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drawingdroid · 5 months

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The Unknown Regions IV

A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic

Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances. Your abilities will lead to you crossing the galaxy together in search of his green son.

Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2 | Read Chapter 3

This chapter is rated +18! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut; the bucket stays on; naked female clothed male; hurt and comfort; Sad Din :(

Word count: 3,745

A/N: Din and you have a misunderstanding and actually talk openly about it like ADULTS! I love fiction!!! Finally, smut is here dear readers, I hope you enjoy it. I've struggled like crazy to write this chapter bc smut felt forced and I wanted a smoooth transition. I am not super happy with the result, but hey, I need to know when to let go. I've been thinking this would be interesting from Din's pov too, lemme know what you think. And yes, I know I don't respond to any comments I love reading them but anxiety kills me when I hit reply! I'm so sorry!!!

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

You were so focused on your calculations that you didn't notice Din observing you. Leaning against the doorframe casually, the bounty hunter had his gaze fixated on you. He was stealthy for such a big man, so when his gloved hand gently touched your shoulder your heart skipped a beat.

“¡Mando!” You jumped from your seat. He immediately retrieved his touch as if he had been burnt.

“Sorry I…I didn't want to startle you.”

He looked so uncomfortable right now you felt bad for him. Well, had seemed uncomfortable around you for the two weeks you had been travelling together, so that wasn’t new. You were sure your presence around the ship had prevented him from relaxing at all. It was normal, its size had you clashing with each other all the time and it didn’t provide any privacy. And the Razor Crest, you have learnt, was also his home. Well, his and Grogu's.

He told you about the little one a night he was being especially silent. The moon you had stopped at looked inhabited and arid. He commented it was similar to Arvala-7, the planet where he found the child. After that, you listened while he spoke about how he met his son. His beautiful voice was full of pain and you ended up offering your hand for relief and support. He was hesitant but ended up accepting your warm touch.

Since then, casual physical contact had been a constant between you. With the days passing, you grew bolder with it, no longer squishing yourself to prevent your bodies from touching in the tight space of the Crest, and more like rubbing your plush body against his armour. A friendly hand on his shoulder, his on the small of your back. Therere were brief moments that made your heart flutter at the contact.

The truth was that living together had only made your initial attraction to him grow: observing such a mighty warrior performing the little tasks of day-to-day life was somewhat endearing. The things you could learn about someone just by looking at them at their little routines were incredible. You realized he was a methodical, goal-oriented man, and although he looked serious he did things like speaking with his ship when you wouldn't notice. He was also very caring, not only about Grogu but also his covert, the name he used to refer to the other Mandalorians he lived among. And he had the highest respect for his culture and his creed, something you really admired about him. Every day, you hoped he admired you back, too.

“Don’t worry about it, I tend to become so self-absorbed when I work I forget my surroundings.” You fidgeted nervously with your hair, feeling the burn of his gaze, until his visor shifted to the nav system. “Oh, I calculated the coordinates for the final jump and double-checked them. It’ll take around 30 standard hours to arrive there.”

Since you were travelling towards uncharted space, you couldn’t just jump to the planet, even though you knew the coordinates it was reckless without knowing the obstacles you could possibly meet, so it was more sensible to do it on shorter jumps.

“Let me check.” Mando leaned towards the console, supporting himself in his strong arms. You hoped your gasp at his sudden closeness wasn’t too audible.

“Are you doubting my calculations?” You meant to sound sassy but your voice came shaky. He was too close, hovering over you while checking the route. If your body wasn’t covered due to the cold of outer space, he could have noticed the goosebumps his proximity provoked.

“You can't drive a ship.” He deadpanned. You didn't feel bad about his affirmation, it was a fact. You had never had the opportunity to learn.

“I know my numbers, Mando.” You retorted, confident in your ability. He stared at you while you tried to remain unbothered. The truth was that the banter and his physical closeness had you a little flushed. His gaze finally left you to resume checking the panel and you rolled your eyes, although you understood his doubts. After all, his child and his ship were at stake

“This is flawless.” He admitted after a while, turning his helmet to you again.”Good job.” You opened your eyes widely at the praise and observed his muscular frame towering over you. His beskar looked beautiful, reflecting the starry space. He looked beautiful.

“I’m happy to help in any way I can.” You responded in a small voice, swallowing hard.

Neither of you moved for a while and you sighed involuntarily. With how close you were, you could just lean on him as you had been longing to do. To be embraced by his big arms. He sighed, his visor not leaving your frame. You wondered if he felt the pull too. He had to. The magnetic field was just too strong.

“Mando…” He shifted his position, coming even closer to you. You could observe your doe-eyed reflection in his Beskar helmet. He raised his gloved hand and reached for your round shoulder again. This time his touch was gentler than ever and his orange thumb caressed your clothed skin. Mouth dry, you wondered what would his next step be.

“I need…my seat to make the jump.”

The spell broke. Your brain was not computing. You swore you could die right there from the embarrassment. Of course, you were sitting on the pilot's chair. He only wanted your fat ass to move. And you thought you were having a moment. What an idiot, fantasizing about embracing him or whatever, when he only wanted to resume the trip to get to his son as soon as possible.

Clumsily, you stood up, your face hot with embarrassment. Inevitably, your bodies rubbed in the tiny space. You were a big woman, he was practically on you and the cockpit wasn’t precisely ample.

“Of course.”

The feeling was all-consuming and you rushed towards the sliding door, abandoning the cockpit in a heartbeat. You couldn’t see how a very confused Mando observed you leaving, asking himself how he had offended you.

Tears of embarrassment stained your cheeks when you managed to curl inside the bunk. Mando had been so kind to let you sleep there, and you had been loving it. The first night you couldn't help yourself and used your fingers to make you cum three times. His masculine fragrance was everywhere. It was like being embraced by him and your imagination was an overactive one.

But now, having his scent kriffing everywhere wasn’t helping to deflect the feeling of rejection that had taken you. Why were you being like this? Of course, it wasn’t the first time you were turned down. Or the tenth. By now, you should be used to it. But nevertheless, it hurt a lot.

All your life, you were always the clever, bright friend. The daughter who didn’t cause trouble. The gentle and caring one. But you were never called beautiful. Even by your romantic partners. They may say things about how they loved your “fat ass” or “big tits” but this didn’t make you feel pretty but just objectified, and especially, not truly seen as a sentient being. The worst of your male companions even complained about your size and how they weren’t able to manhandle you as they would have done with a smaller woman. You knew this was rooted in their deepest insecurities and how being perceived as smaller than their partner affected their self-esteem... But what about yours?

The truth was that Mando’s gesture (or lack of it) hadn’t been so hurtful, but the stream of memories it triggered, and now you found yourself sobbing under his sheets. When you felt the familiar blow of entering hyperspace, you only hoped that he remained in the cockpit and let you hide for the rest of the trip. But he didn’t.

First, you heard the familiar footsteps coming down from the ladder. He cleared his throat and then knocked softly at the bunk's door. Your blood froze.

“Hey I'm…I'm sorry.” You could clearly hear these weren't words he said often or lightly. A knot formed in your stomach but the tears stopped.

“It 's okay.” You responded with a raspy voice from the crying.

“No, I shouldn't have doubted your route. You're the professional.”

You couldn't decide between bursting into laughter or crying again. He was clueless, wasn't he? Maybe you could just roll with that and hide your true feelings. It was a good opportunity and it’ll save you from an uncomfortable moment. But you weren't the kind of person to do that.

“Mando, do you really think I'm mad because of that?” A pensive hum was his only response.

The bunk's door opened and a very confused warrior appeared right in front of you. Your eyes were red but your smile was bright. You felt your heart hammering inside your chest. He looked so helpless, all his self-assurance gone because of your tears. You sighed, gathering the courage to speak.

“In the cockpit, there was a moment when you were very close to me...” Mando immediately stiffened.

“I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable because of that. I thought…” His voice was strained through the modulator. You shook your head.

“I'm the one who misunderstood the situation, Mando.” You stared at him but it was clear his metal head wasn't computing. “ You were almost all over me. I thought something was going to happen. Between us.” You had to clarify.

The gears inside the helmet started turning and finally, you could see those broad shoulders relax a bit.

“You expected…you wanted something to happen between us?” He asked using your own words. You bit your lip unsure, but you were already too far gone to stop this.

“Yes Mando, I really like you and what happened in the cockpit made me feel rejected. That's why I was mad.” This time you tried to explain yourself clearly as you didn't want more misunderstandings, even though your skin felt like molten lava. Mando remained silent for a while, shifting his weight and finally took a step towards the bunk, putting a hand against the frame of the door.

“Why would I reject you?”

“What?” It wasn't possible you had heard that right.

“You've understood me perfectly.” His voice turned darker and commanding. You swallowed at the sudden change of demeanour.

“I don't know. Many have rejected me before. It made sense.” You felt vulnerable and hugged your knees trying to appear smaller unconsciously. Opening up about your fear of rejection wasn't in your plans today. “Where I come from, being overweight is frowned upon.” You added in a small voice, ashamed of your feelings.

“Di’kute!” He grunted the foreign word, audibly angry. To your surprise, he sat next to you inside the cot and grabbed your hand. “You're a gorgeous woman, mesh’la. They were bantha fodder if they couldn't appreciate you.”

It may have been your already sensitive state, but tears came again to you. His faceless stare burnt you, as well as his body heat inside the tiny space. But he continued with the praise without letting go of your hand.

“Where I come from fat is a good signal. It means health, and strength. Extra padding in battle.” You giggled but he was serious. “It's synonymous with peace and not living off ration bars. It means giving birth to healthy younglings.” He added the last point in a raspier voice and you stopped breathing thinking about the meaning behind those words.

“Mando…”

“Come here mesh’la.” You didn't recognise the last word but obeyed and the next moment you were in his lap. “Can I touch you?” His voice sounded kinder this time, less commanding. Your heart was going to explode.

“Please.”

And then his hands were all over you. Tracing the outline of your curves, grabbing the supple flesh of your tights, grazing over your generous bust. The touch was so intoxicating, passionate but slow, as if he wanted desperately to memorize your shape.

“Your body is precious, I'll put a hole between the eyes of whoever made you feel the opposite.” You had never felt aroused by violence, but Mando's voice whispering that in your ear made things to you. It felt so hot inside the bunk by then you felt the necessity to get rid of your clothing. Nevertheless, in spite of Mando's praise, you doubted when you grabbed the hem of your tunic. He sensed your hesitancy. “Are you gonna show me that beautiful armour padding?”

You giggled, amused by how playful he became in bed, and finally removed the piece of clothing. His sharp breath was everything you needed to hear.

“Like what you see Mando?” You teased, discarding the tunic and feeling a bit more confident because of his reaction. While he was a victim of a momentary paralysis, you took your chance to caress his biceps where any armour protected his skin. He was as hard as Beskar there and you thought this warrior could be the first to actually manhandle you. That thought only contributed to the heat growing in your centre dangerously.

“Dank Farrik I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you after this.” His voice sounded pained behind the vocoder while he appreciated your soft body.

“Then don’t.” You coed, and then guided his hands to your breasts that were spilling from your bra dangerously. Mando exhaled loudly as if all the tension he had been holding the last weeks was released. His gloved thumbs found your nipples fast, the stiff material feeling so good against your sensitive peaks. “Don’t be afraid, you can be rougher with them.”

Mando actually moaned at your honeyed words and you couldn’t name a more heavenly sound. He explored your tits with devotion, giving them all the attention in the world until your nipples couldn’t be harder and your breathing more agitated. But then, after some time hovering over his legs, yours started to feel numb from sustaining the position so you had to move a bit to feel your muscles again.

“Sorry, my legs went numb.” You excused yourself, but in a heartbeat, his hands shifted to your plush hips and you got the hint.

“Sit.”

“I’ll crush you.” Looking away, your previous self-confidence cracked a bit after his petition. You were too heavy, he will be uncomfortable and then…

“I carry bounties three times my weight for a living.” With the cocky affirmation, he interrupted your racing thoughts before spiralling. “I’ll be okay.”

You haven’t seen him in action yet, but the image of the Mandalorian manoeuvring a bounty out of pure strength made you shiver, yielding to his command. But you wouldn’t drown without dragging him with you.

“Stars woman!” He grunted when your clothed cunt made contact with his bulge. Not satisfied enough with that, you rolled your hips a couple of times to torture him further. Your plan backfired, as it provoked both of you to moan in unison.

“You wanted me…to sit.” You sassed between laboured breaths. Mando growled in response, but his hands travelled to your behind until they were grabbing a handful of your round ass.

“Do you know where else I’d want you to sit?” His voice was raspier than ever, the desire on it crystal clear to you. He really wanted you.

“Mando!” This playful side of him was unexpected but you were loving every moment of it. He took advantage of his leverage to move you impossibly closer to him, making you squirm when your sensitive nipples touched the colder beskar of his cuirass. Your hands snaked around his thick neck and you found yourself completely squished against your huge warrior. His erection felt so hot and hard between your legs that your cunt only grew wetter and wetter, making you wonder if he could notice. Then he started to move and soon you were moaning in the crook of his neck, grinding like a loth-cat in heat.

“Please mesh’la, let me make you feel as good as you deserve.” All the cockiness of his tone was done when he asked you with the most laboured breathing. His hands started caressing your spine and back rolls and you were a puddle in his strong arms.

“Let me…let me get up to remove my pants.” He indeed let you, but his hands didn´t, and while you stood to remove the last of your clothes, he continued exploring your body completely mesmerized. “Mando, I can’t undress if you don’t put your hands away!” You giggled standing on the threshold of the bunk waiting for him to realize. His helmet turned up to look at you then as if he was weighing his possibilities.

“Allow me to undress you, please.” The tone of his plead made you shiver and your cunt walls spasm. Your noded suddenly shy and the next moment he was on his knees unfastening your boots. Maker, what a sight.

When he finished with your footwear, he removed your shocks and started caressing your ankles, going up your calves painfully slowly until he finally reached the waistband of your pants. By then, you were shivering out of pure anticipation. But he still took the time to discard first your pants leaving you in your soaked underwear. He stopped and removed his hands for you to your surprise. Maybe he was having second thoughts? Maybe he didn’t like what he saw?

Your thoughts didn’t spiral for long, as Mando started removing his gloves still kneeling at your feet. Your eyes went wide: it was the first time you saw any of his skin. Gloves finally apart, you could appreciate it was a beautiful hue of gold before his thumbs were hooked in your panties. Without seeing his expression, you could feel the reverence in every touch Of his. It was like you were something holy and he was praying at your shrine. Then it hit you: this wasn’t just a fuck for both of you. This will change things.

“You’re drenched mesh’la.” The last piece of clothing was finally removed and his curious hands didn’t take long to open the folds of your glistening cunt. You looked away a bit embarrassed but he assured you. “You’re so beautiful and soft I can't help myself but...”

Then he did the most surprising thing. With his fingers covered with your slick, he went to the inferior part of his helmet and made disappear. He yas kriffing tasting you.

“Dank Farrik and you taste heavenly too.” Things became fast in a moment. He suddenly stood up in all his imposing height, totally covered in contrast with your nakedness, grabbed your but and in a heartbeat was lifting you from the floor. You squirmed in surprise, your legs rapidly snaking around his tapered waist, feeling all the whole glory of his erection against your pussy. He then turned in his heels and laid you in his bed delicately. But you weren’t playing tame anymore.

“Mando, I need you please.” Your plea was accompanied by a roll of your hips against the bulge on his pants, and you moaned at the sensation of the harsh fabric against the sensitive skin there. Mando grunted at the contact and obeyed you, removing his crossbody ammo belt. You continued the grinding while he battled with the straps of his hip belt, pleasuring yourself against his hard cock, until the leather piece full of pouches hit the ground with a loud thud.

Finally, his hot hands were all over you again and he leaned over your body. But then, he froze in place. You looked at him quizzically when you heard something metallic rolling on the floor. Maybe something important? Maker, you knew he kept bombs on the belt…

“Wait,” he said, leaving you naked in the bunk where you experienced the worst ten seconds of your life thinking you were going to be blown away before having sex with the Mandalorian. But his absence was brief, and he returned with a spherical object between his golden fingers. Something you didn’t recognize at all.

“Is it a bomb?” You asked clueless. He chucked but there was something off about it.

“It’s from a lever in the cockpit.” You sighed in relief knowing your life or his weren’t in danger. Noticing how he wouldn’t stop looking at the metal ball, you knew he wasn’t okay. Finding your tuning between the mess of sheets and blankets, you put it on and sat on the edge of the cot. You didn’t feel annoyed because the intimate moment was interrupted: it was clear something was disturbing him.

“Hey, Mando, look at me.” You asked, holding his bare wrists most delicately. He flinched at the contact and you noticed his pulse was derailed. Then he looked at you like he had just noticed you were there and started apologising.

“I’m so sorry I…” It looked like he didn’t even know how to start explaining himself. You’ll say he sounded even embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I’m not upset. We don’t have to continue if you don’t feel like it.” His shoulders slumped and his gaze fixated again on the ball. And then you noticed, by the light shivering of his torso. He was crying. Your heart broke in a thousand pieces. “Come here, baby.” You cooed, opening your arms to the Mandalorian, hoping you could offer some relief to whatever he was experiencing.

To your surprise, he fell to his knees again and then sank his helmet into your lap. His shoulders were convulsing more visibly now and your chest hurt for him. You started caressing the back of his neck, hoping it felt soothing for him, and remained like that for a while.

“I’ve got you baby.”

You didn’t know how much time it passed with Mando sobbing against your tunic and you doing your best to make him feel better, but after a while, it looked like he was calmer.

“I already lost him once.” His voice was coarse from crying, and even though the lack of context you knew immediately he was referring to Grogu.

“We’ll find him and take him home, Mando.” You responded softly, feeling something warm spread inside you and not stopping for a second your caresses.

“Din.” He finally unburied his head from your lap and looked at you. “My name is Din Djarin.”

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #grogu #din grogu #the mandalorian x you #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x fem!reader #droidwrites

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hanna-kin · 1 year

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Some time ago I made a post with random Swedish facts based on some very common misunderstandings or misconceptions I've seen in this fandon. I was asked to make more of these.

Some points will be repeats because I see them in fics and discussions all the time.

Again this is just made to share swedish culture and some fact about swedish society. Not to point blame at people. Research can be tricky and it's easy to assume that things work as they do in your own country.

And at the end of the day it's not that deep. However if you have any questions or want to discuss my ask box is open and I'm always happy to help. You can also dm me if you prefer that.

⭐️ Swearing is no big deal at all. For a Royal and in public yes, in every day life, no teenager will scold another for swearing and alot of parents wouldn't bat an eye.

⭐️ Sex is also not a big deal. Teenagers have sex. Parents expect them to.

⭐️You don't adress eachother with Mr and miss/Mrs/Ms. Hillerska is a little different because the students formally adress their teachers but that is not how things work outside of school. The teachers call the students by their first name. Noone will day Mr Eriksson to Simon. Not Malin, not the Queen, not a teacher, noone.

⭐️ Legal age for drinking is 18 but you can only buy it at 18 at restaurants, bars and nightclubs. The legal age to buy alcohol elsewhere is 20.

⭐️You are allowed to get your drivers lisence at 18. Most people get one for stick shift and stick shift is very common. You can start practicing at 16 though.

⭐️Simon and Wilhelm are 16 or about to turn 16 the year they start Hillerska. So in season 1 they are either already 16 or about to turn 16. In season 2 they are going to turn 17 that same year. Unless they for some reason skipped a year or were held back. Which there's no reason to believe.

⭐️ Sara is a year older than Simon. They are not twins. She was held back. This is why she turns 18 amd becomes a legal adult in season 2.

⭐️ August is 2 years older than Simon and Wille so is about to turn 19 during the year that season 2 takes place.

⭐️ The age difference between August and Sara is not considered weird. Neither is the age difference between Marcus and Simon (2years) it doesn't really matter that Marcus is an adult and Simon is not. The legal age of consent is 15 and if people are close in age people won't think it's weird.

⭐️ School is free. There are laws that prohibit schools from charging anyhting. I don't even think the uniforms would cost anything. Getting them tailored would of course. I might be wrong about this but the first 9 years of school before Gymnasiet (High school) are not allowed to cost anything. Simon and Sara are not on scholarships. Sara is on one for boarding but not for attending.

