewhere in the village. Clearing her throat with a thunderous cough that echoed amongst the thicket of trees, thick chestnut brows quirked up to implore Marius to continue his line of questioning.

Sighing heavily in exasperation, the young man reached across to tug at his closest playmate’s cheek, earning an appalled yelp in reply.

“You vexing little runt, what was that for,” Greta demanded with a scoff, lightly slapping the terracotta toned hand away as Marius held his rib from chuckling harshly at Greta’s indignation. Thoroughly riled by the taunts, the daughter of the headman gracefully descended from the tree, stirring up the emerald leaves that laid in the low grass below. Lips curved upward at the sound of an astonished choke, knowing that Marius would take much longer to get down than Greta.

Leaves crunched in protest, alarming the teenager, who speedily pulled out her short sword to defend both herself and Marius from a potential assailant. Pale green eyes squinted in concentration, rising from the thick branch he sat upon. Marius tactically retrieved his elm bow and arrow to target the source of the commotion hidden by the overgrown shrubbery. Palms were presented in a mock defense manner and soon both sword and bow were lowered without further inquiry; the newcomer was a fellow inhabitant of Danesti who went by the name of Felix. The scrawny queer man looked affright when he saw their weapons drawn, shaking like a white flag in the wind signaling a surrender from a defeated camp of soldiers.

“Greta and Marius, I’ve come to retrieve you both on behalf of Tobias, he says that your mother is nearing the end of labor,” Felix squawked out nervously forcing his hands to his sides while tipping the crooked point of his jaw in the air, an attempt to reinforce his position as an elder among the children who innocently snickered at the poor fellow.

Tobias was the current headman of Danesti, father of Greta and husband of Iman, patiently awaiting the arrival of his second child with the rest of the men in the village. As per custom, Iman was currently being attended by several midwives and parish priests recruited from the capital of Târgoviște; a far journey that took the travelers weeks to make it to the settlement in time for the birth.

The leader of the village had forfeited several family heirlooms to afford the care needed for Iman and adequately compensated those assisting in the birth. Childbirth was an unforgiving ordeal; one could never be too safe to preserve the life of both mother and child even with the aid of experts.

Honeyed eyes crinkled in joy; the youth absolutely thrilled that she would finally meet her younger sibling. The young girl had been praying that it would be a boy so that her father could be at peace and have a successor that would eventually inherit the role of headman. If that occurred, her father would stop stifling her fun with Marius and the other village children, forcing her to sit through tedious meetings with the village council about the daily state of affairs in their community.

Regardless of the gender of the newborn, Greta promised her mother that she would look out for her younger sibling and her mother beamed from ear to ear while affectionately carding her rich brown hands through her daughter’s silken hair. Often wrapped in colorful linens covering her form and adorned with intricately knotted scarves, her mother dressed in the traditional garb that was expected of women hailing from Somalia, a resource rich country found in East Africa. Though it was rare to see out in the open, Greta adored seeing her mother braid her kinky curly hair into the fine thin rows of braids decorated by glassy beads and golden hair cuffs imported from North African traders passing through the area to sell their finery.

The relationship between Tobias and Iman was an anomaly to all onlookers based on the traits of the two; Tobias was a brash man who had no filter and the shortest temper that could set off at a moment’s notice while Iman was quiet spoken yet assertive in her demands, effortlessly carrying herself like a member of royalty. Additionally, Tobias carried the wide frame of a brutish bull, but he was slightly below average in stature while Iman towered over her husband with long slim legs and a slender frame hidden by her garments.

“We need to hurry, I don’t want to miss the birth of my baby brother,” Greta complained impatiently while Marius climbed his way down the birch tree with cautious steps, ensuring that his footing was secured along the way.

“You keep saying that you will have a brother, but how can you be so confident,” the boy queried warily with a suspicious glance, unconvinced that intuition alone could predict such a momentous event. Landing upon the ground, the youngster hollered upon Greta roughly grabbing and shaking him by the shoulders in frustration. Hoping that Felix would lend a helping hand against the rambunctious girl, Marius silently implored the middle-aged man to intervene and separate the two.

“You sound so skeptical my dear Marius, you should know that I’m quite clever when it comes to these matters,” Greta pledged eagerly, forcibly disconnected from the lad by an already fatigued Felix. The old man wished to return to the village before the three lost daylight and encountered the mischievous spirits of the forest.

“Enough out of you two, come along now,” the farmer churned out with difficulty, feeling hoarse at the thought of the journey back to the township.

Nose scrunched with a harrumph, Greta filed behind Felix with a small pout and Marius walked beside her feeling a small pang of jealousy. His friend had spent a great deal of time boasting about the new arrival of her sibling that he could not help the thorns of envy that pierced the entirety of his being. Thick as thieves, just about everyone in the colony had known how close the two were, rarely seen without one another. With the arrival of a newborn, Greta’s responsibilities and chores would increase tremendously as her mother recovered over the span of the next two months.

What if we grow apart Marius mused gloomily, instantly prickled with guilt at the selfishness of his thoughts but was shaken out of his stupor when he felt a hand roughly the same size as his own. Jade orbs welled up with teardrops as a thumb brush against his palm and he gripped the hand back in silence.

“What are you thinking about,” Greta murmured with great care; a tone rarely used in their conversations due to the spitfire personality that defined the young maiden.

Brushing away the tears in his eyes with his available hand, Marius contemplated how much he would be able to disclose without feeling entirely embarrassed by the pettiness of his emotions. Initially shrugging his shoulders in deference, his ample cheeks burned in shame as he slowly treaded along the path hand in hand with Greta.

“Promise not to laugh,” the boy pleaded with a defeated look, not being able to make eye contact with Greta who openly stared at him with such unease. Taking a deep breath in, the young girl released her hand from Marius and grabbed her friend’s knobby shoulders with an intense hawk-like gaze.

“I swear upon our friendship that I will not laugh, nor will I reveal the contents of this discussion to any soul,” she assured with a heavy sense of conviction, unconditional love filling her freesia eyes. Lips parted in mirth from the sheer honesty of his friend, a chuckle threatening to bubble up from his throat at his own foolishness.

“Can you promise that we’ll always remain friends,” Marius entreated faintly, inspecting the approaching dusk of the sky that precariously peeked through the treetops.

Although dumbfounded at the soft plea, Greta did not dither in responding to the vulnerable request, “Even if we were friends for an eternity, it still wouldn’t be enough time together.”

A wave of warmth washed over Marius at the declaration, assuaged by Greta’s consideration of his intrusive thoughts. Playfully knocking his shoulder into her own, the childhood friends smiled at one another, before redirecting their attention to the approaching sight of their settlement.

The trio slowly came to a stop at the barricade that was currently bolted shut from potential new arrivals in the village; Felix hesitantly craned his willowy neck upwards to see who stood guard at the top of its walls. Sure enough, a stout man roughly in his late thirties beamed at the sight of the three, quickly retrieving the bast rope to lower the door of the enormous, antiquated gatehouse. Squeaking in protest, the barricade slowly opened to the three, dust settling in the air upon impact. Without further notice, Marius and Greta speedily dashed across the oak wood of the gate while Felix’s knees trembled from exertion as he slowly limped into the community.

“Didn’t think the three of you would make it in time,” Luigi snorted cheekily, teetering towards the post to relatch the gate on the headman’s orders. Shortly after, the hefty man climbed down the shifty ladder that squeaked every step of the way before reaching the ground to properly greet the triad.

“If these two hadn’t been gallivanting about in the forest, we could have been back much sooner,” Felix complained rubbing his sore shoulders. Holding his rounded stomach while unleashing a booming guffaw, Luigi playfully shook his balding head at the mention of Marius and Greta’s predictable antics. The adolescents wordlessly exchanged a sour look before politely excusing themselves from the drawn-out discussion between the two chatty adults.

Heading towards her family’s residence, Greta and Marius spotted almost every villager crowded outside of the gate of her ancestral home. The gate was carved with several strokes belonging to the Punic alphabet and astrological formations that foretold the perilous journey of her forefathers.

Standing at the forefront of the assemblage, Tobias paced back and forth worriedly awaiting the nursing aides who instructed him to stay outside until the birthing ritual was completed. The sound of a woman wailing reverberated within the family home and Tobias wished for nothing more than to be by his wife’s side. A sizeable number of villagers swaddled their leader in support, all holding celebratory gifts to offer protection against any harm that may come to Iman or the arriving infant.

Lengthy, partially braided chestnut tresses fell past sun kissed broad shoulders; the headman possessed a striking profile that was disrupted by the prestigious wide hook of a nose displaying his Carthaginian roots. The warrior’s features were that of a handsome hero residing in an epic poem, his Herculean body cladded in his finest olive tunic befitting the occasion. Despite Greta clearly resembling her mother far more, both father and daughter shared the same honeyed gaze that resembled the jewel tones of amber.

The entire village of Danesti recognized the headman and his wife as the most handsome couple in the village, both easy on the eyes and charming in their own way. However, the couple had eyes for no one else; the village leader was completely smitten and dedicated his every waking moment to Iman while Iman could not see another man loving her the way Tobias did. Tobias claimed that he fell for Iman from the moment that he had laid his eyes on her, formally the daughter of a Somali livestock peddler who regularly passed through Danesti on route to the numerous towns in Wallachia.

Whenever Greta asked about the tryst, the older villagers professed that no one had silenced Tobias in quite the same manner that Iman did upon their initial meeting, the headman completely bewitched by her stunning beauty and graceful manner. Falling to his knees shamelessly, the newly appointed leader of Danesti begged for Iman to allow him to worship her for the rest of his days and Iman accepted the shocking proposal with a shy smile. Despite the two reciprocating feelings for one another, her father Assad was completely against the courtship as he had plans to marry Iman off to a thriving merchant who lusted after his eldest daughter.

In the end, Tobias challenged Assad in a physical brawl for the hand of Iman and the rest was history. The two wasted no time in conceiving a child within the first year of their engagement, naming Greta after the precious gem that adorned the ring Tobias gave to his wife, formerly worn by his late mother who died in the aftermath of his own birth.

Bushy brows seemed to cement into a permanent pinch, clearly distressed until he heard a familiar voice.

“Father, how is mother doing,” Greta questioned tensely, pushing through the crowd while Marius was herded in by his folks despite the boy’s protests.

Exhaling with a frightful glower, Tobias channeled his anxiety into outrage at the late arrival of his daughter, “Have you had your fill of prancing off with Marius?” Ears ablaze in mortification at the scrutiny of the villagers who went silent at the confrontation, the young girl stopped a few feet shy of her father.

“I needed to go somewhere quiet to complete my gift for mother,” Greta confessed weakly, digging into the goatskin satchel slung across the finely threaded olive tunic that mirrored the one that her father donned. Carefully, her uncertain fingers produced a small carved sculpture of a woman holding an infant while shameful tears muddled her vision. The craftsmanship of the small carving was remarkable, the creation a labor of love worked on by Greta and Marius over the period of a fortnight.

Rumpled brows sheepishly slackened at the admission, knowing that if Iman had been present, she would be livid with her husband’s arbitrary treatment of their daughter. Hesitantly, the headman closed the distance between himself and Greta who stubbornly withheld her tears as he approached.

Lifting the corner of his mouth minutely, the gruff man reached out and gingerly carded his chunky fingers through the beautiful chestnut hair of his daughter, not one for sentimentality or overt displays of affection in front of others. Peeking from beneath the reach of her father’s labor-thickened hands, Greta gathered the courage to blow a raspberry in retaliation. The sound of laughter erupted amongst the crowd of villagers, thankful that the situation had not escalated any further. The tense line of Tobias’ mouth relaxed for the first time all day; a small smile coaxed from the outrageousness of his adorable daughter.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the door of the cruck home belonging to Tobias and Iman flung open. In the doorway of the home stood the principal midwife, looking to Tobias with a weighted gaze that forebode tragedy. All went quiet in shock, the exultant air of the villagers immediately vanishing in fear of what would come next.

Face crumbling in misery at what lied ahead, Tobias sucked in his plump lower lip, approaching the doorway of his home with solemn steps. Before fully making it over the threshold, the headman threw a backwards glance at his daughter whose eyes carried a sorrow that was beyond her years.

“Restrain your grief,” Tobias uttered cautiously, directing a grim expression to Greta before entering his home. Marching past the chaste kitchen of his abode, the man followed closely behind the midwife who remained quiet as a mouse before arriving at the door of the room that had been prepared for the birth. Closing his freesia eyes with a silent prayer, he opened the door and his husky body crumbled to the ground.

His beautiful wife had never been so pale, the rich brownness of her skin ashen from the exertion of labor and her mouth ajar as she wheezed harshly. Her lithe form sagged uncomfortably on the birthing stool that she sat upon. The maternity gown cloaking her frail form was drenched in excess blood from the pelvis down, the essence of life puttering silently onto the floorboards of the room. The secondary midwives turned their remorseful glances upon the speechless headman who saw the swaddled form of his stillborn son, laying in the woven basket of his crib perpetually silent, never to awaken from his eternal slumber.

“Where is our boy Tobias, they refuse to let me hold him,” Iman churned out deliriously, blearily making out her husband who still sat in the doorway. With great difficulty, the thirty-five-year-old rose to his feet, ambling towards his wife who reached out her hand in search of her beloved. Arriving at her side, he pressed his lips to the clammy forehead of his wife who shook like a leaf in his embrace. Shushing his wife with a gentleness that only she inspired, Tobias softly asked Iman to rest despite her repeated question. Eventually, she dozed off from the sheer pain of her loss and the weakness of her body while Tobias held her fragile hand to his cheek.

“There is something I must tell you,” the central midwife addressed miserably, knowing that what she was about to disclose would break the man before her beyond repair. Heartbroken from the loss of his ill-fated son, Tobias shook his head refusing to part from his spouse.

“No more, not now,” the warrior beseeched quietly, incessant tears drenching his face, looking down at his doomed wife; the village leader had spent enough time entrenched in death to know the telltale signs. Even in her sleep, Iman breathed with difficulty and her body was soaked with cold sweat from the feverish trot of impending death.

Nodding with a heavy heart, the midwife stepped out of the room with her aides, giving the couple their much-needed privacy with the promise of addressing the village in place of the grief-stricken man.

Setting foot into the dusk of the evening, the middle-aged woman was immediately met by the mob of villagers who had not breathed a word since the departure of their leader. Hands were gravely clasped in prayer with heads bowed, hoping that at least one of the poor souls had survived the traumatic birth. The daughter of the village leader looked at the midwife with lifeless eyes, slowly stepping forward with clenched fists, nails digging violently into the skin of her palms.

“Where are my parents,” the minor queried weakly; she looked nothing like the spirited girl that danced gleefully at the arrival of the midwife with her aides. Lip trembling, the adolescent brushed past the midwife with an anguished cry, marching into her household completely distraught. Marius observed his friend from afar, feeling the pit of his stomach drop into the deepest depths, wishing that he could provide an iota of comfort. Nothing he said would erase the sorrow that would forever mark this day; he could only hope that Greta would find the courage to smile again one day as tears ran down his face.

Spiraling into complete panic, Greta made her way through the simple structure of her home, wiping her tears with the sleeve of the cotton blouse her mother had just laundered a few days ago. Arriving at the door where her parents were surely behind, her face flittered between dread and hysteria. Intaking a deep breath, she pushed the door open silently and an ear-shattering scream reached the villagers who all mournfully turned to embrace their own families. The village men removed their hats out of respect while the women held their children close to their breast, some too young to understand what was going on.

Tobias abruptly removed himself from his wife who was still barely holding on at the sound of his daughter’s screech, silently standing up with his back facing Greta. Nose flaring irritably, ire scathed his irises when he looked at his daughter who was amid a panic attack. Chest heaving up and down in apprehension, the child convulsed as an ugly cry cut through the silence of the room, not knowing whether to stare at her condemned mother or brother.

Tears still lingering in his eyes, Tobias savagely stomped across the room, standing before his firstborn without penitence.

“Straighten up now daughter of mine, you need to grow up,” he shouted venomously, grabbing the girl roughly by her slightly too large tunic to ground himself. Blunt teeth bared wickedly for all to see, the chieftain burrowed his daughter against his strong chest with silent tears, words at odds with his current actions.

Nothing reached Greta who continued to wail, the strength in her knees disappearing entirely as she slid to the floor, her father silently sinking with her. Thick snot and tears ran amuck, her breathing clearly affected by her frenzied state while a hand gently rubbed her back. The edges of her vision blackened as she fainted; Greta vaguely recalled her father raving like a mad man in his native tongue, sobbing harshly as he brought his beloved child firmly into the embrace of his burly arms. It would be the first and last time the future head woman would see the resilient man brought to tears, the love of his life stealing them away permanently with her unexpected departure.

_____________________________________________________________________________

I have lost my other brother Greta thought ardently, turning the statement over and over in her head a million times, wondering when the immediate grief of Marius passing would slither away. Presently, her muddied sleeves were rolled up to her elbows as she gathered the remains of the corpses strewn about her village. Dismembered bodies were carefully laid on thick tarps customarily used to protect the produce cultivated by the farmers of Danesti. One thing was certain after last night’s invasion; the village of Danesti had fallen and it had occurred under Greta’s charge.

Invisible unrelenting fingers pointed at her in a silent accusation, calling for her execution and demanding that the head woman be replaced by a more capable hand. Loading up a wooden cart with rows of bundled corpses, amber eyes sorrowfully looked onto the Earth that bled her people dry in this latest attack. Less than forty percent of the inhabitants of Danesti and those belonging to other nearby villages survived, many children becoming orphans while the women were widowed in the aftermath of their closest victory against the night hordes.

Humiliated by the string of her latest failures, the village leader could not bring herself to thoroughly engage with anyone. If a villager approached her for further instructions regarding their task, she cowardly evaded eye contact, automatically generating an appropriate response. Despite the fatigue eating away at her strength, Greta refused to stop busying herself with the innumerous number of tasks before her. Very few members of the village council had survived, leaving her with an excessive workload to keep her out of her thoughts for a decent stretch of time.

If the previous headman could see her now, he would probably double over in shame from beyond the grave, wondering why his daughter failed the colony given all that he had taught her. In his last days, Tobias constantly reassured Greta of her position as next in line for the leadership of the village, silencing anyone who stood in opposition of her inheriting the role.

“Only you have the abilities to lead Danesti beyond its current splendor,” Tobias affirmed maniacally before he passed from a broken heart, his health steadily declining over the years, leaving a depressed and scared eighteen-year-old Greta to pick up the pieces of his ambitions.

Watching her once indestructible father devolve into a mass of sinewy muscles on his deathbed emotionally ravaged Greta. However, she could not afford to mourn for months like she did with her mother and baby brother, for the sake of the villagers now depending on her counsel. Burying her emotions deep in her breast, Greta only divested her authentic emotional state to Marius in moments of deep insecurity. The young woman feigned abundant confidence in the presence of her people, strategically dispatching a witty remark here and there at anyone who dared to challenge her position of power.

With the hammer of Tobias, Greta led a new age of prosperity in Danesti over the next four years; encouraging the expansion of the village as well as carefully managing the resources to supply the newcomers settling in the community. Branches of commerce grew as well, the wardress carefully researching the highly sought goods of Wallachians nearby to encourage her people to communicate with others from their native countries for trading purposes, utilizing the diversity of her community.

Slowly beginning to recover from her past traumas, a cruel God deemed that it was time to awaken Greta from her dreams of a brighter future, Wallachians region wide receiving a wave of brutal attacks by the night hordes. Death was an inevitable foe that she knew she would never be able to completely curb, stealing her villagers every now and then due to tragic accidents or old age. What she was facing now was entirely different; mass graves were being dug due to the surplus of carcasses that cluttered the lands, because there were not enough hands available to dig individual graves.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she looked to her bounded shoulder to find a tanned hand planted there, meeting the eyes of the Speaker who saved her life the previous night. Once again, finding heavy worriment in those cerulean-blue orbs, the young heroine found herself almost cursing the woman for rescuing her and Marius in that instance. At least if she died then, it would have been at the side of her dearest friend whom she considered to be the last member of her long-gone family.

“We need to talk,” the ginger-haired woman whispered gently, seeing the vacancy and pain that traversed the head woman. Stopping her task at the bidding of an invisible force from the ether, Greta allowed herself to be led away from her people who stared at their leader sympathetically.

What the fuck am I doing the hammer-wielding warrior questioned, chewing her lower lip aggressively while darting her eyes to the back of the Speaker’s fiery strands that bounced at the beating of the morning wind. Finally, the two ceased further movement upon arriving at a patch of undisturbed land that had not been scorched. The unknown woman turned to Greta with the irritated twitch of her nose, the stench of smoke still filling the air long after the Speakers had put out the flames.

“My name is Sypha Belnades, I’m the granddaughter of the Elder Speaker that leads this particular caravan,” Sypha extended politely, introducing herself with a small bow out of respect for the chief ruler of the village. The young mage happened upon Greta shortly after the night hordes fled from the assault on Danesti, feeling an unconscious link form between the two at the vulnerability that the young leader displayed for her people. Tears of empathy sprouted at the sight of Greta sprawled over the newly deceased Marius, knowing the importance of bonds and how easily a community could translate into the bonds of family.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Greta bowed as well with a forced smile, “I’m Greta of Danesti, daughter of the deceased Tobias and Iman,” responded punctually before allowing the sorcerer to continue her train of thought.

Clearing her throat in discomfort, Sypha attempted to regain her footing in the exchange, finding it difficult to formulate her thoughts amid the tragedy that she had witnessed firsthand.

“Our chapter of Speakers have spent the last couple of weeks traveling throughout the region of Wallachia, striving to put an end to the massacres that have swallowed up these lands,” Sypha started with an explanation, recounting the horrors that she had seen in her travels with a dire countenance, clearly bothered by the amount of death she had seen in the last two months. Unspeakable calamities had been dealt out without reasoning, leaving the group of Speakers at a loss in how they should advance and lend aid.

