#and as a result they are very protective over 'their littlest brother'

[astrummorte-m]

"Well! Isn't this a surprise for little ol' me~ what brings you around here, boss~?"

@iiroiiros scaramouche & xayi/"x".

[wordy-little-witch]

What are the Strawhat Pirates reaction to Atlas?

All in all?

I can really see Nami and Zoro being Wildly Uncertain About This Child. For one, he's a tiny Buggy Seraphim. For another, he's.... gosh he's kinda dripping with trauma somehow?? Not sure how to react to all of that, really.

Zoror eventually settles on semi-distant acceptance. His not-dad adopted this one so it's kind of like having a step brother? Adopted brother? Small sibling. He doesn't know. Kid's pretty funny though, he's about this.

Nami meanwhile oscillates between Indifference and Wanting To Be The Cool Cousin. She isn't sure how to react or treat the kid ((interacting with children is.... wonky for her)). But once she and Atlas both warm up to each other, That's Her Best Friend. Matching sunglasses, both sipping fancy coffee/juice, Heavily Judging the fashion sense of those around them. ((Nami also knows SOME sign bc after Belle-mére's death, she had a stint of being semi verbal and Hachi taught her some)).

Usopp is SO EXCITED and also high key terrified. Kids, to him, kinda.... circumvent the Horrors. 11/10 Babysitter, cries when Atlas dubs him big brother Usopp, can and will put this child in his bag and go on "'"adventures"'". He's honestly less intimidated by Atlas than he is Birdie and Angel, but very quickly warms up to all three. Is one of the boys' most favorite Strawhats.

Sanji takes one look at this kid and goes "Oh. What the fuck happened here???" Atlas has some trauma red flags, and given that he is currently being raised by Buggy, Mihawk and Crocodile, he kind of immediately gets suspicious and defensive with them. Soon warms up and realizes that they are not in fact hurting the kid (any of them, since all three are a little Not Good in varying visibility), that the redflags are genetic memory imposed and that the three Guild leaders are actively trying to help. Regardless, while he is semi awkward with the kids, he makes it his mission to spoil them with fun snacks, treats, etc.

Chopper is sliiightly over protective but to comical results. Has a boo-boo kit that rarely gets used, and even when it does, it's mostly for playtime. Speaking of, PLAYMATE PLAYMATE PLAYMATE. Chopper really loves them all, and while he does worry a lot, he adores all three of the boys. Atlas specifically piques his interest as a doctor and a friend. AuDHD to AuDHD communication

Robin Is A Wine Aunt And She Is Thriving. She's relatively hands off but still vigilant to make sure everyone is safe. Atlas specifically tugs her heart strings, and when he lit up when she greeted him fluidly in sign, she damn near melted. He's so cute. She enjoys babysitting him especially ((Birdie and Angel too but in different ways)) because Atlas, much like his mama and much like auntie Robin, has a THIRST for knowledge. He loves reading and telling her all about his newest interests. She thinks he's cute as a button.

Franky thinks the seraphim are fascinating from a clinical stand point and outright abhorrent from an ethical perspective. He's just glad they have a family now, especially one that loves them so much. He also enjoys anyone who thinks something is SUPERRRR. Excitable kids? Excitable kids who are basically family themselves? Can't get more super than that. ((Absolutely the type of uncle-figure who loads them up on sugar, soda, etc and sends them home.))

Brook was nervous at that first meeting ngl. He's a skeleton. He's funny, yeah!! But kids.... are hit or miss - usually the latter. Except these little guys think he's SO COOL and their little starry eyes are adorable and charming and his heart is fit to burst - if he had one that is yohohoho~ ((Bonus points, Atlas loves skeleton puns and they can go for HOURS if not stopped or evened out by a third party)). And the littlest Seraphim is also... very cuddly when he's tired. It worried Brook at first, when he was there around nap time and Atlas wandered to him. Bone isn't exactly the best for cuddles, after all. But At just shook his head with a smile and replied warm inside, all I need, Brook-uncle gives good hugs. Sleep please? And who is Brook to turn down a sleepy child with such a sweet smile? Also the kid likes music, so extra bonus points!!!

Jimbei wasn't exactly hard certain on anything going into this, but Atlas is charming and cute and called him uncle and listen he's a simple man with a big heart and cute kids have a free pass to nuzzle right on in there against his will. He's one of few Buggy, Mihawk and Crocodile would trust fully with the kids longer than a few hours at a time. He probably teaches the kids martial arts and then releases them to cause safe chaos.

And best for last -> Luffy Is Vibrating. The kids are like. Step-sibling/cousins, and he LOVES them!!! So much!!!! Atlas is cuddly and Luffy is cuddly!! Atlas likes pranks and LUFFY LIKES PRANKS!!!!! They're two peas in a pod, and somehow when the two get together, Luffy actually has the braincell, much to everyone else's terror. He's protective and warm and playful and kinda.... almost mature. It's adorable. Atlas had some reservations - new people is hard enough but the hat... - and when Luffy seemed to pick up on that, he let it hang behind his shoulders. And when Atlas inevitably looks at it, so lost and mixed, Luffy would probably offer it over with a soft smile. And Atlas would cry. And Luffy would hold him as best he can with rubbery warm arms and a heart bursting with care. ((And when Buggy catches sight sometime later of the boys all playing and he sees his littlest boy laughing freely with a painfully familiar hat tipping over his eyes, swamping his kitty cat beanie, as a dark haired young man chases after him with a grin? Well... his tears are private, and so is the hurt and healing within))

[avalon821]

Brief Character Profiles

Tyr Haragin |Warrior of Light| |My Main|

(Tag: Tyr, Tyr Haragin)

Xaela originally from Werlyt. He’s only been in Eorzea for about a year before the start of ARR. Generally a nice if oblivious guy with a case of resting bitch face. Loves to fight and go into weird pits. Canon weaver and culinarian. Has a complex about duty and making sure the people he cares about are okay. Is very protective as a result. His main classes are dragoon and dark knight. The beginning of SHB is when he swaps over to dark knight.

He has/had 3 parents, his mom, his dad, and his other dad, and an older sister. After the empire invaded he was left with just one of his fathers.

(Npc Ships: G’raha, Estinien)

Monroe Swan |Warrior of Light|

(Tags: Monroe, Monroe Swan)

Viera from Limsa Lominsa. She’s lived in Eorzea her whole life and always has had a desire to see more. After the calamity she had a crisis about her own uselessness. At the start of ARR she’s basically out trying to find out more about herself. She has issues with identity, being useful, and vulnerability. She’s a bard up until the SB lead up where she switches to machinist, post endwalker she swaps between the two.

She’s an orphan. She has a group she considers her “siblings” but she’s afraid that it will turn out that she cared more about them than they cared about her.

(Npc Ships: Aymeric)

Freya Voras |non-wol|

(Tags: Freya Voras)

Viera. Former matriarch of her village, Freya has been out on a vacation for the past decade or so. Summed up she’s basically a milf. Mostly a non combatant, but is more of a healer. She is very caring and calm, very little phases her.

Her family is her village and her children who have gone out into the world.

(Npc ships: Merylwyb)

Kuzhuk |non-wol|

(Tags: Kuzhuk)

A xaela banished from his tribe for killing his brother and general assholeness, he now lives on the edges of society and mostly hangs out in the wilderness. Has a small place on the edge of the territory of Freya’s village. He regrets his past attitude and actions and now really hates himself. Man of few words. His class is warrior. Doesn’t wear proper shirts. Does not like cities.

(Npc Ships: n/a)

Andvari Voras |non wol|

(Tags: Andvari Voras)

One of Freya’s many sons, yet their relationship is strained. On the cusp of adulthood, Andvari stumbled upon a void gate. From this unfortunate encounter, he improperly rejoined with his equivalent on the 13th, and now deals with a hungry voidsent tag along. Out of fear he flees his woods and ends up in Ul’dah, eventually joining the Lemures. While they can’t provide an explanation or solution, they can provide guidance and targets for his passenger. He very much has no idea what he’s doing and is generally very grumpy.

(Npc ships: n/a)

Freya, Kuzhuk,& Andvari screenshots done by @the-littlest-kojin

[fandom-puff]

Involved

Pairing: no pairing  Requested by:  anon Prompts: // Summary: Being the littlest sister is often the best thing in the world. But sometimes, YN Shelby wants nothing more than to be involved with her older siblings... AN: Okay, so this is only my second shelby sister fic, so it might not be brilliant. If you’re looking for amazing shelby sis fics, I’d definitely recommend @theshelbyclan​ <3 Also, Finn is about 13/14 in this, and the reader is about 7/8. as usual, gif creds to owner Warnings: swearing, violence 

Being the baby of the family was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, your brothers and sister doted on you, often slipping you sweets and lollies when Pol said you couldn’t have them. They were fiercely protective of you, and no one could make Tommy, Arthur and John smile and laugh like you could. You loved when Arthur would let you sit on his shoulders (especially good when they took you to fairs, as you were too short to see over the crowds), when Tommy sat and read to you, when John played chase. 

But lately, all they spoke about was business and men with strange names like Solomons and Sabini. Even Finn, who was closest to you in age, was starting to spend more time with the older brothers and less time with you. 

“Tommy?” you asked across the table as you munched on your toast. Tommy didn’t look up from his stack of paperwork. You frowned. “Tommy?” you said a little louder. 

“What, YN?” he said, a sharp edge in his voice that he never used with you (even when you had accidentally used a very important document to draw on). Your lower lip wobbled slightly and you ran off, your chair toppling over. Tommy rolled his eyes. He really had no time for your tantrums, not today at least. 

You carried on running until you reached John’s house. You knocked on the door. “YN, what’s up, love?” John asked, although he seemed very distracted. 

“Please can I play with Katie, John?” you asked. John smiled sadly and ruffled your hair. 

“Afraid not, YNN,” he said gently. “She wasn’t feeling very well last night. She’s stuck in bed today. I thought Tom was looking after you,” 

“He was. But he’s doing business. I got bored and was gonna ask if I could go and play, but he snapped at me before I could ask so I just thought I would leave him alone while he’s busy, ‘cos I don’t want him to be cross with me,” you looked at your feet. Although Tommy snapping and doing business was nothing new, John could see that it had upset you. 

“Go home, YN,” he said softly, squatting down until you were eye level. “Katie will be better in a day or two, I’ll send her down to play when she is, alright? In the meantime, Finn will be back soon. Maybe you could convince him and Isaiah to get up to mischief, eh?” 

Feeling a little better, you nodded, throwing your arms around John’s neck briefly. “Okay! See you in a bit, John. Tell Katie I said to get better quick!” you tore off into a sprint back home, excited by the prospect of hanging around with Finn and Isaiah. John shook his head fondly and went back inside. 

You burst through the front door, calling for Finn. He poked his head round the kitchen door and grinned at you. “C’mon, YN,” he grinned, dragging Isaiah behind him. “Let’s go somewhere fun, away from that grump in there,” he murmured the last bit so Tommy wouldn’t hear him. 

You were more than happy to follow along, eager to not be on the receiving end of tommy’s temper. You chattered happily to the boys (and learned a new swear word from them which you had to promise not to repeat in front of aunt pol) as you sauntered to the old warehouse which had been converted to a boxing ring. You hung away from the door, shuffling your feet slightly. “Tommy says I’m not allowed to go boxing,” you told them. 

“Tommy ain’t here though, YN,” Isaiah said, nudging your shoulder. 

“Yeah. I’m in charge of you, and I say it’s okay,” Finn said, puffing his chest out importantly. You giggled and nodded. 

“Alright then,” you said, grinning. 

You let them take you in. A few people murmured about the presence of a little girl in this predominantly male run backstreet boxing ring, but soon shut up when they saw that you were a Shelby. You sat at the edge of the ring as Finn and Isaiah began boxing with eachother. They let you play as the referee, purposefully making cheap shots to get told off, trying not to burst out laughing at the sound of your firm, yet higher pitched voice as you tried to do your best Aunt Polly impression. 

There was a sudden commotion at the other side of the warehouse, and everyone froze. 

“He’s lost it again!” you heard someone shout out, and you frowned, looking between Finn and Isaiah as they exchanged worried looks. 

“Arthur, pack it in! Arthur! Get off him!” 

you gasped, knowing in your gut that they were talking about your big brother. While you didn’t really understand what your brothers did for a living, you often saw the end results, asking questions about the black eyes and cuts they had on their faces. 

“Get her home, Shelby. She don’t need to see this,” one man said to Finn and he nodded. 

“Er... come on, YN... we’ll stop by the bakery on the way back,” Finn said, though you noticed the wobble in his voice. As you were walked away, you turned to see Arthur, his trembling hands stained red, a glazed look in his eyes as the boy’s body was dragged away. 

***

“Tommy, Arthur’s lost it again, down the warehouse!” Finn called as you slipped into the house. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Tommy groaned. “I swear to god, Finn, if I find out you’ve taken YN to that fucking boxing ring again, I’ll skin you,” 

The door slammed shut and your lip wobbled. “What’s this about YN going to the boxing ring?” came the sharp voice of Polly. You tucked your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them. “Finn Shelby, if you’ve let your little sister box with you lot-” you wrapped your arms around Polly’s waist, hiding your face. She soon felt tears soaking through her blouse and sighed softly, stroking your hair. “What’s happened, love?” she said soothingly. “Aunt Pol’s listening,” 

You looked up at her and bit your lip slightly. “I-I wanted to go and play with Katie so Tommy wouldn’t be cross at me while he was working, but John said she wasn’t well, so I came home, and- and Finn and isaiah said we could go to the boxing ring ‘cos Finn was in charge not Tommy, and I just wanted to play referees with them b-but...” a fresh load of tears rolled down your cheeks. “But... but then everyone started shouting, saying Arthur had lost it again, a-and when we were leaving, I saw him... but he didn’t look like arthur, Aunt Pol,” You shook your head as if trying to shake away the memory. “His eyes were weird and... and he was all bloody,” 

Polly said nothing, instead drawing you into her chest and letting you cry, stroking your hair and rubbing your back. Once you had calmed down, she held you at arms length. “Sometimes, YN, the boys get very upset, and very angry about what happened to them in France. They can’t help it. It creeps up on them when they least expect it. But you mustn’t be frightened of it, alright? They are still your brothers and they all love you very dearly, d’you understand me?” 

You nodded quickly. “I’m not scared, Aunt Pol. Not even of Tommy when he’s cross with me. Not even of Arthur when he’s cross with himself,” you said. Polly smiled slightly and kissed you on the forehead. 

“Good girl, c’mon, put your cardigan on. You can come to the market with me while the boys sort themselves out,” 

*** 

That night, when everyone had gone to sleep, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. You should’ve been asleep ages ago, but you didn’t care. Silent as a mouse, you crept out of the room that you used to share with Ada before she went to London, careful not to tread on the squeaky floorboards. You stopped outside your oldest brother’s bedroom and eased the door open so it didn’t creak and startle him. 

Arthur wasn’t asleep either. his back was to you, but you could see his shoulders shaking slightly as he cried, his fist shoved in his mouth to keep quiet. “Arthur?” you whispered. He turned around, shoving the tears off his face. 

“YN, what’re you doing out of bed, eh? It’s a bit late,” he said. You walked over to him and clambered into his bed despite him saying he was okay. “You’re not frightened of me, YN? You... you saw what happened today, love, didn’t you? Why aren’t you scared?” 

you snuggled into his side and squeezed his hand. “’Cos you’re my big brother, Arthur, that’s why,” you whispered, though your voice had a no-nonsense tone to it. “You’re my big brother and I love you and even if you really tried, not even you or Tommy could scare me, not ever,” you insisted and Arthur’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, hugging you. 

“You’re a stubborn girl, our YN,” he said fondly. “You’re gonna give us all a run for our money when you’re older,” 

You smiled, glad you had made him feel better. “C’mon. You need to go to sleep, otherwise Aunt Polly will tell us off. She’s the only one who can scare me, Arthur, but only when I’m in trouble,” 

Arthur laughed and you shushed him, settling down to sleep (and totally hogging most of the blankets. perks of being the little sister). “Alright, alright, I’ll go to sleep before aunt pol shouts at a grown man that it’s past his bedtime,” 

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[abortionado]

can you elaborate on spencer with a swallowing disorder and the toll it takes on hotch not knowing why his baby won’t eat and being rlly scared 🥺

Yeah 🥺 :(

So. Achalasia is actually a very rare, very serious condition with dangerous complications, and it’s also fairly difficult to diagnose and treat, so it would hurt all of them :(

(Just for background, the way that it works is that food can’t move into the stomach because of nerve damage, and since there’s a backup of food and liquid in the esophagus, it can sometimes get into the lungs and cause pneumonia and other life-threatening lung problems)

When Spencer is like 14–18 months old, he starts coughing and spitting up almost every time he eats.