⭐️ University is also free. Most people have the opportunity to go to uni since it's free and there are loans you can take to cover living expenses that you pay off once you've done with your studies. You also get a little amount every month that is not a loan. You get in based on grades. The police school also have physical tests and interviews to make sure you are fit enough and suitable to become a Police officer. Other than that it's basically grades for most educations. So everyone has the same chance. (Almost)

⭐️ Many students work extra but not everyone. I did but not all of my friends did.

⭐️ Both school and university are based on two terms. For school the autumn term starts in kid August and ends just before Christmas. Then the Spring term starts in the beginning of Janaury and ends in the beginning of June.

Uni is a little different. Autumn term starts at the end of August or at the beginning of September (typically) and ends in the beginning of january.

The new term starts around the 9th of January and ends at the beginning of June.

⭐️ Uni on really has a summer break but not all teachers and professors are dickheads but you can technically have both lectures and seminares only days after Christmas which means no Christmas break. You will most definitely have something to study for or write during Christmas because the beginning of January always almost mean a written exam or a deadline for an essay.

⭐️ Normal school has breaks. 10 weeks of summer break from beginning of June to middle of August.

Autumn break in late October/beginning of November. 7 days. Or like 5 weekdays.

Christmas break is around 3 weeks. From a few days before Christmas to beginning of January. A few days into the new year.

Then we have what we call Sports break. Typically in February but it warries and different regions have different weeks to not crowed skiing resorts etc. 7 days.

Then we have easter break which is also devided ao the break either begins with the easter weekend and Good Friday (almost wrote black Friday lmao) or ends with easter monday. In total it's 8 days.

⭐️ As a full time employee you typically get 25 paid days of leave which is 5 weeks. There is a law that states that your employer has to allow you three weeks of paid leave in a row during summer (June-August). You also get more days the older you get. In addition you also get a kind of vacation bonus that is added on to your salary when you take time off.

⭐️ Very typical working hours are 8 hours a day for a full time job. Some work a little less though. For my full time is 7.75 hours a day. Those who work shift sometimes have a little less than 8 hours or 40 hours a week.

I worked shift at my old job (Group home) one shift was from 07.00 am to 16.00 or 16m30 with 30 minutes break. One shift was from 13.30-21.30 if I remember correctly. Also with 30 minutes break. The night shift was from 21.00-7.00. If you worked late nights, the night shift or weekends and holidays you would get paid extra. So on weekends I got around 53 kr extra per hour, around 5 euros. During holidays such as christmas, new years eve, easter or midsummer you'd get around 100 kr extra per hour.

If you end up more than full time you also get paid extra or get more days you can take off. For me you get paid double or can take time off instead.

This varies though depending on where you work and your title etc.

⭐️ The hospital has similar working hours with three shifts. We know Linda is a nurse so she probably works as least both day shifts and evening shift. Maybe even night shifts. If she worked overtime she would be paid extra.

⭐️ Labour unions are also very common and very important. There are many unions depending on profession. The unions protect the workers rights and interests. They can help you should you get in some kind dispute with your employer. They also negotiate terms and conditions for workers as well as wages.

⭐️ Sweden has fairly strong laws around work and employment that also set duties and responsibilities of employers. You can't fire people based on nothing and are obliged to follow strict laws.

⭐️ Over all Sweden has a fairly strong welfare system. Not perfect by any means but fairly strong and not something to take for granted.

That includes free health care, free school, child protective services, etc. Of course its funded by taxes so it's not free but you get it.

⭐️ There's protection of you don't have a job, can't work because you are physically or mentally unable to and when you retire. (This could definitely be better though)

⭐️ There are also protection for children. There would not be shelters for Lgbtq+ teenagers that have been throwned out by homophobic parents etc. There is social service that would help and there is a foster care system though.

School also have very strict rules to follow and are obliged to report if they believe a child is in danger at home or that their parents are not fit to care for them.

Orphanages for children and teenagers are not a thing but there are group homes but for other reasons.

⭐️ There are shelters for homeless people and other socially vulnerable people like drug addicts. Many are funded by the Church.

⭐️ I used to work with people with mental illness and or drug addiction and they were also surrounded by a sort of support network. (I would say that too would need improvement but they got help and they had somewhere to live.)

This is what I can come up with right now. Thank you @darktwistedgenderplural for coming up with ideas.

If you have any questions feel free to ask and if there's something you want me to adress don't hesitate. And feel free to add points.

#young royals #swedish stuff

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aeor-is-for-reccing · 1 year

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Cultural Differences - Shadowgast Recs

This week, we have twelve fics exploring cultural differences between Caleb and Essek! Read more under the cut.

Careful Steps by chaya (6066, Teen) Warnings: None A pre-episode 97 fic about Essek's attempts at courting Caleb according to both Kryn and Empire customs. Reccer says: It builds a cohesive picture of Kryn rules of courtship and by showing the wizards' interactions through this lens, it manages to express emotion and desire in subtle and often humorous ways.

Widogast 101: Introduction to Bread by ThreeGremlinsInATrenchcoat (2524, General) Warnings: None Caleb finds out that Essek has never eaten bread before, so he brings him a lot of Zemnian breads to try. Reccer says: Caleb is so fascinated with Essek's opinions on the different types of bread. It's very endearing.

my kingdom for a braid by hanap (10998, Teen) Warnings: minor violence Caleb and Essek are the rulers of the Empire and the Dynasty as well as star crossed lovers. When Caleb reaches out, years later, with what he thinks is a romantic gesture, Essek understands it as a declaration of war. Reccer says: It's got dramatic irony! It's got a wonderful breadth of POV characters! It's beautifully written!

In the Interest of Identity by firefright (2232, General) Warnings: None A late night talk on the importance of names. Reccer says: Some lovely pining and Dynasty worldbuilding

Inventory by Operafloozy (3862, Teen) Warnings: None Yasha helps Essek out with some cultural misunderstandings, and also packing. Reccer says: Great worldbuilding and voices - it's about Essek and Caleb's relationship, but also Essek and Yasha and how they relate to the Dwendalians in their lives.

the apple of one’s eye by saturdaysky (1286, Teen) Warnings: None Essek gifts Caleb a very authentic traditional Zemnian garment. Or so he thinks. Reccer says: Hilarious, sweet, and surprisingly hot! It’s a quick read but a memorable one.

gilded by renquise (1949, Teen) Warnings: None A deliciously horny little fic with an old dynasty courting custom at the centre. Reccer says: For such a short little fic, the world and the characters feel so rich and lived in. Super hot as well as tender and sweet and a treat for hand kink havers!

And All the Trifles, Sweet and Frail by Interrobang (2329, Explicit) Warnings: Trans Essek-- this fic includes vaginal fingering. Drow have certain customs about handwear and hand-to-hand contact. By Kryn standards, Caleb is a bit of a trollop. Reccer says: Excellent sense of tension and sensuality, but also, the fact Essek finds handholding to be Extremely Scandalous is SUPER funny to me.

Appetites by portraitofemmy (1793, Explicit) Warnings: None Essek muses on the voracious nature of humans. Reccer says: Lush, indulgent, and gorgeous

In My Head, I'm Yours by Marmeladeskies (31346, Teen) Warnings: no warnings “I… my Den’s annual meeting is coming up, and I need a plus one, to put it simply.” “You need someone to pretend to be your daaaaaaaate?” Essek brings Caleb as his "fake" date to a family reunion. Feels and shenanigans ensue. Reccer says: I love the in-depth depiction of the Dynasty as a matriarchy, and thus Essek as a male drow has to put up with much of the same bullshit that female-presenting humans do. The flipped social dynamics are super interesting to me.

For these last two, we had multiple recs each for them:

Indecency by RainyDayDecaf (5898, Teen) Warnings: None Caleb and Essek keep accidentally performing courtship rituals from the other's culture Reccer 1 says: A really adorable 6+1 fic, super cute and sweet Reccer 2 says: It's just very cute and fluffy. The boys are in love and stupid about it at times. Reccer 3 says: The wizards are flirting and pining and blushing and accidentally going WAY TOO FAR with their intended gestures because of cultural differences. It's soft and sweet and funny and like a warm hug.

In the Closet of our Discretion by Firefright (12280, Mature) Warnings: None Caleb gets a hands-on lesson on how the many layers of Dynasty formalwear. By taking it off Essek. Reccer 1 says: I love the worldbuilding inherent in it, along with the wonderful build-up of tension as Caleb removes each layer. Reccer 2 says: Such a good study of dynasty clothing. Reccer 3 says: Well written, romantic, and sexy! Reccer 4 says: If you like costume porn or headcanons about the Dynasty having pseudo-Victorian modesty standards, then this is the fic for you. Disclaimer: despite my costume porn description, there is no actual smut in this, though it does have one of the hottest disrobing scenes I've ever read.

Have some questions? Wonder who's doing this? Check out our FAQ, and look for us next week, when we'll have a new rec list centered around canon divergent AU's!

#shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #Critical Role #CR Fic #CR fic recs #Cultural Differences

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downstarr · 3 months

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The Consort

The Consort (3189 words) by downstar Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins Additional Tags: Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Domestic Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Established Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Fluff, Consort Bilbo Baggins, POV Bilbo Baggins, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Misunderstandings, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarf/Hobbit Relationship(s), Dwarf Gender Concepts, Dwarf Courting, Domestic Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Cultural Differences Series: Part 2 of The Quiet Moments - Bilbo and Thorin Summary: After a confession of their feelings, Bilbo returns to Erebor with Thorin. The great city is in the process of rebuilding, and Thorin is settling into his role as his king. Word is getting around that their king has asked an outsider - a hobbit! - to be his consort. Can their burgeoning relationship survive the pressures of kingship and cultural misunderstandings? --- This fic carries on in continuty from my one-shot The King and the Hobbit. It's part of a series of one-shots or short pieces that exist within the same continuity and in the same timeline. Check the previous fic in this collection for the story of how the two of them got together. I plan for this to be a short multichapter, likely 4-5 when complete.

Chapter 1

Bilbo Baggins was beginning to learn the difference between questing with a group of dwarves and living among them.

He’d returned to Erebor with Thorin and the company of dwarves he’d first journeyed with what felt like a lifetime ago. The trip from the Shire was deeply uneventful, especially compared to their first trek. Bilbo found himself happy and at-ease, and it was wonderful to spend time with Thorin now that they had admitted what they felt for each other.

The first few days in Erebor were also blissful. Bilbo marvelled at the progress the dwarves had made in the short time since the death of the great dragon and the Battle of the Five Armies. The architecture of The Lonely Mountain was built to withstand the ages, hewn as it was into the stone by master craftsmen. Even Smaug, in all his wicked greed, could not destroy all the dwarves had built.

It would still be a long time before Erebor retook its position as one of the great kingdoms of Middle Earth. But thanks to the wealth of Smaug, the assistance of the Elves of the Woodland Realm and the Men of Laketown (who Thorin gave their due in a share of the treasure) there was life in the heart of that lonely temple of stone once again. The population was small at first, but there were new dwarves arriving every day as word of Erebor’s liberation spread.

And there was new life in the heart of Bilbo as well. The grand chambers of the King Under the Mountain were far more lavish and adorned than anything Hobbits had ever seen, but one of his first tasks was to bring a bit of warmth and comfort to that stony chamber. He gathered up furs to make hard surfaces more inviting. He made sure that Thorin’s personal pantry was stocked with tea and biscuits and all the good things necessary when hosting a hobbit. He even arranged a trade with the Woodland Realm for a set of lanterns that captured sunlight. Their warm glow not only chased away the dark, but allowed green things to thrive beneath the ground.

Thorin accepted all these changes without a word of complaint and with a twinkle of good humour in his eye.

One evening, a few weeks into his stay in Erebor, Bilbo sat hunched over a heavy metal desk, perched high on a pair of cushions, his hairy feet dangling off the edge of the chair. He’d been hard at work for hours, drafting what would one day become the first chapter of their fated quest.

Thorin approached him from behind and set his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m going to sleep. Join me when you’re ready. Don’t hurry on my account. Your candlelight does not bother me.”

“Mhmm, be there soon,” replied Bilbo, his brow furrowed in concentration as he mouthed the words of the sentence he was trying to get just right. “Ah, Thorin, Thorin…” he looked up suddenly and swiveled around.

Thorin had just finished ducking out of his embroidered tunic. The flickering light of the roaring hearth set into the wall and the dim glow of the sunstones huddled up against Bilbo’s plants tossed flattering shadows across the thick muscle of his back. It also highlighted the pure white scar tissue rimmed in silver where Azog’s blade had sliced him through. Elvish medicine had saved his life, but he would always bear the mark of his nemesis and feel the wound echoed in the movement of his body.

Thorin looked over his shoulder and lifted a brow when Bilbo called his name. “Mhmm?”

Bilbo found himself staring. He still wasn’t used to seeing the dwarven king in a state of undress, especially in so casual and intimate a moment. A physique such as Thorin’s was unknown among hobbits, which went some of the way towards explaining why Bilbo had never found a lover among his own kind. There was much more there, of course, but the physical nature of his attraction had caught him off-guard more than once since he’d found the courage to acknowledge it.

Thorin noticed Bilbo’s wandering gaze and turned around. He made a bit of a cheeky show of leaning up against the wall next to the hearth, as if aware that the firelight did much to flatter his body.

Bilbo swallowed, twitched his nose and tap-tapped his pen against a spare bit of paper he used to blot the ink. “Do you…” he cleared his throat, “...do you think there’s someone who could teach me Khuzdul? I should like to add some dwarvish script to my book. I’ve also heard that Smaug left the archive virtually untouched and there are many wonderful and ancient tomes that are still in good condition. But I can’t read any of them. And that…” he rapped his pen again, “... is a speeeeecial kind of torture.”

Thorin was a stoic man, capable of very subtle expressions. But the delight at hearing Bilbo’s request was immediate and obvious. He smiled, his eyes lighting up as warm as hearthfire. He crossed the great chamber to Bilbo’s side and reached out to cup his cheek. “I will send for a scholar from the Iron Hills to be your tutor. You will have the advantage of learning under a master of languages.”

“That’s really not necessary. I can muddle along with some references and a helper. I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble,” Bilbo replied. He felt the tips of his ears burn red, and he was suddenly grateful for the mess of his hair and the low shimmer of light.

“A king troubles himself where he pleases, especially when it comes to the happiness of his consort,” rumbled Thorin as he reached for Bilbo’s hand. He ran his thumb over the Mithril and white gem bracelet he’d given Bilbo when he pledged himself to him. The bracelet was a masterwork of the finest living dwarven artisans and featured knotwork that entwined dwarf and hobbit motifs. “I want you to be happy here, Bilbo. I know your heart aches for home when you are away from the Shire. And that call of home, which I understand well, means you will not always be by my side. While you are here, it’s my wish that you should want for nothing. A tutor to teach you my tongue is a small thing to ask. Especially as your desire to learn Khuzdul honours me.”

Bilbo swallowed and lifted his hand to place on top of Thorin’s. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to a bit of special treatment. You’ll forgive me if it feels a bit strange.”

“It is strange for me as well,” said Thorin. “Don’t forget I have spent a long time in exile, with very little power. I could not even call together a proper force to retake Erebor. It was only through your bravery and that of our company that has given me what I have now. I will share it, in defiance of the sickness that nearly claimed my mind. The malady of the mind that destroyed my grandfather will not take me. What I want from you is to accept my generosity, as it is the sword I use to battle the shadows in the darkest corners of my heart.” And then his tone softened into a pleading one, “Can you do that?”

Bilbo knew Thorin to be a man of exceptional strength. But he had seen his ghosts and his flaws as he locked himself within the heart of the mountain and hid away from his allies. He sensed that Thorin would always struggle against the demons of avarice, especially as he sat as King Under the Mountain, with greed and excess on display in every gilded corner. But as he looked into Thorin’s eyes, he became acutely aware of how close to the surface those feelings still were. He was strong enough to keep his worst impulses from overtaking him, but they would never fully be banished.

Bilbo had never confessed the secret of the ring he’d found in a musty, dark cave with a twisted, pitiful creature. But he felt the weight of it, as strongly as Thorin felt the shadow of Smaug that still twisted around him. They each had to guard against an outside force full of malice and darkness that neither would be able to ever truly escape.

“I…I understand,” said Bilbo. “And I will try my best to accept your gifts. Though keep in mind that I’m a simple creature. You give me comfort and the honour of your company, and that’s enough to keep me quite happy, thank you.” His lips twitched into a smile.

“Your tastes may be simple, Bilbo, but you are not. There was a time when I thought that too, but I was so very wrong. Come…” he pulled him gently. “Come to bed. In the morning, I will send instructions to the archive to prepare books for you. We have some for the young to help them read and write their tongue. That should allow you to get started as we await the arrival of your tutor.”

Bilbo took Thorin’s hand and hopped down from the chair. He gazed up at the dwarven king with warmth and fondness. “Thank you,” he said softly. And then he got up on his tip-toes and reached up to pull Thorin down. He kissed him sweetly, and then followed him back to their bed. Continue reading on Ao3

#fanfiction #ao3 #fic rec #bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #the hobbit bilbo #thilbo #thorin fic #the hobbit thorin #the hobbit #ao3 writer #the hobbit fanfiction

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witchofthesouls · 1 year

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Phffffft, new fic idea. Tentatively named Do as Romans had Done.

Inspired by Undercover Woes by Quiet_Shadow on Ao3

Basically, a space adventure with magic, space travels, humans-to-Cybertronians, farm life, cultural misunderstandings/shock, fake marriage, and sex holidays.

It’s where a Cyberformed!June gets extra children, a new body, a new (pretend) spouse, and has to deal with a whole new culture.

At the same time, so does Optimus. But at least he gets to keep his frame and this is first (pretend) spouse.

Smokescreen, ever the go-getter, rolls with it.

_____________

There’s planet with a sleeping Titan and thriving Cybertronian settlements. Tiny and rural compared to the very industrial city-states of Cybertron, but its people are out-and-about and well, especially in a planet that’s capable of supporting organic and mechanoid organisms.

The mecha here are surprised by this rag-tag group, especially the two mechs geared up with dense armature and in-built weaponry systems with an unarmed femme with three sparklings.

Someone had an empty cottage on their land. Housing for work until the next trading ship can take them away.

The community uses an “outdated” form of Neocybex. Orion had experience from the database, especially when workers studied older languages not just for academia but the ability to speak and write in ways that would be considered subversive and indecent.

Optimus is using part of his old alias: Orion to keep on the down low; just in case there’s Decepticon raiders in this sector of the universe, especially since the Great War is such a... distant thing to these mecha.

The community is side-eyeing Orion. June can’t communicate and seems very confused by a lot of things that should be common knowledge or innate, but he’s adamant that they’re married. Otherwise, they would have separated June and the kids from the mechs.

Since “Earth-is-Unicron” the kids have Other!heritage that followed their cyberization. They’re very small and sparkling-like. Raf can only toddle. Miko and Raf communicate by chirps, squeaks, and barks. Jack can speak, but his memory is very limited. It was a Huge Ordeal at first since Jack only knows his mom, while Miko and Raf are confused and terrified since Stranger-Danger is Strong in all three. Luckily, the Matrix soothed the trust pathway...

All of them are getting a crash course on farming and rural life. The kids having the time of their lives with all the animals, mud, trees, and other sparklings.

Optimus and Smokescreen confused and taken back by sheer range of edible food available. As well as by all the immense flavors and textures since they’re used to only liquid Energon. Jellied for special occasions. But mainly liquid diet. Smokescreen now understands when humans call themselves “foodies.”

Religion-wise: the Thirteen are venerated as deities and there are statues of each Prime with their associated Domains and Aspects. As well as holidays and celebrations, including sex festivals. The most important is two weeks long to properly dedicate each Prime. The one between Megatronus and Solus involves really potent aphrodisiacs and a chase to mimic the frenzy of Chaos claiming Creation.

Yes, in the festival there’s a lot of phallic food and desserts of spikes and valves. Sex workshops and crafts. Dildos and onaholes.

Meanwhile, the community takes stock of June’s strange armor and stranger mannerisms, her comfort in the far wilder parts of the Dark Forest, the talent she has with finding lost things, the oddness and rarity of children’s frames, and the overall consensus changes from the poor war trophies to Oh, Orion gotten himself a fae bride.