Unsubstantiated rumors circulated around the fabled entity known as Death personally commanding the army of night creatures; however, accounts from the commonfolk reported several different descriptors identifying the mystic general behind the current campaign of genocide. Some said that the commander of the army was a cloaked young woman with dark skin possessing unsettling hues that glowed, while others detailed an older male vampire who lacked the expected regalia of his kind.

“Currently we are at a disadvantage, my caravan alone cannot provide the support desperately needed across Wallachia,” Sypha confessed uneasily, rubbing her chilly fingers together to ward off the unforgiving chill that the morning air brought.

Pinched by the unyielding sense of compassion instilled by her late mother, Greta straightened her undignified form with a newfound purpose. No matter how lost she may have felt, the headwoman could not idly stand by while innocent people were slaughtered without just cause. Brown slim fingers extended out and clasped Sypha’s shoulder with certainty at what would come next, her amber eyes lighting up reinvigorated at the unspoken pledge of defending her remaining charges.

“What can I do to help,” the young warrior inquired with haste, not realizing that this exact moment would turn the tides in saving Wallachia and spark the ensuing chronicles that celebrated the legendary heroine and her fellow comrades made along the way.

Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

**

Everyone knew the story of the man in the forest mansion. He’d once been the son of a prominent and just lord. The people of the land praised the lord’s name as he was always fair and practiced justice amongst all his subjects. It was a month of mourning when he passed away from sickness, but there were high hopes for his son to carry on his legacy. And at first, all was well.

But something happened that changed his heart.

A woman appeared; beautiful, alluring, and sweet. She captured his heart and they say he adored her, showering her in gifts of gold, jewels, and fine cloth. No one knows what happened for sure, only that the lord’s son went mad. There was a fire and the woman died. Most say that he started it with the intent of killing her.  

Soon after, the son turned out all the servants and secluded himself from the rest of the world. Whispers popped up that the woman he killed was a fairy or a nymph and for killing her he was cursed. Some say that he was now a beast, sporting fangs and claws where his human teeth and fingers once were. Others say he was now a creature of the night and stalked the forest when the moon is high for wandering prey.

No had seen the son or the castle where he supposedly lived in years. The excuse that the grandmothers gave was that the forest had grown too thick from the trees and vines for the castle to be found. Since the son had turned out all the servants and land workers after the fire and there was no one to keep the paths clear.

You didn’t believe a word of it. A man with fangs and claws hiding up in a castle to terrorize anyone who came too close was utter nonsense; a fairytale to scare the children and keep them within the town walls. Even if there were such a man, you hardly considered the possibility that he was cursed.

“It's only because you moved here a few months ago,” Mrs. Mooney crooned. As the wife of the town butcher, she was privy to all the gossip that passed by the family shop. She often stood outside, keeping the stall for the smaller scraps or animals they hadn’t managed to sell to the more prestigious customers. “But we older folk remember the little boy who used to run around here while his father conducted business. Spoiled little thing. Always had a pretty pony and the finest clothes. Stuck his nose up at playing with the other children just because they had dirt on their sleeves. Serves him right, what he got.”

“You don’t know what he deserved and what he didn’t,” another graying woman chimed in haughtily. Her dress, though still rough like a peasant’s, was much nicer than the other villagers. Silver curls spilled out from under a white bonnet. Her hands looked coarse from hard labor and her skin kissed for years under the sun. Crinkles stayed permanently in the corners of her eyes, letting you know that she did smile on occasion. You’d never seen her before when you came to the market, but Mrs. Mooney seemed to know her well.

“You would know better than anyone, Feifei,” Mrs. Mooney sneered.

Though now you were intrigued, Mrs. Mooney did not elaborate how the other woman would know anything about this make-believe man.

“That tongue will get you into trouble someday, Johanna.” Adjusting the basket hanging from the crook of her arm, the old woman spared no glance at the meat as she walked away.

Mrs. Mooney clicked her tongue. With a shake of her head, she turned back to you. “So, milady, do plan on any wares today?”

“No, my father already sent Claudette earlier this week,” you said. The smell of the meat was starting to get to you, but you tried your best to keep it off your face. “I simply came down to escape the confinements of home.”

A huff pushed past her lips. “Oh, yes. I’m sure that large stone house must be suffocating.”

Though lashing out would have been easy, you bit your tongue. This butcher’s wife didn’t know your history. She didn’t know that compared to your previous home in the city, this new place was a shack.

It was your mother’s inheritance that kept you, your siblings, and your father afloat. The home, bought long ago by your grandfather who was now passed, was a honeymoon paradise for your parents. After your mother died giving birth to you, the house was locked up to be a refuge only to spiders and rodents since your father couldn’t bear visiting the place alone. He’d poured himself into his work, curating business as he brought investors and merchants together. When a major client lost his ships at sea, one of his managers took off with most of the assets and funds, leaving debts and loans in their place. To pay off the leeches, most of your possessions had to be auctioned off and the home that had sheltered you since childhood was sold to a new family.

Life away from the bustling city wasn’t too awful. You didn’t have to worry about being run over by a carriage since most of the residents here couldn’t afford one. Everyone seemed to know everyone, which was both intriguing to you while also a little bothersome. At first your family, being new, was the center of all the gossip. Rumors of your father or brother gambling the fortune away or you and your sister having scandalized the family and caused you all to hide away ran rampant. Eventually, the mill settled down and you were left in peace. Some of the villagers still gave side eyed glances, but you’d learned to brush them off.

Thinking it was time to head back home, you said goodbye to the butcher’s wife and followed the brown dirt street beyond the wall that surrounded the town until the scenery turned to fields of wildflowers and small farms. You took a right at the fork, already seeing the two-story country home come into view. The tan brick was a bit faded from the sun and thick vines grew up the sides and around the windows. A small garden grew out in front. There was a fairytale essence to the home that made you love it more. In the back, Claudette would be hanging the laundry to dry in the subtle breeze. Father was most likely in his study, shuffling through papers and letters to find a way out of this place. Cosette was probably lying on the old couch in the front parlor, constantly fanning herself as she whined of the woes she was forced to live through. Your brother, Lu, would be sitting on a log, writing in his journal when he was supposed to be chopping wood.

Cosette was right where you had guessed she was. As soon as you walked through the door, she jumped up and hurried to you with her skirt crumbled in her hand.

“Where have you been?” she screeched, her dark hair pulled back into an intricately braided bun. You tried not to be annoyed. She must have had Claudette do her hair when both of them were supposed to be helping with the washing. “Father has news that he’s been dying to share with us, but he refused to divulge what it is until you were here.”

You rolled your eyes at your sister’s impatience. “Surely, you must have known I would have been home eventually.”

She “hmphed” at you before whirling dramatically and stomping off towards your father’s study. You followed her slowly, your stomach swishing with nerves.

Truth be told, you didn’t mind it out here. The country was a great deal quieter than the city, the air cleaner too. The greatest unexpected gift, however, was how often you saw your dear father. As a child, you had to savor every dinner, every private concert in your living room, and the short moments you were able to spend with him in between his travels or meetings. Claudette never carried as she was more invested in the connections she was making with the other well-to-do families and Lu was often tagging along with your father as the eldest and heir apparent. Now the four of you felt more like a family. If you were, by some miracle or fashion, to go back to the city, routine would fall back into its previous structure and you would be alone again.

Lu surprised you by already being in the room when you entered, seated in a corner with a hardened look on his face. It was strangely out of place given his boyish looks often kept his expression soft. Your father looked up from the papers that were neatly piled up on the desk. “Aw, (y/n)! You’re back from town. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Yes, I did,” you aswered cautiously. “The market was full today.” Your eyes flicked towards Cosette, who had taken the only other chair, continuing to fan herself even though the temperature wasn’t anywhere near that drastic. “I heard you wanted to see us all together?”

“Yes! Yes! Um.” Your father looked around, perhaps to see if there was another place for you to sit. As there was none, he went on. “I received a letter from Lu’s old friend, Lin Gao.” Lu perked up at the mention of Gao. None of you had seen him since you came here, thinking that he, like the others, had abandoned you all when the money was lost. Now, that didn’t seem to be the case. “He has worked with several connections and can bring us back into good standing with society. He’s even convinced a few merchants and investors to allow me to broker deals again.” Your father cleared his throat. “There is, however, one condition.”

“What is that, Father?” Lu asked.

“He asked for (y/n)’s hand in marriage.”

The quietest gasp escaped your lips. Gao wanted… to marry you?

As the baby sister, you tended to follow your brother and his friends around, begging for attention and often they obliged you, as long as the setting was appropriate for a child. All of his friends had treated you as their own sister, equally protecting and caring. You’d never suspected them to have thoughts that led into the contrary as you’d grown up.

Lu’s eyes landed on you for a split second, studying your face enough. “Did he say (y/n) specifically?”

“Yes, why (y/n)?” Cosette scoffed. “I would be more than willing.”

“He specifically asked for (y/n)’s hand.”

Cosette closed her fan with a snap. “Well, then. Arrange the wedding so we can get out of this dumpy town.”

But wait. Did you not get a say in this?

Your father leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “The help from Gao would be tremendous. But I will not force anything on to any of you. (Y/n),” he looked at you with conflict in his eyes, “if you do not wish to marry Gao, I will send him a letter politely declining the offer. I can find other means on my own.”

He was giving you a way out, if you so wished. But you couldn’t deny the help this would bring for all of you.

“Can I think about it?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes, of course.”

“What do you mean, think about it?” Cosette nearly flew out of her seat. “What is there to think about? If we are to get our fortune back, then (y/n) must marry him. I would in a heartbeat if he had asked for me.”

“But he didn’t ask for you,” Lu said.

Your father insisted. “Let your sister think about it. To force this upon her would break my heart. I will not have her live unhappily.”

“And what about me! Why should I live unhappily?”

“Enough!” Your father stood to his feet and he slammed his fist down on the desk. You flinched at the noise the collision created. Rare was it for your father to get upset like this. He was usually very levelheaded. “I am still head of this household and you will accept my decision. Now, go!”

With a stomp of her foot, Cosette stormed out of the room like a spoiled child told that she couldn't have a piece of candy. Eyes trained down on the floor, you quietly excused yourself and went upstairs to your room.

Your favorite place in the house was your room, the smallest besides Claudine’s on the first floor. But the trade for it was the reading crook by the window, overlooking the garden. You liked the isolation you could feel when you sat on the bench, knees pulled up close to your chest as your skirts fell over the side. The window was cold as you laid your forehead against the glass. A breeze was moving through, swaying the leaves in the trees and rattling the vines against the stone walls of the house.

What would living with Gao be like? You had never thought of your brother’s friend in a romantic light. Would there be any romance between the two of you? Or would you be condemned to a loveless marriage like so many other girls? Could you live like that?

You had no answers at the moment. You weren’t sure if you would ever have an answer. But a compromise was coming to the forefront of your mind. You didn’t have to say yes right away. Maybe you could meet with Gao, get to know him more, in a different way that how you knew him before. And, if you decided that he was not the kind of man you wanted to spend your life with, if there was no possibility of love between the two of you, perhaps you could convince him to help your father anyway, for sake of his friendship with Lu.

You pictured Gao’s face in your mind, willing yourself to love it. But all that did was churn your stomach.

**

Your father had sent the letter asking if a visit to the city would be possible for you. Gao’s reply came back quicker than expected: yes. He made all the arrangements; he hired the carriage, sent money so you could rest in an inn for a night before arriving in town the next day. Barely a week had gone by since you were first told of this offer and now you were traveling by yourself for the first time in your life.

Cloak wrapped tightly over your shoulders, you kissed your father goodbye on the cheek. Tears were swelling behind your eyes, but you refused to let him see them.

“Be on your best behavior,” he teased. You were the last out of the three to get into trouble. “Write to me as soon as you arrive. Alright?”

“Of course,” you smiled.

Lu patted your shoulder. When you were a child, he showed you affection freely, but now that you were grown, he’d become a bit awkward when other people were watching. Cosette didn’t say a word. She simply fanned herself at a quick rate as smirk rested on her lips. All she carried about was getting back to high society, to the parties and the searching for a husband who possessed a fortune large enough to keep her satisfied.

Your father glanced up at the sky. “Better go now, my dear. The clouds are growing darker. I want you at that inn before the storm comes through.”

“The only way to do that is to go through the forest,” the driver commented from atop the carriage.

Your father seemed unnerved by that observation but gave no protest. “I will wait to hear from you.”

You gave one last kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Goodbye, father. Take care of him, Lu. Will you?”

“Naturally,” Lu said with a chuckle.

You merely nodded to Cosette before stepping into the carriage. The cabby lurched forward and you allowed the small smile that had been straining on your lips to fall away. Anxiety settled in your stomach. You wanted to have a positive outlook on this whole thing. It was better to possibly marry a friend of the family rather than a complete stranger twenty years your senior.

Unclasping the hook that held your cloak together, you let the soft fabric fall behind you on the seat. The literal weight off your shoulders helped you to breathe easier. You closed your eyes and leaned back. There was still a long journey until you would arrive back in a city that you hadn’t seen in months, although it felt more like years. That was another life to you, a past self. One you had been okay with letting go. And now you were uneasily walking back into its arms.

The ground shook, rattling the walls of the carriage. You pushed the curtain out of the way and peaked out the window. Flashes of lightning so bright that not even the thick trees of the forest could keep them back splintered across the sky. The storm had come quicker than anticipated. Raindrops splattered against the dirt floor, starting out slow then growing in pace. Soon it was impossible to see more than five steps in front of you.

The wind grew untamable. The carriage rocked from side to side, the thin wheels ricketing against the strain. A bolt of lightning screamed too close for comfort. The horse reared back in fright as the carriage passed by a ravine. It was all too much. The carriage toppled over, falling down the side of the ravine. You were tossed around the cabby like a rock between a group of children. When the falling finally stopped, you let out a cry of relief. A second cry left your lips, this time for the driver. But no reply came.

The carriage had landed on its side, but thankfully, it had another door to escape through. You clasped the cloak around your shoulders once more and pulled up the hood before pushing the door open and climbing out.

You were soaked as soon as you stepped out of the carriage. The driver was gone. You didn’t know if he was dead or if he had ran away. The horse, the poor thing, didn’t move or whine. Water was slowly rising in the creek from the rushing rain. You had to get out of here. With what little strength you had, you managed to climb back up the side of the hill. A chill froze your fingers and chattered your teeth. You walked in the opposite way that you thought the carriage was heading. Getting back to your home was your only hope. You had never been in these woods and the sky was too dark to tell directions from the sun. The rain was pouring down harder. Each step you took grew weaker. An unseen tree root stuck out of the ground, catching your foot. Shock ran up your arms as you tried to catch yourself when you fell. You couldn’t go anymore. You were too cold, too tired. So you lied there in the mud, wishing for a miracle. The rain soon came to a stop, but you were still too exhausted to push yourself up. Your eyes grew tired. Finally, the lids closed. The sound of horse hooves against the mud grew near, but you couldn't be sure if it was real or simply your imagination clinging to hope.

“We can’t just leave her here, Xao.”

“But what would the master think if we showed up with her?”

“So, you would leave her to die?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then we take her with us! The castle is big enough that he would never even have to know.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Someone lifted you up from the ground, but before you could discover who it was, you lost consciousness completely.

**

You weren’t sure what woke you up. It could have been the splitting headache that pounded at your skull. Or it could have been the shouting coming from the other side of the door.

“Get her OUT of here!”

“My lord, please, see reason. The poor child was dying in that storm.”

“I don’t care. She’s alive now, so get her out!”

“But she’s still sick. The poor thing has a fever. She’s been sweating all night.”

“I do not want her here. No one is to come here, you know that!”

“Let me take care of her. Once she’s on her feet again, I’ll take her back into town.”

“Fine!”

Heavy foot stomps echoed off the floor. One side of the double doors opened and inside stepped the old woman from the market.

You?

“You’re awake,” she sighed. “I can only imagine what had woken you up.” In her hands was a silver tray of different morsels and a tea kettle slowly letting out a flow of steam. Seeing you struggle to sit up, she hurried to set the tray down on the nightstand and help you. “Don’t overexert yourself, miss. You’re not fully recovered from that awful storm yet. You’ve been asleep for two days now.”

Two days! Your father must have been losing his mind when he never received word that you had arrived in town. A coughing fit of your own started up. The old woman gave you a glass of water to calm your throat before adjusting the pillows behind your head. You took in the bedroom that you were housed in. The light gray drapes that hung from the bedposts were old and a little faded but still made from an expensive velvet fabric. The blanket that covered you was soft and warm and smelled of lavender. Cosette would squeal at the size of this place. It was even bigger than her room at the old house in the city.

“Where am I?”

The old woman’s hands stopped before she could pull out the warming pan from the foot of the bed. “You're at the lord’s estate.”

You frowned. “What lord?” As far as you were aware, the closet lord was at least several days ride from town. And you doubted he would have allowed a room to go untouched like this one obviously was.

Sadness fell upon the old woman’s face. “He’s a good man. A good man with a tragic past.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the old woman folded her hands and laid them in her lap. “Do you remember the story Mrs. Mooney was telling you at the market?” You nodded. “This is his home.”

“He… exists?”

“Yes. Though the awful rumors….” She shook her head. “Anyway, yes. But his lordship isn’t accustomed to visitors. I apologize for what you might have heard.”

Perhaps it was the fever, but your curiosity was now out of your control. “Why doesn’t he want anyone here?”

The old woman stood up. “Never you mind. We’ll get you back on your feet and then Mr. Chan will take you back into town.” She poured a fresh cup of tea, handing it to you carefully.

“Do I have to go back to town?”

“We don’t really have a choice, dear. You heard the master.” She eyed you as you sipped on the warm, caramel colored tea. “What is it? Why don’t you want to go back to town?”

You finished off the tea before explaining. “My family wants me to get married, to help the financial situation. At first, I thought I was willing to at least try, to see that man again and find out if I could love him. But… now I’m grateful for the storm.”

“If you don’t wish to marry him, why not say so?”

“Because if my father never restores his reputation and our family falls further into ruin, it will be all my fault.”

The old woman shook her head. “You poor thing. That’s too much weight to bear.” She let out a long sigh. “Try to eat and then get more rest. Your eyes look heavy. We’ll see if we can’t delay your being cured by a few more days.” She headed for the door. After opening on side, she halfway turned back around. “I’m Mrs. Chan, by the way. If you need anything, pull on the cord by the bed. I’ll hear the bell and come to you. Now, rest.”

As soon as the door closed and you were alone again, you felt the weight of your lids growing. Reaching over to the tray, you tore off a piece of the bun and chewed on it slowly. Eventually, you nodded off into a dreamless sleep.

**

Over the next several days, you passed between peaceful sleeps and uncomfortable awareness. Your fever broke on day two, but you still felt weak. Mrs. Chan checked up on you often, keeping you well fed and making sure there was a fresh pitcher of water or tea for you to drink. When you stopped sleeping as much, she brought you a book to occupy your time. But you read through the comedic romance quickly. A tingling was coursing up and down your legs. They needed to move, to be used. You’d been lying in bed for so long you weren’t sure if they even worked properly anymore.

Earlier, Mrs. Chan had stopped by to say she was going into town to pick a few things up at the market. Mr. Chan was to be out on the grounds so if you needed anything it would have to wait for her return.

Curiosity was a dangerous thing. On one hand, you could find nothing of interest in this ancient castle. On the other hand, you could find yourself in the absolute wrong place and have yourself thrown out into the cold before Mrs. Chan could come back and rescue you.

Silly. All of it was. A little walk wouldn’t do any harm. You would make sure to stay near your room and if you heard footsteps, you would run back here in an instant.

With your feet bare and the nightgown Mrs. Chan had given you made of a thinner material, you were a bit cold as you left the comfort of the blankets. But you pushed forth with your curiosity. This grand room was all you had seen of your haven. You wanted to know more about the home of the lord whose memory haunted the village. You stuck your head out first, looking down the hall from either side. It was empty save for the polished suits of armor that lined the sides, sitting between old portraits previous tenants. As quietly as you could, you closed the bedroom door behind you and softly stepped further into the hall. Through the long space you made your way, glancing at every painting as you passed. Some had chipped paint while others’ frames had dulled over the years, but each one was still magnificent, the subject stunningly beautiful in their own unique ways. You weren’t sure if it was the magic of the artist or if the family was truly blessed in that manner.

Every so often you would peer into a room when the door was unlocked. Most of them were bedrooms or small studies. By the collection of dust gathered on most of the furniture, they hadn’t been used in quiet a while. Soon, the hall took a turn, spilling out into the Grand Hall where the other hallways met. You started to go right when a set of double doors down a shorter hallway in the other direction caught your eye. They were bigger than any of the other doors you had seen so far. You hurried to that one instead, intrigued by what might be behind it. Barely able to get it open with your weak arms, you squeezed through the space and stumbled inside. Then you gasped.

When Mrs. Chan had described the library to you, she had said that the family had a fair collection of books. You might have to clarify with her what a “fair amount” really meant.

The library was housed in the back most tower, the shelves built into the walls and going higher than your eyes could see. Ladders made of wood and metal were attached to the spaces between the shelves. They moved freely from side to side to put any book within reach. As a child, you thought your father had the biggest collection of books by any one person in the world. How silly you were. This place could hold twenty of your father’s old library. You whirled around and around, taking in every detail. It was like a fairy tale.

You stepped closer to the wall and ran your hand over the leather bindings. It had been so long since you’d been able to take in the smell of old books. You had only been able to save two of your favorite novels from the auction. They were currently hidden under your bed. If Cosette ever got a whiff of them, she’d sell them to pay for a new dress. As you made your way around the library, you spotted another door, one that nearly blended in with the shelves. Feeling brave from your latest discovery, you tried the handle. It turned with ease. You pulled the door towards you. Sunlight spilled into the library. The secondary room was mostly empty – save for one object. A piano.

Bang!

The door shut in your face, startling you backwards. You stumbled into something hard. Turning to see what it was, you gasped in fright

A tall, dark hair man with the left half of his face covered in a white mask glared at you.