He’s been eating solids for a while, and he’s well beyond the age that it’s normal for Aaron to have to burp him, so it’s definitely a red flag for him to need thumping on the back after meals.

Aaron calls their pediatrician, who says that it’s probably just some kind of stomach bug, and he should wait for it to go away on its own.

But it doesn’t go away on its own—it gets worse. Spencer loses a ton of weight, starts waking up coughing and crying every night, spits up almost daily, and doesn’t want to eat anything, ever.

The other kids are grouchy, because they can’t sleep with Spencer screaming and crying and choking every night, and Derek, JJ, and Emily, who are old enough to understand that something is seriously wrong, are really worried about their baby brother on top of being sleep-deprived, so it’s just no fun around there for anybody.

Aaron is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, because on top of his murder-intensive job, his baby is suffering and he has no idea what’s wrong or how to fix it. :(( When Spencer is coughing, he takes him outside (in case it’s just croup?) and holds him real close and tries to coach him through breathing :((

He hates leaving Spencer with sitters when he has to travel for work, and he starts having Rossi stay with them overnight, because he just. Can’t handle the thought of his baby choking and having a random teenage girl in charge of him :(

Spencer gets a couple of really bad respiratory infections and has to stay over at the hospital a few times :( Hotch misses a lot of his other kids’ events and has Rossi (or Derek) taking care of them more often than not, because he spends so much time at the doctor’s office and urgent care and emergency room with Spence, just trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him :((

So it’s rough enough, and then one day, he’s doing his little baby thing and he just. Blacks out. Keels over while playing blocks and hits his head on the ground

He’s not out for long, but Aaron FREAKS out and takes him straight to the ER, where they give him a rough diagnosis and tell him that his baby is basically starving, bc he’s had so much trouble getting food into his stomach that it’s been like he hasn’t been eating anything :((

Aaron feels horribly guilty, and he just holds Spencer and cries into his soft hair and apologizes over and over. Spencer is like 🥺??? Bc he doesn’t know what’s going on >:( he’s just baby!!

They have to tube feed him to get his BMI up until they can figure out how to treat him and start seeing results :(( he gets a little feeding tube in his sweet baby nose with Dinosaur tape 🥺❤️ (it’s kinda uncomfy, but his dinos are cool, and he’s excited to show them to Derek 😌)

Penelope and JJ tell him he looks scary, and that makes him sad :(( he’s not scary 🥺

The next like. Year of their life is filled with specialist appointments and imaging and surgery to treat any infections he gets and it’s so hard on all of them :(

Financially it’s really rough, and Hotch doesn’t ever ask for help, but grandpa Rossi quietly covers hospital bills and just spoils the hell out of the kids, because they deserve it 🥺💕

Hotch is scared all the time, because complications can be life-threatening, and he’s terrified his baby’s lungs are gonna fill :( when he’s on cases, all he can think about his whether his littlest baby is breathing okay, and whether grandpa was able to work the feeding tube :( (Even though Grandpa is perfectly competent. Aaron just worries too much)

All in all, it’s very very hard on their family, and thinking the baby is suffering and might even die is horrible, but it also brings them all together and makes them all feel very protective for years to come 🥺

[a-world-in-grey]

Sola/Nox Fusion III

@secret-engima *evil grin* Okay, but IMAGINE-

-Sola and Nox are Protective of each other. Sola because Nox is her Little Brother, who saved Littlest Brother and is always in pain and he’s HERS. And Nox because Nox is just as possessive as Sola when it comes to family and this is the older sister he never had but wishes he did the first time around.

-The only quicker way to get Nox and Sola to Rage is to hurt Noctis. Or Uncle Ardyn (despite the fact that Ardyn can usually eviscerate anyone who goes after him, Uncle Ardyn has enough scars and it’s the principle of the matter).

-Due to Sola’s enlistment in the Kingsglaive, she’s the first of the two to get massively injured in front of the other.

-Sola’s not typically a front-line fighter in this verse. No, Sola dove head first into mastering her healing magic, because she never wants her Uncle or Little Brothers to suffer injuries like that again without her being able to help.

-Nox... is torn. On one hand, he knows how Sola’s healing magic works, and for all that he’s not known Sola very long he knows his older sister pretty well to know that she’s as self-sacrificing as Uncle Ardyn. Which means Sola’s going to take on every single injury she can. And Nox hates it as much as he hates it when Ardyn does it. On the OTHER HAND, Sola’s not on the front-lines. No, she’s in a support role, with Abyssus bringing her injured Glaives to heal, surrounded by the other medics which means that when she does overdo it (and Nox knows it’s a when not if) the other medics will be right there.

-But then Sola’s enlistment in the Kingsglaive is leaked, specifically her role as a medic.

-(Ardyn and Nox. Clean. House.)

-Sola refuses to resign. She’s a medic. She’s always been a military target. She’s not going to let an increased risk stop her from doing her job.

-After Sola and Nox’s Coming of Age, Sola deploys to the most critical part of the war front and stays out there through multiple rotations, merely transferring where ever they need her most.

-Nox actually goes out to the base Sola is at after about a year, intending to Wreck Some Shit to give the glaives a breather because in the video calls with Noctis and everyone else at home, it’s clear that Sola is exhausted. But she’s also too stubborn to come home when she feels she’s needed.

-Perhaps Niflheim learns that there are two Royals at the base. Perhaps they learn that Sola will be rotating back and want to get one last shot in before Sola’s behind the Wall once more. Nox doesn’t know. He doesn’t particularly care. Uncle Ardyn will take care of the Nif leak.

-Nox is a bit busy fending off the army that showed up out of nowhere to drop far too many bombs, MTs, and daemons on them. Using the cloud cover and late night hour to sneak in close before anyone could raise the alarm.

-The fatalities are high, casualties even higher and Sola is the major reason why there aren’t more deaths as Nox lets loose and obliterates the Niflheim army. Still, it’s not enough. There are too many injured, too many that are trapped or too far from help, even as Nox spies Nyx staggering out of a warp with an unconscious glaive across her shoulders.

-Then Nox hears his sister scream, not in pain but grief-rage-denial and her magic explodes behind him. 

-Axis swears as the air lights up golden, bright and warm as summer sun, and a massive avatar of glowing armor rises, looking like someone had modeled a King of Yore off the Kingsglaive mage uniform. It raises the glaive in its hands and slams the end into the ground, and tendrils of golden shards, tens, hundreds form and snake through the air, unerringly finding even the most hidden glaive.

-Then Sola’s magic gutters and goes out, and Nox Loses It.

-The resulting magical supernova makes it very clear to Niflheim that they should be very glad Nox isn’t the Royal serving on the front lines. Because there is nothing left by the time Nox is done.

-The Kingsglaive are also very glad that Nox passes out in a dead faint (bad eating habits coming back to bite him in the rear) because it means he doesn’t see the glowing stab wound through Sola’s heart, doesn’t see the medics slam a phoenix down into Sola’s chest and still have to do CPR until her heart starts beating again.

-Nox wakes up first, still exhausted, and Axis takes advantage of the exhaustion to tell Nox that Sola is okay, but also about the death-blow.

-Nox yells at Sola when she finally wakes up. So does everyone else to be fair (the exception of Ardyn and Regis who just hug Sola tight) but Nox’s shouting is the worst behind Noctis’. Because Sola was there when Nox neared the Crystal, she knew that reaching too deep had it’s cost. She does not get to sacrifice her life.

-(Sola doesn’t tell Nox or Ardyn, but she thinks she knows part of why Ardyn has Issues with the Founder King. Because wow Somnus is an asshole and Sola is fair certain Somnus is the reason for the death blow on Nox’s chest, the death blow she now has a matching copy of.)

-Then Nox nearly dies. Protecting Uncle Ardyn from an assassin. At Sola and Libertus’ Wedding. 

-Sola’s magic flares, a blazing sun were she was once but a bonfire even if she’s not Nox or Ardyn’s supernovas, searing hot across everyone’s senses and bowling over everyone between herself and her Little Brother as she rushes to his side, healing magic already pooling in her hands and heedless of the blood staining her wedding not-dress.

-The only reason she doesn’t go for the assassin - assassins, there are three others in the crowd - herself is because Uncle Ardyn erupts, armiger flaring and the sheer weight of his Rage sending everyone but a handful of people to their knees. And because Uncle Ardyn lets her by Nox’s side, lets her heal him when he doesn’t even let Papa or Titus near.

-(Also because she’s already raised the strongest shields she can around her Family and Claimed. Papa, Noctis and his Retinue, Iris, Axis’ wife and children. Cindy and Uncles Cid and Weskham. Even the Shields and Nyx and Libertus and Crowe and the others of her Glaives and Uncle Cor, until she can override her instincts and let the glaives and Shields and Cor out.)

-She’ll let Uncle Ardyn handle the assassins. She’s content to wait. But after Little Brother is safe?

-Sola goes hunting. And she displays just how well Shield spells can crush.

[talesofealdancynedom]

Pretty new plumage for the cute young couple: Artemis(crimson), and Matcha(white), in the royal raven kingdom nest.

Tale 11: Artemis Craweleoth & The Griminthrope (chapter 5 - Beloved Princess 5/5) part 3. Stories of Fey

none

A year after Artemis and Matcha decided to tour magic forests, Morgen as hosting all his and Emilia’s children, and new grandchildren, on the gate. All except Artemis. Their other children had all flown the coop, and become accomplished mages; but not above having family reunions. They all took comfort in the knowing that Artemis was happy, in the shadow veil or some magic forest somewhere. It had been months since Matcha and Artemis were last spotted, but they did visit everyone individually on ocassion. But not this harvest gathering. Cadence, the eldest, insisted that no one go look for their littlest sister so late; unlike Calliope, the second eldest, who sided with Patrick. They missed their youngest sister, wanted to invite her. But Cadence was right; it was well in the evening, and everyone was too tired to hunt Artemis down. But as Cadence woke at dawn, to feed the stag fey with her children, she noticed something; silence.

At first, Cadence ignored the quiet; but then Calliope and her wife noticed, and then Patrick and his girlfriend noticed. Where was the morning calls of cockatrice at dawn? The two of albino peacock phoenixes that bickered all their childhoods? The song of the orphan birds, or metallic flap of Stymphalians. Not even gryphons perched along the edge of the tower. The Sibling’s curiously looked around, and then got their father and mother to check as well. All the raven children were missing. Morgan, being Mage of Tiberius gate, could feel all the fey and people on it, but accounting for an entire kingdom of fey was beyond his scope. Tiberius gate was too dense with fey to sort. Morgan sent his familiar Icarus to help search from above. Even with teamwork, the two couldn’t sense any raven children. Each fey they asked, noticed their plumaged mythical cousins were missing, yet had no idea why this was. Many said the raven fey had vanished during the night. Tiberius Gate was a sanctuary, inhabited only by the king mage, his family, and fey. If there were no children of the raven king here, there weren’t anywhere. This had happened before; when Morgan was King mage and in school. All the wolf children vanished, and almost claimed his enfeyed best friend. The propect of one tenth of all magic disappearing, terrified him.

Morgen feared the worst: The Raven King may have been killed. Such a good friend since they met: going for karaoke and flipping TV channels. The Raven King was always good for a laugh, and giving an unhelpful yet whimsical perspective. Morgan’s greif of the loss of fey and magic quickly became overshadowed by the fear for his raven brother’s life. He was experiencing a special kind of tragedy all over again. As much as Emilia and his children comforted Morgan, they would never understand that the death of a beast king, to the King Mage, is like the loss of a sibling. Flustered, Morgan ran to the Raven Door with his children, only to find a twelve-year-old girl, weeping on beneath a tree, when they entered the shadow veil. She had no colour, except her icy eyes; she was human mage. She looked like a princess, dressed as old Anglian nobility. Her dress was black crushed velvet, with feather ruff; Fairy robes like mage Queen Meriam Craweleoth of the Grand West. Like she was from a time when Tiberius made the gate. The sobbing girl was dirty, worn, and grey. Morgan knelt to her.

“Are you ok? Raven Queen Odette? You wear your mother’s fairy robes.” Morgan said calmly.

“My husband and children are dead. Their song silent, and my true love, all lost. I do not care that I am no longer immortal, cannot fly, or have returned to being a human girl; I weep for my children and husband, I weep, for I no longer want to sing or live without them,” Odette responded in tears. “All I have is my name; I have been Raven Queen here for so long, it is all I know. The veil takes your memories, as the surrounding magic does not know time. But enough of me; I need to aid Artemis and the new Raven King. They may need help adjusting to their new roles, but I can’t move myself to do anything but cry for my late husband.” She sobbed. Everyone was speechless. As if they had heard a eulogy. Morgan’s children could not comfort Odette; for no one but him, had been able to read Meriam’s journals about her daughter’s mortal life. Morgan knew the story well, and it reminded him of his own daughter, Artemis.

Long ago, the now widowed Raven Queen was a princess kept in her father’s palace. There were talks of wedding her off in the name of peace. She was the only heir of the Great West of Anglia. Odette’s future was to be decided by lordly men. Even if her mother, the mage queen, protested. Odette stood gracefully in her finery at the edge of the courtyard pools, watching the birds. Princess Odette Craweleoth was her full name. She always wore soft blues, and had pale hair and icy eyes; she had magic move through her, at a very young age. Thus, changing her colours to that of a swan. Odette starred into the skies yearning to fly, and be as elegant as one of the birds she watched. Yearning to be a charmer of the Raven Gate in the Capitol instead, of its princess. Her mother, Meriam Craweleoth, sadly watched her only child resent her circumstances; like she once did.

Meriam, knowing the ways of magic, had figured out that her princess was a mage. In these olden times, mages were the only people who could use magic. Therefore, mages were used as weapons, if not exterminated; and Odette was oblivious to this fact. She only knew about a royal existence inside a palace. Odette was a girl who only wanted to love and live, and was innocently unaware of the trial of life. This resulted in Odette, not yet a fully grown lady, feeling no shame in indulging in the impossible. Meriam covered any tracks of her daughter and nephew finding joy in magical ways, least the people who call themselves wizard’s protest. More importantly, she wanted them to have their youthful pure wonder, a little longer.

Meriam dared to defy her values, and lie to her king husband; and withhold her knowledge of the fine large raven adorned in treasure. The Raven King visited the balconies uncomfortably often. Odette had grown to love and had befriended him. It was sweet, and heartwarming. Odette and the Raven King talked when he visited each night; bringing her shiny junk, and telling her jokes, as she complimented him and confessed her woes of having no choice in her future. The Raven King then revealed his more human face, to confess that he loved her so much, that if she requited his love, they could fly off together. Odette could be his beautiful swan. thrilled by his offer, she agreed and kissed him, becoming enfeyed with his magic as a beast queen. She loved him back. At last, she determined her fate, and could fly.

Queen Meriam did not see her daughter, the princess, fly off with the Raven King. but knew and said nothing; her little girl would be safe, and live long and happy in the shadow veil. But common men would not understand such things. By the time the guards, and Odette’s father, arrived to her chambers, she had gone without a trace. Meriam now guarded the Raven Gate she had made, for her daughter’s sake. Anything to keep her only child safe, and meet her raven grandchildren. And Meriam died in her age guarding it from her people. People who had been given tools to wield magic, and wished to eliminate magery form the world.

All Odette could recall of this, is once being a princess, the birds she watched, and wanting to be herself. It felt like it was only a dream. Odette had forgotten the name of her kingdom, and the faces of her human family. The people who loved her centuries ago. Odette was raven queen no more, but still felt a mother to the bird fey. She, in her emptiness, wished to help Artemis and her remaining royal children, the richen raven and griminthropes, which were now presumably human mages somewhere. Odette wanted to help her daughter in law be the queen she once was. To protect what remained of what she loved most. It was all she had to fill a hole, where love once was.