___________

June, trying to make casual conversation and practice Neocybex with one of the neighbors that swings by all the time: I miss driving a lot, especially in the rain.

The neighbor: Use some cuffs or rope. The fence is sturdy enough.

(Cue Orion getting ribbed for not letting June have her fun “driving” him.)

___________

The “return” of the Quint plushie since June made it during a craft session. Miko’s fondness for sea life is an understatement of a century. The smoll Seeker was screaming so excitedly on a datapad, so June made the creature fare more cuter.

Smokescreen screamed when he came out of the shower rack and saw the thing slither on the floor. Miko poked her head out from behind. It was large enough to hide her entire self. Smokey inwardly shivers as she Miko flaps the tentacles.

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murmurs-down-the-mississippi · 9 months

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AU FIC IDEA: War Of Two Worlds

Based on my previous 'Lackadaisy in OTL WW2 AU' post, this is basically how I think a piece of fiction in this AU could go. Essentially, it will be episodic between our cast, moving through their arcs and seeing how they interlink with on another as the story goes.

Setting: WW2 but an intelligent feline species live alongside humans. The story goes through the continental United States in 1942 to the Western European front in 1944.

Naming reasoning

1. Human and Feline worlds (may be methaphorical or literal) becoming unexpectedly intertwined as one descends into turmoil.

2. The Lackacats/Felines fighting a war both abroad and at home. Might cover themes of integration and a nod to the experiences of african-american communities serving in WW2 despite racism.

Story Arcs (Basic overview)

Most of these for the cast could be roughly guessed from this post. I don't have much ideas in terms of story beyond Rocky, Freckle, some rough inklings for Ivy, Wick, and Mitzi.

Rocky is a new recruit into a United States Air Force bomber squadron. While this story is not really too special amongst his peers, Rocky is the first feline to join an integrated crew. His arc will involve the bumpy ride of getting used to his new role and comrades, as well as slamming head-on the challenges of being the 'test dummy' for feline integration.

Freckle's arc is mainly composed of two topics: The dynamics of feline units and their human counterparts, misunderstandings and issues of inequality in management; and Freckle struggling with how to deal with relationships with others (including his girlfriend Ivy) in the chaotic circumstances of war.

Ivy brings integration onto the stage of American culture, acting with the support of Mitzi who leads a feline representation movement to increasing support.

Wick's just going to have periodic screentime on managing research on accomodating feline soldiers to huamn-oriented equipment. One idea on the question of cat ears in hepmets, is to have steel tophats with more internal padding and communication equipment depending on the role.

More content on this to come soon. I have a script for the opening for a tv show on this concept.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy ww2 au #lackadaisy au #rocky rickaby #wick sable #mitzi may #ivy pepper #calvin mcmurray #freckle mcmurray

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frosticenow · 2 years

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Fem!Bilbo Bagginshield

I absolutely love Fem!Bilbo (especially when she pretends to be male) fics. This is a list of some of the first fics I read with Fem!Bilbo. There were so many that I have read at this point that there will probably be a part 2 and a part 3 . . .

Let me know what your favourite Fem!Bilbo fics are!

Wear a Flower in Your Hair (You're Beautiful) by JackQuaker

[Podfic] An Eye For Quality read by kalakirya

Original version here: An Eye For Quality by Linelen (Linelenagain)

Fíli lived his life by an old dwarven proverb: when a fool drops a treasure, a wise man picks it up (it sounded better in the original khuzdul).

Bella Baggins never quite fit in the Shire. Perhaps she was made for the mountains, instead.

This story is so sweet. The way the dwarves care for Bella just hits you in the found family feels in the best way! Also I love a podfic. It lets me knit and listen to a fic.

The Seedling by Chrononautical (Tumblr)

In the course of her adventures, Bilbo finds herself pregnant. Without an offer of marriage from Thorin, she returns to the Shire to raise the child with the help of her family.

The King Under the Mountain is heartbroken that Bilbo chooses to leave Erebor, but he cannot blame her. Not after he tried to kill her. There was a time when she would have proposed marriage, but that time is clearly past. If all he can have of her are her letters, then he will be grateful for the missives.

Getting these two to talk just might take divine intervention. Or the intervention of a particularly interested child.

I absolutely love this story (and also everything written by this author in later ficrecs you will see them again). I cannot stop re-reading it. It once again has the unplanned pregnancy trop, which is one of my favourites. Also the way the issue of virtue and cultural misunderstandings works is just *insert meme of Pacha from The Emperor’s New Groove.*

Hurricanes in Hertford, Hereford, and Hampshire by 61Below

Bilbo was banished. That's it, the end. She wants nothing more to do with dwarves. Now all she needs to do is get back home, but there may be some complications along the way.

I think this might have been my first Fem!Bilbo fic I read. And then I was hooked!

The Mediator by Mynuet

"An adventure?" Billa Baggins, a respectable genteel hobbit of the Shire, shivered and tried to convince herself it was a shudder.

In which a perfectly proper not-so-young lady whistles her reputation down the wind and finds she really is her mother's daughter.

Really interesting sexual politics between the dwarves and hobbits.

Wear a Flower in Your Hair (You're Beautiful) by JackQuaker

A retelling of The Hobbit in which Bilbo is Bella and she can grow a beard when even male hobbits can't.A tale of growth, love and self acceptance.

Bella is so adorable and nice in this story and you just want nice things for her (which she does get!).

Fic Rec Note: If I have linked a story you wrote and you want me to:

a) remove it/links to your ao3 or tumblr,

b) add your ao3 or tumblr if I have not included it

PM me on tumbler.

Authors: @chrononautintraining

#tolkein #the hobbit #lotr #lord of the rings #bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #thorin/bilbo #bilbo baggins/thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #fem!bilbo #ficrec #fic recs #ficrecfridays

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rocket-our-baby · 9 months

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Unnecessary info about me || a/n disclaimers :

J || 26 | INFJ | pan | she/her they/them

Masterlist

Hi fellow lovely Rocket stans. I’m an artist/comic artist/illustrator by night and I’ve been in the gotg & Rocket x reader fandom since 2014. I read both romantic and platonic slash reader contents.

One shots is the format of fanfic I’m keen on reading and writing the most. The same goes for my comics (of another fandom). (Yes neurodivergent buddies) I also love reading headcanons, drabbles and imagines for Rocket and Rocket/reader.

But when I hv the time and energy I also enjoy savouring longer series. I just think I need to apply the same amount of love and energy to read the work as much as the writer wrote it with, so reading consumes much of my energy, despite it being one of my fav hobbies, so i need to be mentally prepared for longer works. That’s why I’ve been missing out on all the feasts out here why please give me focus and concentration to read a fanfic like pls

I love the galaxy and feel an immense power of it whenever I look at any pics of space and the sky. I feel the vastness and the depth of it, how nostalgic and reminiscing it is. Yes I’m an INFJ.

Rain sounds and thunderstorms help me sleep and soothe my mind.

I also love flowers and floral prints/patterns. I love the nature and all animals, especially huge dogs.

As stated in my bio I’ve been a very quiet Rocket stan for nearly a decade and never in my life did I even fathom the slightest possibility of me writing any x reader fics for him, despite having only a few to savour back in the old days, those I read again and again just to crave my selfish urge to make Rocket slightly happier in my memory (now seeing him laugh genuinely makes me wanna cry he’s too precious protect him at all cost). Plus Rocket is the only character in the entire universe whom I ship the reader with and whom I write x reader fics for lol dedication aye? (Will be posting sooner or later when I’m ready to be back on socials) (I stopped creating web comics anymore since like 4months ago cuz of my works being unauthorised reposted all the time,, tho I’ve been creating comics for a decade or so. but I’ll mainly post fanfics here, im still not ready to post any comics since the last incidents on Twitter in another fandom.)

(I might post my rather vast collection of Rocket merch I’ve collected over the years later in another post haha, just wanted to share the love w/ y’all lovelies. I’m honestly so glad to be back on Tumblr again tho I’ve been out of touch with any other SNS for a few years due to my deteriorating mental health, and tbh I’m not entirely ready for it so I’m not as active on Tumblr, but more as a fic enjoyer)

In most of my works Reader’s characteristics in the fic itself is mostly gn but I’m more comfortable using she/her pronouns for the reader. And it’s easier for me myself to imagine situations and dialogues between the two where the reader is comfortable w identifying herself as fem.

But generally I use the second POV for reader insert hopefully to create a better reading experience.

I haven’t read all the Rocket x reader works here on Tumblr nor on AO3 yet, so please lmk if there’s any good fics/ if any of my written tropes overlaps with any of the others. I tend not to read once I started writing because of this exact reason to avoid any possible misunderstandings, yet I do want to read that’s why I haven’t been writing any fics for Rocket for the past 9 years. I also tend to write along a similar trope and I’m a rather water style writer that means the creations of mine are merely slices of the characters’ lives evoking feelings of nostalgia/reminiscence/aching/relishing/realisation/paradigm shift without particular events nor entailments.

English is not my native language so pls bear with me in case there’s anything weird (mostly w cultures/ word choice/ styles of writing). Hmmm possibly and hopefully not too much since I’ve been in the MCU fandom and film/ pop culture shits for over a decade and more. Just to be clear there’s no offence intended if there’s anything sensitive I touched upon/ any lines I crossed that I might be unaware of.

I’m honestly so so happy to be able to connect with you beautiful fellow Rocket stans and rocket x reader writers/ shippers. Please feel free to reach out or drop an ask if there’s anything! Have a lovely day y’all <3

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pumpkinpaix · 3 years

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mdzs fandom, diaspora, and cultural exchange

Hey everyone. This post contains a statement that’s been posted to my twitter, but was a collaborative effort between several diaspora fans over the last few weeks. Some of the specifics are part of a twitter-localized discourse, but the general sentiments and issues raised are applicable across the board, including here on tumblr.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ve probably seen a few of my posts about this fandom, cultural exchange, and diasporic identity. For example, here, here, and here. This statement more directly criticizes some of the general issues I and others have raised in the past, and also hopefully provides a little more insight into where those issues come from. I would be happy if people took the time to read and reblog this, as the thought that went into it is not trivial, and neither is the subject matter. Thank you.

Introduction

Hello. I'm a member of a Chinese diaspora discord server - I volunteered to try and compile a thread of some thoughts regarding our place and roles in the fandom expressed in some of our recent discussions. This was primarily drafted by me and reviewed/edited by others with the hopes that we can share a cohesive statement on our honest feelings instead of repeatedly sharing multiple, fragmented versions of similar threads in isolation.

This was compiled by one group of diaspora and cannot be taken to represent diaspora as a whole, but we hope that our input can be considered with compassion and understanding of such.

For context, we are referencing two connected instances: the conflict described in these two threads (here and here), and when @/jelenedra tweeted about giving Jewish practices to the Lans. Regarding the latter, we felt that it tread into the territory of cultural erasure, and that it came from a person who had already disrespected diaspora’s work and input.

Context

The Lans have their own religious and cultural practices, rooted both in the cultural history of China and the genre of xianxia. Superimposing a different religious practice onto the Lans amidst other researched, canonical or culturally accurate details felt as if something important of ours was being overwritten for another’s personal satisfaction. Because canon is so intrinsically tied to real cultural, historical, and religious practices, replacing those practices in a canon setting fic feels like erasure. While MDZS is a fantasy novel, the religious practices contained therein are not. This was uncomfortable for many of us, and we wanted to point it out and have it resolved amicably. We were hoping for a discussion or exchange as there are many parallels and points of relation between Chinese and Jewish cultures, but that did not turn out quite as expected.

What happened next felt like a long game of outrage telephone that resulted in a confusion of issues that deflected responsibility, distracted from the origin of the conflict, and swept our concern under the rug.

Specifically, we are concerned about how these two incidents are part of what we feel is a repeated, widespread pattern of the devaluing of Chinese fans’ work and concerns within this fandom. This recent round of discourse is just one of many instances where we have found ourselves in a position of feeling spoken over within a space that is nominally ours. Regardless of what the telephone game was actually about, the way it played out revealed something about how issues are prioritized.

Background

MDZS is one of the first and largest franchises of cmedia that has become popular and easily accessible outside of China. Moreover, it’s a piece of queer Chinese media that is easily accessible to those of us overseas. For many non-Chinese fans, this is the first piece of cmedia they have connected with, and it’s serving as their introduction to a culture previously opaque to them. What perhaps is less obvious is that for many Chinese diaspora fans, this is also the first piece of cmedia THEY have connected with, found community with, seen themselves in.

Many, many of us have a fraught relationship with our heritage, our language—we often suffer from a sense of alienation, both from our families and from our surrounding peers. For our families, our command of the language and culture is often considered superficial, clunky, childish. Often, connecting with our culture is framed as a mandatory academic duty, and such an approach often fosters resentment towards our own heritage. For our non-Chinese peers, our culture is seen as exotic and strange and other, something shiny and interesting to observe, while we, trapped in the middle, find ourselves uprooted and adrift.

MDZS holds an incredibly important place in many diaspora’s hearts. Speaking for myself, this is literally the first time in my life I have felt motivated and excited about my own native tongue. It's the first time I have felt genuine hope that I might one day be able to speak and read it without fear and self-doubt. It is also the first time that so many people have expressed interest in learning from me, in hearing my thoughts and opinions about my culture.

This past year and a half in fandom has been an incredible experience. I know that I am not alone in this. So many diaspora I have spoken to just in the last week have expressed similar sentiments about the place MDZS holds in their lives. It is a precious thing to us, both because we love the story itself, and because it represents a lifeline to a heritage that’s never felt fully ours to grasp.

It’s wonderful to feel like we are able to welcome our friends into our home and show them all these things that have been so formative to our identities, and to be received with such enthusiasm and interest. Introducing this to non-Chinese friends and fans has also been an opportunity to bridge gaps and be humanized in a way that has been especially important in a year where yellow peril fear mongering has been at an all-time high.

History

However, MDZS’ rise in popularity among non-Chinese audiences has also come with certain difficulties. It is natural to want to take a story you love and make it your own: that’s what transformative fandom is all about. It is also natural that misunderstandings and unintentional missteps might happen when you aren’t familiar with the ins and outs of the culture and political history of the story in question. This is understandable and forgivable—perfection is impossible, even for ourselves.

We hope for consideration and respect when we give our knowledge freely and when we raise the issue of our own discomfort with certain statements or actions regarding our culture. Please remember that what is an isolated incident to you might be a pattern of growing microaggressions to us. In non-Asian spaces, Asian diaspora are often lumped together under one umbrella. In the west, a lot of Chinese diaspora attach themselves to Korean and Japanese media in order to feel some semblance of connection to a media which approximates our cultures because there are cultural similarities. This is the first time we've collectively found community around something that is actually ours, so the specificities matter.

There is a bitterness about being Asian diaspora and a misery in having to put up a united front about racial issues. Enmity towards one group becomes a danger to all of us, all while our own conflicted histories with one another continue to pass trauma down through the generations. Many of us don’t even watch anime in front of our grandparents because of that lingering cultural antipathy. When the distinctions between our cultures are muddled, it feels once again like that very fraught history is flattened and forgotten.

Without the lived experience of it, it’s hard to understand how pervasive the contradictory web of anti-Asian and, more specifically, anti-Chinese racial aggressions are and how insidious its effects are. The conflation of China the political entity (as perceived and presented by the US and Europe) with its people, culture, and diaspora results in an exhausting litany of criticism levied like a bludgeon, often by people who don’t understand the complicated nature of a situation against those of us who do.

There is often a frankly stunning lack of self-awareness re: cultural biases and blind spots when it comes to discussions of MDZS, particularly moral ones. There are countless righteous claims and hot takes on certain aspects of the story, its author, and the characters that are so clearly rooted in a Euroamerican political and moral framework that does not reflect Chinese cultural realities and experiences. Some of these takes have become so widespread they are essentially accepted as fanon.

This is a pattern of behavior within the fandom. It is not limited to any specific group, nor does it even exclude ourselves—we are, after all, not a monolith, and we should not be placed on pedestals to have our differing opinions weaponized against one another in fandom squabbles. We are not flawless in our own understandings and approaches, and we would appreciate it if others would remember this before using any of us as ultimate authorities to settle a personal score.

It is difficult not to be disheartened when enthusiastic interest crosses the line into entitled demand and when transformative work crosses into erasure, especially when the reactions to our raised concerns have so frequently been dismissive and hostile. The overwhelming cultural and emotional labor we bring to the table is often taken advantage of and then criticized in bad faith. We are bombarded with racist aggressions, micro and macro, and then met with ridicule and annoyance when we push back. Worse, we sometimes face accusations of hostility that force us to apologize, back down, and let the matter go.

When we bring up our issues, it usually seems to come with the expectation that there are other issues that should be addressed before we can address ours. It feels like it’s never really the time to talk about Asian issues.

On the internet and in fandom spaces, Western-coded media, politics and perspectives are assumed to be general knowledge and experience that everyone knows and has. It feels like a double standard that we are expected to know the ins and outs of western politics and to engage on these terms, but most non-Chinese have not even the slightest grasp of the sort of politics that are at play within our communities. We end up feeling used for our specialized knowledge and cultural background and then dismissed when our opinions and problems are inconvenient.

As the culture represented in MDZS is not a culture that most non-Chinese fans are familiar with, we’d like to remind you that you do not get to decide which parts of it are or are not important. While sharing this space with Chinese diaspora who have a close connection to the work and the painful history that goes along with being diaspora, we ask that you be mindful of listening to our concerns.

Cultural erasure is tied to a lot of intense historical and generational trauma for us that maybe isn't immediately evident: the horrors of the Pacific theatre, the far-reaching consequences of colonization, racial tensions both among ourselves and with non-Chinese etc. These are not minor or simple things, and when we talk about our issues within fandom, this is often what underlies them. This is one of the first and only places many of us have been able to find community to discuss our unique issues without feeling as if we’re speaking out of turn.

With the HK protests, COVID, the anti-Chinese platforms of the US election etc., anti-Chinese sentiment has been at the forefront of the global news cycle for some time now, and it is with complete sincerity that we emphasize once again how important MDZS fandom has been as a haven for humanizing and valuing Chinese people through cultural exchange.

Experiencing racial aggression within that space stings, not just because it’s a space we love, but because it feels like we’ve been swimming in rapidly rising racial aggression for over a year at this point.

Feelings

This is a difficult topic to broach at the best of times, and these are not the best of times. Many of us have a wariness of rocking the boat instilled in us from our upbringings, and it is not uncommon for us to feel like we should be grateful that people want to engage with something of ours at all. When we do decide to speak up, we’ve learned that there is a not insignificant chance that we’ll be turned on and trampled over because what we’ve said is inconvenient or uncomfortable. When it is already so difficult to speak up, we end up second-guessing and gaslighting ourselves into wondering whether there really was a problem at all.

We’d like to be able to share what we know about our culture and have our knowledge and experience be taken seriously and treated with courtesy. This is a beautiful, rich world built with the history of our ancestors, one that we too are trying to connect with. When we find it in ourselves to speak up about it, we would appreciate being met with consideration instead of hostility.

We don't have the luxury of stepping away from our culture when we get tired of it. We don't get to put it down and walk away when it’s difficult. But if you're not Chinese or Chinese diaspora, you get to put this book down—we'd like to kindly request that you put it down gently because of how much it matters to all of us in this fandom, regardless of heritage.

What we are asking for is reflection and thoughtfulness as we continue to engage with this work and with one another, especially with regards to how Chinese issues are positioned. When we raise issues of our own discomfort, please take a moment to reflect before reacting defensively or trying to shut us down for spoiling the fun—don’t deprioritize our concerns, especially in a fandom for a piece of Chinese media. We promise most of us are not trying to start shit for the sake of a fight. Most of the time, all we want is acknowledgement and a genuine attempt at understanding.

Our hope with this statement is to encourage more openness and understanding between diaspora and non-Chinese fans while we navigate this place that we’re sharing. Please remember that for many of us, MDZS is far more intense than a typical fandom experience. Remember that the knowledge we have and research we do is freely and happily given, and that it costs us both materially and emotionally. Please don’t take that for granted. Remember too that sometimes the reason for our discomfort may not be immediately evident to you: what seems culturally neutral and harmless might touch upon specific loaded issues for us. We ask for patience, and we ask for sincerity as we try to communicate with one another.