“What are you doing in here!” he shouted, face glowing red with fury.

“I-I-I’m sor-sorry,” you stutter as you scurried back. The door to the room stopped you from going any further. You were trapped with no way to escape. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You were supposed to say in your room,” he continued to bellow, not concerned at all with your fear. “Stay away from this room! Go!”

That last command was enough to send you running, passing the man and leaving the library. You hurried to the Great Hall, to get back to your room as quickly as possible. Looking back over your shoulder, you checked to see if he was coming after you. The hallway was empty behind you. Once safely back in your room, you scurried under your covers as if they would protect you from the masked man.

**

Mrs. Chan gave no indication that she was aware of your little adventure. If the masked man – the lord of this castle, you presumed – had told her, surely you would have been thrown out by now. She did, however, seem upset about something.

“Is everything alright?” you asked before she could leave the room with your empty food tray.

“Oh, it’s nothing I want to trouble you with, dear,” Mrs. Chan said.

You smiled at her. “I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.”

A second went by and then Mrs. Chan sighed. “It’s just the master. He wasn’t been sleeping well. He’s been wondering through the west wing lately and I’m worried about him.”

The west wing? That was where you were headed before the library stole your attention. “What’s in the west wing?”

“Nothing of importance,” Mrs. Chan snapped. It was a harsher tone that you were used to. You lowered your gaze remorsefully. “Oh, dear. I’ve upset you. Don’t worry about and try to get more rest. You need color back in your cheeks.” She left the room, blowing out the lamp before shutting the door and leaving you in darkness.

You woke a few hours later to a loud bang. At first you thought of ignoring it. Then the thought of something happening to Mrs. Chan came into your mind.

Throwing a blanket around your shoulders, you carefully relit the lamp and stepped out into the hallway.

“Hello?” you called out softly. Another bang answered you. It was faint, not coming from this hallway. You followed it, occasionally calling out again. No human ever replied.

You passed through the Great Hall and into the west wing. You should learned, really, from your earlier excursion. But the thought of someone being trouble refused to let you turn back. Now that you were closer to the source, a soft moaning could be heard among the silence. You pressed your ear from door to door, trying to see if it was coming from behind one of them. It was the door on the very end that held back the sound. With enough moonlight coming from the wide window at the end of the hall to see by, you put the oil lamp down on the floor out of the way and went inside.

Even in the darkness, you could see the smoke and soot stained walls. The remnants of a bed stood in the middle of the wood. Hanging behind it was a portrait of a beautiful woman with golden hair and rich brown eyes that stuck out even with half of the painting burned and curled.  

“What are you doing in here!”

You gasped as the lord of the castle stepped out of the shadows. His mask was gone, but he kept the left side of his face covered with his hand. In his other hand was a small torch. With its light you could see the scars on the back of his hand, the tight and lifted skin usually caused by fire. You said nothing, too stunned to find words.

Dropping his left hand, he reached out and grabbed you by the wrist. The scars on his face were now partially visible, but still mostly hidden in shadow and by the locks of hair that had fallen. From what you could see, they matched the scars visible on his hand. “I asked you why you are here!”

“I’m sorry!” Your voice came out in squeaks, fear running you cold despite the proximity of the flame. “I heard noises. I thought someone might be in trouble.”

He sneered at your answer. “If you’re well enough to walk around then GET. OUT!” He practically threw you out of the room.

You landed on your knees but didn’t stay there for long. You scrambled up to your feet and took off down the hall, leaving the oil lamp behind. The nightgown caught on your foot in your haste as you passed the staircase. You went tumbling down the marble stairs, a scream piercing your throat. You couldn’t stop no matter how you tried. When the bottom of the staircase finally came, you were out cold.

Burned

Hello all you lovely people! Today I come to you bearing gifts!

the gift that is this fic, which is quite possibly the longest fanfic I’ve ever done. Period. I’ve written more for a personal story of mine, but this one…this just takes the cake.

14 pages, 6988  words. That may not sound like a lot, but for me it was a huge thing, and I’m actually pretty proud of it. 

this was inspired by the song “Burn the Witch” by Shawn James, which I highly recommend listening to towards the end of this.

So this involves witches, as you might have guessed. I did do some research on this, referencing a few holidays. With that being said, this is not the fic to go to looking for accurate information about Pagan Holidays, their differences, similarities and all the right customs. This is all mixed in with some fictional things that I felt helped the story flow. If you want an accurate description of their holidays, practices, beliefs, please go do your own research, or ask someone that knows about them, as that person is not me. 

With that out of the way! here are some mentions of some characters in here!

Aizawa, Present Mic, All Might, All for One, Shigaraki, LOV (vague description), Ochaco, Iida, Todoroki, mama Midoriya

Warnings: Character Deaths (kind of) vague descriptions of death, witch hunt, stakes, fire. OOC Shigaraki probably, and Izuku. If there are more warnings needed let me know. Only edited by me. May edit later. Right now i just wanna post this guy.

@katsukikitten​, @what-the-censored-xd​ I hope you enjoy!

You were standing beside your mother, hanging onto her skirts as she placed a flower crown in your hair, your small hands reaching to gently feel their soft petals. 

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

It was the brightest summer you could remember, the first thing you could remember actually.

You could see your father, as well as some of your parents’ friends, all gathering wood into this large pile to be lit that night. You felt a thrum of something run through your fingers as your hands fell back to your sides. Excitedly you tugged on your mother’s skirts. 

She’d just placed a crown upon a friend’s head, looking down at you with that sweet smile that had you giggling. 

“What has you so giggly darling?” 

She bent down to your level, nearly falling over as you thrust your zinging hand in the general direction of her face. She carefully pushed your fingers back, a gasp at her lips as soft yellow hues glowed from your fingertips, your other hand still preoccupied with the soft flower petals.

“Well would you look at that! I knew you’d be getting it soon!” She pressed kisses all over your face, the last one landing on your forehead. Her attention was pulled from you as someone called out to her, a young woman, no older than your own mother, with hair so dark it was almost green, carrying someone who’s hair matched hers. 

“Inko! You made it!” She hugged the woman- now named Inko- closely, only pulling back after a tight squeeze. 

“Thank you for inviting us! Are you sure it’s alright that we’re here? These aren’t, well, really our traditions to do-”

“Nonsense! You’re family, you are just as welcome here now as any other part of the year. Now who is this young one?” You watched as she motioned to the, what you could now see was a young boy, who had the brightest green eyes you had ever seen, with a magic all their own.

“This is my son, Izuku, my pride and joy,” She nuzzled his cheek, pressing a kiss there. In an attempt to get him to smile she blew a raspberry on his cheek, which had him giggling, but his eyes remained trained on your mother. “He’s a little shy around strangers however”

“ That’s the same little one I saw last year? Goodness, he’s grown so much!”

“Oh I know! It seems like only yesterday I just had him! 

You frowned, you wanted mama’s attention! It was like she’d forgotten you were there. You tugged on her skirts with a whine, hardly mollified when she only gave you her hand. You pressed it against your cheek. 

“And this is the lady of the day?” Inko set down Izuku in favor of looking you over.

“Yes indeed, our little Birthday girl, (Y/N)” She smiled down at you letting go of your hand, “Why don’t you show Izuku how to make a flower crown, hm?” 

At the idea of doing something fun your mood brightened immediately, offering your hand to him. He instead looked up at his mother, now adorned with her own flower crown, who gave him a light push towards you. 

He nervously gave you his hand and you pulled him over to the circle of people braiding flowers together.

Somehow, that little moment blossomed into friendship. As the hours passed, he’d opened up, little by little, much like the flowers in your hand had when first blooming. He told you stories from his village, tales of a heroic man- a knight you would later remember- under the name of “All Might”.

 As he talked, he paid close attention to how your hands moved as he made his crown. While it wasn’t perfect, he placed the small crown over the one your mother had given you, saying it wasn’t any good. You told him right then and there you were proud to wear it. You had yet to finish yours, so you asked him to continue his stories as you worked. It may have been all he talked about for the first hour since then, but you were keen to hear his tales, eyes sparkling with something wonderful as his freckled cheeks turned pink at the sound of your laughter. 

He was also incredibly interested in your traditions. You were too young to have them all memorized by heart, but you did know that at every celebration, you, and others of your kind in the area, came to this specific clearing in the woods. 

The area had been used for as long as any elder could remember, slowly built into a circle with a place for the fire in the center, steps built into the hill as makeshift seats, the grass around the area lush and green, the best to dance around the fire in. During this celebration in particular you adorned crowns of flowers and built the fire, dancing and offering praise to the gods. Hardly any from the village came to these celebrations, but they did not condemn your ways and kept to their own. 

You danced and played the day away, the other children chasing after you in good fun. Giggles and loud shrieks filled the air, air soft and warm with the scent of the lavender fields so close by.

Of course, you were both so young then, by the time the stars were high in the sky, the both of you were out like lights, leaning against one another with a blanket draped over your laps. You only remember briefly waking as you were cuddled next to someone in your bed. You paid no mind as your father kissed your forehead, leaving you with a whisper of ‘goodnight’. You snuggled back into the person beside you, green hair tickling your nose as you slipped back into sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, breakfast lingering in the air. Your heart clenched sadly as you were alone. Had yesterday been a dream? Where had your new friend gone? You scrambled out of bed into the main room, Izuku sitting next to his mother, stuffing a sweet bread your father had made into his mouth, whilst Inko and your mother talked about the previous night.

Since then, Izuku and his mother had returned to every holiday, the Autumn equinox, Samhain, the Winter solstice, every single one. You would count down the days, a small piece of charcoal to mark on your wall until the day he arrived. 

With every visit came more tales of knights and their battles, He’d even started writing them down, so that way no one would forget them and their deeds. You had joked that with a memory like his, he would never forget. 

During the time in between visits, you learned how to help manage your father’s shop. He taught you which herbs and plants had medicinal properties, how to bring a potion to the right temperature and keep it there, hands glowing a soft blue. 

Your mother taught you the other properties of magic, warding away evil and the right way to banish an evil that had long sunk its roots into it’s target, hands glowing a soft purple. You were all too happy to learn from them, how to help people with a kind hand and a soft smile. 

But there were times your heart had wanted to be cruel, to be angry. When all you wanted to do was place something wicked on the boys that ran around your village and teased you. Especially when they had torn apart a necklace your mother had given you. 

It wasn’t rare by any means, but your mother had given it to you and thus it was special.

You told your mother as such after hours of searching for the pendant, with little to no luck of even finding the chain. She had nearly dropped the jar of spices into the soup she had been making. 

“Curses are not things to be taken lightly darling,” She sat you down at the table, your feet kicking in an irritated fashion, toes barely touching the floor. “They are dangerous, and not for the faint of heart. But most importantly, that is not what our magic is for” she tilted your pouting face up to hers, so she could look you in the eye, her other hand taking your smaller one into hers. “Our magic is to help and heal. Those of our magic who choose otherwise have…They have died, or worse even. So promise me you’ll never curse or hex anyone. Alright?”

“I promise mum,” you sighed, anger dissipating into a strange form of disappointment and forced contentment. She let go of your hand with a smile, a confused expression on your face as you opened your hand to find the necklace sitting on your palm as if it had been there for hours. 

That promise only lasted a short time. The next time Izuku had visited, the boys began to pick on him as well, he was shorter and smaller than they were, a prime target. That was all easily ignorable, taking his hand and leading him off somewhere else. The last straw had been a kick to his dream.

“You’ll never be a real knight, no matter how hard you try! You’re too much of a mama’s boy, too weak!”

You could have sworn you’d seen red, though Izuku begged you not to do anything. It was only his asking that spared the boys a beating they would not come out of unscathed. 

So instead, come nightfall, you had slipped from your bed, careful not to step on Izuku as you passed. You snuck into the shop, grabbing one of your father’s bowls and setting out into the forest. You picked at your ingredients with haste, mashing them together with water and a stone. You uttered the foulest curse your young mind could think of; giving the boys a taste of being so close but never there. An itch they couldn’t scratch, they would never be able to scratch, no matter how sharp their nails.

Pleased with your work, you washed out the now empty bowl. You ignored the sickly feeling in your stomach, setting the bowl back in its place. You closed the door as softly as you could, sneaking back into bed.

However, that morning you awoke to your skin feeling itchy, the sensation unrelenting no matter how hard your nails scratched. Your whimpers of panic woke Izuku, eyes wide with panic of his own, he dove out the door and ran for your mother. 

That’s how you found yourself alone, with your mother, the offending bowl in question as well as one that had an ointment of some kind in it, your mother smearing it over your red skin.

“I hope you’ve learned something from this,” her voice held just the barest hint of amusement, though only just barely. “Poison ivy isn’t exactly a walk in the park” she finished with your arms and moved on to your back. 

“If you weren’t careful however,” her voice turned hard, your body tensing at the shift in tone, “This could have turned out far worse. Far more dangerous. Magic isn’t a game, there are real consequences to your actions, just as there are in any other parts of life” You nodded your head solemnly, the back of your mind thanking just about everything for the relief the ointment brought. 

Of course you had to learn the hard way the effects of going against your own nature. 

You’d spent that Summer Solstice wrapped up with an ointment, dealing with Izuku’s annoying little smirk.

“I appreciate the thought (Y/N),” He whispered to you, the two of you sat a ways from the fire as you watched the others dance, “You wanted to defend me, but please, don’t go around cursing people, for my sake if not yours” he laughed, swatting your hand away from your own arm as you tried to itch it. 

“Yeah, yeah, see if I ever do anything nice for you ever again” you groused, no heat behind your words. You were best friends, you’d do anything for him, just like he would you.

It was on your seventeenth birthday, a coming of age for a young witch, when you learned how far those feelings would go.

It was one hell of a birthday, you thought, sitting behind the wagon full of flowers that had yet to be formed into crowns, crying pitifully. The young girls of the village had teased you, your dress was so short compared to the usual style, even the sleeves! Your ankles were on full display and your feet were bare.

You hardly minded their comments, their concerns didn’t matter. It was your coming of age celebration as well as the Solstice. Everything was perfect, you’d even woken up early, gotten all your chores done and had enough time to have a relaxing bath beforehand. Their sense of fashion didn’t matter compared to your traditions. Not only that, but your mother had made the dress herself, it was soft and comfortable. 

It was only when the other witches your age had decided that the color you wore wasn’t appropriate for the celebration, in these ‘modern’ times, far too dark and disrespectful. While they had etched a seed of self consciousness into your mind, you carried on, your mother had chosen this color specifically for you and the celebration at hand. The colors were fine! In your irritation, you stomped away hardly looking where you were going, falling face first and sliding into a patch of mud, probably leftover from yesterday’s rain.

You looked up from your predicament, one of the others dogs lifting up its leg to pee near you but not on you. At that angle it hardly mattered. The giggles from younger children were harsh enough, grating on your ears, whispers from some of the elders of this being a bad omen. But what was the worst of it all? The concern in Izuku’s eyes. He’d made a beeline towards you, but before he could reach you, you had sprinted off, just away from everyone.

You didn’t know why his eyes made it all the worse, that look never would have bothered you before, right?

The sun was starting to set, the wood was almost arranged perfectly to burn all night long.

You wiped your eyes, glaring down at the mud now on your hands.

“I thought I might find you here”

You jumped, heart launching itself into overdrive as you whirled around only to see Izuku.

“Oh! Izuku…you scared me” you placed a hand over your heart, as if it would slow to a normal pace if you did so. “Shouldn’t you be helping with the fire?” you asked, scooting over so he could sit next to you.

“What kind of a friend would I be if I let you be here by yourself?” he asked, his gaze patiently waiting to meet yours, as soon as you had the courage to.

“You seemed alright with me being here up until now” you muttered. A flash of hurt appeared in his eyes, you immediately regret your harsh tone.

“W-Well, I had wanted to let you cool down before I just got in your space-”

“No, that was unfair of me Izuku, I’m sorry. I just…everything was supposed to be perfect. Or realistically perfect. Falling flat on my face in mud wasn’t exactly a part of the plan” you wiped your hands off on what little remained of your dress. “Or being considered a possible bad omen”

“I know what that’s like, remember on my fifteenth birthday, when I was helping carry all those crates?” You had to hold back a snort, as you recalled the story. 

Your father had arranged for you to meet a supplier of a rare type of herb, as well as a few crates of spices for one of the shopkeepers in the village. The poor man had fallen ill this year and had somehow convinced his supplier to meet him halfway instead of going to the nearest town. 

Izuku had been visiting at the time and, of course, offered to help you. You had just gotten over the main hill, you could see the people of your village milling about. You turned to look over at Izuku, only to watch as he fell face first onto the ground, tripping over a root. The barrels of spices went rolling down the hill, him rolling after them. 

The barrels landed with a crash against some boxes stacked near the well, Izuku was hardly so lucky as he had rolled right into the wells wall.

“You were so lucky that you came out of that with only a broken arm” you laughed softly, a huff of laughter escaping him as well. 

“At least the spices were alright, I’d have felt so bad if they’d all gone to waste because of my clumsiness” he placed a hand over yours, not even minding the dirt and tears that clung to it. 

“It’s not quite the same as a ‘bad omen’, it’s also probably a little thoughtless of me to say ‘ forget them’ when they’re a huge part of your culture, your traditions. But…I want you to know that, they could call you any and all these bad things under the sun…and your parents wouldn’t believe them for a minute…I wouldn’t believe them for a minute.” 

He stood up then, pulling you gently along with him. You allowed him, though your eyes were too preoccupied with seeing what everyone else is doing. Most were gathered around the fire, listening as one of the elders spoke, others talking and laughing amongst themselves, their cups full of sweet liquid.

He led you down to the river, the water warmed by the long summer day, softly babbling as the wildlife went about their ways. He sat you down on one of the rocks, taking one in front of you for himself.

“What are we doing over here Izuku?” 

He didn’t answer you, reaching into one of his pockets and dunking a cloth into the water.

“Isn’t that your handkerchief?” you ask, face molded into disgust as the cloth came closer to you.

“What? No, well yes, but this one is an extra one, it’s clean I promise” he gently placed his hand on your chin, tilting your face up as he wiped the muck off of your face.

His touch was soft but firm, eyes only taking in his work as your own counted the freckles that danced along his cheeks, the way he bit his lip in concentration. Somewhere in the deepest part of your mind and the very center of your heart, you knew why that look had your cheeks turning red and your heart hammering in your chest. But at the forefront of your mind, you couldn’t tell why.

The two of you were silent as he continued his pattern, dunking the cloth into the water, washing out the dirt and wringing out the water to carefully wash away the dirt on your face. 

It doesn’t take him long however, to finish with his task, washing and wringing out the cloth for the last time. His eyes finally meet yours, offering a gentle smile that only widened as he booped your nose with the cloth, the face you made sending pink butterflies through his stomach. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, his good mood far too contagious.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, his hand still holding your face as he took in your smile. You only hummed in agreement, internally mourning the loss of warmth from his hand as he pocketed the cloth. 

“Thank you, Izuku, that was…you are too kind for this world, I think” You stood up from the rock, you couldn’t stay down by the river all night. Your dress may have been ruined, you’d have to apologize to mother for it, but someone must have brought an extra. Or so you hoped. 

Hand in hand, you walked back to the clearing, trying to slip past the majority of the party to get to your mother, only for a gentle hand to stop you both in your tracks.

One of the elders, Mrs.Tachibana, looked up at you with kind eyes. She was mostly known for her talent for seeing into the future. That’s what the majority said it was, she described it as, ‘ getting a feeling I’ll need such and such object today’ only for it to come in handy at the oddest of times.

“I’m sorry Mrs.Tachibana, did I bump into you?” She shook her head at your question.

“Oh no dear, but I do have something for you. I had made it for my daughter, but it seems she made her own dress this time. I think It’s a good color for you!” She carefully handed the dress to you, to which you handed to Izuku, your body was covered in mud! You weren’t about to dirty some other dress.

“Oh are you sure-”

“Oh yes of course dear, no one else is going to be wearing it tonight!” 

You quickly changed behind a tapestry your mother had been working on, feeling much better and cleaner in this new dress, it was a little on the short end, but just barely past what your mother’s dress had been.

You walk back out to find Izuku waiting for you, the fire having been lit. The music was hardly loud, but the drums struck a chord within your heart that pulsed with energy, a need to sing along, to move to the beat. You bound over to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I see you’re feeling better” He mused, his foot tapping to the beat.

“Much better. Come dance with me?” You tugged gently on his hand toward the fire.

“You know I’m not the best dancer (Y/N)” He warned, as if you didn’t have years of experiencing it first hand. You shrugged your shoulders, even though he was far from good, he was most definitely not a disaster.

“Is that a No?” You swayed back and forth on your heels, looking up at him with what you hoped was a sweet enough look to get what you liked. He let go of your hand, for a moment you feared you’d pushed your luck too far, suddenly his hands were on your waist, lifting you into the air as he spun you into the dancing circle, your shriek of surprise worth the slight pain of him stepping on his own toes as he brought you back down.

You danced the night away together, hardly pausing for a break, you didn’t need to for whatever reason. You just wanted his arms around you, spinning you this way and that, lifting you in time with the music that had your stomach doing somersaults that tickled.

He felt the same, your laughter had his heart soaring, the smile on your face shooting Cupid’s arrows right through his heart. He tripped and stumbled every so often, but it was all worth it if it meant you were having a good time.

The two of you finally stopped to take a break, the moon high in the sky. You pulled him towards the river once again, the cool air there was bound to cool you off. 

You sat down in the grass, pulling him down with you as you laughed at his startled expression.

“Well I’d say you did quite well with dancing!”

“Oh do you really? Even with all my fumbles?”

“Eh, you just added a few new steps!”

“A few new steps she says!” He barked out a laugh, tears gathering in his eyes, your own giggles twisting into his like sweet music. 

Your laughter died out naturally, the music of crickets and rushing water kept you company, the drums from the music thumping distantly. He leaned back, looking up to the sky, you followed suit, your shoulder pressed against his as you pointed up at the stars.