Morgan was struck with sadness as well. He was close to the Raven King, who was quite the beloved personality among all the beast kings and mages. No doubt the other beast Kings and Queens would grieve him too. The King’s of fey were like the only siblings Morgan and Emilia ever had. They were like aunts and uncles to their four children. Everyone felt cold and empty; as nostalgia reared from pleasant to bitter. There was no more innocent prankster, funny hat wearer, bad dancing crackly singer. The Raven King sung badly purposefully, because his real voice was so beautiful it caused any living thing that heard it to die. The first Raven King was terrifying and glories, in all his majesty. As pure magic should be. Even if The Raven King was made only of magic itself, he felt like a physical person. He was as old as the world itself, and had met his eventual end. Infinity always has eventually. Even though he lived so long, it felt so short. The Raven King was now just a story in books of magic. In his stead, Matcha would now have to be all of these things.

Suddenly it dawned on Morgan, Emilia and their children. Where is Artemis and Matcha? Are they alive and the new king and queen of the raven kingdom as Odette said? Patrick approached Odette firmly, and requested the widowed queen to take them deep in the forest; to the secret nest. The giant raven nest that was forbidden to anyone but the Raven King, Queen and any newborn heirs. The Raven King had decorated an orchard of trees in dazzling gems, armor, jewelry and ornaments in the most spectacular way. Centuries of careful tweaking and crafting; It was art. It was what inspired Matcha to bead and decorate. The nest sat upon the largest tree in the circular orchard. It was made of felt, down, straw and twigs. As Odette lead the concerned family into the clearing, they saw a large four-winged crimson bird with a skulled head in the nest. Perched above her, another large snow-white raven with Icey eyes, that was adorned handsomely with jewelry about his neck and talons. It was like Odette and the Raven King were still there. The family cautiously approached behind Odette; her face still wet from tears. She pointed to the massive birds, which turned to look at them.

“Mother?” the new Raven King said in a familiar voice. He swooped down into his human form, revealing himself. It was Matcha, and he looked exactly like his father had; taller and with more dazzling feathers, and a crown. Except his eyes, which were his mothers. He waved to the visiting mages with a wide smile. Even as King, Matcha was himself.

“My condolences of your father. All the folk of magic will miss your little siblings, and the gifts he gave to us,” said Patrick “but where is my sister Artemis?” He asked. The red bird ruffled and turned into her human form; It was Artemis peering over the edge of the nest down at them. Everyone’s faces lit up to see her in good health. She had gone white and scarlet, just as Odette had when she became queen. Her collar and trims sparkled, and she wore a clear robe, like a veil embroidered with glittering feathers. The regal plume of feathers around her neck was as soft as clouds. Artemis was nearly unrecognizable. Her trademark autumn blacks of her eyes, hair, and clothes were now a regal white and blood red. Artemis jumped down, and landed before her family, surprising them a little. Even as Raven Queen, she was still herself.

“Told you I would never leave him Patrick.” Artemis said, smirking. Then her expression faded to sorrow. “The Raven King was murdered upon trying to rescue a flock of his captured daughters. The wizards must have been so scared to see him, that they lashed out on instinct like trolls. the beast kings can be verry shocking when you first meet one; as they are so big and all. He must have let his guard down because mages have returned, and have been keeping fey safe. I for one, did not know a beast king could die. I thought they may retire by choice, or turn human or something…” Artemis said. She was hugging Patrick, and melting into the fur of his coat. “I will miss him. He named me, and has been an accepting uncle all my life. Now I am Raven Queen, and I do not know how to be a step mother to an entire kingdom of fey. My husband will have to recreate his father’s work to restore balance. It’s a lot, and it’s not fair. I fear that, along the way, I will also forget you.” Artemis cried. Odette gently clasped Artemis’s hand, and looked away.

“I want to help, and stay, but I also need to find my royal children. They will have survived, and are now mages running amok; they must be confused to be human. Similar to Wolf Queen Flowen’s royal children, if I recall.  I am no longer enfyed, and will age now; my time is precious. I will do my best to help you be a good queen and mother to the raven kingdom. Our kingdom. I think we are all happy to see you both are well.” Odette said coldly. The family stood in the clearing of trees, decorated like a festive ballroom, as they stayed silent in memory of a lost friend, father, leader, and husband. Morgan ran up to Artemis, pulling her away from Patrick to embrace her.

“I and your family, can visit. As King Mage I come often; If the new king sees me worthy of being a brother, and gives me back the kingdom stone.” Morgan whispered. Matcha pulled a palm sized rock with the raven kingdoms rune on it. He smiled and put it in Morgan’s pocket, like it was another Tuesday.

“You look beautiful. This must be how Queen Meriam felt when Odette, her daughter, became a beast Queen. I am happy to hear my child will outlive me, prosperously for centuries; caring for fey like any proud mage. Though I know the veil can fog the mind, I hope you try to remember us.” He continued. Artemis’s family took turns giving her and Matcha comforting embraces, before parting. They took Odette with them to find the last of her children, wishing the best for the new royals. They saw their family off with a gentle smile in return; in spite of the events that had occurred. On the surface, it all seemed so scary, but underneath it was kindness. In time, and with tender love and care, the raven kingdom will once again have a happy ending. In a way, this new beginning already was one.

TABLE OF CONTENTS --->

<---PREVIOUS

[anklesalltheway]

Elizabeth ⭐️ ⭐️ Mama Swann ⭐️ ⭐️ (2 for firstherofirstlove, 2 for familyxdutyxhonor)

Meme - send me ⭐️ and I’ll share a headcanon ramble about our muses! (accepting!)

Loooong post under the cut! XD

@firstherofirstlove @familyxdutyxhonor

-- -- -- Elizabeth & Papa Swann

Sometimes Elizabeth wishes she could have been more of the daughter her father & mother wanted her to be. Would she eventually outgrow her rebellion? Could she have not given them /that/ much terrible grief? So she tries to do what she can for them because she does adore her family very much.

And still — the fact her father said "Perhaps on the rare occasion pursuing the right course demands an act of piracy, piracy itself can be the right course?" has always made Elizabeth all the more curious to that perspective about her father. After all, she has the world’s respect for his intellect.

-- -- -- Elizabeth & Jane

Elizabeth is VERY protective of her little sister!! (As if mama swann isn’t overly protective enough of the bby cygnet <3 BUT If Lizzie is around, there will be blood should anyone harm or insult Jane.) Lizzie has a funny sense of over-protectiveness with Jane, where she wants to keep her sis at home where it's self and then in the next breath cannot resist dragging her sister on an adventure around Port Royal.

In her eyes, if Lizzie is Spice, then Jane is Sugar! For their differences, I believe Margaret raised them to be close. Elizabeth tries to be a good role model, but knowing some part of her rebellious nature will inevitably always get in the way, she tries to warn her little sister to equally not make the same mistakes she made, and will always try to make herself someone her sis can turn to.

-- -- -- Margaret & Jane

After dealing with the handful that is her daughter Elizabeth (who takes more after Margaret ironically), Janie (who Margaret feels takes more after Weatherby) is a breath of fresh air.

Margaret wishes she could spend more time with Janie (if she wasn’t so caught up with Lizzie all the time) and wants to make sure she has more quality “Mother & Daughter” time with her littlest cygnet (& does NOT want Janie to feel like ��the spare’ to ‘the heir’!).

Jane is still young, and they haven’t had to deal with prospective suitors yet, but once the Norribeth ordeal with Lizzie is done (& the Swanns have secured a son & an heir in dearest James Norrington), I believe Margaret could be *gasp!* a /little/ bit more lenient with Jane’s debutante years, *gasp!* especially if Jane wishes to enrich her mind. *gaaasp!!* Margaret knows her Janie is a smart cookie and has taken after her father’s interest in law & scholarly pursuits, and Margaret would want to encourage that!

(That said, she wouldn’t mind wedding planning Jane’s wedding... she may or may not have already started scribbling notes aside... yeah... oops)

-- -- -- Margaret & Weatherby

(This was supposed to be a headcanon post but instead I’m turning it into a TED talk ramble about how much Margaret loves her husband and how much I love them...)

I just want to rant about the cuteness of how Margaret just fell for Therby.

Like it’s ironic how Elizabeth is blind to a wonderful man like James... well, Lizzie might not have been the only one, because of that little slice of drama where in her youth Margaret wasn’t too keen on /marrying/ Swann at first. (Poor dear made so many false assumptions of Weatherby in her blind state before being proved SO WRONG, it’s pitiful XD)

She was blinded by the heartbreak of losing her crush & the suddenness of the arranged marriage after her first season as a debutante resulting in suitors but no real prospective marriages (plus Papa Gibbs didn’t find any of those gents in particular worthy for his daughter)... that Margaret didn’t even at first realize how romantically wonderful Therby is!!

She saw him as a friend, not a romance novel hero! Before realizing (& possibly after a good talk with her brother, who did ship them & more than approved of Swann)... the best marriage /was/ marrying your best friend.

And so after all THAT long-winded recap,

When Margaret does let herself fall in love with Weatherby BOI is it a lovely sight! That’s when their famous “inseparability” comes in, Margaret & Therby taking long walks together in the park (chaperoned of course)... & reading poetry together (like this in sense & sensibility)... & going horseback riding together... & the gestures she goes a little out of her way just to show how much she loves him... & then the little surprises she discovers about him along the way, like how he’s an artist & he sketches her... how he can throw a serious punch!

How much Margaret loves her husband?? And is so in love with his mind?? And how he carries himself?? And how caring he is??? Yup, Margaret just loves her Weatherby!

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 11

Warnings: None

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​

Kyle is just getting ready to climb behind the wheel of his rental when he sees her approaching; a tall, curvy blond with vibrant colored highlights in her hair, holding onto Declan’s hand as he toddles along beside her, and he shuts the driver’s side door and journeys to the end of the driveway, crouching down with his arms outstretched.

“Hey buddy!” he calls. “Come see me!”

Declan hesitates, head cocked the side, a frown on his face. As if he remembers the voice yet the face isn’t quite so familiar. It’s been six months after all, and he’s too young to sit still during a webcam chat; hyper and energetic and too busy exploring the world around him.  But then he gives a smile that spreads from ear to ear and crinkles the corners of his eyes. And he manages to wriggle out of the woman’s grasp and rushes towards his uncle, who effortlessly scoops him up off the ground; repeatedly throwing him in the air and catching him, until the toddler is giggling hysterically.

“I missed you, bud,” Kyle presses a kiss to the side of Declan’s head, who responds by throwing his arm around his uncle’s neck and snuggling his face into his shoulder.  “I almost didn’t recognize you,” he teases. “Practically old enough now to have a girlfriend and start shaving.”

“It was time to bring back the kid. I wanted to keep him, not going to lie,” the neighbor says, as she hands over a small backpack and a pair of sandals. “You must be Esme’s husband. It’s about time we met. You’re definitely not what I was expecting.”

“What?” he chuckles. “No. God no. I couldn’t stand being married to her. I had enough years of her driving me crazy. I’m her brother. Kyle,” he holds Declan under the bum with his forearm and offers his hand.  

“The firefighter.”

“I see she’s been picking about me. Not sure how I feel about that.”

“All good stuff, I promise. I’m Salena,” she warmly shakes the hand being held out to her.  

“New neighbor, right?”

She grins. “So she’s been talking about me too.”

“Just a little. It was nice of you.  Taking Declan for a bit. She needed some downtime. Trying to handle a new baby and this little man...” he tickles Declan’s stomach. “...can be a lot to deal with. I’m glad that she has someone to help her out. That actually gives a crap about her. Tyler can only do so much, you know?”

“Tyler’s the husband.”

“You’re neighbors yet you don’t know his name?”

“I’ve never even seen him. Which is why I thought that’s who you were. Although you don’t exactly give off the ‘retired guy’ vibe.  You’re probably at least thirty years away from that.”

“I wish,” he laughs. “But thanks. That’s my ego boost for today. You’re going to be in for a surprise, I think. When you do see him. He doesn’t give up the ‘retired guy’ vibe either. Daddy was lucky wasn’t he, Decks?” He holds his nephew over his head and blow raspberries on his tummy until he’s giggling once more. “He was lucky in more ways than one.”

“Lucky to even be here by the sounds of it,” Salena comments.

“You have no idea. It was a scary time. For him. And for my sister. You just live up the road or...?”

“Right next door. Well not right next door because there’s the equivalent of two football fields between us. But next door.”

“I would have scooped that place up in a heartbeat when my sister told me it was for sale. I’d love to be closer to the munchkins. Especially this guy,” he gives Declan a noisy kiss on the cheek. “He’s kind of my favorite. But don’t tell the other ones. Uncle Kyle is kind of a big deal around here and I want it to stay that way.”

Salena laughs. “Your secret is safe with me. But I kind of see why this little guy is your fave. He's quite the character!”

“Always has been. Since the day he was born. Huge personality, this kid.  Always charming someone. Especially the ladies. Must take after your Uncle Kyle, huh?” he bounces Declan on his hip. “All you have to do is give them a certain look and they’re eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“I think that hair and those huge blue eyes don’t hurt either.”

“They all have them. Those eyes. Trust me when I say they are all dad. Except for the littlest. She is all mom.”

“Do you still live in Colorado or...”

Kyle nods. “Telluride. At my sister’s old place. Just until I decide if I want to stick around or not. Then they’ll just up for sale if I leave. It’s a shame if they do. It’s a hell of a place. Not as nice as this, but it’s got tons of property and amazing view of the mountains. It was a great place to raise kids. Until it wasn’t.”

“Things went bad?”

“You could say that. Changes needed to be made. They’re happier now. Much happier. Sucks that they’re so far away; kills me not being able to see the kidlets. But it was what was best for them. For all of them. Sometimes you just have to cut your losses and walk away, know what I mean?”

Salena nods.

“I should get this guy into his mom. I have some things I have to take care of before we all meet back up tonight for dinner. It’ll be fun surprising the other kids. It’s only been six months, but it’s felt like six years.”

“I won’t keep you any longer. It was nice meeting you, Kyle. Maybe we’ll see each other again. You sticking around for long?”

“Week or two. Who knows, maybe I’ll fall in love with the place and never leave. Anything could happen, right?”

“Absolutely it could,” she agrees, and others her hand this time. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Pleasure was all mine. Maybe we’ll get to chat again. I’m sure I’ll be around a lot. And any friend of my sister’s is a friend of mine. You ready to go, buddy?”  He pushes his fingers through Declan’s hair, clearing long, thick tresses off his forehead.  “Want to go see mommy?”

“See mommy,” Declan chirps, and then blows Salena a kiss, giving her one of his charming little grins as his uncle carries him up the driveway.

****

The music is deafening; bass intense and pounding, windows shaking. The detached garage had originally been built by the previous owners and used as a place to store a boat and jet skis; the door at the back leading out onto a cement launch that descended into the ocean. It was a luxury they didn’t need, and Tyler had turned the garage into a fully functional gym, stocked with every possibly piece of cardio and weightlifting equipment that could possibly fit within the four walls. It’s his refuge; the one place he can go to when anxious or agitated, where he can safely –and productively- get out all his frustrations and aggression. There were days he’d only been in there for thirty minutes, other where he’d disappear for hours at a time. She never questioned it or denied him that time alone. He was still safe at home, working through things at his own pace and intensity. Far better than the alternative: having him thousands of miles away, putting himself in danger, using his hands to inflict pain on people. Even killing them.

The end results are better as well. Something that she can selfishly enjoy. The pure aesthetics of him; the broad shoulders and back, muscle seemingly packed open muscle, every inch, every ripple, every sinewy tendon and every bulging vein.  Not one inch that isn’t pure and utter perfection. That her fingers and hands haven’t spent countless hours exploring and enjoying. No man has ever had that powerful of an effect on her, especially that long into a relationship.  Where her insides burn and ache just from the simple act of watching him. Not just his body in motion, but the intensity and focus that he puts into it.  

She stands in the doorway and watches him now; the power and the rage behind every kick and punch that he unleashes on the heavy bag. Shirtless and clad in only a pair of athletic shorts, a sheen of sweat covering every inch of his upper body and soaking his hair.  Those blue eyes dark and troubled. Angry.

When the music becomes too much for her ears to bear, she moves to the Bluetooth speaker in the corner and turns down the volume. He’s stopped for a breather; skin flushed, chest heaving, bent over at the waist with his hands resting on his thighs.  The sunlight streaming through the skylight causing the sweat to glisten, highlighting every scar and tattoos that mars his flesh.

“Do I know the person you were fantasizing about beating the shit off?” Esme asks, as she takes a seat on one of the nearby weight benches, holding out one of the two bottles of water she’s brought along with her.

