#I cannot emphasize just how much I love drawing characters smiling like there’s no tomorrow

[deadbaguette]

Just like when we were young

[starlxghtmoon]

Spread Your Wings || Chapter Two

Pairing: Hawks x Reader || Tangled AU

Warnings: Possible gaslighting, potential indirect emotional abuse and manipulation.

Word Count: 2,408 words

A/N: Another shitty one ;-; but hey! two chapters in one day sounds like a win to me. This one’s more plot, I believe in the next chapter there will be an interraction between hawks and you! which will be much more fun to write! i’m sorry for making midnight the villain here, but i cannot see anyone else as mother gothel ajbfkjkjsoajnwoin anyways, enjoy!

Disclaimer:  I do not own BNHA or Tangled, both and all characters except OCs [Mimi the cat] belong to their respective creators. This is purely creative fun. 

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Masterlist

"This is it!" You excitedly put away your paints, Mimi helping by putting away a couple paint brushes with you. "This is a very big day, Mimi!" You picked the midnight black cat up and nuzzled your face into her fur. You'd been hyping yourself up for this moment, with the help of Mimi of course, she'd been supporting you through it all. Pulling her back from your shoulder, you held her up in front of you under her arms, "I'm finally gonna do it! I'm gonna ask her."

"Y/N!" Your mother called from outside, your ears perking up at the familiar sound of her voice, your gaze drawing to the window "Let down your hair!"

You were bubbling over with uncontrollable joy, hopeful that your mother would let you leave to see the lights. You could hear her words already. “It’s time!” Mimi meowed in approval, her tail swishing around, sharing in your excitement. “Okay, okay. You have to go hide now. Don’t let her see you.” You set Mimi down, letting her hide behind the curtains as you pulled them in front of her to make sure she was hidden.

“Y/N! I’m not getting any younger down here!”

You rushed up to the window, “Coming, Mother!” And proceeded to gather up your hair, securing it on the hook outside the window. Hauling a whole human up with your hair alone was hard work, you pulled and pulled and pulled until she came into your sights, helping her inside. “Hi. Welcome home, Mother.” You greeted as she made her entrance.

“Ugh, Y/N, how do you manage to do that every single day without fail.” She feigned, placing a hand over her heart as she approached you, grey streaking through her inky black hair. “It looks absolutely exhausting, darling.” She reached forward to push your hair back and gave you a frown of pity.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You chuckled nervously.

“Then I don’t know why it takes so long.” She tapped your nose, making your smile drop a little and she gave an empty laugh as she immediately followed with, “Oh, darling, I’m just teasing.” You let out another awkward chuckle as she walked past you.

“Alright. So, Mother, as you know tomorrow is a very big day-”

“Y/N, look in that mirror.” She cut you off, pulling you up beside her in view of the mirror. “You know what I see? I see a strong, confident, beautiful young lady.” A smile stretched across your face, your heart swelling with pride. “Oh, look, you’re here too.” And just like that, your pride was shattered. Internally you shrunk into yourself, your smile falling as you side eyed Midnight and she let out a cackle. “I’m just teasing. Stop taking everything so seriously.” Can’t she ever just say something nice about me? You thought to yourself as she elbowed you, making you step back while she leaned forward and examined her face, poking and prodding.

“Okay. So, Mother, as I was saying, tomorrow is-”

You tried to pipe up, but she cut you off again, “Y/N, Mother’s feeling a little run-down. Would you sing for me, dear? Then we’ll talk.”

“Oh! Of course, Mother!” You were overjoyed, happily obeying and rushing to set up your seats and grab your brush. Shoving the brush and your hair into her hands, you plopped yourself down on the stool in front of her, quickly singing the song, “Flowergleamandglowletyourpowershinemaketheclockreverse-”

“Wait!” Your mother shouted, but you continued to rush through the song as your hair emanated it’s f/c glow.

“-bringbackwhatoncewasmine.” Mother Midnight tried to keep up, quickly trying to brush your hair. “Healwhathasbeenhurtchangefate’sdesignsavewhathasbeenlostbringbackwhatoncewasmine.” 

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, giving you an exasperated look, but you ignored it and launched yourself at her excitedly, making her reel back in surprise.