“I think I’ll draw a new image in the stars. Just for tonight” You traced the shape with your fingers, Izuku mirroring your actions to see if he could get the shape.

“And, what are you going to call this new one?”

“Hmm…I’m not sure yet. It’s a process” 

Your brow furrowed as you thought, the thoughts clear in your eyes, oh he was hopeless.

You jumped slightly at the feel of his hand cupping your jaw. His eyes were full of an emotion you couldn’t name, but it set your skin ablaze.

“I’ve had a great time tonight” you murmur, eyes wide and watching. What was he going to do?

“I have too,” he matched your volume, thumb idly stroking your cheek gently.

“I’ve actually thought about this for a while, but I was…afraid to ask you, in case I somehow ruined our friendship. But…the thing is (Y/N), I know our friendship is strong enough to withstand that. I want more than a friendship with you, I…I want to be with you all the time. I wanna be there on your good days, bad days, those days where everything and nothing are going on at once, I want it all,” he took a deep breath, steadying his shaking limbs and resolving his nerves.

“What do you say (Y/N)? Be my Love?” 

Your eyes had watered considerably, your own hand holding his, you couldn’t help but nod.

“I was starting to think that my feelings were one sided,” you laughed, tears dripping down your cheeks. “I would love nothing more than to be yours” 

He leaned into your space, so carefully, his hand gently pulling you closer until your lips met his, soft and warm, just like yours. You slowly pulled back, only to be gently pulled back in again, over and over until you were used to one another’s rhythm, kisses becoming slower and longer.

His tongue softly asked for entrance, and you readily allowed him access. He tasted of the sweet drink that had been served, goosebumps raised along your skin as he leaned you backwards into the grass, his eyes half lidded as adoration danced along the pinks of his cheeks. 

He was careful not to press you too hard into the ground as he kissed you again, your tongues dancing as your hand gripped the hair at the base of his skull. The groan that rumbled through his chest and that particular rough pass of his lips had your toes curling.

He parted from you again, staring at your kiss bruised lips, wet and so inviting looking, moving slowly towards your (E/C) colored eyes, finding the same emotion fluttering in his heart. Carefully he sat up, you following after him with a smile on your face. You sat together, curled into one another as you watched the stars.

It had been four years since that Solstice, the two of you now adults. A year or two after becoming lovers, Izuku had finally found someone to train him into becoming a knight, a real hero. It meant that you would see him less, but he would always write to you when he could.

You were saddened at the news, but also so proud. Finally after all these years, his dream was coming true. He promised you that he would always come back to you, that once he had become a knight, able to help you build your own healing stand in the main city, He’d properly ask you to marry him. You knew he always kept his promises, one way or another. 

How could you deny him his dream? You couldn’t truthfully.

That brought you here, scratching out another day along the tally you made. Only a few more days until Izuku came back. You helped your father run the shop now, almost fully taking over as the village healer. 

You braced the day with a smile as the regulars came in, the usual ointments for Mrs.Tachibana, some medicine to the mother of some poor twins who had caught some sickness during the seasons change to spring, a wooden spoon covered in semi-crystalized honey for the wailing babe, their teeth slowly but surely coming in.

The morning rush could hardly be considered as such, your doors opening right at the first peak of dawn. You waved off the last of the morning patrons in no time at all.

You bend down to grab a few herbs, mixing something to help soothe Mr.Yamada’s vocal chords. You hear the door push open, pulling you from your line of thought, your eyes meeting bright green.

“Izuku!” you cry, rushing over to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug you could manage. He’d grown so much taller than you last remembered- well just bigger in general!

He’d bulked up considerably- he joked he wanted to get better at giving hugs along with being a Knight- and was now a full two heads taller than you. You only pull back to place your hands on his jaw, pulling him down to kiss you properly.

“Did I surprise you?” he laughed, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 

“Yes! You weren’t due back for a few more days! Oh I’m so happy your home!” You stood back up on your toes to press more kisses to his face. “Tell me everything!”

He told you all about the training he went through- hell as he called it, eyes looking back with a slight fondness that only nostalgia could bring- the antics he and some other knights in training had gotten into. His teacher, Aizawa, was a hard man, but ultimately soft hearted in his own way. He couldn’t wait for you to meet the friends he had made, and you were excited to see them.

“I have heard some…other things though” he hesitated, leaning against the counter as you finished Mr.Yamada’s medicine, the yellow glow from your hands dimming until it was no more. “In the city they’re telling stories of witches…and not good ones either.” you hummed in agreement, concern laced into your features.

You’d heard of rumors of witches in nearby towns and villages. At first, nothing was seemingly worrisome about it. So some covens had decided to announce their place in the world, big deal.

Until the rumors had become something dark. Stories of sacrifices, hexes and curses upon innocent bystanders, children. Soon there were rumors of witches in every town, every village.

“Even the people here have started to become…nervous” beforehand, the villagers not a part of your coven had nothing to fear from you, you’d never given them any reason to. But these new witches, witches that were said to be everywhere, brought fear into your community. 

“I’m worried Izuku, they’ve started burning people in the next few towns…I’m not sure what we could do, a show of our magic could scare them into a frenzy, but not doing anything could be just as bad. They even have a witch hunter!” you set down the pestle gently, Izuku taking your hand in his.

“I’m worried too. But for right now, the best we can do is wait and see how things go. No matter what, I’ll always be here, you won’t go through this alone.” your heart fluttered warmly at his words, pressing a kiss to his hand.

The next few days did little to raise or diminish your worries. You walked about the village, showing him what all had changed in his absence, ignoring the stares of the same village girls that had teased your dress all those years ago. 

It wasn’t until the third week that had changed. Even that morning, the dew felt strung and the air was hot and still. Your father had asked you the night before to gather some lavender from the fields in the morning, he was running low on stock.

The two of you agreed, baskets in hand you walked to the fields. 

The breeze began to pick up as you climbed up the hills, the sweet scent dancing around you as you looked up into your lovers eyes.

“Is it just me, or have the lavender fields gotten smaller?” he joked, sitting beside you as you carefully snipped away at the plant, making sure to cut the stalk specifically so the flower could regrow. 

“No, I think you’ve just gotten taller.” You mused, handing him the stalks to carefully separate the leaves and the flowers themselves. 

It was a tense silence as you worked, though you couldn’t tell what was on his. On yours however, was the frequent news of witches being killed. But not only witches, but innocent people as well, for the slightest and most ridiculous thing. Spoiled milk, your neighbor suddenly falling ill after accidentally tripping over your shoe? 

These people wouldn’t know a witch if one kicked them in the ass.

“I think,” Izuku startled you from your thoughts, “It would be best if tonight, you and your family leave with me. At least until all of this calms down.” There would be no reasoning with the public, not with the mass hysteria and distrust of everyone.

“I would agree, but papa would never give up his shop, we’ve been there for years, generations even” you handed him a few more stalks. 

“We’ll have to convince him somehow. I had hoped things would die down, considering the evidence and logic-”

“Since when have the masses and logic ever seen eye to eye?” you quip back, brow raised into bittersweet amusement.

“Since never, but I had hoped…Well It doesn’t really matter what I’d hoped. What I’m thinking now is, I write to my fellow knights in training for help. To help move your coven safely” He started to mumble, various questions littering his mind, how fast could a letter get there? 

Their letters had been casual, while important, they weren’t of any dire emergency. Would his friends believe him? No of course they would, once he proved to them the logic of things. The masses may not be so…sensitive to logic, but his fellow knights were not the masses.

It takes you until sunset to gather enough petals to fill the basket, though the two of you were hardly in any hurry. You walked back to the village, the tense air having loosened just ever so slightly.

All the relaxation the lavender provided was gone the second black smoke was visible over the hill. Lavender forgotten, you ran to the village, the smoke billowing from two stakes. You raced down the hill, passing the well.

No…No gods please no!

On one stake was the remnants of your mother, her eyes open towards the sky as her body drew no more breath. Beside her was your father, eyes closed. A cry of rage and sorrow rang loose, distant from your ears as strong, familiar arms wrapped around you. You screamed and kicked, clawed at his arms. Your throat felt raw as you cried, eyes looking for someone, anyone to blame.

You’d only heard descriptions of him, hairdo pale it was blue, with eyes as red as the blood of innocents he condemned- Tomura Shigaraki.

“Let their souls be cleansed of this evil, so they may find rest at the side of the great one, All for One” his voice was horrid, nasal and cruel, the imagery of snakes filling the back of your mind. He didn’t believe a word he was saying, so evident by the snarl at his lip he called a smile, twisted pleasure saturating his eyes.

“Ah, the main event has arrived!” he snapped his fingers motioning towards you and Izuku, his guards making their way over to you.

One man pulled you from Izuku’s grasp, two men grabbing Izuku by the arms. He swore, headbutting one of the guards, kicking back on the others shin. “You let go of her!” he growled, another pair tackling him down to the ground to restrain him.

“You evil, wicked thing! How dare you kill these innocent people, how dare-” you shrieked and shrieked as you struggled against your captor, another guard capturing your other arm.

“You may struggle now witch! The evil within fights back! But don’t worry, you’ll soon be cleansed.”

Despite your struggles, the both of you are taken into one of the old jails, hidden underground.

The place was dusty from lack of use, the packed earth against the stone kept it cool. You were leaned up against the bars, Izuku leaning against the same ones across from you. He couldn’t hold you like he wanted, the bars too small for anything else but his hands.

“I should have thought about this harder…I should have made a plan sooner” he murmured, breaking the silence. “If I hadn’t wasted time, then maybe-”

“Don’t” your voice was clipped and harsh. You hadn’t meant to be, regret adding to the myriad of emotions pulsing around your broken heart. “Mum and Papa wouldn’t want you to…to talk like that.” you wipe a tear as best as you can, your hand reaching to find his again.

“It’s no one’s fault but that damned Shigaraki” you hiss, “ He’s the witch hunter. He’s selling the world a story and they’re all buying it.” you could feel his lips pressed against your forehead. You shift so you are on your knees, holding onto the bars for balance, you kiss him, deeply, trying to memorize the taste of him one last time. 

You stay like that, murmuring sweet nothings to one another, for who knows how long. You only know that it is all too soon when they open the doors again, dragging you out to the stake. Izuku struggles against the guards as they force him into a kneeling position beside Shigaraki.

Your heart hammers in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you struggle against your bonds. What you wouldn’t give to become the witch they so feared, maybe then your parents would be alive. Maybe then you and your betrothed would have a chance of surviving.

The fire starts all too quickly, Izuku’s agonized screams of horror sharp in your mind as tears run down your cheeks. Your last image of him couldn’t be of his eyes filled with hopelessness. 

“I love you Izuku! I love you so much, We’ll be together again I swear it-”

“Silence Witch! Your spells have no power here!”

You ignored them, screaming louder, a cool burning sensation wrapping around the ring finger of your left hand, “I will find you! I don’t care how long it takes, we will be together!”

“I love you (Y/N)!” he cries back, a cool burning sensation around his left ring finger was left unnoticed. He was focused entirely on you. Until his world went black.

The guard righted himself, adjusting his hands behind his back, Izuku sat there, his head tilted forward, unconscious. Your heart finally severed, the only explanation for the black ink that spilled from it, tainting all in its path. The wind howled as a sudden storm raged above you, hair twisting this way and that, fueled by the wild look in your eyes, satisfaction found within the fear of Shigaraki’s red irises.

Your magic wasn’t made for curses or hexes. But with your heart broken, the once golden light of your magic turned vengeful, bubbling and vicious. Even as the smoke rose, your voice boomed across the village.

“May your days be numbered!” the crowd gasped, your voice multiplied, as if thousands were speaking at once, your eyes roaming across all of those who had cheered for you and your parents demise, of all those who died before you.

“May your last passing hours be filled with my ghostly visage, as all your loved ones choke on my ashes they thought long swept away! May you die in fear, knowing your bloodline will end with your hatred!” 

The smoke from your pyre weaved around the guilty villagers, more thickly located around Shigaraki and his group. Your vision was turning spotty, but you didn’t care, you weren’t done. If you had to die, you were going out on your own terms.

“To those of you who survive, may you always see my shadow at the end of your beds as you sleep! May your Children curse your name! For your evil, your wickedness! For your Injustice!”

The storm raged on, even as you choked your last breath, your vision turning dark.

I’ll be with you soon my love…

.X.

.X.

.X.

.X.

You blinked, your eyes wet with unshed tears as you glanced around the room, your friends, Ochaco, Iida, and Todoroki were all behind you, looking at you with wide eyes. Next to you sat your boyfriend of two years, now in your third year at UA. His eyes were also wet, slowly turning to gaze towards you.

You had all decided to go to the fair that had opened up. Towards the end of your merriment, you spotted a fortune teller of a sort, and decided to go inside. Everything had been fairly light hearted and fun, until the two of you sat down for your turn. The fortune teller was shocked, the past had something important for you to see, and by all that was good you were going to see it.

You looked down at the promise ring Izuku bought you. It burned with the same cool sensation as you remembered…saw past you. It felt like…a small part of you had been unlocked, as if some part of you had been missing for all of these years.

“We found each other after all”

He gave you a gentle smile, one you returned.

Vacation on Isle Esme

Word Count: 6,926 Demetri x OC Part 6. Warning: Fluff, Angst, NSFW Choking kink. Please listen to the music clips.

The following morning Demetri took Renee to Marcus’ private study having tracked him there “Morning master I have Renee with me, she’d like to talk to you” Demetri greeted him “Morning Demetri, please show her in” Marcus replies. Renee entered the study and thanks Demetri for escorting her there. “Good morning amore. Did you sleep well?” Marcus asked and Renee nodded “Come, sit with me” He held out his hand to Renee; she placed her warm hand in his cold one and let him lead her to the sofa. “Have you thought about what we spoke about last night?” He asked still holding her hand in his “I have thought about it. I even spoke to Ally and Demetri about it as they are in the same situation as us” Marcus nodded but said nothing “After weighing up what I would be giving up versus what I would be gaining…I want you to know that I do accept you as my mate and I will spend an eternity by your side. However, I do wish to remain human a little longer, get used to living here before you turn me” Renee says taking Marcus’ other hand in hers “Renee mi amore, I am so pleased that you accept me as I accept you. I happily grant your request to remain human a little longer” He bought her hands to his lips “Ally will be pleased as it means you’ll have each other for eternity too” He replies smiling and takes Renee into his arms, pleased to have someone to love again and someone to love him in return.

Demetri, Ally and Jane are in Demetri and Ally’s room talking about the wedding when Alec and Felix arrive “Hey Jane I’ve been reading up on wedding customs ahead of the wedding and did you know it’s tradition for the Best Man to hook up with a Bridesmaid?” Felix asks smirking; Alec shakes his head laughing “Not going to happen” “Really Felix?” Janes asks eyebrow raised “Don’t believe me ask Ally” He replies; all eyes now on Ally “Technically yes it’s true. I mean the Best Man tends to try and hook up with one of the Bridal party during / after the wedding” “Well Shit Ally! Thanks” Jane replies “Sorry I was just being honest. You don’t have to get with him” Ally says “No she does! Its tradition” Felix adds smiling; Jane shakes her head “Desperate” Demetri coughs; Alec laughs “I’m so looking forward to your wedding, just to see if Felix fails or not” “It would be funny if he fails” Demetri says laughing “Really D?” Felix replies.

Esme and Carlisle come out to Volterra for the wedding, the others refusing to come. They arrive a week before the wedding and use the trip as a romantic city break. “It’s nice to visit Italy again Carlisle” Esme says smiling “Yes it is, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been in the castle though” He replied as they got settled in one of the guest rooms. “Hi. Only us” Alice says entering Carlisle and Esme’s room “Hello Alice, Jasper” Carlisle and Esme greet their children. “How’s the planning coming along?” Esme asks “Great, obviously” Alice replies smiling “I put it down to the fact Demetri isn’t even trying to rein her in” Jasper adds; Carlisle laughs as Alice pokes her tongue out at Jasper “As far as he’s concerned it’s only the best for his girl and Alice’s vision is to be followed without question” He finishes “I know someone else who indulges Alice” Esme smiles at Jasper “I know, but I do try and rein her in now and again” He replies looking at Alice lovingly.

Carlisle, Esme, Alice and Jasper met Demetri and Ally in the south facing garden “Here this is an early wedding present” Esme said handing Ally an envelope, who gasps upon removing the contents “Tickets to Rio? Keys to…” “You’ll be honeymooning on Isle Esme” Esme interrupted “It’s seems only fitting as it’s where you met” Ally throws her arms around Esme “Thank you so much. Its-it’s perfect” “Thank you Carlisle it’s very generous of you” Demetri says shaking Carlisle’s hand. “You’re welcome” Carlisle replies.

That night Aro calls everyone into the throne room “Thank you all for coming, Firstly I want to welcome our guests who have come out to celebrate the wedding of our dear Demetri and Ally. Secondly, Marcus has an announcement to make. Brother” Aro says stepping aside. Marcus stands and walks towards the edge of the steps “Yes, thank you for coming; I do indeed have some happy news to share. I have been very lucky recently I had the pleasure of meeting a beautiful lady; this lady is in fact my second chance at love, at a happy ending. I would like to introduce you all to my mate Renee; Ally’s mom” He turns slightly holding out his hand to her; Renee steps forward placing her hand in his “Renee is human like Ally and will remain so a little longer whilst she gets used to her new home. She is to be treated with the upmost respect” Marcus adds looking down at his mate lovingly. “Yes” Ally says low hugging Demetri “Someone’s happy then” He smiles. “Of course. They both deserve a happy ending and I’m glad they have each other” She replies.

December 3rd – Demetri and Ally’s wedding day

Demetri got ready in Felix’s room with Alec and Jasper, all four wearing black suits, with white shirts, a black waistcoat with a royal blue paisley pattern and matching tie and black shoes. “How are you feeling Demetri?” Jasper asks “I’m ok, a little nervous to be honest” Demetri replies “Why are you nervous? You worried she’ll leave you at the alter” Felix jokes; Demetri growls at him “I’m nervous Fe because I’m getting married in a few hours and that marks the start of a new chapter in my life. I’m over 1000 years old; I’ve done and seen many things over the years but this is something I never thought I’d do” Jasper, Felix and Alec just nod; Demetri sits down on the sofa “I’m also nervous because I don’t know how to be a husband...” “You’ll be a great husband to Ally. I mean you figured out how to be her mate/boyfriend and the two of you are also friends as you built that foundation first. Ally and you will work this marriage thing out together” Alec says placing a hand on Demetri’s shoulder “Ally loves you more than anything, remember that D” Felix adds. “I know that and I love her too but it doesn’t stop me being nervous” “Imagine how I felt Demetri, Alice had seen us meeting, us being with the Cullens and our wedding all before I met her. That was a lot to live up to, so you can imagine how nervous I was” Jasper said sitting down beside Demetri “You’ll be fine. I promise. We’re here for you” He added.

Meanwhile Ally woke up in her room beside Jane as she had come to light the fire early as it was snowing outside and decided to stay and keep Ally company “Morning sweetie” “Morning Jane” Ally replies sleepily “I’m going to run you a bath so you can relax before all the chaos starts” “Sounds like a plan, thank you” Once Ally was finished in the bathroom she sat on her bed in a robe waiting for Alice and Gianna to join her and Jane.  The Bridesmaids were dressed in royal blue dresses with a silver diamanté belt; the top half of the dress had royal blue embroidery on it, paired with silver high heeled sandals. Chelsea came by and braided fish plaits into the Bridesmaid’s hair. Chelsea also curled Ally’s hair and secured her tiara in place. “I’ll see you all soon” Chelsea smiled and made her way to the ballroom.

The Ballroom was divided into two; one half was set up for the ceremony, the other for the reception. There was a cream carpet laid on the floor to create an aisle with rows of chairs either side; each chair was covered in a cream cover with a royal blue bow tied around each one.

In the reception part of the ballroom the tables were decorated with white table cloths with fish bowl centrepieces filled with clear pebbles, blue and white Roses, silver Lillies and fake silver Butterflies.

There were two long tables at the side of the room; the wedding cake and guest book were on display along with cards and gifts for the couple. There were jugs of blood for the vampires and a three course meal prepared for Ally, Renee and Gianna.

Demetri was waiting at the alter with Felix by his side; Alec and Jasper standing slightly behind them, Aro was waiting at the alter smiling looking around the room “Not long now my dear boy” He said low to Demetri. Marcus, Caius and the wives were in the front row on the “Groom’s” side with Esme and Renee in the front row on the “Bride’s” side. The other guards and guests spread out over both sides of the aisle.

The Ballroom doors opened; everyone stood up and saw Gianna waiting for her cue; Aro nodded and Gianna walked down the aisle first followed by Jane then Alice. “Deep breath Ally. I’ve got you” Carlisle said taking her arm “Thank you Carlisle” Alyssa came into view with Carlisle by her side; Demetri was speechless the moment he saw her. She took his undead breath away; the biggest smile adorned his face as Demetri’s eyes stayed on Ally as she made her way down the aisle. Ally wore a white dress with a sweetheart neck line; the full applique lace bodice was complimented by the white applique lace cascading down the layered skirt, a silver tiara in her hair decorated with pearls and diamond shaped flowers. Her white shoes covered by her dress. Once they reached Demetri, Carlisle placed Ally’s right hand in Demetri’s left hand and took a seat beside Esme; Ally handed Alice her blue and white bouquet. “You look so beautiful amore” Demetri said low and placed a kiss to her temple; she blushed “You look very handsome Demi”

“Welcome dear ones” Aro began “We are here today to witness the union between this vampire and this human” Caius rolled his eyes “Really?” He mouthed to Aro; who ignored him. “With the exchange of rings and their own personal vows two souls are being joined as one. Demetri if you will, please turn and face Alyssa and read her your vows”

“I Demetri Volturi take you Alyssa Swan to be my best friend, my mate, my lover and my wife forever. I promise to support and encourage you in achieving your dreams. All I have in this world I give to you; I promise to comfort and protect you, love you and honour you for all of eternity.” He raised her hand to his lips placing a kiss to the backs of her fingers. “I love you”

“Alyssa, your turn my dear” Ally could feel tears building behind her eyes.