“You know a couple of them,” Tyler admits, using his forearm to clear sweat from his forehead as he approaches, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips; droplets of sweat falling from his hair and down onto her chest and thighs.  “You were sleeping when I got hope. I didn’t want to wake you up. Come out here instead.”

“Well judging by how hard core you were going and all that rage coming out of out, I’d say that was a very good call on your part.”

“Declan and the baby still sleeping?”

She nods. “How long have you been out here kicking the hell of out things?”

“I dunno,” he twists off the cap on the water and downs nearly half the bottle. “Hour maybe. What time is it?”

“Just a little after two.”

“Hour and a bit, then. Times flies when you’re pretending to kill someone, I suppose.”

“Pretending is better than actually doing it,” she reasons, and he nods, then uses his teeth to create a tear in the tape that’s wrapped around both hands. It’s frayed and stained by both grim and blood; the thin layer of protection not enough to keep the already swollen and misshapen knuckles from being torn up.

“Lunch with Ovi went that bad?” she inquires, and motions for him to give her one of his hands; taking one in both of hers, nails gently picking at the tape to begin the task of peeling it off. It’s a simple gesture; that little bit of help. But it’s filled with love.

“It went so bad that lunch never even happened.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. You were pretty agitated before you even left the house. What happened? Did you just completely snap or...?”

“He started in on his bullshit. About the job. It didn’t matter what I said. How bad I made it sound. He doesn’t give a fuck about the reality of it. I don’t what’s happened to him. You’d think about everything he went through in Dhaka...killing Gaspar...seeing what went down on the bridge...that’d be enough to convince him not to do it.”

“Something has warped his mind. Or someone.”  She finishes with the first hand; balling up the soiled and tattered tape and setting it beside her on the bench. Then turns her attention to the other.

“I know I promised I’d do whatever I had to to stop him, but nothing I say or do is going to change his mind. He doesn’t give a shit what I have to say. So short of chaining him up in the basement and keeping him prisoner, I think we’re looking at option B.”

Esme sighs. “I was hoping to avoid option B.”

“We were BOTH hoping to avoid option B. But if we try and look at it optimistically...”

“Isn’t that my thing?” she grins.  “Aren’t I usually the optimistic one while you border on the worst-case scenario side of things?”

“What did you say the other night? About teaching an old dog new tricks? Guess you’re starting to rub off on me after six years.”

“So what is the optimistic way of looking at it? Is there even such a thing when it comes to the job?”

“Maybe he won’t get himself into trouble,” Tyler says. “Maybe he’ll be smart enough to just take easy shit. Simple in and out extractions.”

“We both know there’s nothing simple about any extraction. Whether it’s supposed to be in and out or not. Can you honestly think of one extraction that went down without a hitch? You’d done how many by the time you quit? At least a hundred. Probably more. When was the last one that you remember things didn't go south?”

Tyler frowns. “You’re killing my optimistic vibe here.”

She gives an apologetic smile.

“There’s a chance that whatever he decides to take will be nice and easy. At least until he gets his feet under him. I figure it can go one of two ways. He’ll either hate it, or he’ll push himself until he can handle more intense jobs.”

“Okay, honey, I don’t think you quite grasp looking at the brighter side of things. Because you started out really well, but you sort of shit the bed at the end there. How is that last part in any way optimistic? We want him stopping, not continuing.”

“So maybe I don’t have the optimism thing perfected just yet. But if the worst-case scenario is that he likes doing it and busts his ass to get better at it, that’s not so bad, yeah?”

“Would that not be the somewhat okay scenario? Seeing as the worst-case scenario would be something like...I don’t know.... death?”

“Not every mercenary dies,” Tyler informs her.

“But the percentage is higher of those that do and those who live long, happy lives. You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Kind of bold of you to assume that I’m both happy and I’m going to live a long life,” he teases.

“You won’t live long making smart ass comment like that,” she retorts.

Grinning, he leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek, then to the sensitive spot below her ear. “Thank you,” he says, when she finishes unwrapping his hand and adds the tape to the original ball.  

“So...” her hands fall on his shoulders as he sits on the ground in front of her, leaning back against her legs. “....is that as bad as things got today, or...”

“No. It got worse,” he grimaces as he stretches his legs out in front of him; knee cracking and popping with even that simple of a movement. “It got a lot worse.”

“I have a feeling I know why. But I’m going to let you tell me.” Her fingers dig into his shoulders, feeling the tension that has settled deep into the muscles. “Because I think I know what you’re going to say.”

“I’ll give you three guesses what happened.”

“Nope. We are not playing that game. You’re just going to spit it out. Because once it’s out in the open, we can deal with it. Together. Rationally.”

“Any form of the word rational and you don’t exactly go hand in hand. Fuck...” he growls, when she clamps down on the right trap. “...okay...okay...I’ll tell you. I’ll talk. Are you sure it wasn’t torture you specialized in instead of intel?”

“I have ways of making you suffer, Tyler. That aren’t physical. You think almost four months is bad? Try six. Or eight. Or twelve.”

He scowls. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. So, talk. Or you’ll spent the next six months to a year doing a lot a jerking off or taking cold showers.”

“You have to promise me that you won’t completely lose your shit on me. Because I’m actually the innocent one in all of this fucked up mess.”

“Okay,” Esme agrees. “I promise.”

“Nik showed up. Just out of the blue. Ovi set me up. He knew I wouldn’t totally snap in public. He’s the one who told her to meet us there. That sneaky little fuck. I don’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed.”

“Well I know which one I am, and it’s not impressed.”

“You don’t seem that surprised,” he remarks.  “That she did show up.”

“Nik is like herpes,” Esme muses. “Can’t get rid of her no matter how hard you try.”

Tyler laughs. “That’s one way of putting it, I guess.”

“And I already knew she was in town. Because I had my own surprise visitor today. My brother showed up. Completely unannounced. Just wandered in like it was no big deal that he just didn’t come all the way from Colorado. It was too much wishful thinking on my part to hope he’d come alone, apparently.”

Tyler sips his water. “What did he want?

“Just a social visit. Nothing majorly important was brought up. What did Nik want?”

“I didn’t agree to tell you THAT part.”

“Tyler, don’t press your luck. I love you, but just don’t.”

“She’s been recruiting him. Ovi. Apparently when he started thinking about all this job shit, he contacted her. Which makes sense in a way, because she’d have all the answers to his questions.  She’s a fountain of information. I only know the hands-on stuff. She knows that and what goes on behind the scenes. So he reached out to her and I guess she made it sound even more appealing instead of discouraging.”

“Color me surprised,” Esme scoffs. “That she’d suck him right in. Fuck that bitch.”

“You told me you’d stay calm,” he reminds her.

“I am calm. Have I strangled you yet? No. So I’m calm.”

“Just a reminder that I’m innocent in all of this. In case you needed to hear that again.”

“I’m not mad at you,” she assures him. “Not in the slightest. So,” she runs her hands along his shoulders and presses a kiss to his ear. “.... go on.”

“She’s offered him a position,” Tyler continues, as he picks at the label on the now empty water bottle. “With her team. But there’s a catch.”

Esme smirks. “There always is with Nik. Nothing is ever cut and dry with her. What’s the catch?”

“She wants him trained. Extensively. Weapons, hand to hand combat, that sort of shit. And she won’t give him a job unless he can prove to her that he can handle things.”

“That actually seems fairly reasonable for Nik. What does it have to do with you?”

“Before I tell you that part, I just want to say that I love you and I wasn’t going to make any decision without you. If you don’t want me doing it, I don’t do it. Simple as that. Okay?”

“Fair enough.”

“Nik wants me to be the one that trains him.”

She issues a heavy sigh.  

“But...” Tyler turns around to face her, forearms resting on her thighs. “...I don’t have to go anywhere to do it. It’s not like I have to actually go on a job and have him shadow me or some shit like that. Nik is a lot of things, but she’s not THAT reckless. Everything can be done here. All hands on. We’ve got a gym, a beach we can use to practice some shit on, there’s gun ranges in the town over, we have the woods out back.”

“You have a hunting rifle and a handgun,” she reminds him. “That’s hardly enough to train him with.”

“It would only take one phone call and I’d have everything I need. I’m not worried about that.”

“Do you want to do it? Train him?”

“Do you want me to do it?” he counters. “Because if we don’t agree on this, I don’t do it. That’s it. If you think it’s a bad idea and you’d rather I not do it, then just say it. I won’t argue. So...” he runs his palms along her thighs. “...what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking this is fucked up,” Esme admits. “Because I thought this was all behind us. That every part of the job was in the past. That we finally got away from it. Like...fuck, Tyler. When is this going to end? Will it ever end? Will it ever leave you alone? I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you. I do not want you getting dragged back into this. Into the actual job. Because she's going to try. She's going to try and manipulate you all over again.”

“It won’t work. I’m done. I’m not going back. Unless there’s no other choice.  We agreed on that. That I’d only go if Ovi got himself into trouble. That is the one and only time I’d go back. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“What’s the alternative? If you don’t train him?”

“He gets someone that does a half assed job and Nik thinks it’s acceptable and sends him off somewhere. To die.”

“Well you can’t let that happened. That’s the last thing we want. And if he’s so hell bent on doing this and there’s no way you change his mind...”

“He’s not going to listen to me, babe. He’s going to do this whether I agree with it or not.”

“So then logically it should be you. That trains him,” she concludes. “He trusts you. I trust you. I know that you’d do it right. You were the best, Tyler. Everyone knew it. You weren’t just water cooler gossip. Or some urban legend. You were exactly who everyone said you were.  Which means you’re Ovi’s only hope.”

“I don’t know about his only hope, but I’m his best hope. Tell me what you want,” he takes her hands in his, kissing the tops of both before tightly squeezing. His eyes never leaving hers. “If you want me to do it, I need to hear you say it. It’s important to me that you say it.”

“And it’s a sure thing that you won’t have to go anywhere? That you can do all of this right here?”

“There’s no reason for me to go anywhere. Not unless I have to. Not unless he completely fucks up and I have to rescue his sorry ass. If you don’t want me involved at all...”

“It’s not that. I want you to help him. I just worry about what else Nik will try to get you into.”

“Fuck Nik. This is about Ovi. And us. She has nothing to do with this. If you say yes, I commit. If you say no, we just go on with our lives like we never had this conversation. There’s no in between. Just yes or no.”

She sighs, then leans forward and rests her forehead against his. Her eyes closed, her voice barely above a whisper. “You need to do this,” she admits, even though it hurts like hell to do so.  “I want you to do it.”

“It’s going to be okay,” he places a kiss to her brow, lips lingering there for several seconds. “It goes no further than this. I do what I have to do to get him ready. Then just hope he doesn’t need anything else.”

“I swear to God, I will kill him with my bare fucking hands if this gets any worse. If he totally fucks up and you have to go in and get him, I will slaughter him the second he gets back.”

“That kind of defeats the purpose of getting him out of there alive if he’s just going to end up dead in the first place.”

“It’s you I worry about,” she stresses. “It’s you that I don’t want ending up dead. Because we’re supposed to grow old and grey and miserable together.”

“Baby, there is no one else I want to grow old and grey and miserable with. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. Trust me. I’m asking you to trust me. Can you do that?”

She nods, then releases his hands and wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. The smell of sweat and the slick dampness of his body oddly comforting.  

“I love you,” he says, as his hands softly rub up and down her back. “I love you and everything is going to be okay.”

“I love you too,” her voice is muffled against him. “Just do whatever it takes to help him survive. To keep him out of trouble. And keep yourself alive.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m too stubborn to die, remember? Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easy. It’s either spend the next fifty years with me or kill me yourself.”

“Never,” she declares, and pulls back to look at him. “I like having you around.”

“Yeah? Well I like hanging out here, so...”

She smiles, then leans in to kiss him. Long and soft and sweet. “You reek by the way,” she teases, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she shoves him onto his back. “You need to clean yourself up. We’ve got plans for tonight.”

“What kind of plans? It can’t be the sexy kind of plans because we’re still on the no-fly list, so....”

“The kind of plans that involve you having to wear actual pants. And underwear.”

“Both? What the fuck? We’re going all fancy and shit. Do I have to shave too?”

“Maybe tidy it up a bit. So you don’t look homeless.”

“I thought you liked it this length. Because it rubs places in all the right ways.”  he gives her a wink, and then chuckles when she grabs a towel, smacks him in the side of the head with it and then drops it over his face. “Hey, those were your exact words.”

“We are going out. In public. And I said trim the beard. Not shave it. Because you’d probably traumatize your children if you did that. That’s how they know you. With a beard.”

“It’d probably traumatize you too. If cutting the hair didn’t do it, shaving the beard will. So I’ll be nice. I’ll spare you any extra emotional suffering. And where are we going?” he sits up and uses the towel to vigorously rub at his hair. “Am I at least allowed to know that?”

“Out. With my brother. And Nik.”

Tyler groans.

“We need to make nice. Or so my brother says. I told him I’d be civil, at least.”

“I think I’m getting a sore throat. And a fever. I feel hot. Do I feel hot to you? Check my temperature.”

“You’ll be fine,” she says, as she heads for the door. “Remember. Shower. Underwear. Normal pants.”

“Not even shorts? Like cargo shorts?”

“Pants!” she insists, then tosses him the unopened bottle of water. “I’ll go as far as allowing jeans or cargo pants. But they have to be pants.”

“You’re bossy,” he complains, then flops onto his back and lies spread-eagled in the middle of the floor, towel over his face. “Wake me up a half an hour before we leave.”

“The school bus comes in sixty minutes. I’m going to get you up in fifty-nine.”

“You know,” he muses. Underwear? Normal pants? You’re damn lucky I love you as much as I do.”

“Yes,” she grins before stepping out the door.  “I am.”

[skellies-n-their-human]

more bio shit (i’ll edit this to look more presentable when i have access to a computer, tumblr mobile really sucks :< i apologize if it’s hard to read for the time being)

Sans owns the house that everyone lives in. He’s pretty laidback and lenient about lots of things, so it takes a lot to get him angry. But when he does, he gets pretty fuckin’ scary. In fact, everyone is or has been scared by Sans at one point (which is kinda funny, considering Sans’ biggest fetish is fear). Thankfully he’s only gotten super angry twice. No one likes to talk about it.

Sans is also a space geek — more than a few times has he been caught reading a thick astronomy book “hidden” inside of a little paperback full of jokes and wordplay. If you have a question about the universe, he’ll most likely have an answer at the ready. Suffers from hypersomnia, so he sleeps a lot.

Papyrus is a pure SOUL, and everyone can’t help but love him. He’s super sweet and loves to help everyone out! Unsurprisingly, he’s very good with kids. He’s often given the nick Creampuff and he’s come to not only accept it at this point, but to embrace it. YES he is a creampuff, soft and fluffy with yummy filling inside! What of it?! He’s so full of energy, and would absolutely beat you in a game of DDR.

He is nonbinary, going primarily by he/him pronouns, but any pronouns are perfectly okay with him! Papyrus is also gray-ace, preferring to keep away from any sexual stuff, but is not outright repulsed by it.

At first glance, Red would seem to be your stereotypical “macho man.” He’s big and burly, drinks and smokes, he’s loud and rude — basically a skeletal frat boy. But what most people don’t see from him is his softer side; he’s such a romantic, he will go out of his way to plan the perfect date night for he and his partner/s. He loves to spoil, and will do exactly that. He’ll give little inexpensive gifts every now and then, like your favorite candy he picked up while buying some cigarettes, or maybe a pair of shoes you’ve been looking at during your online window-shopping. He’s better at showing his love through actions than through words, and he tends to stutter when he shows any sort of strong emotion, like anger or nervousness. Despite this, he’s not one to sugarcoat his opinions. Has an affinity for cars and casually watch NASCAR (he’s not a huge fan or anything).

Boss... oof. Boss is Red’s younger brother. He and Red grew up in a very hostile environment. I won’t go into it much on this post, but Red took raised him from a babybones, but once Boss reached adolescence Red fell into a deep, heavy depression and the roles were reversed. He’s strict and a little mean at times, but he’s only doing what he was taught in order to protect himself and others. That being said, his displays of affection start out very rare, as showing affection was considered a sign of weakness. Eventually he’ll open up to hugs, kisses, cuddles, and even *gasp* PDA, but it will take some time before he gets to that point. He has a high LV, the highest of all the skeletons, and it affects him greatly. When Boss feels any sort of strong negative emotion, he’s at risk of his LV taking over his mind and body, putting not only himself but those around him in danger. There’s a special protocol in place to calm him down whenever this occurs.