“So, Mother, earlier I was saying tomorrow is a pretty big day, and you didn’t respond.” You backed down and sat back down, zooming through your words, you were eager for her response. “So, I’m just gonna tell you, it’s my birthday!” You latched onto her arm, grinning up at her with a laugh, “Ta-da!”

She detached you from her, making you let go of her arm as she shook her head, “No, no, no. Can’t be. I distinctly remember. Your birthday was last year.”

You internally sighed, but kept up your optimism, “That’s the funny thing about birthdays. They’re kind of an annual thing.” You offered, leaning forward as she kept her stare on you, she was smiling, but it felt condescending and made you shrink back with a sigh before sitting yourself back on the stool and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Mother, I’m turning 18, and I wanted to ask…” You sighed heavily again, almost chickening out of the question, “What I really want for this birthday… Actually what I wanted for quite a few birthdays now…” You were starting to get distracted, messing with your hair.

“Ah- okay. Y/N, please, stop with the mumbling.” She stopped your rant, making you look back at her, “You know how I feel about the mumbling. Blah-blah-blah-blah.” She mocked you, waving her hand around and rolling her eyes as she talked down to you, “It’s very annoying! I’m just teasing. You’re adorable. I love you so much, darling.” It was dizzying the way she switched around from brash and condescending to playful and loving, talking to you with a babied voice as if you were still a child. She pinched at your cheek as she stood and you watched her walk away. You let out a dejected breath, it was as if she didn’t want to hear about what you wanted for your birthday. It was… disheartening, your chest ached longingly, you just wanted her to listen to you for once. 

A quiet meow that only reached your ears caught your attention, looking over, your eyes met with Mimi, she nodded at you, giving an encouraging wave of her paw. You got this. You could hear, making you give a tight lipped smile. You deeply appreciated her support.

“Ugh,” You exclaimed, facing your mother. “I wanna see the floating lights.” Your words made her pause as she grabbed an apple and put it back down.

She scoffed out a chuckle and looked over at you, “What?”

“Oh. Well, I was hoping you would take me to see the floating lights.” You stepped up on the stool and pulled back the curtain hiding your newest painting.

“Oh! You mean the stars.” She proceeded to pick the fruits from her basket.

“That’s the thing.” You used your hair to tug open one of the ceiling windows for better lighting as you elaborated for Mother Midnight about the floating lights, “I’ve charted stars and they’re always constant. But these lights only appear every year on my birthday, Mother. Only on my birthday.” You emphasized before continuing, “And I can’t help but feel like they’re meant for me.” You were pouring your heart out to her, telling her your deepest wish and she was listening, but then she walked away, “I need to see them, Mother. And not just from my window, in person. I have to know what they are.”

“You want to go outside?” She scoffed as she approached the window, “Why, Y/N.” She closed the shutters and walked back over to you. “Look at you, as fragile as a flower.” She reached out to you and took your arms, swinging around with you. “Still a little sapling, just a sprout.” She patted your head, “You know why we stay up in this tower.”

“I know, but-”

“That’s right.” She swooped behind you and grabbed your hair, nuzzling her face into it, “To keep you safe and sound, dear.” She walked over to the other windows, dramatically pulling the curtains closed. “I always knew this day was coming. Knew that soon you’d want to leave the nest.” She walked past you and to the stairs, “Soon, but not yet.” 

You approached her to try to convince her, “But-!”

She silenced you, placing a finger over your lips with a hushh, “Shh! Trust me, pet. Mother knows best.” With a thud, all the windows and hatches closed, shrouding the room in complete darkness, making panic arise in your chest as all you could see was black. You searched for a candle to use as a light source. Finding one and lighting it, you felt a bit more at ease. 

“Mother knows best, listen to your Mother.

It’s a scary world out there.”

You were taken aback by your own scream, recoiling as she appeared from the shadows, shocking you with the surprise before she retreated back into the shadows. As you backed away and cautiously looked around, a tug on your hair made you gasp, the force of the tug pulling you back. You tried to jump away, but had to put down the candle to try to get your hair back, tugging on it with all your strength.

“Mother knows best.

One way or another something will go wrong, I swear.”

Suddenly the hold on your hair gave and you fell backwards right into the only source of light, your mother had caught you, but then she disappeared again. 

“Ruffians, thugs, poison ivy, quicksand.