“I Alyssa Swan take you Demetri Volturi to be my best friend, my mate, my lover and my husband forever. I promise to encourage and inspire you, to laugh with you, and comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle. I promise to love you in good times and in bad. I promise to honour and cherish you, and keep you safe always. I love you”

“Now the giving and receiving of rings” Aro says motioning to Felix to pass the rings to Demetri and Ally.

“Ally I give you this ring as a token of my never-ending love for you” He places her wedding ring onto her finger.

“Demi I give you this ring as a token of my never-ending love for you” She places his wedding ring onto his finger.

“I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may kiss your beautiful Bride Demetri”

Demetri takes her into his arms and kisses her; pulling away and resting his forehead to hers “I love you Ally” “I love you too Demi”

“It gives great pleasure to introduce you all to Mr and Mrs Demetri Volturi” Aro announces and everyone stands up; clapping and multiple “Congratulations” can be heard.

Demetri takes Ally’s hand in his and they walk up the aisle; him leading her out to the south facing garden that was covered in snow for wedding photos.

“Photos really?” She asks excitedly “Yes, Ally. This is Matthew; he was a photographer in his human life and we crossed paths a few years back about a year after his transformation. I called and asked him to take photos of today” Demetri answered “I’m going to put together an album for you too. May I offer you my congratulations” Matthew said shaking Demetri’s hand “Thank you Matthew” Ally says smiling “You really are the best Dem” She gives him a lingering kiss to his cheek; they hear the click of the camera “I’m sorry but that was a soft candid moment that needed to be captured” Matthew told them. Matthew took photos of Demetri and Ally alone; Demetri and Ally with the Bridal party, Demetri and Ally with Marcus and Renee. He also took a photo of Demetri and Ally with the three kings and their three mates at Aro’s request. Matthew took photos of the other guests too throughout the afternoon; ensuring to capture Demetri and Ally’s first dance and the cutting of the wedding cake.  

Demetri stood and clinked his glass getting the room’s attention “Firstly, I want to thank you all for coming and sharing today with Ally and I. Secondly I want to thank Renee and Charlie, though sadly he couldn’t be here today, for bringing such an amazing and beautiful person into the world. I promise to love and protect her forever” He looked down at Ally smiling before continuing “Lastly, thank you to Carlisle and Esme for introducing us. I had been on my own for a very long time and had almost given up on finding my mate, my other half until Ally walked into my life and into my heart. I remember the first time I saw you; the first time I looked into those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes of yours and everything changed for me. I started imaging the possibilities; imagining a future with you by my side and it took me only a week to realise that I couldn’t live without you; I didn’t want to live without you. You accepted me not only for who I am but for what I am and I’m eternally thankful for that and I cannot begin to tell you how happy I was when you agreed to be mine and asked me to be yours in return. You were born to be with me as I was created to be with you and you have made me more human, a better man even and I cannot thank you enough for that. I love you more than I ever thought possible and I’m looking forward to spending an eternity with you mi amore. Please raise your glasses in a toast to my stunning Bride. Ally” “Ally” The room cheers raising their glasses.

Demetri led Ally onto the dance floor for their first dance holding her in his arms singing quietly in her ear

“Look into my eyes You will see What you mean to me Search your heart Search your soul And when you find me there You'll search no more

Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for You know it's true Everything I do I do it for you

Look into your heart You will find There's nothin' there to hide Take me as I am Take my life I would give it all I would sacrifice

Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for I can't help it, there's nothin' I want more You know it's true Everything I do I do it for you”

Once Demetri and Ally had their first dance everybody joined them on the dance floor Jane approached Felix “Would you like to dance?” “Really? Sure you can reach?” “Don’t make me regret asking you” She replied taking his hand in hers and making their way to the dance floor. Ally noticed them dancing and whispered in Demetri’s ear “See Demi, I told you there’s something between them” He cast a glance in their direction and couldn’t help smiling at the sight “We’ll see Ally, we’ll see.”

Caius, Aro and Marcus each took a turn in dancing with Ally; Demetri dancing with their mates in return. Carlisle having given Ally away danced the father/daughter dance with her; Renee feeling a little angry that Charlie didn’t step up for Ally when she needed him, especially as she won’t get to see him again. “It’s his loss Renee, Ally is a great girl, a real credit to you” Marcus whispered into her ear holding her in his arms watching Carlisle and Ally dance. 

Alec had asked Gianna to accompany him to the wedding as they were both in the bridal party and he knew that it would make her happy. He may or may not have noticed how her heartbeat speeds up a little when he’s near her. Holding her close during the slow songs he found it amusing how her heartbeat would spike slightly. He decided to have a little fun with her at the end of the last dance; smiling to himself as he dipped her low, holding her leg to his side as he did so “Ah Alec” She breathed surprised by his actions. He raised her back up and placed a kiss to her cheek “Good night Gianna” Gianna blushed “Good night Alec” “That was…nice of you Alec” Demetri said as Alec passed him and Ally on the dance floor.

Felix walks Jane back to her room at the end of the night hand in hand stopping when they reach Jane’s door. Felix leans down and kisses her gently; after a few seconds he pulls away slightly “That wasn’t…entirely unpleasant” She says quietly; he leans back down and kisses her again one hand resting on her cheek, the other on the small of her back holding her to him “There are other things we can do that aren’t entirely unpleasant” He says low in her ear as his hand moves from her back to hold her hand in his; she opens her door stepping backwards inside taking him with her “Show me” She purrs; he smiles closing and locking the door behind him.

He pulls her into his arms and lifts her up; her legs wrapping around his waist as she kisses him. He lays her down on her bed breaking the kiss “I can make you feel good little one” He purrs into the ear before placing a kiss below it working his way down her neck and back up again “Mmm…” He sits up on his knees bringing her with him; he unzips her dress before his hands work their way upwards taking her dress with them, leaving her in her lace bra and panties. He laid her down and removed his jacket, shirt and trousers; before leaning down and placing open mouthed kisses along her neck working his way down her body; sucking gently on her lace covered clit “Ahh” Jane’s breath catching in her throat; Felix looked up her “May I?” She nodded and he removed her panties; parting her legs slightly he settled himself between them licking upwards from her centre to her clit before gently sucking on the bud of nerves, flicking it with his tongue. Jane’s breathless moans let him know she was enjoying herself; he parted her lips and slipped his tongue inside her hitting her sweet spot; a breathless sigh escaping her lips, he withdrew his tongue slipping a finger in whilst sucking hard on her clit “Oh…Felix…Yes” She cries out hands grabbing the sheets, she feels his low growl vibrate against her core. He continues to lick and suck her clit adding a second finger; curling them inside her bringing her closer to her release, he feels her small fingers card through his hair, before settling at the back of his head holding him where she needs him most. His fingers continuing to move in and out her; tongue swirling around her sensitive nub “I’m so…cl-close” “Cum for me little one” His pace speeding up and becoming a bit rough as he pulls her over the edge; “Oh Felix!” She cries as she comes undone beneath him, tumbling into a blissful darkness, her toes curling and hands gripping her bedsheets “You did so well little one” He purrs in her ear before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

“My turn” She purrs in his ear; he rolls onto his back taking her with him. Jane takes his lower lip between her teeth and he growls hands grabbing her ass. She pulls away kissing her way down his cold hard abs admiring the god like view beneath her. She rips his boxers away freeing him and is amazed at the sight before her for Felix’s cold hard dick is long and thick “See something you like?” He asks smirking; nodding in response she wraps her lips around him taking him all the way until she feels him in the back of her throat. She heard him growl and looked up to see his eyes were closed, lips slightly parted, ‘Pain’ she thought and Felix felt a slight pain course through him as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked him hard “Ahh…Jane” He cried out then feeling the pain disappear as she smiled around him licking him from base to tip her tongue circling his tip; she hollowed her cheeks again taking in all of him “Oh...God…” His eyes open black and full of lust catching her looking up at him; her red eyes dark and doe like, she gives him a wink and grazes her teeth over his entire length before deep throating him “Oh…little one…just…like…that” He purrs fingers grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging gently. She pulls away looking up at him and whispers “Pain” He shudders at the mixture of pleasure and pain as her lips close back around him; her sucking him as though he was the best thing she’s ever tasted; she feels him empty himself down the back of her throat and she swallows everything he gives her. “Seems like you’re not the little terror everyone says you are” He says breathlessly and smiles at her “Shut up” She replies softly taking her bottom lip between her teeth, looking up at him through her lashes “Let me hold you” He says bringing her up into his arms “Thank you little one” He places a kiss to her temple “Thank you Felix” She snuggles into him enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

Meanwhile Santiago drove Demetri and Ally to the private air strip near the castle and carried out the pre-flight checks as he was also their pilot for the flight. Demetri carried his and Ally’s cases onto the plane and took a seat next to her; holding her close “You look lovely tonight cara” Ally had changed into a light blue fitted knee length dress for the flight; Demetri changed into blue jeans and a grey shirt. Once she fell asleep he gently lifted her into his lap and held her whilst she slept. “How’s Ally doing?” Santiago asked coming to check on the newly-weds “Good. She’s asleep, which I’m pleased about as it’s a night flight” Demetri replied low Santiago nodded in response.

It was the first day of their honeymoon and Ally and Demetri play hide and seek to test out Ally’s ability to drop her shield. “Let’s test out that shield dropping ability of yours, shall we…Mrs Volturi?” He leans down kissing her. “Ok Mr Volturi, but don’t be upset if this doesn’t work first time round. Dropping my shield is something I’ve only been able to do recently. I was curious to see if it was possible so I’ve been practicing” She explains to Demetri “I understand. Just be careful. I love you” He rests his forehead to hers “I will. I love you too” She replied; she gave him a kiss then ran off to hide “I’ll give you 10 minutes” He called after her. Once she found her hiding place Ally closed her eyes concentrating and thinking about Demetri and how she needs him to find her. Demetri took a deep breath closing his eyes and reached out trying to pick up Ally’s tenor; nothing, he couldn’t sense her and was beginning to get a little frustrated when all of a sudden something changed. He could sense someone’s tenor, faint as it was but it was there “Ally” He breathed out relaxing a little; he concentrated ensuring to commit her tenor, her essence to memory. Smiling he took off finding her with ease “Found you mi amore” He smiled down at her “I was worried it didn’t work” She replied getting up “It didn’t at first but when your shield finally dropped I was able to pick up your tenor, your essence, which allowed me to find you and that is what matters. I have committed your essence to my memory too” He kissed her holding her close “We’ve got forever to develop this part of your gift. Although, I don’t want you dropping your shield for anyone but me Ally. I like knowing that you can protect yourself from psychic gifts understand?” “I understand Demi, you only want me to drop my shield when I need or want you to find me” She smiled looking up at him through her lashes “Exactly” He replied smiling.

After spending a day together on the beach Demetri and Ally decide to take a shower together; he starts washing her, massaging her breasts letting one hand move lower thumb circling her clit as he places open mouthed kisses on her neck. Her head falls back on his shoulder her eyes closed as she feels him slip a finger inside her; he moves his finger in and out of her a few times before adding a second “Make love to me Demi, please” Demetri nodded removing his fingers from her and shutting the shower off. He lifted Ally into his arms wrapping her legs around his waist and carried her to the bed laying her down gently. He looked into her eyes “Are you sure cara?” “Yes. I want you, I need you” She unwrapped her legs from around him; sliding her hand down between them and stroking his hard penis her thumb brushing over the tip; his eyes closing at her warm touch, he adjusts himself between her legs and taking his erection in his hand gently guides himself inside her. He stilled allowing her to adjust to his size when he heard an almost inaudible gasp before continuing to slide in until he was fully inside her, stilling again for a moment placing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re so tight baby” He kissed her nipping at her bottom lip asking for entrance; which she happily gave him, their tongues moving against each other in sync.

Ally felt him pull out slightly before slowly re-entering her; filling her deeply “Ahh” She breathed out eyes closing; her hands moving up his back, nails gently scratching his skin and leaving kisses on his shoulders working her way up his neck to leave a kiss below his ear before gently biting his earlobe. He growled and thrusted back inside her hard; one hand moving up her leg to hold it in place at his side, this new position allowing him to get deeper inside her with every thrust. His dipped his head down and took a nipple into his mouth sucking gently, flicking it with his tongue. His cold breath against her warm flesh sent sparks coursing through her and she could feel a knot forming in her abdomen. His other hand moved up her side to take hold of her other breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger; he felt her wrap her legs around him “Demi” She cried out. He quickened his pace feeling his orgasm building and sensing hers was close too, filling her deeper with each and every thrust “Ally” He growled low, lifting his head to kiss her slipping his tongue inside her mouth; Ally sighed into the kiss. He dipped his head back down kissing her breast; his teeth grazing over the sensitive bud. Ally felt the knot break, pleasure washing over her like a tidal wave, her back arching off the bed; snaking his arm underneath her he held her close, his thrusts slowing as he rode out his own orgasm with her “I love you Demi” “I love you too Ally” He rested his forehead against hers.

He continued to hold her in his arms as her breathing returned to normal, “That was amazing” She whispered before kissing him, love and devotion clear in her eyes, “You were amazing” He replied kissing her. Still inside her he sat up on his knees bringing her with him; holding her to his chest, legs still wrapped around him he placed open mouthed kisses to her neck “Don’t let go” He felt her nod as he got off the bed carrying her into the shower and turned it on. He climbed inside the shower and set her down in front of him, gently cleaning them both. She turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a passionate kiss “I love you” “I love you too Ally”

The following morning Ally had a shower and went to put on her shorts and a top when she noticed a few bruises forming on her body, Demetri came up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist and placed a kiss on her neck “I’m sorry about those, it seems I wasn’t as gentle as I thought” He sounded upset “No, Dem you were gentle, very gentle in fact. My first time was better than I ever thought it would be and that’s because it was with you” She said smiling as she turned in his arms and kissed him. “I’m happy I was your first cara and that I will be your last as you will be mine” He left a chaste kiss to her lips; she wrapped her arms around his waist her head against his chest.

A few days later Ally was sunbathing whilst Demetri went hunting; when he got back he laid down beside her in just his boxers “Hey baby” He kisses her “Hey Sparkles” She smiles and kisses him back; he leans over her stroking hair “Be nice cara” He smiles as his fingers trail up and down her side lightly tickling her. “I have a surprise for you” Ally said getting up; Demetri nodded “I’ll be here waiting for you” A few minutes later Ally walked back out on the beach wearing the sexy French Maid outfit she bought on a shopping trip with Alice. She sat on Demetri’s lap so she was straddling him. He opened his eyes and whistled “Damn! You so hot in that baby” He smiled; blushing, she took her bottom lip between her teeth “Thank you I’m glad you like it” “I like it very much” He ran his hands up her thighs and licked his lips; sitting up and wrapping his arms around her he whispered “I want you amore” He kissed her hair whilst inhaling her scent. He lifts himself up slightly and with one hand starts to shimmy out of his boxers; Ally swings her leg to the side so she’s sitting beside him and removes her lace panties; then swings her leg back over to straddle him again. Demetri’s hands trail up her body under the dress, taking both breasts into his hands massaging them gently; thumbs brushing her nipples lightly, a sigh falls from Ally’s lips involuntarily, head falling back as Demetri kisses the front of her neck, sucking her neck slightly before his teeth graze over her pulse point.

Ally rises up onto her knees; hands on Demetri’s shoulders and gently lowers herself onto his erect cock, his hands move to her hips as he begins to lift her off of him before lowering her back down over his hard length “I love you” She whispers; his hands trail up her sides taking the dress with them and throwing it aside he places his hands on her back holding her against him. He leans her back slightly; his head dipping down to kiss her breasts and taking a nipple into his mouth. Her breath catches in her throat “Oh…god” He switches breasts taking her nipple between his teeth; whilst he rolls her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She lifts herself off him almost completely before sinking back down on him hard “Fuck baby” He growls moving his hands to her hips stilling her for a moment and pulls out of her only to thrust up into her hard “Fuck Dem” She cries out as he hits a new spot inside her, a knot forming in her abdomen. As he pulls out and thrusts up into her she grinds down against him, her being filled deeply with every thrust, him hitting that new spot inside her over and over. He crashes his lips to hers; she bites his lower lip and he opens his mouth allowing her to deepen the kiss, tongues moving against each other. He’s chasing his own release as he can tell she’s getting close to hers “Bite me…please” She begged grinding against him; he lifted his head and gently moved hers to the side placing a kiss against her neck, before biting her and taking a few gulps of her blood before licking the wound shut with his venom. Ally felt the knot break the moment he bit her “Oh. Dem. Yes” She said between breaths, her head falling onto his shoulder. His release followed “Fuck Ally” She could feel him still moving inside her filling her with his seed. “Don’t stop baby” She whispered; she felt him nod then kiss her neck where he bit her just moments ago.

Still inside her he picked her up and carried her inside and over to the bed, lying her down resting his forehead to hers “You my darling are amazing” He kissed her lips “So are you babe.” He pulled out of her lifting one of her legs over his shoulder and slid back inside her with ease “Ahh, that feels so..” Another slow deep thrust “Good” She finished, he smiled into the next kiss. Demetri slowed his rhythm taking his time to make love to her despite her pleas for him to go faster. He wanted to take his time with her; to show her how much he loved her, how he worshipped her. Ally had one hand on his shoulder the other in his hair; tugging slightly “I’m so…close…please Demi” One of his hands reached down between them and he began flicking and pinching her clit “Oh, ahh…Dem” He loved hearing her reaction knowing he was the only one who could please her this way. She grinded down on his hand kissing his neck “Mine” He growled low in her ear, Ally’s orgasm washed over her; her toes curling, hands gripping the sheets as she came hard “Always” She replied breathlessly; her walls clamping down around him bringing him to his climax, he removed her leg from his shoulder and continued to move within her riding out their orgasms together. “Will it always be this good?” She asked once her breathing evened out. “Once you’re immortal, it’ll be better. I won’t need to be so gentle…not that I’d ever hurt you, it’s just …you’ll be less fragile” He replied “Less fragile but still yours” She said “Yes mi amore, you’ll always be mine as I’ll always be yours” He responded “Mine” She said smiling against his neck “Always Ally, always”

The following morning Ally woke up alone but could smell pancakes; walking to the kitchen she saw Demetri in his boxers cooking, she wrapped her arms him kissing his shoulder one hand moving lower slipping inside his boxers “Morning to you too mi amore” He smiled and removed the pan from the heat. She removed her hand from his boxers and stepped back allowing him to turn and face her; his red eyes looking her up and down taking in the sight of her wearing his shirt. He stalked towards her like she was prey; her stepping back towards the table and when close enough he pulled her into him; her hands resting on his chest, his hand ran up her thigh under the shirt “No panties” He purred “Figured it would save time this morning” She winked at him and went to walk away “No” He growled “I want you here, now” He turned her around and bent her over the table one hand closing gently around her neck “Remember tell me if you want me to stop” He said applying a little pressure; she nodded and with his other hand he guided himself inside her stilling for a moment before pulling out and re-entering her. Their moans filling the air; he applied a little more pressure to her neck as he thrusts sped up chasing his release sensing hers was near, he moved his other hand downwards to play with her clit. Her walls clenched around him and she let out another breathless moan, her eyes squeezing tightly shut, as the brightest lights flitted behind her eyelids. Demetri’s name fell like a sworn oath from her slightly parted lips, the sound of it urging him on further. Demetri let out a soft hiss of pleasure as his mate’s tight, warm heat embraced him, further proof that she was indeed made for him, and only for him. Any tension he might have felt in that moment simply disappeared like clouds in the wind. He let his head fall forward, burying his face in Ally’s shoulder, her name coming out in a muffled cry of ecstasy, as he gave her everything he had, every intimate little part of himself. In all his years of immortality, not once has a single fragile human made him feel as alive as he did in that moment, not like Ally did.

When Demetri and Ally weren’t making love; they spent their time playing chess and other games; reading aloud to one another and silently to themselves. Demetri would join Ally on the beach whenever she wanted to sunbathe making the most of the warm weather. They also went swimming by the waterfall as they did the first time they were on Isle Esme together.