On a brighter note, he loves to cook and is very good at it. He keeps a small booklet of everyones favorite recipes! His dream is to open a five-star restaurant.

Stretch loves sweets, adores companionship, and taking everything slow and steady. He’s never in a rush, the chill stoner he is. Most of the time you can find him lounging on a sofa or armchair playing cheap games on his phone. He’s the kind of guy who would spend hours browsing a Spencer’s, staying towards the back and giggling at the silly sex toys. Stretch is extremely interested in the concept of body piercing, and though he’d never get any piercings himself, he’d love to become a professional body piercer one day.

He lives off of touch, both giving and receiving; hugs whenever he’s greeting someone, a bit of hand holding while walking together, little head pats or shoulder touching when he’s standing next to you. His primary love language is touch, and it becomes apparent very quickly. He also had an oral fixation, and will usually be seen with a cigarette, a joint, or a lollipop between his teeth.

Blue, it almost seems, is going through a permanent sugar rush. In fact, he’s not really allowed to indulge in sweets because of how even *more* hyperactive they make him. That’s okay though, he’s more into salty and savory foods. He has a habit of working himself to exhaustion, sometimes even having to be nursed back to health by Stretch or Papyrus.

Blue’s a little -shit- /troublemaker/, using those big, bright eyes of his to play innocent, easily deceiving anyone and everyone (unless you’re used to his tactics, then he just gets frustrated). He’s a social butterfly and absolutely hates being alone for long periods of time. He doesn’t do well under pressure and as a result, isn’t good at lying or keeping secrets. He loves sports, but most of the time he’ll just go for a quick run with a buddy.

Slim is a gentle giant, easily towering over all of the other skeletons yet wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s selectively mute, speaking only once in a blue moon. In fact, if it wasn’t for his extreme height, one would almost forget he existed. He’s been through a lot back home, developing severe general anxiety disorder and perhaps showing signs of C-PTSD? No one but Razz can say for sure, and Razz isn’t going to tell anyone anytime soon. Slim’s jacket is his security blanket, and he rarely takes his hood off, even home. The only times his entire skull is seen is straight out of the shower, or in the morning after he stumbles out of bed. Even during heatwaves, he has to be coaxed into taking it off.

Despite being so withdrawn, Slim craves companionship and tries to join in on group activities to the best of his ability. Like Stretch, he’s very touch-hungry and will help himself to cuddles. He’s pretty primal and dog-like, and uses petplay as a coping tool. He kiiinda has a problem with drooling, apparently it’s happened ever since his fangs got -pulled- knocked out. Even his new gold replacements don’t seem to help any. He doesn’t let it bother him, he just wipes his mouth on his sleeve and moves on. Most skeleton monsters have the ability to purr, and his is the loudest.

Whereas Slim is the tallest, his brother is the shortest of the group. Razz often wears heels to compensate for this, so most of the time he appears just about the same height as Blue (or taller, depending on the pair of shoes he’s wearing), even if he’s three or four inches shorter. He doesn’t let his lack of height get in the way, as he still has the the courage to boss everyone around. He’s very hard to please and can even be pretty argumentative about the littlest things. Despite this, he tries not to push people past their limits and he looks out for those closest to him, even if he has questionable ways of showing his love.

Razz keeps his interests to himself most of the time, so not too much is known about him when compared to the others. What we /do/ know is that he’s interested in fashion, sometimes sketching out a few designs even if he’ll never have the ability to create them — at least, not yet. Maybe someday he’ll pick up tailoring and fashion design as a full-time hobby. The closest he’s ever come to that was designing and creating the collar Slim constantly wears around his neck.

[jackieshaunanat]

Mathletes Headcanons

because,,,,they deserve love too,,,duh,,,

Kevin:

Misc:

Pansexual and proud, doesn’t care who knows but doesn’t think it’s some big thing he has to tell everyone

6′1″ he’s VERY tall and lanky

Anxiety & ADHD

Trans Icon? He also has no fucks to give about who knows, he’s super loud and proud about it, tries a new name like at least once a year

In the end he picks like 13 names just be difficult and a smartass when people ask him to sign his full name onto things

School:

Straight As, 4.0, all honors/ap/de classes

also works on the school news team, he’s actually one of the favorite anchors because he goes off script often for bad jokes and one-liners, he’ll also drop in random news things that no one cares about 

he’s in charge of editing the news as well, so of course every dumb thing he does and says makes it into the final version

Wants to be a literal rocket scientist, would kill to work at NASA

Friends:

Doesn’t understand a single goddamn thing about robotics or the club but goes to all the meetings anyways because he’ll be damned if he doesn’t shoe enthusiastic support for his best buds

He has the worst luck in dnd but that never stops him from trying to seduce all the enemies

He goes through characters like nobody’s business as a result

Family:

Has 2 little sisters, they’re twins and the love to scare him and pretend to be various creepy/evil twin tropes from movies

Pets:

No pets but he really loves rats

He’s a lil upset his parents won’t let him get any but eventually they give in and let him get a tarantula so who’s the real winner here?

She’s a mexican red rump and her name is Rose (both because uh duh? red but also doctor who)

Marwan:

Misc:

5′5″ and a lil chubby

Bisexual & probably on the ace spectrum somewhere but he doesn’t really care much and it rarely gets brought up so he tends to just brush over it

Dad Jokes Extraordinaire

Actually pretty fashionable and particular about his clothes

Still wears a ton of dad baseball hats all the time though

Big ghost hunting & conspiracy fan

Jokes a lot about flat earth and fake moon landing and it annoys Kevin to no end

School:

President of the Robotics Club

Isn’t really sure what he wants to do for a career but he definitely wants to design and build things? He’s looking into architecture and the likes

Friends:

Dad Friend(TM) 

Packs his own lunch for school everyday and packs a second one for Tyler or Kevin just in case they don’t have money or forget their own at school

If they don’t need it at lunch, they all split it as a snack after school

He also carries spare glasses for Tyler and eventually a pair for Cady as well

As well as has his own remind texts for when Kevin’s supposed to take his medication so he can make sure he doesn’t forget

Super protective of Kevin & Tyler and very wary of strangers or new people approaching them in the halls and stuff

he’s the DM friend

he’s also notorious for having great luck, Kevin & Tyler swear he gets nat 20s on almost every roll with a d20

Family:

2 dads, Dad & Babai

His mom died in childbirth and Babai remarried by the time Marwan was 3

Pets:

3 chickens and a rooster; Chickira, Hennifer Lopez, Hilary Fluff, and Foghorn Leghorn

The neighbors HATE Foghorn so they try and keep him at least indoors in the mornings so it’s not as obnoxious to the other people in the neighborhood

Tyler:

Misc:

Littlest Mathlete, he’s 5′3″

Big green thumb, tons of plants all over his house and yard that he near exclusively takes care of himself

Gay and very in the closet until after Cady, still reluctant about coming out to the public but is very open towards his friends and a few friends of friends (i.e. Janis & Damian and so on)

World’s Worst Eyesight: farsighted in one, near in the other, like a -6 or so

Selective Mutism but if he gets comfortable or excited enough he’ll talk to no end

Really into conspiracy theories and cryptids

LIKE REALLY INTO THEM

his favorite cryptid is bigfoot because he firmly believes if any of them are real, it’s him

School:

Vice President of the Robotics Club

Wants to teach, maybe something like english, he’s not sure

Also a theatre kid, mostly just does backstage stuff, but he’s played decently important characters on stage a few times

Friends:

Has been tutoring Shane Oman in math since 6th grade and is therefore actually really close with him

He’s the first non-family person that Shane let into his “Lizard Sancturary”

He was also one of two friends who even got invited to Shane’s bar mitzvah, the other was Regina and they made a deal never to speak a word of it to anyone else at school that they actually hung out during it

when Janis pulls the jokes and calls him and Shane boyfriends, he doesn’t so much as bat an eye, he thinks it’s easier to just let her joke or believe whatever rather than try and argue

However secretly he’s kind of always felt like maaaaaayyyybe he and Shane were like,,,,kind of dating, but he was always too nervous to say anything

Family:

Parents are seperated but not divorced

They all live in one house together, people call it awkward a lot but he jokes that it isn’t because it was worse when they were still trying to stay together instead of split

He’s the youngest sibling of four, two older brothers and a sister

Pets:

a single dog, she’s a pug, like a real pug without all the health defects and stuff

her name is Juliet

[ircnborn-blog]

— ✧ BENEDETTA GARGARI ??  no, that’s just MORGAN ANTONIA STARK !! she’s the TWENTY TWO year old child of ANTHONY STARK & PEPPER POTTS and is, in addition to being an UNDERGRAD at paragon academy, a INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY TA and CAPTAIN OF THE GYMNASTICS & FENCING TEAMS. i hear she’s AUDACIOUS & COMPASSIONATE, but tends to be PRIDEFUL & CODEPENDENT. her file says that her powers are an IRON SUIT, GENIUS LEVEL INTELLECT & LATENT EXTREMIS VIRUS. redirect to her stats page HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

    girl walks, girl drowns, girl ( breaks ), girl burns ;                        but girl does not die.

SECTION ONE OF THREE: BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings for infant health issues, talk of death

september 27th, twenty two years ago. it was a sticky autumn night when morgan antonia stark entered the world with a pitiful cry - last born and second daughter of tony stark and pepper potts. she was born to riches and prestige, but these were empty, really, in comparison to FAMILY. she had a mother and a father that loved her, dearly. she had an older brother that someday, she would surely find ways to idolize. she had people who cared for her and her safety that did so, not out of familial obligation, but because they cared for the stark-potts family ; the only pity was that they could all, as a collective, do little to save her from the worst that plagued her.

your baby is supposed to be perfect. they’re supposed to be all SOFT SKIN & powder smell. they aren’t supposed to be destined, it seems, to a life of sickness. the ventricular septal defect ( shaped like a tic tac ) was discovered only after her birth, all the scans throughout pepper’s pregnancy having shown nought. and morgan’s first few months of life were dotted with trips to the emergency room, and visits to the family doctor, something always seeming to be WRONG. infant colic was ten times worse, creating days of sleepless nights as they wondered would she be okay. she caught a chill when she was three weeks old, and was forced to spend a week in icu because of the resulting chest infection. the doctors who treated her were confident that over time, the hole in her heart stood a good chance at healing on it’s own, as many do. however, it DIDN’T get any better. as she got older, the effects of this became more and more pronounced. it seemed like she never didn’t have a chest infection. she wasn’t putting on weight. at times, her breathing was a struggle, and she was sleepy - sleepier than any baby they had ever known before, almost perpetually fatigued. the original plan had been to wait and see and hope that on it’s own, it would HEAL. at six months old, it became abundantly clear that such a thing wasn’t on the cards for morgan - and once apparent, she was booked in for open heart surgery.

your baby is supposed to be PERFECT, remember? she isn’t supposed to take ill every few days, and ultimately require surgery. it was a harrowing experience, and those first few months of morgan’s life were understandably marred - but if there had ever been any DOUBT before, it became clearer than day when she came out the other side of her surgery that the so far littlest stark was a FIGHTER, through and through. they had been prepared for a month long wait to bring her home, and that was ‘best case scenario’. they were able to do so in a fortnight. she didn’t cry, or fuss. it was like she knew the first little while had been tough, and had become hellbent on making everyone’s lives that little bit easier. lord knew they needed it. 

over time, morgan grew to be a REMARKABLY normal child. there were some differences, of course, between her and the kids she was surrounded by growing up - she required regular checkups, she needed to dress extra warmly in winter, and she always got a bit more wiped out at the end of an exciting day than anyone else - but anyone that knew the story behind the scar down the middle of her chest gaped in shock, watching her. she was never shy, never frightened. she swung from the lower boughs of trees, she sprinted at full speed and fell and got up, she was always the first to jump from atop the nearest high structure and declare that she was flying, like daddy - it seemed impossible to imagine that as a baby, she’d had a hole in her heart. that sort of health issue was associated only with those with a lot less life to them than the high-spirited girl that morgan had become, and never once had she allowed it to define her. she was a SPITFIRE, pure and simple, destined to never sit out of an experience, always the first one to give something a try. 

and she was spoiled. the real shock would have been if she hadn’t been. to say that the stark’s were comfortable would have been a gross understatement - they had the means with which to do it, so of course she was spoiled ; though morgan was taught in equal measure not to take such things for granted. money was material. fame was FICKLE. family, and friends ; they were what mattered most, and at that - they were what lasted forever. morgan was spoiled, but she had a good head on her shoulders. she knew right from wrong. she knew what was of VALUE to her, and it wasn’t cold hard cash. she was always something of a bleeding heart, and she loved stronger than the sun burned. she attracted “friends” like moths to a lamp as one of the popular kids, but while not all of them felt so genuinely towards her, morgan always LOVED them. if she befriended someone, if she cared about them, then it was impossible to shake her ; and this was a lonely existence, in a way, more obvious than ever before when she began to attend high school and realized, overnight, that a lot of her friends were not, in reality, her friends. they cared for what she could give to them, or what she could do. they cared about the status that came from being within a stark’s inner circle. but they didn’t really care about her. she had a loving family at home. she had family friends that were not so shallow as to love her only for what she possessed. but away at school, she found she had very few people she could trust, and only ONE who could be counted as her very best.

morgan stark and richard parker had been friends from childhood, toddlers that had grown alongside one another and by grace, or blessing, stayed within the same school years as they aged. the love they had burned BRIGHT and true, their friendship of the fierce and genuine kind. neither needed anything more than the other, and for someone like morgan - someone who was becoming increasingly aware of just how many people in her life came with strings attached - this was something rare and unusual and so beyond welcome. he was her closest confidant. her most valued adviser. her best friend, in every sense of the word.

and he would, in time, become her greatest source of guilt.

she was smart, and she was DRIVEN, and she was the daughter of heroes that the world knew were heroes - of course morgan grew up with a little bit of ‘save the world’ within her, because when it came down to it... she believed, wholeheartedly, that she had the motivations and the ABILITIES to do so. she had always been a mother hen, more protective of her friends than she had any right to be. always keeping an eye on them and the other children, always stepping in whether they did or did not need it. she fought for other people’s honor. she stuck up for the bullied, she offered to tutor ( or flat out do the homework of ) anyone that was left behind. she wanted to HELP people, even before she had hit double digits, and the itch to do so only grew when she did. it was something that she and her friend shared. a drive to be heroic.

imagine, then, if you will : a little girl with brains and bravery. a lonely, loving little girl, getting older now in age but never quite losing that naive belief that even she could do something incredible. someone that wanted to SAVE the world and the people in it, someone who had spend her whole life watching tv broadcasts of her father and his friends taking down villains across the globe. her older brother was now actively training to be someone that the world could look to and in a way, jealousy blossomed within morgan’s chest. by grace of her birth she had never known a time when she couldn’t defend herself, but still ; she felt overlooked. she felt, in a sense, SNUBBED, and time ticked by in which morgan found she COULDN’T, wouldn’t, sit around and do nothing anymore. the world was a wacky, flawed place to live. it needed more heroes than what it had, and richie - her best friend - would never have allowed her take on the monsters outside of her door without being at her side.

she stole an old mark stark suit from the deepest depths of storage, and using skills she had developed all on her own, reprogrammed it so that friday wouldn’t alert her father to what she was doing. she never told him, or her mother. they would have disapproved. they would have FORBIDDEN it. she was only fifteen, a child, and while she was smart - tony’s daughter through and through - it was as close to the blind leading the blind as anything could get. her parents would have put a stop to it before the adrenaline and the feeling that they were making a difference became the heady mixture that both of them got addicted to, and neither could ignore. if they had known, morgan would have never snuck out of their home that first day to meet with her friend in a back alley and begin prowling the streets, looking for trouble. it never would have continued.

but it DID. and for a while ; for a long while, at that, it seemed to go WELL for them. morgan had training, and wisdom that she could impart upon them - but both of them armed with stark branded weapons meant that, even if they got knocked down, they could do some damage on the way. she had the suit, so she typically ran point - but together, they were cleaning up the streets of new york, one petty criminal at a time. 

it was never anything too huge. never a fight they couldn’t win.

except for when it was.