We are writing this because there’s a collective sense of imposed silence—that every time the newest round of discourse crops up, we often feel as if we’re walking away having created no meaningful change, and nursing new wounds that we’ll never get to address. But without speaking up about it, this is a cycle that will keep repeating.

This is not meant to shame or guilt the fandom into throwing themselves at our feet, either to thank us or beg for forgiveness—far from that. We’re just your friends and your fellow fans. We are happy to have you here, and we’re happy to create and share and play together. We just ask to be respected and heard.

Thank you. Thank you for listening. Several of us will be stepping back from twitter for a while. We’ll see you when we get back. ❤️

* A final addendum: here are two articles with solid practical advice on writing stories regarding a culture other than your own.

Cultural Appropriation for the Worried Writer: Some Practical Advice

Cultural Appropriation: Some More Practical Advice

The thread on twitter is linked in the source of this post. Thanks everyone.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #the untamed #the untamed meta #cql #asian diaspora #chinese diaspora #race #racism #mine #mymeta #once again my tag failing me because this is a collaborative work #but! for the sake of organization #statistically average #cultural appropriation #cultural erasure #what else do i tag this im so wired

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gemstoneconstellations · 4 years

Note

omgggg can you share ur list of things you’ve read ? 😭 i feel like i’ve hit rock bottom thinking i’ve read everything

Alright, here we go, these are a few of my favorite reader-inserts I have saved on my AO3:

Multi Ships (collection of one shots/love triangles)

Dear Diary: Bakugo VS Midoriya VS Todoroki. Reader had her heart broken by Bakugo, moves on and develops feelings for Midoriya that might be mutual?, and now Bakugo likes reader but is a fucking dick about it and Midoriya is an oblivious green bean. Meanwhile Todoroki is just a sweety, acting like a real friend and being there for reader during the drama (that he sometimes causes). Angst alert, just pure angst. I love it as much as i want to pull out all my hair cause of these idiot children. (Wordcount: 77415 Status: Incomplete)

The Void You Left Behind: Past Kirishima/Reader, Bakugo/Reader. Reader was married to Kirishima who sadly died while on the job. Bakugo and reader mourn together and help each other to move on. The grief in this was so realistic and well done, you will feel like you were hit by a truck. I cried and had to take breaks. (Wordcount: 71016 Status: Complete)

Million Reasons: Past Bakugo/reader, Midoriya/Reader. Bakugo and reader were married, but Bakugo (a total dick) cheats on reader and was abusive towards reader who ends up leaving him, changing jobs, and now working for the current number one hero Deku. Warning: Domestic violence, abusive and manipulative behavior. (Wordcount: 55693 Status: Incomplete)

MULT-FANDOM COLLECTION (my-american-hero): Multiple story collection, not just bnha. Author’s tumblr account.

BNHA College Reader Inserts series: 5 works, all in college. Really like the Bakugo/Reader centric fics in this one, reader doesn’t take his shit. (Wordcount total of all works: 62691 Status: Series incomplete, but only one of the works isn’t complete.)

Baby no Hero Academia: Multiple stories of our favorite characters being parents. (Wordcount: 72822 Status: incomplete)

My Hero Academia Images: multi story collection. If you like these, look at the other works by this author. Some are choose your own route stories with different endings for each ship. (Wordcount: 240426 Status: incomplete)

My hero academia one-shots!: smutty and fluffy one shots with multiple characters. (Wordcount: 155424 Status: complete)

Boku no Hero Academia One-Shots/Imagines~! (lady-Bakuhoe): one-shot collection. Didn’t realize right away that I had been reading lady-bakuhoe’s stuff for months on AO3. (Wordcount: 39963 Status: complete)

Ship Centric:

Bakugo/Reader

Bakugou, Katsuki ( Alpha!Bakugou ; Omegaverse )(AO3 Link) (Tumblr Link): Smut one-shot, omegaverse, alpha/omega, daddy kink. (Wordcount: 5087)

Wolves Among Us: I’m pretty sure everyone knows this one, still putting it down. Werewolf!Bakugo x Human!Reader, Fantasy AU. (Wordcount: 334465 Status: Incomplete)

Bakugou Household: Domestic Bakugo just being the best dad. (Wordcount: 37867 Status: incomplete)

Types of Love: A bunch of one-shots about different types of love with Bakugo as the center subject. (Wordcount: 10243 Status: Complete)

Sex is a learning, even for shitheads.: Porn with Plot. Focuses on the evolution of the relationship between reader and Bakugo and their sex lives together, from first learning how to do the sex and controlling quirks during to exploring kinks, likes and dislikes. (Wordcount: 73453 Status: Complete)

Speak (Katsuki Bakugou x Reader): Soulmate Au- first words tattooed on body. Reader isnt too thrilled about the resident gremlin of 1-A is her soulmate. Smut included. (Wordcount: 153848 Status: Complete)

Knockout: I just started this one today, but I like it so far. Underground kickboxer au, kickboxer!Bakugo meets card girl!reader. (Wordcount: 85297 Status: complete)

His Tyranny: Fantasy au. Barbarian King Bakugo is power hungry, looking for anything to boost his strength, takes reader, a girl with a strong and dangerous magical ability, from the tower she was locked away in. (Wordcount: 76038 Status: complete)

Dakimakura: Bakugo develops a crush. Porn with plot. (Wordcount: 48657 Status: Complete)

Secret Admirer: Reader leaves Bakugo love letters. Things get steamy when reader gets caught. (Wordcount: 2278 Status: complete)

Kirishima/Reader

How to get a boyfriend?: Reader is Bakugo’s little sister and wants a boyfriend, she has her eyes set on her brother’s manly best friend. (Wordcount: 22431 Status: complete)

A Helping Hand (author’s tumblr https://thetrashyartwitch.tumblr.com/): No quirk au. Reader wants to better herself by going to the gym and develops a crush on Kirishima who was just being himself and being kind to reader. This gets a gold star from me, I read this over and over and I still love it so much. (Wordcount: 5707 Status: complete, one-shot)

Rising Sun (Btw, don’t bug the author about updating, they already get hounded about this one and other fics. The wait will be worth it.): Fantasy au and arrange marriage between princess!reader and dragon!Kirishima. Reader is in an entirely new environment and culture, getting to know her new kingdom and husband. (Wordcount: 14667 Status: incomplete)

Crimison|Ink (Kirishima x Reader) : I know I posted about this one before, but I will post about this again. I read this so many times, I have it downloaded on my phone to read offline. I don’t even know where to begin to describe this one, I just love it so much and can’t wait for it to come back. I don’t want to say I have a favorite, cause I love all of these… but if I had to choose *cough* this one *cough*. Summary: “Kirishima and his band of heavily tattooed brothers own and run a very well known tattoo shop together. One day a girl wonders into the shop in search of a tattoo to mark the start of her new life. Soon enough she’ll learn that this ‘family’ business is more than just buzzing tattoo guns and ink, and finds herself caught up in the middle of it, all while having to deal with a certain sharp-toothed pain in the ass.” Warning: violence, blood and gore, toxic past relationships. (Wordcount: 119179 Status: incomplete)

Oranges: Omegaverse, alpha!female!Reader/Omega!Kirishima. Mutual pining childhood friends who are oblivious towards each other’s feelings while everyone notices. (Wordcount: 19695 Status: Complete)

Anger Management: smut one-shot, reader is pissed about something at work and uses Kirishima to get rid of the rage by riding him till she’s no longer angry. (Wordcount: 1509 Status: Complete)

The Pizza Delivery Guy: Modern and College Au. Reader’s roommate Mina puts in to send the cutest delivery boy over. Best customer service experience ever. Pure fluff and flirting. Wanna see more. (Wordcount: 1607 Status: Complete)

Better Late Than Never: Dumb dumbs pining over each other both thinking they are just friends. (Wordcount: 2996 Status: complete)

Boyfriend Me: Short and simple, i live for the fluff and awkward kirishima. Accidental confessions and lack of words when around your crush. (Wordcount: 701 Status: complete)

The Heat of a Dragon: Pure smut with fantasy dragon!kirishima… who has two dicks. (Wordcount: 2464 Status: Complete)

All in his head: Reader has a mind reading quirk and Kirishima has a surprisingly dirty mind, sexy times ensues. (Wordcount: 1415 Status: Complete)

Fatgum/Reader (warning: all are smut fics)

First Time: This was my first fatgum fic I ever read and it’s still one of my top faves. Reader and Fatgum finally take steps into becoming intimate. Fluffy porn with plot. Size difference, totally a size queen’s go to fic. (Wordcount: 5394 Status: complete)

Sugar : Another first time fic, this time with a baker!reader in the middle of her kitchen. Size difference. (Wordcount: 6241 Status: Complete)

Dine and Dash: Celebratory public sex. (Wordcount: 2883 Status: complete)

Brick Walls are Great Support: Public sex in an alleyway. (Wordcount: 3006 Status: complete)

Drizzle: Valentine’s day sexy times with food. (Wordcount: 3017 Status:Complete)

Temporary: Omegaverse, Omega!reader goes to a heat/rut house and meets alpha!Fatgum. (Wordcount: 3367 Status: Complete)

Not a typical Office Romance: office sexy times. (Wordcount: 2006 Status: complete)

Midoriya/Reader

Warmth of You: collection of Deku/reader one-shot smuts. I actually love this author a lot, does some of the best bottom Bakugo fics I have ever read. If you like bakudeku, check out their other works.

“Just Friends” : Jealous Midoriya doesn’t like being called just friends and reminds the reader that they are way more. Smut. (Wordcount: 3492 Status: complete)

Sero/Reader

Hero Santa: Best friends become something more during movie night in a blanket fort. Fluffy smut that makes me smile. (Wordcount: 4936 Status: complete)

Hoodie [SeroxReader]: post-break up, the only thing left behind was one of Sero’s hoodies that Reader still wears. Angst. (Wordcount: 3284 Status: complete)

Sour. Sweet. Gone.: no quirk and college au. Sero and reader are both pining idiots who go from friends to enemies to lovers. (Wordcount: 10448 Status: complete)

Tape residue: fluff smut, friends to lovers. Sero misread some signals but it all ends well. (Wordcount: 3410 Status: Complete)

A Seronade of Misunderstandings: Sero plans the most romantic and cheesy way for the first time but reader thinks his secretive behavior means he’s cheating. (Wordcount: 3420 Status: Complete)

#kirishima x reader #kirishima ejirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #sero hanta x reader #sero x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #fatgum x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader

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bigbadredpanda · 4 years

Note

Hi Panda, would you happen to know what the Chinese fandom consensus on Madam Lan's backstory is? The consensus in English fandom seems to be that she was a victim of the Lan sect & abused by Qinheng-jun, but before I saw that I thought her and Qinheng-jun and the Lan sect had a misunderstanding, like wangxian in the cave vs the Lan elders after Nightless City, that sort of thing? The difference is so huge I need like an extra 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 50th opinion haha

Hi there! Mmn yes, it’s an interesting question, that part of the story is left ambiguous and led to a lot of speculation. I don’t think there’s really a consensus whether on the Chinese side or the international side. However, I’m not sure we can qualify what happened with Madam Lan and Wei Wuxian a misunderstanding. In my opinion, it’s more a difference of morality. What they did was justified from their perspective while in the eyes of others they have committed a grave crime.

Let’s look at the facts or at least what we assume to be facts.

Qingheng-Jun was a well-known and well-respected young man with a promising future ahead of him but he threw that away when he suddenly decided to marry and live in seclusion at a young age (弱冠之龄 according to the novel, the age when one receives during a coming of age ceremony the crown-like ornament men wore in their hair. It was historically 20 years old but MXTX lowered it to 15 in her setting to have the characters using courtesy names. I’m assuming that Qingheng-Jun is still meant to be 20. Anyway, brief digression). On his way home from a night hunt, he supposedly fell in love at first sight with a woman. However, that woman did not return his affect and killed his master. It’s unclear if that happened after their meeting or before. To protect her from reprisal from his Sect, Qingheng-Jun brought her to the Cloud Recesses in secret and performed with her the three bows that bound them together in marriage. Then, as an act of penance, he went in seclusion and locked away his wife in a separate cottage. That union eventually led to the birth of two sons. (Ch.64)

Of course, the big question is why did she kill Qingheng-Jun’s master? I use master because the term used here is 恩师, an honorific for an esteemed teacher towards whom the student feels grateful for his tutelage. The answer to that question is given by Lan Xichen:

“我不知，但想来无非‘恩怨是非’四个字罢了。”

“I do no know but it is assumed that it came down to a ‘dispute over a past grievance’.

This is fascinating as it explains everything and nothing. 是非 is literally ‘right and wrong’, the two characters together can mean ‘quarrel’. 恩怨 is also made up of the juxtaposition of two characters with opposite meanings, ‘gratitude and grudges’ (the same character 恩 is used in the teacher honorific above). It’s a concept rooted in Chinese culture that features particularly prominently in wuxia/xianxia genres where the notions of justice and honour are core precepts. This term designates old scores that need settling, a debt that has to to be repaid sometimes tenfold. To put it simply, when someone does you or your family a favour, you have a debt of gratitude toward them. When someone wrongs you or your family, you develop a grudge towards them out of deep-seated enmity.

Wei Wuxian is the prime example of this, he went to great lengths to return the kindness he was shown by the Yunmeng Jiang Sect and by the Wen siblings. To him, it’s a moral imperative, he was duty-bound to do so just like he was duty-bound to take revenge against the Qishan Wen Sect.

It’s this same concept that motivates other characters in the story. For instance, Wen Zhuliu’s steadfast loyalty stems from a debt of gratitude (知遇之恩), Wen Ruohan recognised his worth and accepted him within the Wen Clan (hence why he changed his name to Wen) and he cannot leave that debt unpaid (Ch.62). Xue Yang repays the grudge he held against Chang Cian tenfold by exterminating the entire Yueyang Chang Sect (Ch.30).

Coming back to Madam Lan. I’ve seen some speculation from Chinese fans about the origin of that ‘grievance’ between her and Qingheng-Jun’s master. Because of the age gap between them, it is surmised that this is something that happened one generation back. Perhaps he brought harm or even killed Madam Lan’s elder, parent or teacher. It was a duty for Qingheng-Jun to bring her to justice and see about that her crime did not go unpunished. Depending on the gravity of the situation, he might have been well within his rights to kill her himself in retaliation. Instead of pursuing that cycle of revenge, he took another path that protected the woman he loved but also punished the one who had killed his master. Because he went against the Gusu Lan Sect by marrying her in secret, his penitence is to live in seclusion, separate from her and from the affairs of his Sect.

In the Chinese fandom, it is assumed that Madam Lan must have been a woman with impressive skills if she managed to kill a Gusu Lan Sect elder. Did she resist capture from Qingheng-Jun and was forcibly taken to the Cloud Recesses? Did she resign herself to her fate and accepted being confined as punishment? Did she comply and eventually grew fond of the man who became her husband? We don’t know but Lan Xichen remembers his mother as a gentle person who never voiced a complaint about her own situation.

The exact circumstances are shrouded with mystery but most meta and fics I’ve read in the Chinese fandom tend to be of the opinion that love eventually developed between Qingheng-Jun and Madam Lan. But of course, that’s the way we would rather have. What is sure is that this was a tragic ending for all parties involved, including the children left behind.

I’ve also learnt something very very interesting from the meta I’ve read concerning the gentians growing near Madam Lan’s cottage. We know that MXTX has paid special attention to flower meanings with the peony that Wei Wuxian threw to Lan Wangji in Yiling (Ch.71). The flower's alternative name is 将离花, flower of impending separation or flower for saying goodbye soon, a peony can be a parting gift between lovers or would-be lovers forced apart and can have the undertones of "Will you be with me before we part?", "Will you wait for me?" In the audio drama, it’s made clear that Wei Wuxian knew the intended meaning before offering Lan Wangji the flower. Well, due to their bitter roots, in the Chinese flower language, gentians stand for 爱上忧伤的你. Which is. Wheeze. “You’re beautiful in your melancholy.”

In the end, Qingheng-Jun and Madam Lan‘s story is used in the novel to act as a foil to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s relationship. In the past, Lan Wangji also wished to bring Wei Wuxian to the Cloud Recesses and hide him away there. But he couldn’t bring himself to because Wei Wuxian was ‘not willing’ (Ch.72). Interestingly, this story is also framed to contrast with Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao who are sworn brothers. Remember that it’s Lan Xichen himself that recounts his parents’ story to Wei Wuxian after they have found evidence of Jin Guangyao’s treachery. Just like his father before him, he is torn between personal feelings and his duty to his sect, two conflicting allegiances. When he is asking Wei Wuxian’s opinion of whether his father did was right, what would have been the right thing to do, he is also looking for an answer for himself. Lan Wangji had made his own choice at the aftermath of the Nightless City massacre. He protected Wei Wuxian and brought him back to Burial Mounds, he took responsibility for injuring his Sect’s elders by returning to the Cloud Recesses and accepting being flayed by the discipline whip. He managed to reconcile personal devotion and his family/Sect duties with his own principles and harbours no regret.

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs meta #answers #kumipen

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cupcakemolotov · 3 years

Text

At Horizon’s Edge

I promised @lalainajanes a space fic sometime before Covid, so that could have been two years ago or three, who can remember anymore, but here it is. I hope you enjoy it!

You can read the story at A03 here if you prefer!

Synopsis: Sometimes when a girl goes on a shopping trip to pick up a new pair of boots at the local, and somewhat hostile, human space station, she accidentally aids and abets a prison break instead. What happens in the black really doesn't stay in the black.

Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate Universe - Space; Alternate Universe - Fantasy; Alternate Universe - Soulmates; Alien Cultural Differences; Alien Technology; Werewolves; Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known; Werewolves in Space; Werewolf!Klaus; Alien!Caroline; Mostly Alien at Least; prison break; Accidental Rescue; Some Gore; Non-OTP Charachter Death; Found Family

Caroline slid into her pilot’s chair just as the comm on her dash beeped for an incoming transmission. Glancing over at the seat where her co-pilot sat, Enzo gave her a grim look. He didn’t agree to her plan, and she didn’t blame him. She wasn’t usually given to bouts of insanity but every day in space was a new one, and sometimes life tossed surprises at you with the impact of live grenades.

“Five minutes until gate clearance.” He paused and then sighed, rolling his shoulders with a reluctant acceptance. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

So did she.

Five minutes was an eternity when facing the guns of the space station they had just left. Named after a moon in the humanities home solar system, Titan was one of the few remaining stations that still traded directly with Earth. They were also very proud that they maintained the largest population of pure blooded humans outside of Earth Solar System, even by Earth’s exacting standards of what was considered human these days.

If she’d cared to check, the history logs on her computer would tell her all about the wars that had nearly decimated Earth and its colonized planets, of the laws that banned anyone who carried alien DNA in their veins. The justifications of a world terrified by how humanity could change in the cold void of space and their desperate, grasping fingers trying to avoid change.

Caroline had long since stopped caring about earth’s collective opinions, and the stars cared not all about the blood in your veins. Not all of humanity bent to fear, the far flung colonies that still lingered though they’d been abandoned by their home world. They’d learned to adapt, to change. There were wonders and nightmares in space that Earth could never imagine, but right then, none of that was particularly helpful.

What she cared about was getting out of Titan’s airspace as quickly as possible without getting blown to bits. The conversation she needed to have to do that would require her to be very, very careful. Blowing out a breath, Caroline hit accept.

Half a heart beat later, and the familiar eyes of Marshal Tyler Lockwood popped up on her screen. He looked worn, older than the last time she had seen him. The thick black of his hair had faded to more gray than the salt and pepper she remembered from their last conversation, and the creases in his forehead, and at the corner of his eyes, were a sign of his human heritage more than any of the military patches on his uniform.

Old. He had started to look so old.

“Marshall Lockwood,” Caroline said, tucking away any hint of sorrow. “This is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He grimaced, his face telling her exactly what he thought of either of them enjoying this call. Her ex-lover did not enjoy being reminded of their past, which was why she made a point to do it every time he initiated one of these little catch ups. A little pettiness always did wonders for her mood.

“Forbes. You’re leaving early.” He looked down, the line between his brows deepening as he clearly checked something on his tablet. “We had expected your stay at the station to last for another 48 standard hours.”