Demetri was a little sceptical whenever Ally won a game especially a card game, wondering if she ‘cheating’ “Ally, mi amore, you’re not looking through my eyes to see what cards I have, are you?” He asked eyebrow raised; Ally placed a hand to her heart feigning offense “Would I ever do that?” “You have in the past with our friends” He gently reminded her “I’d never do that to you babe” She replies looking up at him through her lashes “You promise?” He asked as he began to slowly crawl towards her; his eyes darkening as he did so “I-I…” He licked his lips growling low “Behave” She began to move back a little; he growled again “Behave…Sparkles…” That was it, he pounced pinning her beneath him; teeth grazing her neck, fingers lightly tickling her sides her soft laughter filling the room. He loved the sound and continued his actions as she squirmed beneath him “You’ve been a naughty girl….” “Y-you c-can’t p-prove it” She replied still giggling “Oh, I think I can” He growled low in her ear as grinded against her “Dem” She breathed out just before she felt him gently bite her, swallowing a few mouthfuls of her blood before licking the wound shut “It should be a sin for you to taste so good mi amore” He whispered “Enjoy it whilst you can my love because once you change me my sinfully good blood will be no more” She whispered kissing his neck “Mmm…maybe I should keep you human a little longer then” He rolled his hips against her again capturing her lips in a kiss “I love you” “I love you too Dem”

Demetri arrives back at the house after hunting to find Ally passed out on the bathroom floor; he runs to her placing a hand on her shoulder “Ally” She doesn’t move; hand still in place he gently shakes her trying to wake her “Ally, cara, please wake up” His eyes filling with venom “Please wake up baby, please” He begs her softly; taking her into his arms holding her close. Just then his phone rings; Carlisle’s name flashing on the screen. “Demetri…Is Ally ok?” He asks “I-I don’t know. I-I can’t wake her”

His Rules, Her Touch

[the Mandalorian x f!reader]  Word Count: 5.9k (not sorry :’] ) Warnings: 18 + SMUT, sexual tension, language, oral sex (female receiving), slight cock warming (you’ll miss it if you blink), prostitution Summary: He didn’t fall in love but you caught his eye, elegantly spread across the surface of display. He knew right there and then, he had to have you. Author’s Note: This is my first Mando x reader story so I’m a little nervous. I’m planning on making this a series so this is like the introduction to it all so I apologize if it’s a little slow. I got inspiration to do this story from one of my favorite fanfics “Rough Day” by @no-droids and the amazing artwork done by @followwhereshegoes. You should go check them out if you haven’t but without further ado-  This is for my best friend and number one supporter, @xxbeebee8xx​, I love you <3 Your fingers trace the water’s surface, the aroma of bath salts fill your nose and gives you a sense of tranquility. You rest your head over the back of the bath with your eyes closed. The bustling and voices down below float their way through the floor and it made you hold your breath. You had been in the prostitution business since you were a girl, serving the rich people in the capital of Canto Bight. You had started out working in the stables with other children and taking care of the fathiers. Your sexual appeal had begun to show and you were brought up from shoveling shit to pleasing gamblers, war profiteers, and stuck up money spenders.  The life you had been forced into had eventually become numb to you and did everything you could to stay alive. Sleeping and resting during the day, serving drinks and letting men fuck you during the night. Even if the job wasn’t something you wanted to particularly do, the money payed well and you lived somewhat comfortably. That was enough for you. You open your eyes to the sound of a knock outside your door. Your name was muffled through the door and you knew that your alone time was up and you had to get ready. The water pours over the edge as you get up to wrap yourself in a towel and over to the divider to change into your outfit. The shimmering fabric barely covered your body but why argue when that was the whole point of being a prostitute in Canto Bight. Your hair fell into a messy braid down your tan, bare back. A grunt of slight discomfort comes from your lips when you adjust the golden bra top. “Why do they have to make these so uncomfortable?” you grumble under your breath before turning to walk out the door. The voices in the casino below was much louder and you carefully walk down the glass stairs. The loud music, smell of food being cooked, the screams and hollers of gamblers were all the usual to you. You saunter over to the bar and you give the bartender a nod. He grumbles before turning around to make your usual drink. It was the only way to get you through your long nights. You look around the casino and bar, many familiar customers sitting in their usual spots with women seated on their laps. Most of them were gamblers or pirates which to a degree paid a lot more than the rich bastards did. Your drink was handed to you and you take it over to your luring spot.  The drink was devoured quicker than you wished but you didn’t have time to be unavailable. It seemed to be a busy night so you had no time to waste. Laying out across the center piece of the roulette, eyes were drawn over to you as you arch your back to lure with your sexual appeal.

Your mouth was slightly hanging open with your fingers tangling with your braided hair. A certain figure caught you and was quick to move through the crowd. “Hello, gorgeous. Good to see you again.” he stands in front of you and lifts your chin up to face him with his cold fingers. You gasp from the blunt jerk of your head but whimper out softly. “Good evening, sir. I missed you.” you force the words out of your mouth and ignore the disgusting notion stirring in the pits of your stomach.  His black eyes take in your body and he licks his lips in pure lust. “Don’t worry, I’m here now.” he leans down to kiss your lips and you let him do it. - His eyes stare at you through the visor of his helmet. He was supposed to be watching the target but when he ambled over to you, his attention was no longer on him. Din’s arm rests on the table and he was bordering the edge of his seat as he wanted to go over there and take you all for himself. He had never seen a beauty such as you and he has been everywhere. You were like a crystal shimmering in the deepest, darkest caves of Dagobah. Love wasn’t something that was in the Mandalorian’s vocabulary and he tends to push anyone away that intends to get close to him. He already lost way too much to lose it again. But there was something about you that he couldn’t just let go.

On sudden impulse, Din rises from his seat and makes his way over to you and the bounty he was due to collect. The way his lips were attached to yours made his blood boil. The shouts of rage and cheers of gambling was ignored by Din as he doesn’t stop at nothing to get over to where you were. “Let her go,” his voice is low in warning. You suddenly pulled back from Darro and sit up to face the new stranger. A tight knot forms in your throat as you take in the Mandalorian and you couldn’t help but be excited by him. Being interrupted left Darro in displeasure and he turns to face Din with a hard glare. “What do you want, Mandalorian?” he ushers out the word rather harshly as he reaches out to grab your arm so you don’t rush away. “Can’t you see we were a little busy? Go find your own whore to fuck.” Din couldn’t help but feel extremely pissed off at how he was treating you and the other working women in the casino. “I said let her go, I won’t repeat myself for a third time.” his gloved hand was hovering over his blaster resting in its holster. Darro draws his eyes down to see that he was serious and he scoffs. “What? Are you going to kill me? Newsflash, it’s her job to please me. I’m not bothering her. If she wanted to be left alone she wouldn’t have chosen this job in the first place.” his grip tightens and he pulls you off the table and against him almost possessively. The Mandalorian’s jaw clenches underneath his helmet as he knew he couldn’t just shoot him without causing a panic in the casino. “Fine,” he decides and moves his hand off his blaster. “let’s play a game.” His deep, mysterious voice sent thrill down your spine as you look to Darro of what he was going to do. The pale man’s mouth closes as he snorts quietly in disbelief. “I hate to say it but you don’t look like much of a gambling man.” Din doesn’t move as he faces Darro with an intimidating stance. “Wanna bet?” Darro’s grip lets go and you move back and out of the way. The two men silently converse before going to sit down at one of the empty tables to play sabacc. “You sure you know what you’re doing, Mando?” Darro questions the armored man. Din doesn’t say anything as he settles himself down, waiting for the dealer to deals them their cards. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him the whole time they waited for the game to start. He was dressed from head to toe in beskar armor and couldn’t catch a single glimpse of skin. To you, it was extremely hot but you couldn’t say anything. You were always taught that you were to not demand but receive. The cards for sabacc were distributed out to Darro and Din and you were sitting behind Darro, with a curious eye.  You didn’t realize it but Din’s eyes were on you instead of his opponent. A clear of the throat brought him back to reality and facing Darro fully. “You ready to play, Mando?” “...Of course,” his voice was raspy through the modulator and he holds his cards up, Darro smirking in front of him. - The game lasts forever and you were growing bored. People were gathering up around the table with the two opponents facing each other off. A bunch of the working girls were gathered together in a tight circle and their attention was on the Mandalorian. You blow a raspberry as you sit back against the wall behind Darro. “You never said what was at stake, Mando.” Darro brings up as the dealer deals in more cards. “What exactly are the bets here?” Din’s hands rest on the table top as he waits for his cards. He was silent as he thinks, his gaze wandering to you in the background. “I let you go but you have to give me the girl.” Both you and Darro nearly choke on air. What did he want with you? What was so special that he placed you on the cards, assuming he wins. Darro’s eyebrows narrow at the Mandalorian before scoffing. “I don’t own her. You’ll have to bring it up with the owner and manager of the casino.” “If I win, give her to me and I will overlook the price on your head, Darro Kilis.” the Mandalorian’s voice was deep in warning as he leans over the table to get his point across with his blaster pressing against Darro’s knee underneath. Darro’s body stiffens and his fists clench together, clearly caught in the middle of a difficult situation. After a moment, he nods his head to agree. “Okay, fine. If you win, you get the girl and I walk free. What if I win?” Din takes a steady breath his blaster still pressed to Darro. “I let you walk away with your life. Unless you give me a reason to shoot you.” the safety on his blaster clicks off and Darro reaches down to grab the barrel of his blaster. “Okay, okay!” he panics. “ I understand and agree to your terms! Let’s just get this game over with.” You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly under your breath. Even your laugh was angelic. Din couldn’t tear his eyes away from you before looking to the cards in his hand. Din and Darro sit in silence from across each other as they hold their cards in hand. The people surrounding them curious on who was going to put down first. Darro’s knee bounces nervously under the table as he holds his cards tightly in hand. “I’m gonna call, straight staves.” he lays his cards down and looks to Din with a cocked eyebrow. “Sorry, Mando, must be embarrassing to lose like that. Looks like not every hero gets the girl after all.” he cackles deeply and you felt your heart drop down into your stomach. The Mandalorian looks at the cards laid out before him a sigh heard faintly through his modulator. “Good play but not good enough, I’m afraid.” Din lays his cards down. “Full sabacc.” Cheers and surprised shouts rose around the table and Darro’s sneer falls from his face. Din leans back in the chair, an all knowing smirk hidden under his helmet. “Shit!” Darro slams his hand down on the table and wiping his shame away with his hands. You couldn’t help but feel a victorious smile grow on your face as you watch your savior stand to his feet. He brushes on past Darro, stopping to place the credits down beside him before going over to you. You swallow thickly as he towers above you, seeing how much bigger than you he was. “Well played, Mando. I have no way of expressing how grateful I am that you won me my freedom.” you bow your head and shiver when you feel his fingers lift your chin. “You may be free but I am not leaving you here.” Din says gruffly as he stares down at you. “You’re coming back with me.” You stutter in slight surprise before he was dragging you through the casino and out the golden-rimmed doors. “Wait-” you didn’t know where he was taking you but you felt a bit of thrill and excitement of being taken off this god forsaken planet. - The ocean breeze of Cantonica left goosebumps on your bare arms and back, sending an alarming shudder through your body. “Kriff, it’s cold...” you mumble as you walk alongside the Mandalorian to what you guess is his ship.  He doesn’t say anything as he looks down to the side at you. His next action leaves you surprised. A sudden blanket of warmth wraps around your shoulders and you realize that he enclosed your body with his cape. “Oh, Mando, you didn’t have to but thank you.” you offer him a smile in which he says nothing in return. Typical. He opens the cargo bay door to his ship and stands to the side to let you go in first. The ship was quite impressive in your eyes. The was beginning to rust but you could see all the scratches and dents that apprises a foretold story of many battles. Once you were inside, Din trails in after you and closes the cargo bay door. “Change into something more appropriate. We’re taking off.” he informs you before climbing up to the cock pit. You were left alone in the cargo bay and you look at your surroundings. “So he’s a bounty hunter,” you take notice of his wall of blasters and weapons, reaching into to spectate it a little closer. You accidentally bump one of the daggers off and are quick to reach out for it before it hit the ground. “Don’t touch anything.” Din’s voice shouts down below to you and you blush in embarrassment. “Sorry,” you call back up to him before putting it back where it belonged. You continue to wander around a little, stopping to heed the fresher. A good washing might do you some good as you step inside to clean up. The water felt nice and released your tensed muscles from the night. The ship had lifted off and it had taken everything in your power to not trip and fall in the fresher. Your body was boxed around in the narrow, tight room and it was starting to vex you. One you were able to wash properly, you step out of the fresher only dressed in a towel. Mando hadn’t told you where any clean clothes were so you guessed you had to find them yourself. A closed door stands around the corner and you figure you could search in there. You press a button and the hatch opens to reveal... a little green creature? You step back in surprise, yelping when you trip over your own feet with your ass hitting the hard floor. Mando must’ve heard you because he’s racing down the ladder in a matter of seconds by your side. “What happened?” he looks to see the Child giggling happily from his cot. A sigh of relief is heard through his helmet and he looks back down to you. “Are you okay?” Din reaches a hand down to pull you up, looking away when he noticed you were only wrapped in a towel. “Uh, yes, sorry.” you apologize, blushing a deep red in embarrassment when you take a look at your state. Holding the towel tighter around you, you ask, “Is he...yours?” Din walks over to the Child and picks him up carefully before turning back to you. “He is my foundling. I am tasked to reunite him with one of his kind. There’s an extra pair of clothes there.” Din points to some spare clothing on his bedside. He walks past you and back towards the ladder that led up to the cockpit.  You watch him ascend back up to the cockpit, most likely leaving you to change in privacy. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest when your eyes land on his ass, noticing how it showed through his pants. With a shake of your head, you focus on the task at hand and go to get changed with the clothes Mando had pointed out to you. They were a bit big but they would have to do until you can go buy yourself something more your size.  Once dressed, you stepped out of the small hangar and tucking the shirt into the pants. “Kriff, these are ginormous on me.” you sigh before going to climb up the ladder to the cockpit. You could hear child laughter emitting from the main compartment of the ship and the door opens for you. Din hears you enter and turns his head slightly to you. “Sorry, clothing options are scarce. Once we hit Nevarro, I’ll buy you something.” he offers before turning back to piloting the ship. The way his hands were wrapped around the controls of the ship had you distracted. You could only imagine how those fingers felt wrapped around your throat...squeezing tightly... “Oh, no problem. Thank you.” you say, clearing your dirty mind and sitting down in an empty seat. For a short while, you both sit in complete silence but nothing about it was awkward, in fact, the air felt intimate. Din’s rigid shoulders had your eyes drawn to him as you wished nothing more than to feel how broad he was under all that armor.  “We’ll reach Nevarro by tomorrow,” Din’s voice interrupts your thoughts. “I suggest you get some rest.” You weren’t tired, you were far from it. You couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way his body stood tall and preserved only made you want him even more. “Cyar’ika,” your gaze snaps to his, afraid you missed him saying something when you were in your trance. “get some rest.” You swallow and nod your head, leaning back in the chair. “Okay, wake me up in case anything happens. Also, Mando...I really want to say thank you for...freeing me back on Canto Bight.” you say gratefully. Din was slightly surprised but it made his heart flutter in his chest. “...You’re welcome.” - A sudden jolt around you startles you awake and you look to the pilot seat. “Mando?” Din was sitting in his seat and pilots his way carefully through an asteroid belt field. “It’s alright, just some asteroids.” he reassures carefully, easily getting them out. You sigh in relief, rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes. “How long was I asleep for?” you ask, getting up and standing behind his seat. The ache for him was getting more and more louder and you didn’t know how much longer you could hide your desire for him anymore. You were a prostitute for crying out loud...well, ex-prostitute. Bringing pleasure for others and yourself had become part of your daily routine and you had to admit that it was weird to not be bent over every form of surface, demanded to submit. Your thighs rub together, greedily seeking friction when your hand comes into contact with Din’s cool beskar. You could feel him go rigid under your tough but he doesn’t pull away. “For maybe an hour or two.” he tells you, his voice sounding strained. You nod your head, your hands slipping further down his armored shoulder and to rest at his chest. “How much longer until we reach Nevarro?” you lean in and your lips hover close to the side of his helmet, your voice lowering an octave in desire.  His gloved hand reaches up to stop you from going any further. “What are you doing, cyar’ika?” his voice turns gruff and arduous, choosing to ignore your question.  “Just...thought I might repay you for saving me.” you told him simply as your other hand wraps around the leather chair to his lower stomach and lingering up by his belt.  Din inwardly groans, holding himself back from turning around and kissing you. “I don’t think that’s a smart idea. Once we get to Nevarro, we’re going our separate ways.” he didn’t know why he was saying those words to you. The only reason why he bothered to buy you off was so that he could have you all to himself but he didn’t want to hold you captive for his own selfish reasons. Your movements stop as you stare down at his shiny helmet. He didn’t move and you couldn’t see his expression, to know if he was serious or not. “Okay, I understand.” your hands glide back to your side and you turn to walk out of the cockpit. “Goodnight, Mando.” you knew if you were to stay up in the cockpit with the Mandalorian, it would be proven difficult to keep your hands to yourself. Before you could walk through the door, you hear the chair spin and heavy footsteps behind you. You go to turn around but rough hands hold you captive, pressing your body firmly to the cool steel and making your nipples hard through the thin fabric of the shirt. The helmet was hovering above you and you couldn’t see the pair of eyes through the dark visor.  “Did you need something?” you ask him silently, keeping in mind the Child sleeping right beside the two of you. There was a sly smirk growing on your face and you could feel how tense the Mandalorian was before you. Din’s grip is tight around your hips as no words were formed. He wanted to shut you up because your cocky attitude was really pissing him off with that all knowing glint in your eye. He wanted to wipe that smirk off your face when he fucked you hard into the ground, your body whining and broken underneath him. “Just so you know, I don’t fall in love with people. So you can’t expect anything more than this, cyar’ika.” The new nickname for you sends shiver down your spine and straight to your aching core. You really didn’t mind that if this were to happen, you both couldn’t fall in love with each other. “So he has rules.” You liked a challenge. “We’ll see, Mando. You haven’t had me yet.” A growl emits from Din’s helmet as he roughly shoves you up against the cockpit walls. A whimper escapes your lips from the blunt force of the cold wall to your back. “Go to my sleeping quarters. I’ll be down in a moment.” At Din’s words, he releases you and you make your way down the cargo bay hastily. The desire between your legs was getting more and more prominent so you open the hatch to the hangar quickly. Heavy footsteps are heard coming down the ladder and it strikes you eager to finally get what you’ve been desiring since you saw him. Din steps into the bunk, quickly removing his boots. You were sitting back on his cot, watching his every move while he crawls up above you. “Turn the lights off, cyar’ika.” he tells you and you raise a brow. “You can’t see me without my helmet on.” That’s right. He was a Mandalorian and it was part of their creed to not show their face to anyone. You reach behind you to turn the lights off in the small room and it turns pitch black. You can hear the removal of beskar, the noise ringing in your ears when it hits the floor. A gloved hand pulls you close but you were facing down when you felt something around your eyes. “I’m going to blindfold you,” his gruff voice echoes to her ears and you felt your arousal increase. You’ve never been blindfolded it before but you kind of liked it, it sent a certain thrill to the pits of your stomach. Once the blindfold was on, you start working on taking off your own clothing while Din works on his. The sound of oxygen release is loud in your ears and you figure that he had removed his helmet. You were left in your underwear and the cool air of the ship pokes at your skin like needles. Din’s heavy breathing was above you and you shudder at the thought of the face he was making above you, taking in your form. Feeling brave, your hand traces down his abdomen and stop at the elastic band of his boxers. Your breath hitches in your throat when you reach to cup his groin, the heavy and hot weight of his cock in your small hand. You could hear Din above you, strained groans release from his mouth and he grinds into your hand. His eagerness for friction makes you roll your hips.  You lay there underneath him for a little longer, neither you or him exchanging any words to each other. All you did was continue to pleasure him through his boxers. “Afraid for me to hear your raw voice, Mando?” the thought of him getting more vocal while you stroke his cock excited you. A low grunt answers for you and he grabs your wrist, stopping your movements completely. His hands roughly work on your bra, tossing it aside. Din starts working on pleasuring your pert nipples, making you gasp from the roughness. A low chuckle makes your heart drop to your dripping pussy as he takes a nipple in his mouth. He sucks on it while continuing to pleasure the other one. As much as you loved the attention to your breasts, you wanted all of it directed down to your throbbing cunt. It seems Din picked up on it because he stopped playing with your nipples and goes to pull your panties away. Din moves along your body, leaving trails of kisses along your stomach, stopping short of your panty line. You couldn’t see through the blindfold but you could feel Din’s hot breath on your pussy lips and it made the hair on your arm stand. Nothing happens and you were getting ansty underneath him. “Hey, I’m waiting. Why aren’t you touching me?” you huff impatiently as you reach down to touch him but his hand stops you.  “If you can’t be patient, then I won’t fuck you, cyar’ika.” his voice sounded completely different without the helmet and it made your cunt throb. Fuck. You swallow as you rely on your other senses to guide you. “Yes, Mando,” “Din,” he reminds you harshly, his hands moving to caress your thighs and memorizing how you feel to his touch. “you call me Din when I’m fucking you, cyar’ika. Unless there’s a reason not for you to call me by my real name...” The feeling of his bare skin on your thighs make your body arch, impatiently craving to feel his mouth in between your thighs where your aching cunt begs to be touched. “Y-yes, Din...” His lips meets yours in yearning and he lifts your hips up to rest on top of his shoulders. You gasp at the sudden change of position, his hot breath back on your cunt. You couldn’t see anything but the thrill was prodigious.  “D-Din...” you moan his name softly as his lips trail along the inner part of your thigh. His mustache tickles your skin and your hips grind up, seeking for the dissatisfaction to be taken care of.  His hands squeeze your hips, deciding to not tease you anymore and buries his tongue in your soaking cunt. Your head tilts to the side, moans of pure bliss egging Din to continue. He finds your clit and sucks down hard. You writhe in his grasp to almost get away from the over stimulation but his grip pulls you back into him roughly. “Easy, cyar’ika,” he groans as he takes one of his fingers and plays at the entrance of your pussy. You pant, your mouth clenches shut and wrap your fingers in his hair, tugging gently. The way he feels between your thighs only reminds you that he was still human underneath all that armor. “F-fuck, Din...” you whimper, gasping when a second finger was added, spreading you wide. “just...like that.”  Din holds back a moan at the feeling of your pussy walls squeezing his fingers. “Hear that, cyar’ika?” he pulls his fingers slowly back before plunging them back into you. It draws another whimper from you and it makes Din’s cock jolt in fever. “You’re so fucking wet for me...” You mewl when his fingertips rub that spot deep inside you that make your toes curl in exhilaration. “Y-yes...all for you.” A cry of desperation leaves your lips when Din stops pleasuring you with his fingers and goes to wriggle out of his boxers. He pulls you into his lap, his cock trapped in between your hot and sweaty bodies.  Din’s leaves open mouthed kisses to your chest before gradually moving up to kiss your neck. If you didn’t have the blindfold on, the ecstasy you were feeling would make you see stars. “D-Din...take me already...” Your needy whimper makes Din chuckle against your skin and it makes you grind into him in desperation. “Okay...hold onto me, cyar’ika...” he tells you and you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms tightly around his neck. The feeling of the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance sends a thrill of elation through your veins. You stutter at the feeling of Din stretching your walls. Once he was fully seated inside you, the both of you just sit still in complete bliss of how you felt against each other. Your nails scratch along Din’s bare back and he groans from the slight pain. Seeing you a complete, writhing mess in his lap has him wanting more. He wants to hear you scream his name...cry it out...tell the world how good his cock was deep inside of you. He couldn’t get enough of your touch, it was your touch that was stirring a wave of chaos inside of him. It was addicting and he wanted more of it.  “...cyar’ika-” Din moans, holding your hips down and starts thrusting up into your awaiting pussy. With every hard thrust, a grunt rumbles in his chest and he rests his forehead against your chest. You were taken back by surprise as the Mandalorian fucks you in urgency. You go completely cock dumb, your hips meeting Din’s thrusts to feel him against your sweet spot. Din chuckles, his teeth grazing your soft skin and leaving possessive bites all along your body. “What happened to you, cyar’ika? Have nothing to say now?” His teasing demeanor made you huff in slight annoyance but quickly dispersed as he speeds up his thrusting. The small bunk was filled with the sounds of your mixed breathing, squeaking of the cot, and resonating thrust of Din’s hips against yours. You could feel your orgasm edging closer and closer with every deep stroke. You couldn’t remember the last time a man made you cum. “...Din...I’m close-...” you swallow your words, trying to hold on for a little bit longer. Din groans, laying you down gently onto your back. He holds your ass to keep your legs in place around his waist. His body towers over you and he leans down to whisper in your ear. “...I’m going to make you cum so hard...you won’t be able to get out of bed in the morning without my help, cyar’ika...” Your breath hitches in your chest and your stomach lurches in excitement at his promise. “Fine...you better keep your word...” Din smirks as his hands carve out your sides, taking in your goddess-like form. “The first thing you should know about the Mandalorians, cyar’ika...” his sentence trails off as he pulls back a little before thrusting back into you roughly. “...we always keep our word...” The cot creaks underneath the unbearable weight of both of your bodies and the way Din was drive you into the thin mattress. “O-oh, fuck-” you curse, reaching behind you to hold onto the edge of the frame. Your body leaps when Din’s fingers tangle with yours. You couldn’t see his face but the feeling of his hot breath over your face was enough to tell you how much pleasure you were giving him.  “Cum for me, Din...” you whisper, leaning up a little to capture his lips with yours. He kisses you back but you could tell you caught him off guard because his body went rigid again. “...I want to feel you to cum for me...” A worn groan is muffled by your kiss as his thrusting became sloppy. “As you wish, cyar’ika,” his free hand works in between your close bodies and starts to rub and pinch your neglected clit. “only if you cum first...” You yelp in shock from the sensitivity and can already feel the dam start to shatter. “I...I’m gonna cum...Din...” you whimper out as he goes faster. It was like a tsunami washes over your body and you release on his cock. Your body falls into an abyss of complete ecstasy and you felt like you were floating in air from the mind shattering orgasm. Your cunt walls squeezing him tightly. Din groans before he feels himself following behind you. “O-oh, Maker, shit-!” you cry out, arching into his body and your muscles going into a spasm. With a few more thrusts, he pulls out and releases on your stomach and forces out a groan while trying to milk his cock with his hand. “...cyar’ika...” the word is ghosting on his lips. It took everything in his power to not stuff you full with his cum. The both of you were exhausted and the musky smell of sweat and sex fills your nose. Once he was able to catch his breath, Din goes to sit on the edge of the cot. His helmet was at his feet and he picks it up to set it beside him. No words exchanged between you two and you were slightly confused. You could only hope that it wasn’t a bad experience for him, it sure as hell wasn’t for you. “Here,” he tosses you something to clean yourself up with. “clean yourself up. I’m going to go wash up.” that’s all he says before he’s walking out of the bunk and to the fresher. You take this as a signal to remove your blindfold. You’re sitting up in the cot and see that he had given you his shirt to clean off the remains of your scandalous activity. A sigh rests on your tongue as you keep your disappointment down. You knew the rules and you should be grateful that he actually fucked you. Once you were cleaned up, you changed back into your clothes and watching yourself when he stood. At least Din kept his promise...you couldn’t feel your legs. You see the steam seeping through the door of the fresher room, telling you that he was still in the shower. You were hoping to say goodnight to him but you couldn’t wait around for him. Sleep was trying to bring you down so you decided to comply and lay down to sleep. Your body curls up tightly to warm up your body and your mind went hazy. All you could think about was him. After some time, Din exits the fresher, dressed from head to toe in his armor again. While in the fresher, he had time to recollect his thoughts. After having you, he had a hard time of thinking about anything else. He didn’t know what kind of power you held over him but he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. “Cyar’ika-” Din goes to say, opening the hatch to the bunk. You were fast asleep on his cot and he pauses. Even asleep, you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen...and that made you dangerous. He closes the door and turns to walk back up the cock pit. Your lingering touch on his skin burned him and he couldn’t get the thought out of his head of what your face would have looked like when he made you cum.  Kriff, what is she doing to me?