two little kids decided not to call the big guns in when they stumbled across a shady deal taking place in a warehouse, in williamsburg, brooklyn. two little kids rushed into stop the bad guys, thinking that they could DO it. two little kids bit off more than they could chew when they discovered that what seemed to be run of the mill was anything but.

it should have been her. she had dragged him along - all the way along, if you wanted to go back to when they had started. she had wanted to be a hero, and she had tugged him with her so they could be a duo. that they could become two more famous names, somewhere down the line.

but it wasn’t her. and all the wishing, all her praying, all the begging afterwards wouldn’t change that, ever. the fight was chaotic. there were more inside than what they could handle, and neither had accounted for actual powers after all the petty street criminals they had tested themselves with. she saw him get knocked down - she dove to try and shield him, and the last thing that she remembered was instructing her a.i. to send out a distress signal. something collided with her, crippling her jets, spinning her off course ; the suit was old, and it couldn���t take the hit. she should have, could have, might have died.

it came pretty CLOSE. she awoke in the hospital what could have been hours or days later, parents at her side ; battered, broken, but still, miraculously, alive. the same could not be said about richard.

she couldn’t face his funeral. she was discharged the day before, but she never deluded herself into thinking that she belonged there. he wouldn’t have been in that situation, if it hadn’t been for morgan. he never would have tried their luck. never would have DIED. they were two children playing make believe, playing at an adults game ; and both of them had paid the price, but they would never get a do over.

it should have gone a lifelong number on her desire to be a hero. for a long while, it did. morgan secluded herself in the aftermath, dropping out of the prestigious school they had attended together out of thoughts that everyone there was looking to her with hatred, and finished her schooling at home. she honed her computer skills ; she worked in the garage, building a new suit that she couldn’t imagine ever wearing from scratch. 

it was a slow process in coming out her shell, once again, and trying to live her life. it had to be, when she didn’t believe that she deserved it. but attending paragon was an active decision. choosing to attend college and make something of herself came when she realized that she had a gift not everyone got - and her parents deserved to see her do more than wallow, for the rest of her life. she wants to TRY AGAIN, in all aspects. she wants to be better. do more. do good. she isn’t sure that she can, but she won’t go down without a fight 

SECTION TWO OF THREE: HEADCANONS trigger warnings for talk of death, ptsd, depression, alcoholism

morgan SHOULD have died. if anything could have been written in the stars of that fateful night, it would have been that her time was up. when the emergency services arrived, they had to cut her out of her suit - and her injuries should have killed her. what no one knew, until then, was that morgan was affected with at least partial extremis virus, due to pepper’s exposure. she healed, faster than she should have ; and it was questionable, but the lack of any other side effects had them hoping against hope that this would be the sum of it. morgan hasn’t had the heart to tell them that that night served as an awakening, of sorts, and that she’s been getting worse ever since.

alloy, noun. a metal made by combining two or more metallic elements, especially to give greater strength or resistance to corrosion. there was always a REASON for why morgan chose this as her alias.

she’s only ever had one pet ; duma, her now six year old newfoundland. he’s the light of morgan’s life, and was mostly a marked effort on her parents behalf to try and encourage her to leave the house - and the garage - more frequently. 

like her father, morgan has struggled with addiction since the death of her friend ; in LARGE because the guilt in combination to the grief was simply too much for her. she doesn’t recognize her own drinking as a problem, as she’s now been using alcohol to self medicate her obvious ptsd and depression for years, and considers it something of a crutch in social situations. however, it is present. and it is something that she should tackle, eventually.

morgan may captain the gymnastics and fencing teams, but her talents extend far beyond ; she was a childhood ballet dancer and piano player, and outside of these, was taught self defense from the moment she could put one foot in front of the other without falling down again.

she wasn’t just building herself a new suit for the past few years. morgan got very into HACKTIVISM, using skills she had developed while she was young to... well. do some good. she mightn’t have gone about it in the right ways, all the time, but her core drives have always been the same. 

SECTION THREE OF THREE: WANTED CONNECTIONS

family of her deceased best friend. does your char not have enough angst in their life? do you want them to have a sibling, child, nibling, pibling, cousin... something who was morgan’s closest friend, and was a part of her superhero escapades? then boy oh boy, do i have the wanted connect for you. please allow me stress that i have no ( immediate ) plans to request this person be brought back to life, as their death has had a HUGE affect on who and what morgan is, but... still. do they blame her? do they think that their relation made their own bed, so to speak? can they forgive her? will they refuse to? give me it all. taken by the parkers !

friends / best friends / close friends / etc. mark two. give morgan... people she grew up with, honestly. give her people who went partying with her way too much in the aftermath of all that happened, who became shoulders to cry on and people to lean on. ppl she wasn’t close to but is now, because... reasons. i’m sure we can come up with them.

childhood sweetheart. in the purest sense of the word. they were as thick as thieves, two peas in a pod - never dated, but everyone always ooed and awed and said that someday soon, they were gonna. cutesy little kid relationship !

and flings ! ex, current, whatever you can think of. morgan is pansexual panromantic, and she’s not always made the best of decisions. let her have had carnal relations with people she should hate. let her have had them with people she knows well. let them be one night stands. gimme all.

anything n anything tbh.

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON MAYDAY’S MAIN VOCAL, LEAD DANCE MOON YOONYOUNG...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Youmi CURRENT AGE: 23 DEBUT AGE: 22 TRAINEE SINCE AGE:15 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: N/A

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): honey, youdoll (a combination of a her stage name and doll, on account of her delicate features) INSPIRATION: she fell in love with music after first listening to the albums of korean artists from the late 70s to mid 80s. SPECIAL TALENTS:

creating acrostic poems on the spot

holding out notes for extended periods of time

imitating cartoon characters

NOTABLE FACTS:

as a child, she suffered from a mild case of arrhythmia (slow beating of the heart).

she is the middle child in her family with an older sister and a younger brother.

she once mentioned in a vlive that her favorite artist is claude monet.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

after waiting so long to enter the spotlight, yoonyoung plans on putting all her efforts into making mayday a group to remember—even if it means playing into a character for the sake of maintaining a well-liked image. already, it seems like the company is pushing her into modeling, a ploy to attract more visually-inclined fans. building a large social media following is also in the works, her public instagram essentially turning into a fashion blog. outside of mayday (and the plans the company has for her), yoonyoung wants to improve her skills not just as performer but as a creator as well and put that composition degree to good use. she hopes that in the coming months, management will allow her to let more of her creativity show through in whatever way that may be.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

ultimately, yoonyoung wants to be able to put out her own music. that’s what it’s always been about, after all; sharing her voice, her unique sound with the world. her goal is to delve into self-production  work slowly but surely. the first step, of course, is to have more creative input in mayday’s discography. after that, she’d like to do lyric work for other artists, and eventually release original songs. she wants to establish herself as a distinct voice in the korean entertainment industry, setting herself apart by giving the people something they won’t be able to find anywhere else.

IDOL IMAGE

be kind. be gentle. be loving.

“do that,” her manager tells her the night before their debut showcase, “and you’ll be the nation’s sweetheart in no time.”

she wants to tell him that’s what he said when she first became a trainee so long ago, that it’s been seven years already without a single claim to fame. and that’s not what this is about, no. it’s never been about the recognition, but the point remains.

she’s a nobody.

they decide to play into the innocence of youth. doll-like. someone to be cared for, bringing out the need to protect in others. in the weeks that follow their debut, she clings to her members for dear life, hiding her face in their necks, pink blush high on her cheeks. a soft-spoken gem, youmi is the girl who can do no wrong. she becomes mayday’s resident baby, doted on and coddled like something precious.

she’s shy, or so it seems, preferring to let the others take the mic while she stands back and nods her head in support.

her nature is also elegant. a subtle sort of sophistication made soft by fanciful berets and dresses with hanging white lace, speech formal and polite.

but the truth?

the truth is she can hardly hold her tongue when she’s in public, has to physically bite down on her bottom lip until it threatens to burst to keep her words at bay. the truth is she’d go all day in wearing pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt if she could, can’t stand how pale her face is made to look beneath the bright stage lights (longs for the touch of sun on that comes with memories of home), is constantly seconds away from bursting at the seams with all the thoughts and feelings and conflicting emotions she has bottled up inside her rapidly beating heart.

the truth is she’s swears and drinks and tells jokes that often go over people’s heads. she’s rough around the edges, sarcastic when the situation calls for it, and can’t stand backing down from a challenge. she thinks the world, as it is, could learn a thing or two from her, from women in general.

but people don’t want a country bumpkin who’s not afraid to get down and dirty. they want a pretty and silent thing, something to show off.

so she will be kind, gentle, loving for now if it means a future that is set in stone and a chance to grab at something more.

IDOL HISTORY

moon 文.

dalseong-gun, daegu. a place of sun and wind and everything nice.

she grows up surrounded by family, always. whether it’s watching her grandmother work magic in the kitchen or chasing her cousins through strawberry fields that stretch as far as the eye can see, she is never without warmth at her side. early on, she learns that love comes in many forms: her mother’s big bear hugs, yoonoh’s quiet reassurances, yoona’s careful guidance. all these things and more, such beautiful professions of adoration and love.

this is the life she lives. and there is so much good within it.

the dream doesn’t come until a little later. it begins as a sapling. she’s seven the first time she listens to one of her father’s old records. yoonyoung watches with wide eyes as he slides the disk out of its vinyl album cover with careful hands, setting it down on the record player. the room fills with crooning voices on top of lilting melodies, painting the most vivid scenes behind her closed eyes. a musical seed is planted that day, one of shimmering infatuation. it grows a with every waking moment.

musicophile. that’s the word her father uses to describe her, lover of sound. her great aunt prefers the term gifted. and when yoonyoung sings at dinners, hosts her very own concert right out on the front porch steps, her aunt says she’s got that god-given gift, a natural-born talent. the kind that takes you places. takes you far, far away from small towns like theirs.

in the coming years, yoonyoung dives headfirst into the world of music. her town is small enough that everyone quickly learns of the littlest moon daughter’s quest to become the greatest musician of her generation. the community pitches in to provide her with the skills needed to carry out such a huge feat. she’s taught how to place her fingers on guitar strings every sunday from mr. jung down the road and wakes up long before the sun to meet ms. jinhee, the kindergarten teacher, for weekly vocal lessons.

it isn’t long before the chance to prove herself presents itself in the form a nationwide audition from one of korea’s most renowned idol companies, midas media. her father drives the whole family out to the city in support of their future star. she walks into her audition with all the blind optimism a fourteen-year-old can muster, radiating confidence like no one’s business.

but all the confidence in the world can’t make up for the talent she so obviously lacks. when weeks go by without a response, yoonyoung is smart enough to know what that means.

six months later, there’s another opportunity to be had: 99 entertainment’s annual talent search. it’s a sign, she thinks, when the news reaches her ear during a trip to the farmer’s market. this time, only yoona goes with her.

the result is the same as last time.

still, she doesn’t cry. good things come to those who wait, or so her uncle always told her. if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

for the first time, her mother begins to show fear. fear for her daughter who dares to dream in a world as cruel and unfair as this one. in the late afternoons, the woman stands in her bedroom doorway watching as yoonyoung struggles through chord progressions, practices switching keys and shaping her mouth to allow for stronger high notes, better sound, and her heart aches in the way only a mother’s can.

“just let me try one more time,” she insists. “please.”

her mother never could tell her no.

yoon 倫.

shortly after receiving her letter in the mail. saying goodbye is the hardest part, and it claws at her heart so fiercely, she’s not sure the wounds will ever fully heal. family and friends gather at their house for her official send-off, bearing gifts and unbidden love and wishes of good fortune.

fifteen years old, and seoul is a city of endless wonder.

yoonyoung moves into msg entertainment’s trainee dorms with little more than the essentials—toothbrush, her guitar, yoonoh’s favorite stuffed bunny. it’s an adjustment, for sure, but it helps that she’s used to sharing space with others. if she stretches her imagination, it’s not too different from sleepovers with her cousins, all twelve of them huddled together on the living room floor. she tries to make friends with the other girls, get to know them and their stories. some entertain choose to her, but most prefer to keep to themselves. it’s hard not to stick out with her sun-kissed skin and heavily accented words, but she embraces her daegu roots.

a year passes in which she learns how to move her body in ways that don’t cause secondhand embarrassment. she’s not a dancer by any means, but she has to at least dance if she’s ever going to have a shot at debuting.

then a year turns into two with no clear vision for yoonyoung. they allow her to go to school for music composition in the meantime. she’s not stupid, knows it’s a means of distracting her from management obvious lack of direction, but she divides her time between classes and training as best she can anyway.

soon.

the word flits around in her head like a restless bird, wings forming hurricanes in her soul. there’s never a date attached to the end of it, simply the promise of an unforeseeable light at the end of a never-ending tunnel. every push for more information is met with ambiguity. she’s told to wait a little longer.

soon.

wasn’t it not too long ago that she was telling herself the same thing?

between cramming for exams, she works on bettering herself as a musician. picks up the piano  and spends evenings studying black and white keys, trying to make sense of the notes in front of her. builds a portfolio of music, handwritten eighth and quarter and sixteenth notes scribbled on blank pages in between plucking guitar strings. writing lyrics, lyrics. so many lyrics. pouring her heart into every character, every syllable, aching for home. the isolation isn’t intentional. it just happens. it doesn’t matter. she’s stretching herself thin, but that doesn’t matter either because at least she’s being productive.

even if she’s been stuck in the same place for the past six years. even if her hope has waned over time, certain idealisms traded for crushing realism.

soon.

then one day, it comes. she can see it approaching, the light at the end of the tunnel. yoonyoung told that she’s been placed into a group slated to debut sometime next summer. it’s really, truly happening. two other girls have already been added to the lineup as well. yoonyoung has to pinch herself in the arm to make sure she’s not dreaming.

that night, tears stream down her face in rivulets, soaking her pillow. she laughs and laughs until she’s pink in the face, rolls around on her mattress and squeals into the sheets.

and to think, she’d almost forgotten what happiness feels like.

young 永.

it’s the birth of an era.

mayday debuts as msg’s attempt at a brand new, fresh-faced, girl group to complement their sister group’s trendy vibes. she’s thrown into the role of the regal doll, acting younger than she is all the while maintaining an air similar to that of a princess in the hopes stealing the hearts of many. they’re performing on music shows, making variety appearances, having photoshoots with established brands.

for a rookie group, they’re doing fairly well. it’s not the image or sound she’d hoped for, but it’s something. and that’s more than she thought she was ever going to get.

a week after their first comeback, a letter comes in from her mother. written on her favorite blue stationary in purple ink, her mother’s pen strokes burst pride and joy. at the bottom, the signatures of all the people she holds closest to her heart. yoonyoung rereads it three times before hugging it to her chest.

here she is.

a star in the making.

[somethingabouttheway]

Reflections (Part I):

The world continues turning, while I’ve been standing still. The world seems to have moved on, but I’m still hurting.

Yesterday, I spent my day at the theaters with my siblings. I sat there crying in the dark at a little kid’s movie that should have made me laugh. I cry too easily these days. Even the littlest things bring out the water works. I never cry in front of anyone else. That is The Rule. As long as they don’t see me, it’s okay. I can’t be helped. I can’t be saved. There is no one in this world that can comfort me. But I’ll survive. It’s okay. Don’t you worry. These are just particular points of facts in my life. This isn’t poetry.

I woke up early on Thanksgiving to make food for my family. The day before that, I went on an adventure to visit the past.

Sometimes, I question if I’ve dreamt this all up. I’m waiting for someone to cruelly wake me up and tell me none of this is real, like they usually do. The only proof I have for this being real is I could never be creative enough to conjure you up. I may have tweaked the details now, but you, your very existence, I’m not clever enough. They think you’re the worst thing that’s happened to me. Don’t you doubt for a second, you’re the very best thing that’s happened to me.

I haven’t seen him in ages. It’s really been years. Was it 5 or 6 years now? I’ve lost count. All I understand is I’ve known him for 12 years. That’s half of my life. This week made me realize I’ve spent half of my life holding the same boy in my heart. The same boy who is neither here nor there. The boy I can no longer reach. That boy in my heart is you. You, not him, in case you were confused. You never got it quite right. But I don’t blame you. I never told you the truth. Not all of it.