Brows arched, Caroline tipped her head to the side and studied him. “I wasn’t aware that you were watching my flight plans so closely.”

A hint of derision entered his eyes. “You are dangerous, Forbes. I keep an eye on dangerous things.”

She was dangerous. But not in ways that Tyler could plan against, and they both knew to target her specifically because of her heritage went against a dozen interstellar laws. His team could enforce station laws while she was standing on it, but here, on her ship, minutes from making a FTL jump, what she did should have been of no concern to them. This wasn’t space owned strictly by humanity, where it could control its population down to its DNA.

Tyler was walking a fine line.

Smiling, she settled a bit more comfortably in her chair. “Awe, that’s so sweet of you. Being so concerned about your people. I think you’d be more relieved to see the back of my ship than making demands to justify why I would leave when we both know you're not entitled to that information.”

His mouth tightened at her jab. “Generally that would be the case but you’re predictable. This breaks your usual pattern, and that gives me cause for suspicion.”

She shook her head in false exasperation, deliberately misunderstanding him. “My personal life is none of your business, remember? You made that choice decades ago, no reason to get sentimental now in your final few years.”

Her words were below the belt, but Caroline had never really been able to help herself where he was concerned. Walking away from her, walking away from the future they had been building together had hurt. Decades had softened the sting, but some scars still bled.

“I wasn’t asking for personal reasons.” His words were clipped, the edges sharp and cutting.

She laughed. “Such lies you tell. But there isn’t anything dramatic about my departure, Tyler. Your collection of goods suck right now. Did someone piss off High Command again? Would it honestly kill you to announce it when you have trade-shortfalls? Manifests exist for a reason, you know, and it’s such a waste that your ‘council’ won’t let anyone bring in additional goods. Seriously, I could have avoided this whole trip and it would have saved me some time and docking fees.”

Absently, she wondered if his jaw got stuck like that these days, clenched down on a brutal line that left the muscle jumping tautly. “You expect me to believe you couldn’t find the correct dress size so you decided to ignore two days of your itinerary? I know you better than that.”

Caroline scoffed. “Actually, you don’t know me, Tyler. It’s been fifty years since we last had a conversation that didn’t involve us insulting each other. Your personal opinions about my love of a well organized schedule are outdated.” The lie slipped easily from her tongue, and next to her Enzo rolled his eyes. She flipped him off, just outside of view of the camera. “My irritation at the lack of proper boot sizes available aside, you’re not usually this pushy. You want to tell me what’s really going on? And why you need a scapegoat?”

Tyler’s jaw turned to stone for a long moment, and she forced herself to appear bored. Every moment he delayed was another that they crept closer to their escape. He finally unlocked it enough to speak, words harsh. “We had a prison break.”

She didn’t have to fake her surprise, brows arching high at both his reluctant admittance and what it meant. Very, very few people knew that Titan had an advanced and secure prison system. Dear Old Earth had always enjoyed making its problems vanish, and Titan was one such place they used to keep their hands clean. Those shipments from Earth of goods and perishables that made Titan so popular as a trade station came with a dirty secret: in the belly of those ships were people. Political prisoners, murders, terrorists, inconvenient witnesses who needed to disappear. Titan housed them all. Some would be kept in the cold bowls of the station and others shipped off to one of the max-prisons deep in the black of space.

None of them ever escaped.

That Titan was a prison was a dirty little secret and not one that could be allowed to get out. But such secrets, buried in metal and technology, were very hard to hide from her. Tyler knew it, though he was bound to keep some of her secrets. As she was bound to keep the worst of his.

“You don’t lose people.” Caroline said slowly. “What happened?”

“He had help.”

Brows coming together at the word ‘he’, she frowned. “And now you want me to find him.”

Tyler’s face could have been carved from stone. “No, Caroline. I want to know if he is aboard your ship.”

Next to her, Enzo lifted three fingers in her peripheral vision. They’d only been talking for two minutes and it’d felt like twenty.

“Tyler, that’s far fetched even for you. I don’t let random people on my ship. You know that.” She didn’t have to fake the bitterness in the curve of her lips. “If I remember correctly, it was a major point of contention in our relationship.”

He ignored her, only the flex of his jawline a sign that her words had hit home. “I want to board your ship.”

“Absolutely not,” Caroline said flatly. “You have no grounds.”

“I have more than enough circumstantial evidence.” He spread his hand in her view, eyes like flint, shoulders square. “We scanned your ship, and while there are only three bodies registering onboard, we both know you have the capability to hide someone.”

She arched a brow. “That’s a violation of at least three treaties, Tyler.”

Marshall Lockwood didn't seem bothered by that. “I also know that there are at least two smuggling compartments on your ship that are capable of housing a human for short periods of time without them suffering from asphyxiation.”

There were now four compartments, and all of them could hide people for up to four hours without risking asphyxiation but were rarely used for such purposes. Smuggling people was difficult, goods were safer. Goods didn’t talk about ships and captains and give people ideas. But there were some things she couldn’t stomach, and sometimes a girl needed to be prepared.

But Tyler didn’t know that.

It’d been fifty years since she’d let him step foot on her ship. And unfortunately for him, she was hardly the only crew member with secrets. Smuggling had brought such interesting bedfellows into her life, and she’d violate more than three treaties to keep them safe. But her ex didn’t need to know that, and none of it would save her, if he opened fire at her. The point blank range of those canons would destroy her and everyone who would be caught in the crossfire.

Right then, Tyler was a problem and she could show no weakness.

“Circumstantial evidence of what exactly? “ she tilted her head and let scorn drip along her words. “That your super secret prison had an escapee and I am conveniently close to blame? That is ridiculous and we both know it.”

“You’re a Tech Witch.”

Next to her, Enzo tensed at the derogatory term and Caroline let her smile sharpen. Her mother’s blood wasn’t an unknown quality of hers, but saying so here, on this channel with who knows how many witnesses, put him perilously close to breaking the agreements that bound them both.

“Marshall, my ship cleared your security systems ten minutes ago. We accepted the standard cargo check before we left the docking bay, and I am told they were very thorough. Other than requiring a scapegoat in the form of my non-human DNA for whatever inside job you're attempting to cover up, you have nothing.” She nodded when he remained silent. “You have nothing.”

Something beeped, and he glanced down. When he glanced up, nothing had shifted on his face. “I could request you return to the docking bay or face the canons, Forbes.”

Caroline shook her head. It was a threat, but here, for now, she had the upper hand. This kind of PR move for humanity would be costly, but Tyler didn’t worry about those decisions. But him, personally, and the blackmail she had?

“We both know why you won’t.”

The skin near his eyes visibly tightened and she let her smile dimple. They both knew her death would act as a trigger for a number of unpleasant consequences for Tyler. What bound them was contractual, but she had never trusted him to do more than keep the letter of the law, and today had proved she’d been correct in her assessment. If he could have violated the spirit of their contract, he would have. Lucky for her, he couldn’t. Tyler’s secrets could destroy everything he had worked to build in his life, and even now, less than a decade or two from his death, he wouldn’t risk her ruining him.

Her previous lover had always been a coward when it counted. Earth had its enemies, and so did Titan, and she knew almost all of them. Today might cost her, but it could cost him far more.

Letting her knowledge show on her face, she showed her teeth. “Do you even want to tell me who it is that you lost that has you so desperate?”

There was a long, long silence as he stared at her and she just waited. Time was on her side now, the clock burning down. In the back of her head, she counted down.

Sixty seconds. Fifty-five. So close.

The gleam behind Tyler’s eyes turned calculating, and he dropped the name as if it was supposed to mean something, as if it was supposed to bring the weight of her guilt crashing down on her shoulders. “Klaus Mikaelson.”

Caroline just stared at him in surprise; she hadn’t expected him to tell her. The ghosts between her and Tyler faded a little more every year. Humanity might have extended their lifespans as far as they could be stretched, but they would never match those whose DNA held the remnants of long lived, non-human races. Soon Tyler would be one of the few living memories left from the single year of her life she had spent planetside.

Klaus Mikaelson was another.

Gathering her thoughts, Caroline shook her head, forcing herself to focus. “If he is alive, he should be nearing a century on a planet with less medical knowledge than your Station. He should be either senile or dead.” She pushed back a loose strand of hair that slid into her face, the pale gold as much as her mother’s blood as her fathers. “Out of all of us, I’m the only one cursed, remember?”

Next to her, Enzo made a grunting noise of disagreement, his disapproval clear. She waved a hand at him. Her hidden clenched fist relaxed as Enzo bared his teeth but started the sequence to activate the first of what was going to be several jumps. Right then, she didn’t care how much he hated Tyler. They’d be harder to trace once they arrived at the major traffic lanes, but first they had to make it. She didn’t dare take her eyes away from her screen.

Tyler sighed, the sound deep and an echo that caught in her chest. His dark eyes creased, and for the first time the Tyler she’d once known peaked at her from behind the Marshall. “You’ve never been gifted at lying, Caroline.”

She laughed at him, the sound bitter. “No, Tyler. You’ve just never believed me when I spoke truly. I was never your enemy.”

His face told her that he didn't believe her. He never had. “I won’t forget this, Caroline. When we prove that you helped, and we will prove it, not even your precious interstellar laws will be able to protect you.”

The call ended just as their clearance to enter the gate came through. Caroline cut the open line, and immediately started backtracking through her systems to make sure that Tyler hadn’t tried to leave her a present. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Earth, and it’s subjects, tended to see laws as flexible when it suited them.

The initial scrub didn’t take long, she’d never skimped on security and her ship did not endure itself to strangers programs, and the surface diagnosis came back clean. Jaw set, she triggered the deeper scrub that would erase the identifiers that they had used to dock at Titan.

She’d known she’d have to burn the remaining dregs of that life soon, but hadn’t expected it today. Better to make a clean cut, erase her existence here in Pure Human Space now than end up in the darkness of its prison, driven mad by the hum of machines she could hear but not touch.

“Ten seconds until FTL.”

Switching to her main screen, Caroline pulled up the screens to monitor their progress. Closing her eyes as the universe started to blur with the faster than light speed jump, she inhaled slowly and didn’t breathe again until the sound of space tearing around them drowned out the anxious rush of her heartbeat.

It took twenty minutes after they passed through the gate to clear enough space to make the first jump. They didn’t quite dare engage their cloaking device until they left the jump points. It took another precious half hour before they finally winked out of existence as far as radars were concerned. But the muscles along her spine didn't relax until Enzo finally gave her a nod.

“We’re clear. No one followed us, which means they didn’t have enough time to scramble a ship. We’ve got a sixty minute window before this airspace becomes too hot for us.”

Caroline laughed. “Good thing we won’t be here that long. Go ahead and start planning our next jump.”

Enzo tipped his head. “Are we sticking to our plan then?”

“For now. I don’t want to risk picking up a tail, and they won’t be able to follow us from here. As long as we stay out of Federation space, we should be okay for the short term.”

For now. If they were going to stay that way was entirely dependent on what exactly she had gotten them into. Grimacing a little, she hit the comm button. “Bonnie? Everything alright down there?”

There was a pause and then the droll voice of her closest friend came back over the mic. “So far everything is holding up. I did a fast scan once we cleared the gate, and I didn’t find any extra tech that might have been dropped in the ship.”

“Thanks, but we’re clean.” She pressed her hand against the panel, listening to the hum of engines and the computers that were as familiar to her as the back of her hands. The curious hum of its voice. “I’ll be down shortly to deal with our pickup.”

“Better you than me.”

Enzo leaned back, watching her with dark eyes as he waited for her to finish her conversation. “You sure this is what you want?”

Caroline snorted and unbuckled herself. “I think it's a little late for second guessing, don’t you?”

A shrug. “We could space him.”

She laughed, this one far more genuine. “If he threatens you or Bonnie, I promise, he’ll find himself ejected. But until then…”

Enzo crossed his arms, gaze dark. “You think he might know something about your mom.”

Eyes sliding shut, Caroline sighed. She wished she could have given him that as the reason, but it hadn’t been. Not then. Now… “I don’t know if anyone knows what happened to my mom.”

“Be careful, Gorgeous.” Enzo’s mouth tightened at the corners. “The past can make you bleed.”

She knew that far better than anyone should, but arguing with Enzo about unnecessary reminders wouldn’t get her anywhere. “Yeah.”

Tipping back into his chair, Enzo studied her. “I’ve still got a friend or two on that station. I could arrange it so Lockwood stops being such a problem.”

She shot him a look and he shrugged unrepentant. “He has no teeth.”

“Gorgeous, we both know that’s hardly the truth. He’s going to do his damndest to make your life difficult. Even if he sticks to your bargain until he dies, you’ve got nothing to protect you after his death.”

Caroline shook her head. “Legacy means everything to Tyler. I don’t think he’ll so easily let me ruin it.”

Enzo snorted but turned back to his computer. “I’ll make the next jump.”

Understanding it for the grumpy acceptance but not an approval that it was, Caroline lifted hand to acknowledge she heard him, and left the bridge. The door closed behind her, leaving her in the quiet corridors, only the sounds of her boots loud over the hum of the ship as she walked.

She wished she could explain her impulsive reaction to Enzo, wished she could find the words that gave her actions any kind of logic. Particularly since she couldn’t explain to herself.

Walking around the corner, she found Bonnie waiting on her. There was grease smeared on one cheek and her mouth was pulled into a frown. Sighing, Caroline rubbed her forehead. “Are you going to yell too?”

Bonnie seemed to consider that, the data pad she held tapping against her thigh before she sighed. “I’d like to. But would it do any good?”

“Probably not.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She held out the data pad with a sigh. “I still have a bottle of that shit you call liquor in my room. When this is over, you’re going to owe me an explanation.”

Caroline’s fingers curled around the peace offering. “It’s a pretty long story.”

“You noticed I said an entire bottle?”

There wasn’t much she could say to that. “Deal.”

Bonnie nodded and tipped her head towards their small medbay. “Good luck.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and pressed her palm to the door, unlocking it so she could step inside. He was waiting for her, the familiarity of him the same punch to her system as it had been before. He’d lost the horrible prison uniform, Bonnie must have felt far more charitable than she’d wanted Caroline to know. But then, her friend had spent her own time in the prison uniforms herself and still avoided the color orange.

But that meant he was now shirtless, his bandaged ribs on display, his expression guarded.

Caroline gave herself a moment to absorb that change in perspective, to take him in. The tumble of curls still touched the tops of his ears, but he’d cleaned up his beard so that only a short stubble remained, leaving behind a man’s face, thin from his time beneath Titan but hardly weak. His eyes were gold touched blue, and awareness brushed down her spine. The decades since she had last seen him were stacked behind his eyes, visible in the way he had grown into his skin.

But the impact of him, the jolting rush of recognition from earlier still lingered beneath her skin. The sudden awareness of who he was and the bone deep hello she couldn’t explain. Which made no sense, had made no sense when she was hauling his ass through Titan. If the boy who had once been kind to her was buried beneath lean muscle and a hardness she recognized from her own mirror, she didn’t see him. This man, with his steady gaze and roughened features was a stranger.

She didn’t know what to think of the way he watched her. He brought so many complications with him. Tipping her head, she arched a brow with more casualness than she felt.

“Werewolf, huh?” Caroline kept her voice even, and the edge of his mouth curled. “I’d have remembered that if you’d mentioned that little detail before.”

He took his time responding, gaze dragging down her body in a thorough perusal that left her skin tingling as if he’d touched her. “Caroline Forbes. I must say, you were not who I was expecting.”

She snorted. “Yeah, well, me either. I wasn’t there to rescue you.”

His gaze narrowed. “Then why were you there?”

Caroline kept her voice bland, shifting her weight to tap one boot against the floor. “New boots.”

And Klaus Mikaelson blinked at her as if the words that were coming out of her mouth were in a dialect he had never heard before. She felt a perverse amount of satisfaction from that. The Klaus she had known had been a few years older and nearly unflappable, outside of the mercurial moodiness of his temperament.

“New boots.”

“Yup. And lucky for you that I decided I needed them. There are reasons that Titan has never lost a prisoner before.” She tossed the data pad in front of him. “I don’t know who or what you were expecting when you made it onto the surface level, but if I hadn’t found you and decided to help, you’d have been collared and sent right back into the depths of the station.”

Caroline wasn’t certain she’d ever shake the shock of it: turning the corner, and finding Klaus standing there. Klaus, who she had thought of only in the safety in the dark of space, when she allowed herself to remember that tumultuous year she’d spent with her feet on solid earth. She had hoped for him to have married, to have had a batch of sarcastic moody children, to have grown old having survived the machinations of his mother.

Another quiet piece of her past disappearing before she’d gained even so much as a hint of a wrinkle.

But he hadn’t, and now she didn’t know what to think.

When she’d seen him, his beard had been too long, the shackles from his cell had still been curved around the bones of his wrists. He’d been slightly hunched, the blood on his uniform not just from whoever had gotten between him and his escape, and the way he stood said something had hurt but he was on his feet.

Somehow, she hadn’t gotten any of that blood on her. Right then, she was regretting that a little. A single touch of his skin against her own, and she’d have managed to avoid some of this conversation as she’d been given the answers. For the first time, she cursed the prison uniform for more than its obnoxious color and terrible material.

And now here she was , struggling to understand the certainty she hadn't felt in decades when she’d seen him. Her mother’s blood never forgot an enemy, but it also never forgot a friend, and once, a very, very long time ago, she’d thought of him as such. The punch of that knowledge had been staggering as they’d stared at each other, too much between them, and she’d heard the alarms blaring from beneath the soles of her feet.

She hadn’t been able to turn, to leave him like she should have. Swearing at him, at herself, she’d moved forward and slid her arm beneath his and gritted out an order to stay quiet and to follow her.

And he had. Now here they were. On her ship, trying to outrun the long reach of Titan. His gaze finally left her face and lowered to the datapad before returning to hers in a silent question.

“Bonnie is med-trained,” Caroline lied easily. “She did a data scan before I came in when she was tapping up your ribs. I know earth uses the prisoners below Titan for experimentation, but did you ever hear them mention what they were putting into your blood?”

“Bonnie,” Klaus said softly. “Is a witch.”

She didn’t lower her eyes. Esther had been a witch. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Not even a flicker of a lash. “No.”

“Because if it is,” Caroline said, “I will toss you into the airlock myself. Werewolves can last for a few minutes in the black, you know. Not long enough to live, but long enough to fight for it.”

The yellow in his gaze spread in a wash of power. “Threats already?”

“Duh,” she replied. “This is my ship, my crew. I might have saved you, but you try to harm them, and you’re going to see what it’s like trying to breathe in a vacuum.”

Klaus laughed, low and rich, and it ran across her senses like a touch. “Your threats have gotten better, love. I approve.”

Caroline snorted. “I’m touched. Really.”

He didn’t move towards her, but the sudden intensity to the way he watched her, the wolf clear in his gaze, left her very aware of the careful distance and one table between them. “I think you’ll find that even here, on this ship you’ve claimed and marked as your own, that I am not so easy to destroy.”

She didn’t doubt he believed that, that he was capable of horrible things, even injured, but she refused to give him an inch. Not here, not now. Not yet. Not when her ship would tear itself apart to protect its heart. “So says the werewolf that had to be rescued from humans.”

Klaus’ gaze narrowed, a flicker of deep seated rage there and gone again. “The result of an unfortunate betrayal, one I plan to deal with as soon as I am off this ship.”

There was something dangerous there, something terrible that kept her from asking the questions that lingered on her tongue. “Are you going to be a danger to my crew, Klaus?”

His head angled to the side, and there was nothing soft about his expression. “Will you believe my answer?”

“You’ve never lied to me before,” Caroline said slowly, feeling her way through the strange sense of knowing she hadn’t been able to shake. The buzzing of her mother’s blood. She wanted to believe him. “I don’t have a reason to think you’d start now, though you were apparently keeping some pretty big secrets.”

Klaus went motionless in front of her, the flex of his jaw unexpected as he stared at her. The wolf slowly faded from his eyes as he clearly weighed her words. “I intend no harm to your people, Caroline. Witches or no. But I cannot say the same for my enemies.”

She shoved her fingers through her bangs. “And just who are they?”

“Why did you rescue me, Caroline?”

She blinked. “Does that matter?”