@mega-aulover  I made you a quick fic   Happy Birthday again 

Name of it ( thinks of one) Baby steps...

This is about Peeta becoming a father and his journey though fatherhood. Now I know how you recently lost your own father so this is another  somewhat honor thing for him as well. I hope you like it...   Hope you don’t cry to much But it is okay if you do I personally had a hard time not tearing up a bit writing this. 

Now it is a little rough but I made it quickly  it could use a bit of clean up... But I wanted to get this out for you 

She shows me the Positive test . She is pregnant I am going to be a father..  This is our first child together...I go and talk to her belly and say hello I am going to be your daddy.. She thinks I am crazy but allows me.  But she is just laughing at me… She tells me “well 9 months from now you will get to meet this child”… I laugh and say “ I can wait”. We Do make an appointment to make she she is pregnant and the baby is doing well. I am giddy as I leave  for work that day. I tell my coworkers and every customer.. I tell them “ My wife Is pregnant”.. they all look at me like I am crazy.

I keep thinking of how I will be a father. The doctor appointments go well. Katniss gets bad morning sickness. But I am there all the steps of the way she has crazy cravings If she wants I try to get or make some combos are weird but I don’t judge.. I read some parenting books in my spare time. Katniss says it’s a waste of time maybe it is but I want to be ready…  Being first time parents for the both of us we are excited.  Katniss’s belly is growing everyday.

Around 21 weeks we find out the gender of the baby.  Well its not until 22 weeks because Katniss’s sister Prim is throwing us a gender reveal party. Nothing big but small…  for our close friends and Family The day comes and of course I bake all the goodies for the party… My coworker makes the cake But Lets me decorate it I have no clue what colour will be inside… Katniss and I cut into the cake and the colour is pink… We are both so excited… we would have been happy with either boy or girl…But I know one thing my little girl will be spoiled she will have her way to get her way with me… How do I know that now Because this little girl will be like her mother and  she knows how to.

We set up her nursery lots of pink for her. It just happened that way. Katniss’s parents buy a lot of clothes for us.   Some were Katniss’s   old baby clothes… I paint some flowers on the wall…

One day we are just watching a show and suddenly Katniss moves off me and tells me the baby is kicking and asks if I want to feel… That is when it hit me for real it was like I was in a dreamland before… I say stumbling “ wow.. Uh... sh.. she  is really in there”… Kantiss looks at me like I said something stupid… and says “ Really Peeta Mellark, you with smooth words are now stumbling” I laugh and say “ I guess this baby left me speechless” I lean in and Kiss her and she tells me “ for someone so speechless you are saying a lot of words”...Before I can speak it is her who kisses me to stop my words…  

Katniss has a few contractions we go to the hospital and they tell us to go home because the baby is not ready yet…

I walk in after work and Katniss is standing in the kitchen with a puddle around her… she says “ I thought I was having a bad contraction and next thing I know my water broke, It  happened a minute ago”… I tell her “ we need to get you to the hospital”…. I walk right out of the door Katniss still standing at the door “ Am I coming to she asks”.. Right I say in my head and go and get her  and guide her towards the car “ Okay honey  don’t walk to fast”… Katniss looks at me “ You are treating me like I am about to burst”. Well the baby could come anytime so she just might…On the walk to the car that is about 2 feet away we have to stop a lot so Katniss can have a contraction and when it’s over we move on… She was literally in the doorway when one hit of the house… When we reach the car I open her door and buckle her in… she says “ Peeta do you have the baby bag” Crap I knew I forgot something. On our last appointment the hospital did help us figure out the car seat so that’s already in.. I walk back into the house and grab the baby bag and walk back to the car. When I get there she is having another contraction I ask her “ Have you been timing those”… She looks me dead in the eye and says “ No I am just winging it over here or course I have that was 2 minutes apart from the last one”…  I drive fast enough that Katniss is not telling me faster… we Arrive to the hospital and Katniss is in a room before we know it… Seeing her in pain is hard for me… All I can do is let her hold on to me..  The doctor comes in and says “ ready to have a baby” if Katniss’s glare could kill she says “ No I am just  here because I really like hospitals”… The doctor gives me a look and I just smirk. I want to tell him “ That is nothing buddy you should see her at home” But I keep quiet..  They check on the baby say everything looks good…  Katniss is in active labor…. When she feels it’s time she is holding onto my hand so tight it hurts but I let her… I support her though it. The delivery nurse says I see the head Katniss you are doing so well one more Push.. She is screaming out of pain this whole time and gives one more push… Then I see my daughter who is crying… They put her on Katniss  she is beautiful and perfect to me. I cut the cord and they take her to clean her up and make sure everything is okay… Then I hold her for the first time… She has my blue eyes and Katniss’s hair colour. She has my nose and Kantiss’s lips… I cannot stop looking at her… I am whiping tears away from my eyes I ask Katniss  “what do you want to name her?” she Answers “Everleigh. Her name is Everleigh” She looks at me and asks “ Do you have a middle name?”… I tell her “ Raine”… Katniss says “ Everleigh Raine I like it”.. Me still holding Everleigh I ask her “ Like your name”… I am wiping tears from my eyes I tell her “ I am your daddy”.. and I give her a kiss on the cheek…  Katniss and I spend a few hours with Everleigh before family and friends come to see her…   I am handing her to family members as they come and visit. I am surprised when My brothers and father comes and see her…  

A few days later we leave the hospital Katniss is healing well. We bring Everleigh back for appointments…  We go home and start our new life as parents… Katniss carries her into the nursery and sets her down in the crib….I walk over at her… Everleigh sleeps though the nights. Sometimes we wonder what we got out ourselfs into but say we wouldn’t change it.

Soon she is crawling Walking and Talking hitting all the milestones… Her baby teeth are coming in. Some nights she keeps us up and some she sleeps though. I remember her first steps Katniss brought her to work and we sat on the floor trying to get her to walk between us and she took her first step… and for the record her first word was dada as much as Katniss says no it was wasn’t.  she is growing way to fast Katniss tells me not to blink and I will miss it..

Next thing I know she is 5 years old. She now has a younger brother… Katniss and I bring Everleigh to school for her first day.. Her hair is in 2 braids and she wears a red plaid dress like I recall Katniss wearing on her first day of school… Ev is a little shy but she warms up pretty quick..  I am fighting back tears my baby girl is growing up too fast for my liking.. It seems like last week she was only taking her first steps

She is now 16 Where did time go. I Have 4 kids now. Everleigh is still my little girl she will forever be…  And same with my other daughter Oakley… My two sons Kaleb and Carson are very protective of their sisters.. all are growing up so fast..  Everleigh sure got her mothers attitude not always a good thing. But she gets good grades so do my other children  Katniss is right you blink and you  miss it. One day Ev comes home and tells us she is interest in a guy. My first instant is to get Katniss’s weapon… But I say when will we meet him… A few days later she brings this tall guy who doesn’t look like 16 he is a year older then her Ev told us. He looks at least 20…  He looks scared when I invite him in good I have done my job… Everleigh comes up to him and says Mom. Dad this is  Nathan Hawthorne… Katniss nearly chokes on her tea at the last name… she tries to cover “ Well that is wonderful honey”. Everleigh asks “Mom what is wrong”  I try to cover “ So who are your Parents Nathan”… Nathan answers “ Gale and  Madge”.. Kartniss lets out a sound Ev says “ Mom do you know him” I grin and  say “ Oh yes she knows him all to well”.. Katniss tells Ev “ Gale and I were friends never in a relationship we tried but then I met your father”…Everleigh  tell us “ That’s great then you guys know each other”… Everleigh asks her voice she knows I have a hard time to say no too “ Daddy can I date Nathan”… I look at Katniss and Nathan and Everleigh and say “ Yes you have my blessing but Nathan you hurt my little girl you will have me to answer too”…

They have been dating for a few months now… Everleigh comes home in tears… Katniss comforts her… I ask her what happened.  She tells us  Nathan cheated on her… I march out of the door and Katniss comes after me and says “ Where do you think your going”… I tell her words I never thought I would say “ To the Hawthornes ”… She says “ Well  you are not gonna stop me from coming are you”… I am shocked and say “ Guess not”… Katniss gets into the car as we drive to Gales and Madge’s house.. I knock on the door and Gale answers the door he says “ Heard our kids are dating” I tell him “ Not anymore”.. He said “ Oh, why don’t you come in”.. I go into their house and Katniss follows she says “ Hi Gale” and walks right past him and gives Madge a hug… we all sit  in the dinning room I explain everything. Madge says “ We had no idea we are so sorry about that” Gale asks “ are you sure its our Nathan we are talking about”.. Katniss says “ Unless there is another  Nathan Hawthorne”… Just then Nathan and another girl walk in… he said  “ Oh  no” when four pairs of eyes look at him…  Gale says “ Nathan where is Everleigh?”… Nathan says “ umm she broke up with me, This is Ashley”… I stand up but Katniss grabs my shoulders.  I get out “ Then why did  my daughter say you cheated on her”.. Ashley chimes in  “ Wait you told me that you guys broke up weeks ago” Nathan starts to sweat “ umm ummm”..  Ashley says “ now your speechless well guess what your single now”.. Katniss beside me is trying hard not to loose it… Ashley literally walks out and says “ Mr and Mrs Mellark I have to go apologize to Everleigh” Katniss says “ you know where she lives she might still be on the couch crying her eyes out”. After Ashley Leaves Gale turns to Nathan and says “ Nate I thought we raised you better then that”…Katniss says under her breath “ Runs in the family” then we leave and head home… When we arrive we  see Everleigh and Ashley talking… Laughing… well at least one good thing has come out of this day… Everleigh has a few heartbreaks and I realize I have to do this again…

A few short years later I am getting ready in a suit.. To Give Everleigh away…  She is now 23. Since she got engaged we reflected back on her life. I still have one more daughter to give away if she chooses to.. Her Husband to be is one awesome guy. He reminds me of myself. He showed me he would put her first.   His Name is Cody Mason.  His mother is Johanna. His father is not in the Picture but Johanna must of done something right. We have known Johanna for a while now… years. Cody is only 4 years older then her… They started dated in  college as My baby girl left to go study at District 7  college… She brought Cody home for one break and I instant knew this man who be my future son in law… The other children are growing up to fast as well as Oakley looks so grown up in that brides maid dress and My oldest son Carson is  going to go to school in the fall Kaleb  and Oakley I still have at home but I will blink and I will prepping for 3 more weddings before I know it. I knock on the door to see if she is ready.. And she looks at me and says. “ Yes I am, The real question is are you ready” With tears threatening to make an apprentice I say  “ never ready to let you go but I know this the right man for you”… Ev gives me a kiss on the cheek and whips away a tear that escaped me..  and gives me a big hug…  We walk down to the chapel the wedding will be in and I get in place and the doors open and I walk her down the aisle.. when I am asked who gives her away I say her mother and I… they give us hugs and I go and sit down and watch her get married… she is now A Mason… I get flashbacks… Everleigh and I share a father daughter dance that is when It hit me..  Katniss and I give a speech …

Before I know it I am In the Hospital room holding my first grandchild…

say that you’ll hold me forever

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In his more introspective moments, Alec would think that the reason night running came so easily to him, the reason he’d slipped into it like a pair of well broken in boots when it was so different from the simple life he’d been leading before, was because it was so like archery. When you got right down to it, both were about breathing steadily, keeping your eyes open, having patience and knowing when to let go. All things that had been his lifeblood since he could walk.

And because both came so easily to Alec, when something was amiss it was like having something stuck in his teeth. If the arrow he was using had warped or was made out of balance, he could sense it in a moment. If his string wasn’t oiled, he knew as soon as he drew it back. If a breeze no harder than a breath were blowing between him and his target, it may as well have been a gale for as much as it made the act feel impossible.

And if something was wrong with a night running job, Alec knew it. And tonight’s particular job felt like he was trying to shoot without an arrow.

It had seemed fine that morning, when he and Seregil had been taking breakfast in the living room at the Stag and Otter; Alec ruffling the ears of one of Ruthea’s last litter on his knee and his lover shuffling through their latest stack of messages for a cat of a very different kind while they ate.

There were a lot of them, some written on fine vellum, some scrawled hastily on notes that had since become crumpled as they’d passed from hand to hand to reach the elusive, far famed and entirely fictional burglar for hire known as the Rhíminee Cat. As Seregil was fond of saying, the nobles did all sorts of silly things in the spring and it was as fine a late spring morning as anyone had ever known. The window was open to a warm breeze and honey gold shafts of early sunlight, the bells of some temple were chiming in the distance and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen.

Alec barely looked up when Seregil cursed from across the table, he only hummed, “Did it again, hm?”

“It’s these damned nobles,” Seregil scowled, holding two notes and looking between them in exasperation, “They’re too used to getting their own way, it makes them such demanding customers. They want everything done this very night or immediately or bloody yesterday! No regard for a man’s schedule...”

“It’s not the nobles, love, it's the fact that you have no organisation system so you keep double booking yourself,” Alec said patiently, using the distraction to snag the last bit of bacon from Seregil’s plate to feed to the kitten on his lap.

“Well,” Seregil huffed, “Still. It’s inconvenient.”

“We’ll just split up tonight,” Alec shrugged as his little friend stole away with her prize, “You go and get Duke Amon’s ring back from whoever won it off him and I’ll take whichever job you thought was tomorrow but is actually tonight.”

Seregil folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, “I’m not that poorly organised…”

“This is the fourth time it’s happened this spring and let’s not forget the time you didn’t keep a close enough track on things and nearly placed a risque miniature of Baron Carmine in Lady Raya’s bedside table rather than the ring you were supposed to put there?”

Seregil was quiet for a long time, his mouth set in a pout until he grunted, “Fair.”

“So tell me about my job tonight,” Alec grinned, reaching over to play with one of the many curls of dark hair that stuck out from Seregil’s head after a night of tossing and turning. He knew that would chase away his lover’s chagrin.

Seregil hummed and inclined his head towards the warmth of Alec’s fingers, “So some twitterpated noble has got it into his head that he’s going to propose to his beau and that it absolutely, positively must happen tonight. He’s got some ridiculous grand gesture planned in his head, having the ring delivered to them silently in the dead of night so it’s there when they wake up. Surprised he’s not having a dove slip it onto their hand personally…”

Alec chuckled, “Perhaps it was short notice. It would take rather a long time to train a dove.”

Seregil smirked, “Anyway, the problem is he’s gone and left it in his apartments in the business end of the city by the docks, he’s a wealthy merchant of some degree, and he can’t go get it himself without arousing suspicion. So our job is to slip into his place, slip back out again and deliver it to his intended.”

“Too lazy more like,” Alec wrinkled his nose, “Fine, where is this girl who I’m hoping has more sense than her soon to be betrothed?”

Seregil shrugged, “Message only says that the address to deliver it to will be written on a label attached to the box. Probably didn’t want that kind of information floating around the city on a note being handed around some more disreputable characters.”

Alec snorted, “Bet you a gold sester her parents don’t know about this match. Why else be so secretive?”

Seregil raised his eyebrows and simpered exaggeratedly, “Perhaps it’s a heartbreaking tale of true love overcoming societal disapproval?”

“Or some fool making too much of a few friendly glances and thinking himself some heroic knight saving a girl who isn’t even interested,” Alec tugged on his lock of Seregil’s hair gently.

His lover shrugged, shaking him off and sitting back with his tea cup held in his hands, “Whatever it is, talí, he’s paying handsomely. Would you mind?”

“Sounds like the easiest job I’ve done in months. I’ll make sure supper’s on the table for when you get back.”

But that had been this morning and now Alec was perched on top of a very high wall surrounding the lavish building and he was having doubts.

Not about his route into the noble’s apartments, that was clear as day. The building itself was called an inn but it was as far removed from the alehouses and winesinks that could also boast that title as a carriage horse was from a mule. It was more like a miniature manor house, each one of it’s floors a luxury suite meant for the lesser nobles who had made their fortunes on the backs of the sailors and tradesmen that worked on the wharves the inn overlooked. This was the place they’d occupy on the nights of the working week, when business held their attention, but most would also have a place not unlike Wheel Street for their leisure time, where they kept their wives and children.

Alec could see precisely how he would vault from the wall he now crouched on, land on the lip of the roof, follow it a little ways around the shadowed inn and slip into the window of his mark, safely untouched by any lamplight from the main street. It couldn’t have been simpler. But still, uncertainty sat in his stomach like he’d eaten a heavy meal.

He hesitated, trying to summon the clarity of mind that usually accompanied his night running or at least a concrete reason why things felt so plainly wrong but he received no answer except a gentle lifting of the wind that stirred the hood he’d pulled up tight around his head and carefully tucked his braid into.

If I don’t move quickly, what’s going to be giving me doubts will be a bluecoat’s quarrel in my chest he thought with irritation at himself. He abandoned his misgivings on top of the wall and sprightly hopped up onto the roof, his well muffled slippers barely making a whisper as he landed and began the slow, careful walk along the slates.

As he crept along in the shadows, he had to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of such a clear night. Rhíminee never looked more beautiful than when it was observed from the top of some high place Alec wasn’t meant to be, when it was nestled in the purple shadows of twilight, all glittering lamps in winding streets and a hundred yellow eyes blinking as people set candles into their windows, either to go to bed or to welcome new patrons in the brothels and gambling houses of the Street of Lights. The palace and the Orëska House were like looming candles, their towers still a deep orange with the last of the setting sun, their expansive floors the deep purple of true night. There was a sense of the city settling down, heaving some kind of silent sigh as another day ended and a whole new Rhíminee awoke.