Cannibals and snakes, the plague.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

She was just trying to scare you, you knew she was. Yet, it was working. You trusted her, she was all you had. You didn’t want to go outside and something go completely wrong. You didn’t want to be kidnapped or murdered, have evil men try to steal your extraordinary gift. It was a scary thought and it made you so paranoid that you wanted to stay inside. Why was the world so cruel? 

“Also large bugs

Men with pointy teeth.”

You were harshly shoved forward, letting out a yelp as you hit the ground, your gaze was met with a crude painting of a man with pointy teeth. The sight made you scramble back.

“And stop! No more, you’ll just upset me.”

You wrapped yourself up in your hair, an attempt to protect yourself from your mother’s cruel scare tactics. You just wanted it to stop, but she kept going. This is what she wanted, she wanted you to be as scared as possible. You’ve never been outside, you’ve never seen a man. Yet they scared you. You were so naive. You didn’t know anything. And because Midnight was so selfish to stall her own time, she stalled yours as well by keeping you all to herself, keeping you hidden away, too scared to leave on your own.

“Mother’s right here.

Mother will protect you.”

She took your hand and yanked you up. Yeah, she will protect you. You had nothing to be afraid of as long as she were there to keep you safe. Without her, you wouldn’t survive. You knew nothing, but she knew everything. You needed her.

“Darling, here’s what I suggest.

Skip the drama, stay with Mama.

Mother knows best.”

With a wave of her cape, it was dark again, so you went to relight all the candles, carefully relighting them one by one, casting light in the room once more.

“Mother knows best.

Take it from your mumsy, on your own you won’t survive.”

You cautiously watched your surroundings, backing away before you spun around, being met with your own reflection as hands rose from behind it and gripped onto the frame before Midnight’s face popped up from behind it, eyes trained on you.

“Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy.”

She pointed out your imperfections, making you a bit insecure about yourself. She then proceeded to tug on your hair, making you slip and fall before rolling you up in your own hair.

“Please, they’ll eat you up alive. 

Gullible, naive, positively grubby.

Ditsy and a bit… well, hmm, vague.”

As she stood you up, she pulled on your hair, unwrapping you from it and making you spin around, getting a bit dizzy before falling into her. She looked down at you and tilted your chin up and examined your frame.

“Plus, I believe, getting kind of chubby.

I’m just saying ‘cause I wuv you.”

Her words stung a little, the comments about your appearance certainly stuck, but her sweet reassurances of love were like rubbing sugar into your wounds. Did she really love you? Or was she just saying that to make it better? Roughly squishing your cheeks together, she let you go, making you lose balance.

“Mother understands,

Mother’s here to help you.”

The lights went out again, making you yelp out in fear. Where’d she go? Is she still here? You knew she was, but that deep rooted fear of abandonment clenched at your heart. You didn’t want to be left alone. To be left behind to fend for yourself against the world that felt so scary. It’s was an extremely conflicting idea. Wanting to explore the world, yet being so afraid of it. Having a mother scare you into staying inside, being aware that she was doing it on purpose, yet being obedient anyways. You didn’t know, you didn’t know anything, you had no experience to tell if she was lying. She was the only person you could trust.

“All I have is one request.”

She magically reappeared again, holding her arms out to welcome you into her embrace and you took it. Running into her arms, you wrapped yours around her. This felt safe, this felt right. She’s the only person who could protect you. Soothingly, Midnight pet your hair, reciprocating the comforting embrace.

“Y/N?”

Looking up at her, you pulled back and she held onto your shoulders, smiling down at you as you smiled up at her, “Yes?”

“Don’t ever ask to leave this tower again.” Her expression turned dark, making your smile fall as you shrink back a little.

Sighing softly, you looked down as you answered. “Yes, Mother.”

“Oh.” She made a noise of pity, watching your sad expression before taking your chin and tilting your head up, “I love you very much, dear.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.” She kissed the top of your head before pulling back again and tapping your nose. “Don’t forget it, you’ll regret it… Mother knows best.” Midnight backed away, going to leave once more. You let your facade fall, your eyes casting to the ground, an ache in your heart. Maybe it was for the best that you don’t leave.

[littleshebear]

Memories (Someone We'll Never know) Pt 1.

Destiny fic. An Awoken child dreams of Earth while dealing with the limitations of life in the Reef.

Not canon. Doesn’t contradict any established canon afaik but here be headcanons. Shout out to @angedeverdun for the beta, thank you for putting up with my rambling about a game you don’t play. I don’t own these characters/settings, Bungie does. I’m just playing with them like bendy toys.