You both give the best hugs in the world. I hate being touched, but being held in both of your arms, I never minded it one bit. I used to look forward to seeing you every weekend at church to be close to you, to be wanted, to be safe. Your cousin, my sister, and me, we were hugging at the back of the church once. You asked if you could join in. 52 weeks in a year. At least two hugs per weekend. That one year, it was four hugs. 104 hugs per year. That one year it was 208. At least. Then, it felt like being loved. Now, it feels like coming home.

I remember I used to spend my younger years analyzing how you guys held me. Two different people, two different hugging styles. He used to hug me twice. Twice in greeting. Twice in parting. I remembered because no one else did that. He let go. And then he pulled me back. It’s so very like him. In real life, his personality is like that too. That’s why people get confused. When he lets go, after all that warmth, they feel like they’re left in the cold. See, between you and him, he was always the easier one to approach, but the harder one to know. He’s friendly. He always greets me first. But he never lets people in too close. He pulls away. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. At the end of the day, he does, but he doesn’t know how to give and receive love. It isn’t betrayal. It isn’t selfishness. The things he feels won’t be easily quenched. I used to think, because I tried to mirror the things in your eyes, that he was a big brother. He is your big brother, after all, but he’s also a middle child. He confessed something to me this week. I get it now. He’s a lonely child. I’m more like him than he or you ever realized.

His hugging style has changed now. He hugs hard. I feel like he’s grounding himself or hanging on for dear life. Only one hug now, but lasting a few seconds longer. Out of habit, I saw him almost reach out again. But he didn’t. I wonder if it’s a result of growing up and the natural changes we go through or if it was a direct result of losing you.

You, on the other hand, you hugged me the way my dad used to hug me, when I was little. No one else did that either. The only boy who dared play Choo Choo train with me, the way my sister and I played when we were kids. How did you know? There were times I felt that in a past life, or some other life, or even in this life, you and I came from the same star. The only boy who ran his fingers through my hair, after I cut it short. I never asked which you liked better. Were you reminiscing my long hair then? Or was it because you liked it short? I never knew. I guess I’ll never know now either.

The last time I remember hugging you, was it really the last time I ever held you again? At least in reality? In my dreams and in my make believe world, I’m always holding on to you. When I play pretend, I’m afraid to let you go. In reality, that last time, we were at the back of the church again. The church they’ve demolished now, the church that is gone, just like you. I only have these memories to hold me up. At the back of the church, even then, it felt like a goodbye. It was our senior year, and we had finally called our truce to almost a whole year of not talking to each other and tormenting each other. We fought over such silly things then, which could have all been avoided, if only we were courageous enough to be a little more honest. I confessed “I used to like you” that day.

We’d been dancing around the forbidden fruit for a long time. We often touched the borders of it, but we’d run off, like naughty schoolchildren— curious, but afraid of facing the consequences. When you wanted to talk about it, I wasn’t ready. When I wanted to talk, you didn’t. You held it against me for a long time that I approached your brother first. That was fair. But you didn’t know the complete truth. I regret if you never knew. That last time, when I confessed, you responded with “I know.” It sounds like a Star Wars movie now, doesn’t it? I didn’t realize it then. You didn’t bring your brother into it that time. You just said, “Come here.” And you enveloped me in your arms and we stood there for a long time. You finally said, “We should go,” and I remember holding on for at least 2 more seconds. I should’ve held on forever. I wonder if your hugs would’ve changed now, if you’d gotten the chance to grow old.

I said before, your brother is easier to approach. You are harder to, but you’re the one I knew like the back of my hand. You never approach anyone first. But you’re waiting to be approached. You’re cold from the start, until someone gets through your walls, and then there’s nothing but continual, reliable warmth. I know better than anyone because you were particularly wary and harsh with me. But you were softest and warmest to me when you finally trusted me. I was never happier than when you told me I was closer to you than even your best friend, that I understood you in a way no one else did. It was my happiest memory, but it was also my life’s curse. If I knew you so well, why didn’t I see it coming? If I loved you most, why couldn’t I see it? If you would do anything I asked of you, why, why didn’t I prevent it? These are the chains that tie me up. This is the burden I’ve been carrying. It’s okay. They don’t understand. I deserve it because I couldn’t protect you.

[teamkaiforever]

Little Gilbert

(requested by anon) Kai Parker x Reader word count : 4 461 summary : Reader is Elena’s little sister and the Salvatore’s are over protective of her. Kai ends up staying at the Salvatore’s over night and sneaks into her room. *gif by jake-riley keep reading after the cut😉 ____________________

Y/N’s life had gotten complicated the past few years. When her older sister Elena had met Stefan , Y/N had still been in her third year of high school. Both Stefan and Damon had taken a liking to her and over time had become like family to her - like she had two older brothers. After Elena had burned down their house , Y/N had moved in with the Salvatores. Problem was they were super over protective of her. If anyone even dared to get too close to her , things would get ugly for that person. Once a classmate , her friend Jake , had come over so they can work on a project and he had played a prank on her - sneaking up from behind to scare her - and she had screamed. Damon , who had been at the kitchen in that moment making her her favourite snack , rushed to the living room and nearly choked her friend before even bothering to listen to what had happened. Stefan was the same - almost , he listened first before trying to hurt anyone. Y/N loved them and appreciated having two guarding angels at all times but sometimes things were getting a little out of control. Their over protectiveness was starting to suffocate her. Whenever a boy showed up to take her on a date , one of them would tag along and even though the Salvatore wouldn’t sit with them , it didn’t matter much because they could still hear and see everything. Elena was the only one who could get them to back off a little but that never lasted too long.

* * * Y/N walked downstairs heading into the kitchen, her ponytail and white polca dot ribbon flapping behind her. She was wearing a black tshirt with print (the logo of her favourite band) and gray skinny jeans along with her favourite ankle high black converses. “Hey sis.” she smiled at Elena. “And big brother.” she winked at Damon. Her eyes drifted towards the cupcakes on the kitchen counter and just as she was about to grab one , her eyes fell on a stranger sitting on the kitchen table. He had blue eyes ,brown hair , perfect angel like features and was holding a cupcake , his fingers covered with frosting. The boy glanced at her , then at Elena and Damon. “You have a little sister?” asked the boy. “Wait. Who’s sister is she? And …where have you kept her hidden until now?” Y/N took one of the cupcakes , taking a bite which resulted in cupcake frosting getting on her nose. Elena wiped it away with her thumb , giving her little sister a warning look. Damon glanced between Kai and Y/N , who obviously were curious about each other by the way they were starring at one another. Kai had gotten up , shortening the distance between him and Y/N. He was smiling widely , outstretching his hand for her to shake as a hello. “Hi. I’m Kai …and you are ?” “Littlest Gilbert.” she laughed. “I’m Y/N , Elena’s little sister, well cousin.” “A human.” muttered Kai to himself. “Didn’t think those existed in Mystic Falls with all the supernatural population. I see you like cupcakes as much as me. Hey maybe we can go out sometime - there is this bakery near the town square -” “OKAY , slow down big brother.” said Damon pulling Kai away from Y/N. “You are not allowed anywhere near her. Got it? She is off limits.” “Why not ?” wondered Y/N. “Because he is the one who shot an arrow through Bonnie’s stomach and he is the reason she is all alone in the Prison World right now.” said Elena pushing her sister out of the kitchen door. Y/N got free and ran back towards Kai and the cupcakes. Elena’s little sister looked at Kai , head to toe , curiousity burning in her eyes. “He doesn’t seem dangerous.” she said. “He seems .. cute and cuddly.” Kai laughed under his breath. “I think she likes me.” “No , no , no.” said Damon. “No one here likes any body. Y/N , go to your room before things get ugly for mr. charming right here.” Elena grabbed Y/N and started pushing her towards the door again. “Fine, fine. I’m going. See you around Kai.” “Yeah. See you around.” he replied with a wistful look in his eyes. Damon was starring at him , his arms folded in his chest. “What ?” “If you touch her , you lose your head or heart. Or both.” threatened Damon. “Damon !” exclaimed Elena. “Don’t threaten him. He said he’d help us get Bonnie back. That gives him a pass. At least this time…” Elena kissed Damon on the cheek while Kai was glancing between them and the door , hoping that maybe Y/N would pop her head through there. “You two together is still totally revolting to me.” sighed Kai. “Alright , where is that stupid Ascendant ?”

* * *

A FEW MONTHS LATER

Y/N walked into the Salvatore’s , her phone in her hands as she kept texting her friends. Elena had convinced Stefan and Damon not to hover over her that day , so she can spend it with her friends before their graduation in a few days. The Salvatores’ overprotective attitude really was getting out of control lately. Y/N took a few steps into the living room and left her bag on the sofa hearing voices coming from the library. Whoever had come for a visit didn’t appear to be wanted. For a moment she hessitated , but in the end curiousity won over and she headed straight towards the loud voices ignoring the fact Stefan and Damon would be angry as hell if she put herself in any kind of danger.

“I just need a place to crash.” “No.” “One night.” insisted Kai. “Don’t think your house was my first choice. Look I know we don’t get along , specially after that wedding fiasco , for which I am very sorry by the way. What Bonnie did hurt me and I snapped. It’s not like you two haven’t screwed up majorly at some point in your life.” Stefan folded his hands , nodding and rolling his eyes listening to Kai. Last thing he and his brother wanted was Kai spending the night over , specially with Y/N being in the house. Kai had been dangerous before he turned into a heretic and now who knew what he’d do if he got upset. None of them were willing to risk it. “I am trying to be better.” added Kai. “Please ? See how nice I am ? I even said ‘please’.” “You are not not staying.” argued Damon.

* * *

Kai laid in his bed with his hands behind his head listening in to what was happening downstairs. He knew he wasn’t wanted and decided to play nice because of Y/N. At the moment Elena was trying to convice her to stay away from Kai to which Y/N seemed to reply with only MMMHMMMSS and nods. Stefan and Damon pitched in too , trying to make her hate him. Kai really hoped they wouldn’t succed.

“Well , I’m going to bed.” said Y/N suddenly , interrupting her sister and the Salvatore’s lecture about Kai. “Okay.” said Elena , hugging her goodnight and Stefan and Damon demanded they walk her to her room. She protested but there was no talking them out of it. They walked upstairs , a Salvatore on each side and headed down the left hallway. “There. I’m safe and sound in my room.” said Y/N sounding a little annoyed. “Could you cool it down a bit ? I’m starting to feel … a little suffocated.” “Our house , our rules.” said Damon , kissing her forehead. “Sweet dreams.” Stefan gave her an one arm hug and followed his brother downstairs to talk to Elena. Y/N closed the door and sighed. “ ‘Our house , our rules.’ ” she muttered. “I wonder what would happen if I move into the tree house outside. Probably the squirrels will have an opinion about it. ‘Oh but where will we store our nuts for the winter?’ Absolutely ridiculous… ”

Kai tried to suppress a laugh. He knew the Salvatore’s must suspect he has a thing for Y/N. It wasn’t possible for him not to have one. Out of everyone in the group , she seemed the only one ready to listen to him talk and talk , accepting him just how he is , with all the good and the bad. Not once he had heard her judge him or see that look everyone else was giving him. No. Y/N was different. Around 2AM when everyone else appeared to have fallen asleep , he got up quickly , taking out a medium sized cartoon box out of his backpack and walked quietly to the door. Kai opened it and popped his head down the hall looking both ways before going out and carefully closing it behind him. He tried figuring out where Y/N’s room would be and with his luck , the Salvatores had probably decided to give him the room furtherest away from hers. It appeared to be the most logical thing to him.

Kai reached the end of the hallway and placed his hand on the doorknob , slowly and quietly twisting it before taking a peek inside. “Bingo.” he whispered smiling , walking in a second later. Y/N had curled up on her bed , the covers pushed away due the heat. Her window was opened and Kai wondered what Stefan and Damon would say if they found out. He sat on her bed leaving the box next to him and brushed his fingers against her cheek. Y/N looked so cute in her sleep , her nose twitching like a little bunny’s. Kai placed his hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming and tried waking her up. It took him a few minutes but finally her eyes opened. “Hey hey. Its me.” said Kai smiling. “Please don’t scream. Sorry for waking you up , I just wanted to talk to you. I’ll remove my hand now , okay? ” Y/N nodded and he took his hand off her mouth. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” she wondered , running her fingers through her hair as she sat in her bed. “You know what my two bodyguards would do if they find you here.” “Let them try.” said Kai a little amused. “I’m a heretic now. Perhaps if I was only a puny vampire or a witch they would be able to but not anymore. Now , close your eyes. I have a surprise for you.” Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and Kai placed the box in her hands. Her eyes lit up when she saw the cupcakes inside and she patted the spot next to her on the bed and Kai climbed up next to her. “Thought you might like those.” “Like ? I love those !” she smiled. “Thank you.” Y/N took one of the cupcakes , swiping her finger around the frosting before tapping his nose , trying hard not to laugh at his expression. Kai was looking at her wide eyes gleaming in the dim light and his mouth was open in surprise. He wiped the frosting with his thumb , licking it right after. “You think you are so cute , don’t you?” he said amused. Y/N only winked at him. Yep. Beyond cute , actually. he thought. “Want some ?” she asked , letting him take a bite off the cupcake she was holding. “So… What did you want to talk about ?” “Nothing really.” he answered. “I just wanted to surprise you and get to spend some time with you. It appears during the day that can hardly happen specially with Stefan and Damon hovering over you the entire time..” “Yeah …” “Why are they so overprotective of you?” he wondered , looking nervously at his hands. “Are you … um … are you dating Stefan or something? He seemed way too eager to get you away from me.” Y/N stared at him for a moment and then started laughing. Kai looked at her confused. “What ? Whats so funny?” wondered Kai. “Do I still have frosting on my nose ? I thought I wiped all of it out.” “Stefan is not my boyfriend. He is Elena’s ex and … one of my closest friends.” she said wiping some frosting off Kai’s face. He really had missed a smudge. “More like an older brother actually. They both are. Stefan and Damon I mean.” “So … you don’t have a boyfriend?” asked Kai with a hopeful note in his voice. Y/N shook her head looking at him. Why would he ask her that question? And why did she feel her cheeks flush and her heart race ? “I don’t know if they said 'thank you’ but … Thank you for not linking my sister to Bonnie. With Jeremy gone , I really don’t know what I would’ve done without her around.” Kai gave her a small smile. Y/N had been the reason why he hadn’t gone through with it. Part of him knew that if he wants her to be his friend , there was no way for him to screw over her sister like that. She never would’ve forgiven him for this. He still wondered how Y/N had that much power over him considering they’d barely spent a few days together since they met. Kai reached for one of the chocolate cupcakes , swiping some of the chocolate frosting with his finger , licking it right after. “So where is that tree house?” he wondered. “I’ve been here a lot of times but no one had ever mentioned it. Must be pretty cool if you want to move there.” Y/N smiled, of course he had heard her comment. A few years ago she and her brother , Jeremy , had build a tree house in the woods. Pretty much no one knew about its existance , but her and her siblings and quite possibly Stefan and Damon. It wasn’t as big for her to move in there but it was a nice escape from reality every now and then. “It’s a little deeper in the woods. We can go there tomorrow , if you want.” she said hopefully. “I would love to.” smiled Kai , taking another cupcake. He looked at it for a moment , then glanced at Y/N. “Hey , Y/N?” “Yeah?” she looked up and Kai smashed the cupcake against her nose. “Payback’s fun.” he laughed at her startled / amused expression and quickly pulled out his phone to take a picture. “This is going on Instagram. And Snapchat… and Facebook.” Y/N wiped away the frosting from her face , wiping her hands clean on Kai’s face. “Whoops. Sorry.” she said pretending to be really sorry , looking inncently in his eyes. “I think you have a little … something right there.” she motioned at his face. “OH you are so going to get it for this one.” he threatened , purple black veins showing under his eyes as he rolled on top of her and started tickling her like crazy. Kai loved seeing her smile and hearing her laugh. Somehow it made him smile and laugh too. Happy , thats how Y/N made him feel. “S-stop.” she laughed trying to push him off her. “Not a chance.” he laughed , only slowing down for a moment before continuing to tickle her. Kai couldn’t help but notice how her eyes sparkled in the darkness , even more when their eyes met. Both their laughs were echoing in the house but none of them seemed to care about that. “Having fun?” said Damon , making Kai turn around and stop tickling Y/N. “Get off her now before I tear your arms off.” Y/N kept laughing , trying to catch her breath. Her eyes had started to water a little but she could still see the Salvatores trying to drag Kai away. Quickly she got up grabbing Kai’s hand , pulling him towards her. “Stop it you two.” she said running her fingers through her hair. “He wasn’t hurting me or anything. I’m perfectly fine. We were just laughing and eating cupcakes. Can’t I do that with my friend ?” “You-” said Stefan. “- are not allowed to have boys in your room. Specially not him.” “I wouldn’t hurt her. I’d die before doing that or letting anyone else try.” interrupted Kai sitting back on her bed. Y/N had called him her friend which was more than he had ever expected. “Y/N is my friend , … maybe my only friend. I like spending time around her and she appears to feel the same. If she tells me to leave , I will. No questions asked.” Stefan glared at Kai while Damon balled his hands into fists , clenching his jaw trying hard not to strangle Kai then and there. “Consider it an early graduation present.” she said with a smile , glancing at Kai who was sitting on her bed , his elbows resting on his knees while holding his head in his hands. He was looking at them with curious look on his face and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You can leave the door open if you want , but he is staying.” “Wide open.” said Damon. “I might take it off its hinges just in case that twirp gets any ideas.” “Ha.Ha.Ha.” “Don’t you dare -” “Out. Both of you.” said Y/N. “Please.” Stefan and Damon left pointing at their ears letting them know they’d be listening in , leaving the door wide open. Y/N tossed herself on the bed next to Kai. A groan of frustration coming out of her lips. “Sorry about them.” she muttered. “They are driving me insane.” “Don’t be.” he said rubbing her back in slow circles. “They care about you. Wish I had someone like that in my life.” Y/N got up , snuggling closer to Kai. He sighed , wrapping his arms around her. “How can’t you see it?” she wondered smiling. “You already do.” “Who?” “Me , dummy.” she started to laugh. Kai looked at her a little surprised. Y/N’s eyes were fixed on his and he could hear her heart racing. He brushed his palm against her cheek , tapping her nose right after. Hearing her say that had made something inside him shift a little. “I care about you too.” he said quietly.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY

Y/N woke up in her bed around 7AM and quickly got dressed , heading straight for Kai’s room. It was the only room in the hallway opposite from her room that hadn’t had the door closed. He was looking at something on his phone and quickly looked up seeing her stand barely 2 metres away fully dressed and smiling at him. Y/N pressed her index finger to her lips and took his hand pulling him off the bed. “Out the window.” she whispered , wrapping Kai’s arms around her. Kai laughed in her ear for a moment and both of them jumped outside.