A hint of a dimple curved along his cheek, and Klaus crossed his arms, leaning against the table. She tried very hard to ignore the shift and flex of muscle, the bare skin still on display. The fascinating movement of his tattoo. “Very much, I’m afraid.”

She mirrored his stance, arms crossing across her chest. “And why is that, exactly?”

“Caroline.”

“Klaus.”

“I’ve answered a number of your questions,” he pointed out in a reasonable tone that made her teeth clench. “It's only fair that you do the same, don’t you think?”

“I wasn’t the one rescued.”

His teeth gleamed in the lighting. “A man has reasons to be concerned when a near stranger offers him his freedom. Particularly in such… serendipitous circumstances, don’t you think? The black is full of terrible things. Slavers. Blood Witches. Those influential human scientists who wish to unlock the immortality of magic without the cost. We knew each other a long time ago, love.”

Her eye roll was automatic. “Oh yes, I’ve risked my reputation and my neck to drag you off to a backwater moon so you can become someone’s wolf bitch. How did you guess?”

The hint of amusement that had tugged at his lips disappeared, and something hard entered his eyes. “The truth, if you please.”

It was a velvet threat said in a voice lined in steel. She hadn’t liked that tone from him when she’d been seventeen, and she liked it even less now, knowing of the wolf that lived under his skin. She forcibly reminded herself that she’d have questions if he’s just up and rescued her too. Locking him in the med bag until he was reminded of his manners wasn’t a smart decision. Yet, at least.

She lifted her chin and held that inhuman gaze, unblinking. “You were something of a friend, once. I hadn’t forgotten that and I have no love for cages. Though I suppose I should worry why humanity decided to bury you in their favorite graveyard. There are some things even I won’t look past. Are we going to be enemies, Klaus?”

Truth and lies, they tangled together and she wondered if he saw them. None of that had been in her mind when she’d seen him, none of that had mattered. Her reaction had been inexplicable and confusing, and it wasn’t something she was willing to discuss. Not now, preferably never.

“You don’t want me as your enemy, love.”

Caroline scoffed. “I’m not sure I want you as my friend. The last werewolf I made an acquaintance of was a real dick, and this conversation isn’t shaping up to prove you’re much different.”

“And would that werewolf happen to be the esteemed Marshall Lockwood?” His words were casual, as if that information actually existed outside her head. As if he knew. But Klaus had known Tyler once, and that made her wonder.

“Marshall Lockwood is not up for discussion .”

Klaus brow arched with intrigue. “So the rumors are true.”

“That would depend on the rumors.” It was a strain, to hold that slightly bored expression. To keep her pulse steady.

“Lockwood should have been promoted past Marshall decades ago.” Klaus dragged his gaze down her face, and for a heartbeat she imagined those eyes lingered on her lips. “The why’s have always generated a great deal of speculation. He passes as human, you see. He is also loyal even when that loyalty is detrimental. The rumors of blackmail, of alien involvement have been rampant for years.”

She’d made a point not to follow those rumors, and it was a struggle not to wince. No wonder Tyler hated her. But she remembered the way he’d spat Tech Witch, the way he’d made it clear to anyone around him, and that wince turned to anger. He’d made his choices.

“You’re pretty knowledgeable for a man who was locked away in the depths of Titan.” Caroline said slowly. “Why exactly did they toss you into their comfy retirement home? Werewolves take resources to hold.”

His smile was slow and sharp. “Humanity considers me a threat.”

“That hardly makes you special.” She waved a hand towards the walls of her ship. “Earth considers everyone not fully human a threat. It’s a long, extensive list.”

“True. Let’s say then, that I have made an effort to be noticed.” His eyes glittered. “They are well aware of who I am.”

“How wonderful for you. How?”

Klaus studied her for a long moment. “When you said you couldn’t return, you meant it, didn’t you?”

Her breath caught in her throat at those softly voiced words, the memories they dragged violently to the surface. The way she could almost smell the smoke, feel the splash of her mother’s blood against her face.

“I never lied to you.” Caroline said. “Even then.”

Especially then.

Not when she had a choice.

He gave a nod, the wolf back in his eyes, as if he had come to some internal decision. “Esther didn’t survive you leaving the planet.”

She blinked, frowned. “Esther was amassing a cult following, how did anyone get through that? And how does this answer my question?”

A sharp slash of a smile. “I killed her.”

Caroline stared at him. Esther had been his mother. “I don’t understand.”

He lowered his arms, shifting his weight carefully. “My mother… Esther was a monster. And so was Mikael.”

“They did try to sacrifice my mom, so no arguments there.” She let the bite of her nails into her palm ground her. “But they were also powerful, which is why we ran.”

And why she’d been willing to barter with Tyler’s mother to get him off that world, the one family with limited permission to leave the planet without the terrible protocols. Not that it’s done her any good, in the long run. Tyler had chosen to bury what he was and to become something he wasn’t. And she...

She’d woken to the cold berth of her ship alone, the only clue the blood that had stained the walls, the floors, of what had been her mother’s room. That ship had been destroyed in the heart of a sun, the blood too potent and the horror of it too binding. The ship sang too mournful song, a song of rage and sadness even as she watched it disappear in an explosion that erased it down to the last molecule.

“Yes,” Klaus agreed. “But by rescuing Liz, you allowed the rest of us to find our freedom.” A lowering of his lashes, charm in every word. “I suppose that means you’ve saved me twice.”

For a long moment their gaze held, and the room felt several degrees too warm. It had been Klaus’ hands who had caught her when she had staggered at the weight of her mother. Klaus who had told her to go, as the screams around them had grown in fever pitch as the fires Kol had set to burn began to consume houses.

Clearing her throat, Caroline shook her head. “If you killed Ester that debt is even. But what does any of this have to do with you escaping that planet and pissing off enough people you got tossed into Titan? Stop avoiding my questions.”

Another flash of teeth, a deliberate god behind his eyes. “And where have you been all these years, Caroline?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Hand sliding to her hip, Caroline glared. “What do you mean? Space is a big place.”

“You’re not an easy woman to find,” Klaus said casually. “Even when one knows what to look for.”

Unexpectedly, her heart jolted into her throat. “You shouldn’t have been looking for me at all.”

The dip of the crease of his cheeks, the curve of his smile were all predatory. “No?”

“My mother paid her debts,” Caroline said bitterly, chin lifting. “I owe you nothing.”

“No,” he repeated, voice softening. “You do not. I believe if anything, if what you say is true, I owe you.”

Her gaze narrowed, but his eyes didn’t waver from hers. Motioning towards the pad on the table in front of him, she firmed her words. She was done discussing her mom. “I bet Titan’s food sucked. I’ll find you an energy bar while you read that report.”

She turned her back to him, and it itched along her spine. But even a werewolf couldn’t get a clean jump on her in her own ship and to flinch now would be to lose ground. Digging through the supplies they kept for emergencies, she found a shirt that would probably fit with something like regret. Another drawer for one of Bonnie’s stashed meal replacements, and she walked over and set them both in front of him.

For a moment, she imagined she could feel the heat radiating from his skin, even with the table between them. She shook the thought off, ignoring the way she could almost pick out the scent of his skin beneath the sterility of the prison smell. Klaus, for his part, had done as she said and was looking at the data pad, the full line of his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You’re sure this is accurate?”

“Bonnie doesn’t make mistakes,” Caroline said. “Not about this. And neither do I.”

“Why show this to me?”

She tipped her head and studied him. Considered the words she wanted to say. “Titan is full of the echoes of old ghosts. The kind humans cannot see, even in the black. The kind that skitter along nerves, that flicker with the hum of an engine, that race across a tablet screen in the shape of quick anomalies and distortions. What that station swallows, it keeps.”

There was no judgement in Klaus’ eyes at her reminder of her alien blood, the gifts that left her far more integrated into technology that should be possible. Tech Witch. If only it was so simple.

“So you’ve said.”

“So I did.”

Those brilliant eyes narrowed. “Tell me, love. Your people avoid human space. Yet, here you are. Why?”

Her lips twisted. What few of them were left. “We avoid humanity for good reason. We… the best way to put it is we leave behind our own echoes, and too many… well, this ship would swallow its enemies too. Titan would never allow that sort of integration, but they fear it. What it could become.”

“Titan has no consciousness, no knowing.” Klaus said, as if he’d been prepared for what she would admit. “It’s halls are lined with human nightmares, not the kind your people give shape to.”

“Humanity has never been so simple.” Caroline returned. “The remnants of my people… they litter empty colonies like broken alters. What humanity tries to do with those bits and pieces could never be allowed on earth, could never be allowed to be seen as anything but human invention.”

“Nanotechnology is not new.” He pointed out, referencing the report she’d given him to read, the details Bonnie had included for him. So he could understand. “Humanity has been experimenting with improving vaccinations and healing for more generations than have passed since your people’s first contact. Even in the black, the science of it has trickled out into space. Improved healing, improved health, longer life spans as organs stop failing quite so quickly.”

“What we suspect that they have injected you with is not so simple.” She gave him a brief smile, barely more than the bitter curve of her lips. “Over the last twenty years, we’ve discovered that the scientists on Titan have been less than satisfied with the dozens of prisoners that earth sends them each year as experiments. They’ve turned their eyes towards slavers, towards their own people when it suits them. I can’t imagine how delighted they’d have been, to have found themselves in the position of having a werewolf in their grip. Whatever they injected you with, it’s going to be dangerous.”

Klaus ran his finger thoughtfully down the screen of the pad. “Experiments with what technology survived the fall of your people seems like a bit of an extreme jump in logic. Earth would never sanction such things as the fallout should it be proven would be terrible.”

She’d once thought the same. That had changed. Caroline held out her palm, nudged her chin towards the pad. “There is an easy way to tell. If Bonnie was right. If we’re wrong.”

A simple touch, and she would know just what part her people’s cast off ruins were being used in the torture of those Titan claimed as its own. To see what they had shoved in his veins, this man-made monster who might now carry worse sins in his blood than he knew.

In front of her, the line of his throat went taut, the cords of his throat in sudden, sharp relief. What blue had returned to his eyes disappeared under a wash of gold so potent, she felt it sizzle across her nerves.

“Ah,” he murmured, voice dipping low and deep. “That might be more complicated than you know.”

She frowned. “Why? If they managed to inject you with their bastardized nanonites, touching you will let me confirm. Removing them is the complicated part.”

And would require help. Not something she thought the wolf would enjoy. Not when he was injured.

“Tell me, Caroline, do you know why Earth, why the Federation, put such a strict quarantine on my home world?”

The sudden switch of topics sent warning fingers dragging down her spine. “You mean other than it being infested with witches and apparently the occasional werewolf, the two things they like to pretend don’t exist?” She wrinkled her nose. “I always assumed it was one hell of a prison planet.”

There were a few of those, scattered around the galaxies. Klaus’ homeworld had been unique in that it was beautiful, and it inhabited more than just a prison carved into an otherwise uninhabitable chunk of rock. But it was also full of horrors, and not all of them had been man made.

He laughed softly, but there was no amusement in his eyes. “You’re not entirely wrong. But what they wished to trap there is more complicated than blood and magic.”

“Very few things are more complicated than either of those,” Caroline said carefully. “And all of them are alien in nature.”

The flicker of approval on his face shouldn’t have mattered. “Earth has mostly forsaken its children spread among the stars, but not all survivors consider themselves lost. My mother certainly didn’t.”

“Your mother was a fanatic.”

A tip of his head in casual agreement. “My grandmother called it an artifact, my mother thought it was a map. My father knew it for the danger it was, and it cost him his life.” He gave a careful shrug of his shoulder. “The werewolf homeworlds have long since been thought to be lost, though most people believe their Armadas must disappear to somewhere. Esther sought to change that.”

“The werewolf homeworlds?” Caroline repeated incredulously. “No one even knows if they truly exist, or if they do, how they came to be.”

A thoughtful glance from beneath his lashes. “So you do know the stories.”

“Yes, because they are stories.” She crossed her arms with a scoff. “It’s everyone’s favorite boogeyman bedtime tale. Particularly once their ships started to have more frequent sightings.”

“Enlighten me.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Of what, rumor? Urban legend? Seriously, Klaus. What could you possibly have not heard? The stories that blame witches for your existence, the gift that the black pulled from your blood? The ones that blame earth's scientists who went deep into the heart of a solar system that no longer has a name. Or my personal favorite, the ones that blame my mother’s people, though how they came to those conclusions I don’t know. They left behind experimenting on flesh and blood eons before they were destroyed. There is no fact behind any hint of a rumor that currently exists.”

“The werewolf gene is an interesting one,” Klaus murmured. “It breeds true but not always in strength. Ansel thought it had to do with our longevity, that when born on planets where it was peaceful, we didn’t need that strength.”

“Ansel?”

“My father.”

“Your…” staring at him, she struggled to find a coherent thought. It hadn’t occurred to her that Mikael couldn’t have been Klaus’ father. But perhaps it should have. Esther had been a witch, as were her children. All except one.

“What are you saying?”

“Esther’s ambition knew no bounds,” Klaus said. “She planned to use your mother’s blood to find the werewolf homeworld, to activate the map she suspected your people had left behind. And then she hoped to conquer it. But to conquer, she needed a weapon, one she could bind with the familial bond.” Another careful movement as he rolled his shoulder. “Ansel wanted to know if having a son under the horrors of our moon would grant strength back into his line. For a while, they’re politics aligned. It was short lived, as was with most things my mother touched.”

Caroline swallowed hard at the implications of his words. That he was that weapon. That her mom was a key to finishing worlds long lost. “That’s insane.”

“Perhaps. My mother was certainly many things, and sane was not one of them. But my father.” A slow tilt of his lips, the blunt edge of his teeth barely visible. “My father was not wrong. Though he was not entirely right, based on Tyler’s pathetic existence.”

“This,” Caroline said slowly, straightening her shoulders. “Is not your home world.”

The I am not your prey, hung between them.

His smile widened. “Esther did not expect you or your strength to defend your mother.” His wolf glimmered in jagged shards behind his eyes. “That seems to be a weakness in my family, as twice now, you have surprised me, when I know better. I’m very aware of where I stand, love.”

Strength that had eventually failed her. That had left her with nothing but the smeared remains of her family. “Why tell me this? Why bring up any of this?”

“I looked for you,” Klaus said, voice dipping into a caress that was almost a touch. “All these long years that I’ve spent among the stars. Hunted for a mention of your ship, chased every glance of gold from the corner of my gaze. And yet, when I looked for you naught, when my only thought was survival, there you were.”

Caroline’s stomach flipped at his words and she forced herself to hold his gaze. “I didn’t want to be found.”

“So I’ve gathered.” The dryness in his tone almost wrangled a smile from her. “But finding you has never been about just want, Caroline, but need.”

She bared her teeth. “So I am just an alien to you.”

Klaus moved, a slow deliberate shift of his body to remove the barrier of the table between them. Caroline had to sink her heels into the floor to hold her position, and while he didn’t touch her, he was close enough that when he dipped his head, his breath brushed along her chin.

“If only it was that simple.” He tipped his head, the movement strangely wolffish. “If only. You know what I am.”

Her fingernails dug into her palm as she wondered when she’d started to lose control of this conversation. “Yup. Werewolf, asshole, planet born. Big deal.”

An exhaled noise of amusement. “Alpha.”

She blinked. Blinked again. “Alpha of what? A backwater planet that eats its people regularly as it’s own wonderful world of sacrifice? Sounds awesome. Big congrats.”

A dimple creased his cheek. “You wanted to know who my enemies are, love? They are many, and varied. Earth, certainly. A number of werewolf tribes. The families of those whose son’s I left broken in my path to ruling. My inheritance from my father came with a heavy price, but it did not come without its gifts. Thankfully, the Armada did eventually see my value.”

“Armada,” she rasped. Swallowing, she tried again. “The werewolf armada. You are seriously trying to tell me you escaped your homeworld, and… what. You challenged your way right to the top of leadership? In the werewolf armada. The ships that are nearly impossible to find, that are made up of mercenary bands and other wonderful, loving people and they just let you stroll in and start killing people?”

“Yes.”

He sounded so unbelievably satisfied. “Well, clearly that didn’t stick since you ended up in the bowels of Titan.”

“Careful,” he murmured.

“Or what?” She wiggled her fingers, careful to not touch him. “You’re still on my ship, presumed alpha or not, and I can still space you. I probably should.”

An arch of his brow, though nothing about his body said he was worried about her threat. “Oh?”

Caroline gave him an annoyed look. “Have you not listened to a single thing I’ve said? Nanobites, Klaus. My people’s technology that’s been fucked about by humans into who knows what, swimming around in your bloodstream. Do you know what else they put in those things? Trackers.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, ah.” She lifted her chin. “Which brings us full circle to the original problem. I need to see exactly what they injected into you, and then Enzo and I might have to remove them, which is going to be a bitch for everyone. Otherwise dumping you on a planet to apparently contact your armada to come pick you up will mean absolutely shit. You’ll be cooling your heels on Titan in a matter of hours.”

“Enzo.” His voice turned cool, the line of his shoulders stiffening. “Who is Enzo?”

“My co-pilot,” Caroline said. “And someone I trust.”

Klaus moved, a quick shift of his weight that put his nose and mouth excruciatingly close to the skin beneath her ear. His breath was hot and damp, and she froze as he breathed deeply. “You don’t smell of him. So not lovers. Good.”

Caroline spluttered and took two steps back, cheeks hot. “That is none of your damn business.”

“I think you’ll find that is not entirely the case the moment you put your hands on me, Caroline.” His eyes met hers, and there was nothing human in the expression behind them. “You marked me decades ago.”

She straightened her spine, denial on her tongue, even as beneath her feet, her ship hummed with attention. “I did no such thing.”

His laugh echoed harshly between them and he prowled towards her, the line of his jaw set. “No? I disagree. So does my wolf. You’ve been in my blood so long, what does a mere echo of your people compare? Even the other wolves, the ones who sought my favor, who wished for my benevolence never quite dared ask for more than what I offered. They too, saw the claim you’d etched into me.”

“That’s impossible.”

An amused, indulgent glance that spoke of too many things that left her so very aware of how close he was standing to her. “Is it? You know the stories of your people as well as I do. My kind have a similar belief, though it is rare away from our worlds. Of claiming, of mating.”

Her fingertips tingled with the need to feel that uncompromising edge of his jaw and she swallowed. Tried not to think of the way her blood reacted to him, the impulsive need to help him. Mate. Impossible. “Klaus…”

His head lowered, lips lingering so close to her own. “Why did you save me?”

Caroline gave a tiny shake of her head, terrified that she’d give into the need to lean just a little forward. “I told you.”

“New boots,” Klaus murmured. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He straightened, and smiled, dimples on full display, cutting deep. “There is an easy way to tell. If I am right. If I am wrong.”

Her throat ran dry.

Klaus spread his arms slowly, moving to lean back against the table. “Do your worst. Go ahead, tell me what runs beneath my skin. All of it. But, Caroline.”

She took in a deep breath, lifting her chin to meet those moon glow eyes, that daunting smile.

“Don’t say that I didn’t warn you, love.”

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfic #klaroline update #i am braced

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ertrunkenerwassergeist · 2 years

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I was tagged by @boysloveandtaxation to do this fanfic writer tag game - let’s see what we find here, shall we?

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I love Cor/Nyx. They have a great dynamic and it’s great to write about. I also have Aranea/Ravus permanently living rent free in my head as an ace couple. Luna/Nyx is also something I can see myself playing around with. When it comes to media other than FFXV, I really like Ed/Roy from FMAB, Urahara/Ichigo from Bleach and Wesley/Buttercup from Princess Bride.

How many works do you have on AO3?

38! 37 of those are from FFXV. XD I have one story though that I tell in a series of one-shots, though. And I have a series of Galahdian tales. Not sure if I should count each of those as one or clump them together. But AO3 says 38, so 38 it is.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

492131 words. (My fics are slowly growing monsters. I love them so much XD)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All are FFXV fics, which honestly should not surprise anyone:

Heart of Thunder: Absolutely no surprise there. It’s my most popular fic. Started it as a dare. I had no idea that Cor/Nyx was so popular. It’s so fun to write those two. Though the next chapter is giving me some real trouble.