Destiny | The Reef | The Awoken | Zavala | Tags are spoilers | Gratuitous poetry | Telepathy shenanigans | Impending Heartbreak |

Any child of the Reef understands the importance of The Rules and often have them committed to memory long before they are capable of writing them down. Obey your parents. Listen to your teachers. Respect the Queen. Always ask permission before Linking with someone. Stay away from the airlocks. Never waste water.

Sofia is eight years old and beginning to grasp that The Rules are not just for children. She has a vague understanding that her very existence is a result of her parents following The Rules diligently enough to be granted permission to have a child. Now and then, she’ll ask her parents if she’ll ever have a brother or sister. After all, the Queen has a brother, why shouldn’t she? Mama always smiles and says they must wait and see what They say (“They” are the people who make The Rules but she’s not entirely sure who “They” are beyond the Queen and Prince Uldren). If They think the hydroponics bay is producing enough food, if They think there is enough potable water, if They think the atmospheric systems can handle it, then They may authorise that tiny, longed-for population increase.

Papa seldom says anything when she asks, he just sighs and clenches his jaw. Very occasionally, he will mutter something along the lines of, “It shouldn’t matter what They think,” Mama always shoots him a warning look and he does not say any more. Papa does not much like Them, or the Queen, so Sofia has one extra rule to remember: Never repeat what Papa says about the Queen outside.

~*~

Sofia is bored. She has finished her homework, Mama is out working in the hangar bay and Papa is at home but he is reading. He is always reading, every chance he gets. Mama often teases Papa about it, she says he should have been a Cryptarch. She is not really joking though, not really. She probably would have preferred that, she would worry about him a lot less. Sofia knows Papa is smart, definitely smart enough to be a Cryptarch but she just cannot imagine him being cooped up in the libraries of 10 Hygiea. Besides, that is another thing Papa likes to mutter about, he does not approve of the Cryptarchy’s obsession with locking knowledge away in engrams.

Sofia walks circuits of their modest quarters, performatively sighing and swinging her arms.  “What’s the matter?” Papa asks, peering at her over his book. She crosses over to him, taking some satisfaction from the fact that her theatrics succeeded in distracting him from his studies.

“ ‘M bored,” she mumbles, flopping against Papa’s side, as though the ennui is so crushing she can barely stand. “Can we go to the observation deck? I’m bored.” In these moments, Sofia thinks she would like to be a Corsair like Papa. The Reef is so confining with so little space and so many rules, it must be exciting to explore beyond the asteroid belt, salvage ships, fight off marauding Fallen (but oh, how Mama would worry if both her husband and daughter were to venture into such danger).

“No, it’s nearly time for your bed,” Papa replies. His tone of voice is not too stern but he has a way of making it clear that his word is final.

“It’s too cramped in here, I want to see the stars.”

“I can take you tomorrow, I’m off-duty.” He smiles faintly, “If you think this is cramped, you should have seen the pod your mother and I were assigned after we got married. It wasn’t much more than a wardrobe. This is positively palatial compared to that.”

“They could have given us a window,” she complains sullenly before launching into another dramatic sigh. “Papa, I’m bored!” She emphases the last syllable, drawing it out because Papa clearly did not hear her the first two times she said it.

“Come here, Starshine,” he pats his knee, motioning for her to sit, “come read with me.”

Sofia wrinkles her nose, they make her read in school. She never understood why Papa reads for fun but she clambers into his lap nevertheless. She peers at the title at the top of the page: This Lime Tree Bower My Prison. She immediately starts firing questions at him:

“What’s a lime tree?”

 “It’s a tree that limes grow on.”

“What’s a lime?”

“It’s a type of fruit, we don’t have them here, they only grow on Earth”

“What are they like?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never tasted one. They’re green, I know that much.”

“Oh. What’s a bower?”

“It’s…” Papa pauses to search for the right words. “It’s like a shelter formed from tree branches.”

“So, someone chopped off the branches and built it?”

“No, no, the trees grow that way, it’s a natural canopy.” Sofia frowns, trying hard to visualise something that could come into being without being designed, crafted and manufactured by people. The only world Sofia has ever known consists of the man-made and space, nothing else.

“How can that be a prison?” Sofia doesn’t know much about trees, having never seen a tree in real life but she is fairly certain you cannot lock someone up in one.