Y/N and Kai walked through the woods for about 20 minutes until they reached one of the few oak trees. Between the branches , hidden , was a small tree house. It had tiny windows and a small porch - large enough for two maybe three people to sit on. “Come on.” she said with a smile , pulling one of the branches letting a rope ladder fall down. Kai watched Y/N climb up and then went after her. By the time he had reached the top , she was already sitting on the makeshift porch with her feet dangling off it. He sat next to her and followed her gaze. “If you squint your eyes really really hard you can see the boarding house from here.” He looked at her squeezing her eyes and starting to laugh in a moment. Y/N turned towards him and their eyes meeting for a second. A sigh left her lips and her gaze dropped to her hands. Something had sparked between them last night and again just a moment ago. Kai brushed his palm against her cheek making her look up at him again. He could hear her heart racing and breathing turn shallow the closer to her he got. It had been the same the night before. In the end they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms and when Kai had woken up around 6AM , he had left her room before any of the Salvatore’s saw them. He was sure they’d freak out. Weirdly he didn’t care what they’d do to him. He was worried what punishment they might come up with for her. “Your friends would kill me for what I’m about to do.” he whispered leaning in towards her and unless he was imagining it , she was leaning in towards him too. “But I don’t care.” “W-why not?” she asked , trying hard to concentrate and calm her breathing with no luck. Kai’s blue eyes were piercing into hers , drawing her in and a couple dozen butterflies were flapping their wings in her stomach. “Because I would’ve gotten to kiss you..” he said pressing his lips against hers for moment , making her heart beat so fast as if trying to leap out of her chest. “ At least once.” he said smiling. Y/N stared at him , a smile starting to show on her face. Kai smiled back at her lightly brushing his nose against hers and just as she was about to kiss him - “Well , you are right about the kill part.” said Stefan. Y/N and Kai looked down seeing Stefan standing there , his hands folded on his chest. He looked mad. Really mad. She couldn’t remember the last time he was shaking from anger like that with his vampirism showing at the same time. “You are not going to touch him.” she said feeling more confident than ever. “And why is that?” “Because - ” said Y/N taking Kai’s hand. “- killing him would mean ripping my heart out.”

MASTERLIST March / April 2017 MASTERLIST MAY 2017 MASTERLIST JUNE 2017 MASTERLIST - SMUT

[sturdybackbone]

aubade to things long since past

plum-hued eyes and a misty morning balcony

I. “What are you cooking?” You ask, voice high and light, scratchy and half-raw in that way that young children’s voices are. You are four. Your hands are on the countertop, and your feet, buried in the slippers everyone wears inside the house, are standing on their tiptoes. You are not a tall child. You have never been, nor ever will be. Your mother flinches, as if struck. Her fingers still. She is cutting green onions, the knife gone still and dead at your little piping voice. Knives are fascinating things. Sharp and glinting and something like half-alive, at times, gliding and cutting and then being stowed away like a coveted, precious thing. Her great big white eyes stare down at you, and you blink up at her. And then, you shift on the spot, uncomfortable in your own brown slippers. Once upon a time, Sveta had clued paper eyes and ears scribbed brown onto them, to make it seem like you were wearing little bears. All that remained of that was the marks left by hot wax. “…You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t wanna.” You say, eyes drooping and drooping down until they cling to the pale floorboards. She stares. Her fingers, pale and skinny and bony, tighten around the knife. She speaks, now. Translated to English, the words are too harsh to be ‘Go away’, but are too soft to be ‘Fuck off’. Mother never swears, not like Father does, and never will. But the intention is still the same. The firmness is still there. The shaking fear there too would have made a creature smarter and older than you pause and think. But you are a little child. And when your mother spits at you in a cruel tone, all you can do is stare up at her with big wet eyes and a trembling lip, and then stagger away, into the arms of someone who can grant you comfort. The problem was, Mother was your comfort. And when you stagger to Sveta, her shoulders draw up tight, up to her ears, and even though you crawl and writhe onto her little lap, fishing for attention as you feel heat and wetness on your cheeks, all she can do is stare into the empty room, fingers tight around her dolls, and say nothing even as her own eyes shine. You wring your arms around her neck and you taste snot and salt on your lips, as you open your mouth, about to wail something out, in the needy and high tones of a child scarcely grown from infanthood. And then your face burns, and your bum and your back is on the wooden floor, and you are blinking up at your red haired, red faced sister. Who looks down at you, eyes wide and white in horror, and as your face scrunches up and your hands move to rub at your sore spots, you find her pudgy, childish hands joining them. She pulls you close, a girl of eight, and she speaks into your feathery black hair. The same hair as your father, your brother. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—” She chants into your scalp and you clasp around her like the little monkey you are, and weep into her chest, tears startlingly hot on your face. “Dad told me Dad told me and Mom and I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry—” You are a young boy of four. You do not know what cruelty is. What pain is, beyond a bleeding booboo you get at the playground that makes Mom pour iodine into your wound. Later on, you would pinpoint this moment, this memory, as the moment you realized that life would not be the same. That you floating out of that countryside chasm, by nothing but some secret power hidden in you all your life, would not bring along miracles and happiness and goodness. No.  But at the time, all you could do was cry and wail, wanting nothing more than for Mom’s hand soothing your hair, for Dad’s hand firm and solid on your shoulder. Instead, all Dad does, a few rooms over, is growl at the rumbling tv with beer bottles strewn all around him. All Mom does is gaze down at the knife in her hands with wide white eyes, and think how easy, how easy, how easy it would be. II. You are six. You are much, much, much wiser, and smarter, than the you that has been. But you are still a stupid little child. So monstrously stupid, that looking back, you faintly wonder how you didn’t drop dead from sheer stupidity. Two years. It has been two years, since you survived falling into a great hole which was meant to be your grave.  A lot can, and has, happened in two years. There was a time, once upon a time, when your Mother meant home, meant safety. When Father was a great big allmighty tree of endless knowledge. When life was still hard, but simpler. Better. You scarcely remember it. Six-year-olds are not famed for their memory, after all.

Mother is in the hospital. Little Maxim, still slumbering in her belly, was far too eager to claw his way out of her womb. Mother is just barely eight months pregnant, and yet, she’s in labour. Not like you really knew the finer details, like these, back then. All you knew was that mother was in the hospital, in a furious fight with your unborn little brother. There’s a small degree of satisfaction, there. Of not being the littlest male in the family anymore. That is, if your brother survives. But such a thought did not run through your head then. It was unthinkable, even as you read about all sorts of tales and books with deaths and heroics in them.   There had been a point, just a week ago, where you gloated about reading a hundred page book about the Greeks and Romans. You had been mighty proud of yourself. Like all children wishing to gloat, you took the book, pressed it to your chest, and toddled to your home. And stopped dead in your tracks, dirty sneakers poorly protecting you from the hot May asphalt of Moscow’s streets. And you turned back, face burning with the memory of what happened last time you did such a thing. Seeking Father in such a time. Paying back for the book, which had torn into so many little fluttering pieces under Father’s fingers, had taken an eternity. And had made the librarian’s eyes go from tender and soft to hard and averting.

LIttle you had not been truly looking to gloat. But to have a parent look down upon you, and be proud. To approve of you. To see worth in you. But in Father’s eyes, seeking approval and gloating were one and the same.

The last shrieking crimson baby in your family was Anya, but she had grown, and was now was a three-year-old girl with great bright eyes and thick red hair that was quite a few shades lighter than Sveta’s, almost shockingly bright. Her hair was the talk of all of the cooing adults. Sometimes, you wondered how you would look like with her hair. And shuddered at the mental results. The buds of sarcasm were just that, at this stage of your life. But they would not remain as such for long, bless little you. You’re avoiding it, you know? Avoiding this memory. Because what else am I to do? Let’s cut to the chase. This isn’t nearly the most traumatic memory you have, after all. There’s no need to simper about such a thing. Six is the age when Father hits you for the first time. Perhaps it is the stress of his wife being caught in a great labour, and him being stricken with worry. But if that was truly the case, he could have been there, in the hospital, holding her hand and soothing her hair away from her face. But he’s here. At home. Like some grey, pasty ghost, sitting on the floor in his dusty pants, a bottle of mostly empty vodka held like a lifeline in his hands. He stands, at some point, hand on the wall, supporting him as he staggers out in the cramped grey corridors of the apartment. You aren’t around to witness this, but you would presume that’s the case. You’ve seen it enough, after all. You’re huddled with Andrei and Sveta, who’s holding little Anya. Andrei has puffed his chest out, trying to soothe all of your worries, even as Anya frets and worries into Sveta’s shoulder, who provides her with quiet comfort. They are a comfortable trio, all on a squalid couch on their own. You, an outsider, sit on a sofa, leaning into them almost horizontal like. You’re not sitting on Father’s seat, of course, but on the guest seat. Uncle Vladimir’s. Sveta never sits on it. Neither will you, soon enough. They’re whispering and then Anya’s eyes grow shiny with tears as Andrei lets slip that, sometimes, sometimes, women don’t survive childbirth. And she wails. And Father, who had been having a very loud piss, hollars from across the apartment. You all still. Even Andrei, as much as he is his father’s favourite. And then the sound of Father shambling across the halls come, and as the door bursts open, Andrei and Sveta clench around Anya, and Andrei hisses, eyes shining with something that is not quite malice nor tears, “Artur did it!” Father’s bloodshot eyes shoot towards to the sofa where your little body sits. Instantly, your muscles tense, and your legs pull towards your body. Father looks worse than almost any other time you’ve seen him. He is all blotchy and pale and eyes both lined red and bloodshot. His lips are red, having been worried by his teeth so much. His nose is red. His hair has not been brushed or tended to in days. Andrei might be Father’s favourite. But everyone, from Mother to distant grandmothers to even yourself know that out of all of Nikoli Kalinkalovsky’s massive brood, you look the most like him. It is something you will hate hate hate hate in years to come. It will not be the only or first thing you hate about yourself, and nor will it be the last.

His eyes shine out of something that is not quite malice nor tears, though massively leaning towards the former, and he stomps to you, even as you see Andrei ease in your peripherals. Andrei is a vicious idiot, above everything else. But he still covets his normal family. And for you, so abnormal that you might not even family? Something not wholly different from delight shines in his eyes as he sees Father cross the distance.

Things happen quick. Father is hungover.  He is stressed. Fear has gripped his belly and wracked him raw with the powerlessness that comes when there is nothing you can do but wait and utterly rely on someone else. And, above all other things, the thing that Father loathed most was powerlessness. Even so young, you half-understand this concept already. A hand lunges for you, to try to grip your t-shirt and drag you up into the air. But, tragically, fight and willfulness has not yet been beaten out of you. And so you duck, and slide from under his left side. And find a wall against your back, and a brawny arm latching around your waist. You are just a touch slower than him. Trying to flee was your mistake. And you are rewarded by being shoved against the wall, and then pain blooms in your nose. There is a long, long, long moment where you do not know what has just happened. And all you are aware of is a pain that is almost acidic, seeping down into your bones, and causing your face to swell in pill-bitter pain. Warmth slides down your lips, and you taste tangy iron, and blood. Father, somehow, looks more surprised than you. His features are, somehow, more white, more wide, and it seems like his vicious hangover is cured, for a few moments. Even Andrei, the vicious idiot he is, is struck mute and still at the sight of your nose blooming with blood, and you squinting up at your father with confusion written all over your face. And then Father’s senses return to you. He hauls you by the front of your shirt, peers over at his other spawn, barks a “What?!?” Which makes all three of them flinch, and look down at the floor. Father tosses you onto the balcony, locking the door behind him. You don’t know what happens next. If he yells at your siblings, or immediately stomps away, or what. Because for the next several moments, all you can do is stare at the wall, even as the blood starts sliding towards your ear, and all you can feel, at the moment, is a bright hot betrayal that turns your innards cold and solid and gelid. Your throat burns. The corners of your eyes itch. You curl up, on old baskets and onions and old kitchen rags, your hands curled into fists at your eyes, and you bawl, face twisted up and little mewls slipping out of you. What is the point of crying, if no one will come to your aid, you wonder, as you nonetheless continue to weep.   Ah, so young, and already a philosopher. You wipe away blood and snot and tears with old rags and bundle them up and tuck them in your pocket to wash later. Your nose, when it dries, itches. You make the mistake of scratching it, and not only are you rewarded with more pain but fresh blood, too. Father develops a taste for smearing your face with blood very, very quickly. It’s the catharsis, the power, he’s been looking for this entire time, you suppose. Or maybe he’s simply bored. Mother comes back two weeks later. In her absence, Sveta, the oldest girl, and you, the one entrusted with a good few simple chores, have systematically burned and butchered your way through many meals which made Andrei cough soot and Father’s fists grow itchy. You wonder, faintly, how long he’s been waiting to strike you. Mom is wan and more skinny and haggard than ever before, and, behind her, Father cradles Maxim with something like horror in his expression. He had a similar expression when Anya was born, you think, but you can’t really recall. Fatherhood does not suit him. Mother stumbles into the house, all but dropping out of her coat and shoes, and she turns to her children. One of them sports a great purple bruise on his face, and a nose that’s still a bit red and fragile to the touch. She pauses and looks and looks and looks, her expression unreadable, as Father, behind her, shifts from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable with holding such a vulnerable little creature in his arms. Maxim, in turn, does not seem comfortable in being held by his darling sire. Mother sniffles. Her head raises. Her jaw tenses, and then relaxes. There is a moment, here. A moment, in which, things could have gone so, so, so differently. There was steel, in her gaze, for a moment. You are not accustomed to seeing anything less but mewling patheticness in her. There is a moment in which a world bloomed in front of you, a world where you are happy. But Father clears his throat behind her, and she tenses and she jumps and she instantly dots on little Maxim, and then fusses about the state of the apartment, where Father replies that it’s like this because she wasn’t here to tend to it. When her eyes wander back over to you, your eyes are shiny, and you are biting your lip to keep it still. Her eyes are blank. And blank forever more.