Born Into the Wilds: Another no brainer! Though the gap between the first two is huge. XD The very base concept is the same as HoT. Cultural misunderstandings and a slow mending of bridges and acceptance. But with Nyx as a blue mage and no Cor/Nyx.

Dreams of Our Past: That’s a complicated one for me. It’s the first fic I ever posted on AO3 and for that it’s very special to my heart. But it’s a total dumpster fire and the plot lines are barely holding together. Sadly not as popular as I want it to be with how long this story is, but then again this is one of my few stories that doesn’t focus on Galahd and the Kingsglaive and I recognise OCs are not for everyone. (Then again, all my stories are full of OCs. *shrugs*)

Where the Sea Kisses Earth: That one is a bit of a surprise. Though I think it’s only as popular as it is because of the Cor/Nyx ship. It’s my first time writing something with a horror theme and went off surprisingly well, even though it’s slow going. And the ship is slow burn. So we’re 5 chapters in and Nyx and Cor haven’t even met yet. XD

Of Sunshine and Gunmetal: No surprise there. And I expect it’ll get even more popular when I get around to postin more. It’s Cor/Nyx with the both of them adopting Prompto. Told in achronical one-shots and written as prompts mostly on Tumblr.

Do you reply to comments, why or why not?

Yes!!!! I’m a bit behind right now, but I love answering comments. And honestly, getting them is one of the reasons I post my fics in the first place. Seeing proof of people enjoying my works and being excited about the plot and the characters brings me so much joy. And I love talking to people in the comments. A commenter once gave me a great recipe for Yorkshire Pudding!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

All of my long fics aren’t finished yet, but I can say now that all of them are gettinga happy ending. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to write some of the things that have happened/will happen in them. But the angstiest one is definitely Gilgamesh the Betrayer. My origin story for Gilgamesh in FFXV. It’s inspired by tragedies and does not have a good ending. I think the warnings I put on it are the reason it doesn’t have very many hits. XD

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

That’s the goal for every fic I write. Or at least a neutral ending.

Do you write crossovers?

Not really? I have some on my drive that will never see the light of day. They’re for me and for me only. The longest of them is an epistolary style Game of Thrones/Harry Potter thing that’s nearly 8 years old at this point.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really. I have received the occassional comment that has been... brash. But no genuine hate and I’m very grateful for that.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope. My fics go never farther than heavy handed kissing, though sex is implied when it happens. I’m just not interested in writing smut.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. But I would not be averse to it happening, if I were to be asked.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! It’s Dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori. The title is from a poem. It’s an AU about Tenebrae taking place right at the invasion of Fenestala Manor and focuses on Ravus and Luna. (The title means ‘It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country’) I have two others with co-authors and they did some great art for them! Voice In The Dark and For Fire Melts The Icy Path.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I honestly don’t consider any of my WIPs discontinued. Mostly because I still work on all of them no matter how slow it’s going. It’s mostly Dulce and Dreams that give me trouble, but I count it as success, if I can occassionally add a sentence or two.

What are your writing strengths?

Definitely the worldbuilding. People have told me that I can make a world feel lived in and complex but still comprehensible. Which is a great compliment. And apparently I’m also quite good at character dynamics. I also like to think that I can give my characters reasonable flaws that make them interesting.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Keeping track of all the details and plot seeds I planted. Which is often why chapters take me so long. I need to make sure it’s all consistent. Writing romantic relationships is also hard. Most times I’m just going ???????? and whinging it.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Since I do it myself, I’m all for it. I’m not bilingual, so I have no idea how genuine it is, but I’m creating languages for fun and I want to sprinkle them in. It’s part of my FFXV worldbuilding. Giving the different nations languages of their own because there’s no way there’s only one language.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The first thing I ever posted doesn’t exist anymore, I think. It was on a forum I forgot the name about it was so long ago and DBZ. I was maybe 14 at the time?

The first fanfic thing I ever wrote though, now that I think about it, was a short story I wrote for my mum as a present when I was around 12. She still has it.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Now that’s a tough one. But I think it’s a tie between Crystal Verse and Fae AU. They’re both series and I enjoy writing them immensly. Mostly because they’re so out there from what I usually write. (Tumble won’t let me link them. *shakes fist at Tumblr*)

Whoever feels like they want to do this as well, enjoy! No pressure.

#ask game #writing #fanfiction #ffxv #heart of thunder #born into the wilds #dreams of our past #of sunshine and gunmetal #where the sea kisses earth #gilgamesh the betrayer #dulce et decorum est #voice in the dark #for fire melts the icy path #crystal verse #fae au #geist answers

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 4 years

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Courtship | [Obi-Wan Kenobi x M!Reader] | Star Wars

Notes: This is inspired by @xmalereader Mandalorian x Dark Fey! Reader story. I absolutely adore his stories and the concept, therefore I wanted to write something similar, only with Obi-Wan.

Although this is based off Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, I just mainly used the character designs, while deciding the culture of the Dark Fey myself. So it could be interpreted as an AU

Fandoms: Star Wars, The Clone Wars, Maleficent AU

Warnings: Heartbreak, Slight Fluff, Slight OOC, Obi-Wan Being Oblivious

Summary: Obi-Wan knows nothing about courtship and causes a huge misunderstanding.

Word Count: 7′455

Taglist: -

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Reader is a Dark Fey!

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka had been on an undercover rescue mission when the transport ship that should have taken them back to the Core Worlds malfunctioned.

That only worsened the mood because their mission target had died and Obi-Wan had gotten his lightsaber destroyed in the process.

Anakin, the great pilot he was, decided it was for the best to try and land on the nearest planet and get help.

But none of them had expected that the small multicolored ball they had landed on only housed a few inhabitants - most of which had never seen a spaceship, or even a droid.

Thankfully they found one of the more progressive tribes.

They had a person who spoke Basic, and fortunately, C-3PO was with them for the rescue mission, so they had another way to communicate. Although, the language of the natives was only partly in his database.

The alien race who lived on the small planet was a species they had never seen before. They were all winged, with feathers of different colors and lengths, and two large horns that were different for each individual.

They called themselves Dark Fey, however the name didn't seem accurate. At least not for him. Dark wasn't a word Obi-Wan would have associated with them.

Especially not with the man who had taken them in.

Y/N was the son of the tribe chief of the village, and his wings reminded the Jedi of a butterfly in one of the Jedi gardens. They were mainly orange, with a speck of white and black and some small blue dots.

His father's wings were even more colorful, but Obi-Wan preferred the ones of the son because they were less shrill.

And like the color of his wings, Y/N was kinder than his father. He wanted to help them find a way back to Coruscant.

"Father, we need to help them," argued the h/c-haired man, his eyes glistening with annoyance when his stubborn parent crossed his arms and flipped his wings.

The three Jedi were currently in one of the giant tree trunks, in the forest where the Fey resided, in a room as big as the Jedi Archives. It seemed to be the tribe's meeting hall.

Y/N's father Aster sat on a throne made out of small tree branches, his red and orange wings spread wide behind his back.

"Don't act like that, please," groaned Y/N, and Anakin and Obi-Wan only watched with furrowed brows, not understanding what kind of conversation was going on between the two men.

C-3PO informed them about the dispute between the son and the father, and they realized that the tribe chief did not want them here.

Ahsoka happily munched on the fruits that one of the younger Fey had brought, oblivious or more likely ignorant of the tense atmosphere in the hall.

Although the Fey appeared not to welcome them, they still provided them with some hospitality. The Togruta flashed a toothy grin at one of the kids, and they giggled.

"You know exactly why I don't want to help them!"

Y/N's father looked at the three Jedi with a stern expression, and the only person in the room who wanted to support them huffed in anger.

"We'll be careful!"

The tension suddenly rose, and Obi-Wan assumed it was because the younger's wings now rose too, his feathers ruffled.

"May I say something?" he asked carefully, all eyes then turned to him.

The five women next to Aster leaned forward to listen, they were probably the elders of the tribe.

Y/N turned to him, his eyes held a hint of displeasure, and Obi-Wan gulped, now asking himself if he had just made a big mistake.

"Speak, human," ordered the tribe chief, the Fey who spoke Basic translated, and he bowed slightly, then made eye contact with Y/N's father.

"We are only looking for a spaceship that can take us off-planet. We don't want to burden you with our presence and neither wish to harm you, we can also camp outside your land if you wish us to."

The pupils of Aster shrank considerably, the air turned cold, and Ahsoka stopped eating. Anakin gave him a worried glance, and the Jedi realized that he had said or done something wrong.

He lowered his gaze, and Anakin mimicked his posture, his hand gripping his lightsaber inside his sleeve tighter.

Silence reigned over them, and Obi-Wan tried to catch a glimpse of the tribe chief, but then Y/N stepped before him, obstructing his view.

"Father...", he began, but Aster interrupted him, standing up from his throne, wings now spreading even further, showing his hostility.

"You became a burden when you stepped foot on this planet!", he snarled and descended the stairway made out of the giant tree.

His son held his ground and ruffled his feathers. A single feather touched Obi-Wan's cheek, and he flinched from the softness.

He looked upwards, and the man before them looked like an unmovable stone, an unbeatable protector, who had descended from heaven to help them.

"They did not know, Father! And they had no choice either!"

Y/N's voice now sounded as agitated as his father's, and the situation was about to escalate - although the Jedi did not know into what - when a calm voice suddenly spoke:

"Believe in your son, Aster."

Everyone in the hall turned toward the gigantic entrance where a single Dark Fey had landed.

It was a woman with snow-white wings and silky hair that reached her hips. The present Fey bowed, and the Jedi knew that the newcomer was a respected figure within the tribe.

From the way Y/N smiled at her and how the woman opened her arms wide, she probably was related to him, although their features showed no real resemblances, besides maybe the eyebrows. Y/N hugged her without hesitation.

"You're back," stated Aster, and his wings slightly relaxed.

The woman smiled and then turned to Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka.

"I apologize that I could not greet you when you arrived here. I am Neela, and you're names are?" she spoke in Basic, and all three of them were surprised.

Although it probably shouldn't shock them that much, when they first met Y/N, he also spoke the language.

The translator seemed to have taught it to the ones who wanted to learn it.

Anakin introduced himself first, a brilliant smile on his lips. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes in his mind. His former padawan had probably realized that Neela seemed to be the only one who could tame the tribe chief to some extent.

Ahsoka greeted the woman with a respectful bow, and Obi-Wan did the same when he said his name.

He stole a glance towards Y/N who's lips now showed a triumphant grin. The man noticed his stare and winked at him. His expression was something along the lines of 'Don't worry, we got this'.

It seemed like the arrival of the white-haired woman turned the tides in their favor.

"I heard you are stranded. Your arrival here is of great significance for us. My husband knows that, and his caution is not unreasonable. We do not wish to get involved with the galactic conflicts that are waging right now, I hope you understand."

So, she's Aster's wife... But Y/N truly doesn't resemble her.

Obi-Wan was curious about the woman. She knew more about the galaxy than the rest of the Dark Fey, or so it seemed.

He nodded, and Anakin replied:

"We do. None of us wants to involve you in the war, we're just trying to return home. Our ship is badly damaged, therefore we wanted to find someone who can take us with them."

While Neela asked about their transmitters, Aster's face darkened, the further the conversation continued, but he did not interrupt his wife.

Ahsoka's eyes glistened with respect, and Obi-Wan could imagine what she was thinking. Aster may be the tribe chief, but Neela held the reins in their relationship, which influenced the whole tribe and important decisions.

Anakin then informed them of the last SOS-signal they had sent before they breached the atmosphere of the planet.

"Someone is probably already looking for us," added Obi-Wan, and Aster's eyes turned into slits.

"They will come and force us to leave!" he growled, more towards his wife than the Jedi.

Neela turned around to face her husband, and he visibly flinched. The woman spread her white wings, and her wingspan was even wider than her husband's and Y/N's. Her aura was way more intimidating than the tribe chief’s one.

"They won't stay, I will make sure of that."

She spoke in their native language, but C-3PO translated it, although reluctantly, and the underlying threat worried Obi-Wan.

If no one arrives will they try to kill us?

But Aster relaxed, and he stepped towards his wife, their foreheads touched, and the tribe chief sighed.

Neela's wings lowered, and she then turned around again, her hand on her husband's back.

"You are welcome to stay until your friends arrive. We will make sure that they will find you."

Their action before not only was a display of intimacy but also an opportunity for a silent conversation, where they had decided if they would help the Jedi or not.

Relief washed over Obi-Wan, and Anakin's shoulders relaxed.

As if on cue ran the Fey children from the one corner of the hall towards Ahsoka, and they laughed and fluttered their wings excitedly. They spoke a few words in broken Basic and twirled around her.

The Togruta blinked in surprise and then joined their happy laughs and followed them to their friends.

Obi-Wan and his former padawan cautiously stood up. Anakin only watched when the small bird-like kids kidnapped the Togruta, his expression showing a hint of worry.

"She will be fine," said a calm voice, and the Jedi knights’ heads turned towards Y/N, who had walked closer.

"I'm worried she'll do something offensive," confessed Anakin, and the man laughed loudly.

His head tilted back, showing a necklace with a long blue feather and his wings flapped wildly.

"Not to be mean, but you already offended us greatly, another misstep won't matter."

The Fey continued to laugh when he saw their upset expressions.

"Don't fret it. it's already a miracle that your droid knows parts of our language. How would you know about our culture."

Neela joined their talk. Her eyes focused on Anakin.

"May I talk to you?"

He shared a look with Obi-Wan and then shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure," he responded, and they distanced themselves, Obi-Wan now being left alone with the chief's son.

"Why..." he began, unsure whether he should ask or not.

"She can feel he's special."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Feel?"

Y/N turned his in Neela's direction.

"Mother is like you. She was chosen too."

Obi-Wan could guess what Y/N meant, and it honestly didn't surprise him as much as it probably should have. The moment Neela had stepped into the hall, the force had changed around them.

"What about you?" he asked curiously.

Y/N's expression turned somewhat solemn.

"No, I- I wasn't chosen. It's not possible."

The Fey's hand grabbed his necklace, and his wings quivered.

Obi-Wan realized he had touched a sore spot and decided not to pry further.

"Come with me", said Y/N after a short while, and his smile returned to his lips.

"I'll show you where you guys can stay."

The Jedi followed him out of the hall, after glancing back one last time to see Anakin and Ahsoka standing surrounded by Fey.

Y/N lead him across the branches of the giant tree, which seemed to be the main living area of the tribe.

Twice, they used a hoist to travel higher up, the Fey explaining that they had been built for their youngest who couldn't fly yet.

The Jedi could stay in a room, hollowed out of the main branch. The room was sparsely decorated with wooden furniture, and instead of beds, there were three hammocks made out of thick green fabric that felt considerably softer than it looked.

Obi-Wan put his small backpack he had taken from the ship on the table and then turned towards Y/N.

"Thank you for everything."

He smiled at the Fey, and the man's expression twitched.

"It's fine", he responded curtly, and before Obi-Wan could ask if something was wrong, he had already passed through the leaf curtain that gave the room some privacy and jumped off the branch.

Obi-Wan stayed behind with a somewhat worried expression. He remembered what the man had said before. “You already offended us greatly.”

Hopefully they weren’t digging their own graves.

They stayed on the small planet, in the giant forest for about a month, and in the beginning, they held their respectable distance from the Dark Fey.

They got invited to meals and attended them, but only Y/N, Neela, and the translator, who turned out to be a teacher and one of the only Fey who had left the planet before, really talked to them.

If the children were excluded.

They had a great time with Ahsoka, and she played with them and even found some friends in her age group, who were studying under Danosh, the translator. Thanks to him, most of the children could speak a few words in Basic, allowing Ahsoka to communicate with them.

Aster had instructed the tribe members to treat them with respect and give them everything they needed, but his hospitality ended there.

He did not include them in any kind of activities the tribe performed besides the meals.

The Dark Fey were a close-knitted species, and the tribe of Y/N did almost everything together. They ate together, hunted together, played together, and even slept together.

They seemed very suspicious of strangers - at least the adults - and they mostly kept to themselves, only talking to the Jedi if necessary.

While Ahsoka got mostly occupied with the children, Anakin's attention got caught by Neela, with whom he even traveled to one of the Fey's sacred places for the Chosen.

Obi-Wan got mostly accompanied by Y/N, but he did not mind that at all.

He enjoyed the other's presence, and his open-hearted character and he talked with the man about all kinds of things.

He told him stories about the Jedi, the beauty of the Jedi gardens on Coruscant, the vast ice tundras of Ilum, and the force.

On the other hand, Y/N taught him about the Fey culture, the significance of one's first flight, the meaning of life according to the elders.

He told Obi-Wan the story of the Batellia flower, that would soon bloom at a day the tribe celebrated.

"The flower blooms for a very short time and then it dies, its roots forming a bond with another plant."

Obi-Wan had asked the Fey why they celebrated that day then.

"Batellia portrays the honest truth of our lives. We live, we die and then we join the Ancestors and the Phoenix Mother."

Y/N also told the Jedi about the worst punishment a Fey could receive - losing one's wings, and the importance of death in their culture.

But one thing he did not talk about because he thought Obi-Wan knew.

For him, it was obvious; Something even the wingless humans should know about, but well...

Maybe the Jedi were just too dumb.

"What's that?" asked Anakin, pointing at the shimmering blue stone on Obi-Wan's nightstand while drying his hair.

He looked at the stone he was pointing at.

"It's a present from Y/N. It's a "Soulstone" according to him. It glows in the dark."

He smiled faintly, remembering when Y/N gave it to him.

It's already been three weeks since they had stranded on the small planet, and the Fey had found them. And he and the chief’’s son had formed a close bond.

They had traveled twice to their spaceship, Obi-Wan showing it to him and explaining the mechanisms while Y/N watched from a safe distance, seemingly too scared to approach the metal beast.

Y/N also accompanied him to highest tree they had, trying to send another SOS signal. He caught him, when he almost slipped and Obi-Wan clung to him like dear life, because they were so high up.

The Fey had only laughed, his eyes glimmering with something Obi-Wan couldn’t quite place.

His former padawan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"And the one next to it? Also a present?"

"All of them are presents, Anakin", said Ahsoka, who had suddenly appeared and now strut to her backpack, a new load of her favorite fruits in her arms.

"What about me? I want a present from Y/N too."

The Togruta eyed him strangely, then muttered something to herself and grinned.

"They are just things he had found on his regular trips to the river," Obi-Wan said, trying to calm Anakin.

Although he also questioned why he seemingly was the only one who regularly received gifts from Y/N.

On the other hand, he felt a tingling sensation in his chest, somewhat proud that the Fey apparently viewed him as special.

"Did Neela not give you a present?"

Anakin shook his head but then replied: "I don't really care, the things I've learned on our trips to their temples are more than enough. Did you know that the Chosen use the power of their emotions to strengthen their force abilities? They aren't unleashing them like the Sith, apparently, but I don't really understand the difference yet. Neela will tell me more tomorrow. She's busy with the preparations of today's feast."

Anakin's voice was full of excitement while he talked, and Obi-Wan got reminded of his early padawan days when the boy had commented on every little thing with amazement.

"What's different this time?" he asked, Ahsoka watching the both of them silently, her fruits now stored in her backpack for tomorrow when she would go on a trip with one of the Fey at her age.

"They will perform dances after eating. It's going to be quite a spectacle, according to Neela. She wanted us to stay and witness it."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brows, sitting up from his lying position in his hammock.

"Is that really such a good idea? Aster still doesn't seem too keen on having us around."

Anakin shook his head and pointed at him.

"No, we must come. Especially you, the chief actually requested it."

The Jedi's eyes widened.

Aster personally demanded that he attended? Why?

Obi-Wan wasn't delighted to see the dances after hearing that, and he went to the daily feast with a queasy gut feeling.

The meal went like normal.

The Fey sat in groups in the big hall, various bowls with different dishes on the ground, some of them vegetarian, some with fish, others with meat.

The ages were mixed, and Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Anakin got accompanied by several small Fey who had played with the Togruta before.

Normally, Y/N and Neela would be in their circle too, but this evening they were nowhere to be seen.

"Probably still preparing", said Ahsoka, and Anakin nodded with a full mouth.

They both anticipated the dances, while he was the only one who somehow couldn't.

He just worried why Aster would want him to be there.

Not having Y/N around made it worse. The man had acted as a calming presence in the last few weeks, and Obi-Wan had begun to like him a lot.