And somewhere in it’s shadowed depths, Seregil was about his own business, chasing down a family heirloom some arrogant lord had wagered on a hand at the Dragon.

“Luck in the shadows, talí,” Alec whispered to the twilight, feeling the tug of the bond they shared as the thought travelled along it’s thread to his love.

The latch on the window was tricky though he expected nothing less at such a fine establishment with so many wealthy clients. There was a lot to protect within its whitewashed walls, after all. Still, between his clever fingers and the pick he kept in his braid, it was barely a few minutes before Alec had it open and most of that was looking down for watchmen or dogs in the yard below.

The room was dark, the noble of course off with the love he hoped to make his wife. Alec wondered if he was nervous, holding her tight as she slept, both anxious for the dawn to arrive and rather afraid of it at the same time. He could only imagine how it must feel, to ask someone to share their entire life with you, to hand them a piece of your heart in the shape of a simple loop of metal and gemstone, without something as sure as a talímenios bond.

It made him a little jealous, if he was honest.

He dismissed the thought quickly, seeing no sense in wanting things he couldn’t have. The window opened, he swung himself inside, landing on the rich woven carpet so no one below would hear him. As soon as he righted himself, the feeling came back as strong as it had been outside, the sensation that something was amiss.

There was just a string sense of the place being...unlived in. Sure the trappings of a young, overly wealthy man were spread around the room- fine coats in a number of rich fabrics hung by the door, the walls lined with books and the fine art on the walls, the plush looking furniture and tasteful hangings- but it was as if a layer of dust hung over it all. Alec knew how to read the traces a person left in their home, how to track their daily routines in which chairs had the deepest depressions and which books were always slightly out of alignment based on how they sat on the shelf. And this place held none of that. It was as if the place were deliberately posed, like the set for some elaborate play, but never intended to be lived in.

Alec’s hand twitched for the knife concealed in his boot. He knew a trap when he saw one.

He made no movement for the window or any other escape route. He could handle himself, whatever was about to appear from whatever shadowy corner of this place, but Seregil would scold himself for weeks even with no way of knowing that of both of those notes in his hand, of all the hundreds of summons they received, this would be the one that turned out dangerous. Alec was already dreading the look on his face when he brought the news back to him.

He moved far more carefully now, stepping into the place, heading for the desk where he’d been told the ring box was kept. His feet didn’t catch a single creaking floorboard, no figure moved from any direction. All was silent.

Frowning, he double and even triple checked the locks on the drawers. No poisoned needles, no dart ready to spring, no trap to close around his fingers. It was just an ordinary piece of furniture with a painfully average lock he had open within seconds. And that only made his suspicions deepen.

Seregil had said nothing about who’d sent them the summons, there was no way to tell if this was some secret enemy after them in particular, someone who had a grudge against the shadowy Rhíminee Cat or if this was one piece of a much more elaborate game. All there was to do was find the ring box, see where it needed delivering and wait for the tension to resolve itself. Some hands you just needed to play, even if you knew they were rigged.

First drawer, empty. Second drawer, nothing but a few clumps of dust. The hair’s on the back of  Alec’s neck stood to attention, why weren’t there any ledgers or papers, nothing so much as a pen to prove that a living, breathing man actually worked at this desk?

The box was in the third drawer along, a long, oblong shaped wooden box with a metal clasp. Far too big for a ring box, Alec thought. This must be the crux of the trap, the spring wound tight and ready to pounce. He steadied his breathing and felt cautiously for any hidden blade, catch or wax plugged holes. Were they being used as assassins here? Was he supposed to deliver death to this poor woman’s bedside table?

All his search discovered was the promised label, fastened around the clasp. Frowning, Alec checked the paper for any poison dusting one last time before turning it over to read it. He didn’t think he’d be delivering this box tonight, not until he’d had Seregil and maybe even Thero check it over or it could mean death for whoever’s name was inscribed upon it-

Alec’s throat tightened. The name on the label was his own. Not even the name Rhíminee knew him by, his true name.

Alec í Amasa.

No address, just the name. And at a glance, Alec knew the hand that had written it.

Even when he’d been certain this whole affair was a trap, his heart had stayed beating it’s usual steady rhythm in his chest, his breathing had been silent and shallow. But now his heart was pounding in his chest and it was such an effort to keep his hands from shaking as he pulled back his hood and carefully opened the box.

There was a ring, a simple band of polished coppery coloured metal. Nothing flashy, nothing that would draw attention; a ring that could be worn on any number of night running jobs and never attract notice but he would always know it was there. But the ring had been threaded around the shaft of an arrow. Not an ordinary arrow, at a glance he knew this wasn’t made for shooting. This was beautifully carved, expertly wrought in polished wood so the shaft had been transformed into a gorgeous scene of an otter and a stag curling around one another as they raced in flight, surrounded by cunningly made flowers that he recognised in an instant. The exact same kind had grown around the cottage where he and Seregil had spent that winter together. The more he looked, the more he saw depths in the design; there were fingerling dragons as small as his littlest knuckle chasing each other around the span of it, there was a mountain range carved into it that reminded him so strongly of his earliest home, there were symbols inscribed all the way along in a clever pattern that spoke of a hundred places and a hundred adventures.

The arrow told a story. It told their story.

And burned into the base of it was a question, composed of two words. Marry me?

Alec didn’t jump when he heard the footsteps behind him and he didn’t turn immediately. First he tried to wipe the tears from his eyes but it was no good, new ones sprang to replace them. It helped that, when he finally did face his lover, Seregil had damp cheeks too. And that familiar, crooked smile he loved so much.

“I...I know it won’t mean anything, not legally,” he was standing in the doorway, dressed in the simple evening clothes Alec had left him in last, looking uncharacteristically nervous, “But...I don’t care. I want it for us, we’re the only ones who need to know. I was thinking...maybe a small ceremony at Watermead, just our friends, some rings, a few words...but I want to be able to call you my husband, Alec. Even if it’s just between us, even if I just get to look at you and think it then...it would be something.”

Alec exhaled, voice soft though it carried over the small space between them, “Seregil, it would be everything.”

Seregil laughed, more tears catching the dusk light outside the window, opening his arms. Alec needed no more invitation than that, flying into his embrace, holding him so tight he couldn’t ever imagine letting go. Whether they were crying or laughing or both, neither could really say, as they sank to the carpet still clasped together.

“You sneaky bastard!” Alec finally managed to get out, grinning against Seregil’s shoulder, “How do I keep falling for this?”

“Ah, talí, but I’m so glad you do,” Seregil murmured back, drawing away enough to kiss him.

The kiss would have lasted until they had no more breath to give, if there wasn’t something Seregil wanted to do even more. The arrow was held fast in Alec’s hand so he slipped the ring off the shaft and placed it gently on his lover’s finger, first kissing the spot where it would lie for the rest of their lives. Now Alec could see there was a twin of it on his own finger.

“I told you about when I was young, yes?” Seregil murmured, stroking his thumb across Alec’s knuckles, “How I would sit in my bedroom back in Aurënen and imagine the person who would be my talímenios, how I would dream of you before I even knew your face...even then, I couldn’t know how it would feel to love you so much. How much you would make me want to be a better man, how every morning simply waking up and seeing you sleeping next to me would make me feel so damn lucky. I didn’t know, Alec í Amasa, how happy I would be with you.”

Alec just shook his head, tears sparkling like diamonds of the most precious sort as they fell to their clasped hands, he didn’t have his lover’s skill with words. He just leaned in and kissed him again, murmuring every time they stopped for air, “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

But those were the only words Seregil needed to hear.

in every lifetime, fred x reader

request: from @fredweasleyismyking91: I just read your George soulmate au and I’m obsessed. I love soulmates so much and that one was amazing. I’d love to read a Fred soulmate if you were ever up for it!

prompt: soulmate au in which characters have specific phrases their soulmates will say to them written on their wrists like tattoos—they will now know they are soulmates until the first one speaks the phrase

A/N: literally losing my shit. thank you for this request and for your kind words. reader is american and i made this after the war bc i do not live in a universe where my poor freddie doesn’t survive—I JUST LOVE HIM, ALRIGHT? also, sorry this is insanely long but it’s worth the read, i hope?

You stared blankly at your wrist in the middle of a very crowded, very bustling Diagon Alley. London was not at all what you’d expected. You peered quickly at the words. Won’t cost you a dime.

You thought it was silly, at first, the words your soulmate will speak to you, tattooed on your body. It looked absolutely ridiculous. It looked like the absolute dumbest quote in the history of the world. You found it to be quite annoying, really. When your parents told you what it was, you nearly snorted. You were just a young child. It sounded like the silliest thing in the entire world to you.

But as you grew older and more curious, you searched Ilvermorny for a glimpse—maybe your soulmate was here? It’d make the most sense, of course, for him to be prancing around the American wizarding school somewhere, close by—you weren’t planning on leaving America after graduating, anyway. But there was no one—not a soul—who gave you that feeling of hope, that feeling of… that must be him.

Oh but your friends absolutely loved to play that game. Picking and choosing, glancing anxiously at the phrases on their wrists, peering admiringly at your schoolmates and deciding which ones they’d like to spend the rest of their lives with, how they’d finally find them, when it would happen—at least before the age of twenty four—well, that’s what your parents had said, anyway. Your friends’ phrases were, to your dismay, much more sophisticated and seemingly more exciting and well—a bit more special than yours. Won’t cost you a dime. Absolutely bogus.

This game they were playing was, of course, based mostly on looks and not at all on personalities, but rather just their dreams and what they so desperately wished their lifetime of love would look like. Plus, you were all still so young, all they wanted to do was have a little fun, didn’t they?

So they dated, even though these people hadn’t said the words they yearned for. No reality had seemed to set in yet. Not one of them had found their soulmate. You supposed, watching them, you could do the same thing. But what was the point in dating someone you knew wasn’t the person you’d spend your life with? You opted out. You just wanted to wait for him. He’d say the words when the time was right. It would all be worth it, wouldn’t it?

As the years went on, you did seem to mostly forget about the words on your body, fading lightly. In the bustle of your busy life, it wasn’t something you necessarily tried to focus on, like all of the others around you, searching faces in the crowd, desperately trying to find the ones. When it’s time, it’s time, you kept telling yourself. But the fear that you’d never actually find him did nestle itself in the back of your mind—you never, ever, ever let yourself touch that thought. Not even a little.

You were rapidly approaching the age of twenty two. You’d finished Ilvermorny, began your studying to eventually be able to teach there, and tried to not focus on what everyone else seemed to be so obsessed with.

And on your twenty second birthday, you were offered the position of a teacher—not at Ilvermorny, no, but at the wizarding school across the pond. Yes, you were moving to London.

It was terrifying and exciting and exhilarating at the same time.

And so you packed your things, said farewell to your parents, and ended up in a very tiny, one bedroom apartment in the middle of London, just a few streets down from Diagon Alley—the bustling street where all witches and wizards went for their school supplies—and you supposed, professors, too.

Well, you knew what you needed to do.

Which brings you to now.

Somebody bumped into you while running through the street. “Sorry, love,” they said, and were off in a flash, barely noticing the shift of your body on the middle of the cobblestone. And then, a flash of light, and a ton of rain.

Was London notorious for its rainy days? You didn’t know, this was your first time here, of course. And where on earth was your umbrella?

As you’d dreaded—back at your half unpacked apartment, probably collecting dust at the bottom of one of your many, many boxes that still needed to be unloaded. Brilliant.

You ran into the store nearest you, quickly running through the flash flood, soaked to the core—your long hair dripping along the carpet. You didn’t know what to expect when entering the shop, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

It was probably the most colorful room you’d ever seen in all your life. Bright hues of orange and green and purple and red made the shop seem even much bigger than it was—loads of toys and supplies were making many sounds that seemed to reverberate off of the walls. Students and children and parents alike were chattering animatedly and peering admiringly at all of the inventions that were stocked very highly on the shelves. It was rather bustling, indeed.

“Looking for anything in particular?” a cool voice asked. When you turned around, a red haired man in a brown suit looked at you with wide eyes. “Bloody hell—get caught in that rain, did you?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” you told him. Was he the owner, perhaps? “Do you have a restroom or something I can wash up in?”

Another man who looked exactly like him sauntered over and asked his twin, “Georgie, I’ve just—lord, you alright, love?”

Love? Does every man in this country call women that? Not quite like America. Still, you couldn’t help but grin a little. “I’m fine—just wondering if you have a place I could dry off, maybe—”

George, the first one, said to you, “We’ve got dry towels—let me go and fetch them for you—”

“Believe there’s a sweatshirt in the pile of clean laundry too, mate, if you want to grab that,” the second one said.

You shook your head and said, “No, no, I’m fine, really—I live just up the way—just a towel will do.”

“Nonsense,” he told you, motioning for you to follow him. “C’mon, we’ll make you a bit of tea to warm you up,”

Okay, so, definitely the owners. They seemed so young to own such a successful shop in the middle of the busiest street in London. They couldn’t be older than twenty two, twenty three? How on earth were they handling all this chaos?

You’d learned a lot in your short time at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. It was a prank shop, basically, run by two boys who, although adults, did seem to love acting like children. Born and raised as two kids who wanted more than anything to continue making people laugh, even in the darkest of times, they’d hatched this plan at the mere age of five, and they’d not once teetered off track. Not very pleasing to their mother, you learned, who’d spent her lifetime watching over seven mischievous children, but she’d softened when she’d realized how well off they were, especially after the war you’d heard all about when you were back home.

As you pulled your still damp hair back into a high ponytail, you said to them both, “Well, thank you both very much—not exactly how I’d imagined my first day in London to be, but—I appreciate you taking me under your wing.”

With a swift goodbye as George was pulled away by customers, he told you, “Visit soon!” The other man stood in front of you with a concerned look in his eyes.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

You laughed softly. “I promise, yes. Thank you…”

“Fred,” he said, taking your hand in his.

You bit your bottom lip. “Y/N...well, thanks, again—I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“I hope so,” he said and winked. Was he seriously flirting right now? You glanced quickly at your wrist, taking a deep breath in. Was it him? Probably not. There were millions of others in Europe. You were strangely sad at the thought. You barely knew this guy. And who knew? Your soulmate could still be back home. Fred brought you back to reality when he asked, “Visit soon, yeah?”

You scratched the top of your head and grinned at him. “Yeah, soon...have a good night.”

And so your first night in London hadn’t gone exactly as planned. But what did you expect, really? Chaos. Always.

You were met the next morning with sunshine flooding through your apartment and boxes that needed unpacking. You groaned at the thought. Instead, you made your way into Diagon Alley again, this time determined to be able to shop more of the little stores in the sunlight, not having to escape the street due to flash flooding.

It was hot. You were surprised how hot it was. Your pale green sundress swung at your sides, and you pulled your long hair into a side braid to get it off of our neck. And as you’d assumed, the street was incredibly busy. But you didn’t seem to mind. You loved the bustle of the city.

You clumsily tripped over the cobblestone in your sandals, bumping hard into someone next to you. Looking down at their feet and regaining your composure, you said, “I’m so terribly sorry—”

“Back again, are we?”

It was Fred, the man from yesterday. He was smirking at you with his hands in his pockets.

“Well hey, Fred.”

His raised his eyebrows at you, seemingly impressed with the fact that after one brief meeting, you could tell him and his twin brother apart. “Impressive, honestly, nobody can really tell us apart except our mum,”

You smiled and glanced down at your shoes, biting your bottom lip.

“Listen, I’m about to grab a bite—and you certainly look like you could use a bit of a break,” he glanced down at the many bags you had in your hands, “care you join me?”

You went against your better judgement. Two days in a row you’d run into this man you barely know, and you’d already managed to have his sweatshirt, towel, and a pair of sweatpants in your apartment, and now he was inviting you for a bite to eat. An adventurous few days you were having, indeed. The field day your friends would be having with this information—

“Okay,” you told him, pushing the thought away and following him across the crowded street where he grabbed your hand and cut through very busy traffic.

“So,” he asked when he finally stopped walking. “Favorite flavor of ice cream?”

“Chocolate chip cookie dough,” you said immediately, not even thinking on it.. “And you?”

“I dunno,” he said truthfully, cocking his head to the side and looking up at the sky. “It changes daily. Ready?”

He pulled you closer towards the shop you were in front of, and when you looked up, you noticed a sign that read: Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.

Confused, you asked, “This is the bite you meant?”

“Yeah,” he told you matter-of-factly, reading your face for any sign of amusement. “C’mon, America, don’t tell me you’ve never had ice cream for lunch before.”

You smiled at him. America. What the hell—it was adorable, and you were nearly melting into a puddle in front of him. What were you doing? It was the accent, it had to be—and that red hair. God, the things your friends would be saying—

You pushed his arm softly and told him, “I shall have you know that I have definitely had ice cream for lunch.”

“Good,” he smirked, taking your hand in his and pulling you inside. “Let’s go, then.”

And after this second day in Diagon Alley, your afternoon meet up with Fred for ice cream from Florean Fortescue’s became a daily thing. It was addicting, this ice cream—absolutely nothing like you’d had back home, and thank goodness Diagon Alley was so large, because you were able to walk off those calories in a heartbeat.

As the summer dragged on and the impending school year drew nearer, you’d kept returning to the street—of course, for your school supplies, yes, but also to see him. You’d find yourself, every so often, glancing down at your wrist, looking at the silly phrase, wanting to forget about your soulmate altogether. You found yourself covering it with bracelets and watches, hoping that Fred would never see it and never have to ask about it.

You’d spent many afternoons in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, as well.

It proved to be very difficult to leave every evening, actually.

What were you doing?

You needed to draw yourself back. You needed too. You didn’t want to end up heartbroken, in a foreign city, before starting a new job in a new place with new people. It was a disaster in the making. You needed, more than anything, to protect your heart.

And so just a couple of days before the start of term, you slowly made your way into the shop, ready to tell Fred that you wouldn’t be seeing him for a long time, as term was about to begin, when he met you at the front of the store.

“Y/N! Glad to see you this morning,” he said brightly, coming round the bend of the back end of the store. “Now, when you get to Hogwarts in four days time, remember to tell Minerva McGonagall how fond you are of me and George—I reckon she’ll be so pleased you know us,”

You cocked your head to the side and placed your hand on your hip, smiling sweetly at him. “Why do I have the feeling that she’d actually be less than impressed at that?”

Pretending to fall backwards, Fred told you, “I’m heartbroken you think that, Y/N,”

I’m just heartbroken, you thought dramatically, shaking the thoughts from your head at how absolutely overly emotional you were being. Ridiculous. “Freddie listen, I—”

“Ooh, we’ve got just the thing for your classroom—it’s bloody brilliant, c’mon, you have to take it—it’ll be a good luck present, on us, yeah? C’mon then, won’t cost you a sickle,”

Begrudgingly, you followed him to the back of the store, when your heart stopped.

He laughed then, shaking his head and laughing to himself. “You’re from the other end. Reckon I probably should’ve said, ‘won’t cost you a dime’, is that way they say in America?”

And just like that, your head shot up and muscles tensed. That moment of reality. It was like you‘d gotten the wind knocked out of you, just as your parents told you. “Oh my god, what did you say?”

You watched Fred stop in his tracks, glance down at his wrist, and turn slowly back towards you, in the middle of a crowded store. Your heart and mind were racing, and it took every single ounce of you to restrict yourself from nearly jumping on top of him—

“It’s you,” he said, as if the entire world around the two of you had stopped abruptly.

“Get the wind knocked right out of you?” you asked him, pointing to his wrist and to yours.

He looked down at your hand and then back at you. Did he have tears in his eyes? “Yeah,” he said breathlessly—and then, that silly sarcasm. “I knew it.”

You actually laughed in the surprise of the moment. “You did not!”

“Well, I hoped,” he admitted. “I reckon you did, too?” He smiled sweetly at you. Yes, you’d hoped, too. He knew that. He could see it in your eyes from the moment you met one another, when you were rain soaked and shivering from the cold in his very busy store. He was in love with you right then.

Teasingly, you said aloud, “A British prankster. All my life I never pictured my soulmate as a British prankster.”

“Can’t say I ever pictured my soulmate as an American girl who’d end up working at the school I grew up in,”

You asked him jokingly, “Are you disappointed?”

Beaming at you, he replied, “Definitely not disappointed, America.”

It was really difficult to not turn to complete putty in his hands when he was so goddamn charming. It was inevitable.

You stood there, both peering at one another, wondering—what happens next?

And what kind of soulmate would you be if you didn’t ask him, “So can I kiss you now? I’m dying, here,”

And what kind of soulmate would he be if he didn’t tease you, “Well, yeah, darling, what the bloody hell are you waiting for?”

His lips were soft and warm, and it felt like you’d kissed them a million times before. He was your soulmate—in this life, and in any and every other lifetime there was—it would always be him—this confident, flirtatious, silly red headed boy who loved, more than anything, to bring a smile to people’s faces.

“Well thank bloody Merlin the two of you finally figured it out.”

George came down the steps from upstairs and wrapped his arms around the two of you. Up on the top floor, you saw another red headed boy and girl, who you knew must’ve been Ron and Ginny. Or was it Bill? Or Percy? Or Charlie? Guess you’d have time to figure it out. They both smiled at you.

“You knew?” you and Fred both asked George at the same time.

George chucked, “Yeah—it was really obvious, actually.” To you, he kissed you on the cheek and said, “Well—welcome to the family, officially! So, when’s the wedding? Kids on the way yet? Mate, you know mum is absolutely going to flip her lid when she hears the news—”

You choked back a laugh. Intertwining your fingers in Fred’s, you said to them both, “That’s a lot of steps we’ve skipped, there,”

And as he jokingly pushed his twin away, Fred turned back towards you, wound his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your temple as you draped your arms across his shoulders. His lips were pressed to your ear and it sent a shiver down your spine when he said, “I can’t wait to share all of them with you, my love.”

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reblogs + feedback are always appreciated lovelies :)