“Why don’t we read on and find out?”

It takes a long time for them to reach the end of the poem. They take frequent breaks for Sofia to ask the meanings of certain words or to insist that Papa describe natural phenomena that he has no more direct experience of than she does. He does not begrudge the near constant interruptions, he never loses his patience. He is happy to take the time to explain that no, leaves do not have to be green, they can be other colours too, or that a rook is a type of crow (no, not like Prince Uldren’s crows, this is a real bird) and yes, waterfalls do exist. Sofia says she understands but the look of wonder on her face at the thought of such an abundance of water suggests she does not truly grasp it.

“What do you think?” Papa asks once the barrage of questions ends.

“If he was so sad, why didn’t he just go with his friends?”

“I don’t think he could, I’m not sure why. We’ll have to ask the Cryptarchs if anyone knows.” Papa runs his finger across the final lines of the poem, “But it didn’t really matter by the end, did it?”

Sofia considers her answer. “No, because he was happy that his friends were happy.” She sits up straight as a thought occurs to her. “How did he see what they did? Was he Linking with them?”

Papa laughs softly, “No. No Sofie, he just imagined being with them. This was written by a human, hundreds of years ago. Humans can’t Link.”

Sofia settles back down and rests her head against Papa’s chest. She feels a sudden pang of sympathy for her human cousins back on Earth. She mentally reaches out to her father, tugging gently at the edges of his thoughts.  The response is instantaneous. Suddenly he is there, in her head, his mind enveloping hers like a blanket.

“What’s wrong, Starshine?”

“You said humans can’t Link. It must be lonely,” The sensations of warmth and safety emanating from Papa compound her sadness. She cannot imagine what it must be like to never feel her parents’ love for her. She doesn’t want to.

“Well,” he begins in a reassuring tone, “you can’t feel the loss of something if you’ve never experienced it, so they’re probably okay.”

“That’s not true. You’ve never been to Earth but you miss it. That’s why you read about it all the time.”

Papa does not try to deny it, he cannot lie to her, not while they are Linked. “I…I’m curious about it. I’m not sure we should have abandoned it.”

“It does sound nice.” Her melancholy gives way to a sharp spike of excitement that echoes around Papa’s mind like birdsong. “Does water really fall from the sky on Earth?”

“It does. There’s rain, rivers, oceans. More water than you could ever dream of.”

“Can we go there?” She has a feeling that this is most likely against The Rules so she adds, “One day?”

“Perhaps.” Sofia senses a hint of frustration in his emotions. “It depends what They say.”

Sofia sighs. Them again. “We’ll go,” she states, her childish confidence is an unstoppable force that has not encountered the immovable object of politics yet. “We will.”

“You mother would have to agree to it as well. She might take more convincing than the Queen.”

“Just tell her about the water.” Sofia is convinced this strategy cannot fail because Mama hates water rationing.

“I’ll do that.”

“Will Mama be home soon?” Sofia swallows a yawn, determined to stay awake until her mother returns from work.

“Not for a while yet.” Sofia can feel her eyelids growing heavy so she curls into Papa’s embrace. They are still Linked and he is thinking about music now; a soothing, plangent melody she does not recognise (where does he learn all this? He should have been a Cryptarch). Papa gently gathers her into his arms and carries her to the cupboard that passes for her bedroom. She grumbles in protest when he lays her on her bed but he shushes her softly and bids her to sleep through the Link.  It is more effective than any lullaby. “She’ll be here when you wake.”

When sleep takes her, she dreams of roaring brooks, calling birds and how wonderful it would be to swap the prison of a cramped, windowless pod for a sun-dappled bower.

~*~

Notes:

The title comes from the Moon OST by Clint Mansell. It was a working title originally but it just stuck.

The Link is my name for the Awoken’s latent telepathic abilities. The canon doesn’t make it clear what the extent of those abilities are but we know the Queen can communicate over vast distances with the help of the Techeuns. The very fact that she was expecting a reply implies these sorts of abilities aren’t limited to the Queen (though she’s likely the most powerful). Awoken can hear the stars “sing” to them and have visions so, yes, I think it’s fair to say even the most ordinary Awoken have some telepathic ability.

This Lime Tree Bower My Prison was written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge and he couldn’t go hiking with his friends because his wife had spilled boiling milk over his foot. Ow.