The Fey was thirsty for knowledge, kind, and also understanding. He liked to listen and Obi-Wan always felt some sort of proudness, when he could guess Y/N’s thoughts or feelings correctly from the way his wings and feathers moved.

The Fey seemed to shine like a light, he was very popular with the others of his species, especially the female ones, and it was obvious that he would be the next chief.

Although, he wasn't Neela's son.

His mother, Aster's first wife, had died a long time ago, and his father had remarried. Neela gave birth to two other sons, but they both did not want to follow in their father's footsteps.

Y/N didn't dislike his father for remarrying, he loved Neela like his own mother, and she loved him like he was her own son.

Obi-Wan admired their strong bonds and Y/N's personality.

He was comfortable around the other man, so comfortable that he had confessed the secret feelings he had harbored for Satine Kryze.

Y/N had listened silently and then patted his shoulder to comfort him. He didn't say a word of judgment, silence was the only thing they shared at that moment, but Obi-Wan felt so much better after telling him.

Everything went well, and although they had been here for three weeks and he knew that Cody and the High Council were probably dying from worry, he felt relaxed and content.

When he swayed in his hammock in the evening, the stars visible through the carved out window at the ceiling, his hand holding the “Phoenix’s heart” - another stone Y/N had brought him that was always warm - he even dared to think that he wouldn't mind staying with the tribe forever.

But now...

Now the peacefulness seemed to be in danger.

Obi-Wan barely ate anything, and when Aster finally stood up, the Jedi couldn't stop his whole body from tensing up.

"Let us go to the Ancestors Realm!" the tribe chief shouted, and the present Fey joined in a cry of joy.

"Come on!" squeaked one of the children and grabbed Anakin's arm.

Another clung to Obi-Wan, and the young Fey pulled the three Jedi towards the hall entrance with surprising strength.

The Ancestors Realm was a place at the crown of the giant tree. They had to use nine hoists so get up there and when they arrived, the air was considerably thinner.

It was a flat plateau out of red lichen, the tufts at the border of the round area were glowing, and it did look like from another realm. In the middle of the plateau burned a bright fire, illuminating the faces of the arriving people.

The Fey sat at the edges, Ahsoka went to the new friends she had made, and Obi-Wan and Anakin joined Aster and Neela, the latter had shown up out of nowhere.

The tribe chief greeted them with a smile, which surprised both of them, and he motioned for Obi-Wan to sit next to him. He hesitated for a second, but when the chief looked at him with true friendliness in his eyes he gave in.

The Jedi carefully sat next to Aster, avoiding the man's wings, which he had leisurely spread behind him, and then crossed his legs.

"Are you ready?" asked the leader, and Obi-Wan smiled weakly.

"Yes...?" his answer sounded more like a question, and the man next to him laughed.

"You'll like it, I'm sure."

He could only nod, a big lump in his throat.

He knew that Aster was watching him intently from the side, but he had no clue why.

But before he could ponder over it, one of the elder Fey began to hum, and the rest of the Fey immediately joined.

It was a tribal melody, and it resounded deep in Obi-Wan's chest. Aster started clapping in a rhythm, and the male Fey followed his lead, while Neela clapped another beat, and the women did the same.

The humming was accompanied by the beating of a drum and a sudden cry caused the female Fey to shout.

It was strange for the Jedi, but all three of them were mesmerized by the following scene.

The shouts were a signal for the dancers, and seemingly out of nowhere appeared the few missing Fey. Among them was also Y/N, who Obi-Wan could only recognize because of his wings.

The dancers were a group of males who wore masks that covered their entire faces, their bodies decorated with glowing paint.

They flew a circle above the sitting Fey, and their wings spread, causing loose feathers to descend.

Obi-Wan caught one, and it only took him a glance to know to whom it belonged.

Aster flashed a grin at him and motioned him to clap too.

He put the feather carefully in his robe, worried that he damaged it, and then joined the clapping, feeling excited from the display of the dancers.

They twisted and turned with surprising speed and elegance, and when they landed, the actual dance began, and the sound of various music instruments echoed in the tree crown.

The young men all randomly picked a person in the crowd and started to perform in front of them.

Their wings were the main attraction of the dance. They spread them and flapped, showing off their brilliant colors.

Obi-Wan watched in amazement, not realizing that a certain person was staring at him intently.

A light shove from Aster startled him, and he noticed the person who had gotten closer to him.

Y/N's eyes glistened from behind the mask, and the glowing blue body paint gave him the appearance of an ethereal being.

He twirled and then hid his lower face with his left wing. His e/c eyes pulling Obi-Wan's attention towards Y/N like magic. The Jedi felt like he was in a trance.

The Fey looked beautiful, but at the same time powerful, his sturdy muscles visible thanks to the fire.

A flame began to burn in his heart and it reminded him of something, however, he couldn’t figure out what.

The feathers shook when the music quickened, and the Fey jumped from one foot to the other, his heels never touching the ground.

The Jedi followed the man's every move, too enthralled to notice how Aster and Neela were staring at him with pleased smiles.

Anakin looked at them with a wondering expression, not knowing what they were thinking.

Obi-Wan's mind got filled with a thousand thoughts. His heartbeat had quickened, and the sudden wish of taking a holographic photo of Y/N dancing surged through his veins.

He didn't expect the man to be able to move like this, like an elegant warrior.

It was a traditional dance, the other men of the group performed the same routine, but Y/N's was somehow special.

It felt sensual and, at the same time, like a plead.

The man's wings stretched towards Obi-Wan. Had he leaned a little forward, his nose could have touched a feather.

The music turned to a crescendo, and he knew the dance would be over soon, already a little disappointed.

With a sudden move back, Y/N spread his arms, that had also reached out for the Jedi, to the side and his wings darted back and froze in a position similar to the Jedi order's symbol.

The ending was improvised by him, the wings of the other dancers had stopped in a different pose. Obi-Wan’s heart jumped and he let out a shaky breath.

The Fey for whom the other dancers had danced began to stand up and clap and howl wildly, their ardor audible in their voices, and Anakin and Obi-Wan joined in.

The dancers walked up to the audience members they had chosen and they pressed their foreheads together. Obi-Wan watched their display of affection with a big smile. He loved the kindness the Fey held for each other.

The tribe leader couple also stood up, he following their lead, when Aster suddenly pulled him closer with an arm around his neck, and the tribe chief asked him:

"Did you like it?"

And Obi-Wan could only exclaim with an excited tone:

"Yes! It was wonderful!"

Y/N's father showed a very pleased expression and then let go of him.

The Jedi wondered for a moment if that was the only thing he wanted to know, but his attention shifted when a glowing figure appeared in his peripheral vision.

"Obi-Wan" uttered Y/N, while taking his mask off, his breathing was slightly heavy.

"Y/N, you were amazing! The dance displayed so many emotions, I loved it!"

The Fey stopped short in his track, and then his lips formed a breathtaking smile, which reminded him of the sunrise in the morning.

"Thank you!"

Obi-Wan's head got suddenly grabbed by the other man, and their foreheads touched in a swift motion.

Y/N's skin felt hot from the dancing, and the Fey's breathing shook his shoulders, but Obi-Wan was solely focusing on the man's closed eyes.

Their position felt almost too intimate, his heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears, but he did not move back, ignoring the sudden flutter in his chest, telling himself this was courtesy and showing his respect for Y/N.

He expected the other to pull his head back, but the Fey did not move, until his father patted his shoulder and laughingly boomed:

"That's enough, son. You'll have plenty of time for that later."

Y/N finally pulled back, although not stepping far away, and he turned to his father, shooting him a glare. Obi-Wan stood somewhat dazed, blinking wildly, and wondering what Aster meant with later.

"I'm proud of you, Y/N!" said Neela, and she hugged the man.

The Jedi smiled at the display of their feelings, and he distanced himself to give them some space and to calm his beating heart.

Get it together. Your heart is acting as if you’re in love.

He turned to Anakin, who talked to Ahsoka, both their expressions still showing amazement.

"That was soo cool!" squealed the Togruta, and his former padawan agreed.

"I now feel the desire to have wings too," added Obi-Wan to the conversation, and they turned around to greet him.

Ahsoka's eyebrows shot up, and she grinned somewhat disbelievingly.

"So, you did it," she said, a matter of factly.

"I did what?" he asked, not understanding what she meant.

She gestured towards his face, and he tilted his head in confusion.

"You got paint on your forehead." Anakin said while watching his padawan with questioning eyes, but the Togruta didn't say what she was hinting at.

And he didn't find out until the end of the evening.

After he had talked to the two other Jedi, Y/N had shown up again and told him that he had to attend a family meeting.

He was apologetic, his expression showing clear annoyance and Obi-Wan felt bad for the Fey, although it wasn't such a big deal for him.

They could talk about his performance tomorrow.

So they said goodnight to each other, Y/N once again pressing his forehead to Obi-Wan's, who let it go without a word.

Aster and Neela also left.

They only waved at them, the tribe chief winking at Obi-Wan, leaving the Jedi once again puzzled about why the man had changed his behavior so suddenly.

Although the Fey poured out some delicious alcohol, the three Jedi decided to go back to their room. They were surprisingly tired from seeing the performance.

When Obi-Wan had already laid down in his hammock, Ahsoka addressed him:

"Congratulations, Master."

He lifted his head to peek over the hammock's edge.

"Congrats for what?"

"You and Y/N."

He didn't understand a word.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly worried.

"Don't you know?" she said, now sitting up inside her hammock.

He only blinked. Ahsoka's expression turned baffled.

"The performance today got danced by courting Fey."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, then his eyes widened.

"Are you saying... Y-Y/N..?", he finally squeezed through his lips, realisation slowly dawning on him.

She mirrored his shocked expression.

"You didn't know?! But you accepted!"

He was panicking now.

"Accepted what and when?!"

Anakin walked into the room, unaware of the sudden revelation.

"What's going o-"

"The forehead touch!"

Obi-Wan sank back into his hammock, his heartbeat thundering in his ear. He had gotten a confession and he didn’t even realize.

"Oh, what have I done?"

The next morning, Obi-Wan felt no motivation to stand up.

He wasn't ready to clear up the misunderstanding that had happened yesterday.

He hadn't known that the dance was about courtship, nor that the forehead was something only romantically involved Fey would do.

He just thought it was something intimate that friends, partners, and family did. The other dancers had done it too, but now he knew the real reason.

That’s why not all of them touched foreheads, they got rejected!

But apparently, he was wrong.

And now he had to take the consequences.

"Come on, old man. Get up", said Anakin with a laugh, and he made his former master's hammock sway.

"Why can't I just die right now of old age?" he sighed, feeling dreadful about what was about to come.

Anakin snorted, and he finally sat up.

He had to talk to Y/N before the whole thing escalated.

But oooh, it already had.

"How did you not realize?!" shouted Y/N.

The Fey was shaking Obi-Wan by the shoulder.

"How should’ve I known?!" he shot back, now also agitated, after the other had told him his parents practically considered them being already married.

"I brought you all these presents!"

"Friends do that from where I come from!"

"You kept my feather!"

"I thought it would be a great memento!"

"I let you touch my wings!!"

"How should I know that's considered to be something intimate?!"

Their voices got louder and louder, and their argument caught the attention of some unwanted spectators.

A group of young Fey had begun to follow their conversation behind some branches, but Obi-Wan didn’t acknowledge them, too angry and panicked at the moment.

Y/N's wings had begun to flip in obvious anger, while Obi-Wan furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"I literally danced for you at the courtship ceremony!"

Obi-Wan gnashed his teeth in frustration.

"How was I supposed to know it was about that?! Anakin only told me it was a dance performance!!"

"But you-you said I danced amazing and you loved it!”

The Jedi didn’t respond to that, only showing a guilty expression.

The Fey bit his lips when he finally realized how grave their misunderstanding was.

"I didn't know...", muttered Obi-Wan, feeling helpless because he knew he had hurt the other.

"Forget it," growled Y/N, then he turned in a swift motion and darted from the tree branch. His wings flapped with such a force that a few feathers fell.

The Jedi only watched how they slowly descended, and they seemed to represent his heart.

It sunk, and a sudden pain in his chest caused him to clench his jaw.

How should I have known?

He told himself that he had had no idea, but deep in his chest whispered a voice that he did. Y/N’s feelings were obvious.

Maybe he just didn’t want to acknowledge them, knowing that nothing could come out of their relationship.

Even if you do like me, Y/N, we can’t be together.

A few days passed, and the atmosphere had turned awkward.

Aster's sudden goodwill had as quickly disappeared as it had come.

After the chief had learned of the misunderstanding, he had almost attacked Obi-Wan. Neela held him back successfully though.

Anakin felt guilty for being partly at fault, and Ahsoka also apologized for not telling him what she had known about the courtship rules.

They spent their days waiting for any kind of sign of the Republic, and they became restless.

Obi-Wan felt genuinely guilty for misleading Y/N, and he grieved for their friendship, which seemed like it had already ended.

The Fey hadn't shown himself to any of the Jedi, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but worry because neither Neela nor Aster had seen their son after he and the Jedi had argued.

Then, one day, a Fey appeared in the great hall, informing Aster of the gigantic triangle that had appeared in the sky and the small flying objects that had landed somewhere close to the forest's border.

Anakin shouted triumphantly, and Obi-Wan felt relief wash over him.

But at the same time, he felt a pang in his chest.

He didn't want to leave, not before he cleared the bad blood between him and Y/N.

But Cody and Captain Rex found a scout of the tribe pretty soon, and they finally reunited only a week after the courtship ceremony.

"Good to see you alive and well, general," said Cody, and Obi-Wan smiled weakly at him.

"Good to see you too, commander."

The clones got accompanied by Plo Koon, and Ahsoka was delighted to see the Jedi master again.

While Anakin and his padawan were happy about their rescue, Obi-Wan couldn't stop himself from wishing they had come later. Now he wouldn’t get another chance to talk with Y/N.

He collected his belongings and hesitated when it came to Y/N's presents. The various crystals and shells on his nightstand.

He contemplated whether to take them with him or not, but the thought of leaving them behind hurt him and he decided to bring them home.

Although they had parted with sour feelings, he still appreciated the memories he had made with Y/N. And his heart honestly didn’t want to forget anything, not even the forehead, which apparently symbolized a kiss.

They Fey did not publicly kiss, one of the things they didn’t display to others, Ahsoka had told him.

When he heard about that, he couldn’t stop his brain from forming all kinds of thoughts and his ears had turned pink.

He walked up to me and kissed me, figuratively!

The misunderstanding was really a disaster.

He now also knew why the other Fey had treated him with more respect even though Aster seemed to hate him again.

It was because he was the object of the future tribe leader’s affections - although he had rejected him.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and left the room, Y/N’s presents stored in his backpack.

He bid farewell to Danosh and the other Fey who had treated him nicely and then joined Anakin and Ahsoka who waited with Cody, Captain Rex and some other clones next to Aster and Neela.

The tribe leader couple accompanied them to the ground and their canon gun ships.

Obi-Wan watched the ships from the border of the gigantic forest and his chest tightened.

Y/N...

He bit his lip, his heart now clenching from the idea of leaving and never coming back.

They were half way there, when Aster and Neela stopped walking.

“We’re not going any further”, explained the white-haired woman and Anakin sighed. He said goodbye first. The chief only nodded at him, but Neela gave him a long hug and whispered something into his ear, while caressing his hair.

Obi-Wan could see that the woman somewhat appeared to be like a mother-figure for Anakin. He felt the pain of saying goodbye in Anakin’s force presence.

Ahsoka also gave Neela a hug and she bowed at Aster who surprisingly patted her shoulder and said:

“Stay sharp, little one.”

The Togruta beamed and then it was Obi-Wan’s turn. He looked at the chief and behind the animosity in his eyes, he could see genuine regret.

He didn’t know what to say and just awkwardly stood there, when Aster coughed and grumbled:

“You would’ve been a splendid son-in-law.”

The Jedi blinked and Anakin couldn’t stop a snort, laughing silently at the blush that swept across his former master’s cheeks.

“Uh- thank you.”

“Obi-Wan,” said Neela and she opened her arms wide. He willingly walked into her embrace and she also caressed his hair, while hiding his embarrassment with her wings.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. If he couldn’t tell it Y/N personally, he would tell his mother.

“It’s alright. Y/N is a little hasty sometimes, especially when it comes to his feelings. I’m not trying to say he rushed into the idea of liking you...”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks heated up again, not knowing how to react when a woman, who was the mother of the man who liked him, openly talked about her son’s and his relationship.

“He’s genuine, but stubborn. He was born here and never set foot on another planet. You swept him off his feet and he got too excited, not registering that our manners and traditions are unknown to you.”

He nodded into her shoulders and she let him go to look into his face. Her blue eyes glimmered with kindness.

“I’m glad you were his first love.”

He blinked and her sentence hit him right in the gut. Oh, wow, he really hurt the man, huh.

She traced the line his knitted eyebrows made and smiled.

“It’s not your fault, Obi-Wan.”

He wanted to reply something but he had a lump in his throat and could only nod.

She let go of him and he stepped back, his expression showing how sad he was about their departure.

“Goodbye.”

The Jedi and clones turned and began to walk away. Every step physically hurt Obi-Wan and he breathed out shakily, face looking down to not see Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s possibly judging expressions.

Suddenly, a shadow sped across the plain and before he could look up, a person landed right before his feet, causing him to make a step back.

He tilted his head, startled, his eyes meeting e/c ones. Time seemed to stop.

"Obi-Wan," breathed Y/N and the Jedi's heart started to pound faster.

"You came," he hesitantly said, his tone revealed his relief.

"Yeah... I have to tell you something."

Obi-Wan turned his head to Anakin and the others, they feigned ignorance and acted as if they weren't listening closely to their conversation, although they were.

"O-Okay, but I want to tell you something t-"

"I fancy you."

Hearing that sentence directed at him caught Obi-Wan off guard.

Not that he never had been confronted by similar words, but it had never been in such a blunt fashion. And also not from a person he secretly liked too. Satine had been a different case.

A blush crept up his neck, cheeks and ears and he swallowed hard.

He had expected Y/N to tell him an apology or a goodbye, but not a love confession.

"I'm sorry. I projected my culture onto you and didn't consider your feelings."

Obi-Wan was flustered and he checked his surroundings again, the clones and the two Jedi now blatantly listening without even trying to hide their interest.

"I-I..." he began, not knowing what to say.

He knew he had to reject the Fey but his fluttering heart absolutely didn't want him to.

"I'm a Jedi, Y/N," he eventually said, his tone sounding pained, and Obi-Wan expected the other man's face to sadden, after all, he did tell him what that meant when it came to attachments, but the Fey's smile stayed on his lips.

"I know. I just wanted to tell you properly."

The smile was the same radiating one he had flashed him after the courtship dance.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, contemplated for a second and then, without hesitation, he took a step forward and grabbed Y/N's face to bring their heads together.

Their foreheads touched and the man's eyes widened.

Obi-Wan locked his gaze with his and the Fey sighed, now pressing his head closer and putting his hand on both side’s of his neck..

"You're making this very hard," he muttered accusingly, while tracing Obi-Wan’s carotid artery.

The Jedi laughed weakly, the pain in his chest swelling.

"I know, I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes and breathed in, the smell of damp soil, fruits and leather filled his nose and Obi-Wan tried to engrave the scent in his mind.

"At one point we'll have to stop," whispered Y/N and he grumbled.

"I'm just soaking you in", he replied, eyes still closed.

I don’t want to let go.

He heard the Fey breath out slowly.

Then the man moved away.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes in protest, then his hand got grabbed, and Y/N kissed him.

The Jedi's eyes widened and he remembered that Anakin, Ahsoka and the clones were watching, but his reason got thrown out of the window by his heart and he returned the kiss.

It was a short and bittersweet one. Just like their relationship.

Like the Batellia flower, their love finished before it could even properly bloom.

But Obi-Wan did not look back at these four weeks with regret.

After he had returned to Coruscant and continued fighting in the war, he would often smile at random times, his hands buried in his robes, where he caressed a soft feather.

And he could be damn sure that on a small planet in the Outer Rims, a Fey would trace the faint glow of a blue kyber crystal, he always had with him around his neck.

And who knows, maybe they’ll meet again.

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